#Cecil Sharp House

[musicmags]

[mariocki]

Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964)

"Miriam? He really... isn't here, is he? Just now, I thought I heard... sometimes at night, when I wake up, it seems as if he really is here. Don't turn on the light. It's not real when it's light. It's only real when it's dark - dark and still."

[deadboyfriendd]

Wild Horse

This is for @dr-aculaaa!! If you are not Drac, keep it moving. (Or you can stay and read this and also read Gutterballs. That would be preferable.)

Read Gutterballs here!

You made a mental note to check the feeder on the front porch later, lest Cecil and Maria lie around your bottlebrushes in wait. It felt silly to name them, you couldn’t even be sure it was the same birds coming around. But, in your heart, you knew it was only right. After all, they were guests here and the weather had just begun to turn. And who were you to deny a guest a drink?

Your fingers were tacky with watercolor pigment and the stretchy latex cling of foam glue. The green of your cutting mat had faded into a teal with use, and cold-pressed watercolor paper fragments stuck to the wide planes of white buffalo sprinkled across your fingers. You should take them off when you do things like this, really, you should. But you thought they looked so pretty when the pigment-tinted water splattered on them and dried. 

You looked yourself in the eyes, a mirror reflection encased in talavera tile. You felt the same. The curls arranged in a fast-choreographed pile on your head looked a little more ashen every day. Gray. You forced yourself to regurgitate the word and swallow it again. You made a promise to yourself at twenty that you would not be your mother. That you would embrace it with open arms and welcome it into your home. You just didn’t expect it to arrive so soon. 

Pulling yourself away from that mirror, pulling your attention back to the table in front of you. Two thousand one hundred and sixteen running legs, fastened to five hundred and twenty-nine bodies, using one thousand and fifty-eight silver pins. They ran in a stampede of color and pattern and texture. Each one meticulously painted and assembled as its own beautiful being. Each one aptly named. 

“I don't know. Maybe. And I don’t know where she’s got that salvaged hunk of tin parked now, but I hope she’s still painting.” 

“What did she paint?”

“Everything. Nothing. Me. Herself. Her abundance of rescued desert mutts. Stars. Clowns. Butterflies and Cactuses.”

You laughed solemnly, reaching a finger upwards to feel the raised flesh of hummingbird feather lines before you reached down to pause Gutterballs. 

That salvaged hunk of tin sat, still loved and maintained at the end of the property, under her covered carport home. Once a year, during your off-season, she housed one lucky art student in residency for one week as a retreat. Retired, much like you. But did either of you ever truly work? 

It was a beautiful life you lived, and you belong deeply to yourself. Bittersweet like the bite of a pimento. You wrinkled your nose thinking about it. 

On the back side of the canvas, you inked in delicate writing, “Wild Horses Couldn’t Drag Me Away, 2024” Along with the swirling, sharp aperture of your signature. Though, the piece felt incomplete, merely a mass of horses with no direction. 

You trimmed one last body, a swirling, wild mane and a pointed, sure head bowed in forward-facing determination. You pressed the last brass button through the legs and flank of the last horse, wanting to apologize to it for the first prick of creation, yet relished in his brilliant red hue. You placed him further than the others, pulling him forward and out of the stampede. As if he was running harder, faster, than the others.

You think you’d name him Eddie.

[dragonspined]

they shouldn't care about his family, but given how nolan turned on the world they don't trust mark not to do the same. even a half viltrumite is a threat and one the dragon plans keeping a close eye on. the house had been easy enough to find. it smelled like the bastards to the point that devani had kept as much distance as possible without losing sight of it. she knows the agency has nothing effective for the time being, a still terrifying thought as much as she holds disdain for cecil.

now it might be a bit of a power play to be sprawled in the grayson's backyard like a cat marking its territory. devani is old enough to know how to not leave a trace in the grass. she forced a calm demeanor, wings remaining folded, licking forefoot as if her spines weren't literally standing on end at having one of his kind so close. instinct still had her curling up a lip in warning.

"it's a free country, is it not?" bright eyes surveyed the other with predatory criticism. "and i don't believe you live here anymore." they flick out sharp tongue in a yawn to show off teeth longer than his fingers. "i'm sure you don't care, but i have no desire to lay a talon on your family."

@viltrumtraitor from here

[silveraro]

WIP Wednesday (bc I'm a slow writer)

Alastor Aristide was dying. Just after he'd become the world's youngest serial killer.

The 10-year-old boy had just finished burying the body of Clara's former stepfather, now the 4th piece of organic fertiliser Alastor had added to the bayou. Suddenly, he was bleeding, being ripped into by dogs. Then he was dead. A man, a hunter, had mistook his dog's reaction for a deer or some other game.

Instead, he had shot a child. He'd carried the child into the town, around the shacks, and to Adelaide Aristide's house. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. For how do you tell a woman you'd shot her only child?

Meanwhile, a red eye opened up to a bright red sky.

A woman was looking at him. Her skin was grey, and she had black voids instead of eyes.

"My dear, are you okay? You've had quite a fall?" she said. Grey was close enough to white and dressed like the affluent ladies from the good side of the city, even if not as modern as —the ones Mama cleaned for. Maybe she was one of her clients. He should be polite.

The wealthy lady was holding out her hand to him, and when he reached out to grasp it, instead of his usual tan skin, his hands were black, with fingers as red as when he’d killed Mr Greggs. His fingernails were sharp, and suddenly he was struggling to breathe.

"Good Lord! Where am I?" cried the little boy. He looked around and saw everything surrounding him was unfamiliar.  "Mwen vle tounen lakay mwen!" He continued to panic, his stomach churning, and as he searched for a way back home, he felt his heart beating faster. Wait, he didn’t feel his heart. Why couldn’t he feel his heart?

“Don't fret, Poppet.” comforted the grey lady, her long, sharp fingers combing his hair. "My dear child, you find yourself amidst a realm of fiery trials and curious wonders. It may seem daunting, but remember, great lessons are often learned in the depths of adversity. Embrace this journey with courage, for even in the darkest of places, there are treasures to be unearthed and virtues to be forged." She continued running her fingers through his hair, comforting him until his breathing slowed.

“Do you remember your name?” she asked, removing her hand from his hair (and oh god, were his ears up on his head!) and offered him her hand. He grabbed it, clinging to her hand for all he’d got. “A-Alastor.” He stuttered. She smiled at him, a large smile that showed off her razor-sharp teeth. “What a lovely name,” she said with a smile, guiding him into a shop; the sign above said “Cecil and Rosie’s Emporium”,

Alastor sat in the apartment above the shop. The woman, he guessed was Rosie, was brewing some tea for him and had given him a mirror. His hair was longer and flowed in fiery strands, red with blackened tips. His ears, of all peculiarities, were on the side of his head and resembled deer ears. Amidst the tangle of his crimson locks, two small twig-like protrusions emerged. His eyes, matching the fiery intensity of his hair, bore the same crimson hue, while tears, dark as coal tar and flowing against his father's disapproval, threatened to betray his stoicism.

“Right, dear, do you know where you are?” Rosie asked, passing him a delicate tea cup. “Hell,” he said bluntly, trying to hide that she’d made him jump. He wrapped a sharp red pinky finger around the dainty handle and raised the cup with a slightly shaky hand. She looked between his grimace and his shaking fingers and smiled a genuine smile.“How old were you, Alastor?” She asked after a moment. “Nearly 11 Madam,” “Oh, none of that madam nonsense, you're only 10. Call me Rosie.”

[1264doghouse]

Shirley Collins at Cecil Sharp House

[chrystabelleblaumferge]

Bethany Pentaghast

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Basic Information

Name: Bethany Annabelle Diane Elizabeth Pentaghast

Nicknames: Beth, 'Ma Cherie' (Clarisse), 'Birdie' (Professor Fig), 'Princess Blueblood' (Sebastian), Demoiselle Pentaghast (Alain)

Gender: Female

Birthday: 22nd June 1875

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

Ethnicity: 1/2 English, 1/2 French

Nationality: English/British

Birthplace: St. Mungos Hospital, London, England

Species: Human (Witch)

Blood Status: Pureblood

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Physical Information

Hair Colour: Dark Red

Eye Colour: Ice Blue

Height: 145cm (Year 1)

Weight: 30kg (Year 1)

Body Type: (Will be Revealed by Book 5)

Three Sizes: (Will be Revealed by Book 5)

Skin Color: Pale

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Relationships

Familial

(Patrilineal)

Clarisse Pentaghast (Mother)

Edward Pentaghast (Father)

Maribelle Pentaghast (Half-Sister)

The Matriarch/Gertrude Pentaghast (Grandmother)

Albert Pentaghast (Grandfather - Deceased)

Cecelia Pentaghast (Aunt)

Arianna Pentaghast (Aunt)

Brunehilde 'Brynhildr' Pentaghast (Ancestor *10th Century)

Alphonse Malfoy (Ancestor *10th Century)

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(Matrilineal)

Charles Mercier (Grandfather)

Monique Mercier (Grandmother)

Amelie Gautier (Aunt)

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(Descendants)

Henrietta (Daughter)

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Non-Blood Related Relations

(Adoptive Family & Platonic Relations)

Eleazar Fig - Mentor, Adoptive Father Figure

Miriam Fig - Idol, Adoptive Mother Figure

Garreth Weasley - Good Friend

Cressida Blume - Friend

Samantha Dale - Friend

Merlin - Ally

Abraham Ronen - Favourite Professor next to Professor Fig

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(Neutral)

Sebastian Sallow - Rivals, but begrudgingly respects him. Conflicted on how she perceives him

Anne Sallow - Acquaintances

Poppy Sweeting - Acquaintances

Cecil Huntington - Respects as a Prefect

Mirabel Garlick - Respects as a Prefect and Head Girl

Aesop Sharp - Respects as a Teacher but fears him for his strictness

Dinah Hecat - Respects as a Teacher

Matilda Weasley - Respects as a Teacher and Head of House

Ominis Gaunt - Strangers

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(Romances)

(To be Revealed in Book 3)

(To be Revealed in Book 4)

(To be Revealed in Book 4)

(To be Revealed in Book 6 *Endgame Romance)

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(Enemies)

???? - Natural Enemies

Portia Codsworth - Despises for ruining her parents' marriage

Maribelle Pentaghast - Mutual Dislike from their mothers' rivalry

Everett Clopton - Bully, Enemies

Astoria Crickett - Bully, Enemies

Charlotte Morrison - Bully, Enemies

Leander Prewett - Bully* (Subject to change)

Bernadette Rosier - Disliked by her for Blood Traitor status

Aloysius Malfoy - Disliked by him for Blood Traitor status, Family rivalry

Members of House Malfoy - Family Rivalry, Old Feud from the 10th Century

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Loyalty, Alignment & Misc Information

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good

Patronus: Phoenix

Boggart: (To be revealed after Book 3)

Amortentia: Lavender, Rose-scented Tea, Old Books

Loyalty:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Gryffindor House

Pentaghast Family (Faltering)

(Will be Revealed in Book 2)

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Personality

Bethany starts off as a studious, shy and socially reserved girl due to her strict upbringing. She is well-mannered and polite being raised in an aristocratic wizarding family. Being the firstborn daughter of House Pentaghast meant that her elders had great expectations for her to become the next Matriarch of her house.

Her mother and grandmother's strictness while growing up had led her to retreat to her books to daydream about tales of heroes of old as a means of escapism from her responsibilities. To her, books are her one escape from reality.

Her deep-rooted desire to escape the clutches of her demanding family and find the courage to forge her own path in life had caused the Sorting Hat to place her in Gryffindor as it overrides her desire to fulfill her elders' expectations of having her be sorted in Ravenclaw.

As she grows older, she becomes more confident and unafraid to speak her mind, influenced by Miriam Fig who inspired courage within her. She is a very kind individual whose sense of altruism would lead her to place others above herself. Even when wronged by someone, she refuses to let go of her strong moral code and treat her opponents with respect. She still prefers to treat races deemed inferior by wizardkind (Goblins, Faeries, etc) with respect despite her noble origins.

However, she does have a judgmental streak where she would display a dismissive attitude toward subjects or topics she considers illogical or regards as pseudo-science such as Astrology and Divination. This would lead her to several disagreements with her housemate Emilia Lindley, who loves both subjects dearly.

She can be dishonest with certain people, often displaying a "tsundere-like" behavior toward them. Often toward people with whom she feels conflicting emotions. Her inability to be forthcoming with them is largely influenced by how her mother would punish her harshly for expressing negative emotions.

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Likes:

Tales of Chivalry and Heroism (Mainly Le Morte d'Arthur)

Rose Scented Tea

Studying in the Common Room

Solving Mysteries

Dislikes:

Ghosts/Undead Creatures

Blood Supremacist Beliefs

Pureblood Culture

Dishonest Men

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Subject Proficiency

Defense Against the Dark Arts: A+, Did not start as naturally talented in the subject but becomes better at it through hardwork

Charms: S+, Displays great aptitude for spellcasting and control over Charms

History of Magic: S, Passion for reading and learning lets her excel in the subject

Arithmancy: A+, Good at solving mathematical problems as needed for Ancient Magic research

Runology: A+, Displays utmost passion due to correlation to Ancient Magic research

Potions: A-, Would have scored higher if she did not enable Garreth's bad habits in making Sharp angry

Herbology: C, Decent but lacks interest

Astronomy: C, Decent but lacks interest

Divination: F, Despises and lacks clairvoyance

Care for Magical Creatures: C, Decent but lacks interest

Flying: F, Disastrously Bad

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Miscellaneous

OC to OC Relations (Allowed, but must ask for permission)

All information is subject to change as the series progresses, more shall be revealed later

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Credits

yooreeart (for commissioned drawing)

[ofcruelheart]

* ◟ : 〔 KIM JINWOO , NONBINARY + HE / THEY 〕 DEAW AHN , some say you’re a THIRTY TWO YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both PURE and NAIVE, one can’t help but think of DREAMER by TALLEST MAN ON EARTH when you walk by. are you still a BLADE RUNNER, REPLICANT, “CASTRATO” for STONEAGE INDUSTRIES, NEW YORK CITY METROPOLITAN OPERA HOUSE, even with your reputation as THE INGENUE? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and SINGING ARIAS TO THE DOVECOTE, THE SHARP GLINT OF A PISTOL LAYING PUSHED TO THE WAYSIDE ON A DESK BESIDE A BOUQUET AND JEWELS, DREAMS OF A BLOODLESS PEACE, although we can’t help but think of LUCY WESTENRA ( DRACULA ) + ALEC ( NIGHTRUNNER ) + CECILE ( DANGEROUS LIAISONS ) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

Name: Deaw Ahn Age: “32” Gender: Nonbinary Pronouns: He/They Orientation: Bisexual Species: Replicant Occupation: Bladerunner Civilian Occupation: "Castrato" at Metropolitan Opera House Tropes: The Ingenue, The Heart, Silk Hiding Steel, Beauty is Goodness Expanded Aesthetic: walking barefoot through the glade while cicadas hum / mourning hymns cast over an animal night / laying bare and prone upon dew and dirt, listening for primordial song / an ore split open at the seam / nightingales shivering free of their oaks, taking to a black sky / tenderness and rebellion, love and wrath in one breath Singing Voiceclaim: xSpeaking Voiceclaim: x History (TLDR below): tw - mentions of violence

life begins with a song.

your mothers are women of the earth, nymphs brimming with love and temper.

a spat in the morning, a riot over lunch, a reconciliation coupled with the din of a record fuzzily crooning speakeasy jazz and mournful blues. the pines beyond their little wooden home whisper hushed hymns of animal secrets and primordial ciphers.

life is full of ancient melody out here, and you want to be the mouthpiece.

moonshot, you long to be the herd of silver deer galloping through the dark, the owl howl, the mourning nightingale.

how to raise a fledgling starchild. alone. by sinistra ton

do not hide anything. tell the truth, but tell it beautifully. he is as untamed as he is a thing of bent stems. he will catch the scent of a half-lie as if it's drenched in rot. i've told him everything - everything, save for the letter left behind.

do not clip a wildling's wings. she had tried, when it was just us, with our bedroom door shut, or when the boy was out in the forest.

nurture a generous heart. he returns from his trips to town with a new stray. darling boy of gilt heart, rabbit-in-the-thicket child. too lovely. unfit for this world. you tell him so while he washes the rain from wild berries, brushing hair from his eyes. beware the calloused hand that reaches for yours. it has touched thorns like yours to pick at the rose.

do not lie. he finds the note. he knows lucia has left. he knows i refused to go, that i refused to let her take him too. he is silent, rounds his mouth on 'betrayal' - i collapse.

do not stop him when he leaves. his cheeks are still tearstained when he leaves for the city - he kisses my brow tenderly. he says, i will bring her back.

...

...

...

his memories end there. he learns later that his former memory-maker was replaced with one more efficient, more mindful of Stoneage's objectives. his memories become that of training, of honing his lethality, his agility, his ruthlessness when duty calls for him. and when it calls, he loathes it. in spite of his new memory-maker, he hates what he has been made to do.

instead, he dreams of what the first memory-maker must have been like, to give him such resplendent, romantic memories, to bequeath upon him such a personal, noble goal as finding his missing mother. to gift him a singing voice that has been extinct without the injury that usually accompanies it. this figure shrouded in mystery, this enigma, must be kind. must be loving. must embrace love and art and song and nature and must be so far disparate from the clinical business of Stoneage and the concrete jungle of new york.

perhaps they hated what they were made to do too.

tldr:

deaw (named after morning dew - actually the old english way of spelling it) was adopted by two women (sinistra and lucia) who lived on the outskirts of rural new york in their homestead, following a sustainable lifestyle. life was musical, ideal, and isolated, with leisure time spent running alongside deer, singing to the moon, and bathing in the wild rivers.

life is idyllic until lucia ups and leaves overnight, seemingly with no warning signs, and no attempt at communication. the remaining family is heartbroken, but carry on as best they can, though deaw is particularly wounded by the sudden abandonment. 

years pass. chance leads to deaw discovering a letter addressed to sinistra from lucia dated the night the latter left, and he sets off to find her.

PSYCH. he is a replicant bladerunner. up until this bullet, his memories were fabricated by a memory-maker; it is this same memory-maker who made him sweet and whimsical and wild, who gave him a natural extinct castrato's voice (without the horrific injury so well-associated with the practice) so he could sing with the wild birds, who made him find love and beauty even in the darkest and most decrepit places. abrubtly, this memory-maker was replaced by another more... efficient. one that helped hone him into a more ruthless bladerunner.

unfortunately, the work of a bladerunner goes against his very nature crafted by his first memory-maker. though he is extremely skilled, he hates the work, hates that he was also made to be so proficient at retiring replicants. secretly, he yearns for a future free of stoneage industries, and he dreams of one day meeting his first memory-maker. to understand them. to better understand himself.

SUMMARY: deaw is a creature of contradictions and dichotomies, love and wrath, tenderness and easy, fleeting touches and a penchant for altruism and restlessness. a made nymph, as wild and freefalling as his 'mothers', but with a great affection and tenderness towards his fellow 'man'. unfortunately, he's an incredibly proficient bladerunner.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

unfortunate replicants who are on his list to 'retire'

patrons and benefactors at the opera house, particularly those fascinated by his famous 'castrato' voice but without the actual practice associated with it having forced upon him. 1000% he is marketed as possessing an extinct voice.

both his memory-makers!!!!

fellow employees at stoneage - those who sympathize with him and those who are deplete of any empathy for his plight

fellow romantics and wildlings

people who can yell at him for being so enamored with nature and love and art in this age of tech and modernity

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

WTNV quick rundown - 145 - The Veterans

Featuring the voice of Mark Gagliardi as as John Peters (you know, the farmer?)!

Read the rest of my rundowns here, including live show and novel rundowns.

Fake it till you make it. Mic it till you like it. Book it till you look it. Welcome to Night Vale.

More Veterans from the Blood/Space War have arrived, landing in John Peters (you know, the farmer?) field. This includes John's brother, James Peters as well as Admiral Junior Blais, Sergeant Dan Christensen and his twin brother Drew. They say that the galaxy is under threat by the ruthless Polonian armies of Star System Lacaille 9352 and that's what they're fighting the war about.

The Polonian's are three times the size of humans with hundreds of sharp teeth up and down their boneless limbs. They have only one eye which gives them bad depth perception but it also shoots lazers. They have already completely destroyed the planet of a species which only speaks via dance - two members of which accompany the human veterans and are allies to them in the war.

There is an extremely lackluster attempt at supporting the financial, emotional and physical burden these veterans carry.

Senior Strategic Advisor Jameson Archibald at the Intergalactic Military Headquarters admits that he still has no idea what the Blood/Space war is about and lost all the money he kept getting from the government and not using in an intergalatic war in a faulty tech start up. Donations from the Bake Sale and Sheriff's Secret Police are received gratefully but since the Polonian's are so close he decides that it's probably too late. He then rolls up a $100 and eats it like a Snickers bar.

The Polonian ships are now visible in the sky. Harrison Kip sends Cecil and e-mail stating that in 1993 he found crashed ships that look exactly like the ones in the sky which had corpses of creatures matching the Polonian's in them whilst out on an unrelated exhibition. He was then reprogrammed to forget it but seeing them has recovered some of the memories and he feels he can recover the rest. However, he is then reprogrammed again and forgets it all. Cecil is then also reprogrammed for talking about it.

Luckily it seems the army of Polonian ships simply vanishes anyway. There one moment, gone the next.

Weather: “No Good Day” by Windows to Sky

Dan and Drew were born in 1912, both became tax accountants, had wives and children, donated to the Old NV opera house and were avid sports fans - even starting the first ever semi-pro Sand Hockey league. Dan passed away in 1994 due to liver cancer and Drew died of a heart attack a week later. Despite this both men when they return look to be in their late 20's and are entirely unable to reconnect with their middle-aged grandchildren or get jobs due to being legally dead.

Junior Blais, who is 50, says he was born in 2022 (this episode was written in 2019) to Oliver and Linda Blais both of who say they don't plan on having children making him either an accident or dramatic change of heart. He was badly wounded and has many 3rd degree burns that require grafts but clearance for them in NV involves getting clearance in Red Mesa and it's taking forever.

Jim Peters was honourable discharged from service and is decorated with many chevrons and medals. John Peters tells us that his brother used to play catch with him and show him where to get discounts on sweets and drinks. John is now 60 and was only 15 when his brother left, Jim is 22. John wants his brother to stay but Jim says that The General has a plan that will work and that they need him. John makes an attempt to make him stay but knows it won't work. Jim dons his space suit and leaves, already haggard with the horrors of war.

Meanwhile the NV Scorpions, the wheelchair basketball team that Janice is captain of, won their semi-final game against Cactus Park HS. They will playing Pine Cliff Saturday afternoon. City Council says that win or lose they will hold a parade next Tuesday for the team which will feature a celebrity appearance by Lee Marvin who is turning 30 that week.

A large chunk of the moon is destroyed by the Polonians but City Council just plans to buy a new one.

Reprogramming is done by men in camo-suits using some kind of metal hat full of wires and such.

Stay tuned next for simultaneous panic and relief as you realize all of your emails are gone.  Good night , Night Vale. Good night.

Proverb: Develop your chi. Really work that chi hard. Get six-pack chi. Totally swole with chi. Roll up those sleeves and welcome people to the chi show.

[gmanwhore]

Ok so. Ideas. Just for the Everything is a Lot album. Daymen is also here he is very important but his song is from The Normal Album.

Also. Daymen is killing off the remaining like. Sentient people who can make their own decisions. This town is full of dolls these are just the people he can't control.

6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro/Con): Richie Robin

He/him

Richie is a short, scruffy man who tends to wear flannels. He does shave, but his stubble grows in quite fast. His work boots are well worn. He has very dark brown eyes that look almost black.

Richie is a former construction worker who was laid off after Dreamville was built. He can't seem to escape it, but it's also forced him into stealing to make his way. He is in general an honest and hardworking man. He gets along well with the Henderson siblings, and is a mentor figure to Daisy. He ends up living with the Kenty's to keep himself safe.

Richie is the first to "disappear", after Daymen finds out the robberies are his doing.

Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal NY. (Bones): Sharon Christ (she's already here she's kinda the reason this whole thing is happening. Like using this album)

She/her

A mid-height, worryingly thin woman who is completely white. Her eyes are fully black. Her hair goes down to her mid-back and is straight, and she wears a modest white dress.

Sharon is the wife of the town's mayor and priest, Daymen Christ. She is a very soft-spoken and caring woman and tends to stay out of conflict. She's incredibly easy to get a reaction out of.

Front Street: Jack Whiser

He/him

A tall, blonde man who is still wearing his varsity jacket. He does look quite put together, like you took him out of a photograph. He has sharp blue eyes.

Jack is fairly young, and is a notorious womanizer. He's agressive, loud and attention seeking, and never sees himself as doing anything wrong. His girlfriend is Olivia Yesman, and he hangs around Kingston a lot.

He is killed tenth, as he matches up with Daymen's ideology very well, but eventually begins to change and better himself. So he dies.

¡Aikido! (Neurotic/Erotic): Daisy Meister

She/her

Daisy has long, soft brown hair she keeps in a braid down her back, and tends to dress exclusively in sundresses. She's mid-height, but a bit smaller than you think. She has brown eyes.

Daisy is Daymen's assistant at work, and he has been trying to engage in an affair with her. Daisy is incredibly sweet and loving, but she can be incredibly clingy and touchy. It's hard to tell her no. She is incredibly emotional and not very rational, often having intense breakdowns upon rejection. She is actually courting Franklin and they seem to get along well.

Daisy is killed third after she gets engaged to Franklin.

White Knuckle Jerk (Where do you get off?): Layton Kenty

He/him

Layton is a tall, greying (his hair is naturally black) man who always carries himself with an air of elegance. He usually wears a butonup with a vest and pants with a crease in them. He also has very dark eyes. Tbh he looks like that one fanart of Cecil Palmer I saw once.

Layton is a huge charmer. He has a flair for the dramatic, and is very sophisticated but not snotty at all. He is actually a house husband, he takes care of the housework while Haley is out of town working. He is the kind of man who tells you that you absolutely have to stop by and have some tea with him sometime. He is very weak willed, especially when harsh punishment is required. His bravery is bolstered by his relationships though. Franklin is his and Haley's son, and he is good friend with Richie.

Layton is killed fifth, along with his wife. You see they were both deviants from Daymen's ideology of how a married couple should act.

Cover This Song (A little bit mine): Haley Kenty

She/her

Haley is a taller woman who has her brownish grey hair cut in a bob. She usually wears a suit with a knee high skirt, but she never wears pantyhose because it annoys her, she usually wears high socks. She wears horn-rimmed glasses and those glasses chains librarians have.

Haley works as an accountant in "the big city". She is a dreamy woman who is often described as having her head in the clouds, but she isn't stupid! She does miss things that are right in front of her face. She is very loud in conversations, especially when she's excited. She is also very chatty, but sometimes she forgets other people are in the conversation as well. Still, she has an iron will and can be counted on for anything! Franklin is her and Layton's son, and she is dear friend with Richie as well as the Hendersons.

Haley is killed fifth, along with her husband. They also were actually helping keep Richie off the streets and Daymen was just waiting for a better reason to kill them.

Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq. GFD: Olivia Yesman

She/her

Olivia is a short girl with wild, curly brown hair she usually has pushed back with a headband. She has green eyes that border on brown. She usually wears a t-shirt and a pair of pants, but when she dresses up she opts for a longer skirt.

Olivia is usually very reserved, and doesn't talk at all. She is trying to be a perfect candidate for being a wife. She always just smiles when asked questions. Of course, when she snaps she snaps hard. She pushes herself past her breaking point just to try and be perfect. Her boyfriend is Jack, but she is also sort of friends with Daisy.

Olivia is killed eighth after attacking Jack with a broken bottle.

Red Moon: Darling Henderson

He/him

Darling is a mid-height man with a very short beard. He has black hair and dark brown eyes. He usually wears a lot of denim.

Darling is a singer who lives with his sister in the far end of town. He's incredibly poetic, and he's usually inspired by the empty expanse of land outside of the town as well as some of the strange goings on in the town. He's not quiet on purpose, he's just good at keeping his mouth shut to keep himself safe. He mostly just talks with Dearly.

Darling is killed seventh after approaching Daymen about his sister's death.

Lysergide Daydream: Franklin Kenty

He/him

Franklin is a tall, gangly man who obviously never grew into his body. He does dress pretty nicely, and he wears wire-rimmed glasses he is always pushing up.

Franklin is just as dreamy as his mother, but he is also just an airhead. In fact, he seems to be the least sentient of all the sentient people here. He is going to medical school. He really likes Daisy.

Franklin is killed fourth, right after Daisy. Daymen just doesn't like him.

The First Step: Kingston Boledi

He/him

Kingston is a short, stocky man with incredibly messy brown-blonde hair. His clothes are a bit stained, and messy. He has grey eyes.

Kingston is the actual town doctor, but he is incredibly prone to slipping back into his bad habits. He's very friendly, but he also is just. He's too much a lot of the time. He's obviously falling apart, but he doesn't seem to care. Jamie is his sister, and Jack is his drinking buddy.

Kingston dies ninth. Because uh *checks smudged writing on hand* he was sinning by drinking a lot. Yeah.

Jimmy Mushroom's Last Drink: Bedtime in Wayne NJ: Jamie Boledi

She/her

Jamie is a very short lady who never dresses well. She has chin length brown-blonde hair that's just a little curly. She has grey eyes.

Jamie is plagued with anxiety. She was the town librarian, but she quit after a major panic attack. She went to her brother for help, and he prescribed partying. This just made her worse. She doesn't really see any future for anyone.

Jamie poisons themself one night. Technically they are the last to die, but not by Daymen.

Chemical Overreaction/Compound Fracture: Dearly Henderson

She/her

Dearly is a tall, broad shouldered woman with very long black hair and very dark brown eyes. She usually wears a button up with black pants and suspenders. She also wears a cowboy hat with a chin string because I can.

Dearly is a park ranger for the wife expanse around Dreamville. She likes to compare herself to a rattlesnake: only loud when you're in danger. She doesn't talk to other people much, in fact she doesn't like talkative people much at all. She's brief and to the point. She's still the kind of person who you feel safe around, and of you go to her she'll let you in and feed you and give you a place to rest, she just won't actively seek you out. She does have some problems, just she's very quiet about them and usually just talks about them to Darling.

Dearly is killed sixth. She only evaded dying for so long because she kept to herself but. She was too outrageously different. She swag was too much her bitches too great.

Everything is a Lot: Gertrude Ophelia

She/her

Gertrude is an aging lady with white hair who is wheelchair bound. She usually wears a lavender knit cardigan and has a blanket over her lap.

Gertrude is actually fairly mysterious. She's been here before Dreamville even existed. She doesn't even talk much, she just watches. She loves sitting on her porch.

Dies second. Daymen finds her creepy, and she is getting too close to Sharon for his liking.

[2nd2ndalto]

Goes To My Head

Written for the @writers-choice prompt "the droid you're looking for"

Title is from Red, Red Wine by UB40

___

Nico wakes well after midnight to the sound of pounding on his cabin door. He’s on his feet in an instant, sword in hand. He’s been woken like this a few times over the year that he’s stayed at camp, and it’s never once been good news.

He approaches the door silently, barely breathing, craning his neck in an attempt to peer out the window without being seen.

There’s a thump outside, then muffled conversation, and… giggling? Frowning, Nico takes a step closer to the door.

“Hey, Nico?” a voice calls softly. “It’s Cecil. I’ve got Will with me. You in there?”

Nico pulls the door open, squinting at the two boys on his doorstep. There’s Cecil, looking a bit exasperated, propping up a wobbly-looking Will, who’s beaming brightly. His blonde hair is particularly messy, shining like a halo in the moonlight.

“Nico!” Will exclaims happily, “I missed you!” He lunges from Cecil to Nico, who suddenly finds himself supporting most of the other boy’s weight. Nico stumbles, just managing to catch the taller boy around the waist.

“Whoa there, sunshine,” he says, startled. Will smells like campfire and something else sweet and sharp… maybe rubbing alcohol? Or vodka.

“Are you drunk?” Nico asks, now fairly sure this isn’t a world-ending emergency, at least judging from the other boys’ demeanor.

“Yeah, he really, really is,” Cecil grimaces. “Sorry to wake you, man. I can’t take him back to his cabin in this state. Do you mind keeping him here?”

Will is warm against Nico’s side, all long limbs and vodka breath. He giggles and sways, and the shorter boy gives up on supporting him, doing his best to lower his friend to the floor without dropping him. He’s never seen Will quite this incapacitated before.

Nico sighs, eyeing the heap of Will at his feet. “Yeah, I guess. What happened? Thought you guys were just doing popcorn and Star Wars tonight.”

When he’d left the Big House hours ago, Cecil and Will had been in the midst of a Star Wars marathon, but there hadn’t been any booze in sight. Tired and losing interest in their endless deep dives, Nico had excused himself and gone to bed.

Cecil pulls a face. “Connor and Travis showed up. You know. We went down to the beach and one thing led to another.”

Nico nods. It’s not entirely unexpected. There’s usually someone sneaking booze into camp on any given summer weekend, and the Stolls are the most common culprits. Will doesn’t usually partake quite this much, but there’s a first time for everything.

“I don’t really have anywhere to put him,” Nico says doubtfully. Most of the Hades cabin is currently under construction, and there’s really only one usable bed. He nudges Will with his foot. Will wraps his arms around Nico’s leg and hums happily.

Cecil shrugs, grinning. “I wouldn’t worry about it. He looks comfortable.”

Will does, actually, curled up in an overlarge hoodie on the floor. He gives Cecil a sleepy thumbs-up. “I love you, Cecil,” Will mumbles.

“Love you too, dude,” Cecil says. He gives Nico an apologetic look. “You sure you don’t mind?”

Nico sighs. “It’s fine Cecil, don’t worry about it.”

Nico lowers himself to the floor beside Will as the cabin door closes, carefully extricating his ankle from Will’s grasp.

“I’m so drunk,” Will says sincerely, gazing up at Nico with wide eyes. He seems to be having trouble focusing on Nico’s face.

Nico nods. “You sure are. How come?”

“Dunno. Connor gave me this stuff that tasted like strawberries. So it was like strawberries but also vodka. But like strawberries. Like…” Will blinks, then reaches out to grasp Nico’s arm. “Whoa, how come your cabin’s spinning?”

Nico snorts. “I think that’s you, dork.”

“Oh. Right.” Will sighs, closing his eyes. There’s silence for a long moment. Nico would think the other boy had fallen asleep, except that Will keeps his fingers wrapped around Nico’s wrist, his thumb stroking softly against Nico’s skin.

“Are you feeling sick? Do you need a puke bucket?” Nico asks.

“No, ‘m okay,” Will mumbles. “Took some ambrosia. Probably won’t puke.”

At least there’s that. Nico watches the other boy, wondering what to do with him. There’s probably no harm in leaving him here on the floor. He’s not sure Will’s capable of moving much further anyway.

“I’m so drunk,” Will groans suddenly, rolling onto his back.

Nico nods. “Yeah, you said.”

“I don’t wanna be so drunk anymore. Stupid Stolls. I just wanted to watch Star Wars.”

Will suddenly fixes Nico with an intense gaze, looking far more lucid than Nico thought him capable of in this state. “Hey, how come you left?” he says.

Nico shrugs. “I don’t know. I was tired. You and Cecil seemed to be having a good time.”

Will’s brow furrows. “Were we making you feel left out? I never wanna make you feel left out, Nico,” he says earnestly.

Nico can’t help smiling at that. “No, you never make me feel that way. I swear, I was just tired. I wasn’t feeling The Force.”

“I’m always feeling The Force,” Will says gravely.

Nico smiles fondly. “Yeah, I know.”

Will’s tried, doggedly, over the last year, to share his fervor for Star Wars with Nico. And Nico appreciates that Will wants to include him, but he honestly just can’t get into it. Every time Will puts one of the movies on, Nico’s mind starts drifting. But the movies are always paired with Will’s sunny energy, and Will’s enthusiastic commentary, and just… Will. So it’s hard to mind too much.

“I’m really wiped,” Nico tells the other boy, patting his shoulder. “I’m gonna go back to bed, okay? Are you sleeping here on the floor? I can grab you a blanket…”

Will immediately shakes his head, trying and failing to sit up. “No, ‘m sleeping with you.”

“Oh really,” Nico says flatly.

“Yeah.” Will nods vigorously, then clasps his hands to his head. “Ow. But you gotta help me ‘cause I don’t think my legs work.”

“Gods,” Nico sighs. “Fine.” He crouches closer to Will, manhandling him into an almost-sitting position and grabbing one of Will’s arms to haul it over his shoulder.

They make it to standing, somehow. Will’s not that heavy, but he’s doing a phenomenally poor job of supporting his own weight, and he’s a good six inches taller than Nico. It’s not really fair, honestly. Every time Nico achieves another hard-won inch of height, the height gods seem to bestow two inches on this blonde idiot.

Thankfully, it’s not far to the bed, and Nico deposits the other boy unceremoniously onto the mattress.

One of Will’s legs is hanging off the bed, and with great difficulty he manages to shift it. He’s still precariously near the edge, though, and Nico tries in vain to shove him over another inch or two. Finally giving up, Nico climbs over the other boy to lie down against the wall. There’s a long moment of peace.

“Sorry,” Will mumbles suddenly.

Nico opens his eyes. Will’s managed to roll himself over. He’s inches away, staring at Nico in the dark.

“For what?”

“Bothering you. Waking you up.”

“It’s fine, I really don’t mind,” Nico assures him. “Just don’t puke in my bed, okay?”

“I won’t.”

Nico closes his eyes again. His mind is just starting to drift when Will’s voice jolts him back into consciousness again.

“Travis tried to kiss me.”

“Hmm? Oh.”

That’s… surprising. Nico’s never had the impression that Travis had any particular interest in Will. Or in guys at all, for that matter. But he’ll readily admit he’s not the best at reading people. He gazes at the blonde boy in his bed. Will looks… guarded. Or maybe like he’s… waiting for Nico to say something?

“Um,” Nico says blankly.

Will nods, as if that’s exactly the response he was expecting.

“I told him I didn’t want to. Because I have a crush on you,” Will says matter-of-factly. Then his eyes go wide. “Shit. You were the one that I wasn’t supposed to tell that to.”

Nico presses his lips together, suppressing a laugh. Drunk Will is kind of cute. “It’s okay,” he says. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Will lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Cool, thanks,” he says.

The thing about Travis is surprising. The drunken crush confession isn’t, really. At this point Nico had assumed that both he and Will had a crush and each knew the other had it. It’s just that neither has actually done anything about it yet. It’s kind of nice to hear Will say it, even if Nico’s not sure the other boy will remember any of this tomorrow.

“Don’t tell my mom,” Will says suddenly, his strawberry vodka breath wafting into Nico’s face.

Will suddenly looks wide awake again, his eyes boring into Nico’s. Nico’s never spoken a single word to Will’s mother.

“What - um. Don’t tell your mom you… have a crush on me?” Nico can feel his face heating. Gods, it’s really hard to put those words out into the world. At least while entirely sober.

Will rolls his eyes. “No silly, she already knows that. Don’t tell her I’m drunk.”

Nico bites his lip. “I won’t say a word.”

“Kay. You’re the best.” Will beams at him, then closes his eyes again.

Nico takes a deep breath. Okay. This isn’t so bad. They’ve slept near each other before. Never quite in the same bed. But it’s fine. They can laugh about it tomorrow. Or more accurately, Nico’s planning on teasing Will about this for the rest of his life.

And then suddenly Will’s hand is in his. Nico’s stomach flip-flops in an extremely enthusiastic manner, considering how exhausted as the rest of him is.

“Room still spinning?” he asks softly.

“Not as much,” Will whispers. “That time I just wanted to hold your hand.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nico smiles into the dark cabin. It’s nice, the feeling of Will’s hand in his. It kind of warms him from the inside out. He closes his eyes. Again.

Then - “hey, Solace.” Nico blinks into the suddenly not-so-darkness. “You’re glowing.”

“Oh!” Will opens his eyes, looking startled. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, just - I haven’t seen you do that before. Why are you glowing?”

“I um…” Will swallows, looking embarrassed.

Nico frowns. “Is it like, a drunk thing?”

“No, I think it’s just… you make me happy,” Will whispers.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do - do I make you happy too?” Will asks tremulously, and gods, really? It’s like three in the morning.

Nico squeezes his hand. “Of course you do. Idiot.”

Will beams.

“Go to sleep, nerd.” Nico kicks him gently.

Will closes his eyes, still smiling.

“Nico?”

“Mm?”

“You’re the droid I was looking for,” he mumbles earnestly.

Nico blinks. “I have no idea what that means.”

But Will doesn’t answer, finally seeming to have fallen asleep. He’s still glowing softly, Nico’s hand clasped in his.

“Sweet dreams, night light,” Nico whispers.

[solomon-revisited]

lion's teeth, the mountain goats x bristlecone photographs, earl cecil payne

[ID: sharp-looking trees in a white stone landscape. the lyrics "nobody in this house / wants to own up to the truth" are overlayed on the photo.]

[unionjackpillow]

From John Finnemore’s newsletter:

Just a quick one to say that the ballot for tickets for the next recording of John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme is open here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/showsandtours/shows/john-finnemores-souvenir-programme-apr23 , and closes at 10pm on Friday 31st March (tomorrow).

If you came to one of the try-outs, then thank you, and you may remember me saying that I would send one of these newsletters with a link giving you 24 hours advance notice of the tickets going live. That's because that's what one part of the BBC told me I would be able to do. But when I then asked another part of the BBC how to get the link, the second part of the BBC just stared at me and told me it was impossible, and anyway the whole thing was a ballot, so what would be the point of advance notice anyway? I then told the second part of the BBC what the first part of the BBC had promised me, and the second part of the BBC gave it as their informal and personal opinion that the first part of the BBC was an idiot. Which explains a lot.

However, all is not lost! Because even if you don't get a ticket to the recording (and statistically, I'm afraid, you probably won't) we are doing a third and final secret try-out, a few days before the recording, which will be very very similar to it, only a bit longer and sillier, and with more Subjective Guess Who? playing. If you came to one of the first two shows, there will be rewritten and (one would hope) improved versions of some of the sketches you saw then in it, but also plenty of new stuff, including the new Since You Ask Me? story, and a song.

It's at 7:30 on Wednesday 12th April, at Cecil Sharp House in Camden, and by the time this is delivered to you, tickets should be available here: https://www.efdss.org/whats-on or by phone on 020 7485 2206. If not, they will be soon afterwards.

​And that's about it... oh, except for a very specific request for research help. Do you, by any chance, live in a small English village? Of somewhere between ten and thirty households, and definitely no more? If so, would you be willing to talk to me about it? If so, please drop Nic a line at assistant@johnfinnemore.com. Thanks! (Obviously, this is because I am about to become the show-runner of the long-awaited television version of The Archers.) ( <--- THIS IS A JOKE. Stand down, Ambridge worriers. And warriors.)

Ok, that really is it. Bye.

Love,

The Airport

[dandylion240]

Caiden pulled his gun from its holster. Stopping to inspect the vehicle parked in front of the house. He pulled out his phone. He took precious moments to call in backup. Walking around the driver’s side he found the body. Stooping he checked for a pulse even though he could tell the eyes staring up at him had seen their last. Meanwhile Cory had followed Miah inside the house. There was a sharp, bitter smell of ozone in the air. There was a sudden movement as one of the men that had been sprawled haphazardly on the floor got up and darted for the door across the room. 

A large creature took chase, a massive snake-like being with white iridescent scales. Its coils slithering in pursuit, smashing anything in its wake. Instinctively Cory knew this was Miah’s true form, its massive scale struggling to fit the home. The frightened man didn’t get far before the beast unhinged it’s jaw like a deformed python-like horned monster, swallowing him whole.” 

There may have been a brief protest from the man being swallowed but Cory wasn’t paying attention. He was watching Jonah crawl across the floor towards Cecil.

[therobertfrasergang]

Christopher Gibbs on Robert Fraser

Gibbs was a long-time friend of Fraser. This is from an 2016 article at Sotheby's about the set design for the 1968 film Performance; the set was photographed by Cecil Beaton, and the photos were at that time (2016) going on display at Sotheby's prior to auction. You can see them here.

Cinematic Alchemy: Christopher Gibbs on Performance, By Mariko Finch

Christopher Gibbs is an antiques dealer and collector who has been creating visionary interiors throughout an illustrious career that spans decades. An integral part of London society in the 1960s, he was approached by film director Donald Cammell to design the set for Performance – an experimental film starring Mick Jagger and James Fox. 

---

MF: How were you connected to these people before the film?   CG: There was a wonderful being called Robert Fraser who had a gallery in Duke Street. He introduced me to all those people. He was a player, gathering movers and shakers from around the world – Italy, France, the US…I met Mick through him, Anita through him. Keith, Donald, Deborah. He was a pied piper, and a trailblazer, one of the first of our friends to go to India. He burned the candle at both ends, and was alas, the first of our friends to contract HIV, and die in a hurry. Robert's influence on that film was undeniable; a magician tweaking the show from behind the scenes – I think he was even barred from the set by Donald!

---

Anita Pallenberg was staying in Fraser's flat on Mount Street during the filming of Performance. From Vyner's Groovy Bob:

Anita Pallenberg: At one time I needed a flat. Warner Bros wanted to rent me one. We had only the house in the country. Robert said we would rent his flat in Mount Street but then he never really moved out. So all we really rented was Christopher Gibbs’s four-poster bed. That was a funny period. It was very difficult for me. Keith and Robert were both so cynical and sarcastic, slagging off the movie every day. I’d come home from filming and they would be slagging off Jagger, slagging off everything. I got quite confused. You know how sharp Robert could be. Donald Cammell: I barred Robert Fraser from the set of Performance because I felt he would cause too much trouble and Keith was trying to sabotage my movie because he was jealous of Mick with Anita...I was scared of all the trouble and I was also scared of Robert’s machinations and I expected trouble from him because he was so tight with Keith — they were such good friends. I adored Robert, but treachery was an affectionate game with him.

[askroahmmythril]

Gym Leaders Pt. 2

I figured I may as well try to come up with something for the types I was missing, as I had seven types I didn't come up with a leader for. So here we go :

Electric - Terry (name basis, battery)

An eccentric researcher in a desert area searching for new forms of energy. He has a Mad Max style look, kind of patched together metal and leather outfit, rugged overall look, goggles on his face. Yellow hair worn in wild looking dreads that end in jagged lightning bolt like shapes.

A bit wild in personality, can come off as sounding a little unbalanced in his excitement and passion for his research.

Rivals with Crystal, thinks she is too rigid and by the book with her research.

Gym Gimmick : Gym is located in a scrapyard setting, with open ended shipping containers forming tunnels you progress through. Making your way to various stations will let you operate an electromagnetic crane to move the containers, forming new paths.

Poison - Eris (name basis, aerosol)

A spirited skater and grafiti artist. She dresses in a hoodie splattered with mostly purple and blue paint, dark purple hair peeking out in bangs from within the hood. Wears a painter's mask over her mouth to protect from the fumes of her spray paint. Camo print shorts, likely also colors indicative of the Poison type, with roller blades that carry a Revavroom motif.

Confident and spirited, she likes to engage in playful trash talk during battle. She has a tendency to get super focused on one task though to where she will sometimes get distracted from her Gym Leader duties.

Gym Gimmick : Overall a fairly straightforward gym, it takes the form of a skate park. You have to defeat trainers to find cans of different colored spray paint you have to take back to Eris so she can finish a mural she's working on before letting you battle her.

Fire - Bernard (name basis, burnout)

A drag racer. He wears a full racing suit, red and white with flame patterns. He has a helmet, though his intro animation has him take it off to show his face, and he holds it under one arm during the battle. Has slicked back red hair and a sharp goatee.

Comes off as a bit cocky. Has a bad habit of letting the heat of competition get to him, and is pretty begrudging in admitting defeat and handing over a badge.

Gym Gimmick : ?

Ghost - Cecil (name basis, cease)

An actor that runs a "murder mystery" event in a haunted house setting (may have to be toned down from a murder mystery for rating? I dunno how strict they are about that sort of thing). Dresses as a classic detective for the role, Sherlock Holmes style cap and coat.

Tends to talk in riddles, as is the nature of the attraction he runs. Takes pleasure both in stumping his guests, as well as seeing them succeed.

Gym Gimmick : You participate in the mystery, trying to figure out the culprit from clues you find, as well as those given by the other "guests." There are a few rounds to the mystery, in which false accusations can cause extra trainer battles.

Fighting - Walter (name basis, welterweight)

A professional boxer, he's very much dressed the part, gloves and trunks colored / patterned in reference to the Fighting type. Black, spikey hair, wears a headband styled after a Focus Band. His start of battle pose has him using his teeth to tighten the laces on his gloves.

Takes training very seriously, both for boxing matches and Pokemon battles. Has a fiery spirit, eager to show his power.

May appear outside of the gym to teach the player about some sort of regional EV training method or such.

Gym Gimmick : ?

Ice - Crystal (name basis, ice crystals / cryogenics)

A scientist that performs research on low temperature phenomenons. She wears a crisp white lab coat with light blue trim, sort of "techy" looking glasses. She tends to carry a clipboard with her filled with research notes. Silvery blue hair worn in a long braid with crystaline ornaments in it.

Treats battle as an experiment, coldly clinical while battling, but gives a small smile of satisfaction as she records results.

Rivals with Terry, thinks he is a bit too irresponsible and unreliable with his research.

Gym Gimmick : Takes place in a cryogenics research lab, so rooms are very cold, meaning you may have to contend with Hail / Snow or such. Unsure beyond that.

Dark - Stella (name basis, stealth)

A tactical stealth type soldier, has some definite influence from characters like Solid Snake, Sam Fisher, etc. She wears a black and grey tactical outfit, utility vest and belt. Has a pair of night vision goggles worn across her forehead to show her stern, focused eyes. Lowers them into place for the duration of the battle. Has short cropped hair, dark brown color, fairly military looking style, think Jess from Advance Wars.

Very stern and terse personality. Doesn't do small talk. Not too talkative even after defeat. "There's nothing more for you here, soldier. Go about your business."

Possibly hinted that she once worked with Lt. Surge.

Gym Gimmick : Very much a stealth mission. Spotlights search over the grounds, and you have to try to avoid them while searching for card keys to get deeper into the gym. If a spotlight finds you, the lights for the room come on and you'll have to deal with a few trainers as a result.