#Be SILENT Sylvie (ooc)

[leos-regression-cove]

Nothing in the Parenting Books Prepared Me For This

57. It's Alright I Have You

Synopsis: Mobius realizes that he misses being small and decides to give age dreaming another try.

Word count: 3,856

Stand Alone?: 1/3 you might also want context from chapter 30.

Warnings: OOC/Self indulgent, diapers

Notes: We've finally gotten to the chapter that my DNI banner is taken from!

Read it on AO3!

It was a warm morning, and something was tugging at Mobius. 

Not physically. 

No, there was no little burrowing their face into his chest. 

He made sure that these thoughts were his own, and not a little leakage of magic from the hands of Sylvie or Loki.

He sat up, and rubbed his face with his hands, hoping to swish away the creeping thoughts. 

He groaned and realized that these ideas would not go away, not until he acted on them. But maybe there was still time for the concepts to fade? 

He got up, took a shower, and got dressed, choosing a light blue t-shirt, a jacket, and a pair of shorts. Trying to stay quiet while moving through the bedroom, hoping not to rouse Loki, he peeked out the front windows to check that Thor’s cabin was shut and had no smoke in the chimney, and that Sylvie was not approaching the cabin after her hunt. 

As silently and quickly as he could, Mobius grabbed a bottle out of a kitchen cabinet and filled it with tap water, and then rooted through Sylvie and Loki’s collection of pacifiers for one that hadn’t been used recently, washed it off, and slipped back to the nursery. 

He shut the door, and regretted not putting a lock on it as he constantly stared at it, and tried to look through the closed blinds for Sylvie once more as he opened the creaky lid of the toy box. 

Cringing, he tried not to make much noise, but he was looking for something specific; The few further down in the bin that he rarely touched, that admittedly, he had bought more for himself than for either of his littles; The vintage Fisher-Price toys made to look as if they were made in the 1960’s and 70’s, the old fashioned fabric dolls from the late 18th century up to the 1940’s. There were a couple of tin wind-up toys in the bottom of the tub as well, much like the ones Scott and Hope had kept, but those ones were so much more interesting since they weren’t ones that the littles had in their own home. 

In all honesty, the toy box had a sort of endless quality to it, if Mobius had reached his hand in too deep, there was a good chance he may have fallen in, never to be seen again. But he found exactly what he was looking for; scooting down onto his belly, putting the pacifier into his mouth, and playing with a beaded rattling toy. It was such a quiet toy, that he knew it wouldn’t be heard through the walls like maybe the rainbow colored rotary phone or radio might. 

But there was one mistake he made that Loki soon noticed. 

The baby monitor jingled with tiny notes. At first, the sleepy god assumed Mobius was taking care of Sylvie, but as he kept listening, no talking came through the other end. 

“Alright, m’ coming,” he mumbled, assuming that Mobius had simply been called into work early and Sylvie was on her own. 

Mobius quickly sat up as he felt the doorknob turn.

“Are you playing nicely, darling?-” Loki asked, before he could assess what he actually saw. 

Mobius quietly looked away, going bright, bright red as Loki paused.

“My goodness, aren’t you adorable?” Loki asked instead. “Oh and you got all your toys out, huh? Those are very interesting. What does this one do? Can you show me?” 

“Loki, I’m not regressed, it’s alright,” Mobius insisted. “I… I just wanted to play with something for a while.” 

“But Sylvie got to care for you! Why can’t I?” Loki pouted.

“Fine, fine, you can take care of me… BUT: the second you slip I’m back being in charge, got that?” 

Loki snickered, mocking the idea that he’d slip or that Mobius was ever really in charge. “Okay, Mr. big boy.” Loki set the dropped pacifier back into his mouth. “Are you still a little baby like last time?” 

“Um… I don’t know. I don’ think so.” Mobius mumbled with the pacifier in his mouth. 

“Hm, do you have an idea of how old you are?” 

“No- No no, Loki I’m not regress’d. I’m still an adult- it's just… diffent.” 

“Fussy, fussy.” Loki picked him up, a sneaky smile creeping across his face. He looked down at the toys on the floor, lightly touching a couple with his feet. “I think you’re still a little one… probably around my age, hm?” He set Mobius down on the changing table and played with the age dreamer’s hands. “Did you like the nappy Sylvie gave you, or should we try pull-ups?” 

Once again, Mobius went bright red and felt as though he couldn’t speak. 

Loki smiled at him. “Nappy it is, then.” 

He laid Mobius down and pretended that this was such a normal process, which in a way, it was, Mobius just wasn’t used to being on this end of it. 

“You will tell me about any accidents though, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

Loki smiled, what a good boy. “So we’ll have some breakfast, a little more play time, and then we’ll go see Thor, doesn’t that sound lovely?” 

“See Thor? I don’t…” 

“We have our Sunday tea! You know that!” 

“I- can’t you just let me stay here and play on my own?” 

“I don’t think so, unless you want me to take the baby monitor with me so I can listen in. But you really don’t think Thor will mind, do you? He’s used to being around sweet little babies like the ones you take such good care of.” 

The last compliment made Mobius smile as Loki picked him back up. 

“We can even take the stroller over, if you like,”

“It’s like 30 feet!” 

“Oh, but it’ll be so fun! And you know Thor doesn’t have many chairs.” 

“Fine.” Mobius anxiously said as Loki switched out his adult clothes for something littler; a set of one-piece tiger pajamas. 

Although Mobius found the outfit choice odd, he didn’t deny that they were adorable and suited him well. 

Loki set him down with the toys again, before noticing the partially drunk bottle filled with water on the ground. “Oh, sweet child, is this yours?” he asked. 

Mobius grabbed for it instead of answering.

“Maybe we should get you something yummy to drink instead, I remember someone taught me how to make little formula.” 

Mobius couldn’t help but grin, removing the bottle from his mouth and trying to hand it to Loki, but Loki picked him up entirely instead. 

Mobius thought for a moment about saying something, about staring Loki in the face or asking to just walk, to save his dignity, but before he could, Loki set a hand on his back, and pulled him in close so that Mobius was resting his head on Loki’s shoulder. He decided not to speak, but to instead sigh out a deep breath and find comfort in the crook of Loki’s neck, to which Loki responded with a smile and a gently placed, silent kiss, next to Mobius’ ear. 

Loki set the age-dreamer down in the big green highchair and locked him in before Mobius had a moment to protest. 

“You better not make me breakfast,” Mobius crossed his arms and huffed as he said it while refusing to let his feet rest on the step of the highchair. 

“Well it’s either that or a jar of baby food, so you chose.” Loki didn’t even look at him as he said it, but instead grabbed a bowl down. 

Mobius bit his cheek and stayed quietly pouting, knowing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted no matter what he did. “I don’t even need the highchair,” he grumbled, kicking the upper leg of their table as he swung his legs. 

“You're just hungry,” Loki hummed to himself as he chose to make the water immediately warm and the oatmeal instantly set. 

Loki set the bowl and bottle down on the tray so he could check if Mobius would feed himself. But just like last time he was little, Mobius turned his nose up. 

“Oh come on, Mobius. You eat this or a bagel literally every morning. What’s wrong with it?”

Mobius bit his tongue to stop himself from smiling, slightly pleased with the power he could hold in this situation, but the triumph was short lived and Loki finally decided to simply shove it into his mouth, anyway.

Mobius stared at him, slightly horrified after he did it and obviously feeling a little bit violated by the action. 

“That’s what happens to little ones who show me they can’t eat on their own,” Loki told him, showing no empathy.

Mobius swallowed and wiped his mouth on a fleecy sleeve. 

“Should I make the jetski noises like mummy did last time? Would that make it easier?” He tried it out, hardly stopping himself from laughing as Mobius made sure to look very displeased and upset as he took the spoon. 

“I’ll let you try to feed yourself again if you really want,” Loki tried once more, letting Mobius snatch the plastic baby spoon from his fingers and hold it in a fist. 

Loki sat across from him, with his head in his hands, giving Mobius the mushiest, proudest, and goofiest stare of pure love in an absolutely sappy way, until Mobius stopped ignoring it and paused halfway to his mouth. 

“Why’re you lookin’ at me?” he asked, seriously at first, but starting to giggle halfway through. 

“How could I not?” 

Mobius’ mustache was a mess and the white and green dinosaur bib around his neck was absolutely caked in oatmeal. Due to, in no small part, some very minor motor-skill manipulation from Loki, which Mobius definitely noticed, but simply took as an extra challenge.

After breakfast, Loki let Mobius have his abilities back, and brought him back to his toys, setting a pacifier in his mouth after cleaning him up. 

The little one let Loki pet his back and handed him toys, like the receiver to a toy rotary phone or a very old fabric doll. But eventually he paused. 

“Is something wrong, darling?” 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Mobius said as if he was just making a discovery, and tried to pick his next few words carefully. “This isn’t… fun, yknow?”

“That’s the same conclusion you came to last time,” Loki observed.

“I… I guess, but I thought it would be different. I wanted to try this. I felt myself slipping like you do, but like… differently. It’s weird- I…” He was getting frustrated trying to put these ideas into words. He wanted to be small and play, but there was an even stronger mental block, like an impenetrable brick wall, that he just couldn’t break through. 

“Maybe we should try some older kid activities?” 

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll know it when I feel it.”

“I know you will. It just takes some practice, be patient with yourself.” 

Mobius couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t often he got solid and sound advice from any of his Asgardian companions, including Thor. He could also hear Frigga’s words in Loki’s voice, as those phrases were nearly a constant utterance during his early magic learning days. 

“But I can still… be like this, right?” 

“What ever do you mean?” 

Mobius didn’t respond but instead made big eyes at Loki, and grabbed at his temporary caregiver’s shirt. 

“Ah, you want to still be treated like a baby?” Loki asked as he picked the little one up, cuddling him close. 

Mobius nodded bashfully. 

“Okay, well, what sounds fun? Do you want to watch a movie? Maybe we can color or do a puzzle?” 

“Can we do both? Color and movie?” 

“Of course we can,” Loki smiled, rubbing noses with the age dreamer. 

Mobius couldn’t help but grin.

“And what movie should I put on for you?” 

“Um… The Princess Bride is good…I like Pete’s Dragon, too…” 

“You like those puppets you showed us, do they have anything? You said there are lots of those movies.” 

“Oh! Yeah! There are lots of those. I like The Muppets Take Manhattan…. Wait no, actually, I’ve got a better idea-- Can we watch Winnie the Pooh?” 

With two swift movements, much less than it would take any human being, Loki found the 1977 movie, The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh for Mobius and turned it on before giving him a kiss on the cheek, and setting off to find him some toys and activities that may ease him into a regressed or generally smaller state: One of Sylvie’s coloring books about mythical creatures, which Mobius had already colored a few pages in; a few small puzzles and brain teasers, some easier than others; a puzzle book for littles, a pack of crayons, and just in case, he brought a few of the toys Mobius had previously been playing with. 

Mobius sat on the floor, watching his movie as he idly colored in a majestic beast while Loki skimmed his phone and remained rather uninterested. 

Then, the god felt a tug at his shirt. He dropped the phone down onto his chest and looked over at the dreamer. 

“Look! I finished it!” Mobius smiled, holding up his nicely colored piece to Loki. All the lines were neatly minded, and he took a good amount of effort to shade the drawing and make it look pretty. 

“That looks wonderful,” Loki commented. 

“Yeah, it’s a dragon.”

“Are you going to make another? Perhaps you should try to scribble it out this time. Can you hold the crayon in your fist?”

Mobius looked at the next paper in the book and hesitated.

“You can choose a different one, you don’t always need to go in order,” Loki reminded him. 

Eventually, as Loki watched Mobius stress about ruining one of the line art pieces, getting frustrated which gradually turned into a begrudging disinterest, he chose to pick up the little one, taking him from the torso and bringing him up, onto the couch, to rest against Loki’s chest, his back and silver hair being gently pet and caressed. “Would blank paper be better?” Loki ventured to ask. He could feel Mobius melting like putty in the palm of his hands as the age dreamer allowed emotions to overwhelm and overcome him in a way he wouldn’t when big, only just now beginning to calm down and slow his breathing. “There’s no pressure on you. We’re just playing today. Remember that.” 

Mobius nodded as he clawed into Loki’s shirt and set his head right underneath his caregiver’s chin. 

Regardless, Loki conjured a piece of paper and gently tossed it onto the table next to the coloring book. “I brought puzzles out, too, you know.” 

Mobius acknowledged this, but kept himself glued to the god. 

“Clingy and needy today, aren’t we?” Loki mused as he sat up. He tried to lean back and get a view of Mobius’ face. 

Mobius leaned as well, and gave Loki a simper around his pacifier. “A liddle bit.” 

Loki rubbed noses with him and smiled before hugging him close again. 

After plenty of cuddles and attention, the movie came to a close and Loki moved down onto the floor with his little, still holding him close but twisting him around. 

“Are you really sure you’re not a little baby?” Loki asked him, picking up a nearby toy and setting it in Mobius’ hands, letting the little one turn it over sleepily as he checked the little’s diaper. 

Mobius flinched at the feeling and whined, dropping the toy. 

“You’re okay, all dry. You know that’s what Sylvie and I deal with quite a bit.”

The little stared at him, seemingly shocked at having these dots connected, but Loki had already moved on. 

“I was going to suggest that we make another drawing together… But maybe we should get you down for a nap.” 

“I don’t need naps!” 

“Because it’s all pretend?” Loki scrunched up his nose mockingly. 

Mobius nodded very seriously. 

“Oh you’re so silly.” Loki tickled him as he said it. 

Mobius giggled and squealed in a childish way as he tried to escape from his caretaker’s grasp, but finally grabbed a crayon and handed it to Loki. 

Loki stopped with that and graciously thanked the little one for it. “Can you show me how little ones color?” he asked.

Mobius switched the crayon into his right hand and held it in a tight fist, just the way Loki had advised him to. 

Loki took his hand and pressed the crayon down onto the paper, encouraging him to make a first mark. “It’s alright. Just scribble. Let a little bit of chaos in.” 

Mobius looked back at him judgmentally before grinning with his pacifier in and taking the advice: Making big circles and squiggles.  

“That looks wonderful,” Loki commented once Mobius moved his hand away and did not pick up another crayon. “Shall we hang it on the fridge?” 

Mobius didn’t need to be asked twice. He pushed himself up onto his feet and found a spot in the middle of the fridge for the colorful page of scribbles right in between Loki’s baby handprints, and Sylvie’s “my family” finger-painting, pinning it on with a tacky jet-ski magnet. 

“Anything more you’d like to do before we get ready for tea?” 

“How much time do we have?” Mobius asked, looking up from the beginnings of a new scribble.

  “A half hour or so. I was thinking maybe we could give you a bath and-”

“I already took a shower, an’ I got a bath just a couple days ago,” Mobius declined. 

“So… what if I were to…”

“No, Loki, I can see where your mind is going. Don’t you even dare. Don’t even think about it.” He put his hands behind his back as if to check if Loki had already cast the spell.  

But, Loki didn’t, and let the little burst of magic die out from his fingertips. He didn’t really want to steal that much autonomy from him anyway. Not from someone he was so close with. 

“Well, if not that, then what should we do?” Loki asked, scooping the little up. 

Upon being met with this sudden weightless feeling, Mobius let out a remarkably high pitched noise.

Loki smiled and pretended not to notice it, fearing that if he interrupted, perhaps Mobius would still try to act grown up. 

The little played with his pacifier in his fingers and checked to see if Loki did have a reaction. 

“Shall we try the toys again? Or maybe we can bake something for Thor.”

Mobius nuzzled into Loki’s chest and tried to scoot up to a sitting position, where, once moved, he played with Loki’s hair. 

“Toys it is then,” Loki whispered as a couple of his locks were gently tugged. 

After the previous attempts with no success, this time, things worked. 

Mobius allowed himself to be comfortable. 

He let himself sink into Loki’s lap, and leaned back to let the adult hold him, but took Loki’s hand and asked him without subtlety, yet still silently, to make an illusion. 

Loki complied and created a miniature universe in the palm of his hand. 

Mobius’ eyes widened as he looked at the beauty. 

“This,” Loki said. “Is how much I love you.” 

The little one grabbed the back of his arm to keep himself propped up, and tried to bump the top of his head affectionately against Loki’s chin. 

“Look at this,” he whispered, trying to get the age dreamer to focus back up. 

Mobius did so and observed as Loki zoomed in, taking close up looks at all the stars and planets and galaxies. 

They made it to Earth, where Mobius helped find themselves and their little cabin, but just as Loki saw himself in the camera of his illusion, as it peered through the window, he suddenly went back to the full view of one tiny universe. 

“See how small we are? And yet”-- he moved the universe with his hand. “And yet you are all of it to me.” 

As he brought his hand up to Mobius’, the illusion seemed to be absorbed into the little one’s chest, by his heart. 

“You’re so cheesy,” Mobius laughed. 

“I thought it was quite sweet.” 

“Sweet… but cliche.” 

“Well fine then,” 

Mobius smiled playfully and put his pacifier in his mouth. 

“Fussy one,” Loki mumbled again, while checking the little one’s nappy once more. He paused as he felt something he didn’t expect. “Is that why you’re so bratty?”

“M’ not bratty,” Mobius laughed. “You’re the prince!” He crawled out of Loki’s lap to the toys, changing the subject. 

“Do you want me to change you before we go?” 

Mobius shifted from side to side while laying on his belly, but didn’t say a word. Loki couldn’t see his face, but the little was so pink. 

However, what Loki couldn’t see, he could feel.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about this. It’s just a wet nappy.” 

He decided not to let Mobius make this decision for himself and set the age-dreamer onto the changing table. 

“Look, we can get you into pull-ups or you can use the potty if you like, but if you’re in nappies, I need to change you.”

Mobius reluctantly let Loki undo the first couple crotch snaps before deciding to get Loki’s attention, grabbing at the caregiver’s sleeve. 

“I forgot to give you a toy, didn’t I?”

“Mhm. Can I have a good one?”

“Yes, I’ll find you a good one,” Loki reassured him with a smile before grabbing a few different ones. Fidget toys and teethers were most common for nappy changes like this, but Loki couldn’t help but feeling like maybe a soft toy would be more welcomed. “That is, unless you want a puzzle toy. I could find you something like that…”

“This ‘s good,” Mobius smiled as Loki gave him an icy rattly teether and the soft, breathing otter. 

That made the rest of all of this much easier, as the little didn’t fuss or whine. Instead, every couple seconds, Loki would hear the plastic jingle of the teether along with the mechanical whir of the otter toy. 

“There we go,” Loki said softly as he patted Mobius’ hips before zipping up the tiger pajamas again and adjusting the snaps. “Now we’re all ready for tea, aren’t we?” 

Mobius hesitated until Loki picked him up, and then gave a light nod. 

“It’s just so scary, isn’t it?”

A little bit of a quicker nod and a tighter hug. 

“It’ll all be fine. We’ll be survive. I have you.”

Then came the final steps, just some easy things like making another bottle for the little and setting up the stroller. 

“This is what i’s like?” Mobius asked around his pacifier as Loki clicked the last few points of the seatbelt. 

“It is. Do you like it?” 

“Yeah,” the little simpered, looking at the overhead toys. 

“Good,” Loki smiled as he kneeled down to hand Mobius a bottle and kissed him on the cheek.

[comedigestme]

Watching a true crime documentary on Jeffery Dahmer and muse is high. Welp. This is my life now. 

[redroomwidows]

hi hi hi :) so idk quite how to request something, so first of all i am so sorry if this is confusing or comes off as rude <3 this is gonna be in a weird format probably but i hope it makes sense

um do you think you could do a oneshot for sylvie x reader(xe/xem pronouns maybe? or they/them if u dont wanna use xe/xem) um anyway back to the request, idk how to word it,, could it be like the only one bed trope? ik it’s kinda a cliché but i love it so damn much 😩 and could it be like sylvie being closed off and touch starved and then warming up to reader?

(sorry if that was too much, i’ve sent about 3 requests before and those were all to someone i’m quite close with 😅 also sorry for rambling a lot i do that too much)

SUMMARY: Y/n gets Sylvie to get some sleep.

WARNINGS: I don't know if we're still doing spoiler warnings. But episode 3 of Loki spoilers. I've never written for Sylvie before, so she may be OOC.

WORD COUNT: 330

I went with they/them pronouns, I hope that's okay! You requested this absolutely perfectly! I'm just a slow writer lol. I didn't really get to the touch-starved bit. Honestly this is a bit short, but I wanted to get this done for you.

Sylvie Odindottir (Laufeydottir) x gn! reader

“We’re in the middle of an apocalypse and you’re worried about there being only one bed?” Y/n’s arms are crossed as Sylvie stares at the bed in the centre of the room.

“I just -” she trails off

“You just?” No response, she’d been staring at the bed for the last five minutes. Loki had somehow managed to get a free bedroom and he’d insisted his travelling ‘compatriots’ took it “Look Sylvie I’m exhausted, so I’m getting in,” Y/n takes off their shoes and puts them by the bed, pulling off the covers and getting inside on the left side of the bed, Sylvie’s eyes widen “What? Do you sleep on the left side, I can move?”

“No, no,” she shakes her head “I can see the door better from the right,”

“Great,” they close their eyes and feel the bed dip as they assume Sylvie sits down. She takes off her helmet and places it on the bedside table, taking off her own shoes and getting into bed. Y/n looks over and see’s their friend basically dangling off the edge, her eyes trained on the metal door.

“Oh, for Odin’s sake,” Y/n sighs “You can get closer, I don’t bite,” Sylvie glances over “Unless you want me to,” Y/n winks and Sylvie lets out a breathy laugh, clearly nervous “Come on, you’ll fall off the bed,”

Sylvie slowly scoots over, her arms straight over the covers, like a plank of wood.

“That’s better,” Y/n smiles, inching closer themselves, they close their eyes, exhaustion taking over, especially after all the walking done that day.

“Can you hear that?” Sylvie asks suddenly

“What?”

“Shhh, listen!” Y/n’s silent and can hear faint singing

“I think it’s just Loki being a twat, it’s fine,” they sigh and gently reach up above the covers and grab Sylvie’s hand, causing the goddess to jump “Close your eyes, get some sleep,”

“Why’re you touching me?” Sylvie’s blunt and somehow a bit of fear is hidden in her voice

“I thought it might comfort you, is it not? I can let go,”

“No,” Sylvie entwines her fingers with Y/n’s, giving it a tight squeeze.

A few minutes go by and Y/n starts to drift off, Sylvie looks over at them, a small smile spreads across her face before she turns her body to face them, getting closer, keeping their hands entwined before closing her own eyes.

Permanent taglist @wizardwheezes @lem6ns @linkpk88

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[minamctc]

THINGS I LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT MY RP PARTNERS.

FILL IN:

i like to be called: Awoo, Sylvia, Fluff, Sylvie, any of them apply -

my favourite colour is: Pretty much any shade of blue

one thing you should know about me:  I do not hate you, nor are you annoying me. Even if we disagree on things, even if I go silent on my end, even if we’re talking and all I do is give emoji or single word replies, I promise you that I care about you and I will treat you fairly as long as you give me the same respect. I am a poor socializer, but paradoxically, I love socializing and when people deem me important enough to regale to me about their favorite things, vent to me about something shitty, or even just send me random shit. I try my best, but I can’t always make it clear that I’m interested, and on the opposite end, sometimes I can come on a little too strongly, and I’m sorry for both.

one thing you should know about my muse:  Many of the details of the P4 story change concerning Yui’s time in Inaba as opposed to Yu/Souji’s - all of the major plot points remain, naturally, but a multitude of things are very different, including her Social Links and even things about the plot-relevant characters’ SLs change. If you ever, ever have any questions about what might’ve changed or if there’s a plot point you’re curious about, feel free to hit me up, on anon or off!

first language: English

second language: Chex-Mixese (AKA I know small smatterings of words and phrases from, like, 10 different languages, but am nowhere near fluent in any of them)

HIGHLIGHT:

age range:  under 13  |  14–17 |  18–22  |  23–25  |  26–29  |  30+ |  70+

am i okay with nsfw?: yes | no | sometimes

my favourite/most common thing to rp is: angst | fluff | smut | crack | action | other

oc friendly?: yes | no | depends

rp blog:   does | doesn’t contain ooc posts

TAGGING:

tagged by: @vacuousfool

tagging: @stxrscourged @inabaslasthope @maid-to-suffer @chozopriimed @miumotos

[shielduniversityapps]

Stepford Cuckoos

OOC INFORMATION: Name/ Pseudonym: Vera Age: 25 Timezone: PST Triggers: Animal cruelty/death Activity: I’m usually online in the evenings every day, mornings I have classes and I don’t typically have tabs or discord open because I know I’ll get distracted. I will try to alert someone if I’m ill or otherwise incapacitated and I’m getting minor surgery on Nov 23 so I will definitely be gone that afternoon. IC INFORMATION: Character you’re applying for: The Stepford Cuckoos (Sophie, Phoebe, Irma, Celeste, and Esme Cuckoo) Age: 19 Face Claim: Dove Cameron Secondary Face Claim: Skyler Samuels Traits:

   [ Collectively ] - Intelligent, Neat, Contentious, Insular [Sophie] “The Leader.” Courageous, Driven / Perfectionist, Inflexible [Phoebe] “The Inquisitive.” Curious, Ambitious / Pedantic, Blunt [Irma] “The Middle Child.” Creative, Caring / Daydreamer, Passive [Celeste] “The Protector.” Industrious, Persistent / Defensive, Distrustful [Esme] “The Troublemaker.” Inventive, Eloquent / Selfish, Frivolous

Reformation Stance: Mixed; they are here as a part of it and don’t want to go back to the secret facility they were held in before, but they are aware that they are a potential time bomb. Sophie and Irma are worried about the threat they pose, Celeste is worried about the threat the other students pose to them, and Esme wants to make a break for it and be done with SHIELD and the horse they rode in on.

Is their Identity known?: They are not known to the general public but are known to SHIELD as Weapon XIV Class Standing: Sophomores Why do you want to play this character?: They’re my favorite Marvel characters and have been for a long time. I’d seen the first film and the Evolution cartoon but I never really started reading comics until I saw an image of the five sisters from the 2001 New X-Men run and wanted to find out what the comics were about as a result. Mind you, their continuity is a big of a mess and Irma’s name should really be Irene to better match the naming conventions of the other four. She was originally called “Mindee” by an author that presumably noticed all of the names end in ‘e’ but later changed to “Irma” to complete the SPICE joke. Other characters you’d like to play: Ruth Aldine, Nico Minoru, Claudette & Nicole St. Croix, Sylvie Lushton, Aracely Penalba, Nadia Van Dyne

(I don’t expect to play all of them, I’m just listing a range to cover potential plot developments/interest.) Bio: Sophie, Phoebe, Irma Celeste, and Esme are eerily identical quintuplets, sent out as Cuckoos in the mutants’ cozy nest. Being unaware of their true nature ensured nosy telepaths could glean nothing suspicious from them, but made eventually discovering the truth just…mildly traumatic. They were attempting to infiltrate an underground network of mutants when they were apprehended by SHIELD and brought to a high security facility for processing.

Though they were guilty of every crime they were being accused of (tampering with an election, theft, extortion, and more) the agents in command eventually realized that the Cuckoos themselves didn’t know why they had done all of that. Worse still, they didn’t know that they were clones, only a few months old despite looking eighteen, the age printed on the fake ID cards supplied by their creators. The creators in question were never apprehended, either. SHIELD had managed to track the files on the Weapon XIV project, nicknamed ‘the Stepford Cuckoos’, but the lab itself was long abandoned when agents finally stormed the building.

This presented a potential dilemma: to keep the girls imprisoned indefinitely for the safety of the public, or to give them the opportunity to change course now that they knew what they truly were.

These pangs of conscience eventually coalesced when SHIELD University rolled out a “villain reformation” program that the sisters could be enrolled in. There, they would theoretically be able to make choices for themselves, to find out who they were beyond being programmed to infiltrate and eventually destroy everything or if they were determined to go down the same path no matter what. They still don’t know who exactly their genetic template is, or what further surprises their creators might be able to spring on them. They’re also discovering that despite their excellent academic results they know very little about pop culture thanks to being speed-grown in a lab. As this is their first semester officially enrolled in the University, they’re being thrown right in at the deep end to figure it all out.

Writing Sample: A Cuckoo is a parasitic bird that hides its eggs in another bird’s nest. The songbird raises the predators that killed its own children without realizing the terrible truth. The Stepford Cuckoos went out into the world programmed to achieve their goals at any cost, all the while manipulating true mutants who never realized. The particular humor of mad scientists seems so much more obvious in hindsight, even to the agents or acquaintances who aren’t erroneously insisting that they knew all along. People whisper about them sometimes, falling silent when they realize the Cuckoos are near. The collective click, click, click of their heels keeps a brisk pace through the quad to alert them that it’s time to switch from murmurs to silent frowns. They’re not the only people brought in under the premise of ‘reform’ but they do present a visible spectacle. There’s no sense arguing the finer details of telepathy when the topic du jour is the wisdom of keeping little death machines in their school.

Do other people still feel hairs standing up on the back of their neck when they know beyond a doubt that people are discussing them? Irma thinks they must. It’s not telepathy making her shift her shoulders uncomfortably as another student glares across at them. She’s feeling the force of the disapproval on its own. Celeste doesn’t care to believe that any of the stray thoughts in the air represent beings capable of metacognition. Other questions linger. Does it matter what they think? To the degree that it’s left them essentially locked in a larger cage, it must. Does it change anything? Nothing and everything all at once. They’re mutants, here to attend classes like any of the other new students that arrived on campus in September, even if the five of them aren’t real. The hallways and common rooms of the school are alive with gossip but they are still present to hear it because they haven’t been turned out onto the street. It’s something, if only just.

Esme dislikes the idea that they ought to be grateful for the relative freedom to walk outdoors without handcuffs even if she likes being able to see the sun again. The second they step out of line, or even appear to do so, they’ll probably be hauled right back to those cold cement rooms. And who would ever take her, take any of them at their word if they were to protest? They’re weapons in petite blonde frames and the people in charge know it. So long as that can be held over their heads they’re not truly free.

But they can’t pretend they don’t know. They could try to ignore it for a while if they hide up in their room where the walls will offer no suspicious glances. It seems about as effective as locking a door between themselves and a dragon; it will remain on the other side to destroy them whenever they muster the courage to open the door, and they can never ignore it quite as thoroughly as they’d like to.

Unable to reach a consensus, they say nothing and continue walking past the offending individuals as if they can’t hear. If their steps are precise enough and their noses held high in the air, they can pretend, for a while at least, that they’re deaf to the gossip and realizations lingering in their wake. Extra Bits and Bobs:

https://66.media.tumblr.com/c946666c0e115a6c1084327c55996b6e/tumblr_o2hd030dqt1tcqtwqo1_500.png

http://amindhive.tumblr.com/post/162730288736/aesthetic-overwhelming-numbers

http://amindhive.tumblr.com/post/179438495036

http://amindhive.tumblr.com/post/179438556371

http://amindhive.tumblr.com/post/179438648236

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Rule check:  [ Removed by Mods ]