#But like I have songs like everyone hates his parents on my scary and norm playlists

[rooolt]

Me solemnly listening to the falsettos songs i put on my dndads character playlists because i cant relate the jewish aspects to any of the characters

[pluto-art]

Softly - PatB Fan Fiction

Type: Hurt/Comfort Rating: PG Summary: Baby Brain has known little but pain and misery in an unloving world, but when he gets paired up with a new lab student things change in a way he didn’t expect.

This started out as a mini story in a Discord server and got... a little out of hand. What you see here is how much I typed out in the server.

He hadn't been there long. Two... maybe three weeks? The cold metal had finally become familiar beneath his feet, and the strange blocks, though generally tasteless, kept him alive. There wasn't much that made his new living quarters interesting; there was only so much one could do in a pile of aspen shavings day after day. Occasionally, they would hook up to his cage some sort of liquid that wasn't his usual watery fair. He could never decipher or make heads or tails of the words on the sides of the bottles, saying things like D-D-T or S-N-I-P-P-L-E. The only distinguishing feature to him was that sometimes they tasted terrible, sometimes quite flavorful, and sometimes they tasted like nothing at all. Almost all of them turned his stomach. Driven to thirst, however, he'd play their cruel game. Choice was not something that existed in this crisp, sterile world; at least, not from a personal standpoint. When it did exist it meant the difference between a shock and a treat; a yellow light or a red light; a warm room or a cold one. Choice was manufactured.

He still cried almost every night. He tried to quiet the tears, but they didn't always listen. The others heard him. One or two laughed cynically. Most said nothing; they'd shed their own fair share and would again sooner than later. A single kind soul, a mother rat some doors down from him, occasionally whispered to him a lullaby or two when everyone else but them were asleep. They were songs she sang to her own children to quiet their tears, and she had no less compassion for this unfortunate soul, who was even worse off than her own brood -- he didn't even have any parents to nuzzle up to. Had she her way, she would have mutilated every last living human being in the facility. It was bad enough that they were tested on mercilessly as adults. To do so to children was simply insidious. Alas, she was simply a rat, and so could only dream of days when she wasn't.

Not that BR-41N (that's what they called him; no one had real names here) hadn't tried to be friendly with his captures. Aside from a particularly nasty poke from some long, thin, prickly object inserted into his thigh the first day (it had stung; oh, it had stung...) the proceeding couple of days had consisted of simple maze runs and treadmill exercises. Nothing too elaborate. As a child, he'd been used to running around a lot in the field, and sifting through the labyrinths reminded him of the long grass he'd play hide-and-seek in back home, except at the end of them was a tasty prize: a piece of cheese. He liked cheese. In the wild, it was hard to come by, but here they gave it to him generously, provided he finished the courses, which he always did. The fourth day followed in much the same way, but the fifth day brought something different: a sudden shock and a broken tail. That had changed his view of things. Perhaps the harsh awakening wouldn't have been so terrible had it not been followed by other unspeakable things -- poisoned food; friends made that, the next day, would never be seen again; more shocks given as punishment for choosing an incorrect panel; injections that made him see things he'd never seen, monsters and strange colors and other scary things that kept him awake at night; loud noises that came out of nowhere; and often, quite often, the terrifying echo of squeaks, barks, and meows that made up the daily music of Acme Laboratories. He hated it. He hated all of it. More than anything, he wanted to go home. He missed the warmth; the love; the soft whisper of the wind that traveled through his ivory fur. He wanted all of it back. But life? She was a harsh mistress. And no amount of crying, screaming, or pleading, seemed to ever make her turn an ear.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks... months, more than just a tail was broken. Trust was broken. Hope was broken. Spirit... was broken. If there was any love, if there was any future, it wasn't here. Kindness had proved unfruitful, and patience had run its course. He didn't find reason to be willing, nor show charity, towards those who made his life a living hell. What reason was there? What profit was in it? Time had told him, quite bluntly, there wasn't. It had taken him a full month to admit defeat, but admit it he did, and cynical he became, 'til every hand that reached in to grab him was ripe to be bitten, every shot that punctured his stomach was the unwelcome norm, and every newcomer that tried to strike up a friendship was easily ignored. The latter-most was simply wasting their time. He could read the colors on the cages now. He knew that a red mark meant "death". He only wondered why he, as of yet, had never been given one himself. It was as if life itself was laughing at him -- keeping him as witness to the horrors that went on inside the dragon's cave, yet never giving him the satisfaction of death.

And so the third month dawned, chilly and barren, or so the scientists said. Autumn had come. Not that any of the residents within the thick, cemented walls could see it. But the laboratory personnel spoke of it -- gold and crimson leaves, hot chocolate, dried wheat fields. He could almost smell the corn; could almost feel the breeze.... Days passed. For the first time, they gave him a cage mate. E8-WN, they called him. He was kind, but BR-41N had little love left to give. Besides, he had the red tag. It seemed they had only placed him here temporarily due to a lack of space. The next day he was taken to the back. The tiniest shred of pity nipped at BR-41N as he watched the little peach-furred mouse be carried into the surgical room, a curious look on his face. Another emotion was also present within him: jealousy. On the 17th day of September, a new thing happened -- a thing that, for the first time in a while, made the little mouse turn his head.

The school year had started, and, as such, fresh meat was welcomed into the laboratory in the form of fourteen college students looking to continue pursuits in medical science. They were all very quiet during the tour, one or two of them occasionally lifting a hand to ask a question about course materials or contact information. They were each, it seemed, to be given a subject: an animal from the laboratory to study, train, and conduct experiments on. Rats, mice, and hamsters had already been picked out for them, and each was given a black-coated subject or a brown-furred captive to take charge of. Each student's rodent was to be kept in the lab at all times, and specific instructions were given them as to the proper handling of the creatures. At least two experiments were to be conducted on them daily, three if possible. They could spend as much time with their charge as they wished, so long as they got their homework done. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents. Four months to finish their work. Simple.

As it stood, however, there had been a miscalculation. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents.... No. Not fourteen. Only thirteen. There'd been an error. They'd forgotten to set aside an extra subject. The unfortunate student without a charge was a college girl named Rachel. All other rodents were going through tests conducted by various personnel in the lab, set aside specifically for said conductions that couldn't currently be tampered with. All except one....

"So, um, Rachel," their teacher said, checking his student list. "You may have to share with... Peterson.... You know what? We might... actually have an extra for you. Hold on. Let me ask...."

And he departed into another room, calling for a "Jackson".

"Jackson! Can she use BR-41N? I don't think he's going through any rigorous testing.... Yeah? Okay. Yeah, that would work out perfectly. Thanks."

He turned back to his brood, many of whom looked quite eager to jump in to these intriguing studies, others looking downright bored.

"Okay. We have one for you. His code name is BR-41N. He's not going through any major testing, and he's generally given the usual works -- labyrinths, shock treatment, all that. But, um... he bites. Really bad. So... you'll have to watch it, all right?"

"Okay," Rachel nodded, looking a little nervous.

"All right. Umm.... Good. Yes. So, let's head back to the main campus, and... we'll start your work tomorrow."

And they left.

BR-41N had only heard part of all this, and had understood none of it. He shivered in his cage, taking a moment to drink some water out of the bottle that hung there. While the arrival of such a large group intrigued him, especially since it consisted of a much younger set than normal, it also made him nervous. Was it a sign of good things to come... or bad? Or just more of the usual fair? One could only wonder. For now, he was simply grateful that the cheese they'd given him today was, for once, not laced with drugs.

She came by on a Tuesday.

It was an hour after a cosmetics test that he heard a knock on the table. His skin still burned. He was cowering in a far corner, and looked back over his shoulder hesitantly.

Rachel stood there, smiling at him.

"Hello, little one." He stared at her, nonplussed. "I guess you're my charge. You gonna say hello?"

And she opened up the door of his cage.

He shuffled back further. He knew all too well by this point that the opening of a door meant one of two things: food or torture. Considering the fact that she didn't smell of food, he had to assume it was the latter.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. Well, hopefully not...."

Although he didn't understand a word of what she said, her tone was calm; soothing. No one in the lab ever talked to him like this. He couldn't help but stare curiously.

She held her hand up to the entrance and made a soft, squeak-like sound with her mouth. He frowned at her. As if that was going to convince him. He turned away.

"No? I don't blame you," she replied, taking a look at his clipboard. "BR-41N. What kind of a freak name is that? Mind if I call you Brain? Or Brian?"

No response.

"We'll go with Brian. Brain sounds kinda weird."

Brian it was.

She kept the door open, and he braced himself. Any moment now, gloved hands would be protruding into his enclosure to wrap themselves firmly about him, not tight enough to choke him, but secure enough that he couldn't escape. But the hand didn't come. If anything, she pulled up a chair, sat down, and rested her arms upon the table on which his cage sat. She was... giving him a choice? He stared at her, unsure how to react.

"Come on, sweet heart," she cooed, rubbing her fingers together encouragingly.

But he wouldn't budge. If this was some new trick, it wasn't going to work. He wished she'd just grab him and get it over with. Sooner or later, she'd have to. It was only a matter of time. And so he waited....

She sat there for a full twenty minutes, trying her best to get him to come over, but he refused to budge, and so she gave up. As expected, she still ran him through a maze, but instead of reaching in to grab him, she found a clear tube and scooped him up in it, covering both ends before depositing him into the run as such. It was... odd, but less invasive than what he was used to. He rather wished the others would do it that way.

Via the same method she returned him to his cage at the end of the test. As usual, he took to the corner, assuming his usual cowardly pose, but he turned to look at her as she spoke.

"Sorry about that. Nice job, though. See you tomorrow."

And so went the next day... and the next, always with the same introduction: She'd open his door, pull up a chair, and offer her hand to him. After twenty minutes of nothing, she'd scoop him up in the tube, deposit him in the maze or whatever other test he was to perform that day, and return him in the same manner. This went on for four whole weeks, always with a kind word, never coupled with a harsh prod or poking of his skin. He came to somewhat look forward to her almost daily visits, not because he trusted her (the one time she had tried touching him [with gloves on, of course], he'd given her a fair warning in the form of a bite), but because it was the only two hours during the day in which he knew he wouldn't be fed poison, given a shot, or made to inhale cigarette smoke. The other students joked with her. By far, she had the unfriendliest mouse out of all of them, and they found her kind advances a waste of time.

"Just pick him up!" a tall boy said.

Most of them had no problem with handling their subjects by the tail; at least, the boys generally didn't. The girls were kinder, but even they didn't take the time to get to know their animals intimately. They also were given the harder tests to conduct on their critters and so tried not to get attached.

Whereas most of the rats, mice, and hamsters given to the students would eventually be killed in some way or other at the end of the semester, via through vivisection, gassing, cancer, or some other method, BR-41N, or... Brian, as Rachel now called him, was not scheduled to be offed anytime soon and so could not undergo such rigorous experiments. As such, she got both the easy job of conducting very simple tests on him, and also the hard job of trying to work with the most hostile mouse in the entire facility.

"He's never gonna warm up to you," one of the other students said.

Rachel took it as a challenge.

"Watch me," she said.

But Brian was proving to be a much tougher can than expected. By the sixth week, he still hadn't even bothered to venture near the cage entrance when she sat near it, even with tasty treats in hand. He simply didn't trust anyone. Not anymore....

October came and went, to be replaced with a frosty November. Whenever Brian saw Rachel now she had a cup of tea in hand, the better to ward off the coming winter chill. Still she tried; still he refused to relent. Until the 9th....

It was late. She hadn't been able to get to the lab until 8:00 PM due to unfortunate series of events that involved a fender bender, two appointments, and a last minute essay. When she got to the lab she was tired... and not at all in the mood to deal with Brian's B.S., and he knew it.

"'Sup?" she asked him wearily, setting down her things in a huff. Only a handful of other people were still in the facility at this hour, none of them students. Fine by her. She preferred the quiet anyway. "We're gonna do something a little different today, bud."

Indeed.... He perked his ears up at her exhausted tone and the fact that, for once, she didn't open the cage door. But she did still slide the chair up to his table.

On the opposite side of the room was a television on a rolling stand. Normally, this was used for surgeries and other experiments. Once in a blue moon, however, someone would use it for recreational purposes -- to watch the local news when there was time to kill. Most fortunately for Rachel, it also came with a VHS player. Into it she popped a tape, before sitting down in the chair and grabbing her hot cup of peppermint tea. Despite himself, Brian took a whiff of the tea, whose scent had wafted into his cage and tickled his nose. It smelled good.

The film began to play. Brian didn't know the name of it, but whatever it was it was made up of very pretty pictures and featured a lot of dogs... and snow (at least at the beginning). It was rather soothing. Still, he didn't move from his spot, save to grab a lab block at one point to munch on, more to pass the time than anything. His stomach was still a little unsettled from earlier. Privately, he was a bit ticked off at the girl. Had she been a bit earlier he might have avoided the shock treatments. Not that they would have withheld them regardless.

It wasn't until the second song that his attention was at last caught.

"La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...."

Sweetly did the animated woman sing her little song, and Brian, captivated, perked his ears. He looked up at the television. She was still singing. He stepped forward, bit by bit, until he was right up to the closed door, two little paws coming up to grasp at the bars of his cage as he stared, entranced, at the screen.

"La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper, La la lu, La la lu, La la luuuuu."

And so it ended, all within the span of a minute, if that, but something had stirred with him -- a remembrance of home, and warmth, and what it was like to be loved.

He was still clutching at the bars when he noticed that Rachel was smiling at him, and he promptly sped back to his corner, embarrassed.

"Atta boy," she whispered, still grinning softly at him.

He refused to look at her. He wasn't touched by it or anything. He wasn't....

"It's okay. Don't be embarrassed," said the girl. "I like that song, too."

Brian stayed in his corner the rest of the movie, but the song never left his mind. 

---

The next day proceeded as normal. Once again, Rachel sat by his cage. Once again, she had brought a treat, albeit one he'd never seen before, nor smelled, for that matter. It was small... and white... and fluffy, and it smelled sugary and sweet. He wanted it. Oh, he wanted it so very badly. But nothing that ever came from the fingers of a scientist, even a soft-spoken one, was innocent. And so he refused, his back turned to her.

"Stubborn butt," said Rachel, and by her tone alone Brian could tell that it was a snide comment. He ignored her.

"Here."

As had occurred many times before, she left the treat in his cage near the entrance, closed the door, and sat to watch him. His eyes shifted towards the treat. It sat there, staring at him, mocking him. Eat me, it said. No, he thought. Oh, but it smelled so good....

Rachel sighed. So did Brian. She rested her head in her arms, exasperated. Maybe it really wasn't worth it....

Brian licked his lips. Perhaps....

He took a step forward. Rachel remained where she was, head in her arms, not looking at him. He moved another step. She was still as a stone. Patter patter patter patter patter... GRAB. He swooped back to his corner as fast as possible, marshmallow in his mouth. Rachel looked up... and chuckled. Brian dug into the treat, enjoying every second of it as teeth sunk into the savory delight. He'd never tasted anything this good before. It was better than mother's milk; much better than lab pellets; better than cheese....

"Silly little thing," Rachel giggled, smiling as he filled his cheeks with pleasantness. "Wait 'til you see what I bring you tomorrow."

Tomorrow, he was to find out, brought a piece of a doughnut, and the day after that a waffle. He'd never been this darn spoiled before. On the fourth occasion, he was, for once, already at the door, waiting to see what she'd bring. Lady and the Tramp and sugar, it turned out, were the keys to his heart, although he still wouldn't let her touch him. If her hand so much as brushed his fur he was back to his corner in a rush, although, this time, he didn't try to bite her first.

Rachel laughed when she saw the two little paws clutching at the gated entrance.

"You like 'em that much, huh? Here ya' go."

He stepped back to allow her access to the gate, and watched carefully as she placed something savory and smelling of salt inside. He sniffed, investigating as she closed the door. He took a tentative bite. Mmmmm. Yes, this was acceptable. Grabbing it, he rushed back to his usual corner and chowed down.

"Good. A fellow bacon appreciator," Rachel nodded, satisfied.

He ate the entire piece, licking his lips and proceeding to clean himself afterwards. That had been a bit messy. Good, but messy. If there was something he still valued, it was cleanliness. He could at least retain some form of dignity. The state of his fur was one of the few things he still had control over. Unlike some of the other unfortunate chaps, he'd never had to endure surgery or a shaved stomach.

Two little pink ears perked up as his cage door was opened yet again. More treats? No. Just Rachel, hand offered to him once more. Brian sighed. She just wouldn't give up, would she?

A second glance made him aware that she did, in fact, have something in her hand -- another marshmallow. Hmph. Sneaky. And yet, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it....

"It's okay, little one," Rachel cooed, hand still outstretched, that plump marshmallow beckoning ever so tantalizingly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise."

Brian sighed. He looked down at the floor, then over at her hand.

Rachel's eyes widened a touch, but she otherwise didn't reveal her surprise as Brian moved forward, inch by inch, step by step, towards her hand....

He stopped at the entrance, debating. Dare he...? It was a risk. He'd never willing done this, not since he'd been captured. It was a stupid decision. Stupid. And yet....

Her hand shifted a touch, and Brian shifted nervously with it. Rachel waited with bated breath.

He stepped forward....

In a flash, he'd grabbed the 'mallow from her hand and retreated to the back of his cage, not daring to even think about what he'd just done. It was foolish. It was dangerous. And yet, she hadn't tried to grab him, or even pet him. She'd just... given him a choice. And he'd taken it. Somehow, for some reason, he'd taken it.

Rachel smiled.

"Atta boy."

---

Perhaps it was the mere fact, the tantalizing realization, that he had a choice in the first place, that drew him back, but over the course of the next few weeks, things changed.

It had started slow at first. A light brush of the whiskers here; a sniff of the hand there. But, eventually, Brian, of his own accord, stepped into her hand. And she didn't close her fingers about him harshly, or strangle him, or pick him up by the tail. She simply... let him be. It was kind. It was unobtrusive. It was respectful. And he appreciated it.

No longer did the other students make fun, or joke that she'd never gain his trust. If anything, they questioned her.

"How the heck did you do it?" they'd ask, curious.

Even more confused were the scientists themselves. Not that anyone had tried very hard to gain the little mouse's trust. He was, in their opinion, not worth the time.

But he was to Rachel.

December came, and with it a complete turn-around in Brian's behavior, albeit towards one particular individual.

He eagerly rushed into her hand now. No need for the transportation tube. She could carry him on her shoulder to the maze area and pick him up with her bare hands as she placed him in the labyrinth, although she still made sure to let him take the first step and would, more often than not, simply offer a hand instead of plucking him from her shoulder. He still appreciated this.

Every weekday was now a day to look forward to. Sure, he was still tormented by the main personnel, but for two or three hours, two or three sweet hours, he didn't have to worry about anything. On the days he suffered from a stomach-ache, she'd hold him close to her chest and do her best to rub the pain away, offering him tea to ease his suffering, and if he fell asleep on her shoulder and woke up, shaking, from a bad dream, she'd rock him back and forth, singing "La La Lu" to him until the nightmares went away. On those rare nights, when she could only work late and no one was around, she'd bottle feed him. He'd been hesitant (and a little embarrassed) at first, but any reminder of home was difficult to ignore, and so he ended up embracing each form of love and affection with open paws, clutching tightly to her chest some days, as if this hug would be his last. For all he knew, it could be. He'd gotten used to her visits, but what if she left and never came back? He didn't want that love to leave....

December 14th.

The end of the semester was approaching. Rachel had told him, time and again, that she was leaving soon; that she would miss him; that she'd try to come back for the next semester. Brian understood none of this. He was a mouse, after all. Human language was foreign to him. The most he could understand was the occasional word -- his name, Brian, and various names of foods and tests -- and basic inflections that he knew signified concern, happiness, or contentment. But he didn't understand "leave", or "semester", or "miss". He could tell something was wrong, that she was sad, but as to why, he did not know.

A week from the last day of the semester, she brought a surprise: a movie. It had something to do with a rat, and food. He liked it for those things. He wished he could understand the words. It seemed interesting. He sat on Rachel's shoulder the entire time, at least until the end of the film, during which Rachel offered her hand to him. He accepted. She brought him up to her chest, nuzzling him close.

"I'm going away for a while, but... I'll try to be back next semester."

She petted him gently. He stared up at her, curious and concerned. Why was she so sad?

"I'm going to miss you...," she whispered. And, for the first time, she kissed him on his fuzzy white head. "I love you...."

He didn't understand the words, but he understood what they meant; how they felt.

Slowly, gently, he nuzzled close to her... and licked her fingers. It was the first time he'd shown genuine affection outside of nuzzling since he'd been captured. I love you, too....

He didn't understand it, but... there was something in the air that told him something big was coming. Something new. Something was going to be different....

December 18th came just like any other day. The semester was coming to a close. Many students had already finished their courses and gone home for the holidays. The occasional class still lingered on, including the medical science class. Most all had completed training and experimentation on their subjects for the season and were simply spending the next few days filing reports and filling out last minute essays. Some of the rodents wouldn't live to see the new year. Others had already been subjected to vivisection by their handlers and were far from the lab by this point. Subject BR-41N was one of the few who'd been given the same sheet on their clipboard day after day, week after week: a run of the mill of the usual, simple, non-invasive tests, along with an injection or two. But today was different.

As Rachel stepped up to Brian's cage, sipping at a hot cup of tea and smiling as her charge ran up to the bars to greet her, she frowned as she pulled up the clip board. His tag was yellow. Not the usual blue, but... yellow. She set down her cup, ignoring Brian's squeaky pleas to be let out as she looked over the sheet carefully.

Subject Reserved for Project B.R.A.I.N. // Invasive Study -- Cognitive Psychology, Neuroscience Psychology // 4:00 PM - Dec. 20

There was a pause, in which the dip in Rachel's brow furrowed ever deeper, her eyes roaming about the page scrutinizingly, before she slipped the paper out of its holder and headed back out the way she'd came, Brian looking curiously after her.

She marched all the way to a back office, in which sat one of the laboratory heads: Jackson. He looked up over his square-rimmed glasses as she knocked upon the exposed inner door frame.

"Yes?" he asked, sounding bored.

"Hey. Um.... I think you gave my subject the wrong paper."

"BR-41N?"

"Yeah. He got a yellow."

She stretched out her arm, offering the paper as proof, but he didn't take it. Instead, he looked up at her, fingers meeting at their tips, and said:

"No, I gave you the right paper. That's for BR-41N. His procedure is in two days."

His tone was flat and laced with a thin layer of poison, as if her daring to question him was a challenge.

"But... I thought he was just doing mainly labyrinth tests."

"Ms. Field, I thought you were told...?"

"Told what...?"

"He's been scheduled for this procedure for months. We wanted him fresh and so have eschewed more invasive tests until now. Frankly, you've been spending a little too much time with that mouse. He's gotten too friendly. We're not in the business of developing attachment here."

He said all this with a straight face, completely emotionless. Rachel swallowed thickly.

"Sir, I've... been going over this test. It's... very dangerous."

"Yes."

"It could kill him...."

"Yes?"

Rachel simply stared at him, uncertain of what to say next. He wasn't working with her here....

"Look.... What did you expect? You're studying medical science, correct?"

She nodded.

"Okay, well," he continued, a small chuckle of sarcasm escaping his lips as he said it. "Y-You have to realize that... this is a laboratory. We can't keep every subject. And these tests come with a lot of risks."

"Could you possibly do the test on another subject...?" Rachel asked, choosing her words carefully. "Brian is still kind of young, and..."

"Brian?"

Shoot.

"Sorry, I mean... BR-41N."

"You can't start... naming them, Miss Field. That's when you start getting attached. Understand?"

"I know...," Rachel mumbled, cheeks reddening as she looked down at her shoes.

"And the whole point of using him at this age is because his mind is younger. He's fresh."

"But he's just a baby..."

"Yes? And? A lot of the other students are working with infants."

"This one is...," Rachel began, than stopped. Already she'd said too much.

"Miss Field, if you don't prepare him for the procedure, someone else will. Now, you can either do your assignment or lose your credits. It's your choice."

Rachel sighed. Still holding the paper, she let her arm fall dramatically to her side.

"Fine...."

And she turned to walk off. But...

"Miss Field?"

She looked at him.

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes, Sir," Rachel replied, after a hefty pause, and headed back to her charge.

---

Brian didn't understand why Rachel was so quiet that day, nor why she cuddled him so much. She whispered to him something about "breaking out" and "night", but he didn't understand what those things meant, although he heard the urgency in her voice. As a result, he was a little more uptight the rest of the afternoon.

Before leaving, Rachel kissed the top of his head again, before setting him back down in the cage and hooking the door. Her good-byes were all but gibberish to him, although he recognized the word "tomorrow". So he'd be seeing her tomorrow. That was good. At least he had a time frame. He was naive to the rest....

---

December 19th 9:15 PM

BR-41N cleaned his whiskers, pondering.

She hadn't shown up today. Strange. "Tomorrow". She's said "tomorrow". Today was tomorrow. Why hadn't she come?

To his left, in a far corner of the room, someone sneezed in their cage. Brian frowned sadly. It was that hamster again. Whatever they'd given him had put him into a sneezing fit for an hour. Now and then he relapsed.

He yawned, stretched, and made for the food dispenser, when he suddenly heard a sharp click of a door being opened and abruptly snapped shut. He turned in the direction of the door. A light flicked on. Brian smiled.

Rachel's feet slid across the floor in haste. Instead of her usual student lab coat, she was decked out in her normal clothes, complete with backpack. Her hoodie was up, obscuring her hair, save for a few strands that stuck out here and there, as well as part of her face. She moved with purpose, albeit a little covertly, looking over her shoulder every now and then, as if expecting someone to grab her at any minute.

Set in a wall above the entrance to the room, a camera followed her. Rachel's eyes shifted at the sound as she moved towards Brian's cage. She knew she only had five, maybe ten, minutes at best.

Opening the cage door, she held her hand out for Brian to step onto. He hesitated. Something didn't smell right....

"Come on. We're busting you out of here, dude," Rachel whispered.

Brian cocked his head at her questioningly.

"Listen, they're going to put your through that splicer if we don't get you out of here, so come on."

There was an urgency in her voice that, despite his misgivings, compelled him to move forward. He trusted her too much by this point.

"Atta boy," she praised him, tucking him in her shirt pocket.

He peeked out, paws clutching at the edges of the pocket interestedly.

"Let's go," Rachel whispered, turning back to the door and stopping as she realized that someone was already standing there....

Framed in the metal doorway was a woman, thirty-five... maybe forty-something in age. Her arms were crossed, and the expression on her face seemed as taught and firm as the scrunchie tightening her poofy auburn hair. Her long lab coat was still settling; she must have only just gotten there. Rachel recognized this woman. Lana, her name was -- she was one of the head managers at the facility. Jackson had obviously tipped her off.

"Fancied a night stroll?" she asked, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel remained frozen in place, a hand subconsciously cupping her shirt pocket. The gesture didn't go unnoticed.

"You know you're risking a lot for this. That's all your credits down the drain."

"He's worth it," Rachel answered, resolute.

"He's not. You take him and they'll just get another subject."

"At least I'll have saved this one."

"We'd still rather you not take an asset that's been reserved for months for this procedure," Lana nipped, taking a step forward.

Rachel took a step back. Her eyes shifted to a door to her left. It led to several other testing rooms and then back out into the main hallway. Some of the doors had security locks. It was the long way around, but if she was fast enough....

"Rachel...," Lana spoke, tone threatening as she advanced. "Put him down."

With each step Lana took towards her, Rachel moved two back. She could feel herself starting to perspire. Gosh, this was a stupid idea....

"Rachel...."

With a hand cupped over her shirt pocket, Rachel darted in the direction of the door, opening it up in a flash and slamming it shut behind her. Already she was racing for the opposite end of the room, where another door stood.

Brian jumped as an alarm went off, followed by red lights that flashed all throughout the facility. Rachel was already in the next room, her heart racing. She could hear the panicked footsteps behind her, mimicking her own, and hoped upon hope that she was faster than her pursuer.

Rachel picked up her pace as she entered the next room. This one, she knew, required an employee badge to open. All of the students had been given security badges, of course, primarily for general access to the entrance and main rooms. They worked on some doors in the facility. Some, but not all. She'd never been in these rooms. Privately, she prayed that they'd open for her.

Slamming her badge up against a wall panel, she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet nervously.

"Come on. Come oooon! Take it!!"

It did. The door unlocked, and she swung it open in haste to make for the next locked door, which also granted her entrance.

She was faster than Lana, but it didn't mean the woman wasn't hot on her heels. Brian shut his eyes tightly, huddling against Rachel's chest on the inside of her pocket as she darted about, her hand still cupping him securely. He knew, somehow, that this was about him. His ears rotated this way and that at the duo of clicking feet racing down the linoleum flooring. Who would win? Who was he most valuable to?

It wasn't until the fourth room that Rachel started to panic. Yet again, she'd reached a door asking for proof of access, except this time... her badge was not accepted. She shook the door handle feebly, knowing it wouldn't open; knowing this was the end of the line. Despite himself, Brian peeked out of the shirt pocket, just in time to see Lana as Rachel swiftly turned around to face the woman, who stood at the opposite end of the room, hair askew and chest heaving as she glared at Rachel and her tiny charge.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Lana huffed.

"Why do you need him?! Just let me take him and get another subject!" Rachel bit.

"We let you get away with it and you'll set a precedent! You know that!" Lana snapped right back. "And we don't want to waste any more time. We've spent too much money on this project."

"He's just a baby!"

"All of them are meant to be expendable! Hand him over!"

"No!"

Brian's ears flicked. Rachel held her breath. Was it just them, or did they hear... more footsteps?

"You won't have a choice," Lana said flatly, expressionless as she was joined by not one, not two, but five other lab hands, one of the them Jackson, all of them full-time personnel.

"Rachel.... Hand him over," Jackson said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Rachel glared daggers at him, even though she was fully aware of the impossibility of the situation. Like the mouse she was trying so hard to protect, she was trapped, her back against the wall, literally. They were going to take him. They were going to take him and there was nothing she could do about it....

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Jackson continued.

"Please...," Rachel pleaded, breathing heavily. "Please, let me take care of him. I'll train another in his place as compensation, I swear. Just... don't hurt him."

"And then you'll grow attached to that one and try and kidnap it. We've seen it before. You're not the first," Jackson reprimanded.

"Good," said Rachel. "I'm glad I'm not."

Privately, she wondered why she'd ever signed up for this in the first place. She wanted the degree. She wanted it badly. She also loved animals, and knew that following her passion came with sacrifices. What she hadn't counted on was how difficult it would be to accept that. It wasn't feasible, she realized. In fact, it was darn near impossible.

She looked down at the infant trembling in her pocket -- at this little creature that had captured her heart and locked it away, far away from any hopes and dreams of graduating in the medical field of her choosing. "He's not worth it," Lana had said. Was he not? Brian looked up at her, those glossy little eyes staring at her expectantly, trustingly. She smiled sadly at him and, for the last time, cuddled him close, before looking up at the troop across from her.

"If you want him, come and get him," she challenged. They weren't getting him without a fight.

And they rushed at her.

She tried to escape. Oh, she tried... and failed. They grabbed her by the arms as she wrestled against them, cheering Brian on as he somehow managed to escape from her pocket and slip underneath one of the shelving units in the room. But Lana caught him, Brian squeaking as his tail snagged between the beaker and the small metal panel she'd captured him with. He stared at Rachel, his desperate, panicked expression the last thing she saw before being knocked out.

-------

- Two Years Later -

The plan had failed. Rather spectacularly, he might add....

It was the first time in Brain's memory he could ever recall being caught red-handed by any of the personnel at Acme Labs. It was a miracle he and Pinky had managed to escape, but, despite his best attempts, they'd been separated in the process.

He made for a facility some yards away from the main laboratory, sweating as he squeezed under its front door and immediately hid under a cabinet to his right. Lights flashed now and again beyond the windows, desperate voices accompanying them as the scientists searched here and their for the escapees. Brain silently prayed that Pinky had somehow found a suitable hiding spot.

In his position under the cabinet, he backed up against the wall and slid down it, a paw clutching at his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he gulped, sniffed, and buried his face in his knees. Stupid. Stupid.... He'd jeopardized their whole mission. What if they'd captured Pinky? What would they do to him? And even if they did escape, where would they go? He'd ruined everything. Everything....

In his haste to remain undetected, he'd neglected to realize that this room... was not entirely devoid of life. It was a small area -- a security office, to be exact. Numerous monitors took up space on a desk, at which someone sat. They slid out of their chair and stepped over to Brain's hiding place. He noticed... and shivered.

Whatever, whomever, it was got down on their knees to peer at him from just outside the dresser.

"Hello...," they said.

It was a woman. Her voice was soft, and kind, but Brain turned his head away from her prying eyes. Typical. In an effort to not get caught he'd inevitably been ratted out. He immediately considered making a run for it, but, for some reason he couldn't explain, he didn't.

"Hey.... Shh. Shh. It's okay, little one. It's okay," cooed the woman. "You wanna come on out...?"

And she held out a hand to him. She didn't try to grab him, or scare him out. She simply... gave him a choice.

But it had been too long. He didn't recognize her, neither she him... until she noticed the tail. Then she knew.

"Brian...?" she breathed, eyes growing wide.

He stared at her, nonplussed, still shivering.

"Brian, it's me. Rachel," she beckoned, her hand still in place. But he didn't move. If anything, he frowned at her. "Brian"?

And she tried everything -- talking to him soothingly; offering him a treat from her pocket. Nothing worked. Brain simply hid his face once more, willing her to go away; to leave him be; to, hopefully, not report him to the authorities if they came to call.

Rachel sighed. She sat up for a moment, thinking, and blinked. Struck with a sudden idea, she rested her hands on her lap... and began to sing....

“La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...“

Brain blinked... and lifted his head, ever so slowly....

“La la lu, La la lu, Little soft fluffy sleeper, Here comes a pink cloud for you...“

He stood up... and walked forward, right to the edge of the cabinet. She was still singing.

“La la lu, La la lu, Little wandering angel, Fold up your wings, Close your eyes...”

His mouth was fully open now, his round eyes glossy and getting ever shinier. He couldn't pull his gaze away from her face.

“La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper...

La la lu, La la lu, La la lu....”

Rachel stared at him, smiling. He had completely stepped out from under the cabinet by now, his little body trembling slightly.

"Hello, little star sweeper," Rachel whispered to him.

Breath hitching, Brain ran onto her lap, up her shirt, and clutched tightly to her chest, only a second or two going by before he felt those familiar hands hold him gently, securely.

"Oh, Brian...," she choked, kissing his head. He didn't even flinch.

"Why didn't you come back?" he asked, unable to hold back his tears.

"I couldn't," she answered honestly. "But I was able to keep an eye on you from here."

He sniffed and pulled back a little to look around the room. It was, indeed, a security office, and a fairly high end one at that, decked out with all the works.

"I'm an artist now, but in my part time I take the night shift. They at least let me come back for that, probably 'cause Jackson and Lana are gone now," she chuckled softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you this time...."

Brain looked up at her, suddenly understanding. All that time they'd never been caught; never been reported. All those months and years that the camera had simply turned a blind eye to their antics. He thought it was simply negligence. Now he knew why.

"Thank you...," Brain whispered. "And it's... Brain now."

"I know," she smiled. “I still watch tv, ya' know. I just still remember you as my 'Brian'. I'm sorry, Brain."

He couldn't help but smile. All this time....

"Come with me?" Rachel asked him.

"Where?"

"Back to my place. I'll hide you. You can have the guest room, if you'd like."

A sharp knock at the door startled them both, and she quickly ran to her desk, Brain in her hands. She lifted him up and under the desk.

"There's a hidden panel in the roof! Get in it!" she whispered to him urgently.

He found it, albeit with a little difficulty. He pushed at a little area that looked as if it had been cut into... and down shifted a small cubby in which she kept an assortment of odd bits and bobs that were probably not supposed to be in her possession -- special looking keys and badges, among other things. He slipped into it, and Rachel pushed it closed before walking over to answer the door....

Another barrage of bangs thundered at the entrance as Rachel opened it, a hand on her hip as she held the door ajar, doing her best to look as ticked off as possible.

"Sheesh! Gimme a minute to finish pouring my tea! Gosh...."

Outside stood two gentlemen, both in lab coats, looking frantic.

"Have you seen a mouse?" one of them said. He was taller and appeared to be the leader. "White. Large cranium. He was with a companion."

Rachel shrugged.

"Is that what you guys have been looking for?"

"You haven't seen them on your cameras?" the second man asked, panting a little.

Rachel shook her head.

"No, I haven't seen anything."

The men exchanged glances.

"We'd better search the place, just to make sure," the leader said, and without further ado they barged in and began searching every nook, cranny, drawer, and trash can they could. They failed to find the hidden cubby, however. "Can we ask you to roll back the footage?"

"Sure, but you're not gonna find anything," Rachel shrugged again.

They did as permitted, scrutinizing every bit of film captured within the last ten minutes. Although they managed to catch one or two glimpses of the mice leaving the lab, as expected, they couldn't find hair no hide of them on any other roll. Behind their backs, Rachel smirked. Smart little guy. Even on the run, he'd purposely made sure not to walk in the path of the cameras.

After several more minutes of scrutiny, they finally gave up, heading for the door in a huff.

"Sorry for your time. Report to us if you find anything," said the leader.

"No problem," Rachel said, shutting the door with a snap behind them and sighing deeply. Yeah, right..., she thought.

Going back to her desk, she pushed open the hidden cubby. It lowered down and Brain immediately jumped into her hand, breathing rather heavily.

"Sorry, little one," Rachel apologized. I can imagine it's pretty stuffy in there...."

He gave her a look, albeit not a very harsh one. He had no reason to complain.

She raised her hand, allowing him to jump up onto her shoulder.

"They'll be back later to go over more footage," Rachel warned, sitting down at her desk and leaning back in her chair.

"I know," Brain said, licking at his paws and smoothing out his frazzled fur.

Rachel jumped a little and stared at him.

"Heh. I forgot you guys talk now...."

"Is that a problem...?" Brain asked, a little nervously.

Rachel smiled.

"Not at all."

She reached out a hand to scratch at a spot behind his ears.

"What are you...? Ohhhh-ho-ho-ho...," Brain melted, reeling a little at first before giving way to a goofy smile and a thumping foot as he pressed into the touch.

"Still got that little sensitive spot, huh?" Rachel chuckled, her scratches evolving into a head massage.

Brain practically fell off her shoulder, Rachel catching him in her hands and raising him up to eye level, the better to get a good look at him. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. How demoralizing.... But Rachel simply beamed at him.

"You know... I really missed you."

"I... wish I could say the same...," Brain confessed, shuffling a foot. He imagined he had thought of her often, as an infant, but over time the memories simply... faded.

Rachel didn't look upset, though.

"I understand. It's okay. I still love you."

"I...," Brain began, then stopped. No. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Even with Pinky he couldn't ever admit such a thing, and he loved Pinky most of all.

"You don't have to say it. I know you do in your heart," Rachel said, and she kissed him tenderly on the top of his head.

His ears flattened as she did it, and he almost immediately smoothed out the area where she'd kissed him, but he couldn't hide the blush tickling his cheeks and ears. Her behavior was cheesy as all get out, but privately he knew she was right. He did care, even if he'd never admit it.

Just then, something, or... someone, slipped underneath the door. A white-furred, lanky somebody.

"Pinky!!" Brain yelped.

Brain leapt off of Rachel in a flash, landing hard on the floor and limping a little as he ran into Pinky's outstretched arms.

"Brain!!" Pinky shouted right back. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again!!"

He twirled him around in a circle or two before Brain became aware of what he was doing and promptly pushed himself out of Pinky's grasp, clearing his throat, once again embarrassed.

"Y-Yes, well.... I'm... glad you're safe, Pinky," Brain replied awkwardly, patting his companion on the head.

"Ohhh! Who's this, Brain?" Pinky asked, pointing up at Rachel, who still sat in her computer chair, smiling down at them both.

"Umm.... Pinky, this is Rachel. She's... an old friend."

"Nice to meet you, Pinky! I've heard a lot about you. Well, maybe not heard, but... I've seen you guys on the tv a lot!" Rachel said, beaming.

"You have?!" Pinky gasped, clasping two paws to his face in surprise. "Did you hear that, Brain? We're famous!!"

"Pinky, we've been famous many times, all of them never lasting as long as I'd like...," Brain recollected.

"Well, yes, Brain, but never to a friend!"

Rachel smiled and leaned forward a little.

"I have a proposition for you guys."

"For both of us? Is that legal, Brain?" Pinky whispered to his cage mate, looking concerned, to which Brain facepalmed.

"Proposition, Pinky, not proposal."

"Ohhhhhhhhh. Well, that's different then, isn't it?" Pinky said, nodding eagerly to Rachel.

"How would you guys like to come room at my place? Just for as long as you need until you can get off your feet."

Once again, Pinky gasped excitedly.

"Can we, Brain?!"

"Well...," Brain pondered, hesitating. The offer, though generous, made him feel rather... helpless and awkward, as if he was intruding.

"You're welcome to any of the food and stuff. I've got havarti," she smirked.

Pinky gasped again.

"Oh, please, please, please, please, pleeeeaaaaase, Brain?!?" Pinky pleaded again.

"You're... sure you wouldn't mind?" Brain asked. "I'd hate to intrude...."

"My house is yours," Rachel said genuinely. "And it comes with a pool table," she added, winking at Pinky.

Pinky was doing his utmost to contain a squeal, biting his lip and practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Brain rolled his eyes.

"Oh, all right...," he relented.

"YAAAAAY!!" exclaimed Pinky, jumping into Rachel's outstretched hand, followed by Brain, as she lifted them up onto her shoulder.

"You'll have to hide in my backpack on the way to the car," she said. "The next guy is about to swap out with me."

And she pulled her backpack up from off the floor and plopped it onto the desk, opening it up. Pinky sprung off her shoulder as if it was a diving board, plunging into the depths of the backpack, which, by all accounts, wasn't very deep. Pinky didn't seem to mind, though. He had fun "swimming" around amongst the snacks, car keys, pencils, wallet, and little sketchpad all the same. Brain simply shook his head, unable to keep a smile off his face. What an idiot.

Rachel was as good as her word. They were given the guest bedroom, along with access to the rest of the house, food included. Provided they didn't draw too much attention to themselves, they were allowed to tinker and plan all they liked within the safety of the back room, and lie low they did, for Acme Labs was on the hunt for a good number of weeks before they gave up on finding them entirely.

Pinky was quite fond of the seemingly unlimited amount of cheese available in the fridge, along with the plethora of movies Rachel had at her disposal. He was often to be found in front of the television, and if he wasn't there he was by Brain's side almost constantly. Brain was most grateful for the space in which to concoct experiments and conjure up plans for world domination, although he had to improvise more often than not, seeing as he didn't have all of the lab's equipment at his beck and call anymore. It was something he sorely missed, but he couldn't say he minded the warm bed and good food that came with their new living quarters either. It was... nice.

Once in a blue moon (which ended up being once a month), Pinky would request Lady and the Tramp for movie night, not just because he liked it, but because of Brain's unusual reaction to it. He liked to watch him subconsciously lean up against Rachel as they sat next to her, eventually breaking down into a fit of silent tears as "La La Lu" danced around the room. Sometimes Rachel would pick him up, holding him close and massaging his head as he calmed against her chest. Oftentimes, Pinky would join them, cuddling up next to Brain as they nuzzled together in Rachel's warm hands.

"I love you, Brain," Pinky would mumble sweetly, giving him an extra squeeze.

"I love you, little one," whispered Rachel, petting him softly.

I love you, too, said Brain in his own little way, holding them both just a tiny bit tighter, a smile creeping its way up onto his face. It was nice, being loved....

~ I love you, too. ~

The End

-------------

The ending of this is meant to be sort of an alternate to Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain. What if they'd ended up there after running away from Acme instead of at Elmyra's?

I didn’t realize until after writing this that it makes no sense for Rachel to be cool with Brain talking one minute, only to be surprised by it the next. It’s a glaring error on my part, but I left it in as a reminder to myself that I need to be more careful. Lol.

Technically, this whole thing is a self-insert, although the name of the girl is not my real name. It’s actually the cognomen of my very first rat. Ha-ha. But the personality of the character is me -- how I talk; act around animals; and most likely what I’d do if put into this situation. The exception is the chase scene. I don’t think I’d act that... panicked? Who knows, though....

This is kind of a way I show compassion for Brain, seeing as I cannot, of course, give him an actual hug. I love Brain more than any other fictional character I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching on screen. It’s not a romantic love or anything. Certainly not. It’s more... maternal. The desire to love and protect is strong. That combination of: individual with a tragic backstory + laboratory setting + main character who happens to be a mouse = the perfect concoction to turn my heart to mush. I owned rats for many years and have a great love for animals, and tend to get attached to certain fictional characters, so here you have the result. He’d be as averse as ever to physical affection, but if I could hold Brain in my hands, plant a kiss on his head, and tell him he’s loved. I would. Thank God for Pinky.

[neuvis]

all of them for julius and ainoqres (^:

BOY OH BOY

A: Aptitude1. what are your oc’s natural abilities, things they’ve been doing since young?

Julius | Shadow magic, his strength/speed, and thinking quick

Ainoqres | Traditional magic, Serian, critical thinking, and noticing even the smallest of details.

2. what activities have they participated in?

THIS IS SO VAGUE

Julius | Soccer? Stealing? Killing?

Ainoqres | School clubs relating to traditional magic, and uh...war?

3. what abilities do they have that they’ve worked for?

The strength of their magics. 

Julius | Cooking and patience

Ainoqres | Sewing

4. what things are they bad at?

Julius | Being patient (in the beginning), watching his language, and not generalising groups of people 

Ainoqres | Understanding others’ feelings in general

5. what is their most impressive talent?

Julius | Either his physical strength or his cooking

Ainoqres | Being able to use both traditional magic and elemental magic

B: Basics1. what is their hair color?

Julius | White

Ainoqres | Black

2. what is their eye color?

Julius | Gold

Ainoqres | Purple

3. how tall are they?

Julius | 6′2″ ish

Ainoqres | 6′11″ or so

4. how old are they?

Julius | 24ish

Ainoqres | ?????

5. how much do they weigh?

Julius | Somewhere in the 200s because of his height and muscle

Ainoqres | ??????

C: Comfort1. how do they sit in a chair?

Julius | His legs a bit wide and his elbows on his knees 

Ainoqres | Legs crossed and back straight

2. in what position do they sleep?

Julius switches between his back and his sides

Ainoqres sleeps on his sides

3. what is their ideal comfort day?

Julius | Warm sunny day, eating his own food, quiet in the house, sunbathing on a rock.  

Ainoqres | Sleeping all day in a cool and humid room.

4. what is their major comfort food? why?

Julius | Potatoes stuffed with other foods because his mother used to make them for him all the time

Ainoqres | Sheep meat with chili and god knows why

5. who is the best at comforting them when down?

Julius | Eises

Ainoqres | Evina

D: Decoration1. how would they decorate a house if they had one under their name?

Julius’ would have a sleek and modern look to it with all the updated technology. Lots of white furniture too. Not fully decorated but not entirely minimalistic either. 

Ainoqres’ would prefer that wooden furniture decorated look, so wooden shelves and tables here and there. He’d probably have paintings of landscapes too. 

2. how would they decorate their child’s room?

I’m gonna go with young child

Julius | A room with lots of space and areas to put whatever posters said kid would want. Probably some shelves and what not so the child has a place to put their toys. It would also have a stand with a modern tv.

Ainoqres | Paint it a colour that the child wants.. Would put a window on it, and of course, more wooden decorations like shelves and a table.

3. how do they decorate their own room?

Well neither of them have a permanent home and are always on the move, so they can’t really decorate it at all.

4. what type of clothes and accessories do they wear?

Julius really loves formal clothing like button ups and dress pants, but he also really loves sweaters with jeans. He has a thing for trenchcoats too. He likes it when they have colours that contrast his skin colour. He also has an earring on his right ear.

Ainoqres prefers darker coloured clothes with no sleeves.Belts too even if he doesn’t need it. He always wears a mask that only covers his lower half of his face just for the heck of it.

5. do they like makeup/nail/beauty trends?

Julius is fine with it even though he doesn’t really follow them. Ainoqres knows nothing about current trends.

E: External Personality1. does the way they do things portray their internal personality?

Oh goodness yes to both

2. do they do things that conform to the norm?

Nope to both

3. do they follow trends or do their own thing?

They do their own thing

4. are they up-to-date on the internet fads?

Nope 

5. do they portray their personality intentionally or let people figure it out on their own?

Julius does the former and Ainoqres does the latter

F: Fun1. what do they do for fun?

They both like to read. Julius really loves to fight too

2. what is their ideal party?

For Julius it’s probably just jokes and alcohol. 

Ainoqres??? Party ???

3. who would they have the most fun with?

Julius | Eises

Ainoqres | ??? Aluxymo ??

4. can they have fun while conforming to rules?

Sort of

5. do they go out a lot?

They both kind of have to

G: Gorgeous1. what is their most attractive external feature?

Eyes for both

2. what is the most attractive part of their personality?

Julius | His inner sweetheart

Ainoqres | How he keeps his cool ?

3. what benefits come with being their friend?

Good food, protection, and laughs

4. what parts of them do they like and dislike?

Julius really hates his temper and is mixed about his stubbornness. 

Ainoqres likes how he keeps his cool and how mysterious he comes off. He really hates his past.

5. what parts of others do they envy?

Julius | Having money and patience

Ainoqres | Having a normal life and being able to understand how others feel

H: Heat1. do they rather a hot or cold room?

Julius | Hot

Ainoqres | Cold

2. do they prefer summer or winter?

Julius | Summer

Ainoqres | Winter

3. do they like the snow?

Julius doesn’t but Ainoqres does

4. do they have a favorite summer activity?

Julius loves to sunbathe and Ainoqres loves to dip into the river

5. do they have a favorite winter activity?

Julius  likes to bundle up in blankets and have hot cocoa and Ainoqres secretly loves snowball fights and making ice sculptures

I: In-the-closet1. what is their sexuality?

Julius is straight, Ainoqres is bi

2. have they ever questioned their sexuality?

Nope

3. have they ever questioned their gender?

Nope

4. would/was their family be okay with them being LGBT?

Julius’ would be if he was, Ainoqres’ wouldn’t be

5. how long would/did it take for them to come out?

Ainoqres never really felt a reason to come out until he met Pravis :3c 

J: Joy1. what makes them happy?

Just being around the Mulidais ;w; Also food

2. who makes them happy?

...the Mulidais xP

3. are there any songs that bring them joy?

They dont really listen to music

4. are they happy often?

Not at first but slowly they become happier

5. what brings them the most joy in the world?

Just!!! The Mulidais !!! And seeing where the groups is now compared to how they were before the group formed

K: Kill1. have they ever thought about suicide?

Ainoqres has frequently 

2. have they ever thought about homicide?

They’ve both done it already 

3. if they could kill anyone without punishment, would they? who?

They already have and now they want to kill Vantis

4. who would miss them if they died?

The whole Mulidais ;w;

5. who would be happy they died, anyone?

I mean a lot of the enemy groups would

L: Lemons1. what is their favorite fruit?

Julius loves melons of any kind and Ainoqres is a cherry man 

2. what is their least favorite fruit?

Julius hates watermelon and Ainoqres really doesn’t like grapes

3. are there any foods they hate?

Julius generally doesn’t like sour foods and Ainoqres mostly doesn’t care

4. do they have any food intolerances?

Nope

5. what is their favorite food?

Julius is a fan of anything spicy

Ainoqres likes any kind of bird smothered in pistra sauce with a side of veggies

M: Maternal1. would they want a daughter or a son?

Both ;v;

2. how many children do they want?

At least 2

3. would they be a good parent?

By the end of the story both of them would

How they are now, sort of?

4. what would they name a son? what would they name a daughter?

Julius would name his son Sebastian and his daughter would be Maria

For Ainoqres... ???!!! Something as elaborate as his name god

5. would they adopt?

Julius wouldn’t mind

Ainoqres hasn’t officially adopted by law but he might as well have when it comes to everyone in the Mulidais

N: Never Have I Ever1. what would they never do?

Not counting the obvious abuse

Julius | Skydiving

Ainoqres | ???? God that’s a good question

2. what have they never done that they want to do?

Julius | Explore underground desert caves

Ainoqres | Fly in the sky during the dragon festival with the other dragons

3. is there anything they absolutely can’t believe people do?

Julius | Skydiving

Ainoqres | I don’t think he’s surprised at anything people do at this point

4. what is the most embarrassing thing they’ve done?

Julius | Tripping into a garbage bin

Ainoqres | He refuses to say who knows

5. have they done anything they thought they’d never do?

Julius | Befriend men

Ainoqres | Everything in the current story oh my god

O: Optimism1. are they optimistic or pessimistic?

Julius is a mix of both but Ainoqres is optimistic 

2. are they openly optimistic, throwing it on others?

Not openly

3. are they good at giving advice?

Julius is. Ainoqres sort of is but in a tough way that doesn’t kick in at first.

4. is there anyone in their life that throws optimism on them?

Evina and Maurice

5. were they always optimistic?

Ainoqres used to be pretty pessimistic 

P: Personality1. what is their best personality trait?

Julius | His humour maybe or his inner sweetheart

Ainoqres | His wisdom probably 

2. what is their worst personality trait?

Julius | His temper

Ainoqres | His brutality ?

3. what of their personality do others love?

That they tell things how it is but also try to act tough and scary despite being a real big softie inside

4. what of their personality do others envy?

How emotionally strong they both are

5. do they hate anything about their personality/about other’s personalities?

Julius doesn’t like his temper and he hates guys that are cocky and look for a fight for no reason

Ainoqres despises people that are just plain evil

Q: Questions1. do they ask for help?

At first neither of them did but eventually they do

2. do they ask questions in class?

Ainoqres did, Julius didn’t go to school

3. do they answer questions that make them a little uncomfortable?

Yeah

4. do they ask weird questions?

Julius doesn’t usually but Ainoqres always does

5. are they curious?

Ye

R: Rules1. do they follow rules?

Depends on the rule

2. would they be a strict or laid-back parent?

Julius would be in between and Ainoqres is a bit strict

3. have they ever been consequenced for breaking a rule?

Oh god yes

4. have they broken any rules they now regret breaking?

Yeah :(

5. do they find any rules they/others follow absolutely ridiculous?

Of course

S: Streets1. are they street-smart?

Yeah

2. would they give money to someone on the streets?

Probably not

3. have they ever gotten in a fight on the streets?

Julius has tons of times, Ainoqres only did once to beat up Julius

4. has anything happened to them on the streets?

Bad things sure

5. are they cautious when out?

Very

T: Truth1. are they honest?

Yes

2. can they tell if someone is lying?

Usually

3. is it obvious when they’re lying?

Not at all

4. have they lied about anything they regret lying about?

Not really

5. have they told truths that have been spread against their will?

Sort of

U: Underdog1. have they been bullied?

Julius has

2. have they bullied anyone?

...Julius has

3. have they been physically attacked by a bully?

.....Julius has

4. have they ever been doubted?

Tons of times

5. have they surprised people with being good at something?

No one expects Julius to be good at cooking nor Ainoqres to sew in the first place

V: Vomit

what the fuck

1. do they vomit often?

Nope

2. do they get lots of stomach aches?

No

3. are they good at comforting someone ill?

Julius is

4. what do they like as far as comfort goes?

what does this mean

5. do they burp, cough, or hiccup most when nauseous? when vomiting?

Cough??

W: Water1. do they drink enough water?

Oh sure

2. have they learned to swim?

Both have

3. do they like to swim?

Of course

4. can they dive?

Yeah

5. can they swim without holding their nose?

Yep

X: Xylophone1. what is their favorite genre of music?

They both love jazz and swing

2. do they have a favorite song?

Probably not

3. do they have a favorite band/artist/singer?

Most likely

4. can they sing well?

Surprisingly 

5. can they rap?

Julius might 

Y: You

1. how old were you when you created them?

Julius | 15

Ainoqres | 10/11

2. what inspired you to create them?

Ok with Julius I used to rp young Walter in a touhou crossover rp but later on he sort of of became really ooc especially with the backstory I had going on. I still liked the ideas in general though so I decided to just make an oc for all those ideas and leave Walter at peace.

I can’t remember what inspired me to make Ainoqres but a big part of finalising his character came from making a polar opposite to my former oc Serqonia back in like 2011

3. were they different when they were first created?

Goodness yes

4. do you enjoy writing them more than other characters?

Depends on what other characters but Julius is pretty fun while Ainoqres is kind of hard but very interesting once I actually pull him off

5. what’s your favorite thing about them?

God I love everything about both of them you can’t just make me choose

Z: Zebra1. what’s their favorite animal?

Julius loves salamanders while Ainoqres has a soft spot for Torraqas, which is this small black fuzzy animal

 2. do they like animals?

Oh sure

3. cats or dogs?

Cats

4. what’s their dream pet?

Pretty much their favourite animals

5. do they have any pets at the moment?

Julius has a dog named Cake

[adjudicxtor]

In-depth Character Sheet

Credit to Sir Ender at this writing forum.

Reblog or repost. DO NOT remove credit.

TAGGED BY: @actuallymuffet

TAGGING: Whomever wants to do this

(Note: This is a mix of my personal headcanon as well as canon. It’s also long ashell and going under a read more.

This also has references to Hive City/Citta Alveare as well as his original canon. Anything talking about Ian Yorkland is Citta Specific! (For now.)

Also, I ended up being lazy in parts of this. Whoops.)

FULL NAME: Peter White MEANING: His surname comes from the fact that he’s the White Rabbit. NICKNAME: Pety, Peta-chan (Pierce), Rabbit (Everyone else), shit rabbit (Alice) MEANING: Derivatives of his name and/or role coupled with insults. AGE: 18-23, though I Have him set as 23 BIRTHDAY: September 5th (Headcanon; in canon he doesn’t have a bday) ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Virgo (See above) GENDER: Male ALLERGIES: TBA SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Bi and ace (largely unknown to him) THEME SONG(S): Song of Love (Character song)

APPEARANCE HAIR COLOR: White/Silver HAIR STYLE AND LENGTH: Short and at chin length. EYES COLOR: Scarlet red. HEIGHT: 175-185cm WEIGHT: TBA OUTFIT/CLOTHING STYLE: Red checkered pattern jacket/coat, pink shirt, brown slacks, red socks and brown shoes with red soles. Buttons on jacket and sleeves are done as tiny clocks; red tie with a clock design on it, though the clock is backwards; has a pink arm band on one of the arms of his coat; frame less glasses. His style is that of a high ranking government official/something loosely based off of the original White Rabbit clothes design as well as having an intellectual appearance. DISTINGUISHING MARKS(SCARS,MOLES): None. All wounds and scars heal after a time period or two. SELF CARE(MAKE UP): He wears none. FIRST IMPRESSION ON PEOPLE: “He gives me chills/Why is he so cold/Why is he a murderous asshole?” SKIN COLOR: White? BODY TYPE/BUILD: Surprisingly well built despite coming off as lean. DEFAULT EXPRESSION: A neutral, blank expression; sometimes he scowls while looking at his surroundings with a cold, distant gaze. POSTURE: Standing upright and proper. PIERCINGS: None. DESCRIBE THEIR VOICE: Very formal but not deep? His voice is high pitched in rabbit form though.

RELATIONSHIPS MOM: Murdered/dead. HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Not well since Peter murdered her. DAD: Same fate as his mother. HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Same as with his mother. SIBLINGS: Same fate as their parents. HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Same as with their parents. CHILDREN: N/A HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: N/A PAST LOVER(S): Alice, though she as never his lover. CURRENT LOVER: Ian Yorkland (Citta); no one yet (indie) REACTION TO MEETING SOMEONE NEW: Disinterest and disgust. Could care less. ABILITY TO WORK WITH OTHERS: ...depends on the person, but really he prefers to work alone because he hates everyone else. However, he can work with others if he absolutely has to. LEAST FAVORITE TYPE OF PERSON: Anyone like Blood Dupre, to be honest. I am way too lazy for this meme. PARENTAL TYPE(PROTECTIVE,ETC): Strict and protective; at times overbearing but genuinely does care. Needs his partner to pull him back into line and be more gentle.

PERSONALITY ..WHEN YOU FIRST MEET THEM: Cold, uncaring, aloof, distant, lonely; when Alice meets him he’s the exact opposite, almost. ..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY LIKE YOU): Complex, narrow minded, affectionate, lost, not in tune with his emotions/has very low emotional intelligence; loyal, clingy, excitable, happy ..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY DISLIKE YOU): First meeting x 100 that results in murder/death, possibly. Pure hatred. FAVORITE COLOR: Red (But with checkered print!) FAVORITE FOOD: Anything with mushrooms. Also mushrooms. FAVORITE ANIMAL: …himself? He doesn’t have a favourite. FAVORITE ELEMENT: None. LEAST FAVORITE COLOR: None. LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: None. LEAST FAVORITE ANIMAL: Cats and dogs, but he generally hates other animals so... HOBBIES: Learning about his partner/lover in order to better understand them. USUAL MOOD: Neutral/uncaring? DRINK/SMOKE/DRUGS: None, none, and none.

DARK VERSION OF SELF: N/A

LIGHT VERSION OF SELF: N/A HOW SERIOUS ARE THEY: Very serious, especially about those he loves. Tends to treat everything seriously, and take everything seriously to boot. CLASS IN AN RPG: N/A BELIEVE IN GHOSTS: Nah. (IN)DEPENDENT: Very independent. VULNERABILITY: Being alone/abandoned/discarded by those he loves; showing/expressing any sort of feeling because he doesn’t understand them and they are scary as hell to him. OPINION ON SWEARING: Crude and befitting a lower class. However, he has sworn on occasion, but it is rare. DAREDEVIL VS CAUTIOUS: Cautious. He doesn’t let his guard down for a moment. MUSIC TYPE: Classical (probably?) /No music preference MOVIE TYPE: He has none BOOK TYPE: Anything pertaining to work or understanding his love interest/partner COMFORTABLE TEMPERATURE: upper teens, celsius SLEEPING PATTERN: He tends to sleep during the night periods, though most nights not very well. He’ll sleep on his side but tosses and turns. While he technically does not need sleep, he tries to be as rested as he can. He can’t really sleep well due to his thoughts and his inability to turn his mind off. CLEANLINESS/NEATNESS: Very clean, very organized. DESIRED PET: None. HOW DO THEY PASS TIME: Work. BIGGEST SECRET: He is Alice’s Sunday Afternoons/is the period of time that she loved above all else. HERO/WHO THEY LOOK UP TO: N/A WHAT ANIMAL WOULD THEY BE: N/A COMFORTS: Clean/fresh space (bedroom, living room, office, etc.), his lover/partner, affectionate gestures from said lover/partner.

HOW DO THEY REACT TO… DANGER: He basically gives no shits because, to many, he is the danger. He does not see anything as really dangerous because it’s all a part of the norm for him. However, he will be cautious if it’s something/someone he would struggle against. SOMEONE THEY HATE WHO HAS A CRUSH ON THEM: He’ll straight up attempt to kill them, alongside displaying as much revulsion and disgust as he possibly can. PROPOSAL TO MARRY: Complete shock and disbelief, followed by intense happiness once it all sinks in. (If it does because lbr here it takes him a while on the emotions thing.) DEATH OF LOVED ONE: Intense Despair and self blame. DIFFICULT GAME/MATH/ETC: He can get impatient and frustrated very quickly. Depending on what it is he will either not stop until he gets it, or he will brush/pawn it off onto someone else. INJURY: Could care less if he’s injured and will keep pressing forward. He took a deep slash to the back in his manga and was still able to stand upright and showed very little sign of discomfort or pain. His injuries back in Wonderland also heal within a time period or two, so he’s not really bothered by such things. SOMETHING IRRESISTIBLY CUTE: Fawns over and clings to it, which is what he does with Alice. However, he rarely, if ever finds anything cute (except Alice) so this really doesn’t apply to him.

HISTORY 

BIOGRAPHY: Peter is the White Rabbit, as well as the prime minister of the Castle of Hearts and the Country of Hearts. He lives in the castle with his superior, the Queen of Hearts whom he serves as second in command (ear piece for the queen, servant, etc etc.) as well as the Knight/Knave of Hearts, Ace whom works under Peter. A number of faceless maids and soldiers live there as well.

He peeked into a period of time on a whim one day and found Alice, whose feelings of sadness and regret captivated him. He also took notice of the Sunday Afternoons she spent with her sister, which were a precious, treasured time. He could feel Alice’s affection and love for this time period, and before he knew it he found himself watching over her and visiting her often. By loving this time, Alice had come to love Peter himself, who was an embodiment of that time though she did not know it. 

Watching over her, Peter saw some of what went on in her life, including Lorina’s death and the effect it had on Alice. He also saw that the time they shared was close to ending, so h needed to act fast. Peter went to Nightmare and asked for his help in bringing Alice to their world, which he agreed to. Between the both of them, Peter was able to take Alice down the rabbit hole and give her the Medicine of Heart, which bound her to the game that would eventually (or hopefully) bind her to their world. He did this because he wanted her happiness, even though it meant that she would have to ultimately reject and discard him. For her to truly be happy means to integrate herself into Wonderland, and to do this she needs to cut all ties with her world. Peter, embodying her Sunday Afternoons as well as the love she had for her sister is one such tie.

Despite all of this, Peter still tries to win over her love and affection, most times with mixed or negative results, because he doesn’t learn and lets his emotions and feelings carry him away.

(Note that from here I get into stuff that applies to Citta only things).

Eventually he ended up in a place called Hive City, and despite Peter being, well Peter, he managed to make friends and find himself a boyfriend while enduring a bunch of messed up shit and slowly changing, hopefully for the better. He still murders people with little to no provocation though. FIRST APPEARANCE: Heart no Kuni no Alice (Game); Alice in the country of Hearts manga by Hoshino.

KNOWLEDGE LANGUAGES: English  SCHOOLING LEVEL: Wonderland doesn’t have a school so he is probably self taught. FAVORITE SUBJECT (S): N/A INTERESTED CAREERS: He’s the prime minister of the Country of Hearts, second to Her Majesty the Queen of Hearts. EXPERTISE: Expert marksman, well versed in swordsmanship and hand to hand combat; well versed in politics, well read in some areas. CHEMISTRY: N/A MATH: Knows a bit above the basics/knows the math necessary for his job. LANGUAGE: Very eloquent speaker; excellent writer GEOGRAPHY: He is well versed in the geography of Hearts and Clover due to the three way territory war that is going on. POLITICS/LAW: He’s a prime minister, so needless to say he is well versed in this area. Hell, he enforces laws, collects taxes, does all the paperwork needed to go govern an entire country as well as a large as hell territory. COOKING: He’s fairly good, but by no means an expert. Taught himself to cook because he does not trust other people making his food for him (could be filled with poison or germs or something). MECHANICS: N/A BOTANY (FLOWERS): He thinks they are filthy things and makes it a point not to go near or touch them. He knows how to identify them but he doesn’t use them for anything. MYTHOLOGY: N/A DRAMATICS(ACTING,SINGING): He has a character song so he can sing; he doesn’t act but he can be quite dramatic when it comes to Alice in that his actions and words are over the top and over exaggerated. 

READING LEVEL: High. It needs to be for his job. HOW GOOD ARE THEY AT PLANNING AHEAD: Peter is a very cunning, shrewd individual who is never caught with his guard down. Therefore, his planning is as meticulous as his organization. He makes sure to hammer out every detail and as many possible outcomes as he can.

ROMANCE . DO THEY TAKE INITIATIVE: Depends on who it is. With Alice he took the initiative, but only because he got swept up in feelings he fully didn’t understand. With Ian he prefers to have the other take the initiative until he is comfortable to do so himself. HOW DO THEY ACT(SHY,ETC): Again depends on who it is, and who is showing affection. If it’s Alice, he’s very forward and confident, freely expressing affection without a care as to who is watching. If Alice is showing him affection, he tends to get shy and skittish, almost as if he wants to run away.

With Ian Peter is quite reserved and shy, as well as easily flustered. Since they are just in the beginning stages of the relationship, I can’t expand upon this more than I already have at this time. GENTLEMAN/LADYLIKE VS KLUTZY: Gentlemen like. GO SLOW VS JUMP INTO: With Alice he attempted to jump right into things, which did not go well. I think that he would prefer and actually benefit from taking things slow, especially since he has difficulty with understanding feelings and emotions. Taking things slow gives him a chance to work everything out and develop a deeper, more natural bond of love between him and his partner. (By natural I mean not the type of obsessive love he shows in the games.) PROTECTIVE: He is very protective of those he loves, and will even go as far as murdering someone who is harassing/making his lover uncomfortable. You mess with his lover and Peter will kill you. ACT LIKE FRIENDS OR LOVERS: Depends on who it is. With Peter he tried to act romantic towards Alice, but since he didn’t understand his feelings he straddles the line between friends and lovers. Personally he would make a better friend for her than a lover.

Also in general he’ll start out as a friend but move into lover territory. He is friends first, however. WHAT KIND OF PRESENTS DO THEY BUY: Peter tries to buy things that his lover/partner likes, and is dependent upon said partner/lover.  TYPE OF KISSER: Surprisingly good, albeit a bit clumsy and forceful at first. DO THEY WANT KIDS: Not really, but if his partner does then he will give in to make them happy. DO THEY WANT TO MARRY: Eventually yes, but it’s too soon for that. MAKE GOOD OR BAD DECISIONS: Depends. Some of his decisions are good, but only after truly listening to his partner and taking their words to heart (Alice). Most of the time he makes bad decisions because, again, he doesn’t listen. He needs to be given explanations as to why his decisions are bad, from which he will strive to learn and do better.

Education is necessary with this bun. ARE THEY ROMANTIC: Very. HOW ARE THEY IN BED: Peter is a virgin, so N/A. GET JEALOUS EASY: Oh hell yes, and if not restrained it can get nasty. WIFE/HUBBY BEATER: Hell no. MARRY FOR MONEY: Absolutely not. FAVORITE SEX POSITION: N/A WHAT WOULD HAPPEN ON THEIR DREAM DATE: Basically anything involving his lover/partner giving him affection and accepting his. Bonus points for his love for his partner being accepted and returned. OPINION ON SEX: “There are germs involved so eeewww. However, if you desire it, I will endure it for you!”

[jira-chii]

Reflection on Devotion

Hello my sister finally convinced me to watch a play-through of Devotion, a Taiwanese horror game with absolutely stellar visual storytelling.

I don't normally enjoy horror games but I made an exception for Devotion, because I had previously seen Detention (the other game by Red Candle), and I loved it. However it completely blew my mind how much better Devotion was, visually and conceptually. Like, I legit did not think they would have been able to top Detention. And they did. And it was so impressive I had to write about it. So here we are.

The first half of this post will be spoiler-free, because I definitely don't want to spoil this game. Unfortunately, Devotion was taken off Steam for (imo really dumb) political reasons but I highly recommend seeing a play-through of it or something, because I seriously want everyone to experience its story before reading this.

I have no qualms about spoiling Detention though so we'll start from there. (They're not really spoilers though, because it's been a while and I don't remember most of the details).

One of the things I remember loving about Detention was the integration of the school setting with the personal family setting. At one point we are suddenly dragged into a representation of the main character's house, making the fear feel uncomfortably close. I loved this because the game was now able to mix the “familiar” with the surreal, in an even more effective manner than with the school. Furthermore, it gave us new insights into the main character by showing us facets of their life from a new and more empathetic perspective.

And now we have a game completely “devoted” to this concept. Hooray.

Devotion (and Detention to a lesser extent), uses an unconventional type of horror in that it relies less on jump scares and shocking, gory scenarios, and more on atmosphere and a mysterious story. This subtle type of horror is more typically seen in Asian countries than Western ones, and the result is that immediately, it might not feel as heart-poundingly terrifying, but it leaves you with very disturbing thoughts, that get scarier the more you think about them, and don't leave your mind for a very, very long time.

I'm gonna say it now but Devotion is 10x more scary if you're an Asian with traditional family values, because the situations are so relatable.

The game revolves around a family of three. Using limited settings and a limited amount of characters, the storytelling feels compact yet at the same time is able to delve into multiple perspectives.

The other cool thing is that Devotion's horror is not an external, unknown threat. It is about a series of events, that permeate every aspect of gameplay, but by the end there are relatively few mysteries. That said, at one point it becomes very clear what happened. But we can't do anything about it. Which is terrifying and possibly all too relatable for some people.

There are waaay too many elements to analyse in this game, so I'm going to narrow it down by focusing on one idea, namely the one of Family. This also gives me a chance to talk about all three of my favourite scenes in the game:

The Arowana fish tank

The Storybook scene

Reducing stress with marbles

*SPOILERS* start here if it wasn't obvious.

The game's title screen shows the three main characters in a family portrait. Father and husband Du Feng Yu is a screenplay writer, his wife Gong Li Fang is a retired singer-turned movie actress, and their daughter Mei Xin wants to grow up to be a superstar just like mum.

The picture hangs above the living room sofa opposite the TV, and that space is like the embodiment of all the values of the dad, Feng Yu. Interestingly, this title screen image is taken from the perspective of Mei Xin's bedroom, and seems to mirror a scene in the game where she peeks at you from said bedroom.

Anyway my point is the title screen very clearly shows that family is the focus of the game. So I'm going to talk about each of the family members.

Mei Xin is definitely the character I relate to the most. She constantly pops up in the game, and is represented by a doll, which is the perfect symbol because even though she looks creepy to the player, she actually won't hurt you, and is more manipulated by the people around her than anything else.

Mei Xin is in fact powerless to do anything on her own, a concept which is taken to its literal limits in the fish tank scene where you actually have to press the buttons to make her move. From the arowana’s perspective, we see Mei Xin going about her day, revealing things to the fish she wouldn't dare reveal to her parents. As a fish in a tank, you also get a good feel for how trapped Mei Xin feels, being unable to go to school, and even being denied her promised trip to Alishan.

Mei Xin hates being in the house and she hates taking her medicine. It doesn't seem fair that she has to listen to her parents when they lied to her. She ends up dumping the medicine in the fish tank, and as we look up, we see the deadly pills slowly fall toward us. Unable to escape, the fish can only watch as death approaches, which is a metaphorical foreshadowing of Mei Xin's fate as well.

Can I also just mention, Feng Yu bought that fish to bring the family prosperity and fortune, so it's super ironic that Mei Xin was the one who killed it. It's a really neat metaphor for the relationship between the father and daughter. Feng Yu thinks spending more money will fix the family but materialistic goods could never be a substitute for real affection.

Mei Xin is probably the biggest victim in the feud between her father and mother. It is heartbreaking to see her inner thoughts in her journal. Though it is not explicitly stated, it is not hard to see how she herself might feel guilty about her parents’ fighting. After all, their financial situation is partly due to her father doing everything he can to cure her illness. I appreciate the marble scene in making Mei Xin's anxiety apparent. If you don't use the marbles to distract Mei Xin, huge mouths begin to overlap the screen and her vision becomes more chaotic, making it very obvious that the source of her stress is her parents fighting. Here I also have to commend the superb voice acting. Listening to the parents arguing in the background very near gave me PTSD as they sounded so similar to my own parents.

As mentioned before, it is ironic that, even though both parents are doing everything they can to help their daughter out of love and devotion, they don't realise the thing she truly needs is their physical presence. That's why the storybook scene absolutely killed me.

In a rare moment of genuine father-daughter interaction, we get to experience reading Mei Xin's favourite book. Literally. First of all, I love this scene because of the visuals. We go inside the storybook and the way they've created this huge change in tone is incredibly imaginative and a welcome break from the creepy apartment we've been trapped in the whole time. Perhaps in a similar way, this is how Mei Xin escapes her depressing reality too.

So on top of having nice visuals, and a semi- decent story, this scene is important because it actually shows Mei Xin and her father having quality time together. And it even emphasises their bond by having us experience the changes Mei Xin makes to the book as a result of the conversations she has with her father, which is really cute and sweet but also just the best way of showing why this book is her “favourite”. Towards the end, we find out the book's core message is about the love a daughter has for her father, and the lengths she will go to because of that love. Plus that extra touch with the tulips at the end is just breathtakingly beautiful, a huge contrast to almost everything else in this horror game.

I have heard a theory that the true meaning of devotion in this game isn't that of Feng Yu’s devotion to his daughter, but of Mei Xin's devotion to her father. The hint is in the lyrics of the song she performs, Lady of the Pier, which was also her mother's debut song. I guess that's the beauty of a title like this. There can be so many different interpretations and the creators really maximise the possibilities of each.

As an added bonus, Mei Xin means beautiful heart.

Gong Li Fang is probably the most underappreciated character in this game. I honestly have so much respect for her. It took courage to sacrifice everything she had built up to become a housewife and support the family. That's her devotion to her family. But when everything goes pear shaped suddenly everything also seems to conspire against her. The message she gets from her own mother is particularly scarring. Li Fang wants to leave the relationship but her mother tells her not to. Instead of supporting her own daughter's wellbeing, Li Fang's mother wants her to grin and bear it in order to save face. This was, of course, the norm in the 80s, but it is still painful to see a once highly successful woman struggle against the patriarchy.

Another scene that really gets me is the welcoming ceremony? I forget the name. There is a list we find, of strict instructions regarding the mountain load of things the wife had to prepare before guests arrived for what was essentially a housewarming party. Sometimes the superstitions really go overboard. Could you imagine going from a famous movie star to that? Li Fang is portrayed as a demon in the game, but honestly I don't blame her. Du thinks she is possessed, but truthfully he is just blind to what she really needs.

The elevator scene shows this best I think. Following what is possibly the most frightening chase scene in the entire game, we enter the elevator. As the doors close, Li Fang's demonic face has changed to one showing her loss and desperation, as she lays pitifully on the floor, watching helplessly as the doors close in her face. Maybe she was actually looking to us for help, but instead we ran from her.

As we stew alone uncomfortably with that knowledge in the claustrophobic space, we hear the radio. Li Fang has decided to return to her career. Naturally the radio announcer asks about this news in relation to how her husband reacted.

Coming out of the elevator, look behind and we see her in the moment she gathers the courage to leave. Her silhouette against the elevator light is ethereal and beautiful. Wearing the qi pao her husband hated, she walks step by elegant step away from the household that has caused her so much pain. Her stance implies she is defiant and confident, but of course that's because we never see her face.

Li Fang leaving has huge ramifications for the rest of the family, and I bet it definitely created a heap of problems for herself. Leaving her husband will basically be seen as a scandal and her career going forward is going to be rocky. Oh, also she'll probably be disowned by her family. Plus she never sees her daughter again. But in that moment I just felt so proud of her.

Du Feng Yu is the main perspective the story is told through. The core concept around him is blindness. Near the start of the game, graffitied onto the wall outside the apartment is a sentence: why are you closing your eyes? Incidentally, my sister at this moment was covering her eyes to avoid any jumpscares. I now know this message had a far deeper meaning.

The disjointed way Feng Yu sees things as he pieces together all the things in the past that culminated in the tragic present makes a great premise for horror. Things like people knocking on doors, hospital beds, sudden phone calls, and even a huge bath of red liquid are eventually all explained through the story.

In my opinion, psychological horror honestly makes for the best horror. It is eerily surreal when the realistic setting of the apartment is overlaid with mental representations of people and events. Even worse when they move.

The repetitive setting also means when we see something other than their apartment, it leaves a lasting impression. For me that was the bath scene, which became worse when I thought back after the end of the game and realised we basically experienced what Mei Xin did...

Each of the family members is tragic in their own way. Mei Xin because she dies without being able to do anything. Li Fang because she is forced to choose between herself and her family. And Feng Yu because he basically did the opposite to Li Fang. He continued to hurt himself, sacrificing himself financially and spiritually. He only wants the best for his child, but is unaware he's going about it the wrong way. He was too stubborn and self absorbed in his own worries to see the other factors tearing the family apart. And I don't blame him. It's not easy for him either. As the man of the house he is expected to hold it together. His wife gave up her career so he is the sole breadwinner. The pressure must be intense. The sad thing is situations like these are all too common.

Finally I kind of want to list some of the reasons I personally find this game so relatable. If you have zero interest in my life, feel free to skip the rest, and also thank you for reading up to now.

The size of the following list probably explains why the game resonated so strongly with me. I will admit first off that I am not Taiwanese and I have not been brought up in the most traditional Asian household. A lot of these similarities are also pure coincidences. That said, this kind of horror capitalises on the player’s familiarity with the setting, and I hope these vignettes of my own experiences help to convey just what that means for me. Because of course it’s terrifying when you realise just how similar your own family is to the main characters in a horror game. 

Devotion starts with the family portrait title screen. This probably isn’t a Asian-only thing but we also have one. It’s hung in the dining room. Asian families love taking family photos. There are even special studios just for it. I appreciate the game drawing a link to the importance of photos and memories using the camera. Incidentally, my dad also used to be a photographer. But he only knows how to use the old ones with film. Digital cameras sadden him.

All Asian kids play the piano. Unfortunately, unlike Mei Xin I have no fond memories of our piano at all. Barely anyone plays it now and it’s basically just a status symbol at this point (it’s a grand piano).

On that note, I would like to make it clear we are not a rich family, but Dad loves giving off the appearance that we are. Grand piano, chandelier, and most recently, a finger print scanner for our front door. What a waste of money, all for the sake of maintaining face. There could be a deeper meaning to it though. Dad immigrated from a very poor part of China, so when he got the opportunity he made sure nobody would ever look down on him again.

Like Feng Yu, lately Dad is not earning much money from work. This is actually because of age though. He does physical labour and nowadays he can't take on as much as he used to. Luckily mum and I still work. That said, dad does zero housework.

Dad’s spot is also the sofa in front of the TV. He also eats dinner there. Even though we have a dining room...

We have a fish tank. For the same reason Feng Yu bought one. Having nine goldfish is supposed to bring good fortune. Except ours kept dying. Dad just bought more. But now he’s moved on to raising tropical fish? Which are even harder to keep alive?? And are more expensive??? And yes they keep dying and he keeps buying more. Omg can you imagine how much the Arowana scene triggers me.

You may have noticed by now but Dad makes the worst decisions out of all of us. But he refuses to listen to the better judgement of all four women in this household.

Can we just talk a bit about Mei Xin’s dream to be a superstar? This is an interesting departure from the stereotypical mindset that all Asian parents want their kids to be doctors or lawyers. Mei Xin’s parents definitely still push her in a similar way though, taking her to professional singing classes and whatnot. I’m glad she had supportive parents, because my parents were also supportive when I decided to major in Japanese (basically every Chinese person in their generation hate the Japanese).

I’m sick all the damn time. Apparently my mother also had a fragile body.

My aunt is divorced, and she is religious (though not very serious about it), and involved in a pyramid scheme selling supplements :( I feel for her kids. She damn near involved us in the pyramid scheme too, but luckily mum has a brain. Since the divorce, my aunt has thrown all of herself into her work and that’s basically her whole life now. Unfortunately Du Feng Yu doesn’t get that luxury.

Mum and dad actually made a promise to never divorce, even though there’s never been any love between them. Dad was guilted into a wedding because he got her pregnant, and they had to live together to get permanent residency. In the past, dad had a divorce with another woman and it really had a negative impact on his kid then (my older half sister). You really get a feel for this in the later scenes of the game, where Mei Xin misses her mum. A divorce is really not good for a kid who’s still that young. That’s why dad is determined to keep the household together this time; it's literally their devotion to us, their children, that are keeping them together.

Writing this just made me realise my dad embodies the worst of both parental figures in this game. We still love him though.

That about wraps up all my thoughts regarding this game. It got a little personal near the end but I hope this post has conveyed why this game was so impactful to me. Asian representation in media always gets me excited and I really hope Red Candle recovers soon so I can look forward to their next game.

[themomsandthecity]

I Lost My Husband 3 Days After Welcoming Our First Baby

There I sat, my 3-day-old infant in my arms, trembling in fear as chaos and horror played out in my living room. Muffled by my bedroom door were sirens, chattering voices, and screams that will forever haunt my dreams. Frozen and in a state of shock, all I could see in my mind was the lifeless face of the only man I ever intended to love, his lips white and his body lying on the floor in an unnatural state. "I couldn't feel a pulse, but he has to be alive," I told myself. A police officer slowly opened my door and disturbingly made his way to my bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the willing arms of family members reaching out for my infant son. As the words "He's deceased" came out of the officer's mouth, all went black. A stray bullet is how the news reported the story, but we will never know the whole truth. The bullet that killed Justin went against pure logic and had a statistical probability of one in infinity. In a drunken stupor, my backyard neighbor fired his 9mm semi-automatic handgun. The bullet managed to travel through his screen door (dodging dozens of trees) over 200 feet to our home. It crashed through our glass door and blinds, continued across our living room, and finally stopped when it hit Justin in the head at the very second he jumped up from our sofa. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day old-baby and now a dead husband. It's been two years since that tragic day, and at 33 years old, I see myself a much sadder but wiser girl. Going through something so horrific and life-altering not only changes the way you see the world, it transforms it. Grief is a very personal thing, and while I would never claim to be an expert on coping, I do know firsthand how to live with it. I like to compare it to a scar. More specifically, an internal scar on your heart and in your mind that follows you everywhere. A dark cloud that hovers over everything good and beautiful for the rest of your life. For one to truly understand the full gravity of the situation, you have to know the story as a whole, not just the ending. Therefore, I must jump back 19 years. I was barely a teen, a 14-year-old girl in the eighth grade, when I first met and fell in love with Justin Ayers. He could play the guitar like Jimi Hendrix and crack a joke like Jerry Seinfeld. He was a smart, talented, adorable, funny, passionate boy, and I took notice. As I think back on our love story, a specific song lyric comes to mind: "Each night I ask the stars up above, why must I be a teenager in love?" I would sob, "Why can't we just get married today?" My friends and family (with the exception of my mom) would chuckle at the idea, dismissing us as kids who would grow up and realize it's just the hormones. But I never once doubted. In 2003 (one year after I graduated high school), we finally tied the knot. Over the next 10 years, Justin and I made our own rules in life. We had several goals we wanted to pursue, so we decided to wait to start a family, knowing we needed time to grow up. We formed multiple bands, traveled for leisure and work, and wrote and recorded an album together. It was definitely outside the norm, but it was our norm, and we savored it. Then one morning, I woke up and suddenly felt different. I wanted a baby! And Justin agreed. We'd been married for 10 years, and we both knew we were ready to become parents. We got busy between the sheets and in September 2013, I became pregnant with our son, Jax. On June 14, 2014, I remember looking at my infant son and realizing, "I finally understand!" His hair was thick and silky, his lips were bright red, and his eyes were captivating. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, bringing a child into this world has to be one of the most incredible feelings a woman can experience in life. A few minor birthing complications cost us an extra day in the hospital, but on the third evening, we were released and went home to be a family. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day-old baby and now a dead husband. I was a brand-new mother and now a widow at only 31 years old. I never had a chance to tell Justin goodbye or tell him how much I loved him. I like to think he already knew. We buried Justin on a Saturday, exactly one week after Jax was born. The day after his funeral, the crowds were starting to disperse, and my support system was dwindling down to a much smaller group. It seems incomprehensible to try to portray the level of darkness I slipped into. A darkness that is so scary, I wasn't "allowed" to be left alone for one second. Not even to take a shower. Life is a series of choices, and this choice to live started with my decision to get up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son. "Jess, you OK in there?" my friend Casey hollered as she banged on the bathroom door, "Jax is crying and needs to eat. Do we need to break the door down?" Time seemed frozen as I realized it had been two hours since I'd snuck away to the bathroom, granting my first chance to be alone since losing Justin. I took it as my only opportunity to bask in my own misery. The light from the hall shone brightly under the door as I lay in a pool of tears staring at everyone's feet pacing back and forth. With the chill of the bathroom tile on my cheek being my only comfort from the pain, I decided in that moment that I was ready to completely give up. I wanted to die. I could hear multiple voices in the hallway, all pleading for me to open the door. But in the distance I could hear a tiny voice that resonated in my heart. It was Jax, he was hungry, and I knew I was his source for food. "We are sending someone to the store for formula," my mom said to me. That was the defining moment when I had to make a choice, life or death. I realized that even though the life I'd worked so hard for was gone, I could try and start a new one. My son needed me to survive, and I needed him. It took me over 10 minutes to actually stand to my feet, but once I did, I felt a little hopeful. Life is a series of choices, and this choice to live started with my decision to get up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son. Over the next year, I was like a chameleon. I became so many different versions of myself that I didn't know who I was anymore. Was I Justin's wife or his widow? Was I a stay-at-home mom who used to be a musician or would I sing again? Would I ever have the opportunity to have another child? I had always wanted three. The endless questions and constant wonder consumed me from the inside out. For close to 10 months, I disappeared from any social scene, social media, or social circle that didn't include a few select people. I was hiding from the world and wasting away to nothing, a shell of my former self. Then it happened again. I looked at my now-10-month-old baby and felt ashamed. That hungry infant, once crying for mommy's milk, was now starting to talk, walk, and think. Looking at my gorgeous baby boy, I once again realized that it was time for me to make another choice between life or death. Looking back on the last two years of my life, I realize how many choices and decisions I had to make to arrive where I'm at today. I needed to find "me" again, and that required throwing myself back into my biggest passion, which had ironically become my biggest fear: music. My love for performing and music was something I shared with Justin, and it was now something I was forced to explore on my own. By sheer circumstance, I reconnected with a former bandmate and was presented with the opportunity to fill in on a few gigs. With much hesitation, I accepted. Declining the opportunity and turning my back on what I used to love would have been the much safer bet. But I knew it would mean I would end up spending the rest of my life running away from the pain and the joy it would bring. The roller coaster of emotions I go through during a live show are endless. However, I choose to face them every night because in the end, the good outweighs the bad. I maintain the idea though that the happiness I experience day to day is by my own choosing. Every single day I wake up like everyone else and I'm faced with a choice. Some days I hate life and choose to be sad, angry, hurt, scared, resentful, and lonely. Other days I feel blessed and choose to be happy, optimistic, thankful, forgiving, and compassionate. Each day is a new decision, and with each decision brings a new outcome. I can only hope I'm making the right choices for my future, especially for Jax's. When I close my eyes at night, I like to tell myself three things: I will be eternally grateful for you, my mommy! I will forever worship you, my Justin! And I will always love you, my Jax! Some of the greatest quotes in life come to us in the form of song lyrics. So, I will leave you with these words from Aerosmith: "Life's a journey, not a destination. And I just can't tell just what tomorrow brings." Jessica Ayers recently founded a foundation for young widowed mothers. For more, visit her website, The Singing Widow, where she blogs about life, loss, and motherhood. http://bit.ly/2nLrAGj

[dannick99]

18th Birthday - Landmark for Mom

Just do it. Just pick one and run with it, like the wind. No looking back. Pick your *1 *out of 20 to 25 viable creative ideas that have been stirring in your head for years and fleshing themselves out as you age and grow and learn. Take it and run with it -is what I keep hearing… From God and from good understanders of me and my ideas and  how I tick.   Run with it, WW! Like the wind. No looking back and questioning whether it was the right one to start with......or not. The others aren't going anywhere any time soon, hopefully(?). Just do it, I hear Nike reverberate between my ears.  Just take the first steps and God will bless it. God and  other "importants" in my life are well aware of my ADD 'stuck'  struggle for years.  Too much creativity flow at times can be a problem when life is already slam- jam packed, full of necessary responsibilities and life's  necessities beaming at you.   That rare gift can be a gift(ADD), a blessing to be thankful for, which I am, but it can be a curse in other ways. So they say, and I believe them more every new year, indecisiveness is for sissies.....so here I go… Out into the wild blue yonder of this "reveal yourself" blog world. With my music, writing, photography, painting, appreciation of all things beautiful and creative/artistic, all based in love and positivity, it's time to Flow🌬🌬🌈☀️ And to start on the night after my son's 18th birthday (appropriately sentimental, as it should be), i'm tending towards introspection.   First of all, I feel enormously blessed and gifted as a mom in the parenting department of my three. They're the only three I can speak for. Parenting is NOT for sissies, especially single parenting(🙃), or lazy or settled or self-centered or too-busy-to-get down-to-it parenting. Ha, or all of the above, for that matter.. Judge not that you be not judged :-&! I'm the last to throw stones, at anyone, for anything, especially parents. I have had my share of plenty well-deserved stones thrown and plenty not-so- deserved stones. Something my parents didn't tell me enough… Life isn't fair!  Don't expect it to be. Even when you make mistakes and you fess up. Or even when others who have left you come back and beg your forgiveness and fess up themselves, (although, admittedly, that part Does feel more fair;)!) If nothing else, being the target/the focus of the gossip tree, will humble you and teach you to look outside of the box when it comes to what I may hear about others. I don't succeed 100% of the time, but I try to hear it from all sources before I speak.  I'll make my own decisions based on proper, well gathered facts, thank you very much ;) So, BY THE WAY, welcome to my free-falling (Tom Petty style🎵) - mostly - unapologetic  first blog entry of 2017!! 🎬🏹🔛🥂🆓🈂🔓✒️📆📬🎉🔮💡⌛️🌠🛤🎡🗽🚥🚀🎤🍻🌛🌙🌒🌝🌻🐶👢💃💁🗣👉🏼👻🤔🙀👣🇺🇸☮️ On THAT note, I'm already apologizing…😑- lol. I'm not one to go on an emoticon binge like this, but I have to say it's a pretty good description....one by one by one.....of where this, my new stream of conscious blogging very well may lead! 9 and 17 are my lucky numbers, I was born on July 17 and my son was born on January 17. J and A seem to be my letters. Numbers are always coming into play in my life in the wildest of ways. And lately #1 has been pretty damn cool (but more on that later). Craziness with that number and I've got photographic proof! For months now… Weirdville, I'm telling you! But more coming...soooo much more later. On so many subjects! Flatlining has not been my norm. I was born and taught by all the right folks in my life along the way, definitely including my parents and family, a very strong message of "Love is the most motivating factor, think for yourself, make things better for everyone, be authentic at all costs, keep God first and then, truly, in all manner of things, all shall be well😇. I am no angel but a very gratefully content 53-year-old mother of an awesome grown daughter (28) and two sons I adore as well - 18 and 15. I've been divorced a time or two, which yes deductibly means I've been married a time or two. More to come on that subject. Ive never been afraid to take chances and speak my mind when strong opinions and convicted convictions submerge. That may just set the stage for the up and coming Blogtone (shouldn't that be the name of a band?!) as its gonna pour outta me a couple nights a week. I'll try to choose a theme each time (So many to choose from, and yes, I'm sorry - and happy- to tell you, if you don't know this about me, that I have significant ADD! ).  You'll see… If you look for it. Its that freefalling thing I was talking about earlier :-& Anyway, this blog (I hate that word!? Come on… What else can we call it??) will always be supported with photographs, quotes, lyrics, songs, videos, and hopefully good writing along the way. Its part of a vision/dream in the making and something I feel led to get a move on with right now! January 18, 2017. Without long intro, the subject of the night is my oldest son turning 18 yesterday. It's a definite thing to take note of as a parent and as an 18-year-old. We did last night. I have two sons and a daughter I adore equally. Really, for all their different reasons and beings. But tonight I want to honor my son who's become man. Because he deserves it. Here's my letter to Brade: You've been through a lot son, and I only see that you come out stronger. Yes, I am a proud mom and a pleased one with who I can see you are today. God knows I've been learning as I go with boys, but you have paved the way, Brady, and while I couldn't adore or respect your sister any more than I do, you have paved your own way and I have done my part and been able to sit back and be mightily impressed with who this little boy has turned into and applaud the decisions YOU've  made to be your own person. You are kind, loving, empathetic, stubborn, demanding at times, messy as hell, but somehow stay on top of it all just enough to pull off a darn good balance in being a good well-rounded human being. Your 18th birthday was and felt significant. You're my son, a friend, one of the greatest companions ever, and still learning, until the day you leave for college! And this last semester of your senior year seems to have freed you from all the burdens and responsibilities that have  fallen on your shoulders. Yay!!🎉. As you know, I'm already crying....just with your 18th birthday, graduation tears on the way (it's OK, you know your mama ;)). Anyway, the birthday night looked like it might not go super smoothly, but God had his hand in it and all went just perfectly👍🏼. Brady got to eat his favorite cake and eat it too. And more cake coming his way. The beauty of a divided family… Many many celebrations for someone we/they all love.  What can be better than to be loved that much that there are too many celebrations to plan in a birthday week?!❤😘. Now he's looking for the perfect present to give his best friend Cameron, whose birthday is around the corner and who has life-threatening melanoma. Cameron is my early-on dubbed "third son". Brady and Cot (my youngest and a true soul) and all of Cameron's closest friends are keeping him strong along with his incredible fighting spirit. He's going to beat the odds💥🎯#cameronstrong! All this in the middle of my daughter's long life BFF almost dying through childbirth a week ago. Very scary situation, Campbell took off work and went to Birmingham for a week to help, as any bestie would do ;)  through a gazillion prayers and a lot of true faith, and miracles no doubt, she is not only surviving but thriving and more and has been able more every day. Her baby Max is too!  Looked mighty mighty dicey there for a while. We are all Thanking God, literally. I am a single mother, with a good supportive father, who has my kids half the time, who tries hard to make a difference when I do have them (and every day I don't) in the ways I feel matter as far as raising the best absolute human beings to go into the world and contribute in all the right ways and feel good about themselves in the meantime - that's my style of kid raising. And I hope that they will always know that they can ask God for the answers and he will provide. Because he does and as, hopefully, they will I've seen enough of that after a while to really know they can believe in him and his goodness and his ways. Anyway, to sum up Blog No. 1, from my Deck of Declarations, i'll say that my views good. Life is hard at times. My children inspire me to be a better person, so I can keep teaching them about all the things that matter the most and being a good human being on this planet... whether they become a sports star, a corporate magnate, a starving artist of some sort, a sitcom writer, a Brooklyn bridge salesman, a waiter, a rapper or a baker, or anything else (other than a drug doer/dealer or a criminal

[themomsandthecity]

I Lost My Husband 3 Days After Welcoming Our First Baby

There I sat, my 3-day-old infant in my arms, trembling in fear as chaos and horror played out in my living room. Muffled by my bedroom door were sirens, chattering voices, and screams that will forever haunt my dreams. Frozen and in a state of shock, all I could see in my mind was the lifeless face of the only man I ever intended to love, his lips white and his body lying on the floor in an unnatural state. "I couldn't feel a pulse, but he has to be alive," I told myself. A police officer slowly opened my door and disturbingly made his way to my bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the willing arms of family members reaching out for my infant son. As the words "He's deceased" came out of the officer's mouth, all went black. A stray bullet is how the news reported the story, but we will never know the whole truth. The bullet that killed Justin went against pure logic and had a statistical probability of one in infinity. In a drunken stupor, my backyard neighbor fired his 9mm semi-automatic handgun. The bullet managed to travel through his screen door (dodging dozens of trees) over 200 feet to our home. It crashed through our glass door and blinds, continued across our living room, and finally stopped when it hit Justin in the head at the very second he jumped up from our sofa. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day old-baby and now a dead husband.It's been two years since that tragic day, and at 33 years old, I see myself a much sadder but wiser girl. Going through something so horrific and life-altering not only changes the way you see the world, it transforms it. Grief is a very personal thing, and while I would never claim to be an expert on coping, I do know firsthand how to live with it. I like to compare it to a scar. More specifically, an internal scar on your heart and in your mind that follows you everywhere. A dark cloud that hovers over everything good and beautiful for the rest of your life. For one to truly understand the full gravity of the situation, you have to know the story as a whole, not just the ending. Therefore, I must jump back 19 years. I was barely a teen, a 14-year-old girl in the eighth grade, when I first met and fell in love with Justin Ayers. He could play the guitar like Jimi Hendrix and crack a joke like Jerry Seinfeld. He was a smart, talented, adorable, funny, passionate boy, and I took notice. As I think back on our love story, a specific song lyric comes to mind: "Each night I ask the stars up above, why must I be a teenager in love?" I would sob, "Why can't we just get married today?" My friends and family (with the exception of my mom) would chuckle at the idea, dismissing us as kids who would grow up and realize it's just the hormones. But I never once doubted. In 2003 (one year after I graduated high school), we finally tied the knot. Over the next 10 years, Justin and I made our own rules in life. We had several goals we wanted to pursue, so we decided to wait to start a family, knowing we needed time to grow up. We formed multiple bands, traveled for leisure and work, and wrote and recorded an album together. It was definitely outside the norm, but it was our norm, and we savored it. Then one morning, I woke up and suddenly felt different. I wanted a baby! And Justin agreed. We'd been married for 10 years, and we both knew we were ready to become parents. We got busy between the sheets and in September 2013, I became pregnant with our son, Jax. On June 14, 2014, I remember looking at my infant son and realizing, "I finally understand!" His hair was thick and silky, his lips were bright red, and his eyes were captivating. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, bringing a child into this world has to be one of the most incredible feelings a woman can experience in life. A few minor birthing complications cost us an extra day in the hospital, but on the third evening, we were released and went home to be a family. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day-old baby and now a dead husband. I was a brand-new mother and now a widow at only 31 years old. I never had a chance to tell Justin goodbye or tell him how much I loved him. I like to think he already knew. We buried Justin on a Saturday, exactly one week after Jax was born. The day after his funeral, the crowds were starting to disperse, and my support system was dwindling down to a much smaller group. It seems incomprehensible to try to portray the level of darkness I slipped into. A darkness that is so scary, I wasn't "allowed" to be left alone for one second. Not even to take a shower. Life is a series of choices, and this choice to live started with my decision to get up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son."Jess, you OK in there?" my friend Casey hollered as she banged on the bathroom door, "Jax is crying and needs to eat. Do we need to break the door down?" Time seemed frozen as I realized it had been two hours since I'd snuck away to the bathroom, granting my first chance to be alone since losing Justin. I took it as my only opportunity to bask in my own misery. The light from the hall shone brightly under the door as I lay in a pool of tears staring at everyone's feet pacing back and forth. With the chill of the bathroom tile on my cheek being my only comfort from the pain, I decided in that moment that I was ready to completely give up. I wanted to die. I could hear multiple voices in the hallway, all pleading for me to open the door. But in the distance I could hear a tiny voice that resonated in my heart. It was Jax, he was hungry, and I knew I was his source for food. "We are sending someone to the store for formula," my mom said to me. That was the defining moment when I had to make a choice, life or death. I realized that even though the life I'd worked so hard for was gone, I could try and start a new one. My son needed me to survive, and I needed him. It took me over 10 minutes to actually stand to my feet, but once I did, I felt a little hopeful. Life is a series of choices, and this choice to live started with my decision to get up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son. Over the next year, I was like a chameleon. I became so many different versions of myself that I didn't know who I was anymore. Was I Justin's wife or his widow? Was I a stay-at-home mom who used to be a musician or would I sing again? Would I ever have the opportunity to have another child? I had always wanted three. The endless questions and constant wonder consumed me from the inside out. For close to 10 months, I disappeared from any social scene, social media, or social circle that didn't include a few select people. I was hiding from the world and wasting away to nothing, a shell of my former self. Then it happened again. I looked at my now-10-month-old baby and felt ashamed. That hungry infant, once crying for mommy's milk, was now starting to talk, walk, and think. Looking at my gorgeous baby boy, I once again realized that it was time for me to make another choice between life or death. Looking back on the last two years of my life, I realize how many choices and decisions I had to make to arrive where I'm at today. I needed to find "me" again, and that required throwing myself back into my biggest passion, which had ironically become my biggest fear: music. My love for performing and music was something I shared with Justin, and it was now something I was forced to explore on my own. By sheer circumstance, I reconnected with a former bandmate and was presented with the opportunity to fill in on a few gigs. With much hesitation, I accepted. Declining the opportunity and turning my back on what I used to love would have been the much safer bet. But I knew it would mean I would end up spending the rest of my life running away from the pain and the joy it would bring. The roller coaster of emotions I go through during a live show are endless. However, I choose to face them every night because in the end, the good outweighs the bad. I maintain the idea though that the happiness I experience day to day is by my own choosing. Every single day I wake up like everyone else and I'm faced with a choice. Some days I hate life and choose to be sad, angry, hurt, scared, resentful, and lonely. Other days I feel blessed and choose to be happy, optimistic, thankful, forgiving, and compassionate. Each day is a new decision, and with each decision brings a new outcome. I can only hope I'm making the right choices for my future, especially for Jax's. When I close my eyes at night, I like to tell myself three things: I will be eternally grateful for you, my mommy! I will forever worship you, my Justin! And I will always love you, my Jax! Some of the greatest quotes in life come to us in the form of song lyrics. So, I will leave you with these words from Aerosmith: "Life's a journey, not a destination. And I just can't tell just what tomorrow brings." Jessica Ayers recently founded a foundation for young widowed mothers. For more, visit her website, The Singing Widow, where she blogs about life, loss, and motherhood. http://bit.ly/2fZmqjU

[themomsandthecity]

I Lost My Husband 3 Days After Welcoming Our First Baby

There I sat, my 3-day-old infant in my arms, trembling in fear as chaos and horror played out in my living room. Muffled by my bedroom door were sirens, chattering voices, and screams that will forever haunt my dreams. Frozen and in a state of shock, all I could see in my mind was the lifeless face of the only man I ever intended to love, his lips white and his body lying on the floor in an unnatural state. "I couldn't feel a pulse, but he has to be alive," I told myself. A police officer slowly opened my door and disturbingly made his way to my bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the willing arms of family members reaching out for my infant son. As the words "He's deceased" came out of the officer's mouth, all went black. A stray bullet is how the news reported the story, but we will never know the whole truth. The bullet that killed Justin went against pure logic and had a statistical probability of one in infinity. In a drunken stupor, my backyard neighbor fired his 9mm semi-automatic handgun. The bullet managed to travel through his screen door (dodging dozens of trees) over 200 feet to our home. It crashed through our glass door and blinds, continued across our living room, and finally stopped when it hit Justin in the head at the very second he jumped up from our sofa. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day old-baby and now a dead husband.It's been two years since that tragic day, and at 33 years old, I see myself a much sadder but wiser girl. Going through something so horrific and life-altering not only changes the way you see the world, it transforms it. Grief is a very personal thing, and while I would never claim to be an expert on coping, I do know firsthand how to live with it. I like to compare it to a scar. More specifically, an internal scar on your heart and in your mind that follows you everywhere. A dark cloud that hovers over everything good and beautiful for the rest of your life. For one to truly understand the full gravity of the situation, you have to know the story as a whole, not just the ending. Therefore, I must jump back 19 years. I was barely a teen, a 14-year-old girl in the eighth grade, when I first met and fell in love with Justin Ayers. He could play the guitar like Jimi Hendrix and crack a joke like Jerry Seinfeld. He was a smart, talented, adorable, funny, passionate boy, and I took notice. As I think back on our love story, a specific song lyric comes to mind: "Each night I ask the stars up above, why must I be a teenager in love?" I would sob, "Why can't we just get married today?" My friends and family (with the exception of my mom) would chuckle at the idea, dismissing us as kids who would grow up and realize it's just the hormones. But I never once doubted. In 2003 (one year after I graduated high school), we finally tied the knot. Over the next 10 years, Justin and I made our own rules in life. We had several goals we wanted to pursue, so we decided to wait to start a family, knowing we needed time to grow up. We formed multiple bands, traveled for leisure and work, and wrote and recorded an album together. It was definitely outside the norm, but it was our norm, and we savored it. Then one morning, I woke up and suddenly felt different. I wanted a baby! And Justin agreed. We'd been married for 10 years, and we both knew we were ready to become parents. We got busy between the sheets and in September 2013, I became pregnant with our son, Jax. On June 14, 2014, I remember looking at my infant son and realizing, "I finally understand!" His hair was thick and silky, his lips were bright red, and his eyes were captivating. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, bringing a child into this world has to be one of the most incredible feelings a woman can experience in life. A few minor birthing complications cost us an extra day in the hospital, but on the third evening, we were released and went home to be a family. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day-old baby and now a dead husband. I was a brand-new mother and now a widow at only 31 years old. I never had a chance to tell Justin goodbye or tell him how much I loved him. I like to think he already knew. We buried Justin on a Saturday, exactly one week after Jax was born. The day after his funeral, the crowds were starting to disperse, and my support system was dwindling down to a much smaller group. It seems incomprehensible to try to portray the level of darkness I slipped into. A darkness that is so scary, I wasn't "allowed" to be left alone for one second. Not even to take a shower. Life is a series of choices, and this choice to live started with my decision to get up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son."Jess, you OK in there?" my friend Casey hollered as she banged on the bathroom door, "Jax is crying and needs to eat. Do we need to break the door down?" Time seemed frozen as I realized it had been two hours since I'd snuck away to the bathroom, granting my first chance to be alone since losing Justin. I took it as my only opportunity to bask in my own misery. The light from the hall shone brightly under the door as I lay in a pool of tears staring at everyone's feet pacing back and forth. With the chill of the bathroom tile on my cheek being my only comfort from the pain, I decided in that moment that I was ready to completely give up. I wanted to die. I could hear multiple voices in the hallway, all pleading for me to open the door. But in the distance I could hear a tiny voice that resonated in my heart. It was Jax, he was hungry, and I knew I was his source for food. "We are sending someone to the store for formula," my mom said to me. That was the defining moment when I had to make a choice, life or death. I realized that even though the life I'd worked so hard for was gone, I could try and start a new one. My son needed me to survive, and I needed him. It took me over 10 minutes to actually stand to my feet, but once I did, I felt a little hopeful. Life is a series of choices, and this choice to live started with my decision to get up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son. Over the next year, I was like a chameleon. I became so many different versions of myself that I didn't know who I was anymore. Was I Justin's wife or his widow? Was I a stay-at-home mom who used to be a musician or would I sing again? Would I ever have the opportunity to have another child? I had always wanted three. The endless questions and constant wonder consumed me from the inside out. For close to 10 months, I disappeared from any social scene, social media, or social circle that didn't include a few select people. I was hiding from the world and wasting away to nothing, a shell of my former self. Then it happened again. I looked at my now-10-month-old baby and felt ashamed. That hungry infant, once crying for mommy's milk, was now starting to talk, walk, and think. Looking at my gorgeous baby boy, I once again realized that it was time for me to make another choice between life or death. Looking back on the last two years of my life, I realize how many choices and decisions I had to make to arrive where I'm at today. I needed to find "me" again, and that required throwing myself back into my biggest passion, which had ironically become my biggest fear: music. My love for performing and music was something I shared with Justin, and it was now something I was forced to explore on my own. By sheer circumstance, I reconnected with a former bandmate and was presented with the opportunity to fill in on a few gigs. With much hesitation, I accepted. Declining the opportunity and turning my back on what I used to love would have been the much safer bet. But I knew it would mean I would end up spending the rest of my life running away from the pain and the joy it would bring. The roller coaster of emotions I go through during a live show are endless. However, I choose to face them every night because in the end, the good outweighs the bad. I maintain the idea though that the happiness I experience day to day is by my own choosing. Every single day I wake up like everyone else and I'm faced with a choice. Some days I hate life and choose to be sad, angry, hurt, scared, resentful, and lonely. Other days I feel blessed and choose to be happy, optimistic, thankful, forgiving, and compassionate. Each day is a new decision, and with each decision brings a new outcome. I can only hope I'm making the right choices for my future, especially for Jax's. When I close my eyes at night, I like to tell myself three things: I will be eternally grateful for you, my mommy! I will forever worship you, my Justin! And I will always love you, my Jax! Some of the greatest quotes in life come to us in the form of song lyrics. So, I will leave you with these words from Aerosmith: "Life's a journey, not a destination. And I just can't tell just what tomorrow brings." Jessica Ayers recently founded a foundation for young widowed mothers. For more, visit her website, The Singing Widow, where she blogs about life, loss, and motherhood. http://bit.ly/2s9Ir3i

[themomsandthecity]

I Lost My Husband 3 Days After Welcoming Our First Baby

There I sat, my 3-day-old infant in my arms, trembling in fear as chaos and horror played out in my living room. Muffled by my bedroom door were sirens, chattering voices, and screams that will forever haunt my dreams. Frozen and in a state of shock, all I could see in my mind was the lifeless face of the only man I ever intended to love, his lips white and his body lying on the floor in an unnatural state. "I couldn't feel a pulse, but he has to be alive," I told myself. A police officer slowly opened my door and disturbingly made his way to my bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the willing arms of family members reaching out for my infant son. As the words "He's deceased" came out of the officer's mouth, all went black. A stray bullet is how the news reported the story, but we will never know the whole truth. The bullet that killed Justin went against pure logic and had a statistical probability of one in infinity. In a drunken stupor, my backyard neighbor fired his 9mm semi-automatic handgun. The bullet managed to travel through his screen door (dodging dozens of trees) over 200 feet to our home. It crashed through our glass door and blinds, continued across our living room, and finally stopped when it hit Justin in the head at the very second he jumped up from our sofa. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day old-baby and now a dead husband.It's been two years since that tragic day, and at 33 years old, I see myself a much sadder but wiser girl. Going through something so horrific and life-altering not only changes the way you see the world, it transforms it. Grief is a very personal thing, and while I would never claim to be an expert on coping, I do know firsthand how to live with it. I like to compare it to a scar. More specifically, an internal scar on your heart and in your mind that follows you everywhere. A dark cloud that hovers over everything good and beautiful for the rest of your life. For one to truly understand the full gravity of the situation, you have to know the story as a whole, not just the ending. Therefore, I must jump back 19 years. I was barely a teen, a 14-year-old girl in the eighth grade, when I first met and fell in love with Justin Ayers. He could play the guitar like Jimi Hendrix and crack a joke like Jerry Seinfeld. He was a smart, talented, adorable, funny, passionate boy, and I took notice. As I think back on our love story, a specific song lyric comes to mind: "Each night I ask the stars up above, why must I be a teenager in love?" I would sob, "Why can't we just get married today?" My friends and family (with the exception of my mom) would chuckle at the idea, dismissing us as kids who would grow up and realize it's just the hormones. But I never once doubted. In 2003 (one year after I graduated high school), we finally tied the knot. Over the next 10 years, Justin and I made our own rules in life. We had several goals we wanted to pursue, so we decided to wait to start a family, knowing we needed time to grow up. We formed multiple bands, traveled for leisure and work, and wrote and recorded an album together. It was definitely outside the norm, but it was our norm, and we savored it. Then one morning, I woke up and suddenly felt different. I wanted a baby! And Justin agreed. We'd been married for 10 years, and we both knew we were ready to become parents. We got busy between the sheets and in September 2013, I became pregnant with our son, Jax. On June 14, 2014, I remember looking at my infant son and realizing, "I finally understand!" His hair was thick and silky, his lips were bright red, and his eyes were captivating. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, bringing a child into this world has to be one of the most incredible feelings a woman can experience in life. A few minor birthing complications cost us an extra day in the hospital, but on the third evening, we were released and went home to be a family. We tend to refer to the next day as "the day the music died." I had a 3-day-old baby and now a dead husband. I was a brand-new mother and now a widow at only 31 years old. I never had a chance to tell Justin goodbye or tell him how much I loved him. I like to think he already knew. We buried Justin on a Saturday, exactly one week after Jax was born. The day after his funeral, the crowds were starting to disperse, and my support system was dwindling down to a much smaller group. It seems incomprehensible to try to portray the level of darkness I slipped into. A darkness that is so scary, I wasn't "allowed" to be left alone for one second. Not even to take a shower. Life is a series of choices, and this choice to live started with my decision to get up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son."Jess, you OK in there?" my friend Casey hollered as she banged on the bathroom door, "Jax is crying and needs to eat. Do we need to break the door down?" Time seemed frozen as I realized it had been two hours since I'd snuck away to the bathroom, granting my first chance to be alone since losing Justin. I took it as my only opportunity to bask in my own misery. The light from the hall shone brightly under the door as I lay in a pool of tears staring at everyone's feet pacing back and forth. With the chill of the bathroom tile on my cheek being my only comfort from the pain, I decided in that moment that I was ready to completely give up. I wanted to die. I could hear multiple voices in the hallway, all pleading for me to open the door. But in the distance I could hear a tiny voice that resonated in my heart. It was Jax, he was hungry, and I knew I was his source for food. "We are sending someone to the store for formula," my mom said to me. That was the defining moment when I had to make a choice, life or death. I realized that even though the life I'd worked so hard for was gone, I could try and start a new one. My son needed me to survive, and I needed him. It took me over 10 minutes to actually stand to my feet, but once I did, I felt a little hopeful. Life is a series of choices, and this choice to live started with my decision to get up off the bathroom floor and feed my infant son. Over the next year, I was like a chameleon. I became so many different versions of myself that I didn't know who I was anymore. Was I Justin's wife or his widow? Was I a stay-at-home mom who used to be a musician or would I sing again? Would I ever have the opportunity to have another child? I had always wanted three. The endless questions and constant wonder consumed me from the inside out. For close to 10 months, I disappeared from any social scene, social media, or social circle that didn't include a few select people. I was hiding from the world and wasting away to nothing, a shell of my former self. Then it happened again. I looked at my now-10-month-old baby and felt ashamed. That hungry infant, once crying for mommy's milk, was now starting to talk, walk, and think. Looking at my gorgeous baby boy, I once again realized that it was time for me to make another choice between life or death. Looking back on the last two years of my life, I realize how many choices and decisions I had to make to arrive where I'm at today. I needed to find "me" again, and that required throwing myself back into my biggest passion, which had ironically become my biggest fear: music. My love for performing and music was something I shared with Justin, and it was now something I was forced to explore on my own. By sheer circumstance, I reconnected with a former bandmate and was presented with the opportunity to fill in on a few gigs. With much hesitation, I accepted. Declining the opportunity and turning my back on what I used to love would have been the much safer bet. But I knew it would mean I would end up spending the rest of my life running away from the pain and the joy it would bring. The roller coaster of emotions I go through during a live show are endless. However, I choose to face them every night because in the end, the good outweighs the bad. I maintain the idea though that the happiness I experience day to day is by my own choosing. Every single day I wake up like everyone else and I'm faced with a choice. Some days I hate life and choose to be sad, angry, hurt, scared, resentful, and lonely. Other days I feel blessed and choose to be happy, optimistic, thankful, forgiving, and compassionate. Each day is a new decision, and with each decision brings a new outcome. I can only hope I'm making the right choices for my future, especially for Jax's. When I close my eyes at night, I like to tell myself three things: I will be eternally grateful for you, my mommy! I will forever worship you, my Justin! And I will always love you, my Jax! Some of the greatest quotes in life come to us in the form of song lyrics. So, I will leave you with these words from Aerosmith: "Life's a journey, not a destination. And I just can't tell just what tomorrow brings." Jessica Ayers recently founded a foundation for young widowed mothers. For more, visit her website, The Singing Widow, where she blogs about life, loss, and motherhood. http://bit.ly/2lla6Ln