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the-river-person · 3 years

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Epilogue

Wind swept through the red grass like a wave upon the sea, sending ripples down the slopes of the endless hills. In the lowest valleys the grass vanished into a soft white fog, making the hilltops seem as if they were detached from the earth and floating through an ocean of clouds. Sans gazed around in wonder, while also having to shield his eyes a little. Above them the sky was a thousand blending shades of purple, everything from a deep angry bruise to a very soft lilac. At the edge of the Horizon was the sun, and from here it looked a very deep red color, and though it wasn’t terribly bright, he still had to shield his eyes. It seemed that he needed some time for his eyes to properly adjust to seeing the surface in all of its overwhelming brightness after living in the muted and shadowed Underground for all his life. Well for lifetimes on end, really. Mouth open wide, and eye lights nearly pinpricks in shock, Gaster too appeared to be too stunned for words at the sight of this world. Sans knew that his uncle had been around to see the Surface of their own Universe, and judging by Gaster’s reaction, it was nothing at all like this. The River Person had taken them to this place because he said it was still a relatively safe Universe to visit for a little while. Comfortably seated in his ferry boat, the River Person didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere soon, so they’d opted to explore for a bit while staying in sight. Arriving at another Universe was just as bizarre as leaving one had been. It was as if there was a reflective orb in the distance, only when you got closer it wasn’t you that it was reflecting, but a place. And if you got close enough it was as if the reflection warped and twisted itself so that it swallowed you and you were sitting in another Universe as smoothly as if you’d landed your boat at the docks. Actually the ferryboat itself was sitting in the middle of the red grass, and looked perfectly natural there as if it were supposed to sail across the sea of red grass and plants instead of up and down a river. Out in the distance the world got even stranger. To the right, he wasn’t sure what the compass direction was because the red sun appeared to be circling the horizon instead of crossing overhead in an arc, he could see bright glow that spanned the whole edge of the sky in that direction, as if the area was filled with light. And to the left the sky seemed to get darker and darker until the horizon that way was shadowed and still. “Pretty, isn’t it?” “Yes,” he breathed, still trying to take it all in. The next moment he leaped away in shock as he realized the comment had come from someone who had unexpectedly been standing beside him. It was a skeleton, somewhat similar to himself in appearance but not quite. Wearing brown pants that might have been tucked in overalls by the green straps that were sticking out from one side of the waist, a white shirt, and a long brown scarf... the skeleton’s clothing alone made a strong first impression of him. But more interesting than that were the splotch of black ink that coated the bottom right side of his jaw and the enormous paint brush that he carried on his back like a sheathed sword. Over his chest was a belt holding a series of tiny phials with heart shaped stoppers, each phial held a different colored liquid within, and altogether and in order they formed a kind of rainbow pattern. Finally, around his neck and hanging down his back was an incredibly long scarf of some brown fabric. The Skeleton was grinning at him, mischief dancing in his eye sockets, which Sans had only just realized contained some odd shapes. In his left eye, the pupil was shaped like a bright, five pointed, golden star (☆), twinkling merrily as if to say “I’m excited!” to all the world. And in his right eye the pupil took the shape of... and this left Sans feeling more bewildered than anything else, a small purple 7. But even as he watched the pupils changed shape, and again, and again. A spiral (๑), a triangle border with nothing inside (△), a check mark (✓), an eroteme (?), a small crescent moon (☽), a pair of squiggly lines that might have been either water or a double tilde (≈), a silcrow (§), a percontation point (⸮), and a very small umbrella (☂). “Hullo!” said the skeleton. “I’m Ink! Guardian of the Multiverse and Protector of AUs!” Gaster, who had turned around to see what Sans had been reacting to, was examining the newcomer with something akin to professional curiosity. “AUs?” he asked, tilting his skull slightly to the side. “Alternate Universes,” clarified Ink. “And parallel ones. And pretty much any other kind of universe that springs up. So... now that I’ve introduced myself, who are you two?” Other universes, the thought was a little frightening. Sure he’d heard Gaster practically wax poetic on the subject numerous times, and here he was standing in another universe entirely. But it was different hearing someone else talk about them existing, as if they’d seen them with their own eyes. An entire multiverse full of them. And if Ink was truly the Guardian of that Multiverse and every universe inside of it, then he must be a really important person. “I’m Sans-” he started to say, not sure whether there was special protocol for introducing yourself to a Multiverse Guardian, but Ink was already cutting him off, flapping his hand impatiently at them. “No no no. There are way too many Sanses and Gasters floating about. Even I’m a Sans. We like to use... well I guess you’d call them nicknames. They help keep us from getting confused. More confused. Some people use the name of their AU, others ” Somewhat at a loss, Sans turned to look at Gaster, who only shrugged unhelpfully. Well alright then. A nickname huh? His thoughts raced back years and years, decades, centuries, all the way to that very first therapy session with Doctor Whimsol. She’d suggested that he didn’t have to be a Sans if he didn’t feel like one. For a while he’d toyed with various other names, mostly Fonts in the style of Skeleton naming conventions. But he’d never really made anything of it. Perhaps one of the ones he’d liked would do? Something that suited him the way that he was now. He’d changed a great deal since then. There was no way anyone would think of him in formal terms, even now. But he was a bit more serious, even though he tried to stay approachable. He wasn’t suffering from depression and guilt, and he was a lot more active than he had been. So something light-hearted but serious, informal like, with a sense of movement.... It came to him and he grinned suddenly. “Mistral,” he informed the Guardian of the Multiverse. “I’m Mistral.“ Looking intrigued, Ink nodded enthusiastically. “It suits you! A little rough of a font, sort of like brush writing, but with this... um... crystal stuff on your bones, it really works.” Oh yeah, Sans had forgotten about the Kenón still growing on him. It had sped up its growth a bit in the Void, which made sense because they were already connected. Small spikes of silvery-grey crystal were now easily seen growing up from the collar of his shirt and from his sleeves, and tiny lumps were beginning to form under his usual overcoat that betrayed the crystals growing underneath. “I think,” said Gaster suddenly, “That I would like to be known as Majuscule.” Sans stared at him. “You want to be named after Capitalized Letters?” he asked incredulously. It wasn’t a font. Though they weren’t really required to stick to those if they truly didn’t want to. But it was related enough that it was odd that Gaster would want to choose that of all things for a name. The smile the scientist gave him was a smug one. “When I use the Wingdings Sign variant it really doesn’t differentiate between Minuscule and Maguscule symbols like the font does in physical writing. And since I cannot speak it out loud and adjust the volume of my speech, it is as if I am saying everything in capitalized letters, constantly speaking with maximum intensity all the time.” Oh Angel, of course Gaster would choose something that convoluted. Sans groaned and rolled his eyes, surprisingly Ink only looked amused and actually giggled, his eyes flitting between an octothorp followed immediately by an S (#S) , an ecphoneme (!), an on/off symbol, and an asterisk (*). “I’m guessing you guys are new travelers to the Multiverse. That means you’re the ones I was looking for. You see, I felt a Universe die recently, and I went to go protect it from whatever was causing it to be destroyed. But it was dying on its own, of old age. I’ve never seen a Universe do that before, reach its natural ending. Then I found a trail in the Void, the sort of paths the River Folk make when they travel, and I knew that someone must have escaped before everything fell apart. And well... here you are!” Ink smirked and stuck out his tongue in a sort of “blep” way. Somewhere in the back of his head, Sans couldn’t help but notice that the tongue was rainbow hued. But now that he was reminded, he had more important questions. “Did you see anyone else?” He asked. “A ship in the Void? Any survivors? Papyrus? Well, my Papyrus anyway. He’s the Captain of the Royal Guard. And there were a lot of people on the ship before it fell into the Void. Please, if you’ve seen anything...” He trailed off hopefully. Ink’s eyes had suddenly become two ecphonemes (!). “Wait, there are more than just you two?” asked the Guardian excitedly. “It’s pretty rare we get more than a Sans or a Gaster. For some reason the Sanses seem to be inclined to go traveling more than others, though we do get Papyruses and Gasters here and there. But I don’t recall seeing a ship...hmmm.” Then Ink reached back and pulled on his scarf. Upon closer inspection, Sans could see all kinds of writing on it, scribbles and notes. Ink was using the thing as a planner. For a moment Ink squinted down at the scarf, searching through all the notes. They could see his mouth moving as he silently muttered some of the reminders he was reading. At last he looked up. “Nope, sorry. I haven’t seen any ship. But I’ll make a note to keep an eye out for one. I definitely don’t want to miss seeing that. Oh, but I did write down something else. I found this where your universe used to be.” And digging into his pocket, Ink produced something that was difficult to see. It was like a point, but without any width, depth, surface, or length. It flickered strangely and Sans heard Gaster’s intake of breath behind him. “There it is!” said the Scientist as he stepped forward, reaching for the thing. “The last fragment. The final percentage. What bit of me are you hiding in such a small form?” His hand closed around it and he closed his eyes, looking triumphant and relieved. Just as quickly he snapped them back open again in alarm. “Sans!” “What?” “I had three assistants, Sans. Three! Not four! I don’t know who Goner actually is!” * * * The Tem had managed to push the wreckage away from itself, freeing its trapped hind leg. Nobody else was in this part of the Ship, mostly being occupied in repair work or attempts to plan and reorganize. He’d volunteered to come out here and replace the spark plugs in this area because it would make it easier to get away from people for a while. A low creak, like metal under strain, made him turn. It was similar to the sound he’d heard earlier before the ceiling fell. This ship had taken a lot of damage in the crash, it was no wonder it was all falling apart at the seams. There was no one there. Yeah, probably just more infrastructure damage from the crash that needed to be repaired. Turning back brought him face to face with the grey torso of Goner, who was looming over him with his pale whitish-grey eyes. “Your name is Bob, right?” Said Goner in an expressionless tone. It wasn’t really a question exactly. More like a statement with a question tacked onto the end like an afterthought. Suddenly Goner’s expression seemed almost sly, sinister. Perhaps it was just the lighting, but the Tem shrank from the Monster as he leaned forward. “My name is Goner, I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ink!Sans belongs to @comyet Special Thanks to @msaoa12345 for their continued reblogging, praise, and excitable and positive commentary. Without their support, this story wouldn’t be anywhere near finished.

#gaster #w d gaster #wingings #wing ding gaster #sans undertale #sans the skeleton #the river person #goner kid #bob the tem #ink sans #ink!sans #aeontale #undertale au #undertale fanfiction #undertale multiverse #the void undertale #unicode symbols #temmies #epilogue

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assortedmutts · 3 years

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🦋 , 🩰, ⚽️ all for merc <3

Send headcanons!

[ 🦋 ] does your muse have any unconventional interests? what are they?

IDK that I’d call these unconventional, because, unconventional by what standards? But, with that said, I think I can safely say that most people wouldn’t ever dream of Merc’s love for either makeup or birds and that, depending on the manner of someone’s relationship with him (i.e., if they know him on a strictly professional level), his ‘civilian’ sense of fashion might come as something of a surprise for them, as well.

I’ll touch on the latter in the next meme’s answer but, with regards to makeup, Merc is quite skilled. He’s no professional artist, but he can do a very compelling natural look and is otherwise partial to glam eyes or a bold lip. He has very strong opinions on what good makeup skills consist of (i.e. his dislike of contouring) and enjoys testing products. He is also big on skincare. Though he’ll repress this specific set of skills when he’s on the job, as he suppresses most interests/hobbies/aspects of his personality, on a civilian level, he has no issue wearing makeup in public and, in fact, enjoys the attention it draws on some level - mostly as it often presents him with opportunities to beat homophobes to a pulp. Regardless, though - really, it just makes him feel pretty.

He is, in essence, a changed man around his homing pigeons. The care he shows them (be it in education on their biology, personality or care, or the way with which he regards them) and the level of emotional attachment and empathy he has for them are uncanny. The only thing he loves as passionately as his birds are his guns. They are the only living creatures he needn’t keep any pretenses around, the only living creatures he feels truly safe with, and his loyalty for them is as such. They are, quite possibly, one of the very few things actually keeping him alive. Though he’ll tell you he has no favorites and that he loves all two dozen of his pigeons (all named Pigeon) equally, there is one fat, spotty white-and-caramel hen whom he obviously favors over the rest of the flock. You can often find her haughtily perched at the top of Merc’s head.

Lastly, while I don’t think either his knife or smoke tricks are particularly surprising (albeit impressive?), his more generic sideshow tricks might be? IDK, they read to me as seemingly too playful and uncharacteristic for a seemingly humorless thug like him. He can juggle, spin pois and do some mildly impressive card tricks.

[ 🩰 ] is there a type of fashion your muse prefers, or do they not pay attention to their appearance at all?

When on the job, Merc likes to keep things simple/functional. Mute colors, tactical gear, sweats; essentially, things that are comfortable, don’t limit movement, don’t attract attention and cover up his ink. Lots of combat boots, cargo pants and Henley shirts.

He does have a very particular style when it comes to civilian life/off time, though I’m not sure I can describe it as any one, common style. He still keeps elements of his years growing up as a street punk in his wardrobe and tends to favor leather jackets, lots of distressed items, band tees and the occasional choker. There are other light goth or, as I like to put it, ‘flirting with darkness’ (LMAO) elements to his wardrobe such as lots of black-on-black looks, the occasional mesh shirt and/or harness and, naturally, the makeup that often accommodates them. He likes tight-fitting outfits that show off his figure/muscle while still covering up most of his ink and scars and high-waisted pants to compliment those endless legs. Still favors combat boots for the most part, though he might wear something nicer on the very rare occasion that he’s going on a date. Very much into either turtlenecks, fluffy sweaters or graphic tees, depending on his mood. Not comfortable showing a lot of skin, if any (arms are really the only thing he’s comfortable baring; you won’t ever catch him in shorts, crop tops or sandals). Tends to favor simple items with fine/small details which make them a bit unique (like the black jean jacket with the white stitching found in one of the links above). Essentially, his two basic modes are DON’T LOOK AT ME and thot, but like, edgy, and his fashion choices often reflect them.

I kinda feel like his civilian outfits reflect the fact that like... he doesn’t think he’s handsome or pretty and feels very unattractive for the most part and that, by proxy, the only instances that he does feel attractive are ones in which he’s objectified, or feels like he’s being objectified, if that makes sense. He’s only as attractive or pretty as he is fuc.kable, and he’s only as fuc.kable as he is Built™ and Tall™.

[ ⚽️ ] is your muse athletic? are there any sports they like playing?

Not sure that ‘athletic’ is the right word, exactly, considering the fact Merc is fucking swollen and a fair share of his workout routine/muscle is sheer vanity - but he is also in extraordinary shape, especially for a man with his injuries/medical history and habits (smoking/drinking/pill popping & other forms of self harm). When not on the job, he certainly has the workout routine as well as appetite (and occasionally diet, if he’s not being lazy) of an athlete.

Other than his usual workout routine, Merc also regularly drills himself, similar to operational drills he might’ve partaken in during his military service - or as close to them as he can get, solo. When it comes to specific sports, he’s a huge fan of martial arts (Krav Maga in particular) and is also big on swimming and bareknuckle boxing. He is both extensively trained and highly skilled in Operational Krav Maga and dabbles in other forms of martial arts as a hobby. Similarly to his love of firearms, he adores their simplicity and grace.

What with his body image issues as well as paranoia (not wanting any of his various identifying marks to be seen), swimming is a bit of an issue and something that only really takes place either during drilling or when he’s on holiday, alone on some remote beach - but he tries to partake as often as possible under these circumstances, as it’s excellent relief for his chronic back and knee pain. Bareknuckle boxing isn’t something he’s dabbled in since his late teens and early adulthood (as in, before he finished growing into his current size), mostly because no one will take him on - but he has fond memories of it.

#( answered )#kryetar #( answered: kryetar )#( about: the mercenary )#excellent questions bud!#thanks for these (':

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likeadevils · 3 years

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hey! for your post about sun moon and rising but with taylor albums, can you list out the characteristics of each album? i'm having a hard time associating them and it'd make it a lot easier, if you could do that :)

oh totally! Its really all about your personal association, so i’ll give vibes for the era and the album. a good rule of thumb is to read the prologue if you want the tone for the era quickly. honestly, there’s no set system, go wild

taylor swift (2006) “debut”

era: blue and teal and brown. cowboy boots and sundresses, wild curly hair, trucks and mud and wildflowers. very 2006, very high school, very country

album: swings between pining from a distance and wanting to destroy a boys whole ass life and feeling like you have no friends and no one understands you in the whole world. like I said, very high school, but also full of whole ass bangers

fearless (2008)

era: yellow and white. 24/7 prom. she’s got the fairy tale aesthetics set in high school, she’s got calling your ex boyfriend out on national television, she's got so many headbands. god to be 8 years old when the joe jonas/taylor swift drama was going down

album: again, fairy tale set in high school. lots of crushes, lots of realizing men aren’t shit. it’s about the pull between childhood ideals and real life tearing them down, and deciding how much you should cling to your dreams and how much you have to let them go. it’s also a pull between knowing that these little moments are kinda ridiculous but also taking everything so goddamn seriously

speak now (2010)

era: purple purple purple. she’s starting to grow up! her look has evolved out of sundresses and prom dresses and into a more preppy style. she’s moved out of fantasy and into this like. circus aesthetic? 30s movie type thing? watch the mean music video, idk how to explain it. her hair is still curly and but under control, and she’s solidly Famous at this point. the idea that she can’t sing is Big, and the man-eater stereotype is starting to get popular

album: she’s starting to grow out of country. she’s experimenting with rock, but her pop sound is starting to take off. it’s all about Dramatics: she’s experienced her first heartbreak, broke someone else’s heart, and was in an emotionally abusive relationship all within two years. she’s moved out of her parents house and is both infantilized and forced to grow up to fast by the media.

red (2012)

era: its 2012 hipster style. her hair is Straight and she’s wearing vintage dresses everywhere, and she’s posting sketches of red lips and quotes from fitzgerald about heartbreak and finding yourself on instagram. she is dating and breaking up with harry styles Very Publically, and its the last major relationship she’ll have for two more years. the idea that she dates to much is everywhere, and she’s being slut shamed to an insane degree, while also being dismissed as a goody-two-shoes

album: it’s designed so each song has the opposite emotions of the song before it. it’s dramatic and it’s heart wrenching and it portrays these relationships that were toxic and messy and captivating. has the last vestiges of country, some more rock, and the first pure Pop songs, all nestled against each other to give you the epic highs and lows of being 22

1989 (2014)

era: its the height of her stardom, and she’s more beloved then she’s ever been and (probably) will ever be again. she’s cut her hair and moved to New York, she’s wearing high waisted stuff and taking polaroids, and she’s been single for two years and it’s has given her the freedom to find a “tight” group of friends and herself. shes talking about third wave feminism all the time, she’s papped every day, and she started dating c*lvin h*rris; they date for a year, he was the first boyfriend to be posted on social media, and the one she was with the longest (until her current bf). publically, she’s the happiest and most successful she’s ever been. personally, it’s more complicated, especially by the last few months. “she lost him, but she found herself and somehow that was everything” and “from the girl who said she would never cut her hair or move to new york or find happiness in a world where she wasn't in love”

album: single handedly brings 80s pop into the mainstream. (like seriously, her only contemporary influence is lana del rey, and even that is only on a few tracks. listening to this when it came out was a religious experience). it sounds basic now but only because she influenced all of the pop music that came after her. its also her first sonically cohesive album since fearless. subject matter wise, its very 80s movie. it’s the first album without a break up song that ruins a man's whole career— no cold as you, dear john, or all too well type. the relationship is on and off again, but more muted and mature then the tumultuous ones portrayed on red. its very star crossed; two people who just can’t find the right time. she’s also writing about how fame has affected her— blank space, shake it off, and i know places all directly reference it, but the idea that the whole world is watching is woven all throughout the album

bleachella (2016)

this isn't an album but its definitely an era

taylor has become so oversaturated that people are starting to turn on her, and her mental health is suffering. her relationship with c*lvin h*rris is falling apart, she's changing her hair every couple of moths (most notably she bleaches it, and goes to coachella. so like bleachella), and then all of a sudden The Phone Call happens. kim and kanye release edited footage of a phone call that makes it seem like taylor swift is a liar who intentionally plays the victim to stay in the public’s good graces, and the world pounces on it. between that and the idea that her friend group is super cliche-y and exclusionary, her reputation is ruined and she goes in hiding for months. before going into hiding though, she breaks it off with c*lvin (he throws a FIT on twitter) and starts a whirlwind romance with tom hiddleston that includes them flying all over the world on vacations and meeting each others parents super quickly. this all happens in one summer.

reputation (2017)

era: black and white and gold. very edgy, very rich, lots of snakes and casual wealth. there’s the aesthetic of her being very hurt and defensive and lashing out, but the reality of her being the happiest she’s ever been. she’s still famous, but she’s learned how to have a private life and healthy relationships. the tough times have shown her who and what’s important to her

album: pretty much that. the first half is brash and bombastic and playing off what people expect her to be like, how they expect her to fall in and out of love quickly and manipulate those around her to see her as a good person (while exploring sounds that no one expected her to explore) and the second half slows it down and shows her falling in love more explicitly and sweetly and under cover. “in the death of her reputation she felt truly alive” and “finding love through all the noise”

lover (2019)

era: bright pink and pastels and bright colors and happiness and butterflies!! she’s in love and beloved by the general public again, but all of her past albums have been stolen from her by a man she thought she could trust. sadly cut off short by covid. “step into the daylight and let it go”

album: her messiest album (sonically) since red. a popular saying when it first came out was that it had the writing of speak now but the sound of 1989, which is... understandable? its the kind of thing you have to form your own opinion on. it’s on the surface all bubblegum pop and being in love, but it has some of the absolute saddest songs of her entire discography. a 18 song long rollercoaster

folklore and evermore

preface: these are definitely two separate albums and there’s a definitely a difference but this girl has so many albums and it’s taken me an hour to answer this ask and it’s 1am right now so i’m gonna smush them together. go listen to them, and we’re in the era right now

eras: it been covid so all we’ve got are a couple performances and the album visuals. cottagecore, a return to the small town setting of her first two albums, very understated and timeless. one noteworthy element is that both albums were surprise releases (especially after lover had almost a year of build up that kinda worked against it). she’s reached a level of artistic respect that she’s never had

albums: folklore is a level of sonic and thematic cohesion comparable to 1989, as well as having a similar feeling of like. oh god we’ve been waiting for you to make an album like this for years and you’ve still exceeded every exception and made it surprising. evermore is mostly a continuation of its sound, though it’s a bit more experimental. both albums are incredibly mature, and move into non-autobiographical storytelling for most of the songs. it’s easy to build your own world based on one or both of the albums. their main themes are also mostly divorced from relationships, and more tied to personal identity and mental state (though there is quite a bit about divorce and heartbreak in both)

#sorry this took so long but damn that’s a big ask for someone who never shuts up #and by someone I mean me but also taylor #anonymous #asks*

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smutty-ki113r · 3 years

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Hiya! I saw your blog and was interested in asking for a romantic matchup! You can involve nsfw if you would like.

My name is Ronan, my nickname is Ro, my most used pronouns are she/her/he/him. My sexuality is demi-sexual meaning I don’t get sexual attractions to people unless I have formed a strong emotional connection with said person. My zodiac is Scorpio (that’s pretty much all I know about that lmao) also my personality is ISTP-T

Starting with my mental trash I have a VERY low self esteem. I never liked the way I look and probably never will. I suffer from chronic depression that’s pretty much taken over my life. I have a very hard time with social cues and can come off as an asshole most of the time and I’m extremely blunt. People tend to think I’m cute since I’m fairly small; I’m a 5’3 Nordic female with thicker thighs. I am absolutely OBSESSED with The Legend of Zelda franchise, it’s been apart of my life for as long as I can remember. I’m pretty musical; I play bass, drums, and sing. I also voice act so that’s really fun. Not gonna lie I say I have a huge ego but really I just hate everyone. Having depression I mostly lock myself in my room and work on my art.

How I look: I have black/brown hair in a boy cut. I have big round hazel eyes, my face is round with slightly chubby cheeks and freckles. I want to get my lip pierced but sadly have not gotten to that yet.. My fashion sense is kinda everywhere but I typically go for the cottage core aesthetic. I love muted nature ish colors, I think they look so pretty. I love to go on long walks and sit alone at my local park. I find being alone outside very calming. When I’m not outside or in my room I’m mostly playing video games with my friends and kicking their ass. Believe it or not I used to do boxing but now I just lift weights and workout some. I have a long history of physical illnesses that really render my body kinda useless so I always try to strengthen myself up however I can. I spent most of my childhood in the hospital due to these illnesses. I have been homeschooled my whole school years but I taught myself German, Japanese, and computer science. I actually have a job around it. I’m terrible at explaining my feelings and asking for help so telling people I love them is a huge chore for me. A lot of the time you can find me alone singing to myself with my eyes closed daydreaming.

I love to read. My friends say I’m really boring but whatever. OH I’ve always wanted to be a DJ. I know its a really weird dream but it just looks so cool. Nobody ever expects the sick quiet girl to want to be a DJ. Speaking of shy I’m a huge introvert if you couldn’t figure that out already. I’m extremely shy, don’t talk to me I’ll run away or you’ll be enveloped in my Zelda talk. I have amazingly crazy music taste (according to my mom) I listen to mostly heavy metal and Corpse Husband.

NSFW: Huge HUGE brat. You want me to do something? Yeah fuck you. I’m a huge sub you can pretty much do anything to me. I have a big daddy kink like please let me call you daddy UGH. Also praise but degrade me at the same time? Please thanks. I’m also a pillow princess. Um um ddlg yes thanks.

I match you with…..💖BEN_DROWNED💖

NSFW bellow~

OK OK I KNOW I KNOW, DON’T @ me for picking Benny boy for you Ro. I just think it’s the right fit. Let me start off with the whole depression thing, BEN relates to locking himself in his room and hyperfixating on something. At least you’ll have a gaming buddy to get you through it. Plus, he’s a very competitive guy. Get him to not cheat and you will have fun for hours. Not to mention you sound a bit like Jeff in the way that you can come off as rude. BEN and Jeff are pretty good friends, so you’ll make a wonderful partner for BEN.

Voice acting? BEN will love that, he’ll try to get you to do different characters from his video games or even anime characters. He loves your chubby cheeks, likes to squish them and make them puckered and then give you kisses. It’s quite adorable. Zelda talk? Yeah you don’t need to worry about him running off about that.

BEN will be obsessed with the cottage core, probably likes those little white flowy dresses. Maybe one day wear those elf ears and surprise him, I think he’d think it’s cute. You should definetly do his makeup, put that holographic glitter on his cheeks and some hair clips in his hair- maybe a skirt if he feels up to it.

BEN is very understanding about your illnesses, in fact he would be super impressed that you even lift weights. And is so so supportive about you wanting to be a DJ. He gets excited and calls over Jeff to show him. He’s not very shy about saying I love you, maybe the first time but after it’s constant affection.

For the smut! He can get rough sometimes, loves the daddy kink. He’s the type to soak all that up like a sponge. Praises you for taking his cock so well but will call you pathetic for making those noises. Probably wants you to wrap your thighs around his head and suck your clit for hours, he likes to feel you cum.

Ok Ok I hope you enjoyed that! I love how you have a big ego and then- low self esteem, sounds like me. I literally hate myself so much and then… holy shit I’m the hottest person alive. I know what depression is like, those thoughts just wrap around your throat and choke the life out of you, and it’s not even fast. It’s every day just heavier and heavier, dragging you down and making you feel horrible. I mostly lock myself in my room too, but writing helps me through it. I love love love your hair, boy cuts are so cool. And get that lip piercing! IT WOULD LOOK AWESOME. I love that you’re talented in music, I wish I was musically inclined. Scorpios are so cool, like I said, my best friend is one and so I LOVE YOU GUYS.

I am so incredibly proud of you, homeschool and then the illness stuff must be so hard but you are so strong for going through it. You don’t deserve it but sometimes life works that way. It’s ok to be shy and introverted. For the record, I think you would make an awesome DJ. DO it, I believe in you, so should you. I mean we all have our passions, work hard enough and I promise you’ll get there. I used to write a lot about my feelings and nobody ever read it, but I continued and look where I am now! Im so proud of myself for having this account, and you for being ALIVE. Thats all you need to do, you don’t need to be cool, or popular or skinny to be an amazing person.

Ro, I swear you are an awesome person. I can clearly see it, and I promise one day you’ll look in the mirror and think the same. If your friends say you’re boring they aren’t your friends. They sort of suck because reading is so cool. Without readers I couldn’t be a writer now could I? I believe in you. I know you can do it. Lifting weights is so badass I couldn’t even- I can barely do 5 pound weights man. Ya know I believe that the people who go through the most pain and sadness are the ones who will be the happiest in the end. The universe has to give us back what we lost, there is balance in everything and pain is only temporary. Everything is temporary. So I promise it’ll be ok man, and hey, you’re valid. I see you ro, and I know that you’ll make great places someday.

#ben drowned #creepypasta #ben drowned x y/n #ben drowned creepypasta #Ben drowned x you #📯#♠️

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tackyink · 4 years

Text

Why do I do this to myself, I ask, as I post the next chapter two weeks after the first one, which took four years, thus defeating the entire point of extensive editing and risking a huge tone shift. Then again, I’ve been whining about it so much that it would be odd not to share.

Chapter 1

— — — — — — — —

Chapter 2

The sun pounds down with criminal intent as Alex and her friend run across the terrace of Mrs. Isabel’s monumental house. They are adventurers this time, or maybe pirates. It doesn’t matter. The reflection of the light on the colorful tiles and whitewashed buildings is blinding, and her friend’s blonde hair makes her glow like she’s wearing a crown woven with sunlight. They are wearing matching pendants of stone that she picked for them while she was on a trip.

Laughing, her friend turns to Alex with a toy chest between her hands, but Alex can’t hear the sounds coming from her mouth and her face is a featureless blur that she can’t make sense of. Who’s this person? The stress of not being able to focus on her face makes the image vanish into white, then black, then...

When Alex woke up, she vaguely remembered dreaming about home, so she didn’t give it much thought. She very rarely remembered dreams, and dreams related to the past were the worst because they were filled with people she hadn’t seen in years, so she wasn’t going to make an effort to recall only to feel bad.

Getting up with a lot effort, she remembered she had gone straight to bed as soon as she got home the day before and she needed a shower. She groaned as she undressed and dropped on the nightstand the seastone pendant she usually wore under her clothes. It was a small, useless thing that may have at some point been used as a bullet and repurposed, but it was a gift from a family friend, and she liked how it looked. A good luck charm of sorts that clearly wasn’t doing its job.

The shower seemed to stretch to infinity as she reviewed the events of the previous day and what she needed to do from then on. She wished that had been a dream. If only things were always that easy.

True to word, the pirates had left with the rising sun. Alex didn’t get to see their ship, even though the first thing she did that morning was go to the port to sneak a glance and contemplate the fish-shaped submarine in its entire tacky splendor. She’d always liked watching ships, ever since she was a kid and sat down at the beach or near the shipyard to see them from up close.

The following weeks were a haze of bureaucracy and preparations to leave her post at the library. She booked a ticket for a passenger ship to the city-island of St. Poplar with the intention of catching another ship from there that could sail her to the Sabaody Archipelago. Then she’d need to request permission to cross the Red Line, and once she was there, well, it wasn’t like she was in a big hurry to return home. But if she didn’t enter the New World soon, there was a chance that once the Poneglyph was be discovered and she’d be held up as soon as she set foot on holy land.

Nearly a month and a half had passed by the time she was able to get all her ducks in a row: training her replacement at work, sending letters to friends and family telling them she was moving, as well as shipping a couple of boxes to the Sabaody Archipelago. When that was done, Alex spent the longest three weeks of her life inside that passenger ship, trapped in a vessel wondering where the heck was her life going, but after several stops along the way, in a very early morning, she arrived to Saint Poplar. She had about a month to go until the renovations started and she became officially a fugitive. Probably. The fact that she wouldn’t be able to know if she was overreacting unless shit hit the fan didn’t help her feel secure in any decision she took, but hey, if she was wrong and nothing happened in the end, she could always go back to Duster Town.

The first thing she did upon arrival was consult the ship schedules at the port. Several pages with timetables were tacked to a board with a glass cover. It was better kept than most information boards she had come across, but it was to be expected, since Saint Poplar and the surrounding islands were popular tourist spots.

By the looks of it, she had missed the last direct ship to Marineford by two days, and the next one wasn’t scheduled yet because there was an Aqua Laguna alert. Joy. She had to explain her predicament to a few locals until one of the women working at the port gave her something useful to work with.

“There should still be a liner leaving Water 7 in a few days. They usually wait until the last day so as many people as possible can leave the island before the sea gets too rough.”

Alex took this information as well as one would take a knee to the solar plexus. Another trip meant more money wasted. It was becoming increasingly evident that she’d have to pick up a job somewhere before she was able to cross the Red Line, because safe passage required money. Lots of it. And unless she robbed a bank, she didn’t think she’d be able to get it before the archive renovation started. She had a gun. And she entertained the idea for the entirety of two seconds before coming back to reality.

“Okay,” she said. If nothing else, she’d be able to sightsee. That was an island she had wanted to visit for a long time. “Do you know where can I take a ship to Water 7?”

“There are no ships to Water 7,” the lady replied, amused. “There’s the Sea Train.”

“Oh! I forgot.” It was very much like her to know the Sea Train was a thing and not remember that it had an actual purpose, besides making a city famous. “Is the station far from here, or…?”

“No, it’s…” She looked below the ship schedules in front of them. There was a faded map of the city behind the glass. She pointed one spot, on the opposite side of the city. It was mostly a straight line from where she was if she followed the main streets. “Here. It’s easy to find.”

She had to resist the temptation to pull out of her backpack a fountain pen and draw the map on the back of her hand, since she didn’t trust her memory all that much, and instead she said, “Thank you very much!”

The woman smiled at her, lifted a crate bigger than Alex without breaking a sweat, and went on her merry way. Meanwhile, she spent the following minutes staring intensely at the map to make completely sure that she wasn’t going to take a wrong turn even though there were absolutely no turns to make. Anxiety was a wonderful condition.

By the time she started moving, she was looking at the next hours in a different light. As inconvenient as this detour was, Alex felt more excited than anything else at the idea of riding a Sea Train and going to the city where it originated. She’d seen the pictures, and it was supposed to be all canals that the locals navigated with little boats instead of wheeled vehicles. May as well enjoy the trip as much as she could, right?

Humming as she went, the trek across the St. Poplar brought her through streets of stone lined with tall buildings, some made of that same stone, but most of them in a more polished classical style. The pediments she saw suggested fifteenth century, so not too old. The less ostentatious houses were brick painted in light tones, with planters hanging from balconies that added little splashes of color to the otherwise muted palette and, in the case of those that were more worn out, provided the exciting possibility of said planters falling on a passerby’s head. Better to stay away from some of those cornices, too.

The atmosphere more than made up for the stoning risk, though. The city was as lively as it could be, and she found herself wishing that she had an excuse to remain in it for a little longer, but it was not to be. Come to think of it, wasn’t there a huge carnival going on in San Faldo around those dates? That explained the people walking around in costumes and elaborate masks. If she ever got to go on vacation again, she was making this area of Paradise her priority.

But if an Aqua Laguna was approaching, she needed to be out of its range as soon as possible, or she risked getting stranded in a place highly frequented by government employees where she could be spotted without backup. Moving swiftly was a priority until she could settle down and lay low to see how the situation unfolded.

She took longer to get to her destination than if she hadn’t kept getting distracted with every little thing that caught her attention, but eventually she was greeted by a platform and a white-gray building with a sign that identified it as Spring Station. She looked out to the sea, unable to see anything at first, until she noticed a shadow beneath the water. Railways swayed back and forth with the waves, a feat of engineering that she wouldn’t have believed had the train not been functional for over ten years. It even connected directly with Enies Lobby, so it had to be reliable. The government wouldn’t be using it to routinely transport their own people otherwise.

She walked into the station and headed straight to the timetable next to the ticket window. There were people sitting inside with bags, and many of them in costume. She wished she could spare the money and the time to join in, or at least run her hands over the velvety fabrics and intricate embroidery. She had done her fair share of sewing and the construction and materials of the costumes were seamstress porn.

The train was scheduled for departure in two hours. Better not to wander too far.

❦

There were many people inside Alex’s car, some dressed in regular clothes, some in costume. She would have liked to sit next to the window, but she was stuck in an aisle seat, and though she wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, she lamented having to spend the trip looking at her feet instead of the sea.

The seats were really nice, though. She wondered how luxurious first class had to be, if her butt was already on velvet and her feet on fluffy carpet. That was where the government agents must go, since when they stopped at Enies Lobby, nobody entered her car or the adjacent ones, judging by the lack of noise.

About an hour passed without incident until she noticed a faint smell, like smoke, and soon after, someone spoke through the PA system.

“Dear passengers, we inform you that the Sea Train is going to make an unscheduled stop at Shift Station for maintenance. The new hour of arrival to Water 7 will be 12 PM. We are sorry for the inconvenience. You may leave your seats until it’s time to resume the voyage.”

Varying degrees of protests filled the car, but Alex couldn’t say she minded. The train was starting to get stuffy with so many people, and she sensed an incoming headache from the nonstop chatter of the group across the aisle.

A scarce minute later, the train reduced its speed until it came to a halt, and immediately after, a stewardess appeared to unlock the doors. Alex decided to get up, find out in what kind of place this Shift Station was, and stretch her legs, because the seat may have been velvet, but the cushion under it was long flattened. First class was hoarding the good ones for sure.

The smell of saltwater hit her in the face with the subtlety of a Buster Call. She was very confused at how much water she was seeing until she realized that the station was little more than a platform on each side of the rails, a lighthouse, and a house in the middle of the ocean.

There wasn’t much to see once the first impression wore off, though she could have easily spent hours just watching the hypnotic swaying of the waves. There had always been something drawing her to it. She thought about how terrifying it had to be getting caught there during a storm, and how solid the little house on the platform must have been to still be standing there for a decade. The station master, if there was one, had to have nerves of steel.

Since she had nothing else to do, she stretched and began to pace around the platform, watching the passengers who had also gotten off the train. Not too many, considering the amount of people that were travelling in it, but she had to admit the platform amidst the waves was not for the faint of heart. She was certainly not going to get close to the edge. She saw mostly the same types of people she had been sitting with, but from the first car appeared a group dressed in expensive clothing and another of men in black suits.

She did a double take when she saw a familiar World Government insignia on the lapels of their jackets. Embroidery work was wasted on those people. They were Cipher Pol agents, and while their presence was more than reasonable, they still put her on edge. Best not to get close. How did one try their hardest to not look guilty without looking even guiltier?

Faced with this unsolvable conundrum, she diverted her gaze to look anywhere but at them, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed one of them look in her direction for a moment before going back to their conversation. Slowly and innocently, if steps could be walked in such a way, she ducked into the building and decided to keep to the shadows until the train was ready to go. Out of sight, out of mind, they said, and in case she actually became a fugitive, she didn’t need to be remembered by a member of an intelligence agency.

The fresh air was nice, though. Definitely worth sharing her vital space with government agents for a few minutes.

“Chimney got clogged again, didn’t it?”

Alex wanted to jump out of her skin when she suddenly heard a voice behind her, but the upside of being in a constant state of mild anxiety was that she just tensed up very hard when she got spooked. Shoulders squared and butt firmly clenched, she turned around to see an old woman with a grin so wide that it dipped into the uncanny valley. She was stocky, with lime green hair tied in braids, and wore a hat with Water 7’s initials that probably meant she worked there.

This was not how Alex had expected the station master to look, and if she had had it in her to worry about complete strangers, she would have been concerned about the woman’s safety.

A small girl with lips and hair conspicuously similar to the woman’s spoke up from behind her, annoyed. “I didn’t! I’ve been going every day!”

The older woman laughed loudly. “I meant the train, not you!”

The girl huffed and left, but the older woman stayed.

Now that she was facing her, her breath hit Alex, and it reeked of alcohol. Oh dear. She hoped the woman didn’t have a terribly important job there. She didn’t get what was so funny about the exchange, but she didn’t want to ask, either.

“I don’t know,” she replied with hesitation, realizing she had been asked a question. “They just told us we were going to stop for a while.”

“It happens sometimes.” She said. The grin was perpetually etched in her face. “They made the chimney too long, but Tom always said it looked nicer that way. You’d think Iceburg would have more sense once he took over, but he says he doesn’t want to change it.”

As soon as those names were dropped, Alex’s brain began to try and make connections like a madman with a wall covered in papers trying to make sense of a conspiracy theory. She didn’t know if the woman was assuming she knew who those people were or she was so drunk that she didn’t care.

Fortunately for Alex, she did know, marginally, who she was referring to – Iceburg, Water 7’s current mayor, was famous worldwide thanks to the Galley-La Company, and by Tom she assumed she meant the man who designed the original sea train. That name would have escaped her, had not a number of coincidences engraved it in her mind.

She couldn’t say if Tom had been forgotten as a relic of a past era or forcibly ejected from public memory as a result of being connected to Gold Roger and ever-present racism. He was a genius inventor, the one who put Water 7 on the world map by building the Sea Train, and the world returned the favor by executing him.

Most executions relating to the Pirate King had happened when Alex was still very young and didn’t pay much attention to anything that went on outside of her immediate vicinity, but Tom’s happened much later, when she was twenty and being aware of the world’s geopolitics was an indispensable part of her studies. They granted him a few more years to finish the Sea Train, and everybody back then had been convinced that his service would be repaid with a pardon, but that wasn’t how the World Government worked.

Unstoppable in their mission to purge every little thing that remained of Roger, they eliminated the man who built the Oro Jackson. Alex’s friend opened a bottle of his wife’s good whiskey, and then another, and suddenly it was four in the morning with him slurring and sobbing on the table, and his wife was halfway through the second pack of cigarettes of the night and Alex was so drunk in solidarity too that it was a good thing that her chair had a sturdy back and armrests, because otherwise she was pretty sure she’d have slid to the sticky floor and stayed there listening to old stories. He had a killer hangover the next day and Alex was just sleepy because young bodies were capable of amazing things, and then everything seemed to return to normal.

That had been a bad year, and a combination of everything happening at once and managing to torpedo her own academic career meant that putting it behind wasn’t an easy thing to do. Aside from Tom’s execution bringing down the mood considerably and her own personal problems, passage through the Red Line was also shut for months after queen Otohime’s assassination, meaning that Alex couldn’t return home at the time the country was going through the worst political unrest in centuries, and even if she had been free to go, the long absence would have made her flunk the year and lose her scholarship. Alex remembered that year like one remembered a fever nightmare: fuzzy, never ending, with huge gaps in the middle, yet sinking its claws so deep within that it was just a mention or reminder away from resurfacing. Sabaody got worse around that time, too, due to Doflamingo’s rise to Shichibukai and king status. His auction house started operating in the archipelago while Marines looked the other way, and kidnapping crews grew in number and activity.

All in all, not the best time of her life. In fact, current technically-not-on-the-run Alex was still faring so much better than past Alex that the thought wrapped around from depressing to funny.

She looked at the Sea Train, trying to imagine it with a shorter chimney. Two men were at the top of the smokebox with big brushes. “I can see their point. The proportions would be off.”

The woman must have been in a very good mood, because she chuckled. “I’m not an engineer or an artist, so I can’t say. Why are you here, anyway? Do you need anything?”

“Oh, no, sorry, it’s just—” She thought about the Cipher Pol agents out there. “There’s a lot of people on the platform.”

“And it’s windy, too,” she said, looking at the sky. “People have gotten blown away before, you know.”

“…Oh. That’s good to know, thanks,” she said, timidly taking a step back into the house so she wasn’t being hit by the wind anymore. Alex still had some time to kill and was curious about the woman, and talkative as she was, she assumed she wouldn’t mind a bit of prodding. “You mentioned Iceburg and Tom. Do you know them?”

The laugh that came next didn’t sound as happy as the other ones, somehow. “Know them? I’ve known Iceburg since he was a little brat. Tom was a good friend. Did you know that Iceburg was his apprentice? Not that these people care,” she nudged her head towards the Cipher Pol agents and Alex sank even deeper into the little house. “Tom died so they could save face, but they won’t touch Iceburg because he’s useful. That’s all they mean to them.”

Alex didn’t know very well how to respond, but she felt the need to say something. “I have a friend who said the same. He sailed on one of Tom’s ships years ago.”

The woman looked at Alex, and beyond the drunken stupor, some clarity shined behind her eyes. “Oh? And what did he think about it? Was it smooth sailing?”

Alex smiled just a little bit. “Not really, but he says it was the best ship in the world.”

The woman cackled, happily this time. “Of course it was! He made the best ships! Not even Iceburg or…” She trailed off, and Alex couldn’t tell if she had forgotten where she was going or she had done it on purpose. “Say, are you headed to Water 7?”

“Yes, why?”

“I need you to do me a favor. All this talk’s gotten me nostalgic and the Aqua Laguna will be here any day, so…” The woman walked to a counter, pulled out a notebook, wrote something, tore out the page and kissed it before folding it twice. She waddled back to Alex and gave her the paper. “Give this to Iceburg.”

Alex’s hand froze with the paper already in it. “I… don’t think I can do that. Isn’t he famous? How am I supposed to meet him?”

The woman brushed her concerns off like nothing, and Alex’s nerves didn’t appreciate that. “Nah, it’s not a problem. Go to Dock 1 in the afternoon, he’s usually there avoiding official duty. Tell them Kokoro sent you. That should be enough.”

“Okay…?” She said, still unsure. “I won’t promise anything, though.”

“No need for promises, just deliver it. I need a drinking buddy.” And she added, “You should go to Blueno’s bar while you’re there. The booze is cheap and the food is good, and that isn’t something you can’t say about many places in the city.”

“Oh?” This new topic was interesting. “Is it very expensive?”

Kokoro laughed. “You’ll see when you get there.”

That sounded ominous for her budget, and Alex didn’t feel too good about this ordeal she had been roped into because the last thing she wanted to do was enable an alcoholic lady. But maybe Iceburg would look after her…? They were longtime friends, according to her.

At any rate, there wasn’t much point in refusing the errand. If delivering the note happened to be too complicated, she could pass and no one would be none the wiser. Her priority was to find a ship and get to Sabaody the sooner, the better.

And when she was there, maybe tell her friends that she had met a friend of a friend.

❦

When Alex arrived to Blue station, she had to remind herself that she had several objectives in mind and sightseeing came second. She put on her sunglasses to block out the glare of the sun and its reflection on the water, and looked up.

In front of her stood a colossal city built upwards and turned fountain, with five different levels of construction that culminated in an upwards surge of water. It was collected by a series of canalizations that crossed the city from the top to sea level and divided the second tier in smaller areas.

Water 7 was one of the many independent state-islands in the area, and though not affiliated with the World Government – it hadn’t been a notable location at all, before the Sea Train that ironically connected it to Enies Lobby was put in motion – its globally renowned shipyards often worked on Marine ships and other vessels for people with important positions in the government. It was said that nowhere else in the world could you find better shipwrights than in Water 7, and the man famously acclaimed for it was Iceburg, current mayor and owner of the aforementioned shipyards. He had founded the Galley-La company a few years ago, recruiting the best shipwrights he could find for his behemoth of an enterprise, and it worked. Alex was actually excited to see firsthand what all the fuss was about.

But first things first, and before taking the mysterious note to the mayor, she needed to find the ship that would take her to the Sabaody Archipelago.

She got unnecessarily lost several times inside the labyrinth of canals and side streets because she refused to walk up to people and ask, but eventually, she found the Grand Canal of the island and the harbor where most ships docked.

It didn’t take her long to mind a means of transport, thankfully. The passenger ship departed the next day in the morning, and with a lot of pain, Alex had to fork over a good chunk of her remaining savings to secure a ticket on such short notice. It wasn’t the end of the world, since, she already counted on having to stay in Sabaody for a while to rebuild her budget, but it stung.

After the more pressing issue was dealt with, she took a walk around the area to find somewhere to eat, maybe try some local specialty, but she felt her hunger vanish when she looked at the prices of the menus outside. Kokoro had been right. What was the place she had mentioned… Bruno’s? Blueno’s? Yeah, that sounded familiar.

Unfortunately, a cursory glance didn’t reveal its location. If it was cheaper, it was probably somewhere less central, and if that was the case, she’d have more luck crossing the bridge to Green Bit unscathed than finding it without assistance.

Face with the unavoidable fact that she had to ask someone if she had any hopes of finding the place, she took a look around and decided she might as well procrastinate on it for as long as she could. She started to walk towards the upper part of the city, the Shipbuilding Island, where the docks were located, or so multiple signposts said. It really drove home that they were the main attraction of the city, more than the canals of the amazing architecture.

Getting there was going to take a while. She could have rented one of those cute Yagara boats, but she was cheap as hell, and, not less importantly, the critters seemed a little overenthusiastic. After the trip, all the walking she had done and the lack of food, she wasn’t in the mood to be social with anybody, human or not.

Maybe she would be lucky and come across Blueno’s place as she went to the shipyards. Yeah. That was a hopeful lie she could hang onto while she forced her body to walk way more than it was used to.

She hummed on her way up, singing to herself when she went through empty streets. As it turned out, the difficulty of reaching the shipyards by foot wasn’t finding the way up, but rather being in the proper sidewalk when she happened upon the next bridge or set of stairs, and after an hour she had lost count of the amount of times she had reached a dead end and had to turn back to the nearest bridge to cross the street and ascend, from the third instance onwards accompanied by a cranky ‘GAAAAH’ as she ran in the right direction. One would have thought this wouldn’t have won her any points with the locals, but she heard a few snickering at her and saying something in a language she didn’t speak but universally translated as ‘hahaha, tourists.’

She’d be the first to admit that going up that monumental city while carrying a backpack wasn’t her brightest idea, but she was damned if she was going to cave in at that point and rent the Yagara. She’d wash downstream on the way back if it came to that, but she had to get to the top now by her own means.

The moment she set foot on Shipbuilding island, she walked a few steps away from the staircase to not block it, dropped her backpack, and then her ass next to it to catch her breath.

When she recovered enough to raise her head instead of thinking how miserably sore she was going to be in the morning, she was greeted by an even better view than when she arrived to the Blue Station, and she pushed her glasses up for a moment to better see the colors of the city.

The lowest level of Water 7 extended below her, clusters of white houses and orange roofs covering the entire expanse of the island that wasn’t occupied by the canals. The wind blew harder at that level, too, with less obstacles in its path, since that part of the city was built on a steep incline, and it carried with it the spray of the central fountain, painting a timid rainbow across the sky. She imagined the view at night being just as stunning.

She chose to view this as the reward for her efforts, and then snorted at her the consolation prize of her own making.

As nice as it was to stare at the city and the sky and sea beyond, she was there with a double mission of getting the note to Iceburg and being a little nosy, so she looked at the monumental stone door she had just crossed with the number three painted on it. She was willing to go out on a limb and assume that that wasn’t Dock 1, so she began to circle around the area to find the next one, and once again she had to go the way she had come when she saw the next door had a four. Alex would be the first to agree that the most powerful force in the universe was cosmic irony, but after the sidewalk business while she made her way up there, this seemed a little excessive.

At least the circular shape of the area and the conveniently located bridges allowed her to cross over the canals with ease, saving her from getting lost again, and in a matter of minutes door number one, wide open, came into view.

At first she didn’t know where to go, since each dock could have easily been a town on their own. She began to walk upwards, wondering how was she supposed to find Iceburg and with little intent to go out of her way to find him if she didn’t have luck. A couple of minutes later, she noticed a group of townspeople standing in a half circle and staring at something. Alex decided to approach them and see what was going on. There was a good chance that the mayor himself was attracting the crowd, if he really was as popular as the rumors said.

Standing at a safe distance from the group, she realized that it was composed mostly by women, and she looked at whatever had them so interested. A man with his torso covered in tattoos was carrying a couple of long planks over his shoulder with surprising ease, and another one, farther away, was sawing a tree trunk so big that it couldn’t be for anything but a mast. He caught Alex’s attention because for some reason he was wearing a top hat that clashed horribly with the rest of his outfit and there was a pigeon sitting on a nearby pile of crates and watching him work with surprising focus. None of them, obviously, looked like mayor material.

Alex wasn’t sure what the crowd was doing there until she heard a hushed comment about the shipwright’s arms and being able to break concrete with those. Oh, God, they were there to ogle at the shipwrights? Alex wasn’t nearly straight enough for this. How was that even allowed? She took a step away from them, but by then a cheerful man wearing a tracksuit of questionable taste had noticed the group and acknowledged them with a wave and a smile. One of the girls swooned, and Alex died a little inside, then died some more because she had worked hard on leaving behind her ‘not like the other girls phase’ but the circumstances weren’t helping matters.

The other workers were busy, but the new face seemed to be free at the moment, he looked friendly, and she had come to the conclusion that she’d have to communicate with strangers if Kokoro’s note was to be delivered. She waved back at the man with the paper in her hand and something that resembled urgency on her face. She wasn’t hopeful, but to her surprise, he started to walk towards her. At the same time, the man with the top hat finished the cut he was making and the white pigeon stood up, cooed at tracksuit guy, and flew to rest on the shoulder of his coworker.

“Hattori is so cute,” one of the women said.

Alex didn’t know anymore who of the three was Hattori. She was even more confused when top hat guy passed near his colleague and the pigeon said, “I’ll take care of it.”

“Lucci’s coming our way!” One of the younger girls said, excited.

“Do you think he’ll pick another fight with Paulie today?”

“I hope so! Did you see what his fingers did to the—”

Alright, time to unplug from the conversation. She could guess that Lucci was the name of the man, because she didn’t think a pigeon, no matter how articulate, could inspire so much passion.

The name gave her pause.

Where had she heard it before? It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Maybe she had heard someone talk about him at some point. He had to be a renowned shipwright if he was working in Dock 1 of Water 7, of all places.

Lucci was tall, but she didn’t realize just how much until he was right in front of her, staring her down in a way that, in any other context, she’d have assumed meant that he was about to snap her neck. Was he taller than Trafalgar Law, or did the top hat made him look like he was? She only knew that if she ever had the back luck of bumping into the guy, she would likely split her forehead against his pectoral muscles. The man was built like a classical marble statue with facial hair, tattoos, and a serious case of resting bitchface. She could empathize with him on the latter.

“Can I help you?”

Alex didn’t know whether to look at the pigeon or the man, and in a panic, she settled on the man because it felt wiser to not lose sight of him than a bird.

And what a bird. That pigeon was easily the size of her head.

“I met a woman named Kokoro at Shift Station. She asked me to give this note to mayor Iceburg,” she said, showing the folded note to him.

He extended a hand for her to pass the paper, and she wasn’t sure how ethical it was to let another person read a clearly personal note with a kiss stamped on it, but to be quite frank, she didn’t care and he and the close attention his group of fans was making her anxious.

A pair of strangely-shaped eyebrows lifted when he read the message.

“Kokoro?” The bird repeated. There had to be a trick there. That was a pigeon, not a parrot, they weren’t supposed be able to enunciate like humans. It was probably unreasonable of her to revoke her suspension of disbelief due to that when she knew there were so many strange creatures living in the Grand Line, but she had to draw the line somewhere. “Mayor Iceburg is doing his rounds right now. He should be here in a few minutes. You can wait for him over there,” he said, gesturing with a wing at a pile of neatly stacked timber across from where his owner had been working, and Lucci returned the note to her. “Don’t be noisy.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she retorted with a mix of indignation and embarrassment, reflexively taking a step away from him and the group she had just been associated with. The movement telegraphed against her will that she found him intimidating, which only served to embarrass her more. “Thank you.”

There really was no way anybody with functioning eyes could mistake her for one of the group. The ladies looked nice, and Alex looked like… well, she couldn’t tell, but she was glad she didn’t have a mirror on hand, because if she looked as sweaty as she felt, she wasn’t a pretty sight. The boots and big backpack on her back were also clear signs that she wasn’t from around there.

Wordlessly, Lucci returned to his job while Alex was left with the impression that she had just been made fun of, not that anybody could tell by the shipwright’s stony face. She relaxed a little when he left her alone, not in small part due to the attention of the group being lifted from her.

That place was nothing like the shipyards she was used to. Canals ran through it, same as in the city below, and led to other slide-like canalizations that connected to the lower levels. There were a lot of those all around the city, she had noticed, acting as roads for the Yagaras, and, she guessed in the case of the larger ones, to help transport the newly built or repaired ships from the docks to sea level.

Some time had passed when she caught sight of a blue-haired man in a striped suit walking in her general direction, closely followed by a blonde woman with a strict expression, and while he was busy inspecting the work of a shipwright, she noticed Alex was away from the crowd and made a beeline for her.

“Excuse me.” The tone of the pleasantry suggested that it was actually her who was excusing Alex’s presence. “Do you have any business here?”

Alex didn’t enjoy being talked down to, so the reply came out harsher that she meant. “As a matter of fact, I do.” When she realized how snappy she had sounded, she explained quickly, “I was told by Kokoro to deliver a message to mayor Iceburg, and he,” she gestured at Lucci, who was busy with his job and not paying them any mind, with the note, “said I could wait for him here.”

“Did he, now,” she replied, sending a skeptical glance at the man, and she extended her hand towards Alex. Someone must have pissed in her coffee that morning. “Let me see.”

That note was going to places, she thought, but the woman must have found its contents acceptable, because she returned it to Alex and told her, “Wait here.”

Alex was about to start having flashbacks of all the bureaucratic mess involved with her recent move out of Duster Town. The woman went to the man in the suit and directed him towards Alex while she walked over to Lucci to tell him something she wasn’t able to hear because she now had to pay attention to the mayor of the city.

“Hello,” he said, sounding much politer than the woman. “Kalifa tells me you have a message for me.”

It was curious, comparing the old descriptions she had heard of the man with his current appearance. He wouldn’t have been caught dead in a suit twenty years ago, for instance.

“Yes, from Kokoro. Here,” she said, finally giving the note to its intended recipient and feeling like she was set free from a curse.

“Hm?” He opened he note, and after just a split second his face turned into a grimace. “Ugh, gross!”

“Uh, what?” The note had already passed two filters, so she couldn’t imagine what could warrant that reaction.

He showed her the note and Alex read it for the first time. Same place, same time? It said. The lipstick imprint of the kiss was smudged and stained the whole page. Iceburg didn’t waste any time in crumpling the paper and tossing it over his shoulder.

“Thank you for delivering the message.”

“Mr. Iceburg! No littering!” The woman from before warned, but someone else replied to her.

“Don’t speak like that to Mr. Iceburg, you wretched woman! And show some property while you’re in the docks!”

The woman didn’t reply, but she sent a death glare to the man who had spoken up, and Alex could have sworn that she pulled down the zipper of her jacket lower than it already was, drawing an even bigger reaction from him.

“Nmaa, don’t mind them,” Iceburg said, sounding bored. WYou don’t seem from around here. Are you visiting?”

“Just passing by before the Aqua Laguna comes,” she replied. “But I wish I could stay longer.”

He smiled with something akin to pride. “It’s a good city, isn’t it? What have you seen so far?”

“Oh, well, I walked around the Grand Canal and the shopping district earlier, and I saw a bit of the city while I walked up here, but—”

“You walked here?”

Oh, this was so awkward. She should have tossed that note into the sea. “I’m a historian,” she replied, because that was an excuse that always curbed people’s curiosity. “I wanted to take my time exploring.”

“If that’s the case, have you seen the maritime museum yet? It’s near the Grand Canal, and there’s a showcase about the origins of the city right now.”

She wasn’t a big fan of museums, truth be told, but professional habit compelled her to go anyway. The list of places she had to visit didn’t seem to shrink. “No, but I’ll be sure to—Oh, that reminds me!” Might as well ask while she had his attention, she thought. “Kokoro recommended going to Blueno’s bar while I was here. Where can I find it?”

“Ah, good idea!” Iceburg’s face lit up. “Let’s see, what can we do… Since you don’t have a Yagara, let me ask Kalifa if she has a map of—”

“No need, Mr. Iceburg.” Someone else piped up. “It’s time for my break, so I can show her.”

The guy in the tracksuit from before was walking up to them, showing a warm smile.

“That would be perfect,” Iceburg replied, and the said to Alex. “This is one of our foremen, Kaku.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Kaku looked young and sounded old at once. “Likewise,” Alex replied. “I’m Alex.”

“Well then, Alex,” he said in a suspiciously cheerful tone. “I don’t have long, so we’ll have to get there in a jiffy. Are you ready?”

As ready as she was ever going to be until she had a good night’s sleep. “Sure. Whenever you…”

A not so inoffensive grin spread on Kaku’s face and he broke into a sprint in Alex’s direction, so fast that she couldn’t duck from his path before he threw an arm around her, easily lifting her from the floor, extra weight from the backpack and all, and he kept running toward the edge of the level and jumped.

She thought she yelled, but she couldn’t hear her own voice against the roar of the wind in her ears and her blood pressure rising at the absolute certainty that she was going to become a pancake, the only doubt being whether she’d be dry or wet at the bottom of a canal.

On reflex, she grabbed tightly onto the only thing available, which was Kaku’s arm firmly wrapped around her torso, and her grip was met with stone hard muscle. What was up with these shipwrights?

She saw Dock 1 get smaller and smaller at breakneck speed as she fell backwards, and she braced for impact and shut her eyes as the first rooftop approached, but they didn’t crash against it because Kaku did something before he hit it. She felt it in the shift of his body, like he had bounced off the surface.

Alex paid more attention to his feet after she realized she wasn’t going to die splattered against a rooftop, and the second time she saw it: right before his shoes touched the roof tiles, he jumped again, stepping on air, effectively creating the illusion that he was jumping from building to building.

The adrenaline-fueled fear of impending doom was suddenly replaced by cold dread.

She had seen that before. She knew what that was.

A civilian couldn’t possibly know how to do that.

So who was the man carrying her right now? The only thing separating her from certain death? Could he have learned to do that anywhere else or could it be a different technique? There was always a chance that he was retired, but he was so young, and already so skilled, and she knew for a fact that the Marines didn’t like letting go of those.

…Marines?

Where… where had she heard the name Lucci, again…?

She had to be imagining things, for sure, but she also had a strong feeling that she needed to take her leave from the island as soon as possible. She was sleeping with a gun under her pillow that night.

With a few last hops, Kaku landed on firm ground and Alex thanked her lucky stars when he put her down safely. She felt lightheaded, and wasn’t sure if it was because of the sudden freefall or that her all-consuming paranoia had her doubting the intentions of one of Galley-La’s foremen, which sounded increasingly stupid the longer her feet where in contact with solid stone.

“Here we are,” he said, gesturing at something behind Alex’s back.

Her reaction was slow, but when she turned around, she saw a door with a big red sign above that said Blueno’s.

She felt a pang of guilt for being afraid of the guy when he had done her a huge favor, albeit in a kind of dickish way. Dock 1 was a good ways away, and she would have given up if she had had to walk there. She looked at him and admitted, “That was pretty cool once I got over the heart attack.”

She still sounded kind of breathless and didn’t know if asking how he had learned to extreme parkour was a good idea.

Kaku laughed with joy that rang true. “My apologies about that. I rarely ever have company on the way down.”

She tried to picture Kaku grabbing Lucci the same way he had done to her and jumping down, and her brain broke during the attempt. “Yeah, I can’t imagine that colleague of yours with the top hat jumping down the…” She trailed off, interrupted by her own thoughts and questions about that other guy, and the pause became awkward. “Anyway—”

“You can ask,” he said, smiling.

She jumped at the opportunity. “Is he a ventriloquist?”

“It’s a hobby,” Kaku replied, amused, as he pushed the door open. “Ladies first.”

Alex didn’t know what it was with every strange man he came across lately that their courtesies sounded vaguely threatening, but she entered the venue, nonetheless.

It was much nicer than she had expected. The bartender was a wide man with a circle beard and hair sticking out like horns, and he was appropriately wiping a set of glasses behind the counter, like every barman should during their first introduction.

“Good afternoon, Blueno!” Kaku greeted him before Alex could say anything, going inside after her.

“Same as always?”

“Please.” He leaned against the bar. Alex sat on a barstool near him and tried to be emotionally ready to be the third wheel in two strangers’ interaction. “Oh, and something for the others, too. Whatever it is. We’re finishing a big repair today and you know how it goes.”

“Is it the Marine warship?”

“A windjammer for a private client. Working metal is a pain, and they want it yesterday.” He sounded displeased for the first time since they had met. “You can’t rush a good job.”

“The customer is never right,” Blueno agreed.

Kaku raised an eyebrow at him. “I hope that wasn’t directed at me.”

“Of course not,” Blueno’s reply sounded paternalistic. Alex could sense the history behind these two. “It’s odd to see you with someone else.”

Kaku put aside his mild annoyance to introduce her. “She’s Alex. She was visiting the shipyards and I brought her along on my way down.”

“Hi,” she said, looking for any other words she had learned during the course of her life and drawing a blank. Someone kill her, please.

“I see. I thought the landing sounded heavier than usual,” Blueno observed.

“Attentive as always.” Kaku commended him. “But what an awful thing to say to a young lady. She’s light as a two-by-four.”

“No offense meant,” Blueno said to her in good humor. “It’s part of the job.”

“None taken, I’m at least a four-by-four.”

There was a hint of a smile, on his face when he asked, “What will you have?”

“Whatever you recommend. I haven’t eaten since I woke up.”

“Can you believe she walked all the way to Dock 1 to sightsee?” Kaku chuckled. “I didn’t think historians were the sporty types.”

“You heard that?”

“I have pretty good hearing, too.”

“I can’t imagine what type of madman wouldn’t ride a Yagara to make that trip,” Blueno replied. No doubts about who he had in mind this time. “A historian, huh? I suppose this city’s fairly old.”

“The architecture’s really interesting.” She replied, finally reaching a topic that she could talk about. Though she was a bit concerned that they knew what she was because Suspicious Foreman was suspicious, she didn’t see what harm could come of it. “It’s impressive to think this is all supported by wood pillars.”

“They keep sinking year by year, though. At this rate, there won’t be a city in a few decades,” Kaku said, surprisingly grim.

“Thanks for showing me the rooftops while they’re still visible, then,” Alex joked in a weak attempt to bring his good mood back.

It worked. He had such a cute smile. “You’re more than welcome.” He turned to the bartender. “Now then, Blueno…”

“Right away,” the man replied, going into the kitchen and leaving Alex and Kaku alone for a few minutes.

A companionable silence, until Kaku broke it and his question put Alex on edge again. “Where do historians in the making study nowadays, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Marineford, mostly. There aren’t many places left.” The same people offering the current curriculum had made sure of it.

“And what drives someone so young to be so interested in history?”

She had been asked that question so many times, and the real answer was always curiosity. To learn the truths that shaped the present. She had the folder with the Poneglyph transcript in her backpack to account for that.

But even partial truths could be dangerous given her current situation, so she replied, “I could ask the same of you. How does someone so young get so good at building ships?”

There was a flash of surprise in his face at the question being turned against him. It was quickly substituted by one of his smiles, but Alex had the impression that he was very aware that she was deflecting on purpose. “I’ve liked them since I was a kid,” he said. “I couldn’t tell you why.”

She shrugged, mirroring his smile. “There’s your answer.”

He laughed lightly and turned to look at the bottles behind the bar with an amused expression. He didn’t insist or say anything else, and the more at ease he looked, the more anxious Alex grew.

It wasn’t long until Blueno showed up again with a bag full of sandwiches wrapped in paper in one hand and a towering plate of pasta with black sauce on the other that she set in front of Alex.

“Thanks,” Kaku said, putting the money on the counter and grabbing the bag. “See you later.” And he faced Alex one last time, lifting his cap a little in a polite gesture and revealing a blonde mass of curls. “It’s been a pleasure. Good luck on your travels.”

“Thank you!”

He left the bar, and his departure added to the leaning tower of pasta made her think that her day was starting to look up until she remembered that she had only mentioned she was leaving soon to Iceburg.

How long had he been listening in?

❦

She couldn’t sleep.

Despite her misgivings, the rest of the day had passed without incident. She booked a room for the night at an inn off the beaten path that Blueno had recommended, checked out the maritime museum, and nearly fallen asleep after half an hour because that was the effect that, sadly, most museums had on her. But she did see an old picture next to a Sea Train model of Tom, his two apprentices, and the master of Shift Station.

Time didn’t wait for anybody, she thought as she flexed her aching hands.

She ended up walking around again, this time only through the lowest district, rejecting even the mere sight of stairs, and saw a cape where someone had built the weirdest and most colorful house of the city. Near it was a scrapyard, and though she had no intentions of going close to either, a couple of locals told her to watch her belongings while she was there. It was a bit nostalgic.

It was difficult to believe, she thought as she stared at the ceiling of her room, that such a vibrant city was sinking under its own weight, and that as soon as the sea swallowed it, there would be nothing but stories being told about it. Maybe that was how those legends of ancient islands that disappeared came to be. Maybe Water 7 would become a legend to, a few centuries down the line.

She fidgeted with the stone around her neck, a nervous habit had for as long as she’d been wearing it. It was better than biting her nails, at least, but it looked weird when she wore it inside her clothes and unconsciously reached for it, so she did her best to avoid it.

She was very tired and sore from all that walking, but try as she might, she couldn’t turn off her thoughts. After way too much tossing and turning, she decided she would rather see more of the city than waste her time in bed. She could catch up on sleep when she boarded the ship to Sabaody, anyway.

She picked up the same pair of jeans she had been wearing all day, the black tank top she usually wore under her sweaters, and tossed around her shoulders the same red shawl she used to wear like a scarf in Harlun. It wasn’t cold outside, but the night breeze was somewhat chilly. Better safe than sorry.

She debated whether to pick up the gun in her backpack or leave it there, and she decided on the former. A present from her father when she came of age for the sake of her safety, and one she had never liked.

It wasn’t too late yet, only a few minutes past 10 PM, and there was still a healthy flow of people on the streets. Alex made her way to one of the many Yagara rental shops still open and paid for one of the small ones. There she went, defeating her own purpose like the hypocrite she was.

“One question,” she told the shop owner as she settled on the boat, “Are the docks open at this hour?”

“They usually leave the doors open, yeah. Sometimes there’s people working at night.” He replied. “Why, you want to go now?”

“I was thinking of checking out the view from the highest part of the city.”

“That so? Then you just need to go up one of the main canals in the Shipbuilding Island.”

“Thanks!” She said, and then patted the Yagara on the head. It was cold, wet and scaly. “Can you bring me to Dock 1? There’s no hurry.” She had seen one of them speeding through a canal early and she was not ready for that.

The Yagara uttered a high-pitched guttural sound that no fishlike creature had any business doing and started to swim at a relaxed pace.

Alex didn’t know how long it took them to get to their destination, distracted as she was watching the city from a different viewpoint, but the higher they went, the less people that seemed to be out. By the time they reached Dock 1, the area was devoid of human presence, and all the ship parts and materials Alex had seen in the morning had been either moved somewhere safer or covered by tarps to protect them from the weather.

The Yagara continued its slow ascent through the canal that separated Dock 1 and 2, and the base of the fountain wasn’t too far when she heard hammering sounds. Someone was still working.

Curiosity, as was usual, got the best of her and she told the Yagara to slow down. Whoever was there also noticed her presence, because the hammering stopped.

A man stepped under the light of a streetlight, hammer in hand, to check out the canal, and Alex realized with surprise that he was none other than Water 7’s mayor, though he had shed the jacket and shirt. He was wearing only an undershirt with those awful striped pants from before and business shoes.

“Who’s there?” He asked.

Alex realized the light didn’t reach her, so he was probably just seeing a shadow, and in the deserted dock it had to be more than a little unnerving. She nudged the Yagara towards the light and replied, “It’s me from before! Sorry to interrupt, I was just passing by!”

Iceburg looked at her with interest and approached her, so she thought it was only polite to step out of the boat.

“Where are you going at this hour?” He asked, stopping at arm’s length of her.

“I was trying to get to the top of the city.” She smiled apologetically. “I’m sightseeing.”

He relaxed upon hearing the explanation, and with a smile, he said, “Glad to see that the scare from earlier didn’t kill you.”

It was official, everybody in Dock 1 had decided to pick on her. “It could have!” She replied. “Does he do that often?”

“Jumping? Yes, but most of the time he doesn’t take people with him. He did it to Paulie once and he was foaming at the mouth when they landed. Never heard the end of it for a week." The fondness with which he spoke betrayed that he hadn’t minded the aftermath as much as the words suggested.

She didn’t know who Paulie was, but he was justified in being upset. She also thought that it was nice to meet a boss that seemed to appreciate his workers. “I don’t see other shipwrights around. Are you working here alone?”

“Nmaa…” he started lazily, “I sent them home. The heavy lifting was done; I can finish it myself.”

Iceburg may have been a shipwright before becoming president of the company, but Alex hadn’t expected him to do manual labor when he had paid other people for it. “The windjammer?”

“Kaku told you?” He sounded pleased, and he answered the unspoken question from before. She assumed he got it a lot. “My day job is meetings, papers and ass kissing all day long. I prefer this.”

This was much easier to reconcile with the stories she had heard of Water 7. “I can’t say I’d mind the papers, but the rest sounds exhausting.”

“Bodies need to move. Weren’t you doing field research today?”

“By accident.” She couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her face. He was easy to talk to, and seeing this side of him, she didn’t feel like she had to watch her words so much. “I’m trying to find a way home. Train and ship schedules brought me here.”

“You chose a difficult time of the year to sail. Is it far away?”

She nodded lightly. “It’s still a ways away.” Nonetheless, she was glad for this detour. Maybe that was why she found the courage to say, “I have a friend who came to this city about twenty years ago. He said you worked on his ship.”

Maybe it was because she lost filters when she was tired.

“Is that so?” He said, curious. “I’ve worked in many ships. Things were very different back then.” He glanced away, at the district that had only taken this shape a few years ago, thanks to him. “Did the ship do its job?”

She wondered what to say. Nothing that could do it justice, for sure. “Brought them to the end of the world, in fact.”

She wished she had been there to see it.

Iceburg’s eyes widened with surprise, and after a short, contemplative silence, he said, “That ship took much from us.” There was hurt in his voice. “I think Tom knew it would be one of his last, so he put his everything in it. He would have done anything for his friends.”

It was easy to forget that every great story had real people behind it. “Sorry for bringing it up.”

He shook his head. “We never regretted it, so… don’t. It was a magnificent ship. Tom’s best work, after the Sea Train.” He paused. “Is your friend okay?”

“Doing alright for sure. He’d be all over the papers if something happened to him.”

“That’s good to hear.” A smile that reached his eyes came back only to morph into a sigh in an instant. “Well, I need to go back to…”

“Of course!” She said very quickly. “Sorry for holding you up. It was a pleasure to meet you.” And to put a face to the stories, too.

“I should say the same,” he said, and it didn’t sound like an empty pleasantry. “Fair winds on the way back home.”

“Thank you.”

As he started to walk away, Alex hopped back on the boat and pulled the shawl tighter around her. Perhaps she should have put on a jacket, after all.

The view from the top of the district was as spectacular as she had hoped.

❦

She wasn’t sure how she got up from bed the next morning. Must have been the fairies that pushed her upright, because everything hurt and she was so exhausted that she couldn’t even open her eyes after a thorough face wash. Somehow, she managed to drag her feet to the dining room and have a light breakfast. Bless the laziness that had prevented her from changing into her pajamas again before she dropped on the bed when she returned from the docks, because she didn’t think she’d have been able to stick her legs in the right holes of the jeans.

She returned to her room, triple checked to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind, and checked out of the inn.

Despite the brief but intense stay, and the uneasy feeling she had since she had met Kaku, she didn’t really want to go, but she had done the right thing booking passage for the ship to Sabaody. Imagine getting stuck in a city next to one of the government’s main islands because of a high tide. No, thanks, she hadn’t come this far to fail when she was a week away from her destination.

So it was with a bit of regret that Alex boarded the passenger ship that would carry her to the archipelago, but she had always been good at ignoring what she felt like doing in favor of what had to be done, and this was going to be no exception.

From the deck, she saw a pirate ship sail past them, black flag with a straw hat billowing in the wind.

#what are tags even and what are titles #degrees of separation

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cakesunflower · 5 years

Text

Quiet Hours [College!Luke AU] Ch. 6

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Chapter 6

AS SOMEONE IN her third year of college, Ophelia felt wildly stupid for forgetting about Homecoming Weekend. Friday was spent at the movies and Starbucks with her friends and neighbors, but when she woke up particularly early on Saturday morning, it was to a message from her mother, telling her that they would be arriving on campus within half an hour. At first, Ophelia was confused as to why her family was coming, and then a bell struck in her head and she realized it was Homecoming. How the hell could she have forgotten that?

So, like every year, she put on a pair of her favorite ripped jeans, a red and black university shirt and her denim jacket on top after showering and doing her makeup. Isabelle and Tanya were already out to be with their families, since it was nearly ten in the morning and the Homecoming festivities began at nine. With her headphones in her ears and music deafening her to the rest of the world, Ophelia left the building and headed towards the courtyard in front of the student center where all of the main events were going on and where she was to meet up with her family.

She took out her headphones when she reached the courtyard, hearing the music playing throughout the campus as she saw the amount of people around. It was a sea of red and black, really, with everyone wearing the school colors, and there was a different kind of inflatable obstacle course than last time on one end of the courtyard. Food trucks and carnival games were also setup, along with face painting and henna booths.

Eventually, Ophelia caught sight of her family; her mom, dad, older brother Finn, Paisley, and Paisley’s fiance Elissa, all of whom stood near the steps of the student center. “Oh, I missed you, honey,” Idina Wright sighed as she hugged her youngest daughter before having to pull away so Ophelia could hug her father and the rest of her family.

“You look so cute,” Elissa grinned as she hugged her soon-to-be sister-in-law, taking in her college attire, thinking how only Ophelia could work denim on denim that well.

Ophelia then led her family to the dining hall, where a pancake breakfast was being served for students and their families. It was packed inside, busier than usual as the music playing throughout the room was overpowered by the chattering of everyone there, yet somehow they managed to find a corner table, with Ophelia’s Dad and Finn saving the table for the women to get food before coming back and letting them go.

They ate together, catching up as Ophelia filled them in on what was going on and telling them about being the resident advisor. As she began eating her second pancake, Paisley, who was separated from her with their mom in the middle, suddenly spoke up, “hey, Lia, isn’t that your neighbor?”

Ophelia, having just put a bite of the sweet pancake in her mouth, stared at her sister in brief confusion before following her gaze to the front over her brother’s head, catching sight of who she was talking about. As she chewed, she saw Luke walking in their general direction as he talked to a guy that looked remarkably like him. Luke hadn’t yet seen Ophelia, giving her ample opportunity to just revel in how good he looked, dressed in black jeans with rips in the knees, a red hoodie with the university name written in black with the hood popping out from under the black leather jacket he wore on top.

She nearly choked at the sight of him, the threat of that happening increasing as Luke’s head suddenly turned and his blue eyes locked with her hazel. Ophelia forcefully swallowed down her bite as Luke and his older look-alike got closer, lips parting to form the smirk that always seemed to come around whenever Ophelia saw him as she watched him say something to the guy before the older blonde’s gaze landed on her as well. Oh, God, is he coming this way?

Her thought was quickly answered as Luke walked towards her, the other guy trailing behind him as her neighbor stopped by the end of their table, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket as he greeted, “hi, Ophelia.” Luke’s blue eyes flickered to the other familiar girl seated there before adding, “hey, Paisley.”

Ophelia’s sister waved and greeted him right back while the rest of the family peered up at the tall, Australian boy curiously before throwing this questioning gazes over to the youngest member of the family. Ophelia sat up before offering a smile, “uh, guys, this is Luke—he’s my neighbor.”

Luke wanted to tease her, jokingly wanting to say that he thought they were friends, but let it slide as he offered a charming grin to Ophelia’s family. She watched as his dimples came into view under his dark blonde facial hair, showing off unfairly white teeth as his accented voice said, “it’s nice to meet you all.” Then, gesturing to the man beside him, added, “this is my brother, Jack.”

Everyone said their friendly hellos, and Ophelia’s gaze happened to meet Elissa’s, who was quirking a knowing eyebrow at the younger girl. She felt her cheeks heat up before quickly looking back up at Luke, reveling in the way the top of his hair was pushed back because he had it tied into a sort of half updo. He looked so good. “I just wanted to come by and say hello,” Luke grinned at the family before his blue eyes landed on Ophelia, her own small yet nervous smile on her pouty lips. “I’ll see you later, R.A. Ophelia,” he added, his smile subtly turning into a smirk that only she picked up.

He then walked away after one last smile to her family, who went back to eating their food after he and Jack said their goodbyes, and Luke glanced over his shoulder to offer a two fingered salute just for Ophelia before disappearing in the growing crowd of people lingering in the dining hall.

Once he was gone, Ophelia felt a nudge to her left, prompting her to see the way her mother was raising mischievous eyebrows. “He’s so cute, Lia,” she grinned, using her knife and fork to cut into her blueberry pancakes while wiggling her brows.

“That’s what I said!” Paisley piped in, leaning forward on the table to look at her younger sister. Pointing her fork at Ophelia, she added, “he lives right next door to you—you’ve got no excuse to not get with him.”

Across the table, Finn’s face scrunched up in distaste as their dad held his free hand up. “Okay, hey, whoa—let’s not have this conversation when I’m here.”

“Or me,” Finn added, shaking his head because the last thing he wanted to hear was his baby sister getting with some tall foreign kid.

Meanwhile, Ophelia was staring at her sister and mother in mild disbelief, a small laugh escaping her as she returned her attention to her food. How the hell was it that almost everyone around her seemingly wanted her to be with Luke in one way or the other—her friends, her sister, mother, and even Luke himself. Sure, she also wanted to know what Luke’s lips felt like on hers, if his hair was as soft as it looked, and what it’d be like to have his body pressed up against hers but, shit, at least she was silent and subtle about it.

“We’re just not having this conversation at all,” Ophelia said, shooting a pointed look to her family members as she picked up her glass of orange juice. She ignored the huffs of disappointment from Paisley and her mother, sipping the cold drink as her eyes flickered over the rim, somehow landing on the very boy she was thinking about.

Man, he was everywhere. Lowering her cup, Ophelia saw Luke sitting with people who were probably his family at a circular table in the middle of the dining hall. She saw his profile, with Jack to his right alongside a pretty girl and another older blonde guy that looked a lot like Luke and Jack. To Luke’s right were a man and a woman, who Ophelia assumed were his parents, as Luke laughed animatedly at whatever was being said, his laughter muted by the noisy chatter of the room.

Ophelia shoved another piece of pancake into her mouth, chewing rather roughly because now she was getting worked up at how Goddamn good Luke looked. She hadn’t really seen him wear color a lot, since he mostly kept to wearing white, black and grey, but in that red school hoodie? Luke looked ridiculously cuddly, and that leather jacket on top had her wishing he would press her against the wall and—

Oh, my God, I need to relax, she cut that train of thought off immediately, forcing herself to tune into the conversation her family was having, pushing all thoughts of Luke out of her mind for as long as she could.

*****

Throughout the day, Ophelia wondered if God, or the universe, was playing some kind of trick on her. She only considered this because no matter where she and her family went, she somehow always either ran into Luke or caught sight of him in the crowd. Whether it be at one of the family alumni sessions—this was Ophelia’s mom’s alma mater—or the football game, or even the huge courtyard where all of the main activities were going on, Ophelia somehow always managed to find Luke.

It was unnerving, how her eyes seemed to seek out his blue ones even through a thick crowd without meaning to. Every time they made eye contact, that smug yet familiar smirk would appear on Luke’s face and he’d hold his hand up in a wave, and Ophelia’s lips would fumble for a smile before looking away as fast as she could. What if he thought she was some kind of weirdo who was stalking him or something? Ophelia was already a flustered mess around Luke most of the time, she didn’t need him thinking she was following him around, too. God, wasn’t she supposed to be better than this?

It was towards the end of the night and the festivities were dying down, and Ophelia was walking her family towards the car park since they, her parents in particular, had a long drive ahead of them. As they walked, Paisley slung her arm around her younger sister’s shoulder and asked, “so can I write you down for a plus one on the wedding invite?” Ophelia quirked a puzzled eyebrow as Paisley grinned, “you know, so there’s a seat for Luke next to you.”

Ophelia’s eyes shut as she let out a groan, throwing her head back as she did so as Paisley snickered. She ignored the looks the rest of her family threw back at them as they walked ahead, before glaring up at her sister. “Would you stop?” she all but whined, trying to push Paisley away though the twenty-four year old didn’t budge. “You’re making it sound like there’s something going on between us.”

Elissa, who was walking on the other side of Paisley, chimed in, “if there’s nothing going on right now, there definitely will be soon.”

Paisley grinned proudly at her fiance, her right hand going to hold Elissa’s left while her other arm was still draped around Ophelia’s shoulder. The shorter girl, however, merely parted her lips in surprise. “Why would you think that?” she sputtered out, a nervous laugh following her words.

The strawberry blonde haired woman on the other side of Paisley scoffed. “Oh, please, Lia,” she laughed, rolling her green eyes. “When he first walked up to the table, the two of you were practically having eye-sex.” Ophelia let out an affronted exclaim as Paisley began giggling, while the former looked forward and hoped her brother and parents weren’t listening in. “And then I saw you kept looking at him literally everywhere we went. Honestly, hon, it’s like you two get off just by the sight of each other.”

That caused Ophelia’s eyes to bulge out in astonishment, a short gasp escaping her parted lips as she listened to Elissa. Get off just by the sight of each other? Was she serious or was she just trying to freak me out? Ophelia couldn’t believe her ears, because surely that’s not what it was like with her and Luke? She just thought every time she stared at Luke she was just looking at him like any normal person does—not having eye-sex with him. What even was that?

Before Ophelia could even hope to defend herself or protest against Elissa’s words, they had reached the familiar family Buick in the parking lot. Ophelia’s parents pulled her in for hugs and kisses, saying she needed to come home for a visit some weekend while her brother hugged and kissed her temple. When she went to hug Paisley and Elissa, both women said something along the lines of hooking up with Luke, which only caused the younger girl’s cheeks to set afire and lips to press together tightly. They needed to stop because she was getting flustered, and it was bad enough she was like that in front of Luke—if she got like that by the mere thought or mention of him, then she was seriously screwed.

She waved off her family, smiling even though her mind was running with her sister’s and Elissa’s words, before turning and walking in the direction of the apartment building—she had to start rounds soon. To distract herself, Ophelia put in her headphones and listened to her eighties playlist, making the five minute walk seem even shorter as she reached the building soon enough. Once the elevator doors slid open to her floor, she stepped out and took out her headphones, only to pause when she saw the person standing in front of their apartment a couple of doors down.

“Haven’t seen you all day,” Luke joked, key card in between his fingers as he looked down the hall towards her approaching form. Just like Ophelia, he obviously realized that he had seen her around campus throughout the day, though unlike her, the amusing thought of her stalking him didn’t ever cross his mind. No—Luke, like Ophelia, thought the universe or whatever God there was, was pulling some kind of prank on him. It was bad enough his thoughts stemmed from the darkest parts of his mind whenever he saw Ophelia on the occasion, but seeing her around all fucking day—even if it was for a split second through a crowd of people—did not do well for his greedy body.

Ophelia smiled as she walked down the hall. “Yeah, tell me about it,” she responded just as teasingly, pressing her lips together as she walked past Luke to get to her own door. As she fished her own key card out of in between her phone and case, she turned her head to the left to look at Luke as she conversationally asked, “did you have fun with your family?”

Luke stood twirling the card between his ring clad fingers, facing the door yet his head turned to look at Ophelia as he smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I did,” he answered sincerely, and Ophelia’s own lips twitched at the sight of his fond smile as he thought of his family. “They live, like, three hours away so it was good to see them. What about you?”

“Yeah, it was great,” she answered, no longer in a rush to get into her room as she stood in the carpeted hall with Luke just a few feet away. “I’m pretty sure my brother ate from every food truck there was.”

The Australian chuckled at that, before pausing as a confused expression took over his face, brows steepened with a tilt of his head. “Wait, I thought that guy was your sister’s fiance?” he questioned because he could’ve sworn he saw a huge diamond on Paisley’s finger.

Ophelia blinked as a bewildered expression of her own flashed across her face before realization dawned and her lips parted. “Ohh, no,” she finally said, letting out a laugh with a shake of her head. “The other woman—Elissa, the redhead? She’s my sister’s fiance.”

Luke’s blue eyes widened as his eyebrows shot up, a mixture of surprise and comprehension expressing on his features. “Oh! Oh, wow,” he let out a sheepish chuckle, ring decorated fingers running through his somewhat long hair that was no longer in a bun. “Sorry,” he added, feeling embarrassed for just assuming. “They’re a cute couple.”

Ophelia grinned, nodding along. “Yeah, they are,” she agreed, her smile genuine and the cheekbones Luke was finding himself to become obsessed with standing out. She was so lovely, he couldn’t help but once again think if she felt the same under him. Knowing that if Luke kept staring at her so intently the way he was doing so right now, she quickly inserted her key card in the slot and threw a smile his way. “I should, uh, go—I have to start rounds in a bit.”

Luke watched as she opened the door, flipping his card between his fingers before inserting it in his own door slot. “I’ll see you later, R.A. Ophelia.”

Ophelia smiled one last time before entering her apartment. Shit, I hope.

tags: @crownedbyluke @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @valentinelrh @hotmessmichael @meetashthere @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @c-sainthood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @babygirlcashton @calntynes @invisiblexcth @inlovehoodx @soulmatecashton @calumsmermaid @kchillout @thewackywriter @akacalciumhood @calumculture @ohhmuke @empathycth @flannelpunkcalum @poppedpins @novacanecalum @walkedhomealone @calistheloml @gettingjillywithit @hearts-to-the-sky @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-stan4lyfe @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @calumthoodsyonce @xhaileyreneex @rosecoloredash @asht0ns-world @cxddlyash @mysteriouslycali @lmao5sosimagines @monsteramongmikey @calteahood @5secondssofssummer @sublimehood @bloodlinecal @biwriting

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shenscosmicdisaster · 5 years

Text

Primavera | Bio

Full name

Classified

Preferred name/nickname

Primavera Bloom

Generally referred to as

Prima

Race/Class

Lightforged Sin’dorei Paladin

Appearance.

GENDER: Trans Male HEIGHT: 6′6 WEIGHT: 231 lbs BUILD: Seems lanky but is actually fairly buff and has triangle shape to his torso. You know, typical dorito shape. HAIR: [describe their hair, is it long or short? Soft or course? Do they style it a certain way? Do they dye it?]

Glowing pale gold, fairly straight, one large loop that always curls from the top of his head down to just past his chin. He has bangs that almost cover his eyes, heavier on his left side then his right to cover his scars. It’s just past his waist in length, at least normally. It grows whenever he’s feeling a negative emotion and turns blue the longer it gets- a stark contrast to the lightforged gold that it usually is.

SKIN: [What colour is their skin? Is it rough or smooth? Is it soft or hard? Note: feel free to change this to fur/scales etc if that’s more appropriate for your character!]

Dark skinned with freckles, vibrantly glowy runes decorate his entire body and shift from full white glowing to a dull gold depending on.. something not entirely clear.

EYES: [What colour are their eyes? Do they have a distinctive sparkle or do they look kind of dull and tired? Long or short eyelashes? Eye bags? Wrinkles? Hooded lids?]

Nearly white eyes with a hint of gold to them, they burn brightly and are very very glowy. A lot of him is very glowy. He has fairly long eyelashes and he does NOTHING with it. You can usually see him with half-lidded eyes and bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days.

MOUTH: [Big mouth or small? Plump lips or thin lips? Perfect white teeth or crooked, gappy ones?]

Thin lips, jacked up with scars on the left side. He’s got fairly large fangs and canines. Most of his teeth is actually fairly sharper then the average.

NOSE: [Big or little? Pointy or bulbousy? Huge, cavernous nostrils or teeny little ones?]

Long, slightly larger then average nose, it’s got a scar across the bridge of it.

HANDS: [Big or small? Manicured fingernails? Claws? Wrinkles? Visible veins? Bony knuckles? Or smooth skin and soft features?]

His hands are large and calloused with scars along the backs of them- they seem to have had much use over the years. The tips of his fingers are oddly blacked and his nails are long and sharp when they aren’t hidden under his gauntlets.

SCARS: [Any visible scars?]

Many deep scars all over his torso, arms, and one very suspicious one across his neck that looks like whatever happened there should have killed him. He has a lot of scars over the backs of his hands and what looks like shadow-burned skin on his fore-arms. Those are covered by glowing white runes however.

CLOTHES: [What is their clothing style?]

Prefers blacks and dark clothing to combat his brightness and glowing runes and hair and such. Will never be seen wearing white, if he is he’s an impostor. Prefers baggy clothing when not wearing armor, outfits with hoods and poofy sleeves and loose fitting pants. When in armor he prefers a sleek obsidian look.

OTHER FEATURES: [Optional for non-human characters, or human characters with uncommon features]

He has feathers that grow along his neck, back, and joints (Shoulders, elbows, knees, etc), they’re an almost firey orange color and they flatten and puff up in response to different situations.

His ears are also longer then average and scarred towards the tips, ending with a sharp crease.

Mannerisms.

FACE: [Do they have an expressive face? Do they show their emotions in their face? Or do they tend to have a poker face most of the time?]

He tends towards a pokerface that he almost never drops. The most you’ll get of an expression out of his face is his twitching eyebrows or a squint of his eyes. He never seems to open his mouth, even if he eats he usually does it behind a hand.

HANDS: [Do they make a lot of hand gestures? What kind of gestures do they use?]

He tends to gesture to express a phrase nonverbally and also prefers sign-language to speech. He’s fairly expressive with his hands actually, but it’s hard to figure out what the expression is.

LEGS/FEET: [Do they tap their feet or jiggle their leg?]

He shakes his leg a lot, not really to anything in particular. It’s just a habit of his. It gets kind of annoying sometimes because he doesn’t seem to be aware of the noise all the time. Otherwise, he stands very still and at attention- he only shakes his leg when he’s sitting down.

EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: [Are they prone to these? Do they tend to cry or yell when they’re upset, or laugh and jump about when they’re happy?]

Almost never. He tends to lock up when feeling high emotions, the main indicator of something being wrong is his hair seemingly growing and lengthening in his stress. But there are small indicators. He grinds his jaw when angry, drops his gaze when sad, lifts his brows when happy. Other then that it’s immensely hard to tell what he’s feeling.

HABITS: [Do they have any habits, like humming or singing or fidgeting or fiddling?]

He fiddles when he thinks he’s alone. Fidgets with objects, rubs his knuckles and taps them together. If he notices that he’s in fact not alone however, he immediately becomes somehow more stilted then before.

POSTURE: [Do they usually stand straight and to attention, or do they tend to slump? Does their posture change with their mood? How does it change?]

He stands straight backed and attention at all times! ...For the most part. He slouches and slumps his shoulders when he’s really truly exhausted though.

WALKING POSTURE: [How do they walk? Do they skip gleefully along, do they march like a soldier, do they slump their shoulders and stomp around?]

Marching like a soldier is pretty accurate for him. He moves like he was trained to do it in a very specific way and his particularness about it makes him come off as fairly intimidating.

SITTING POSTURE: [How do they like to sit? Cross legged? Slouched? Feet apart or together?]

He sits fairly properly, knees together and body always tense and seeming ready to bolt or to fight. When alone however, he tends towards sitting cross-legged and slouched, usually taking the time to recover from .. something. That info’s classified.

PERSONAL SPACE: [Do they like to maintain a personal bubble, or does it bother them when people get in their personal space? Do they tend to be respecful of others’ personal space?]

He definitely maintains his personal space and gets very irritated when his personal space is intruded on. He will actively push you away if you get too close. He will also actively push you into a lake if you continue to get too close.

SPACIAL AWARENESS: [Are they good at noticing what’s around their physical space? Or do they tend to be clumsy and bump into things?]

He’s way too attentive to his surroundings and he almost never bumps into anything. He seems to glide about the room or area like he knew it like the back of his hand.

Personal.

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: [Is your character one of these? How does that manifest in their life?]

It’s hard to tell but he’s actually extroverted! He tends to keep to himself but being around people and being in large crowds. It makes him feel less alone and more energized to know that he belongs to a community and isn’t an outlier.

OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: [Which of these are they? Or are they in between?]

Pessimist, mostly. It’s hard for him to look on the positives of a situation but he keeps it to himself. Pretty easy to, really, seeing as he’s mute.

GENDER: [What is the character’s gender, if any? Do they feel that their gender matches their anatomy?]

He’s a trans man! He’s gone through the works of figuring it out and is currently fairly comfortable with his body.

SEXUALITY: [What type of person do they feel sexual attraction for, if any? Do they have a preference for one sex/gender in particular? Do they prefer their own race/species, or another? Is there any type of person they absolutely would NOT want to get into bed with? Or do they have no preference?]

It’s not something he thinks about very often, but he’s Bisexual and leans towards guys in attraction! He hates nobles and probably would never date one. Probably. Other then that, nothing too special here.

ROMANTIC: [Are they inclined towards romance? Do they enjoy lots of romance, a little, or do they prefer no romance at all? Do they see themselves married with kids one day, or would they prefer to be alone?]

He’s a romantic at heart and admits it to no one, not even himself. He tries to shut down any feelings he ever gets and doesn’t see himself ever getting married or even having a proper relationship.

MEMORY: [Do they have a good memory? Or are they forgetful? Are they good at remembering certain things and not others?]

He’s a lot more forgetful then he lets on but he makes up for it in being able to adapt to the situation and pretend that yes, he knows exactly what is going on and didn’t forget the person you are talking about. Who are you again?

PLANNING: [Are they good at planning? Do they spend a lot of time planning or do they tend to leap right into things?]

Zero prep, all action. He’s reckless, but again! Adaptability helps. He seems very good at prep but it’s all fake, he’s winging it.

PENSIVE: [Do they spend a lot of time thinking over their actions, their life, their problems, etc?]

He spends too much time thinking about his family, or, what used to be his family. It’s easy for him to get sucked into the thoughts but he manages as best as he can to push it down and away from his central focus.

INTUITION: [Are they good at making the right decisions, or at figuring things out from minimal clues?]

Uh. Good question! Next one please.

PROBLEM SOLVING: [Are they good at dealing with puzzles and problems?]

Yes. He’s got a knack for puzzles, they’re neat to him. Actual personal problems? Nope. He’s got nothing for you there.

GOALS: [What is their main goal in life? Do they have any short-term goals?]

INSECURITIES: [Is there anything they are insecure about? Do they hide their insecurities well? Do they affect the way they live their life?]

ANXIETY: [What, if anything, causes the character to feel anxiety?]

Too much negative energy and also glass shattering. For whatever reason, glass shattering seems to make him get really jittery and will bolt if startled.

OVERWHELMED: [Do they ever feel like things are just too much?]

People arguing around him seems to overwhelm him quickly, it fills his mind with static and he stops being able to function properly. Takes too long to respond to anything and his hands shake when he tries to do anything. It takes a while for him to recover from it.

SELF-HELP: [How do they deal with their life problems?]

By crying internally. No really, half of the time he’s just winging it and doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Dealing with real problems isn’t his strong suit at all!

COMFORTS: [What helps the character to feel comfortable and happy?]

Pillows. Fluffy things. Plushies. Sweets. He will sink into a fluffy blanket and stay there for hours just because it makes him feel content. No, he will not admit this either. A good cup of jasmine tea is also a nice comfort to him too. Reminds him of good times.

BAD HABITS: [Do they have any bad habits?]

He scratches his arms when he gets anxious. Usually not that hard so it’s not a big deal but it’s a habit he developed when he was much younger and is still trying to break out of it...

---

Despite a lot of his habits and things however, Primavera is a bit of a prankster and a jokester. You won’t ever believe it was him when he pulls his pranks though, just because of his very thick walls he seems to have up at all times. In summary, he’s quiet, mysterious, never actually knows what he’s doing and looks cool while fucking up. His history and past is a mystery, but isn’t every good mystery something fun to solve?

#Primavera Bloom #bio #character personal

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emily-charles · 5 years

Text

My last nightmare: (January 10th, 2020)

(None of this is well-written or thought-out. There’s probably typos, or errors, but I wrote it out because my nightmares suck, and I was told once to record them. I wrote it out, still half asleep.) So I'm a black woman, with this amazing, springy, short curly hair. Personally, as a white gal, I'm not used to it, and I keep playing with it. It sounds stupid, but I've never been given that opportunity before. I'm beautiful (from my point of view, but 'I'/she doesn't think so as much). She is actually really soul crushing about how mean she is to herself. It hurts me to hear others think that way about themselves. But I know I do it too some days. She's stunning, but she thinks she's plain. 'Nothing much', as 'she' puts it. But that line between reality and the dream fade, and I'm her now. I'm a black, lesbian woman, who's dating and living with a Latina woman, named Marie. She has this beautiful skin. It looks like dark honey and feels like silk, and I know every inch of her body. Her long, straight hair, it almost reaches her waist, and she's been growing it out for years. She told me so. A whole history between us, and I don't know where it came from, but I love her and I know it. I met her at a local bar. Just by a single glance. A 'save me' glance. I'd never been a 'love at first sight' kinda gal, but I fell in love with her the minute she smiled at me, and twisted away from some 'I bet I can make you like dick' dude. I had come up to monitor the issue as it seemed this beautiful chick was getting harassed. I walked over, straightened my shoulders to give off a more powerful vibe, and threw my arm around her, smiled sweetly at her, and said, "Is this idiot being a douche canoe?" She leaned over, and kissed me abruptly. The men hooted and hollered, then she turned around, grabbed his beer from his hand, and poured it over his fucking head. We both got kicked out of the bar, but I'd never laughed so hard. It was worth it. We spent the rest of the night, chatting in some cheap-ass pizza place, sipping from her 'hidden flask' and sharing a slice of pizza that was basically a quarter of a pizza. She's fucking stunning, she smart, with the sharpest wit I'd ever experienced, and I love her. I love her so much. I'm going to marry her, when the law passes in America, and I know it. She works as an RN at our nearest hospital. She'd moved here for the work (I didn't know nurses had to move to find work? Is that true? I'm still weirded out by this after waking) -- so she meets a bunch of new people, and I'm one of the first she meets just by this bar-experience. I remember everything about her. I remember her name was Marie Anne Juarez. She was disowned by her family when she came out of the closet, and things had been tough for her for a long time. She worked two jobs, and occasionally a part-time gig on top when the other two weren't enough. After she saved up, she put the money into school, rented the tiniest room she could find, and found a better full-time job. Somewhere else with 12-hour shifts, and worked her ass off. She'd felt alone for a long time, but she found her relationships with another tight knit group of LGBTQ through me. When we first met, she was quiet at the beginning of the night-- but sassy as fuck. Once she opened up, I knew those small smirks/grins, and smiles led to sass and funny comments. We were both somewhat sarcastic, and we both giggled over a lot of the same things. When she started her RN career, she worked 16-hours straight, but she never complained (do nurses really work that long?? Like holy shit...). I lived with her later on. I remember her panties. How she liked booty shorts, (my favourites were her black with neon orange elastic) and lace thongs specifically (Easter colors always outside of a handful of black pairs). How pink and this mustard yellow were her favourite colours. They matched her skin tone, nearly black eyes, and dark hair. I remember where the window in our bedroom was. Our queen-sized bed. I remember that she always blow-dried her hair straight even though it was wavy to curly. How much she loved the 'natural' look when it came to make-up except for liner and mascara. Maybe that's a nurse thing. No time for anything else. One night I came home from work, made a quickie stupid dinner because I beat her home, and she didn't show. The police called me, and said she was at X-hospital. God forbid I remember what hospital it was in my dream. I went immediately. They wouldn't let me see her, even though I was her 'emergency contact'. They said, "Only family." And I wasn't 'family'. I was her fucking girlfriend. And even if I was her fianceé, I was female, and oh my gosh, the scandal! Even though her family hadn't talked to her in years -- and no 'family' would be coming to visit -- I had to wait outside. I wasn't allowed to see her. When she finally walked out she was wearing hospital clothing -- they'd taken her clothing as 'evidence'. She told me everything then. In a quiet voice, and without seemingly to stop and breathe -- all at once, and just once, she told me everything. All while avoiding my gaze, and refusing my touch -- I can’t hold her hand, I can’t brush too close, or make direct eye contact with her. She had been walking, in her scrubs to her car to the employee parking lot (all under video surveillance), and was sexually assaulted as she was unlocking her car. He raped her between her car, and the car parked next to her. When she tried to resist, he strangled her, and smashed and dragged her face across the concrete. She had bruises around her neck, stitches along her brow and side of her cheek, and butterfly tape across her nose. She told me what happened, and after that -- she refused to speak of it again. She told me that she just needed time. She was given 'leave' from the hospital for 'health reasons' and she stared at the wall or muted television most of the time. I never questioned her, but I begged her to talk to me sometimes. After awhile, when she let me, I held her. I spooned her, and she didn't flinch from my touch; she just clutched me tighter. Enough to leave half-moon marks in the tops of my hand from her nails. And sobbed occasionally. She dry-heaved occasionally, or went on benders trying to clean everything. Anything to dismiss the memory, I suppose.

I would have to stop her at 3AM from doing the dishes. Clutching her to me, and dragging her into my lap to get her to stop, and she would get angry and burst out crying. Or sometimes she just hiccupped and stared at nothing. Sometimes she struggled to get away so she could keep cleaning. I kept us afloat. I knew she was going through bad shit. I was there. I saw it first hand. Tucked in bed with her, fully clothed -- this wasn't the time to ask questions. Just be there for her, and do what I can. I just wanted to glue all the broken pieces back together. I still had to work, and leave her alone all day to keep us afloat, and I hated leaving her. I would text her throughout the day, reminding her how much I loved her. How amazing she was. I came home two months after the assault, and the sink was on. I could hear it through the thin walls of our small house while I was unlocking and pushing open the door of our side entrance. The sink was running full blast, and I was so confused. The sink was overfilling. Did she fall into a depression sleep while doing the dishes? There was water all over the floor. I yelled her name, and stepped forward to turn off the tap but never got to it. Our kitchen was small. A small island of grey/white/black splatters that matched the surrounding counters. But as I stepped in, keeping my sneakers on to avoid the water, I noticed the water had a weird amber/brown rust colour to it the closer to the sink I got. I stepped in further, and saw her. Laying flat. On the ground. She was still in her scrubs even though she hadn’t been to work in months. She said they were comfortable and reminded her of a better time. They were blue. At least... mostly. But the water... the thin layer of water around her was brown. Reddish brown. It was only then, I noticed she was injured. A angry red slice splitting her skin goes from the inside of elbow straight to the palm of her hand. A paring knife was nearby her other hand. The water has collected around her. It must've been hot or warm at one point -- but it's still running now, and absolutely ice cold now, and her lips are a bluish tinge. I pulled myself away from my inner thoughts, scream her name, and fall on my knees in the murky water. My thoughts aren't clear. I shake her -- reach to check for a pulse -- and there's nothing. I can't find a pulse. I see movies all the time where they say to put your fingers, but I can't find it. I scream in her face to wake up. I scream her name. I'm not at all ashamed to say I pimp slapped the hell out of her while screaming, "WAKE UP!" Nothing worked in the first literal ten seconds -- so I ended up calling 9-1-1. No idea how I grabbed, or dialed my cell phone, but it happened. I scream for an ambulance, say someone's dying, and give the address. I shouted her name, leaning over her chest to listen. A rattle, a wheeze.... Anything. I take a breath to try calm myself so I can hear over the sound of my blood rushing in my ears, and try again. I tie the nearest tea towel around her arm as tight as I can. I tell her she’s not allowed to leave. I tell her I love her. I tell her to wake up. I tell her I won’t let her leave. For some reason the whole experience is as slow as quicksand. Slowly sucking the everything out of you before drowning you. I slap Marie again like she owes me money -- like I'm actually angry and not terrified. Then I straddle her hips and push on her diaphragm, and ribs together. I keep screaming at her, and there's wetness on my face. I think it's either from the floor, or I'm crying. She briefly smiles despite the pain I must be causing her, and even though she tries to open her eyes -- they open sluggishly, and the lower part of her eyes show. White and the dark bluish-grey ring of her dark like night eyes. She mutters, "Love you. Sorry." Then her eyes and lungs close. I have heard the goddamn death rattle, and I've ignored it. The water surrounding us looks like it had been soaking in a bath-bomb made of a brick. I am focused and pressing on her chest, and I hear her exhale with each push, but aside from that, I hear nothing except the sink still running that I’ve forgotten to turn off. I have to breathe into her in order to get her chest to inflate. The EMTs come out of nowhere. I am shoved away abruptly -- I am furious, delerious, fighting them -- trying to keep the rhythm of her heart and lungs -- but I am pulled away by two cops after that. It appears 9-1-1 sends cops with the ambulance no matter where they go. I struggle against them, I yell things like, "She's asthmatic! Allergic to cats, cashews, peanuts, but we don't keep that shit in our house!" The cops take me with them to the hospital in the backseat like some bad guy, clothes and hands still drenched and soaked in her blood and the dirty water. I'm not allowed to ride in the ambulance with her. I'm asked so many questions, but I'm not "family". Even though I'm her emergency contact, I can't do anything. The triage nurses insist on me waiting in the waiting room. No one seems to listen to me. They tell me to wait. I'm not allowed in. I'm not 'family’. I wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. When the doctor comes out, his face gives everything away with a gentle shake of his head. I burst into tears, and I start telling him, "No. NO. No, no, no," before he can say anything. I wake up, and I'm crying in my sleep.

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beloved-judged · 5 years

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Little surprises

I dreamed last night of my friends as children, playing in the street with a downed power cable as I tried to talk them out of it. A long hike in the darkness, a chain of living rooms in the wilderness, my phone held high to light the way and avoid poisonous snakes as we vault over couches and spills of cushions. Dinner buffet-style, a marriage proposal that I turn down because, oddly enough, I’m already engaged to his older sister.

I mean, I’m mildly gay, but apparently gayer in my dreams than in ordinary life. There’s just a lot of naked, hot women in my dreams of late, or women I’m in relationships with. I’m not a stranger to desiring women, but usually my dreams are about men.

I’m not quite ready to take it as a sign, but it’s... interesting. I keep having dreams on and off reminding me not to get into a romantic relationship with anyone. I want to tell the spirit that I get the message, but apparently I need to hear it. No romantic relationships yet. Gotcha. Maybe gay relationships somewhere down the road. But nothing now.

Last night spent looking at the work of African artists, realizing that I have made my life colorless for years--a wardrobe of mostly black, gray, and white, with muted earth tones--and that for the first time, I want color. A riot of bright geometric patterns. I want to wear beautiful explosions of color, to be seen and undeniably present.

I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be alive. I want to be alive!

This morning, a quick exchange on Discord with a friend. I’m sitting in front of my computer, sipping my second mug of coffee and wondering when another friend will message me to say good morning.

I don’t know when it happened, but I just realized I’m no longer a misanthrope. I used to tell people that what I wanted out of life was to figure out how to get broadband in a cave so I could wall myself off from the rest of the world, and now I’m actively looking forward to my next conversation, even if it’s about nothing in particular. I actually like that my days have been filled, of late, with people who need to talk, or need advice, or just want to check-in.

I like helping. I like providing support. I enjoy being a confidant and feeling helpful.

I went through a long period where I generally wouldn’t have pissed on someone who was on fire unless I knew them, and I find that people are routinely flowing into my life who need something that I find the surprising capacity to give them (as long as I get out of the way, because it’s never really about me.)

And now: life. Color. Brilliance. Social interactions. I wake up not unhappy. Not cringing any more than a bright light in the eye will do to you immediately on waking. I wake up wanting to do things, not sit quietly in the dark as if I was evading a hunter. I wake up and feel myself, a whole and completeness. A quiet pocket of calm happiness. It isn’t the spangled sharp mirror of joy. It’s the radiant inner warmth of a wood burning stove as snow falls outside the door.

I feel... unstained. Lit from within. And eager to be on with another challenge, another test on the path.

#vodou #lwa #joy

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fruitful-blogger · 6 years

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Flipping the Script

Check it out on AO3!

Part Two!

High School is hard enough for a goth kid, but Roman wasn’t one to let it get him down. After all, he had some great friends, including the smartest kid in the school, Patton, the star of the men’s Tennis team and teen heartthrob, Logan, and the most popular prep and student council member, Virgil, at his side.

A High School AU with a twist – based on a Discord Conversation.

Roman Prince was looking over his chipped nail polish with a frown. He had wanted to repaint them the night before, but he had been out of his preferred nail polish for the day – the silver and black combo that would have really brought out today’s outfit. His black and red hair was ever messy as a black leather jacket hung around his arms and shoulders, underneath a black t-shirt with spider-web design across the fabric. His ripped jeans were always on point, and his black convers were polished, if a bit distracting with the blood red shoe laces. His black and red back pack hung over his back as his headphones strung up through his pocket of his jacket to his ears, though he’d muted the music (he didn’t want to talk to anyone, really). While his nails were messy, his eye make-up was always on point, dark wings accentuating his eyes and a thin palour of lipstick to bring out his natural red tones.

Even though he was a goth, a Prince has got to slay – as a dark prince, he thought double of that.

Roman frowned at his cuticle again as he contemplated ditching first period to go to the drug store and get another bottle of his nail polish. It was only the first day, after all, and it was going to be boring anyway…

“I see that look on your face, Princey, and whatever you are thinking, don’t.” Roman snapped up as he looked to the person who had addressed him. The boy before him was dressed like he’d walked out of a fashion magazine – crisp dark jeans nicely ironed, paired with a wine colored polo and purple-tinted suit jacket, all pulled together with his black and purple back pack and his loafers. His hair was messy in a way that seemed effortless even though he’d probably taken an hour this morning to perfect it.

Most people would think that drama goth Roman Prince and Student Council Treasurer Virgil Smythe would NEVER, in a million years, interact – and they would have been right freshman year. The two boys had butted heads so many times that year, as the goth vs preps went, but all it took was the spring play of Aladdin to make them friends. Now that they were Juniors, Virgil was easily one of Roman’s best friends, and the prep would say the same of the goth.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Peter Prep.” Roman grinned as he pulled out his headphones. “I was just contemplating how BORING the first day would be and…”

“And you can’t skip.” Virgil pointed as he nodded his head. The two began to walk around the school. It was still early in the day, and there were a few students there early with the teachers. Roman really hadn’t any reason to be there, but Virgil had just gotten out of a meeting with the other class reps. “So, the reps are talking already about the themes for Homecoming. It was a long-ass debate even though we aren’t voting on anything for a few weeks. And, man, the freshmen? Those adorable mofos have no idea.”

Roman snorted in response as they rounded the school wall. A faint “THWAP THWAP” was heard now as they approached their destination. “Honestly, those fuckers have no idea. I mean, fuck, remember freshman year? You thought you were the shit.”

“Oh like you’re one to talk, Prince.”

“Careful, Prepington the third, sounds like you’re jelly.” Roman gestured to all of himself. “Although, anyone would love to be me.”

“SUUUURREEE.” Virgil smirked. “So what WERE you planning?”

“Nail polish run.” Roman noted as Virgil lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

“Sorry, I just half expected you to try something like last year.”

“In my defense, this school needs more blacks and reds. It’s so… pastel.” The goth made a face. “ SO overdone. You should put that into the bureaucratic mess we call a student council. More darks, more individuality!”

“Yes, because we need more anarchy.”

“Exactly!”

“Hello!” A third voice cut in.

Virgil and Roman looked up as they reached the small set of bleachers. At one of the top rows, surrounded by several books, was their resident genius and all around nerd, Patton Thompson. Patton had his usual light blue polo on with his pressed pants and simple shoes, a cardigan and matching tie with his outfit to pull the whole nerd look together. The goth and prep jogged up to meet him on the bench. Sure enough, he had a textbook on his lap, AP Biology, and he was already half way through it.

“Hey Pat.” Roman greeted as he added a hug, the smaller nerd returning it even as he scrambled to get his books. “Uhg, what are you doing studying? It’s the first day!”

“But it’s so INTERESTING!” Patton threw as he clutched a book to his chest. “We’re going to be learning about CRISPR soon enough, which would allow us to theoretically hack the human genome and eliminate disease! It does so by using the DNA’s own infrastructure to turn off genes that could potentially be harmful to humans, though there are fears of it causing more harm than good because it can accidentally delete more than just a single base pair.” The boy grinned. “But we won’t get too into that until Christmas.”

“Patton, I was about to have a heart attack.” Virgil sighed as he sat on the bench next to Patton, butting shoulders with the blue boy. “I only read chapter one like Dr. Spencer wanted us to. You had me thinking we were gonna have a test on this tomorrow.”

The nerd smiled back as Roman sat to the other side of Virgil, the opposite of Patton having a pile of books stacked there. “Sorry, you know how I am.”

“And we love you for it.” Roman returned. “Especially because I suck at science and you are my saving grace.”

Patton giggled as Virgil used their height to look out. They were stationed on the bleachers near their school’s tennis courts. While it was technically girls’ season, they weren’t to have practice until after school. Instead, the tennis storage unit was open and in the first court was a male figure, rushing back and forth as a ball dispenser sent out dozens of balls at him. The figure was a blur of navy blue, white, and silver – the school’s colors on a uniform, no doubt – as he expertly returned every shot.

“How long has Roger Feder-Nerd been out here, Smart Cookie?” Roman asked to Patton.

The nerd shrugged. “Logan’s been here longer then I have. I came early to go to the library, and he was already here when I pulled up.”

“Jeez.” Virgil sighed as he stood, cupping his hands to his face. “LOGAN CROFTER PLEASE GET OFF THE COURT!”

The figure paused, looking in their direction even as he deflected a ball. It somehow still went over, though it was no winning shot. “WHEN DID YOU GUYS GET HERE?” He yelled back as he deflected another ball. “WHAT TIME IS IT?”

“TIME TO GET CLEANED UP, LO!” Roman added.

The ball machine seemed to agree as it finally ran out of balls. Logan was sweating but easily jogged around the net to turn it off. Off to the side, a few girls oogled at the school’s star athlete. Logan stopped by his bag to throw his sports glasses in, instead replacing them with a simple wire pair. He dabbed his face with his shirt, causing the females to swoon at his abs.

Roman bit his lips, wanting to badly to tell them off, especially since they had no chance.

Roman and Patton were the only two in the school to now that Logan and Virgil were gay. While the latter two were more out about their sexualities – Roman would fight the man however he could, and Patton had, logically, figured that it was just a part of their brain chemistry and therefore was not a big deal. They didn’t shout it from the rooftops, but, if someone asked, they’d be honest.

Virgil and Logan, on the other hand, had a harder time with it. Logan being the star athlete weighed on him, there being a certain expectation for them. While he himself had figured out his sexuality back in middle school, he hadn’t felt comfortable with anyone to tell them. It was only after freshman year when he’d become part of the group that he came out to them on accident. With an accidental pun (Logan HATED puns, but Patton had lost it).

Virgil was another story. He’d let them know that, at the surface level, his parents were at least a bit homophobic, weather they acknowledged their homophobia or not. It also didn’t help that he was raised in, well, a more upper middle class society, so everyone tended to be more on the conservative side of things. While he knew his parents loved him, he was scared shitless to ever tell them or anyone else. He’d had a break down about it one day, when it was just him and Patton, and he’d finally told someone that he had never felt that way for a girl but he probably had a crush on a guy in their grade. Patton, Roman, and Logan were all supportive of him, though, and he came to them when his internal anxiety just got to be too much.

While the kid seemed mostly together with a pretty ideal life, he was still a ball of anxiety under the surface. He was thankful, though, that he had friends like these to help him out.

Virgil, in fact, was already up and jogging down to the court. He grabbed a second basket that stood nearby and began to help Logan clean, the two chatting. Virgil, like Logan, had grown up playing tennis, but the purple-wearing boy was on the JV team as opposed to varsity. The two had, however, become friends because of tennis and were the only freshman boys on JV all those years back (Logan, had, of course, been bumped to varsity sophomore year).

Roman leaned back in his seat as he heard Patton’s many pens scratch the paper (his notes had a whole color coding system that Roman couldn’t hope to learn). More cars began to pull into the parking lot as the goth took in the day. It was chilly but sunny, and, while he loved his dark room and ambient light, he could appreciate sweater weather.

“Are you two to join us?” Roman cracked an eye as Virgil and Logan approached, Logan with his tennis bag and back pack. Logan had spoken.

“Give me a sec, kiddos!” Patton called as he scrambled to get his books into his backpack. He had so many, though, that there was no way the boy was getting them all into one bag.

Roman stood, cracking his back as he grabbed both his and the abandoned purple bag left by Virgil. “Need help, Padre?”

“Nah, I got it!” The small boy added as he huffed a few books into his arms. “I’ll drop a few at my locker while Lo gets cleaned up.”

“Indeed, I should make my way to the changing room before class.” Logan added as he overheard. The two boys skipped down the steps before all four headed to the school. “Although I need to see the physical therapist again. My wrist is feeling odd the last week.” He noted as he played with his right wrist. “My serve is off by a few degrees.”

“Well, from what I saw, you sure were SERVING up some ACE shots!” Patton giggled as Logan tried to hide a smirk.

“Why am I friends with you?”

“Because you love me?”

“Debatable.”

“Because I make cookies for the tennis bake sale?”

“Ah, yes, there it is.” Logan and Patton shared a snigger at the comment.

Virgil snatched his backpack from Roman as the two followed. “So, a little birdie told me that someone MIGHT try out for the hero this semester…” Virgil grinned to Roman. “What, done playing the villains?”

Roman loved the stage, but he almost always tried out for the villain. He thought they were constantly underrated and pegged as evil when, in retrospect, they would be more morally grey characters. “Well… depends on if the play I want comes to fruition! You see, I think I can convince Larry to let us do Nightmare Before Christmas, and you KNOW I know all the Jack Skellington parts.”

Virgil belted out a laugh. “Really? Because I thought you were just reading off cue cards every time I came over for movie night.”

“Blah blah blah that’s all I hear from you.” He threw with a wave of his hand. The two were left bickering all the way into the school.

It was just the beginning of another year at North Hamilton High.

#Sanders Sides #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Logan Sanders #Patton Sanders #Flipped Script AU #High School AU #Role Swap AU #Human AU #Discord Chat

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purplesurveys · 5 years

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440

Looks and Personality

What do you look like? I tick all the marks of a Filipina - kinda tiny, black eyes, morena, flat nose. I’m on the slender side, have thick, wavy hair that gets frizzy when it’s hot, and huge thighs when I sit down.

How often do you bathe? I don’t really have a constant schedule. I take a bath everyday when I have school; I could take a bath everyday especially during summer; but I can also opt to do it every other day when I feel lazy/when it’s colder.

How do you wear your hair? Down, low ponytail, high ponytail, or in a bun depending on what I’m wearing.

What colours do you tend to wear? Black, white, and any muted shade. I have very little color in my wardrobe.

Do you have any tattoos? What, where and why? Nope. I had always wanted to have a ton until I realized I was scared of needles.

What kind of clothes do you wear? My style is a mix of classy and trendy, so I’ll wear little black dresses with flats but I can also sometimes wear a simple top with culottes or long dresses paired with sneakers. Idk, depends on my mood for the day really.

What kind of jewelery do you wear? I’ve stopped wearing jewelry. The two necklaces Gab got me already broke and I haven’t had them replaced with any new ones. Not a fan of rings and I don’t really have bracelets.

Is there anything else you often wear? I’m not too picky with what I put on. My must-have is just a black hairtie on my wrist.

Would you say you had a “look”? Yeah I think so. I’ve molded my style to make it akin to Audrey Hepburn’s, who’s like my biggest idol eveeeeerrrrrrrrr.

When going out, do you dress up or down? Depends on what period of the sem I’m in. I’ll definitely dress up at the start because I want to look good in front of new profs and classmates lmao. But by the end of the sem when all the deadlines are piling up, I’ll go to class in the same shorts I wear at home, a hoodie with nothing inside, and NOT CARE.

What do you wear to bed at home? The thinnest clothes I could find, because it gets really hot. Tank top and shorts will do, but sometimes I’d opt for a tank top and just underwear.

What do you wear to bed when you’re somewhere else? I cover up of course. I’d switch up the tank for a t-shirt, but still keep the shorts.

Is there a place you keep any prized/secret things whilst you’re away? No. That place is my room already.

What’s your favourite food? Either pizza, curry, or sushi. I’m a sucker for all variations of the three.

What’s your favourite drink? Iced caramel macchiato is always so refreshing. OH and I FINALLY recently found out how I like my coffee! Hshssksh Kate poured me a cup of coffee last week and her mix was SO good omg it was 2 packets of cream, 1 packet of sugar, and it can take or leave milk. I’m so excited about this because I never learned how to make coffee that wasn’t just the instant one that does all the work for me. Now I finally feel like a grown-up hahahahaha

What’s your favourite dessert? Chewy chocolate chip cookies, macarons, cheesecake, and souffles.

What’s your favourite type of food (e.g Mexican)? Indian and Korean. Japanese is a runner-up.

Do you have any mental problems? Yes. I don’t have the time, the money, and the courage to get myself checked and so I just try to get by and get better everyday.

Do you have any phobias? What? Why do you think you have this/them? Cockroaches, needles, and roller coasters. Cockroaches are fucking ugly and we had a lot of them (flying ones!) in our old house; needles are sharp and they hurt; and as for the last one, I generally get bad motion sickness but the whole phobia thing got worse when I had a particularly bad experience on a roller coaster in Singapore.

Why might somebody dislike you? I’m super nice but I’m not denying that I can snap whether it’s warranted or not. I come off a little strongly and it might rub people off the wrong way.

What skill do you possess that you are most proud of? Seeing things through. Like if I want something to work, I do it and I make it work. I hate failure and I like looking like I get a lot of work done.

What is your greatest strength (e.g. honest, loyal, brave)? Loyalty.

What’s your greatest shortcoming or flaw (e.g. cowardly, alcoholic)? My competitiveness can make me a coward. Like I will back out of things as soon as I can detect that I can possibly lose or fail.

Who do you most admire? I don’t really admire anyone.

Who do you most love? Animals.

What three things do you look for most in a partner? I don’t like boxing people into just three standards...I do take a liking to people who kind of stand out from the rest, are intelligent, and have the same stances as I do.

Do you like crowds? Depends on the type. I only like crowds I’m comfortable with, like a concert crowd.

What are your hobbies? Trying out new food.

If you can’t get to sleep in the middle of the night, what do you do? I’ll watch YouTube videos or scroll through Reddit. Knocks me out instantly.

What is your favourite animal? Dogs, cows, elephants, or pigs. Can’t really choose.

What is your favourite colour? Pink.

If you could ask God (to athiests - IF there was one) one question, what? Why’d they make the universe? What’s all of this for? Cheated for using two questions, but whatever.

Background

Where were you born and raised? I was born in Manila and raised in a city a little east of Manila.

Briefly describe your family. We’re five in the immediate family - my mom and dad have been married for 22 years and I have a younger sister and brother. I don’t talk to my brother anymore after an incident a few months ago; my sister and I are generally close. I have three grandparents that are still alive, but I’m generally closer to my grandma on my mom’s side since she lives nearer. I have 11 cousins but the number just gets so much bigger if you count second- and third-degree ones.

You must choose one - your childhood was calm/peaceful or tragic/turbulent? It was both, honestly. Since I lived with extended family growing up, I had relatives with drinking and violence problems on one side, but also relatives who strove to protect us from them and tried to give us a normal childhood. I can’t really pick one for you, because I experienced both.

Did you have any role models? I looked up to wrestlers from a very early age. Shawn Michaels and Lita were my childhood favorites.

What is the worst thing that has ever happened to you? [Trigger warning: suicide] Attempting suicide multiple times, summer 2017.

How did it affect you? [Trigger warning: suicide] Profoundly. I wouldn’t have met my orgmates if I succeeded, because I only joined my college org after the attempts. At the time I did it, I had no friends in college so looking back on it can feel surreal. I also realized that I am scared of myself knowing that I’m capable of physically getting to that point.

Have you ever had any recurring nightmares or themes in nightmares? When my depression was a lot worse two years ago, I would always get dreams of either me or Gab dying. It was always either of us getting shot.

What were they? ^

Do you currently have a boyfriend/girlfriend? I do.

Do you have any close friends? Yes <3

Briefly describe your best friend: She studies architecture, has a mole on the left side of her face, has a classy sense of style, loves The Maine, has two shihtzus named Hailey and Kennedy (the latter after Kennedy Brock from The Maine), and is one of the most genuine, caring, and smartest people I know.

Any enemies? I don’t think so, unless people have a problem with me that they aren’t telling me.

Who? What are they like?

Would you risk your life for your best friend? (not lover or family member!) For Angela? Easily.

With who was your most important romantic relationship? Gabie.

Of what are you most proud? Going to school in UP.

Of what are you most ashamed? My home life. I’m an open book except for this aspect.

Alignment, Ethics and Religion

What is your religion? None. Atheist.

Where do you stand on abortion? Pro-choice. Ez.

Where do you stand on the death penalty? I’m against it mostly for the fact that execution is literally the easiest way out. For shitty people who have done shitty things, let them rot in prison until they die. For people who have done shitty things but want to be better, let them be better and give them a second chance.

Where do you stand on wearing fur? HATE IT. Wear faux fucking fur if you’re so adamant on wanting fur on your outfit.

Do you have a moral code that you follow? What? Don’t we all have our own compasses?

Could you kill somebody? If my loved ones are involved, absolutely.

For what reason would you kill somebody? If my loved ones are seriously harmed. For self-defense too.

Would you SERIOUSLY CONSIDER killing anybody right now? No, not right now.

Do you trust easily, or not? I trust in the first place; but I can easily take the trust away if it’s abused.

What are your political beliefs (anarchy, communism, democracy etc.)? I’m a social democrat. < God, I don’t really pay attention to labels lmao but this seems pretty accurate.

What, if anything, WOULD you sacrifice your life for? Gabie and/or her family. Way too important to me.

Would you ever, for any reason, abandon your friends in an hour of need? I don’t think I can.

Motivation

What are your dreams/ambitions/goals? Complete college, find a job that pays well, pay for a house, travel abroad, start a family.

How do you plan to reach them? Work my ass off I guess?

How would your ideal partner look? I already have one.

Do you ever want to have a family someday? With children? Yes. I’ll be crushed if I don’t get one.

Who would you want to start this family with, or do you not yet know? My girlfriend, ideally.

What would stop you from reaching your goals (e.g. death, retirement fund)? I’m very money-oriented, like I would rather earn a lot in an okay job than be in a job I’m super super super passionate about but has a lower pay, so I think anything with inadequate pay will definitely demotivate me.

What do you see yourself doing next year? This time next year I’m already polishing up my thesis. I’ll be graduating in a few weeks, and I would have already come out to my parents.

What do you see yourself doing in twenty years? Having a family and being at that point in life where I’m just accomplished. I’d want to be feeling that way by the time I’m 41.

Would you ever have an affair? NO.

Would you ever have a one night stand? Idk, not really for me.

What are your greatest fears? Being a failure.

More information

If you had a month of nothing (no work, no obligations) what would you do? Provided that money wasn’t an issue, I’d eat out. Always. I’d try out new restaurants and the quirkiest food out there.

How do you relax? Sleep, talk to my friends, watch YouTube videos, and, if I have time, take surveys.

What one thing would you change in this world (free Tibet, abolish Sweden)? Do something about pollution or climate change.

Would you ever choose a career or job where your life was at risk? You mean, a journalist? Hahahahaha hell no. But again, unless the job pays well, then no.

Why? In the case of being a journalist, it’s just not worth it to me...which is sad, because I used to be very passionate about becoming one. But when I realized the horrible reality of taking up such a career, it was very easy to turn away. I’ll always be sorry to my 13 year old self.

How would you like to be remembered after your death? Someone who went out of her way to look out for people, no matter the situation. As simple as that.

Random questions

Where you present at any major historical events (e.g. 9/11)? Nope.

How did they affect you?

Do you have any famous relatives? I have relatives in the local government, plus my maternal grandfather’s clan pretty much owns all of Mindoro Oriental so there’s that. I don’t have celebrity relatives though.

Do you have to try and live up to your family’s expectations? Of course.

Are you a loyal member of any organizations? Just the one I applied for in my university haha.

General Information

Name: Robyn.

Age: 21.

Date Of Birth: April 21st.

Race: Brown.

Height: 5′2″

Weight: Uh like 90 something lbs. Idk, it always fluctuates around the 90s.

Are you happy with this? I could gain more weight honestly. I’m a little underweight, and clothes I wanna wear sometimes don’t fit or suit me for being too thin.

Desired weight: A little over 100 would be healthier for me I think.

Sexual orientation: I don’t fucking know anymore lmao. I can be bisexual one day, pansexual the next, and demisexual the next. I don’t really answer when I’m asked this.

First language: Filipino. Second/Third/Fourth etc. languages (if any): English.

Why did you take this survey? I haven’t taken a survey in such a long time because I was swamped with work. Tonight is the first time in two weeks I had enough time to squeeze in a survey.

#survey #surveys

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thetragictoy · 6 years

Text

Opnemer and the Recorder of Memories

Okay, so I’ve got this beautiful idea for a book that I’ve been working on for over two years now and I just wrote out character descriptions for all of my lovely characters! If anyone can help find some inspo or would like to sketch up, collage—whatever you’d like to contribute to my babies would be incredibly helpful! I already have the first chapter pretty solidified, but it’s subject to change (if anyone would like to read it and I see enough interest, I’ll gladly post chapter one!). But, without further adieu, here are (most of) my main babies!

Opnemer- Adorable little fairy of a girl, Op is full of optimism and love. Medium length brown hair, big brown eyes, tanned skin, a relatively straight nose (not big but also not sloped, just kinda straight), and rather average in stature—about 5’6”. When she’s having a heated conversation with Desmond or simply interested, her ideal hairstyle is the quick and messy bun (to keep hair out of her face). When she’s in Desmond’s dreams, she loves wearing white and she loves retro dresses that are simple in style, but fun to twirl in. She also loves wearing and seeing bright colors in the dreamscape.

Sonata- A very sweet and gentle spirit, Nata has a strong urge to protect those that he loves. Light brown hair, hazel green eyes, wears glasses (rectangular frames?), lightly tanned skin—lighter than Op, around 6’2”. If Nata didn’t have to wear the same deep eggplant purple everyday, he’d be an absolute t-shirt and jeans kinda guy with fun looking Chuck Taylors. He’s the funny—sometimes awkward—guy who cares immensely about Op. Just imagine he’s the guy nervous laughing as he scratches the back of his head 😂

Desmond- A growing teenage boy with a ton of personality, Des is wise and humble. Dark, curly brown hair, brown eyes, (he’s my lil Mexican boy), very insanely tan (he likes being outside), and currently I see him about 16 at 6’0”. He’s super casual in what he wears, but likes his little touch of style in each outfit. (He likes to look like he’s not trying while actually trying most of the time 😂) His classic look is a printed short sleeve button downs, jeans, and some sweet lace up leather boots. He usually wears his lapis lazuli that his mother gave him until he and Op exchanged necklaces (but they wear them as bracelets) and he never takes hers off (I’ve written this particular scene into existence already, so it’s canon!).

Ruby- A wonderfully artsy gal, Ruby challenges herself almost constantly. Long brown hair, green green eyes, darker skin tone (something close to Des), and about 5’2”. She loves painting, sketching, writing poetry, and doing ceramics. She loves getting into the action and could care less if her hands get dirty. She has quite the retro bohemian style and loves loose, airy organic clothing that doesn’t weigh her down. She loves to layer pieces to make her look like a low key bohemian princess. She loves colors, but typically wears more muted or neutral tones to keep from clashing with the loud colors of her art. She’s a very simple girl who’s headstrong and wildly independent. She’s usually the girl telling her friends exactly what they need to hear to help them achieve what it is that they want.

Sahwira- Incredibly intelligent and doesn’t often say much. Gold-blonde hair, piercing blue-grey eyes, ridiculously sharp jawline & cheekbones, around 6’0”. He’s a pale boy who would avoid being outdoors if the Recorders had an outdoors. He comes off as intimidating because he’s taller than Op, especially when he’s close to her. He’s almost always caught scowling and doesn’t smile often (if ever really). He’s a no nonsense man and is one of the oldest Recorders that’s lived (but because they don’t age, he’d really be quite attractive if he smiled). He secretly cares about Op and when she talks to him for the first time, it’s like all the hardness of his features melts away and she just sees a softness in him that she didn’t think could exist (because when he’s not scowling, he has some rather sad but sweet eyes). Sahwira really quite likes the dark colors they wear, but he would definitely be the office type who wears slacks, button down shirts, dress shoes, and a ridiculously expensive watch. If he didn’t care what people thought of him, he would 100% wear dad hats, jeans, t-shirts, and Vans.

Edeko- Sophisticated and sweet, Eddy is a whirlwind of quiet energy and support. Curly curly brown hair, amber brown eyes, mulatto skin, a splash of freckles on her face, around 5’8”. While she’s incredibly sassy when she’s with Sahwira (whom she has nicknamed Wira), she’s got a whole stock of wisdom for younger Recorders. She’s helped Nau emotionally through some of the hard times, but she also knows how to be straight with someone when they need to hear the truth. If she didn’t have to wear deep eggplant all the time, she’d easily be a girl who loves high waisted jeans, crop tops, and high tops. To get cozy, you’d 100% find her in a huge oversized sweater that’s off one shoulder, some flannel pj shorts and fuzzy slippers.

Nauhuri- Bubbly and fully of life, Nau is an absolute sweetheart who has a rather tragic past. Platinum blonde hair in a pixie cut, brilliant electric blue eyes, a sea of studs on her left ear and a cuff and chain on her right, full lips, adorable button nose, and milky skin. She’s had it rough but she knows just how to keep on trekking. Without the set eggplant purple clothes Nau would have an adorable sense of style. Crop tops, pleated skirts, chokers, and Doc Martins would be her go to. She would also easily be spotted in a t-shirt, leggings, and tennis shoes on a comfy day.

Musajjil- A seriously chill dude with a heart of gold. Dark black hair that is likely to be pulled back into the messy man bun, dark brown eyes, a pretty big schnoz, caramel skin, about 5’8”. Musajjil adores Nau and always has her back. He loves her fighting spirit and her ability to stay positive while also adapting to her situation. Musa sounds like a total surfer dude and is extremely go with the flow. He’s easily approachable and loves conversation. If he wasn’t stuck in eggplant purple, you better believe he’d be in cargo shorts, t-shirts or muscle tanks, flip-flops, and wearing a necklace made of sea glass and pukka shells.

Taifeadta- A hopeless romantic who tries to be a ladies man, but inevitably fails. Short but stylish dirty blonde hair, deep green eyes, some scruff on his face, around 5’10”. I like to imagine him with glasses, but I guess he could go with or without. Tai is my sweet sweet boy who has tons of personality and loves flirting (or trying to anyways). He’s incredibly attracted to Eddy—mostly because she’s so sophisticated and well versed with everything in their world. He does eventually fall for another Recorder (Kina) and she makes him nervous and it’s adorable because there’s lots of blushing and speechlessness (and Tai is never speechless). His ideal outfits would be some nice jeans, t-shirts and hoodies, and skate highs.

Kinasa- Shy and gentle, she’s a calming presence to anyone in the room. Long black hair, almond shaped eyes blacker than night, flat(ish) but adorable nose, porcelain skin, around 5’2”. Kina always carries a calming aura and is rather shy compared to the other Recorders. She’s intrigued by Tai and loves how his calm and cool nature gets tripped up by her presence and knows that Tai is really very sweet behind his “ladies man” facade. She’d love to wear long simple A-line dresses, corduroy overalls, pastel colors mixed with deep rich tones, and shoes ranging from tennis shoes to creepers.

Gravadora- Cunning and mischievous, she makes up one half of the twins. Long airy black hair, bright green eyes, a dash of freckles, small but cute nose, pale olive skin, around 5’9”. Rava is full of energy so if someone sets her off, she’s quick to her temper. She loves fiercely and she doesn’t know how she’d do this job without her brother Graves. She’d ideally wear something laid back like bootcut jeans, long sleeve shirts and hoodies, and Converse. She’s a simple gal.

Gravador- Daring and witty, he makes up the second half of the twins. Wavy black hair (kinda shaggy), bright green eyes with the longest eyelashes ever (only noticeable when you’re close enough to really look at him), a dash of freckles, small but cute nose, pale olive skin, around 5’9”. While the twins are nearly the spitting image of each other, Graves is a bit softer than his sister. He’s a bit more emotional, but he keeps that to himself although she already knows something’s wrong just by the way he breathes. Graves would love wearing natural or muted tones. He’s a sucker for flannels, jeans, and leather boots.

Death- Snarky and sarcastic, Death loves to pick a fight. Tall and brooding with choppy black hair, amber brown eyes, rather pointed nose and gaunt cheeks, pale skin, well built, around 6’5”. Death can regularly be found in black jeans, black t-shirts, black leather jackets, and black leather boots. He’s sassy and completely uncouth, but that’s how he’d like to portray himself to people. He’s been blamed for everything he’s never done over his lifetime so while he does in fact have a soft side that longs to be understood, he decides to mask that part of him with an air of sarcastic wit.

Fate- Beloved by some, slandered by many, Fate is a war horse. Long strawberry blonde hair that cascades down in loose curls, hazel green eyes that seem to hold the rainbow, adorable pixie nose, lightly tanned skin, around 5’9”. Fate is bitterly misunderstood most of the time. She’s incredibly regal in her wardrobe (much like Time and very much unlike Death) and is always wearing a golden laurel and ivory robes embroidered with golden threads and embellished with pastel shades of pink, green, and lavender. If she ever has time to herself to dress more casually, she’d be in thermal long sleeves and pea coats, nice jeans, and some comfortable booties with at least a 3” heel.

Time- Stern and focused, Time is on a schedule down to the second, so you best not be late. Long white hair and beard (that was once a golden blonde), green eyes and thin rectangular spectacles, a rather bulbous nose, papery white skin, around 6’1”. Time is ridiculously punctual and hates when others miss appointments. While he likes to come off as the cheery old man, he isn’t a force to be reckoned with. He always wears beautiful royal blue robes that sweep the floor. If he ever had a sense of casual wear, it would probably be flannel pj pants, a matching button down, and a night robe and matching night cap.

Claudia- Strong and supportive, she’s a force of nature that knows her boys rely on her. Dark curly brown hair, dark brown eyes, slight crows feet (from all the laughter and joy her boys bring her), full lips, round nose, tanned skin, around 5’3”. After losing her husband, Claudia took it upon herself to raise her three boys. She loves practical clothing that’s simple and comfortable such as jeans, t-shirts, and tennis shoes. She loves a good necklace or two and bracelets like bangles that jingle. She loves prints and every once in a while she’ll throw on a nice bohemian styled shirt with bell sleeves just to watch the movement of the fabric. Claudia’s about 50 at this point in time.

Ellis- Resilient and sure, Desmond’s oldest brother—and sometimes the most bull headed—Ellis is relatively level headed, but he’s also a teenager in adolescence. Wavy light brown hair, hazel green eyes, strong jawline, rather pointed nose, fairer than his mother and other two brothers—he heavily resembles his father, around 6’0”. He’s about 18 at this point in time and believes that he’s in love with a girl he’s only been going out with for a month. He won’t listen to Desmond’s words simply because he’s younger and “doesn’t understand”. He does love his mother and brothers with his whole being, he’s just stubborn at this age. Ellis is big on playing sports but also loves music and playing the ukulele. Loves being comfortable (like his mother) and prefers jeans, simple t-shirts, and Converse.

Finnegan- Incredibly loyal and understanding, Desmond’s younger brother Finny is the quiet pillar of strength that keeps everyone in the house together. Rusty brown hair that’s nearly untamable (always looks like styled bedhead but is actually just real bedhead), light brown eyes, round nose, round pink cheeks, the lucky kid with freckles, around 5’5”. He’s around 12 at this point in time and is already a freshman in high school as he is very diligent with his studies and skipped a grade in elementary. He tutors others in his classes and many of his peers and even upper class men adore him. He’s easy to talk to, highly intelligent and incredibly oblivious to girls and their intentions. He’s practical and calculated but still incredibly sweet. He tries to offer advice, but is sometimes more forward than most others are used to. He loves a good pair of khakis or a nice pressed pair of jeans and loves a good printed shortsleeved button down and loves his Converse. Finny isn’t afraid of hand-me-downs from his brothers, he just likes keeping his crisp and clean style if he has the choice.

#OCs #Book #Idea #Fandom #New Book #Original #Fan Art?#Write #Writing #Inspiration #Characters #Original Characters #Memories #Story #New Story #Novel #Concept #Character Concept

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rescuethewretched · 3 years

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Hey! My names Vidas (he/him) and if you have enough time, I’d love to be apart of the Star Wars matchmaking thing :)

I’m about 5’8 and rather curvy, but also kinda muscular. I have split dried hair (black/white) and I have pretty intense grey eyes. I always look a bit messy but it works for me somehow. I wear a lot of jeans, tshirts, flannels, and sweaters, all in muted colors. I have one earring, a long gold leaf that I always wear with nothing in the other. I wear a few necklaces because they’re crystals that often bring me luck! I’m always wearing platforms so people assume I’m like 5’11. People tell me that I’m really intimidating, but I’m sarcastic and friendly once you get to know me.

I bake a lot ands it’s one of my favorite things to do. My sourdough starters name is Ben (after Obi-Wan) and he’s almost 3 years old! I’m also really into figure drawing (naked people). I’m a bit of an impressionistic artist, and I love to use bold ink and softer charcoal when I draw, it gets messy though. I’m going to be a trauma surgeon one day, or at least work in emergency medicine, it’s a huge passion of mine. I love all things literature, from poetry and world classics to high fantasy and sci-fi, I love it all. I’m a bit of a poet and I’ve been known to write really impressive stuff for my loved ones.

I’m one of those people who remembers the little things people say and do. I always love the surprised look on someone’s face when I ask about something most anyone else would have forgotten. I pay great attention to detail, and often pick up on things much faster than my friends. I need help seeing the bigger picture sometimes, but I do my best not to be closed minded. My main love language is physical touch. I’m normally really tough averse, so when I want to be near/cuddle someone it’s a big deal. I also enjoy gift giving and acts of service. It’s mostly small things like a rock that I thought was super cool or the last in a batch of cookies. I like to pamper my partners, and although we both need to share responsibility for everything, I thrive off making people feel safe and cared for.

I’m looking for someone who will respect my need for space and autonomy. I want someone that will make me feel safe and cared for like I want to do for them. I love listening to people talk about things they love, and talking about things I love so we both need to be pretty good listeners. I’m really bad at social situations so I need someone who will help me feel ok in public spaces.

I experience sensory overloads and panic attacks, as well as having OCD so I need someone who can adapt to my special needs.

Also, can I have a male character please?

Thank you so munch for sing this I’m super excited!!! :D

hi vidas!!! thanks for your submission!! your star wars match is …. luke skywalker!

* oh man, you and luke!!! I think you would be a great fit for him, and vice versa. you can help build eachother up.

* this man cannot take care of himself; rather, he CAN, but often doesn’t. luke can get lost in thought, perhaps beset by his past with his father, the intimidating task of starting a jedi school … he could forget to eat and take care of himself. with your love language and your nature, I feel like you can definitely help luke see that he and his body deserve kindness and good things. he is not his father!!

* LIKEWISE, I think luke would be the perfect partner for you!!!

* if you need space? perfect! he can go out in some field and meditate! building a jedi academy leaves him with a lot to do.

* especially post-ROTJ luke, he would be an understanding, patient, and caring partner for you and your needs. if you ask for his help, he could help you meditate and center your thoughts. his handling of the force totally comes in handy here! the man exudes calm. luke would show his love for you by giving you gentle touches, too!

* overall, I think you and luke would be a great match because you can build eachother up and show your love for eachother through acts of service!! plus y’all would be such a power couple !!! mr. chanel boots himself!

SUBMISSIONS ARE CLOSED

#manofworm #answered #sarah’s follower celebration

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jsalim-art · 6 years

Text

*RE-EDITED 09/07/18* Chapter 1 Part B: Crossed Paths | Wist’s POV

Edited 2 of 3

CH 1 PT A < https://jsalim-art.tumblr.com/post/175720016257/re-edited-090718-awakening-the-city-of-hope

https://jsalim-art.tumblr.com/post/175721122847/re-edited-090718-chapter-2-part-a-old-wounds > CH 2 PT A

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Wist's own heart fluttered as she dashed to the command center, and it was not exactly a feeling of anxiety she felt, but mostly excitement. Being called over by the Captain can be a good or bad thing, and according to the Captain's second in command informed her on the summoning it sounded like the former, she has not much to worry but make sure she gets there fast. After all, her left eye hidden behind an old white sash wrapped around her head is itching instead of that dull spasm of pain that indicate of bad vibes. She was slightly frazzled as her wavy blue black hair is in disarray when she reached the command center a bit out of breath. On the entrance stood two Watcher guards before her a bit concerned for her when they saw her arrive out of breath.

She assured the guards she is fine and greeted them with the Watcher salute, by tapping her fists together, unclenching her left hand and tapped the area where her heart is and her right hand goes down fists still clenched and did a brief bow. The two guards did that in turn and gestured her in. Upon entering the command center, it is alive with activity going on, people rushing around amongst themselves.

Wist can sense the rush of emotions everyone has and years ago it would have overwhelmed her. Now she can endure enough emotional noise that she can mute out all these variety of feelings everyone gives off. She saw that the room is set in organized chaos, however her sight is set on the end of the room where a huge interactive map hang of Spero'lu on the wall, a woman looking over the interface her back turned away from Wist, very focused on what she is looking at instead of the noise behind her.

From her view, Wist saw that the woman has blood red hair on a bun, she also happened to have a pair of slender ears poking out of her head and a tail the same color as her hair with a silver tail ring. These certain traits are indicators to Wist that the woman is a Kahunore and would have been human if it were not for those features. The Kahunore woman did not respond when Wist got near enough that she could tap her on the shoulder but instead cleared her voice.

"Captain Scarlet?" Wist blurted out as clear enough, because of the noise in the background making sure she is loud enough for the Kahunore woman to hear.

Scarlet's ears twitch at the sound of Wist's voice, prompting her to face the girl. Wist is met with a woman in her twenties wearing a brown-red leather jacket, black pants and an old pair of dark brown combat boots. She has two slashes for what appears to be scars under her left eye that is seemingly painted on red, pale lightly freckled skin, golden eyes that looked like they've seen a lot in her young life but have a sparkle of kindness to them and her lips a thin line expressing a stern expression. Wist did her salute, Scarlet's expression turned from cold to warm upon seeing the girl.

"Ah Wisteria Sanchez just the cadet I need to talk with" Scarlet said.

She gestured Wist to come closer, she put her hand on the girl's shoulder and showed her the map, something that Wist never got to ever see close up until now. It is like any map she has seen of the city only it is made in such a way that Wist assumed is probably enchanted to have certain blinking lights to represent a person.

"Its been a while since we last chat, has my mother been training you well?" Captain Scarlet asked

"Yes, Miss Rosalyn said I'm improving my skills and my control on my empath powers are getting better everyday." Wist said.

"That's good, mother was just telling me the other day about your improvement, that's why I got you called over."

"What am I being called over for?"

"I'll be honest, I have my doubts at first since it has been years since you were in a serious mission and you were young back then, and mother and myself have come to the agreement you may be ready to get back."

Wist looked at her captain with confusion. "Are you sure? You think I'm ready?"

"I'm sure Wisteria, what better way to know you are ready than taking on a simple recon mission?"

Her captain's intentions felt genuine about her proposition but Wist sensed a hint of concern which she knows comes with the territory of the risks of doing missions. But that emotion faded off before Wist could read more into it. "So where am I going?" Wist asked.

Captain Scarlet pointed at an area on the map for Wist to see it's around where the border between the slums and the Brotherhood territory meet.

"You want me to go there?" Wist gasped realizing where it is.

"Obviously not on your own I can't let you off on your first mission in years. Company is better than going solo anyways, so I suggest for this mission you can take Lucas along." Scarlet advised. She pointed again at the map. "This is one of several potential areas where we can possibly cross into Brotherhood territory. I believe it's the one place the Brotherhood won't suspect us going there. I want you two to explore around the area."

"So, we just have to do that?"

"Yep, just go in and out simple as that. Also, if the area is absolutely clear install these" Scarlet explained handing Wist what looked like small knobs from her pocket. "These are scrying tabs put them around the area so that can be added to our surveillance roster."

The very idea of being back in doing missions outside from the vincity from the safe haven that is the Watcher Den excited Wist yet it made her tremble in nervousness. Scarlet noticed the girl's change in mood, she put her hands on the girl's shoulder and looked at her at the face with an encouraging smile.

Outside even a bit further from their safe haven excited Wist yet it made her tremble. Scarlet noticed her change in emotions, she put her hands on the girl's shoulders and looked her in the face.

"I understand that this may be a bit a lot to take in now but if my mother, the former Captain Madder knows you are ready then I also have faith in you as well. We may not be closer to be free from the Warlock but as long as we the Watchers still stand we will not give up, so every small effort counts. Just as long you and Lucas come back alive it does not matter if this mission is a hit or miss. Consider this a test run."

"Thank you, Captain, I- well we will do the best we can." Wist said a warm feeling in her heart. "I too will do the best I can."

"Great! You're dismissed!"

They both saluted each other before they went back to what they are doing. As Wist went to the exit she looked behind her to see the Captain still looking at the map, but next to her saw something that's off a black barely legible mass of a figure. The apparition is seen as a blur to her eye but riddled with holes and red vapor that gave her the impression of blood. Transfixed at the sight she saw the ghost put their "hand" on the Captain's shoulder in a tender manner. She blinked again, the ghost disappeared. This is not the first time she saw it, she has been seeing it for around a year now and this is the closest she has been to it.

The spectre she saw was fresh in her mind, she wondered if her Captain felt its pain and sorrow like she did. She decided for now to put this issue on hold, she has a mission to prepare as she approached the dorms. The dorm rooms are one of many lodgings areas most Watcher members live and rest in. She shares her dorm with ten other members all girls of varying races other than humans as there are at least five bunk beds between them shared. One of her roommates happened to be still lying in a lower bunk in one of the beds.

The girl who was the only one there is an Avifel, a race of humanoid feline people with soft fur mixed in with feathers, short fluffy tails and vestigial wings. This one individual in particular has white fur with a brown pattern "mask" that is an inverted V shape over her face and darker colored ears and blue eyes. She wore a one-piece black leotard like garment that reach over past her knees and elbows, a short sleeved beige midriff shirt over her and her taloned digitigrade feet are wrapped in rags. She was lounging on her bed reading a tattered old book from what Wist can see is on sewing. The Avifel girl looked up from her book when Wist entered.

"Hi Wisht!" the Avifel girl said in a somewhat singsong voice having a slight lisp and to it whenever she pronounces most of her S's. "What did boss lady shay?"

"Hey Vespera." Wist greeted her. "She says that since I did well with the training Miss Rosalyn gave me, I am ready to go on my first mission in years."

"Congratsh!" Vespera said with a chirp that sounded birdlike.

"Thanks but its just a simple recon mission nothing big."

"Shtill thats shomething!"

"I won't be alone though, the Captain said I can bring Lucas with me"

There was a far off dreamy look on Vespera's face. "Oh you're so lucky..."

"What?"

"Nothing!" Vespera voice raised a lot higher than expected as she looked down back at her book for a moment. She peeked out from her book sheepishly. "Well lasht I heard of Lucas he is in the training room jusht sho you know."

While Wist can pick up on most people's emotions, she did not have to rely on it to completely to know Vespera's feelings on Lucas. She stifled the urge to grin and went to pack her things, She was in the middle of organizing her bag which is a medium sized dark brown satchel she tied around her waist like a belt. She was trying to decide how many small throwing knives she should pack when she heard the Avifel shifting around the bed.

"Well I wasch going to give this to you on your birthday but I never finished it on time so conshider this a belated gift that doublesh as shomething to celebrate your first time back in the field."

"Really you didn't have to, I can't accept such a nice gift from you." Said Wist as she is putting some first aid supplies in her bag.

"But I inschist!" Vespera said. "Firsht gifts are nice and second of all I worked hard on this and third you can't wear that dingy rag around your face all the time.

Wist touched the area where her left eye is being covered by the white sash. "Well I've gone on alright for five years with this thing on."

"It'sh old and does not go with that ensemble of yours. This is what you need to complete it." Said Vespera and showed her what she had under the pillows.

It is an eyepatch, it is made from a velvety material and dark lilac in color with a big star with three smaller stars below lovingly embroidered supported by black leather straps. Although Wist won't admit immediately but Vespera is right, the eyepatch went well with her outfit which consisted of a white long-sleeved shirt under a turtlenecked grey shirt with billowy sleeves up to her elbows which are shredded at the hems, dark grey pants passed her knees, black ankle boots and long white socks.

"Wow that's one of your best work yet, thanks!" Wist said in awe of the craftmanship of the eyepatch's simple design.

"You flatter me and you're welcome! Before you go let me have the honorsh to fix your hair, it sheems like you forgot to braid it properly today." Verspera offered.

Wist touched her hair realizing how much in disarray it is, she laughed sheephishly. "So it seems...I must have tied it loosely and I was so excited to be summoned by the Captain I guess I was not aware."

She sat on a stool in front of Vespera's bed while the Avifel girl started doing her work. It did not take long for Vespera to braid her hair loosely making sure the hair tie stays put and replace the sash that Wist around her face with the eyepatch, when done she was handed a cracked hand mirror. She noticed that while the eyepatch does cover her eye it did not conceal the scars that peek out from it, remnants of two slash marks. It used to bother her to see the scars as they are reminders of a memory she can't remember how it happened but seeing them again peeking under her eyepatch don't seem to bother her for some reason. Such simple changes to her hair and new eyepatch she felt different, a little confident actually.

"There, now you look fabulosh!" Vespera said

"Thanks Ves!" Wist said.

Vespera tapped the girl on the shoulders encouragingly. "Now you are set! Let me know what happensch kay? And be safe!"

With the satchel prepared she tied it to her waist and excited her dorms on the way to the training rooms. She did not have long to walk to the training room is not a far walk from the dorms. Within the training room although not as chaotic as the meeting room there are a few people there, some on weights, climbing obstacles, running courses, punching bags and so on. She scanned the area until she saw who she was looking for messy brown-haired wolf boy her age with brown and blue eyes, and unusual dark and light splotches on his skin and his left wolf ear is flopped down compared to his right ear which is up and alert. He is in his training clothes and intent on working on that punching bag.

Wist watched him concentrate on it waiting for him to be done his session. Luckily, she did not have to wait long for the wolf boy to finish as he made the finishing move by slashing up the punching bag which is now spilling out sand.

"Woah Lucas, other people probably needed that to."

He swerved to see Wist who was standing nearby the whole time, he laughed nervously. "Heh heh, you saw that Wist?"

"Yes... I didn't want to break your concentration." Wist said.

"Oh, is that a new eyepatch you got there?"

Wist nodded. "Yes, Vespera made it."

"Oh she did.." His face fell into a goofy grin for a brief second at the mention of the Avifel's name, like her Wist did not need to read more into his emotions as well.

Lucas noticed Wist staring back at him, so he changed his expression to neutral as he possibly can. "So why you are here?"

"Well as you know I have been training under Miss Rosalyn for a while now and apparently she and Captain Scarlet says I am ready to do missions again. The Captain actually approved me on a recon mission, to go with you actually."

"Really?"

"Yes, I feel nervous about it, but at least I won't be on my own. And besides you're not completely busy, are you?"

"I was going to spar with uncle Red but I'm sure he will understand the rain check I will have to give him. Give me a moment kay?"

Lucas did a half-hazard job of patching the hole on the punching bag but it held with a note attached saying it should be fixed and disappeared into the changing rooms. He came back in his usual attire his messy hair in a short ponytail, a headband tied around his forehead, wore a muddied orange shirt, a patched-up leather jacket, baggy cargo pants and short brown boots.

"Come on you can tell me the details of this mission on our way out." Lucas said.

Both made their exit to the training room, but when Wist made the first step out her head started hurting. She doubled over in pain trying to find her balance, her exposed eye glowed yellow.

"Wist? What's wrong?" Lucas said worried when he saw his friend react in such a way. "Wist?"

She did not respond as she did not hear him at all she is too much in pain that she blacked out. When she came to she noticed that although all she can see is pitch blackness, she knows her eyes are not closed. She looked down at her feet and saw a white path before her. Considering she is in an unfamiliar area, a part of her told her to stay put for a while but yet she felt compelled to walk forward.

Wist walked the path, it felt solid beneath her feet and it did not take long to find there is another path crossing hers. Where the paths meet she sees a figure shrouded in a silhouette. Its familiar because this is not the first time she saw this except the pathway crossroads is new to her. In all her visions that figure has always been walking away from her, she always following them now they just stood there as if waiting.

The closer she got to the figure the clearer the person is revealed, but their back is turned away from her. She noticed the figure had slender pointed black animal ears and a tail with a metal ring around it peeking out from under the coat, Wist wondered if this person is the same species as her Captain. The coat they wore is long, dark blue and frayed at the hem the sleeves have dark purple at the ends of the sleeves.

Her heart hard beating she realized maybe this time she gets to see whoever this may be in her vision will full look like. Her steps echoed as she walked closer but the sounds of her footsteps did not seem to rouse the person's attention. She got close enough to reach out and brush against this person's left hand which she noticed is mechanical and tugged at their sleeve.

"Who are you?" she whispered though quiet it echoed around the void as well.

This seem to catch the person's attention and they made to turn to face Wist.

"Wist?" another voice, Lucas's echoed back at her. She can feel herself slipping out of the reality she is in now.

The last thing she saw of what she thought was the person's face was the glint of a metal mask and a purple eye staring back at her. The emotions she felt coming from the stranger is a feeling of loneliness and at a loss she felt like there must be something she must do but she isn't sure how.

"Wist hello are you still in there?" she heard Lucas urging her back into reality. "Your eyes are doing the weird glowy thing again."

"Huh? Am I?" Wist said dazed as if waking up from sleep.

"Are you sure you are able to go out on a recon mission now?"

Although her mind is back where it is supposed to be that memory of the feeling of longing and loneliness lingered around. "I'm very sure I am fine Lucas. This does not happen a lot like it used to. Now let's go, Captain Scarlet is counting on us."

"Alright but if your eye does the thing again and you are getting a headache we will have to go back."

Wist just nodded and they both took the hallway that will lead them to the exit points and just when they are about to leave they bumped into someone.

"Oh funny bumping in to you two here" chuckled a pleasant sounding voice that Wist was told by most of her peers would describe that the owner of the voice is "what angels sound like", which she can hear why but it did not quite get her heart a flutter.

Standing before them stood a kahunore man of similar age to Captain Scarlet, he has a slim muscular build to him. Also, he has tousled wavy light blond hair with light blue tips and ice blue eyes to match on his seemingly well sculpted face another trait most of her peers tell her that they find attractive. He wore a white long sleeved shirt with a dark grey vest, ripped dark grey jeans and dark brown combat boots. Despite wearing clothes that Vespera would say looks quite "plain" Wist has been told that he pulls off that look quite well or it makes him look "sexy". His pointed ears were up and alert and his tail with a brass ring around it swished in curiosity.

"Vice Captain Azure, what brings you here?" Lucas said

"No need to be formal Lucas, it is Jude when I'm not in command at the moment. I'm just planning to work out myself." The Kahunore man said he then turned his attention to Wist. "Oh, Wisteria I heard from Captain Scarlet you got to do your first mission for the first time in years, congrats kid."

"Uh, thanks...Jude" WIst said still not quite used to referring to her vice captain informally.

Although the comment sounded quite genuine to Wist's ears she had a vague inkling that Jude's tone felt condescending but she can't quite tell considering just like her captain, her vice-captain is good at hiding internal emotions.

"Well I don't want to delay your mission, you two better hurry." Jude said with a wink and a thumbs up before he left. "Be careful you lovebirds."

"But we're not dating" Lucas said deadpan albeit a smidge taken aback from Jude's last comment.

But he was gone before he can say anything else. Lucas and Wist just shook their heads laughing at the comment.

"Jude can be such a kidder." WIst said

"Yeah he does, but sometimes he does catch us off guard with such comments." Lucas said.

"Hey, do you think our vice-captain is a bit off?" Wist asked still can't get over that vague feeling about Jude's possible hidden demeanor.

"What makes you say that?"

"..Nevermind lets just go then."

All of the Watcher Burrow is an underground and for them to get out of a certain area they have to take one of several exits in their network of tunnels and rooms. Every exit consists of a designated escape pod for two people to enter which Wist and Lucas entered in one. There are several buttons to press from depending where it is headed. Wist was the one that pressed the up button. This activated a sequence where the pod engulfed them in a shimmer of light, their bodies apparated and found themselves teleported in a dark room with similar buttons. Because Lucas has better night vision he found the door to exit out of the alley and the two were now in the middle of the slum district.

Their surroundings are filled with activity were the slum district residents minding their own business. Whether there are people selling their wares by the sides of the streets they passed, or just walking about, it is a normal evening at the slums. As peaceful as the scene is, Lucas and Wist watched out for red bandanas with the Brotherhood symbol on it. They caught sight of several of those individuals, but they dare not stare for too long. Lucas perked his ears around for anyone coming towards them and Wist used her empathic senses to make sure that there are no feelings of aggression targeted towards them. So far it is just sensations of indifference from passing Brotherhood members.

Wist took comfort that Lucas held onto her hand, just because she felt nervous about being out in the field again. While this is not her first time at all at the surface it's a whole different feeling to be on a mission. She hummed a simple quiet tune mostly loud enough for her and Lucas who joined in. As they went towards where they needed to go activity began to dissipate the nearer they approach their destination and the buildings more damaged. It was just quiet hums until Lucas started to talk, they had not talked this whole time.

"I know it is normal that you sometimes zone out with those visions, but what did you see this time?" Lucas said his voice in a hushed tone.

"Its this person, well it's the guy in the trench coat. Well I feel this person is a guy" Wist said back matching the volume of Lucas's tone.

"Mr. Tall, dark and mysterious." Lucas said rising his eyebrows up and down a cheeky smile on his face. "And possibly handsome?"

Wist rolled her eyes, unclasped her hand from Lucas and lightly punched him on the arm before holding his hand again. Lucas just chuckled a bit in good jest.

"I'm serious Lu. Besides I don't even know what his face looked like he wore a mask and he only had one eye showing through that mask. He has been appearing in my visions for a while now, like a year now."

"Does it bother you?"

"Not that it bothers me, it only just made me curious and in all my visions of him, he was always walking away from me and I could never catch up to him. But this time I did finally caught up with him and he was just standing there and this time I detected something." Wist explained.

"What is it anger? Annoyance?"

"No, its of loneliness or longing. It's strange though I didn't feel like he was a threat to me."

"That is strange. I mean I'm no expert on visions but maybe it means you are closer to meeting him?"

Before they knew it the two have reached where they were assigned to be where the slums and Brotherhood territory meet based on the conditions of the building between the two areas. They looked around a bit seeing if there is anything of suspicion but then both froze on their tracks. Lucas could hear footsteps, smelt a hint of alcohol and Wist sensed what might be hostility they saw two men coming towards from the side by an alleyway, they wore red bandanas with a certain symbol.

With no time to think on it, they broke into a run they can hear the men running after them. Wist heard the sound of glass crashing, she stopped short to see Lucas brought down because of a bottle thrown at him. She changed directions to her friend attempting to get him up.

"Wist! What are you doing? Go!" Lucas said, groaning in pain from the glass that hit him which made a gash on the side of his head.

"I can't leave you behind!" Wist said, struggling to get him up and by this time Lucas fell unconscious.

Her efforts were in vain, she did not pay attention to the fact one of the drunk Brotherhood members grabbed her by the arm.

"Oh lookie here a little miss and her wolfie boyfriend!" said the one who grabbed her.

Her first time on a mission in years and now she is already being held captive by members of the Brotherhood. She struggled but the one who got her arm a strong grip on her.

"What's the matter missy never seen some handsome men around?" The other one said laughing at her struggling.

"No use fighting it, we are just going to see what are in your bag of yours and get that necklace of yours." The first man said slurring his words.

She fought back the tears that are starting to well up on her eye, she wished she had listened to Lucas but she had no regrets trying to help him regardless, but she knows if they found the Watcher pin she keeps stuck at the back of her necklace, she feared she and Lucas will be found out.

"If you cooperate it will be over before you know it."

Wist braced herself using her free hand to cover the pendant as an attempt to bar the man from taking her most precious possession, but she felt a presence of sorts behind the thugs. She detected this mystery person's emotions to be determined and calculated. From a distance she saw a figure in the shadows. She could not see whoever that is but there are tendrils of purple energy emitting from them coming towards them.

In a split second the tendrils grabbed her attacker's companion into the shadows his screams emanating, she heard sounds of a struggle like the person was being beat up then silence. The other man holding her looked behind him realizing what happened to his companion.

"What the f-"

He never got to finish his sentence, he too got grabbed and dragged away the same way. Wist saw how those tendrils like snakes coil themselves around the men who tried to hurt her. She does not know what exactly happened but considering she did not hear the screams of the Brotherhood members anymore she could hope for the best they are knocked out, not killed. Then from the shadows emerged a figure, Wist squinted her eye she can't detect the exact emotions coming from the stranger but she did not feel threatened, but she got her hands on one of her throwing knives in her satchel just in case. She may not be able to sense emotions from the mysterious stranger but the emotions of determination she felt from the tendrils were strangely a projection of a soul.

As the tendrils faded, the figure got closer and Wist got to see who it is and gasped. It's him, the mysterious kahunore with the long coat, the long dark hair and the distinct metal mask, his left eye exposed. There was a certain red bandana around his arm, a Brotherhood member, but yet he saved her. Other than that, he was dressed more colorfully than the usual brotherhood member, had a purple shirt of sorts that is badly stitched on the front, grey pants and short brown boots. There was also a diamond shaped crystal yellow pendant. Everything about him is unusual according to her, she feels that in a way he stands out among the Brotherhood members she had seen so far.

She can't tell what physical emotion is coming from him because of the mask covering his face save for his left eye, but she felt a bit of wariness and concern. The kahunore walked closer and came near enough to lean down and reach if he wanted. She studied his body language and noticed while the rest of him seemed stoic his hands were shaking a little, she wondered what must have been going through his head at this moment.

Wist at first considered using one of her throwing knives at him or as a warning, but she didn't, she noticed his gaze fell from her to the unconscious body of Lucas on the ground. He made a motion with his head looking back and forth between them and with his left hand which Wist noticed is metallic pointing at Lucas. She realized that if this Brotherhood member wanted to hurt her and her friend, he would have by now.

Wist stumbled to Lucas trying to shake him awake to no avail, she heard a clink near her and saw a small bottle with a cork. She picked it up and saw it labeled "smelling salts". Opening the bottle, she raised the bottle to his nose which done the trick.

"Ugh my head!" groaned the wolf boy who grimaced at the smell emanating from the bottle.

"Its alright they are gone." Wist said. "Come on get up!"

Wist helped Lucas up when they are both on their legs, she looked back to thank the strange kahunore. Instead he was walking away his soul like tendril projections carrying the unconscious bodies of the Brotherhood members. Lucas is now her priority, curiosity rising for her mysterious rescuer.

"What just happened" Lucas said who got a look at the stranger walking away as well. "Who is that?"

"What I thought I'd never see" Wist said saying each word carefully making sure she is not imagining what had transpired. "I think our enemy saved our lives."

"Then I must be dreaming." Lucas groaned in pain.

"I wish that was true Lu, the Captain might not believe us..."

She watched him walk away like her visions until the dark swallowed him and their attackers dragged away by the astral projections of his tendrils. Wist wondered if Lucas was right about his interpretation of the recent vision she saw would be of things to come with what has happened..

#Jehan writes the stories #Awakening the City of Hope #Chapter 1 Part B #Wist OC #writing and fiction

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