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wid0wd-archived · 3 months ago

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DOSSIER CHEAT SHEET

LEGAL NAME : natalia alianovna romanova. NICKNAME[S] : natasha is used as a pet name in her mothertongue, but it's become akin as her birth name in the usa as it's ssemingly easier to pronounce for her friends; tasha is another used often enough in her close circle along with nat; some people will call her red due to her hair color, last but not least there's her moniker of black widow. DATE OF BIRTH : 1928, though appearance wise she doesn't look any older than 30. GENDER : female. PLACE OF BIRTH : stalingrad, former ussr. CURRENTLY LIVING : has lived for the longest time in little ukraine, new york. however natalia doesn't really feel like home is anywhere physically. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: by demand of the red room, natalia is a polyglot. russian is her mothertongue, though these days it's more common to hear her speak in english. she's fluent in italian, spanish, german, french, chinese and japanese. since knowing clint she's been learning some ASL here and there. among other languages she has basic understanding of latin and greek. EDUCATION : the red room trained natalia to know fundamentals of any topic though she has undergone through an extensive course in international politics, law and economy. technically she hasn't attended college, but results as a college graduate in this field due the red room forging papers for her whenever necessary. HAIR COLOR : auburn, sometimes dyed lighter or darker. tends to dye it blonde whenever on the run. style wise it's usually kept long or shoulder length, throughout the years she's attempted to keep bangs but they never stick too long. EYE COLOR : icy blue, with green streaks. very peculiar in a way that would make her stand out amongst other widows. there's a certain curiousness and sadness in her eyes that gives away the heavy weight on her shulders. STATURE : always taller than most widows from her years in the red room, the use of ballet techniques in the training room has turned natalia into the type of person who's back is super straight, shoulders pushed back, head held high. PHYSIQUE : lean and toned from years of training - she's definitaly smaller in frame than her current teammates but makes up for it in agility.

FAMILY INFORMATION

SIBLING[S] : alexei, younger brother whom she cares dearly for though she finds very little time to spend together. there are other siblings, but she's never met them. yelena is like a sister in the sense that natalia can see her suffering and enduring mirrored in the other woman - it's a complicated relationship, only other people from their same world could understand. PARENT[S] : her mother is unknown, ivan never asked her before taking natalia with him away from the fire. alian romanov is natalia's biological father, though she never really tried to connect with him. in the wake of so many betrayals in the family, natalia considers nick fury like a father figure the most. RELATIVE[S] : nobody to mention in relation to blood. natalia has made a "family" of her own composed of bucky, yelena and clint - they're her inner circle, and everything that matters the most. the avengers and some fellow SHIELD agents come to a close second due to all their shared battles. CHILDREN : rose, born from a love sparked during her first escape from the red room. she was unfortunately stillborn, and now rests in a secret place. stevie was born in a lab, but natalia loves him like she's known him her whole life - she doesn't know where he is currently, but has entrusted bucky with that information. PET[S] : liho, a black cat who loves hanging out at her place but also wants freedom - just like natalia in a way. she's natalia's safeline in times where everything feels too much, they're really good for each other. honorable mention to alpine, who doesn't belong to natalia but also kind of is ... it's complicated.

RELATIONSHIP INFORMATION

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : natalia doesn't label herself as she's still trying to figure herself out on that matter. unless it's strictly mission related, both sexual and romantic orientation need to be born at least from some shared experiences though hence why she would probably fall into the demisexual / demiromantic label. RELATIONSHIP STATUS : extremely complicated. she never shyed away from love despite being taught not to seek it and have it drilled in her head that it doesn't matter - she's a romantic at heart and it always comes out albeit always choosing duty first. natalia is deeply traumatized and does very little to get better beside push through, which is why her relationships never last long and follow a certain pattern in regards of the personality type of her partners. she's trying to do better, get in tune with her old self in new ways, learn from mistakes and open up to others. time will prove if it's worth. SINCE WHEN : since forever, she's been through marriages and funerals ( literal and metaphorical ) but her heart still won't totally give up.

tagged by: @cykehead tagging: you!

#dash games.#study.#i've probably forgotten something but it's okay hjbhj

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sabrinaogawa · 2 years ago

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Sabrina Ogawa- Raindrops and Rainbows make every day better~

~*Sabrina Ogawa*~ 27. Aquatics Aficionado by day, swim instructor...also by day! Ask me about my turtle*~ She/Her*~

Bio: Sabrina Ogawa moved to Redwood Hollow as a teenager when she was attending university. There, she double majored in Biology and Natural Resources. While she originally only resided in the town temporarily during semesters, after taking an internship with the Nature Reserve, Sabrina decided to permanently move to Redwood. A lover of all things aquatic, Sabrina accepted a role at the reserve as their water expert. A natural teacher, Sabrina decided to keep her original part-time job as well, and she continues to teach swimming classes at the local pool. Sabrina is known as one who can and will talk your ear off about anything and everything. She’s very excitable and energetic, with a bit of a competitive streak. She loves expressing her passions, and puts her all into everything she does. On the other hand, she is prone to being overzealous and easily distracted, which has a tendency to work against her in interactions and event hosting and planning. It’s hard for her to hide when she’s keeping a secret, which has led her to spoil more than one surprise party.Sabrina is very openly loving and patient, despite her constant energy, most especially with her students. She loves helping others succeed, and is very friends and family oriented. She is also very artistic, and expresses that through painting and jewellery making. She enjoys swimming, dancing, and ice skating, and was a competitive figure skater growing up.

Sabrina’s pronouns are she/her

Sabrina’s sexuality is pansexual and she is open to every gender with no preference

Sabrina has a pet turtle named Teagan (or Mr. Teagan the Three Legged Turtle). She

initially rescued Teagan as a baby turtle, and once it became clear that Teagan would not be able to survive on his own in the wild, she’s kept him as her buddy ever since.

Sabrina is very close with her family and can constantly be heard walking around town while talking on the phone with them

Sabrina is fluent in English, Japanese, and ASL.

Sabrina has Auditory Processing Disorder

Sabrina is very friendly, and finds it easy to make friends. Sabrina is supportive, loyal, and a true blue friend. She enjoys learning about others and their passions and uplifting them. That said, she is flightly, prone to forgetting to text back and then texting back with a text wall, and has no ability to pick up when someone is flirting.

Official Bio

Wanted Connections:

-Dates/Lover/Ships -Crushes-Someone she can have a crush on (ok if unrequited), or someone who has a crush on her that she just is not picking up on (yet) -Roommate -Friends -Roommates -Perhaps someone she really gets on the nerves of, but Sabrina still has painfully not picked up on that fact and keeps trying to befriend them

-Coworkers at the Nature Reserve or the Pool, or at least people who visit there often enough. Wanted Connection/Plots Ideas: -Your muse has a crush on Sabrina, either recently or for a while now, and she has yet to notice it. Your muse asks her to hang out often, and visits her at work, and Sabrina is always excited to see them, and in return, is always hanging around them as well and turning up with fun plans or small gifts. It just never feels like the right time to say something. -Sabrina has a crush on your muse, and has been doing the most to express it. If they are already friends, this has shown itself as Sabrina trying to hang out with your muse more and more one on one. If they aren’t familiar with each other, Sabrina has been trying to just happen to be at places your muse is at, in hopes of being noticed.

-Your muse cannot stand Sabrina. She is overly excited, overly loud, easily distracted, and worst of all, is not picking up on this at all and is still trying to be your friend. Unfortunately she has so many friends in town that to cause drama with her might end up causing drama among others you’d rather not deal with. -Your muse and Sabrina have only just gotten to know each other, and even though you’re not necessarily similar, maybe entirely different, you like having each other around and don’t question it. Your Muse and Sabrina meet for lunch at least weekly, and she helps your muse discuss anything that is currently on their mind and helps your muse. Trying to find out what your muse’s crush is like? Trying to figure our what to get your friend for their birthday? Trying to decide if your friend is acting weird or not? Sabrina’s on the case. -Your muse is visiting the nature reserve, and has a few questions about aquatic animals, nature, or the weather, that Sabrina is more than happy to answer. -Your muse bumped into Sabrina at the local bar one night, and you both spilled your drinks on each other. You are now both waiting outside of the bathroom for a turn to salvage your outfits with a roll of paper towel, and maybe some cheap soap and cold water. -Your muse took Sabrina home to hook up once, either in the past or in the present. It either went fine and your muse and sabrina still talk and maybe would hook up again, it went terribly awkward and now you both kind of avoid each other, or it seemed like it was going to go great, only for your muse or Sabrina to get a call and have to leave suddenly. -Your muse does not know how to swim, and wants to learn. That said, it’s a little embarrassing to sign up for the beginner lessons, given that most of the students are six years old. Your muse asks Sabrina is she would be willing to teach you privately. Taken Connections: -Friend: Vidia @speedyvidiabrisa -Friend and Turtle Buddy: @flash-hundredyarddash (Very excited to add more! Please message me if you really want to connect!)

#happiestplacetask #happiestplacetask11 #sabrina muse #muse #headcanon

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bireggiemantle · 3 years ago

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some jabitha headcanons based on the most recent episode <3

- since learning fluent asl is a long process, I think the two of them develop an informal way of communicating nonverbally in the meantime. maybe through small taps of gestures.

- jughead's probably pretty sensitive to loud noises, but since both he and tabitha have spent so much of their lives in constant action, and by extension constant noise, they both still crave it to some degree. their solution is quiet but ever-present music, something tabitha can hear and enjoy, and something jughead can feel the rythym of.

- I think he might be a little self conscious about his hearing aids when he first gets them, and since he isn't a teenager anymore, he doesn't have his hat to hide under, so his first instinct is to grow his hair out long enough for it to fall over his ears. tabitha takes notice of this, and I think she can guess why, but she doesn't bring it up, just compliments the look and tries to make him feel as comfortable as possible about it.

- I think tabitha's a quick learner and catches onto asl fast, but its a little rougher for jughead, especially since he keeps getting frustrated with himself. they try and learn together though, and several of their friends try learning small phrases as well.

- their first I love yous are signed and not said, with tabitha being the one to sign it first.

- tabitha's extremely stressed out form everything happening in her life (first the diner explodes, and now her boyfriend can't hear her), but she refuses to acknowledge it or take time off. I think jughead picks up on this though and tries taking small steps to make things easier for her, and, with the help of pop, they convince her to take at least one day's worth of vacation.

- jughead takes up writing again while he's unable to work (since it'll take a little while for him to get hearing aids), and I think he uses this as a way to cope with the loss of control he's feeling, especially since his character is likely modeled after himself.

- tabitha finds the sound of his typewriter soothing, like a sort of white noise she can listen to while focusing on other tasks. like I said in an earlier hc, I think it's because she grew up in a bustling city, so she likes having a lot of noise in her life.

I don't usually do hc posts, but I'm feeling too tired to really write anything long form rn, so I thought it'd be fun. I hope you guys like these :)

#riverdale #jughead jones #tabitha tate #jabitha #headcanons #mine

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archangelgabriel · 4 years ago

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idk if you guys remember my drawings of dean winchester jr, his sister, and the fitzgerald kids being friends, but here’s the part TWO (better this time)

(tap for better quality)

hcs under the cut:

idk of these look like teenagers but sam and cas are both 18, dean is two years younger than them at 16, and jody is two years younger than him at 14

oh yeah dean has a younger sister. her name is jody. honestly i’d name her something different now but my friends who invented her came up w jody and i feel like paying homage to them so it’s jody now 😌 maybe i’ll change it eventually since this is kinda my version

they all live in the same modest suburban area and investigate supernatural happenings together + kinda keep tabs on the secret life of the monster youth

sam (winchester) told his kids about the supernatural and they’re all just kind of witchy in their day to day lives. every other friday the winchester-leahys preform the family bonding Blood Ritual to summon auntie rowena over for dinner

jody and dean are both fluent in asl and often use it to their advantage. id like to imagine they go to the same high school and will sign things to each other from across the hallway and then get in trouble bc they called jody’s mean physics teacher a cunt right in front of him

dean inherited his fathers weird thing about serial killer podcasts, except he likes to investigate cold case files. his favorite thing is looking at some old super famous unsolved mystery and realizing that it was probably because of a ghost or vampire or some shit, bc it makes him feel special that he (and a few other ppl) are the only ones who’ll ever know the real answer

it’s kind of a family of nerds. jody pretends not to be but she is and she regularly participates in dean’s freakish magic science experiments

they regularly almost burn down the house together. eileen is so long-suffering (sam w. contributes to the chaos although he denies it when she’s around)

their prank wars are like magic prank wars. lots of (mostly) harmless hex bags are placed into each other’s backpacks

OH JODY MAKES THEM ALL FILM TIKTOKS WITH HER ADJHJNWJGD. THIS IS TRUE AND FACTUAL she is on witchtok and like just posts complete bullshit but with enough real magic to the point where she can fuck with people. it brings her great joy

sam (fitzgerald) very willingly does the trends with her he thinks it’s fun. actually lets talk about the fitzgerald twins

so basically they have the sweetest most loving least nuclear nuclear family ever. from my vague memory of the ep it’s just them, garth and bess, and their older sister who’s probably moved out so yknow. rowdy 18 year olds with the house to themselves. they’re super different but love each other and know how to live with each other after like over a decade of being the top and bottom bunk on the bunk bed (cas got top, sam was afraid of heights as a child)

they both wear the silver bullet necklaces that the whole family wears, n both are happy to. sam kind of secretly wishes he could just be a regular human boy, so he appreciates the message of “you’re just like a human! you are no better than them, so love everyone equally :).” cas actually kinda likes being a werewolf but he appreciates the message the necklace offers of “hey ur stronger and better than literally all humans but you can still die so, don’t eat them i guess.”

oh if you couldn’t tell cas is the emo one. sam took after the general fitzgerald household vibes of overeagerness and love and happy times! cas just tries to be… anything but that. he probably listens to, like, death grips.

he’s still a big hugger, though. kind of ruins his image when he’s saying goodbye to some acquaintance and almost instinctively goes in for a snuggle.

they both kinda tend to get into fights. there’s a similarly peaceful vampire family in town who just thinks they’re ~so much better~ than them, and it even pisses SAM off and he’s like a walking talking marshmallow cookie.

sam actually has like a secret aggressive streak just bc he’s very defensive over his family and friends. listen i know he sounds like a mary sue shut up shut up shut u—

sometimes cas gives jody piggyback rides if she asks nicely. he pretends to be super annoyed by it but he likes the opportunity to use his super strength every once in a while. sam is also very easily persuaded if jody asks nicely, but usually she is asking him to pick up dean just to piss him off.

i think it’s very funny how dean and cas are like the Intellectuals and they’ll talk about politics and current events and social justice and jody and sam are the Artists and will interrupt them to be like “look we broke two skateboards in half and then stuck them together in a plus sign shape to make the Mega Skateboard” and then jody tries it out in the driveway and then they have to drive to the hospital. huzzah

im out of hcs so here’s some bonus doodles

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all-by-a-dead-poet · 4 years ago

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AU where Todd is deaf

This got really long and really out of hand really fast, oh well

- Todd has been deaf since birth

- His parents figured it out when he was two

- They thought it was weird that he never reacted when someone said his name but looked up the second you walked into his line of sight

- So they went to a doctor, and he told them Todd was deaf

- Todd doesn’t really know anything about deaf culture

- His parents being who they are, they raised him in the hearing world and had him learn how to read lips and sent him to speech therapy

- They wanted him to be as “normal” as possible

- But Todd’s been bullied enough to know that he doesn’t speak quite the same as the other kids his age

- So he generally doesn’t speak and just carries a little notebook around with him for the times that it’s absolutely necessary for him to communicate

- Even though there’s not really anyone for him to sign with, his mother had him learn how

- She learned a little sign as well, and while she’s by no means fluent, she can hold a basic - albeit stilted - conversation

- Todd’s father knows none at all. When his wife suggested he learn so he could communicate with his son a little more easily, he refused

- He said it would encourage Todd to sign more and speak less, and therefore be more “abnormal”

- Jeffrey knows a few basic signs that his mother taught him, but that’s it

- Todd both loves and hates being deaf

- He hates it because not being able to hear what anyone around him or his teachers are saying just makes his anxiety worse

- But he also loves it because it gives him an easy excuse not to talk to anyone

- He loves poetry because he feels like it’s the only way he can truly express himself without any barriers getting in the way

- Normally Welton wouldn’t accept a deaf student

- But since Todd’s older brother is The Jeffrey Anderson and his parents offer to “make a generous donation to the school”, they let him in

- When Todd first meets Neil, Neil just starts talking a mile a minute, and while Todd is relatively good at reading lips by now, it’s still a lot harder than most people think, and he can’t keep up with the explosive enthusiasm and boundless energy that is Neil Perry

- So he pulls out his little notebook, writes “I can’t hear you” and holds it up to Neil

- He assumes this will be enough to get Neil to shut up and leave him alone like everyone else does because they don’t want to put forth the effort to communicate with him

- Yeah, that’s not what happens

- In fact, it has the exact opposite effect, and Neil just gets even more excited

- He’s never met anyone deaf before and he thinks it’s just the coolest thing and he wants to know everything

- The other poets are also welcoming and accepting

- They all make a special effort to talk a little more slowly and clearly than they normally would when they’re with Todd. They try to only talk one at a time and make sure that they’re facing him so he can read their lips and understand what’s going on

- They’re not perfect about it, but they’re trying, and that’s what counts

- But the person Todd feels most at ease with is Neil, there’s just something about him that makes Todd feel safe and truly seen for the first time in his life

- When Mr. Keating finds out Todd is deaf, he makes sure that he only speaks when he’s facing the class, and before every lesson, he types up a page of notes to give Todd to make sure he doesn’t miss anything

- He doesn’t want to single Todd out by having him be the only one who gets the notes, so he makes copies and gives them to everyone

- The first time Todd speaks in front of Neil, he expects him to laugh or at least react in some way to how he sounds “weird”

- But Neil just smiles and says he’s been wondering what Todd’s voice sounds like and that it’s beautiful

- Even though Todd and Neil have gotten into a pretty good rhythm when it comes to communication, Neil still wants to be able to have a conversation with him more freely

- So he decides to try and learn ASL to surprise Todd

- There’s not really anyone around who can teach him, though, so he gets a bunch of books out of the library and tries to learn that way

- But, as anyone who knows ASL will tell you, that really doesn’t work very well

- It’s very frustrating, but Neil keeps at it because he wants to do this for Todd

- He manages to keep it from him for a bit, only studying it when Todd’s asleep or not in the room

- But eventually he falls asleep on top of one of his books and Todd finds him that way in the morning

- When Neil wakes up, he’s all put out that Todd knows what he’s been up to now because he wanted it to be a surprise

- But Todd just tells him that he wouldn’t get very far with a book anyway and shyly offers to teach him

- Every night before bed, the two of them work on it together

- Neil’s a quick learner. He already gestures with his hands a lot when he speaks, he’s very expressive that way, so signing just clicks easily for him

- But Neil still wants to do something to surprise Todd

- So he talks to the other poets and they decide to learn how to sign a poem

- Every day, beyond teaching them what to sign for the poem and practicing it, Neil teaches the other poets what Todd taught him the night before so that they’ll be able to sign things other than the poem as well

- When they finally feel like they're ready, they decide to have their next meeting a couple days earlier than originally planned because they just can’t stand to wait

- When they all stand up at once instead of just one of them, like usual, Todd’s taken aback and confused

- But then they all sign the poem for him in unison, and by the time they’re done, he’s about ready to cry

- The amount of effort and love they put into it is more than anyone’s ever shown him and it just hits him like a ton of bricks

- After that, the other poets join in the nightly ASL lessons as well

- Even though some of them pick it up faster than others, Todd’s incredibly patient with them all

- He knows what it’s like to have a teacher get upset with you because you don’t understand what they’re saying, and he never wants to make anyone feel the way he’s been made to feel

- Once Neil’s fluent enough, he starts signing along whenever he speaks, no matter the setting, so Todd won’t have to read his lips anymore

- That’s a little harder for him, since it can be difficult to do both at the same time, especially when you’re still learning, but he’s determined to do it anyway. For Todd

- As the other poets improve, they follow his lead, signing when they speak too

- Mr. Keating actively encourages it, and even asks the boys if they would teach him as well, so he can sign while he gives lessons

- Of course, Mr. Nolan and some of the other teachers frown on the whole thing, and occasionally tell the boys not to do it if they think it’s getting too “blatant”

- But when have the poets ever let that stop them?

I might actually make this into a fic, idk, we’ll see

#dead poets society #dps #todd anderson #neil perry #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #steven meeks #gerard pitts #richard cameron #todd's deaf au #my post

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theboarsbride · 3 years ago

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For the Writing Ask Meme:

#2 and #22 💜

2. Give short descriptions of all the main characters for [WIP].

Gonna do this for the characters for "Those Red Nights" since it's the WIP I've been working on the most recently! (also these won't be super short, RIP I apologize in advance)

Det. Selene Radcliffe - 28 years of age; a young, freshly-graduated detective. Mute - uses a combination of ASL and a pocket notebook to communicate (the latter of which is reserved for those who aren't fluent in ASL). Has a degree in Psychology and Criminal Justice (as well as a minor in Forensic Sciences) from the University of Wisconsin (Madison). Works hard to prove herself as a smart, strong, determined, and hard-working investigator because of how she is treated differently by her peers for being a mute woman, as well as being the daughter of Arthur Radcliffe, a famed and well-liked PI that worked with the Milwaukee Police Department. She is seen as the ‘privileged trainee’ because of these connections, and she is aware of this privilege, which fuels her determination to prove herself capable and skilled enough in her own right. She also owns a fat cat named Gus (he is important in the story, I swear, lmao), and a lot symbolic motifs related to her character is moon imagery and the color red, as this is a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. Face claim (and primary source of inspo) is Jodie Foster.

Det. Apollo Esposito - 40 years of age, a seasoned detective that works with the MPD. Is originally from Chicago, and comes from a Black-Hispanic background. Knows ASL because his mom is deaf (sometimes he will sign stuff when speaking out of habit, or he has super animated hand gestures that look like he’s signing). Apollo is a very optimistic and hopeful man, despite seeing the more grim parts of humanity. He uses seeing such grim stuff as inspiration to remain warm and hopeful. He and Selene are partners, both professionally and romantically, and they've also a very deep friendship with one another. Apollo is her voice of hopeful reason, while Selene is his realistic one. The symbolism surrounding his character centers primarily on sun imagery and the color yellow and themes of hope, and his fairytale counterpart is the Huntsman.... he is also a huge Broadway musical nerd. I've no set face claim for him, but it's currently bouncing between Norm Lewis and Samuel Anderson.

Lowell Volkov - 45 years of age, is employed at the Milwaukee Public Museum. He starts off as a very meek, spineless man that allows himself to be pushed around by his peers - which he, unfortunately, interprets as personal slights and cruelties against him (when in reality these people aren't all that rude to him, he just holds a very jaded, hateful worldview). He becomes afflicted with lycanthropy after scratching his hand on an artifact (this concept needs more development), which he initially uses to boost his confidence but ultimately loses himself within this power fantasy, and becomes a cruel and arrogant man. Ultimately, he uses his lycanthropy to commit crimes and murders, becoming a serial killer known as "The Big Bad Wolf" because of the animalistic nature of his kills. Lowell and Selene were once lovers, though very briefly, and their relationship becomes one of predator and prey as they begin to hunt each other in the streets of Milwaukee... A lot of symbolism surrounding Lowell's character is cold, starless nights and wolves, and his lycanthropy is a very lowkey allegory for toxic masculinity and themes surrounding confidence becoming arrogance. Face claim is Bob Odenkirk.

22. How much of your own self/experiences do you believe pours into your projects? if this differs per project, which projects have the most and least of you?

Admittedly I try to distance myself as much as I can from my projects, in terms of putting my own experiences into plots and characters? The closest I've ever came to this was making characters like Edgar in TMATB book nerds because I'm a book nerd lmao dslsdljdslsddsldsklsdk

#Those Red Nights #writeblr #character intro #jojo writes #werewolf oc #little red riding hood #red riding hood retelling #fairytale retelling

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goldenraeofsun · 5 years ago

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Symmetria

A 15x18 fix-it, set post-series

Also available on AO3

Dean doesn’t make an immediate trip to the Empty when all’s said and done with Chuck. He takes his time getting used to his new gig as capital D Death. Billie, of course, did not see fit to leave him a training manual. Instead Dean gets a squad of whiny angels (reapers, but still) to manage and a bajillion books to read, so he does his best to channel his inner Cas and get the job done.

It’s nothing like that day old Death brought him along on Take Your Human to Work Day. For one, Dean's been to Heaven, so he’s not as torn up about reaping kids and good people. He can tell them with complete honesty, You’re gonna be in a better place. Heaven's awesome. No cryptic bullshit when Dean’s holding the scythe.

For another, he’s also been to Hell, and Rowena herself set him straight on her plans for the place. Sending dead scumbags and murderers down to her is the highlight of his day.

It’s still exhausting work, and he gets why Billie thought it would be a better punishment than killing him outright. He can never rest, never find peace, since there’s always a job to do. Death and taxes, and all that.

Not that Dean wanted to kick the bucket before his little brother. But now Sam’s capital G God, so they’ll both be hanging around for a while longer. When Dean reaps him, Dean’ll give one of his lackeys the scythe, and they’ll both party it up in the Empty.

Oh, and he’ll reap Jack too, since Dean can’t reap God without the Darkness. Balance, as those damn books keep telling him.

“Hey.” Dean stomps his snowy feet on the welcome mat. He hikes his take out bags higher in his arms.

Eileen signs hello. “How are things?”

Dean grins as they make their way to Sam and Jack in the kitchen. “Sent a Wall Street embezzler down to Rowena before I got here.” He knocks hard on the table with his knuckles to get Sam and Jack’s attention.

Jack looks up from the textbook they both had been pour over, beaming. “Dean’s here.”

“Already?” Sam’s gaze darts to the clock above the oven.

Dean drops the food on the table. “It’s Sunday dinner! I wouldn’t miss it since you’d probably starve without me.” He pulls out a chair and flips the book to his side of the table. He scans it with mild interest. “What’re you working on?”

“History!” Jack says brightly. “I’m learning about ancient Rome.”

Dean turns to Sam. “You know, you could just take him to see Caesar, right? Or I could. Rowena gave us an all-access pass.”

Sam bitchfaces at him. “That’s not the point, Dean.”

“The point is to learn critical thinking and rhetorical skills without supernatural assistance,” Jack says, and obviously those aren’t his words judging by the proud look on Sam’s face.

Eileen shakes her head, signing emphatically, “I don’t know if that counts if God is helping with your homework.”

“I’m just supervising!” Sam protests.

Dean snorts. "Uh huh."

Jack peers at the takeout bags with interest. “What did you bring for dinner, Dean?”

“Russian,” Dean says with a grin as Jack pulls out a container of pierogies. “Borscht, stuffed cabbage, and stroganoff. Plus some vegetable thing. I don’t know - it was all in Russian.”

Sam rolls his eyes since a little thing like a language barrier isn’t really a problem for them anymore. They’re all fluent in ASL from a snap of Sam’s fingers. He had first offered to restore Eileen’s hearing, but she politely declined. Being Deaf is part of her identity, apparently, just like keeping his stupid Jesus hair is Sam’s.

“This looks delicious,” Eileen signs as she gets to her feet to grab plates. Jack hops up too, making a bee-line for the cutlery drawer.

Sam tosses Jack’s homework on the empty seat at the table. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” Dean says. He pulls the stroganoff closer for first dibs.

Sam narrows his eyes as he accepts a plate from Eileen. “You sure?”

“What?” Dean makes a face. “It’s true.”

“I think you can aim a little higher than fine,” Sam says exasperatedly. “You’re a universal constant who has Sunday dinner with two cosmic beings. Plus Eileen.”

“I do only come here for Eileen,” Dean acknowledges solemnly.

Eileen winks at him as she sits back down. Jack laughs.

“There’s gotta be something else you want out of this,” Sam says, gesturing around them.

The one thing I want, is something I know I can’t have.

Dean swallows down the lump in his throat and dumps stroganoff on his plate. He deliberately does not look at the empty chair to his right, currently occupied by Jack’s homework.

“It’s too soon,” he grunts.

“Is it?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised. “You’ve got your reapers under control. I’ve created enough new angels to run Heaven without blackouts. Jack’s got a handle on his Darkness powers and settled in at school. There’s literally been no better time.”

Dean sighs. “What if something happens?” He looks at each of them in turn. “We’ve finally got something good going for us.”

Jack makes a face like he killed yet another plant without meaning to. “But is it really good without Cas?”

* * *

Dean has lost count of the number of times he’s replayed Cas’s final moments on Earth in his head. He has also lost count of his regrets. There were so many times he could have said something, done something. Been the loving man Cas talked about in his goodbye.

But he isn’t.

He can’t love Cas. If Dean did, he would have caught on a hell of a lot sooner. Wouldn’t have waited or held back. Wouldn’t have, for the first time in that moment, questioned whether Cas could feel something as human as that. For him, of all the mud monkeys on planet Earth.

Instead, he just stood there like a jackass and let Cas get taken away by black goo again.

Love is sacrifice. Cas hammered that point home like no demon deal, no trials, no soul bomb ever has.

But Dean’s a Winchester, and if their family is known for anything, it’s throwing sacrifices back in each other’s faces - spitefully, lovingly.

Sam and Eileen hit the books. Jack writes down all he remembers about his time in the Empty.

It takes two weeks to come up with a spell to take out the Empty, or, at least, temporarily cut it off at the knees.

Dean, Sam, and Jack head back to the Bunker. Technically, Dean still lives there, but he’s usually all over the country, carrying out his Deathly duties. He hasn’t spent the night since they took out Chuck. After the adrenaline crash, he just sat back with his brother-turned-God at the war table and wondered if this’ll be the rest of their supernaturally long lives. Neither of them said much.

They prep the spells in the kitchen before heading down to the dungeon - the most secure room in the Bunker. Dean, tense as a coiled spring, tries to keep up with the laughs and jokes, but Sam keeps shooting him knowing looks.

“You good?” Sam asks as they get ready for the last seps.

Dean, his mouth dry, can only nod.

They prop up the bowl of ingredients on an old filing cabinet, and Jack stands by with Empty bombs (based on Kevin’s demon bombs). Sam bleeds into the bowl and reads out the Enochian.

The whole Bunker rumbles ominously, before the overhead lights pop out, one by one.

Dean almost laughs - or cries. Hard to tell in the dark.

Shadows bubble up from the middle of the floor, blacker than anything else in the room. Dean adjusts his grip on his scythe, waiting with bated breath as the tarry, otherworldly substance takes a humanoid shape.

It settles on a body and a face, and Dean sees red. He stabs it straight in its trenchcoated chest, right where its heart would be.

The Empty stares down at the blade, its expression turning to wry amusement. “I believe the saying is ‘deja vu’?”

“Shut up,” Dean hisses. He yanks his scythe back as, behind him, Sam snaps his fingers. A few of the lights repair themselves. To the Empty, Dean growls, “Wear someone else’s face.”

The Empty bristles like it’s almost offended. “No?”

Sam pulls Dean behind him before Dean can stab it again. “Hi,” he says loudly over Dean’s angry spluttering, “I know we got off on the wrong foot last time, but-”

“Wrong foot?” the Empty interrupts, head tilting.

Dean’s fingers tighten around his scythe. How dare that thing wear Cas’s face, do Cas’s thing, talk like Cas. Only Sam’s arm in front of his chest stops Dean from surging forward and finishing what he started.

“Yeah,” Sam says with a warning look at Dean. “In Death’s library - well, old Death. Dean uses a hard drive to store all his books of fate now. Look, you’re probably still pissed I woke you up, but all we need is one thing, and then we won’t bother you again.”

“Oh,” the Empty says. Its forehead furrows in a way Dean had seen on Cas too many times. The burning ache of regret flares with a new heat, and Dean glares murderously at the Empty as it says, “That wasn’t me.”

Sam’s mouth opens and closes. “What?”

The Empty clears its throat. “You met the old Empty. Billie and I killed it before she died.”

“The Empty can die?” Dean asks roughly.

It nods, its attention turning to Dean almost hungrily. “It was weakened from Jack’s explosion. Billie didn’t want to help me, naturally. But if the last Empty was still in charge, Billie’s final rest would have been far from peaceful.” It smiles. “I could also guarantee she would never have to see any of us ever again.”

“And who’re you?” Dean demands.

The smile drops off the Empty’s face. “You don’t know? After all this time?”

Dean swallows, a terrible, wonderful hope struggling to breathe in his chest. He tries, his voice almost a whisper. “Cas?”

The Empty nods, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns to Sam for verification because there’s no fucking way Dean trusts himself anymore when it comes to Cas. But Sam’s face reads nothing but mingled relief and joy, so -

Dean lets the scythe drop with a clatter and strides forward on shaky legs. Cas tenses like he’s bracing for impact. “It’s alright,” Dean tells him in a low voice as he squeezes tight. Cas is real, alive (or alive as any of them are at this point), and back in the Bunker where he belongs. “I got you, Cas.”

Cas sighs, an exhale of bone-deep weariness. He buries his face deeper in the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean holds on even though it’s been way too long for a normal hug. But hell, Cas fucking loves him. Cas can deal with a little extra hug time.

Sam coughs pointedly as he steps up for his own hug. “It’s good to have you back, man.”

Cas smiles as he accepts a few manly back slaps from Sam.

Jack rushes forward for his turn.

“Jack,” Cas says reverently as he wraps his arms around him. “You’ve done so well.”

“Thank you,” Jack says, his voice cracking. “I missed you, Cas.”

Cas just shakes his head, overcome with emotion. “I’m very happy to see you.” He mutters a few words, too low for any of them to hear, as he disentangles himself from Jack’s arms. He looks around at the three of them. “I’d say you all are doing very well for yourselves.”

Grinning, Dean picks up his scythe and gives it a little spin. “Gee, what gave it away?” He sobers as Cas doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “But you already knew that,” Dean surmises.

“Chuck told me.”

Sam's eyes go wide. “Chuck?”

“When he died, he was sent to the Empty,” Cas says shortly. “To me.”

Sam grimaces. “Sorry.”

Cas’s lips press together in a thin line. “It took forever for him to shut up. I suppose I should have expected it.” He sighs. “Chuck always did pride himself on being a storyteller.”

“And a dick,” Sam adds.

“Chuck told me about how you defeated him - his ‘greatest creations’,” Cas quotes sourly, “and about the cosmic consequences, which included a changing of the guard - God, the Darkness, Death,” he shakes his head, adding, “the Empty.”

“This was his plan?” Dean growls, his voice a mixture of anger and surprise. But his rage dies as Cas slowly shakes his head.

“Not exactly, but he said he could appreciate the symmetry.”

“Of course he could.” Dean runs a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ, please tell me that’s the end of him.”

“I have complete control over the Empty,” Cas assures, “He isn’t waking up any time soon.”

“Oh,” Dean says awkwardly, “good. That’s good.”

Reluctantly, Cas tears his gaze away from Dean. He straightens, his mouth set determinedly, and asks Sam, “There was something you wanted?”

Sam shakes his head, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Not anymore.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “If you need anything from the Empty, I can give it to you.” He glances at each of them in turn. “As I told you once, I am always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.”

“No,” Dean chokes out before Sam or Jack can get a word in, “No goddamn bleeding - of any kind. Just, no.”

Cas’s frown deepens.

Sam grins. “We were gonna ask the Empty to wake you up. So I guess… we’re good.”

Cas blinks a few times in confusion. “You wanted… me?”

Jack throws him an incredulous look. “You’re a part of us, Cas. Of course we wanted you here.”

* * *

Dean makes burgers for dinner. Even though none of them need to eat, they’re far too used to it to stop. By the stove, he listens with half an ear as Jack peppers Cas with updates on the new world order and high school. Every once in a while, Sam’s voice comes through with a few modifiers and anecdotes.

Jack turns in first, complaining about leftover homework.

Sam takes off next, saying he promised to buy bread and eggs on the way home to Eileen. He leaves Dean and Cas alone in the Bunker’s kitchen.

Neither of them say anything as Sam’s footsteps fade up the stairs to the exit. Dean steadily keeps his eyes trained on the half-empty beer bottle spinning around in his hands. Cas sits next to him at the table, happy as a fucking clam to sit in silence, staring at Dean like he’s a goddamn miracle.

It’s too much.

This is why Dean didn’t jump to bring Cas back to the land of the living. It tore him apart inside, like metaphorical hellhound claws digging into his gut. Sure, Cas deserved to be topside. Cas deserved to have his happy ever after like the rest of Team Free Will 2.0. What Cas didn’t deserve, was a man with his head so far up his own ass he couldn’t muster up three measly words when they mattered most. And Dean had no idea how to tell Cas any of that.

“Dean,” Cas breaks the silence first because for all he said in his big goodbye speech, Dean’s a fucking coward. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” he clears his throat, “so I didn’t anticipate the position I would put you in by showing up. I apologize.”

Dean turns to him, alarmed. “No, don’t apologize. It’s my - I should have - you were - son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together so he doesn’t go blurting something stupid like you were so wrong about me; it fucked me up for a while.

“It’s okay,” Cas says gently. “I’ve seen Jack and you and Sam. That’s all I wanted since I left. Truly.”

Dean sucks in a breath, his pulse spiking with fear. “That sounds like another goodbye. I don’t - I don’t think I can take another one of those from you.”

Cas blinks. “You want me to stay?”

Dean’s mouth works furiously before he demands, “You don’t want to?”

“No,” Cas draws out slowly like he’s concerned for Dean’s sanity, “but if my presence-”

“Stop,” Dean holds up a hand, “just ‘cause I don’t know what to say to you -” liar “- doesn’t mean you have to get exiled from the whole planet. You saved the world, the same as us. The very least you get is free rent for eternity.”

“If you say so,” Cas says doubtfully.

“Jack would be real upset if you fucked back off to the Empty for the rest of time,” Dean adds. “He’s studying the Roman Empire and could use some help from someone who was there.” He takes a sip of beer, and fuck cosmic tolerances. He could drink a whole liquor store and not feel anything.

The corners of Cas’s mouth twitch. “I was actually stationed in China during that time. I would be a minor help at best.”

“Then make it up,” Dean says with a grin. “It’s not like Jack will know the difference. And if his teachers call him out on it, Sam can wave his magic wand and make it true anyway. All hail President Clinton.”

Cas snorts. “That would be one way to help, I suppose.”

Dean drains his beer, a purely instinctual response, before he starts, “You’ve levelled up. Got a power upgrade as the Empty.” At Cas’s tentative nod, he goes on, “You could’ve said something, dude. Given us some sign. I - we all thought you died. For good.”

“I cannot come to Earth without being summoned,” Cas says heavily.

Dean makes a face. “Rules like that never stopped any of us before.”

“You could have performed the summoning ritual at any time - all the cards were in your hands.” Cas’s gaze drops to the table. “I thought you didn’t want to see me.”

Dean shakes his head vehemently. “That wasn’t the case at all.”

“But you said you don’t know how to talk to me,” Cas points out.

Dean swallows. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you around. I didn’t know how to talk to you when you were cuckoo for cocoa puffs, when you had fucking amnesia. Hell, it was even weird when you were human. But things are… better with you here. No matter what.”

“Really?” Cas asks, the doubt clear in his voice.

“Of course,” Dean says gruffly. “You gotta know that.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean says as he gets up for another drink - old habits, “now you do.”

“Do you still believe this?” Cas presses.

“Never doubted it for a second,” Dean promises as he sits back down.

“Even after you sent me away?” Cas asks quietly.

“Hey,” Dean says sharply, “You made that choice to walk out that door.” But that old anger doesn’t survive long in the wake of the look on Cas’s face. Dean smiles humorlessly as he twists the cap off. It clatters to the table, the sound echoing around the empty kitchen. “But, yeah, that was me being angry over a bunch of shit that was out of our control. Not you. You just happened to be in my line of fire.” Dean takes a long pull from the bottle. “What a guy to fall for, huh? Blames you for everything that goes wrong and makes you think you’re better off gone.”

Cas freezes. “So we’re talking about it?”

Dean raises his eyebrows, half in surprise at himself. “Guess so.”

“Nothing has to change,” Cas assures him. “The only difference is you know about my feelings for you.”

“How long have you had them?” Dean asks with a casual air that’s one-hundred percent, Grade-A bullshit.

Cas presses his lips together as he thinks. “Since you took me to that brothel.”

Dean chokes on his drink. “Seriously?”

Cas ducks his head, a surprisingly human gesture of embarrassment. “I didn’t know it then,” he says in a low voice, “all I knew was that I wanted to impress you. I had never felt that way about anyone before, except God.”

“Gross, man.”

Cas purses his lips. “Not like that.” He sighs. “But I suppose it happened the year I made that deal with Crowley.” He reaches for his own beer bottle, long emptied sometime in the middle of dinner. He spins it between his fingers contemplatively. “I told myself I made the deal to make the world safer for you, so you could live out your retirement in peace. But it was just a convenient ploy to keep myself busy. You didn’t need me for the first time since Hell.” He presses his lips together. “My love for you made me reckless and blind, as approximately 231,600 love songs could have told me, if I had bothered to listen to any of them.”

Dean chuckles. “It probably would have been better if you just had an emo phase.” At Cas’s frown of confusion, Dean waves it off, “Forget it. It’s water under the bridge anyway.” He sips his beer. “Since the Purgatory deal? That’s a long time.”

“Not for an angel,” Cas counters. “I’m extremely old.”

Dean snorts a laugh. “Touché.”

“You’re not going to ask why I never told you before?”

Dean shakes his head. “You made that pretty clear in your little goodbye speech. ‘The one thing I want, is something I know I can’t have’,” he rattles off the phrase that had been bouncing around his skull for the past month and a half.

Cas bites his lip, a shade of hurt lurking behind his eyes at hearing his words parroted back to him. “I had always known my feelings were fruitless. Telling you was more of an act for myself than for you,” he says to the table, “but I didn’t think I would be around to know what that meant for us.”

“I get that,” Dean says haltingly, “but they’re not.”

“They’re not what?”

Dean forcibly lets go of his empty beer bottle because he’s going to shatter it if he says this next bit with glass between his hands. “Your feelings. They’re not fruitless. They’re, uh, pretty fucking fruity.”

Cas’s mouth opens and closes, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Is that a dated and offensive reference to homosexuality?”

“What?” Dean yelps, “No!”

Cas sits there, nonplussed.

“Your feelings,” Dean says through gritted teeth. “What you want. You can have it.”

Cas makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” Dean mutters. “Even with all of history crammed in your noggin, you don’t get it. Fine.” He shifts in his seat so he can face Cas fully. “Let me clear things up for you. Just… smite me if I cross a line.”

“Dean,” Cas protests, “As the Empty, I can’t smite any-”

Dean cuts him off with a kiss.

As far as first kisses go, it’s passable. Cas clearly has some experience - he doesn’t go straight for the tongue, but he’s frozen for so long, Dean almost pulls away to check if he drastically miscalculated. But Cas exhales, tentative hands wrap around Dean’s forearms, and he pulls Dean in closer. Dean smiles against his mouth, small puffs of laughter escaping as Cas’s nose bumps against his. He cups Cas’s jaw in one hand, and Cas lets out a little sigh, melting the last few layers of Dean’s reservations about this whole business.

It’s the promise in the kiss that makes it awesome. This isn’t their end. For once, the world isn’t on fire, and they’re not playing catch up with an apocalypse.

It’s just them, Death and the Empty.

The Endgame for every human, angel, and demon on Earth.

Suck it, Chuck. That’s fucking symmetry.

#destiel fanfic #profoundnet #destiel #Death Dean #God Sam #Darkness Jack #s15 #15x18 spoilers #post 15x18 #post series #reunion #fanfic #rae writes fic #15x18 fix it #episode fix it

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queenof-literature · 5 years ago

Text

Signs

Hi all! I hope you enjoy part 4 of my Hero of Wild series. For more information on the signs, please click here if you’re interested.

I just wanted to be upfront and say that this is in no way an exact portrayal of ASL or the culture surrounding it. Hylians are fictional and would therefore have different signs. I based it off of vocabulary from ASL. I know basic sign to help my fellow peers in Special Education, but I am not fluent and am only basing it loosely off of ASL and putting a twist on it I think Wild’s Hyrule would have developed over the centuries. I of course don’t know Wild’s Hyrule’s sign, so these are just my personal headcanons for how I think it would be. Thank you!

“I think we need to make name signs for ourselves.” Twilight pitched his idea while Sky was off distracting Wild. They were currently in Sky’s Hyrule on the surface. Wild’s first time going through a portal went well enough. He went through last with his hand on his slate. Twilight assumed it felt a little bit like a trap, that a group he didn’t know very well told him to go through a mysterious portal. Wild seemed used to strange magic at least, or whatever his slate was. Wild had told Twilight it wasn’t magic but Twilight had a hard time believing that.

It seemed their new member was similar to their traveler in the fact they had to do their best to keep them from running away to explore. Still they both often ran off the path when they saw something interesting to them, Four and Wind joining them sometimes.

Twilight had told Sky his idea of giving signs to each of them for Wild to communicate better and quicker. If he needed a specific item from someone during a fight, quick and efficient would be key. Not to mention the kid shouldn’t have to be forced to finger spell one of their names everytime. Sky smiled and told him what a great idea that was, and that he would give Wild a miniature tour while Twilight brought it up to the group. He didn’t want to spring it upon both Wild and the other Links at the same time, that just seemed like a recipe for disaster.

“Name signs? You mean in sign language?” Legend asked curiously.

“Yeah for Wild. It makes no sense to have the kid continuously fingerspell out names.” Twilight confirmed glancing over to Time.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that. Since our nicknames are more based on nature or objects, why doesn’t Wild just use his signs? Why doesn’t he just sign Sky?” Warriors asked carefully.

“That’s a slippery slope.” Four spoke for Twilight. “That could cause confusion based on context. It would be easier to assign specific names.”

“That sounds cool but how do we do that?” Wind asked with a tilted head.

“Well when I was working with my grandfather, a girl my age and her family came in. She couldn’t hear very well so her family learned sign. Her father talked to my grandfather about it. Apparently it’s easiest if you take a personality or a defining characteristic, like a personality or hair color or something, and have a twist to it. Her name was Lily, so they signed the sign for a lily flower with the sign for I think happy in front of it? I don’t remember very well but it’s like that.” Four spoke up. The others nodded in interest and began whispering about what their signs could be.

“That’s a good idea. Should we just do our hero titles and a defining trait?” Warriors asked.

“That sounds fine, but we should probably ask Wild what he wants since he will be the main person using them.” Time spoke up, to which the group all agreed.

“Okay well I sent Sky off with him. I didn’t want to spring this upon everyone at once.” Twilight stated, barely resisting beaming when Time nodded in approval.

“Good idea, Pup.” Time smiled as the group descended into evening chatter once again. It hadn’t been a hard day of travel, but it had been longer than usual to find a space Sky deemed safe enough. For now the group settled down for the evening.

Wild didn’t know why Sky was distracting him but he played along for now, doing well to hide his nerves. Maybe he had done something wrong? Something the group hadn’t liked? Sky seemed too nice to be leading him to his execution, but maybe that was the point. Sky seemed too nice in general. He was far too warm and accepting to him, especially right away. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew the others stared at his scars when they thought he wasn’t looking. Had the Master Sword told Sky of his failure? Perhaps the group knew of him dying 100 years ago, and they were going to take care of him before it happened again.

It was a shame. Wild liked them so far, especially Twilight. He seemed so warm and willing to help. And Hyrule seemed similar to Wild in their love of exploring. And Four was accepting of almost anyone, no matter what. Was it all a facade? Knowing Wild’s luck it certainly was. He didn’t think they were Yiga, the Master Sword soothed those fears and told Wild to trust them without using any words at all. Yet that was before they truly knew him. Had the Master Sword changed its mind?

If he was ambushed by the very group he was supposed to trust, fellow Heroes of Courage, he knew a part of him would die. Even if he didn’t know them very well, they were a part of his past, present, and perhaps his future. Incarnations of the same soul passed down and changed for millenia. If they deemed Wild unworthy, he would move on, but a deep part of him would remember and always feel pain that his own past incarnations hated him.

Still for now he listened to Sky talk about his Hyrule. If he wasn’t so deep in his thoughts he would find it more fascinating, but he had plenty to bring back to Zelda. If he made it back to her. Another wave of fear swept over him. What if the group was the only way to get to other worlds? He couldn’t make portals appear on a whim! According to Time, Hylia herself even seemed to struggle to put them in the right place! If they ambushed him, he would fight and he would run. But would he be trapped in a distant Hyrule forever, centuries apart from the Goron, Rito, Gerudo, Zora, and most importantly Zelda? If he had no way to return to his Hyrule that he knew and loved, he would be trapped in this warped reality, forever hunted by the real Link who lived here. Leaving Zelda to fix the kingdom he had a hand in ruining.

Wild (perhaps he wouldn’t have that name for long now, although he truly loved it), barely noticed them approaching their campsite for the evening. Wild readied his hand to launch to his slate. He wasn’t going down without a fight, but he would never attack these fellow heroes first. Wild was met with the curious eyes of the other Links around what would soon be a cooking fire.

This was it.

“So, Wild.” Twilight spoke up. Oh Hylia, why did it have to be Twilight? The very man who offered comfort after his first nightmare within the group. Had he forsaken Hylia that much? “We were talking, and we thought maybe you could teach us some more of your sign? Since it’s changed so much over the years. And maybe we could come up with name signs for each other to make communicating easier?”

Oh.

Wild looked genuinely shocked at the boys wanting to learn his language, which made Twilight feel far more sad than he was expecting. Between his distrust of any other Hylians and his shock at someone wanting to communicate with him in his own way, it was clear that there had been many people who had hurt Wild.

‘You don’t have to.’ Wild signed, snapping out of his shock.

“We want to Wild.” Wind reassured, along with the rest of the group. Wild could feel his face warming up, not knowing what to say. He thought they were going to hunt him!

“Um. Well we were thinking you could teach us how to say our hero titles, and then we could all choose a personality or physical trait that defines us? And we could combine them to make the name sign? It’s completely up to you, it’s just an idea.” Twilight pitched.

‘...are you sure?’ Wild signed hesitantly. He didn’t want to make any trouble within the group.

“Yeah Wild! It sounds fun anyway!” Wind exclaimed, attempting to dial up his excited tone to assure Wild they were happy to do it.

‘Okay. Thank you.’ Wild signed as heartfelt as he could. The rest of the team smiled at the boy’s acceptance.

“Are you okay with the idea we had to make them?” Time asked, to which Wild simply nodded. “Okay, we’ll have you combine them, but let us know if it’s too complicated and we’ll choose something else.” Wild nodded at Time once again, signaling that was fine with him.

“Okay! Who wants to go first?” Twilight clapped his hands, glancing around the group members.

“I can. I’m fine with anything that’s not insulting.” Legend volunteered, tacking on the end when he noticed Warriors’ large smile.

“Well that’s easy! You have a pink strand of hair, and your name is Legend! Let’s combine those!” Wind said excitedly. Legend simply shrugged in acceptance.

“Wild, how do you say those?” Wild paused for a moment. Legend was a person and not a fairy tale, so he should use the sign that leaned more towards legacy and not stories. He placed his left hand, the index finger straight up, the middle finger at an angle while the rest of his fingers curled down. Making a downward stroking potion with the curved finger on his chin, mouthing pink along with the sign. Wild then formed his hands into curved triangles, pinching his fingers together. Placing his hands in front of him with the left above the right, making two motions to shift the hands from the left side of his body to the right. To his surprise the rest of the group copied it to the best of their ability, including Legend who didn’t even seem to want to participate in this.

“I’m fine with that.” Legend stated simply, confirming the sign as his. No one brought up him practicing it close to his chest for far longer than necessary.

“I assume mine is going to be Time and Old Man?” Time asked in amusement.

“Nah, we can do better than that.” Warriors smirked. “How about your ocarina? We could combine Time and music?” Warriors pitched. Time nodded, he enjoyed that well enough. He silently appreciated that it also connected him to the Kokiri.

Wild nodded and mouthed time as he moved his right hand like a dial before shifting to the sign for music, moving his right hand in a sweeping motion above his left arm cradled to his chest. The rest of the group copied, Time nodded.

“If we’re in battle, you can sign these with one hand right? The rest of us should be able to know what you’re referring to.” Four asked Wild, who smiled and nodded.

“Let’s do Four next!” Sky spoke up.

“Isn't the sign for Four still just four fingers held up?” Four asked curiously.

“Ugh that’s boring. What if you’re ‘Colors’ instead because of your tunic?” Wind questioned.

“Wind! Don’t call the Hero of Four Swords’ title boring!” Sky chided, although Four looked oddly pleased at the idea of being deemed ‘Colors’ in sign.

“I like it. Maybe with metal or blacksmithing?” Four nodded to Wild. Wild’s nose scrunched up thought, before nodding brightly. ‘Color’ he mouthed as he spread his left palm out, facing his chin as he tapped the index and middle finger against it. The rest of the group copied. Wild then moved the ‘metal’ which shifted to the hand being in a hook shape, tapping the index finger on his chin once again.

“That’s easy enough.” Four’s small smile had grown the slightest bit wider at his sign. Four was sure it wasn’t as sophisticated as a group of people who were more involved with sign could come up with, but this worked perfectly for their new team.

“Me next!” Wind waved his hand. “Well there’s wind and then… something with music! No! Something with boats! Or pirates! No the sea! That incorporates it all!” Wind yelled out his ideas in rapid succession. Wild waited until the teen finally settled on wind and sea. Wild bit his lip. That would be sort of hard to combine. He used the sign for ‘Sea’, the left palm spread out and facing to the side, tapping his index finger on his chin. Although instead of finishing the sign in the normal fashion, he shifted it to the sign for Wind, keeping his palms spread and facing each other. He then moved his hands in two little circles.

“That's perfect!” Wind exclaimed while copying the motion many more times.

Wild pointed to Warriors next.

“Oh, me next?” Warriors asked. Wild nodded, he had a good idea for Warriors. He moved his right hand in a curly zigzag with three curves. “Does that not combine anything?” Warriors asked, seemingly hiding his disappointment that it seemed not much thought was out in it. Wild bit his lip, taking out the journal Four had given him for talking around the campfire when his signs were too complicated.

‘It combines the sign for sword fight and soldier with the sign for writing. You seem to like writing and drawing in your books. Do you want a new one?’ Wild wrote on one of the pages before passing it to Warriors. Realization dawned on him as he read the pages.

“Oh! Sorry Wild I was just confused. I thought it was just a sign for sword. No, I like it!” Warriors smiled at Wild as he passed the book around for the others to see. There were a couple comments about how it fit well and how Wild was good at this, which made Wild blush lightly.

“How about me?” Sky asked after a moment of silence, being careful not to speak over anyone else.

“What do you want your characteristic to be?” Four asked. “Maybe warm? You have a very warm personality.” Four smirked at Sky’s blush.

“I was thinking maybe red? My loftwing that I told you about is crimson colored.” Sky asked Wild. “If not that's okay I can think of something else.” Wild smiled and shook his head, this one would be easy! He mouthed ‘red’, stroking his chin twice with his left index finger, the rest of his fingers curled in a fist. He then mouth ‘sky’ as he swept his arm grandly upwards towards the trees above.

“That’s pretty! Will you understand it if we use a smaller motion for the sky sign? Just if we’re in a rush?” Sky questioned. Wild thought for a minute. It was slightly similar to other signs in different contexts if the motions were smaller, but having the red in front of it would solidify what they were saying. After a few moments of thought, Wild nodded.

“For mine, maybe we should do what we did for Four and not use my hero title? Just because my name is already confusing sometimes with Hyrule the land and Hyrule me.” Hyrule spoke up, looking slightly sheepish.

“If that’s what you're comfortable with ‘Rule.” Legend reassured. “How about Traveler?”

Wild started furiously scribbling before Hyrule could confirm that he liked that name, everyone pausing to let Wild finish.

‘I don’t know traveler in sign, I can’t remember and no one ever taught me again, it’s just blank. I would usually just say yes to being a traveler or say I’m a wanderer. Sorry Hyrule.’ As if to express his apology more clearly, Wild had drawn a large sad face next to the text he had written. Wild always wrote extremely small in his book, as if not wanting to overuse the gift Four had given him. It was a nice change of pace to see something larger on the pages.

“That’s okay, Wild! I’m okay with Wanderer too!” Hyrule laughed. “What about the other sign?”

“How about magic? No one’s better at magic than you ‘Rule.” Twilight suggested, causing Hyrule to burn red.

“I mean I just needed it for my journey. It’s fun though! I like being able to take out a bunch of monsters at the same time-” Wild tuned out Hyrule’s explanation to think of how to combine those signs. He tried to make them easy and short, for both battle and for conversation. He waited until the group quieted down, turning their attention to him. He mouthed ‘wanderer’ as he swayed his right index finger back and forth. He would replace the beginning of the magic sign with that, instead of clenching his fingers together. He then mouthed ‘magic’, quickly clenching a fist and releasing it with flare, as if casting a spell on the ground below.

“I love it!” Hyrule beamed as the others repeated the sign.

“My turn I suppose?” Twilight turned to Wild, who was writing on the page again.

‘I can’t say twilight, but I can say dusk.’ The page said.

“That’s alright.” Twilight reassured.

“What’s his other name going to be?” Wind asked the group.

“Country?”

“Goats?”

“Rancher?” Wild pondered all of these suggestions. Nothing quite fit together. An idea struck Wild’s brain like lightning when he had his royal claymore out in a storm.

‘Wolf.’ Wild wrote in large letters on half of the page so everyone could see. The others looked slightly confused, but Wild simply pointed to the pelt on Twilight’s shoulders.

“Wild, are you sure?” Twilight asked, gritting his teeth slightly.

“What Wild says goes. Besides, I think it suits you just fine, Pup.” Time spoke over the others, enunciating the word ‘Pup’ with all the teasing venom he had, causing the group to roar with laughter. Twilight couldn’t believe this! Betrayed! By his own mentor! Although all of Twilight’s rage dissipated when he looked over to see Wild silently shaking with laughter. As usual the boy made no noise with his mouth, but he didn’t have to. Twilight could see the joy on his face. It struck him that he had never seen Wild laugh like that before, but it seemed natural, like he should be doing it all the time. Twilight supposed if this was the result he didn’t mind the sign so much. Besides, he secretly liked it anyway.

Wild waited for the group to calm down before making Twilight’s sign. He mouth ‘wolf’ as he formed what looked to be a snout in front of his face, keeping his thumb and index finger together, he made a circle and brought it down. Twilight actually really liked his sign, he thought it reflected him very well.

‘Thank you.’ Wild said again once they were done assigning names, being met with a chorus of ‘no problem’ and ‘of course’. Wild started to stand to make the cooking fire for dinner tonight, committing all the signs to his memory. Ever since he had joined, he had taken over the cooking in the evenings. In the mornings a lot of people did their own thing. Some made themselves a full meal, while others just ate an apple on the road later when they were actually hungry.

“Wait, Wild!” Wind piped, causing Wild to freeze. Oh no had he forgotten someone? That would be so embarrassing.

“You forgot your name sign!” Sky finished. Wild’s nose scrunched up once again, picking up the journal once again.

‘I can just refer to myself?’ Wild was confused as to why he needed one. The others seemed to be alright at talking, but maybe Wild was mistaken.

“Well yeah, but you gave us all names, it’s our turn.” Hyrule began.

“And at this point it might as well be a team thing.” Four finished. Wild’s brain went blank for a moment. A team thing? He was a part of the team now? Officially? Wild didn’t expect anything to solidify that, he was just expecting to continue to trail along like a lost puppy. Wild bit back a smile and nodded.

“Okay we have to make this one really good.”

“It at least has to involve nature.”

“And destruction.”

“Really Legend?”

“What? You saw how the guy fought that Lynel. Make his name fire or something.”

“No! It has to be something cool like morning wood or something.”

“No no no no no no no no no.”

“What why? It’s cool?”

“Wind, no!”

“But why?”

“I’ll explain when you’re older.”

“Oh fuck you!”

“What about fire and grass?” Twilight called out, halting all conversations. The group looked at him curiously. “It shows his Wild title and his Hyrule. Also he lit a shit ton of grass on fire when we met him. The group all nodded, deeming this title fighting of their new member.

“Is that okay, Wild?” Sky asked gently. Wild nodded enthusiastically. Grass and fire, some his favorite things. He mouth ‘grass’ as he tucked his thumb against his right palm, sweeping his index finger over the side of his mouth once before dragging it down in front of his chest in a circle to imitate flames.

“Perfect!” Twilight resisted clapping his hand on Wild’s shoulder. The rest of the group was fine with casual touching, Twilight had to keep reminding himself that Wild was different in that aspect. That was fine, they were figuring it out one by one.

The group settled down once again to chat while Wild cooked dinner, signing as best as they could as they talked. Even though Wild could hear them fine, it was good practice. Overall, it looked to be a peaceful evening.

“Wait, can someone do the signs for me again?”

Thank you for reading! Once again, for more information on the signs, please click here if you’re interested.

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harleyhua-archive · 4 years ago

Text

it’s elle again! took me longer than I thought it would, but i’m here with the bio of my second son, harley. he’s my newest oc; i’ve had him for about a year, but i didn’t get to rp much during that time. i’m fluent in asl, so harley has a special place in my heart. usually my gifs that include him signing won’t actually match the signs up to what he’s saying, but this one does. he’s signing ‘hello, my name is....’ so it felt like an appropriate intro post.

[ chella man, genderqueer trans man, 21, he/him ] did you see who just walked in? it was that JUNIOR, the ╳ + HARDWORKING AND - DISORGANIZED ╳ one? you know, the one who lives at SONTHENA HALL, HARLEY HUA! i heard they are majoring in ART and they can’t wait to get out of here to BECOME AN ILLUSTRATOR. crap! stop staring, here they come!

name. harley hua hometown. detroit, mi major. art (illustration) birthday. may 27th, 2000 gender. trans man, genderqueer orientation. pansexual religion. jewish languages. english, asl, some cantonese and french hobbies. cheerleading, drawing, comic books

[ BIO ] [ tw. gender dysphoria ]

harley was born hard of hearing, although it wasn’t discovered until he was six. his audiologist discouraged his parents from teaching him sign, saying he would stop talking and stunt his language skills, so he grew up using his hearing aid and filling in the gaps with lipreading.

his yearly hearing tests showed he was gradually going deaf. he kept getting stronger hearing aids and being able to catch less and less of what was happening around him. the expectation was that he would get better at reading lips, but that only got him so far (only 30% of the English language is visible on the mouth!)

he had been a social kid, but he slowly withdrew into art. there, he could create anything he wanted. he often drew superheroes, or just ‘regular’ civilians (usually men). for a few years, harley took a sketch book and at least three graphic pencils everywhere he went.

in middle school, harley was eligible for a cochlear implant. his parents urged for him to get implanted, but decided to let him make the decision himself. he found a way to compromise with them; he agreed to get the surgery, but in exchange his parents agreed to pay for him and his brother to take ASL classes.

once activated, the implant was an immediate change. the world sounded different through it than what harley remembered, but he could understand his teachers and classmates better than he had in a very long time. he was able to join in again, and went from the kid scribbling in a notebook alone to being very outgoing. once he was able to use an ASL interpreter in classes, his confidence and grades shot up.

in high school, harley was very popular. it didn’t take long for his friends to give him a makeover, convincing him to throw out his baggy tshirts and most of his jeans, in favor of more feminine pieces. mini skirts, heels and crop tops (at least, when he could sneak them past his parents). he grew out his short hair to better hide his cochlear implants, smiling and nodding when he couldn’t keep up in conversations instead of drawing attention to his deafness. for the first time in his life he fit in, and he didn’t want to remind people that he was different.

(tw: dysphoria) but something was different, and it wasn’t his cochlear implants or the fact he was one of the only asian kids at his predominately white high school. something about the way he looked bothered him. he would often stare at himself in the mirror, and he knew the girl staring back at him in the mirror was pretty, but he couldn’t connect with ‘her’. she felt like a completely different person, almost like a mask he wore despite not understanding why he ‘needed’ to wear it or why he felt so numb to his own body.

the huas weren’t really hurting for money, but sending two teenagers to college only a year apart would be tough for any family. harley didn’t want to put that kind of stress on his parents, so he focused on cheerleading scholarships. he toured suffolk because it has one of the best cheer programs in the country. it was a dream school, but he doubted they’d want him on their team, let alone offer him enough money that he could afford to attend. yet that’s exactly what happened, so harley accepted and moved to boston.

during his freshman year of college, he realized nobody cared what he looked like in college. many of his classmates showed up to lectures in their pajamas. he started experimenting with his clothes, trading out the feminine pieces he’d been wearing for the past four years and wearing the things he wanted to; androgynous and masculine pieces. at first he wasn’t so sure why it made him happy, he just knew it did.

(tw: dysphoria) harley had never paid much attention to the trans community. he certainly never thought of himself as trans or genderqueer. sure, he often felt like an alien stuck in someone else’s body, but he assumed that was normal - something every girl secretly felt. after joining his college’s gsa and meeting trans people for the first time and hearing their stories, it began to click. harley came out towards the end of his freshman year of college, and started transitioning a few months later. his parents didn’t try to stop him, but it’s clear they don’t understand. a small part of harley is bothered by this, but he doesn’t let it get him down. it took a long time for them to accept he was deaf, too, but they eventually came around. they’re just slow to accept changes. between that and their refusal to learn ASL, harley isn’t on the best of terms with them, but he doesn’t stop to let this get to him.

overall harley is a very happy kid. he’s at his dream college, living his best life and preparing for the future he’s wanted since he was a kid

[ HEADCANONS ]

not wanting to take much money from his parents, harley works as a bartender three days a week at a popular bar near campus

if he’s not at work or in class, he’s either practicing cheer, working out at the student rec center, or at one of two coffee shops (one being the starbucks in his building, the other being an independent mom-and-pop cafe not far from campus)

he’s basically a jock villager from animal crossing. as stated before, he’s really into cheerleading. since getting his top surgery last summer he’s fallen in love with swimming. he also lifts weights and goes running a couple times a week with nadia.

harley is very busy, and his schedule is constantly fluctuating between working late nights and practices at any time of day. he’s pretty much always sleep deprived, and lives on an insane amount of coffee (he doesn’t like energy drinks).

harley’s preferred method of communication is asl. he uses interpreters in class and is involved with the deaf community in boston. but since most people on the squad only know a limited amount of sign, and other people he knows on campus don’t know the language at all, he often relies on the combination of his cochlear implant and lipreading to communicate. if he can’t hear with his cochlear implant (dead battery, too much background noise, etc) he won’t be able to understand enough by reading lips. but on the other hand, if he’s using his implant to communicate, watching the other person’s mouth helps him fill in the blanks.

[ WANTED CONNECTION ]

teammate // they do cheer together, so they spend a lot of time with each other

asl friends // harley prefers asl, so it would be great for him to have people to sign with!

regular customer // your character hangs out at the bar harley works at. conversely, they’re a bariste at one of the cafes harley is at multiple times a day

workout buddies // they lift weights together

rainbow family // in the queer community, they say you make your own family. harley doesn’t have a great relationship with his parents, and his brother is attending school on the west coast, so harley could use some lgbtq+ family in boston

comic book nerds // harley loves comic books. they were a major escape for him growing up and how he got into drawing in the first place. so maybe your character is also really into comic books, or they just share a passion for the mcu movies

[ FINAL NOTES ]

That’s all I got, but I’m open to almost anything with him. Looking forward to getting to explore him more here!

#suffolksintro #(intro.)

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conorxoblivion · 4 years ago

Photo

{ B A S I C S }

LEGAL NAME: Dorothea Craven Unknown

NICKNAMES: Thea None

ALIAS: Conor

GENDER / PRONOUNS: Female / She/Her

AGE: 28 years old

DOB: January 25th, 1893 Unknown

PLACE OF BIRTH: New Orleans, Louisiana, USA Unknown

YEARS ON MERIDIUM: 99 years

ATTUNEMENT: Air

NATIONALITY: American Unknown

ETHNICITY: African-American, African-Haitian, & white ( English, Irish, French, & German ) Unknown

OCCUPATION: Pilot Unknown

LANGUAGES: English (fluent), French (fluent), Creole (conversational), ASL (elementary proficiency/conversational)

RELIGION: Agnostic

ORIENTATION: Demisexual Biromantic

DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS: OCCASIONALLY | NO | NO

{ P H Y S I C A L A T T R I B U T E S }

HAIR COLOR: Black

EYE COLOR: Brown

HEIGHT: 5′-6″

WEIGHT: 134 lbs

TATTOOS: --

SCARS: --

{ P E R S O N A L I T Y }

TRAITS

+ spunky, daring, witty, charming, bold, dedicated

- challenging, outspoken, impulsive, reactive, skeptical

MBTI: ESFP

ALIGNMENT: True Neutral

LIKES: TBD

DISLIKES: TBD

GOALS/DREAMS: TBD

FEARS: TBD

{ R E L A T I O N S H I P S }

PARENTS

Unknown (mother) - Deceased

Unknown (father) - Deceased

SIBLINGS

Unknown

ROMANTIC

Unknown

{ B I O G R A P H Y }

trigger/content warnings: none

OFFICIAL BIOGRAPHY

You were born to a small family, or at least you think you were. You might have been married judging by the tan line from a ring on your finger, but the ring is long gone along with any other kinds of belongings or items to indicate who you are. You can’t be too sure these days and it’s not because of the years that have passed on this island. The only thing you remember are the waves, the salty air, and the sand. When you woke up, everything was fuzzy and your head ached. How you got there, why you were there, and when you got there. You don’t even know when you’re from. Most importantly, you don’t even know yourself or who you’ve left behind.

When you first woke up, you were floating on a piece of wood and you just couldn’t seem to drown. When you woke up a second time, you were somewhere on an island, far away from anyone. You lived on the island for some time without having contact with anyone, hiding whenever you heard a strange noise, thinking you were alone on this island. You were scared because you don’t know who or where you are. Somehow though, you have enough sense and skill to take care of yourself. Eventually, someone finds you as you talk to yourself and mark the days you’ve spent on the island on a tree. You don’t know how they heard you, but they did. Once they told you everything was okay, all the dust settled and the breeze stopped blowing.

You choose a new name for yourself because you don’t remember your real one. You are shy at first, but soon take on a new personality. You aren’t too sure about how “new” your personality is, but no one on the island knows you or has even heard of you. The tan line on your ring finger slowly fades away and you begin to forget about who may be missing you. And as the years go by, you can’t even be sure what year you are from. You call yourself the woman out of time as you lose track and learn new things from new castaways. You live among the survivors unattached to people and you act indifferent and carefree, claiming you’ve moved on and live in the now. Still, you can only hope though that eventually, the next survivor will have some information as to who you are.

PRE-MERIDIUM

Dorothea “Thea” Craven, was born in 1893 and grew up in the early 1900s during the height of aviation. She became interested in flying at a young age and was very determined and adventurous. She eventually learned to fly and made it her life and a career.

Her family traveled quite a bit when she was younger and learning to speak, so she developed an interest in adventure and languages. Because of this, her accent is difficult to pinpoint. Some may call it a Transatlantic or Mid-Atlantic accent. Her free spirit never changed and she ultimately became a pilot. It is unknown what she was a pilot for whether it was for military, expeditionary, or show purposes.

When Dorothea wanted to become a pilot, she was not allowed to obtain a license at that time in the United States. She ultimately ended up moving to France for a time to take lessons and earn her license.

MERIDIUM

She crash landed in the water around Meridium while she was on a solo flying expedition. It is unknown how and why the plane crashed and whether it was a strange malfunction, pilot error, or sabotage. She has been unable to recover the wreckage of the plane and is unable to determine what really happened to her.

When Thea landed in the water, she hit her head and when she woke up, she had no memory of who she was or how she got there. She didn’t even know she was flying the plane that crashed. She woke up on a piece of wreckage from the plane and soon floated until she hit land. It is suspected her air attunement manifested shortly after landing in the water as she never drowned.

She landed on a side of the island where no one saw her and she thought she was alone. She survived on the island for a few days until she was found by the rest of the survivors on Meridium. Before she was found, she hid from any slight noise that was made, even if it was far away, which she didn’t realize was far away.

Since she didn’t know her name, she chose a new one for herself. She settled on the name Conor, but she wasn’t entirely sure why she chose it. It just spoke to her.

Conor doesn’t remember anything about where she was from, who her family was, or even what year she’s from. She remembers skills and some historical facts, but gets things confused, especially since she’s learned so much about current events from newer survivors.

More will be updated as Conor learns more about herself / as I figure out stuff.

{ A M N E S I A }

THE BASICS

Long story short, Conor remembers things about the outside world and basic things, but she doesn’t remember personal details about them or her own personal memories. It is unknown why she doesn’t remember anything and whether it is mental or physical trauma or something else.

Conor hasn’t made much of an effort to try and recover her memories because she finds it better to not remember what she’s lost than to remember everyone and everything she’s left behind. She’s seen what it’s like for other survivors to cope with the loss of their homes, families, friends, and their old lives.

Conor still gets easily confused about details mainly because over time she’s learned more about the outside world in more modern ways and gets them confused with what she knows and what she’s learned.

At times, remembering things or thinking about what she does know feels like an out of body experience. She remembers things but they feel so far away.

She thinks she must have been married or at least engaged because when she was found, she had a ring tan line on her finger, but has never figured out what happened. Conor does feel sad sometimes like she’s missing someone and may sometimes cry in private, but she’s learned to repress those feelings over time as she’s given up on remembering who they are.

She obviously knows she’s not from modern times or really any time after the 1940s, but she can’t pinpoint her actual birth year and when she grew up. With so much time on the island and spending so much time with more castaways from modern times, she feels much more modern.

EXAMPLES

Conor knows what a car is and how it operates and that the cars she knew were different than they are now, but she doesn’t know if she had a car, who taught her how to drive, or how cars look different than they do now.

Conor knows films exist and has seen older films such as A Trip To The Moon (1902), but she doesn’t remember that she knows about them because she saw them when she was ten years old and not because some film major crash landed on the island and told her about it.

Conor loves and misses music and listened to it a lot. She knows she listened to music on records, but couldn’t tell you specifically what her favorite song was (she does know of specific artists and songs) or if she ever went to parties where they played music.

{ I N T E R V I E W }

What do you remember last before landing here?

The woman looked at the person in front of her, searching for any words that made sense. She couldn’t think of a damn thing. It’d been a few days since she landed on the island and this was the first time she’d seen anyone. She was still surprised that anyone heard her when she spoke to herself. She was sure that she was alone. “I just remember…sand and water. The sun and the sky. I woke up on a piece of driftwood or something. There was some kind of fabric on it and when I thought I was going to drown because I was so exhausted and there wasn’t any kind of land in sight. When I woke up again, I was on sand and that was it.” She bounced her knee up and down as she stared at the person. “I can’t remember anything else. I-I don’t even remember my own name."

Have you ever killed? If so: why? If not: could you?

“I just told you that I don’t even remember my own name,” the woman replied. She knitted her eyebrows in frustration. Did they even hear what she just said? How could they even ask her something like this now. She looked around at the trees blowing over their heads and she let out a heavy sigh. The woman leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. “If I did, would you kick me off the island? Send me back to sea so I can die of heat stroke? Wouldn’t that make you a murderer too?” She raised her eyebrows. She leaned back. “Or did you want to know if I’ve killed someone so I can kill someone else so you don’t have to get your hands dirty?” The person in front of her didn’t seem amused. The woman bit the inside of her cheek. “Let’s just go with no. I haven’t killed someone. And if I did have to kill someone, it’s going to be because of self defense. If you want someone dead, you’ll have to do it yourself or find someone else."

What is your greatest achievement? Biggest regret?

The woman shook her head, laughing without humor. “Greatest achievement? Not dying on the open ocean,” she replied. Considering she didn’t remember anything, surviving a few days on an island by herself seemed like a pretty big achievement. “Biggest regret?” On the other hand, she couldn’t think of what she regretted. She came on the island by herself and couldn’t even say what year it was, which seemed awfully sad. She had a watch, so at least she could tell them what time it was, but there was nothing on it to indicate a year. “I guess I regret not having a calendar on me,” she told them.

#bio #this post is frequently updated!

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bitchy-marvel-dude · 5 years ago

Text

Future’s Past

TW for: Health issues, foster care, minor descriptions of child abuse (not graphic)

This is a reincarnation au i’ve been thinking about for a while. Hope you enjoy. More to come soon.

AO3 link here

Alejandro was born on the last day of June and boy was he mad. He was an angry individual even from the beginning, letting out gut wrenching wails as he was forced from his warm, safe home into a cold, unforgiving operating room. There were blurs of light all around him, smears of gray and white and black, faces not yet focused.

They had shoved something up his nose, down his throat, taped large pads to his little chest, and stuck him in a large plastic tube. Later, Alejandro would find out that the purpose of all of this was because he was born too early - two months early, to be exact. He would find out that his lungs were underdeveloped, something that would affect him into his adult years. He’d find out that there had been a hole in his heart and that, later, they’d had to split his chest open to fix it, which kept him from doing any activity that was too strenuous for the rest of his life. And, perhaps worst of all, he’d learned he had been born half-deaf, and that he had to use hearing aids.

Because of his many health issues, it surprised none of the doctors when the mother declared she didn’t want Alejandro. The baby was placed in foster care, but was bounced around a lot due to no one being able to accommodate for his needs.

No one seemed to want to take the boy to his speech therapist or one of his many doctor’s appointments to make sure his heart and lungs were okay. No one wanted to learn sign language, but no one seemed to want to buy the boy hearing aids so he could understand what they were saying either. He ran through at least six homes a year, his carers not able to handle the boy’s excess energy or his odd fixations.

Alejandro finally learned how to communicate when he was five years old, after his foster family rushed for someone to teach him before school started. The boy could hear, he just couldn’t hear very well - the voices around him were like a swirl of jumbled, faint words and sounds. It was really quite irritating.

But, fortunately, Alejandro took to sign language like a duck to water. He was fluent in ASL by the end of Kindergarten. It didn’t do him much good since his foster parents never seemed to put in the effort to learn themselves, and not even the teacher in his special class knew it, but it was an accomplishment for the boy nonetheless.

It was when his latest foster family dumped him onto a new pair of inexperienced parents and the bruises started appearing on his arms and legs, however minor the injuries were, when his memories were triggered.

It had been when his foster mother slapped him for the first time that his past life came rushing back. Snippets, at first. A tall, broad man with fiery red hair, smelling of booze and with stumbling steps. The slap hadn’t hurt, not that much anyway, not with how wasted the man was, but it was obviously an important memory if it was the first one to come back to him…

He had rubbed a hand against his stinging cheek and contemplated the memory in his small bedroom.

There was a notebook in his backpack. Brand new, meant to be for reading class, though Alejandro knew nothing would be put in it besides a few cut out pieces of paper. He took one of his new pencils in a chubby, uncoordinated hand, writing down the memory on a page of notebook paper, trying to get down as many details as possible.

Long, red hair pulled back into a ponytail… booze, probably whiskey… a sharp sting on his cheek that faded quickly…

He was missing something. A blank. He had everything else, but there was one key piece he needed to know why this memory was so special….

He thought about the feeling that had washed over him when his foster mother had hit him.

Confusion, fear, shock, betrayal…

But that doesn’t make sense, Alejandro thought. I’ve known her for less than a day… unless the feelings came from the memory.

Fear. The fear obviously came from the man. From the booze on his breath and the mean look in his violet-blue eyes.

Confusion… it was obvious that that had never happened before, if he had been confused… perhaps it was the first time his past-self had been hit?

The shock obviously came from the slap itself, but the betrayal… had he been close to the man that had hit him? An uncle, perhaps? Or a brother?

But the memory was triggered by my foster mother hitting me, his brain reminded him. So it was probably a parental figure of some sort. Maybe my father…?

Well. He would find out soon enough.

Once the first memory was triggered, it was only a matter of time before the rest came flooding in.

Most people got their first memory when they were twelve to thirteen years old. Usually triggered around the time the child hit puberty. Of course, that wasn’t the only time a person could get their first memory, it was just the most common.

For example, those who were born farther into the past - say, the 1600s - were more likely to start remembering things in their twenties, or even their thirties. Memories are triggered by similar situations occurring to an especially strong memory from one’s past life. Because of this, and because the world is so vastly different now than it was in the 1600s, it takes a while for people to experience that.

Getting your memories before the age of ten was incredibly rare, though not unheard of. It usually happened if your past life had died less than twenty years before you were born, especially if, in your past life, you died young.

Alejandro was a bit of an anomaly. So far, he didn’t know what century he had been born in. He didn’t know too many details about his past life. He only knew the basics, from brief flashes of old memories. The smell of the ocean, the feeling of hunger panging in his belly, vibrant red hair falling in his face as he ran across the beach, close to the water, a woman in long, wrinkled skirts following behind him, smiling at him fondly.

That was another important clue that Alejandro had jotted down, the memories keeping him restless until he could write down every last detail. The sight, the feeling, the smell, the taste…

Not the sound. The universe couldn’t even be merciful enough to grant him with clear sounds from over a hundred years ago.

The skirts suggested that his past life had been at least two hundred years ago, maybe a bit longer. He knew he had lived next to the ocean, perhaps somewhere on the coast? Though that made no sense, either, given the time period, and the water was far too clear, the air far too warm…

Which left the Caribbean.

He wrote down what he knew, every fact, every tiny, dismal thing. He knew he had had stringy red hair. He knew he lived on an island. He knew that he had lived centuries ago, given his mother’s clothing, and that they weren’t particularly wealthy, given the state of said clothing.

He knew his father had hit him. He knew he was drunk when he did. He didn’t know how often his father had hit him, and he didn’t know how often his father had drunk. These remained mysteries, for the time being, at least until he could figure it out…

He flexed his fingers, ran them through his thick brown hair. He was frustrated. But he was going to figure it out. It was just a mystery, a lot like the ones he saw on TV where he knew who the murderer was halfway through the film while the protagonist remained oblivious… Except, in this situation, he was the protagonist, and the universe was watching as he came undone.

He finally got his hearing aids, and most of his memories, when he was nine years old. The hearing aids were because the grouchy, middle aged man that had taken him in needed him to be able to hear if he was going to help him in his scrap yard.

The hearing aids were cheap, and they fit awkwardly on his ears. They were heavy, and they rang sometimes, and they never seemed to be in the right setting. He loathed them.

In the years since he first got his memories, he had long since stopped referring to himself as ‘Alejandro’. Alejandro was the name his birth mother had given him before abandoning him just because he couldn’t hear well. He loathed the name more than he loathed his own miserable existence.

He’d taken to calling himself Alexander, and telling others to do it as well. Alexander was the name his past life’s mother had given to him, and Alex liked her a lot more than he liked his own mother.

Alexander was currently struggling to lift up a large piece of scrap and separate it from all the other junk. His foster father, per usual, sat in the shade with a busted up radio and a class of spiked ice tea, watching him work and calling out to him unhelpfully whenever he slowed down.

And, of course, he couldn’t defend himself. His foster father didn’t know sign language, and Alexander didn’t know how to talk properly, as he’d never learned. He understood what others were saying, but whenever he talked it came out all garbly and weird.

Alex knew he wasn’t supposed to be working. Not in the heat, and certainly not with anything as heavy as metal. His doctor reminded him of it whenever his foster family bothered to take him for a checkup - your heart is too weak, Alejandro, your lungs too. You work too hard, your heart could give out and you could die, no joke.

His current foster father seemed to take it as a joke, however. Because he had Alexander working as hard as ever. From seven thirty AM to six PM, separating scrap metal, getting sunburn on his arms and neck and little shallow cuts on his hands. At least he was up to date on his tetanus shot.

He should’ve been in school, learning. But his foster father, Gabe, had insisted upon him being home schooled, only to force him to do all his work instead of teaching him. Figured.

Alex let out a sharp breath as the piece of scrap he was holding cut into his palm. The sweat only made it sting. He took in a wheezing breath. His shoulders ached. Blood was dripping down his palm. He felt like he was about to faint.

He breathed in sharply, but it still felt like it wasn’t enough. His hair was so drenched in sweat, it felt like his hearing aids were slipping and sliding. They never did fit properly.

He saw Gabe shift in his seat, looking like he was moving to stand up. He rubbed his hands up and down his jeans, drying them off. The cut burned. He picked up the scrap metal, and threw it toward the correct pile. He tried to distract himself by going through old memories - memories of John - or Jack, as he was prone to calling him -, of Gilbert, of Washington, his stern commander, of his dearest Betsey…

God, he missed them. Every day, he missed them. He even missed Jefferson, at times.

He was thinking about Jefferson, and his dumbass purple jacket, when a sharp pain lanced through his chest, and his knees buckled, the world going dark.

#Hamilton #Alexander Hamilton #Oneshot #My Fic #Hamliza #Foster Care #part of a series #there will be more

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ofthcheart · 5 years ago

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[ KIM YERIM, SHE/HER, CIS FEMALE ] — [ WILLOW RYU ] is a child of [ APHRODITE ] with the power of [ AMOKINESIS, CHARMSPEAK ] . they were born in [ 1996 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2012 ] . with the change, they [ HAVE GRADUATED FROM ] the [ STANDARD ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ STUDYING OR PAINTING ].

hello it’s kel i am a late disaster again but here is willow’s survey !!

i. basics

full name: willow ryu

nickname: will

gender: cis female

pronouns: she/her

power/s: amokinesis, charmspeak

weapon/s: a very small throwing knife

dominant hand: right

sexual orientation: pansexual

romantic orientation: panromantic

age: 24

birthday: february 19, 1996 (@ 8:04 am)

role: standard

focus in role: existing

zodiac sign: pisces sun / pisces moon / pisces ascendant

birth place: atlanta, ga

hometown: marietta, ga

living condition ( in nl or off site ): in nl

spoken languages: english (native), asl (fluent), latin (basic)

ii. appearance

face claim: kim yerim (yeri)

hair color: black

eye color: brown

ethnicity: korean

nationality: american

height: 5′3

piercings: ears

tattoos: nl tattoo on her right ankle

birthmarks: n/a

scars: on her knees

iii. psychology

sociability: very

phobias: bugs

vices: bread

alignment ( x ): neutral good

briggs-myers ( x & x ): ENFP

temperaments ( x & x ): phlegmatic

enneagram ( x & x ): #2 (the giver)

how do they view themselves? selfish, doing her best

how do others view them? kind, crybaby

iv. mannerisms:

speech style: slow, lilting

accent: slight atlanta accent (ex)

hobbies: sketching, painting, baking (poorly)

motivations: having a positive impact on other people

v. relationships

human parent: michael ryu

godly parent/grand parents: aphrodite

siblings: none on her father’s side.

relationship with the human family: positive

relationship with godly parent: neutral

what was their childhood like? lonely, she never really had a solid group of friends or a best friend — she was well liked but spent a lot of time alone.

pets: a large, white cat (likely has maine coon in it)

ideal significant other: someone with a sense of humor, makes her a better person

vi. misc

glasses/contacts? glasses

clothing style: feminine, floral, lace

favorite food: biscuits

favorite desert: cobblers

favorite hot drink: coffee

favorite cold drink: peach iced tea

favorite movie: 10 things i hate about you

favorite show: friends

favorite book: the seven husbands of evelyn hugo

favorite weather: partly cloudy, warm

coffee or tea: coffee

cats or dogs: cats

pineapples on pizza or no pineapples on pizza? she is mildly allergic to pineapple, but has no strong feelings on the matter

vii. traits

positive: kind, energetic, hopeful

negative: passive, exploitable, stubborn

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganised / organised / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / unempathetic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between

faithful / unfaithful / in between

viii. ic questionnaire ( some of these can be hard for your character to answer normally so you can add striked text to show what they’re thinking ! )

why did you come to nl? safety, primarily. it took longer for anything too dangerous to find me, but i didn’t want to put my dad at risk once they did.

how are you dealing with the recent changes? whatever leadership thinks is best is what i will do. it doesn’t involve me, i just live here. i’m worried for the others who have to go out and fight these weird possessed things while worrying about humans, though. i don’t want them to think we’re weird or a threat.

what did you do before the change? studied, primarily. same as now. not very hard, mind you. i just work internally, stay out of trouble.

why did you get into the role you’re in? i have no interest or aptitude for heroics, i’d much rather stay behind the scenes, away from the public eye.

how do you like it? was this the role you wanted to be in? yes, it is the safest. ambassador requires too much speaking and, like i mentioned, saving people isn’t for me.

if you could be in any other role, what would it be? if i had to choose another, probably ambassador. it seems to be the least draining of the others. but i really am perfectly happy as is.

how do you like your powers? i don’t, not really. i try not to use them, i don’t like making people do things they wouldn’t otherwise do or affecting their feelings, especially as i still don’t have them most control over them.

how much control do you have of your powers? enough. not very much. i accidentally use them sometimes, when i don’t even really want to. so i just try to avoid language that might affect others.

what are some of your goals? i just want to graduate college at this point. i’ll figure out the rest after.

what game could you destroy everyone in? uno

what did you want to be when you grew up? an actress

thoughts on your own singing voice? not great, but i can carry a tune.

what’s your greatest fear? easy, death.

what are some things you always carry with you? lip balm, a pen, tissues, women’s products.

do you drive? when i need to.

if yes, how have people described your driving? i am an extremely safe and perfectly good driver. (mun note: she is not.)

what’s your favorite book and why? i really like the seven husbands of evelyn hugo because it kept me on my toes. i wasn’t expecting the twist and everything after was shocking. plus, i think part of me still wishes i could’ve been a movie star, so i like the idea of the glamour and behind the scenes look.

what’s your favorite tv or movie genre? romantic comedies.

#nlintro #intro: willow.#crystal revamp lets go #i dont remember her initial birthday but accidentally finding a triple pisces while trying to do aquarius sun/pisces moon felt Right

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theskyeandsea · 5 years ago

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Silent Library || Orion & Skylar

Timing: May 8th, 2020

Location: Scribe HQ

Tagging: @3starsquinn

Description: Orion and Skylar team up to try and figure out just what the source of White Crest’s silence problem is. Unfortunately, the answers are far from reassuring.

“You’ll want to park right around here,” Orion directed Skylar, motioning anywhere around to find a parking spot that led off into the woods. He was absent mindedly signing the communication as well, not that she could really see it while she was driving. “We will have to walk the rest of the way from here.” Showing people the Scribe building for the first time was always a mixed bundle of emotions. Nervousness and excitement. Despite it’s outdated and abandoned appearance, Rio loved the place. It wasn’t exactly the cleanest or most inviting building in the world, but ever since Winston helped with restoring some of the power, he had been making good progress along in the library with some help. While the rest of the building was still a bit musty, the library was at least all cleaned out and lit up. It didn’t seem like much, by Rio was really proud of the progress and was excited to show it off to Skylar. “We gotta walk through the woods for awhile here, it’s deeper back behind the college.” He glanced sideways as he walked, signing and keeping an eye on Skylar in case she was signing something back. First Athena, and now Skylar both claiming that they just stop being able to speak. Rio wasn’t sure what the common factor was. Wasn’t even sure that there was a common factor. But it sure seemed too suspicious to be coincidence.

Nodding at his words, Skylar pulled her car off the side of the road and into the parking area. Everything was still happening in a haze. Her entire body felt numb, just from the loss of… the one thing she could do. Her entire world revolved around being able to talk, being able to speak with others. Connecting, building relationships, breaking down walls, she couldn’t do any of that without her voice. No one could ever understand what she had lost. How much she had lost. And how badly she needed it back. Exiting the car, she followed Rio through the woods, shoulders slumped as she walked alongside him. All she could hope for was that the scribe library had answers, that the books could provide her with some kind of information to fix this. Okay. Sounds good to me. She signed back at Rio, her expression glum. Thank you again for helping me. I didn’t know who else to ask. Or who would be able to understand. She said, gesturing to herself with a sigh. As much as she had worked to try and build a community of people who used ASL, a few months of work did not a community make. Which left her alone, with only a few people who could understand.

“Don’t worry about it. Anytime.” Orion spoke and signed back at Skylar. He couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. He wasn’t always a talkative person, usually finding comfort in staying silent in a lot of cases. But that was by choice, and he had still been able to sing along to a song or mumble to himself. This was… another level. With multiple people affected, it was harder to believe that this was some one-off stroke of bad luck or a Fae promise. There was a connection here. Rio just hadn’t figured it out yet. But he needed to. If he didn’t… well Skylar had to get her voice back. So it wasn’t an option. They crept through the woods until they got to the where the entrance to the Scribe building was. “So, this is pretty cool.” He motioned towards Skylar, finding the tree that held the key and puzzle to get in. He fiddled with it, the trick becoming so secondhand to him that he barely even registered doing it, and a few moments later the Scribe building became visible through a fog of magic. He motioned Skylar along, through the archway and up to the main door. “The place is still pretty dusty, but the library is pretty clean now. Finally.” he laughed, pushing through the doors and heading down the long hallways that would lead them to the library. “So, remind me. Did anything weird or specific happen that you think may have something to do with you losing your voice? I’m trying to figure out why some people in town were affected but others weren’t.”

Feet trudging along in the dirt behind Rio, Skylar glanced around at their surroundings. She knew that Rio was taking her to a building, but where was it? She couldn’t see anything other than more and more woods. And while that thought would normally fill her with some amount of trepidation, the idea of being in a place that she couldn’t even see, she barely cared as she followed along. She just needed answers. She needed a cure. A cure to this and then… a way to make sure it never happened again. But, a part of her wondered if this was all part of… if this was penitence. Atonement, for not embracing the Selkie side of herself. If she’d just changed in the river or the ocean, would she still be able to speak? Swallowing, she was brought back to the present when Rio showed her the strange puzzle that made the building seem to appear out of the mist that surrounded them. The way his eyes lit up was lost on her, but she forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she followed behind him. As he pushed ahead, Skylar jogged forward to sign at him, No. I don’t really know what could have happened. I turned in the pool, I was swimming around in there. And then, there was something weird with the pipes, and I screamed. But, I didn’t scream. There wasn’t any noise. She looked at him plaintively. She hoped that this library, with its vast array of books, would be able to help her.

Orion had to think. Something like this didn’t just happen. Something had to cause it. But Orion knew that he didn’t exactly have as many resources as the Scribes used to. They had an entire network of people to bounce ideas off of, contacts with local supernatural places and covens. Rio had an oversized library and google. “Something weird with the pipes? What do you mean?” Rio asked, not sure that it was connected at all, but hearing the rest of her day, that was the only thing that really seemed to stand out. It was at least a start. Rio found one of the tables and slid on top of it, using his feet to rock one of the chairs back and forth. “You haven’t like… made anyone mad lately have you?” He couldn’t completely discount the idea of some kind of curse.”

Picking her way carefully through the library, Skylar watched as Rio walked through the library. He seemed so at home here, it was a place that seemed to just suit him. Like he was meant to be here. As Rio began to question her, she thought back to her conversation with Remmy, about the strange goo that they’d touched. The stuff that had stuck to their hand. Frowning, Skylar signed at Rio, There was a weird… goo? Something sticky. And dark. It came out of the pipes. I thought it might just be… bad pipes, because the house is new? She shrugged. At their question, Skylar tried to think about who she might have annoyed, who she might have angered. But, no one came to mind. I don’t think so? But, maybe she had without knowing it..?

Goo? Orion had come a long way with his ASL, but he still wouldn’t consider himself completely fluent by any means. He didn’t catch everything Skylar was saying but he seemed to grasp the basics. Dark goo? She couldn’t be talking about… the stuff that the mimes bled right? Rio and his roommates, plus Harsh, had found that the stuff existed outside of the mimes, but that had come from one of the mime restaurants. It wasn’t something that should have ended up in any pipes. Plus, Rio had been around the stuff when he had stabbed Winston’s mime and he still had his voice. But it still seemed just a bit too coincidental. “Did it have a smell? The goo?” He remembered the goo at the restaurant vividly. The smell had been surprisingly pleasant, like a bakery or pastries. Certainly not like what someone would imagine a black, viscous goo to smell. But regardless, it was enough of a basis to at least start a search. “I found something weird at that mime restaurant when I went there last night” Rio began, hopping off of the table and making his way down the aisles of the library, running his hand along the wooden shelves until he reached where the row he wanted and turned to the left, following down to a large section of old, leather bound journals. “This section has all kinds of first hand accounts from Scribes that recorded supernatural occurrences in White Crest. I think that black goo may have something to do with it, but I haven’t had much luck figuring out what that black goo is yet.” Aside from its connections to the killer mime clones. “If it has shown up in White Crest prior to the 80’s, I promise it’s in this section, somewhere. But uh- It’s a big section.”

Frowning at Rio’s question, Skylar sifted through the jumbled up haze of her memories. Did it smell good..? She couldn’t remember the specifics surrounding it, she had mostly been startled that something had come out of the pipes that she hadn’t expected. But… now that she was thinking about it, maybe? Maybe the fruity scent that had filled her nose hadn’t been from her shampoo, but had been from the goo? Maybe? I don’t really know. I was in the shower, it mostly smelt like my shampoo. She said with a confused shrug. Why does that matter? She asked inquisitively. Not that she doubted Rio, but she just didn’t understand. She didn’t understand any of this. Then again, that’s why she was here with him. The mime restaurant..? Why were you there to begin with? Skylar signed, confused. Mimes were terrifying, why would Rio even want to hang out at a restaurant full of them? But, the question really didn’t matter. She didn’t need more questions, she needed answers. There was just so much that she didn’t know. As he direct her to one of the aisles of the library, Skylar’s eyes widened in shock as she took in the stacks and stacks of books in front of her. Letting out a sigh, she nodded. Okay. Let’s get started? She rolled up the sleeves of her sweater with a grim expression on her face.

“There’s this stuff that I keep coming into contact with. This like… black goo or tar like liquid. It has like a bakery smell to it. Weird, I know.” Orion explained, trying to multitask between talking, signing and glancing at the words sketched into the leather bound journals. At least the Scribes had been good at cataloguing things. For the most part, they had wanted things to be a relatively simple find, so they liked to give a synopsis on the outside cover or the first page of each journal that they had written themselves. Back in the day, maybe they had had a better system for keeping the library organized that hadn’t survived the thirty years that the place had been abandoned. “Long story. I was there after hours and there was the weird goo and then this monster thing and… It was normal Winston and Ricky shenanigans.” Rio paused, not sure how to sign the word for shenanigans. “Uh- I don’t know how to sign that.” He admitted defeat after a long moment, obviously disappointed with himself. “I think they may be connected, but I don’t know for sure. I can’t find much information on supernatural demon mimes on here, so apparently they haven’t been around for too long. Which if you didn’t know, is apparently a thing. They’re definitely not human.” He laughed, but it was more nervous laughter than humorous. “There’s a couple of books specifically talking about weird phenomena in town. I say that’s probably our best bet?” He suggested, reaching and grabbing a few journals and tucking them under his arm. “Might as well get started here and see if anything jumps out at us.”

Bakery smell? Skylar’s forehead knitted together in confusion at that. She couldn’t remember smelling any kind of bakery items when she was in the shower. Like she had already told him, it was mostly just the smell of shampoo. Why would it even smell like that to begin with? She trailed after Rio, doing her best to hide the fear that lurked in the edge of her expression. She didn’t know what she was looking for here and, even if Rio seemed confident that they would find the answers, she wondered what would happen if they didn’t. What would they do if she was stuck like this forever? Her face paled slightly at the mention of Ricky, but she pushed the thought of him away. You don’t need to sign. I can still hear you. I still have my hearing aids. She signed back at him before nodding. Selecting a few books off the shelves, she followed him to a nearby table and opened up one of the large volumes. The appearance of the mimes is as unknowable as the mimes themselves, She signed as she read, confused. Unknowable? Mmmmm. That didn’t sound good.

Orion found another spot to hop onto a table and picked the first book to look through. By this point he had gotten pretty good at skimming, and could only imagine how good he efficient this process would be when he started to get things moved over to an online platform. It seemed like an impossible dream at the moment, but he had high hopes. “Oh, right I know that.” Rio admitted, continuing to sign despite Skylar telling him that he didn’t need to. “But I need the practice. Plus, it just didn’t seem fair you know? I’d try to match you and not talk too but I don’t think my sign language is that good yet.” He shrugged and offered a smile, diving into one of the books and looking for anything that stood out to him.

With a wan smile, Skylar nodded at Rio before reading through her stack of books. For hours, it seemed, they remained at the table, pouring over the books and journals. She scoured the texts for any hint of something that would give her an idea of what had happened to her. But, as she shut journal after journal, she couldn’t help but feel the panic growing within her. What if she never found a cure? What if she never found out what had happened to her? What if she was stuck like this, forever? Staring blankly at the book in front of her, Skylar took a deep breath, to steady her nerves. She was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. This was going to… to all work out. It had to. As she looked down at the page, her eyes fell on a word. Mute. Eyes widening, she read the page before waving emphatically at Rio to get his attention. Young teenagers from White Crest High School have taken to ingesting the strange dark substance that flows from the earth. Once consumed, Scribes noted that those who consumed the sweet smelling fluid were plagued with visions of black and white, and were rendered mute. She signed rapidly, hitting the section of the book with her free hand. This. This stuff! This has to be it.

Orion hadn’t had much luck skimming through his books. He had repositioned multiple times during their study session, but had now settled with lying on his back on top of the table, holding the book above him and flipping through the pages absentmindedly. Unfortunately for White Crest, it seemed to have an incredibly storied history of weirdness. That made it the worst place to live as well as an incredibly hard place to narrow down a single bit of history about it. But Rio wasn’t going to give up. Not when Skylar’s voice was at risk, or his sister’s for that matter. Sure, the idea of a quiet Athena seemed appealing, but he wouldn’t actually wish permanent silence upon her. Eventually, Skylar began waving her arms frantically and Rio sat up and focused on what she was signing. He got the gist, picking up on most of what she was saying. “Can I see it?” He asked, wanting to be able to read it himself to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. “I know what they’re talking about.” Rio jumped off the table excitedly, running back down the hall and pulling books from the shelves and making his way back to the table where Skylar was. “It’s called The Sauce.” He dropped a couple books down, flipping through until he could find the page he was looking for, “I had seen it in journals before but never knew what they were talking about. But it describes a goo just like that. And this guy,” He paused, so he could turn the book around and show it off to Skylar, “Has a map of exactly where to find it.”

Waiting as Rio read the text for himself, Skylar fingers twitched anxiously on the table, not really signing anything. Her knee was bobbling up and down under the desk as she let him finish. The second he was done, he popped off the table, running back to grab some more books. Yet again, Skylar wished that she had her voice back. Just so that she could tell him something… like, how she’d be waiting here. Just… something. Anything. Opening her mouth, she tried to make the words come, tried to summon a single sound. But, nothing came out. Only silence. Skylar stared unhappily at the table in front of her. She hoped that whatever book he was getting had the answer. When he flipped open the books, she schooled her face into what she hoped was an appropriately excited expression, The Sauce? She asked, fingerspelling it just to make sure she had it right. Okay. Okay, so there’s this Sauce. But, what do we do when we find it? More wouldn’t help, right?

Sure, Orion had gotten a little caught up in the excitement of the discovery that he had sort of lost track of why they were looking for answers in the first place. Finding some place called the sauce didn’t exactly help them fix the problem, but the text may have offered an answer for them. “So that text you found, it mentioned that the student’s voices came back.” In most cases at least. This case was different. In this case, somehow the stuff from the sauce had gotten out. In pipes and in mime restaurants and in the mimes themselves. Something was different and very very wrong. “I’m starting to think that this sauce is the connection we’ve been looking for.” Or rather, he had been looking for. He just hadn’t known before a couple hours ago that the mimes he had been dealing with were connected with Skylar losing her voice. “I don’t know that we will find anything there that is going to help get your voice back, but it could help us figure out why it has been happening.” He didn’t want to go honestly, but the curious side of him needed to know what the place was all about, “But according to those accounts, their voices returned after a few days. We should keep reading your book, see if there were any stories from students who got their voices back more quickly.”

All Skylar could do was listen to Rio and process what he was saying. The Scribes, they… they had so much information. No wonder Rio had been so excited about this place, if they had this kind of first hand knowledge at their disposal. Nodding, she forced herself to push back the anxiety that was creeping up in the pit of her stomach. If he thought it was a good idea, to figure out why things were happening, why the town was being affected by this awful stuff… then she would take it. Nodding slowly, Skylar chewed the inside of her cheek. They had to figure out what was going on. For the good of White Crest. Because, if other people were being affected by this, she wanted to make sure that it stopped for good. She shuddered to think how some of her students might be affected-- were they going through this too? No. She couldn’t… she had to do her best to stop this. Okay. Let’s do that. She signed before frowning. It had been several days since she’d lost her voice, but there was no sign of it returning any time soon. That’s a good idea. Maybe they did something different?

“It’s worth a look at least, right?” Orion shrugged. He happily jumped back into the reading, wishing that he would find some magic catch all that would fix Skylar’s vocal problem. But no matter how much digging he did into it, all of the stories about the sauce all seemed to say the same thing. Every year on some stupid dare, some kids would drink the sauce. They experienced temporary loss of voice among other issues and eventually things would return to normal for the most part. No tips or tricks about someone finding a way to get their voice back quicker, despite Rio’s insistence that he would figure something out. He didn’t want to be a disappointment. “I really hate saying this because I hate admitting defeat,” Rio finally sighed after another hour or two of reading. It was hard to keep track when he was deep into studying. “But I think the only cure for this is time.”

I guess so. The hours ticked by and as Skylar poured over journal after journal, book after book, she was at more and more of a loss. It seemed that there was nothing that could be done. There wasn’t any cure, nothing that could speed the process up. And, as the day drew to a close and they were no closer to finding an answer than they were before, she let out a sigh. Resting her head against the table, she ran her hands through her hair. Her fingertips brushed against her hearing aids as she idly flipped them on and off, silence and then the sound of pages turning. Silence, and then the rustling of her shirt. Ugh. Eventually, Rio spoke up and she looked up at him with a faint smile. Thank you for trying to help, though. I really appreciate it. And, thank you for showing me this place. For trusting me enough to bring me here.

Orion felt defeated. He wished that he had something else to tell her or offer her. But instead he had no answers. Did this happen to the Scribes back in the day? Or had they had the answers to everything? Apparently not, or they’d still be functioning today. “I wish there was more that I could do.” Orion signed as he spoke, picking back up on the habit, “I’ll keep looking into it. See if I can find something that I missed today.” He hopped off the table again, stuffing the book that he had been reading into his book bag and throwing it over his shoulders. “Anytime. Just let me know whenever you need something and I’ll meet you over here or do some research for you.” He smiled at her, working to remain positive despite the failure he felt.

Swallowing, Skylar did her best to look more cheerful than she felt, more confident than she seemed. But, with time as their only lead on how to get her voice back, she couldn’t help the despair that clutched at her. Some part of her wondered if this was a punishment. If her silence was what she deserved, for trying to… push away the selkie nature. For trying to refuse the sea. Maybe that’s not how magic worked, maybe it’s not how any of it worked. But, she had no idea what the rules were to this world. And the only person who might have been able to tell her otherwise, he wanted nothing to do with her. As Rio packed up his bag, she nodded. She’d have to drive him back there, to Winston’s home. To Ricky’s home. And she’d have to remember how much Ricky didn’t want to see her anymore. Forcing the thought from her mind, she signed, Thank you. Just let me know, okay?

#wickedswriting #p: orion quinn #p: sl

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