#I decided to focus on colors since I can't do clean lines

[segimaru]

Asphyxia

[crabbng]

i actually got some in process shots for this #WebcomicDay ! they are of an episode 12 page, so this doubles as a sneak peek 🤣 you can see i forgot to take a pic of the finished lines before i started on coloring (whoops)

there are a few secret steps after finishing up backgrounds etc. (scanning, cleaning up) but since this is a sneak peek, i didn't want to put the Final Product out there.

I guess I'll ramble a little bit about The Process below the cut.

SKETCH: I don't plan out my pages as much as I should other artists do. I think about the next couple shots I want, what I can probably fit on the page, and then decide how tall the panel should be. after that I draw a big line across the page 🤣 sometimes the panel gets bisected, usually not trisected. I love it when people consider the whole of the page and make the paneling choices that elevate the art. I just don't do it lmao

luckily for me, I don't have a requirement to make every piece of my comic pages The Best. So, I focus on what I enjoy: expressions and conversations.

LINE DIALOGUE AND PANELS: For inking/lining, I ABSOLUTELY have to put in my dialogue/dialogue balloons first. Since I'm doing everything on the same page of physical paper, I can't really shift things around partway through to make the dialogue and art fit better together. I also have to make sure it all fits within the panel lines I have planned. I've gotten into situations where the WORDS fit in, but in order to make a word balloon with decent space around the words, I cross over a line. Sometimes it works, but for me.. it doesn't work most of the time. So, gotta plan ahead.

You can also see down in the final section, I handwrite my dialogue! So, if I mess up, I sometimes have to add in a few letter that I can substitute in during editing.

FINISH LINES & ERASING: All I have to say about finishing lines/erasing, is that erasing can be such a challenge lmao. JUST YESTERDAY... when I was erasing.. I tore a page a little bit. And I often accidentally crinkle a corner while erasing. The obvious solution, and what I know people do, is to sketch on one page, and then use a light table (or equivalent) to do a cleaner, lighter sketch on a new page, and then do lining on that. Which is a good idea, maybe someday I'll try it lol.

COLOR FIGURES: There's really no good reason I start with the figures, besides that I like watching them come to life with the colors. It feels weird when they're blank on the page. They're also generally the most important part of the page for me, and seeing them colored helps me decide on which panels I want to do flat color backgrounds for.

But! This means I can't go back and edit skin tones etc. to be in different lighting after the fact, unless it's to make them darker! So that's something I have to be cognizant of and plan for in advance.

I use Copics for most part of the figures, except when I know there's going to be several large areas to color, like Aoife's hair or her sweater and pants. I have character's hair planned in Copics, but I have several browns from other brands (Prismacolor, Blick, Winsor and Newton, Artist's Loft) that get pretty close to her hair color. Clothing that has large areas that need to be colored are planned as being from one of those other brands from the start. I don't want to use up all my Copic juice on them!!

Also don't you just love seeing the texture of the paper through the marker? I love it. I love the natural variation you get.

BACKGROUNDS & OTHER DETAILS: Color everything else! Backgrounds and shadows generally. For backgrounds I'm once again using my alternative brands. I've got a lot of space to cover, and those markers, along with being cheaper, are generally larger than my Copics. So it works out.

Sometimes I tend to go a bit wild with the single color backgrounds, to the point where I think it can get distracting. So I have to rein it in and leave some panels with white backgrounds, so the reader isn't just blasted with colors from every angle. My rule of thumb is to try and only have color on one panel in each of my lines of panels, and to alternate sides, if possible. I feel like that guides the eye easier.

Doing things traditionally means I don't really get any shortcuts when it comes to backgrounds, including just flat color backgrounds. Every square millimeter has gotta be colored purposefully by me. And maybe that seems like a pointless use of time and effort! But man, I love the end result. I'm all for shortcuts, it's just a lot of the ones I see floating around don't apply to me 🤣

I'll talk about my other steps here too, might as well.

SCANNING: After colors and everything, I scan the pages. They're too big to fit in my scanner, so I scan the top and bottom halves separately, and stitch them together (I use PhotoStitcher).

From there, I rotate it to (more or less) make it straight on my canvas, make a .clip version, and send it off to my iPad!

I got my iPad in a workplace raffle, and though there's a lot about the UI I don't love, it's been really convenient!

EDITING: Editing consists of: cleaning up things that should be white (like eyes, teeth, and word balloons), and then cleaning up marker that's bled over into areas it doesn't belong, and is distracting. I try not to overdo it on marker cleanup, because 1) it takes a while, 2) it can stress me out if I decide I need it all to be PERFECT, and 3) it feels slightly disingenuous, just TO ME, about my OWN work. I don't think 3) is valid, so I try to ignore that part, but sometimes in my head I'm like 'mm but Jacki can you say its traditional if you have to do so much work in post to make it presentable??' (said in a very snobby voice). I went from not really caring -> REALLY caring -> hopefully I'll get to caring a reasonable amount.

FINISHING: Last steps are to send it BACK to my computer, where I have two auto actions to size the page and to export it as a .png in a large and a small size. I should be rightfully criticized for how I size the pages lmao, it's 2647x3560 pixels. Why that number specifically? That's 1) how I've done it since the beginning, so they are all this very strange size, and 2) it's about the maximum area of scanned page I can consistently get.

I think that's it? I don't know why you would, but if you have any questions, feel free to hit me up and I'll answer them to the best of my ability. Hope someone finds this interesting or helpful LOL

bye 💕 happy webcomic day!

[photo1030]

Hello, lovely!

I’m here with a request, but first I gotta profess my love for your story again (perhaps you lust for what you cannot have). Oh, it has stuck to my mind like glue ever since I first read it. The story is so good and your writing skills are excellent! I’m in great need of those fantastic writing skills of yours please. 🥰

Could you give me some good ol’ sweet fluff with F!Reader watching Arthur Morgan play/snuggle with a cat. Maybe you can add in there that he didn’t want any pets in the beginning, but immediately fell in love with the cute little guy/girl. I can picture Arthur writing in his journal with the cat laying in his lap. OMG. Imagine him drawing the cat in his journal?? 😭

Thank you in advance and please take all the time you may want or need 💚.

Thank you so much for this "ask"! This is my first request ever, so I hope I did it justice. I didn't do a "x female reader" but Arthur and Jack with this kitten. Hope that is OK? Still Arthur being adorable, so can't go wrong, right? But if you'd prefer the f!reader prompt, I can tweak it. This is the clearest image that came to my mind, so I went with it.

*I had my good friend @rivetingrosie4 beta-read this for me, so I kinda feel like its co-authored, too.

Tag: @misspearly1

ARTHUR'S SHADOW

Summary: Arthur finds an unlikely companion.

*This image is not mine. This comes from greyswan618 on fanpop.

By the time Arthur drags his latest bounty score into the sheriff's office, it's late in the day. And this one, although not necessarily hard to catch, took him a while to track down. This job was good money, but it has left Arthur exhausted. The sun is already hanging low in the sky outside of town and preparing to descend behind the mountains for the day. Since the bounty paid well, Arthur decides to treat himself with a stay at the hotel before returning home. After securing his room, he pays the hotel owner to keep his horse stabled overnight as well. May as well treat his horse too.

After walking back outside, Arthur takes Buck by the reins and leads him around to the back of the hotel to where the stable is. When he finds the stable empty, Arthur leads him to one of the larger stalls, since Buck is a rather large horse. He gets him bedded down for the night, taking off his saddle and brushing him down.

With Buck cleaned up, Arthur walks over to the rain barrel just outside the main door of the stable to fill the water trough in the stall. As he stands at the barrel, a sudden rustling catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. Turning to his left, he notices two pairs of shining eyes staring back at him from under the workbench that lines the wall. Curious, Arthur tilts his head to get a better look. He slowly puts down the bucket that is in his hands.

When he crouches down closer to the barn floor, he sees two tiny kittens hiding there. Even with the encroaching darkness of the evening, with the help of the glow of the lamplight, he can tell they’re still very young. Their fur is just growing out of that baby-fuzz stage, the gray color of rain clouds, and they're awfully skinny. Arthur looks around to see if he can see any signs of the momma anywhere, but there's nothing nearby. Either she is out hunting for food for her babies, or she's abandoned them here.

The fatigue in Arthur’s body is no longer his focus, now that he’s found these little ones.

“Well, look at you,” he chuckles quietly. He reaches into his satchel at his side and pulls out a piece of dried fish that he has tucked away. "Bet you're hungry," he says, his voice rumbly, but soft to keep from frightening them.

He holds out the piece of meat, but the two kittens do not move and only stare back at him with scared, vacant eyes.

"Alright, then," he says with a smile and tosses the meat over to them, so they don’t have to leave the security of their hiding place.

The kittens both spring backwards, tripping over each other clumsily, as the projectile hurtles towards them and lands just in front of their tiny faces. But it only takes a second before curiosity and hunger gets the better of them. Once they get a whiff of the aroma of the meat, the kittens pounce on it and begin to devour the morsel.

Satisfied, Arthur stands up, wiping his hands together. He goes back to getting Buck watered and fed for the night, humming peacefully to himself as he does. Every now and then, he glances over his shoulder to watch the kittens, who are feasting on the fish.

With his task with Buck now complete, Arthur heads back to the barn door to return to his room for the night, his boots scraping across the dirt as he moves. The kittens pause momentarily in their feast to cautiously watch him, their little heads bobbing up and down, before returning their attention to the food.

The next morning, Arthur is early to rise from his hotel room and heads out to the stable. But as he approaches the big stable door, he slows his pace as he is met with a gruesome sight. In the tall grasses just outside the door, he finds the body of one of the baby kittens. Judging by the way the carcass is torn open, it looks like a raccoon or hawk got to it.

"Ah, damn…" sighs Arthur as a slight pang of disappointment hits him. They were cute little things, and it’s a real shame that something happened to them. But such is the way of things, he supposes. He then looks around for the second one. Having some small hope that the other kitten may still be alive, Arthur makes a clicking sound with his tongue, trying to coax it out of hiding. After a few moments, he sees a flash of gray fur under a beam in the stable. He bends down and pats his hand on the ground, and the second kitten slowly creeps out towards him.

"Looks like you're an orphan, now," Arthur says to the kitten, slightly tilting his head to the side and assessing the situation. "Ain't we a pair, then?" he chuckles softly.

Arthur slowly reaches over and picks up the kitten by the scruff, the little one giving a soft and pathetic "meow" as it's hoisted up. He holds the kitten up before his face to get a better look. It seems alright, no fleas or other parasites that are noticeable. It appears to be a male cat, too. Arthur places him in the palm of his other hand. The kitten is so tiny to begin with, and with Arthur's large hands, the babe sits perfectly within his palm. He twists his wrist back and forth, pivoting his hand, so he can continue looking over the kitten, trying to decide what to do with it now. The kitten simply stares back at Arthur with tiny smokey blue-gray eyes, blinking innocently, an occasional "meow" squeaking out of its petite mouth.

Arthur sighs with resignation. "Alright, little one. Better come back with me. You won't make it out here on your own, that's for sure."

Arthur pauses another moment, looking at the kitten in his hand, second-guessing whether he's making the right decision to take this cat with him. He's never particularly cared for cats. They always seem so temperamental and judgmental. He gets enough of that bullshit from people. Dogs. Arthur is a dog-person, with Copper being his pride and joy and best friend as a kid growing up with Hosea and Dutch. And, of course, there's always been his horses as his constant companions.

Sighing again with a shrug, he adds, "Well, maybe you can keep Jack company."

Arthur carefully sets the kitten back down and gives him another piece of fish out of his satchel to keep the kitten occupied while he gets Buck saddled and ready to head out and start for home. It's another day's ride, so Arthur is anxious to get going. By the time the kitten has gobbled up the food Arthur gave him, Arthur is ready to go and gently scoops up the kitten again and mounts his horse to begin the journey home.

As they ride out of town, Arthur protectively holds the kitten in his arm, close to his chest. The kitten doesn't move or fuss, but simply lifts its tiny face, turning about to look around at what's around him. After a while of riding, though, Arthur's arm begins to tire, and the kitten's fur up against him is making him start to sweat a bit. He needs to decide what to do with this cat so they can comfortably ride home. He considers putting him in his satchel, but quickly decides against it, worried the kitten would either suffocate inside the leather bag, or, get into all of the contents of the bag itself.

Noting how calm the kitten has been so far, Arthur simply decides to set the kitten down in front of him in the saddle. He's small enough to sit there between Arthur's thick thighs, and his burly forearms keep the kitten contained in the space pretty well. The kitten instantly sinks its claws into the leather of the saddle, bracing itself in a slight panic at being released from Arthur's protective grasp. But although the horse beneath them is walking at a brisk pace, his gait is smooth, so Arthur doesn't worry too much about the kitten getting jostled about.

And soon enough, the kitten finds its bravery and relaxes to release its claws from the soft material and sits up a bit. Arthur doesn't say anything, or hinder the kitten in any way, but watches the little one, amused at its quest for discovery. It doesn't take long for the kitten to gain more confidence, and he eventually climbs up to stand, putting his front paws up on the saddle horn. Like a tiny lion sentinel, the kitten observes the new world around himself.

After a long day's ride, Arthur decides to stop and make a small camp and settle in for the night. Once he finds a quiet, out-of-the-way spot, he halts Buck. Arthur wearily climbs down from his saddle, kitten in-hand, and sets the baby down on the ground to wander about in the cool grass while he sets up his temporary camp.

"Stick close. Don't be goin' and wanderin' off and gettin' into trouble," he warns the kitten with a pointed finger, as if scolding a child.

The furry face simply stares back at him, offering Arthur a quick "meow" in response.

Arthur goes about setting himself up for the evening, getting a small fire going first. Next, he pulls a can of food out of his saddlebag and proceeds to open it. He casually watches the kitten out of the corner of his eye, constantly keeping watch over him as he works. He sets the can next to the fire to heat up while he continues with his task at hand.

Arthur gets his bedroll set out and sets Buck's saddle atop it to use as a pillow to sleep against later. And all the while Arthur works, the gray kitten putters about his feet, following him around continuously as he moves. With every item that Arthur sets down, the kitten eagerly saunters over to sniff and investigate it. He constantly follows and lingers about Arthur's footsteps, poking at everything in innocent interest, to the point that Arthur has to watch his step so the kitten doesn't come under one of his massive footfalls and gets stepped on.

With camp finally set up, Arthur returns his attention to the can that has been warming by the fire as tonight's dinner. He grabs the can, pulls a fork from his bag, and settles down on his bedroll, leaning back against his saddle to get comfortable. Arthur lifts his eyes from the food in his hand to see the kitten slowly approach him. Now that the man has finally stopped moving long enough, the kitten can get up close to him again. The aroma of the food intrigues the little one and he lifts his tiny head, hungrily sniffing the air.

Raising an eyebrow, Arthur spears a few of the beans with the time-worn tines of the fork and extends his arm out to the kitten. "Ya like beans?" he asks the ball of fur.

The kitten cautiously sniffs the food, but turns its nose up at it, backing away.

"Come on now, you eat what's offered or you don't eat at all," he scolds the kitten. "At least that's what my momma used to say." Arthur waves the fork out in front of the kitten again to try to coax it to eat. "Come on…gotta at least try it."

The kitten comes back to him, sniffing again and reluctantly extends its neck out and licks the morsel with its tiny pink sandpaper tongue. After a few licks, the kitten decides it's edible and grabs the piece off of the end of the utensil.

"Atta, boy," Arthur says approvingly. He smirks to himself, realizing how ridiculous he sounds having a conversation with a cat. But then again, he talks to Buck all of the time, so he supposes that this really isn't all that different.

After Arthur and the kitten finish the can of beans, Arthur lays back against the saddle again to relax, his heavy frame melting into the bedroll beneath him, and lights a cigarette. He lets out a long, tired sigh as his eyes land on the kitten once more. As Arthur shuffles his foot a bit to get comfortable, the kitten takes great interest in the movement of his boot and decides to test his bravery.

His little butt rises in the air, tiny tail like an arrow straight up and at attention. The kitten crawls along the ground on his belly, attempting to be stealth-like. Arthur sees this and with a grin, he slowly waves his foot a bit again in temptation. And when he does, the kitten pounces on his boot, attacking it playfully and bites on the leather of the sole. The gruff outlaw lets out a soft laugh of amusement through his nose and begins to slowly wave his foot back and forth at the ankle, causing the kitten, who has wrapped himself around the boot, to sway back and forth above the ground. After a few more gnawing bites, the kitten plops down to the ground, confident in its own victory.

Fully invested in this as his entertainment for the evening, Arthur reaches over to his gambler's hat that is set off to the side, leans forward and drops it overtop of the kitten, trapping it underneath. There is no further movement, but Arthur can hear its little meows from under it. Smirking with his cigarette dangling from his chapped lips, he carefully picks up just the brim of the hat and tilts his head to peer under it.

He sees the kitten's little nose and a thin little paw swipe out at him, causing Arthur to chuckle.

"Fighter, ain't ya?" When Arthur lifts the hat up a bit more, the kitten quickly hops out from under it, grabs ahold of Arthur's forearm, and starts grappling with it, biting and digging its needle-like claws into Arthur's shirt and leather gloves.

Amused, Arthur rests his arm on the ground, carefully pinning the playful kitten underneath. He playfully growls at the kitten and uses his hand to roll the ball of fur over and over again, wrestling and playing with him.

When the kitten finally wears out, Arthur pauses to give him a break. The kitten stands up and gives itself a full-body shake, causing little pieces of grass and dirt to fly through the air. He's a scrappy little thing. Arthur will give him credit for that, at least. Arthur slowly pulls his black leather gloves off of his hands and reaches over to tuck them into his saddlebag, as he is truly getting settled in for the evening now.

The kitten sits on the bedroll next to his thigh, innocently watching Arthur as he moves. Arthur rolls back to lie flat and glances at the kitten for a moment before he extends his large fingertip out to rub along the top of the kitten's head, right between its ears. The kitten's eyes slowly close as it gives into the heavenly feeling, and it eagerly pushes its head up into Arthur's hand. Arthur can hear the kitten purring happily, the soft sound almost hypnotic.

"Ya like that, do ya?" Arthur's low voice rumbles in the quiet night. It's funny how such a small gesture can be so impactful on another living soul. The campfire crackles and pops softly next to them, being the only background noise to be heard in the night; its heat radiating and keeping the two of them cozy and warm.

Arthur eventually ceases petting the kitten and returns his hands to his lap. At the abrupt end to its massage, the kitten looks at Arthur again expectantly, and springs up to stand atop Arthur's chest. Inquisitive as ever, it crouches a bit and crawls towards Arthur's face, its head bobbing up and down, as cats are want to do when stalking their object of interest.

Just as the kitten gets close to Arthur's face, Arthur purses his lips together and blows a short burst of air into its face, causing it to jump back in surprise. It then suddenly leaps forward again in challenge and starts to chew on Arthur's beard. This causes Arthur to bark out a laugh a bit in spite of himself. To see such an innocent creature, so full of energy, warms his bitter old heart. He brings his hands up to start to pet the kitten again, running his large hands along its diminutive and skeletal body. After just a brief moment, the kitten seems placated with this as an "apology" and switches from biting at the man's beard to the occasional lick to his nose instead. And even though it is meant to comfort the kitten, Arthur has to admit that stroking the soft fur is oddly calming to himself as well.

"Alright, then, that's enough of that," Arthur grunts out as he picks up the kitten with one hand and sets him off to the side of him again and reaches over to grab his journal. Arthur rolls himself to sit up with an exaggerated groan, and sets the precious book onto his folded legs, opening the pages to the next blank ivory-colored page. He hasn't even set his pencil to the paper yet, when the curious kitten jumps up to perch itself on his knee.

The small face peers down to inspect the latest object of focus. Before Arthur can even stop him, the kitten hops down onto the book itself and starts walking around in circles on the pages, sniffing and inspecting it, chewing the corner just briefly, before plopping down to lay himself right across the smooth, open surface. The kitten innocently looks up at Arthur, wanting his undivided attention yet again.

"No, now, come on, fuzz-butt, get outta here now," he gruffly chides, but with only a slight annoyance in his voice as he playfully sweeps the kitten to the side with his forearm. The kitten meows in protest, lifting its paw to swat at Arthur's hand. "Hey, don't sass me, now. We're done playin' for the night."

And by this time, exhaustion has finally caught up to both Arthur and the little gray kitten, so Arthur only takes a few minutes to capture some brief thoughts in the journal before turning in for the night. He notes the job he completed, the money brought in for it, and then jots a few lines about this kitten that he'd found. He even takes a moment to quickly sketch the little one onto the paper, the strokes of the graphite tip skipping fluidly across the paper. Every time Arthur looks over at the furry ball for a perspective to assist in his drawing, the tiny face peers back at him, watching the pencil move in Arthur's hand, but obediently staying put.

When he's done, Arthur carefully closes his journal and tucks it back into its rightful place in his satchel. Taking a deep breath and stretching his tired arms over his head for a brief moment, Arthur then takes his hat and scoops the kitten into it in an effort to keep him safe and warm overnight while they sleep. He's hoping the little adventurer stays put and doesn't wander off in the night.

"There, now," peering down at the babe. "You stay there tonight, and then we'll get you home to Jack tomorrow." Arthur rubs his fingertips along the kitten's head again, gently scratching its scalp with his jagged fingernails, and then sets the hat right next to him, protectively along his side, before lying back and closing his eyes for the night.

The next morning, as the warm sunlight breaks over the horizon, consciousness slowly grabs ahold of the outlaw. He can feel the chill of the morning dew clinging to his clothing. With his eyes still sealed shut, reluctant to release the bliss of sleep just yet, Arthur stretches his body, hearing the familiar popping sound of his joints. He's getting too old to be sleeping on the cold, hard ground anymore.

Suddenly, he is aware of a slight weight on his abdomen. He peels open his eyes and sees the kitten curled up into a tight ball on his stomach, fast asleep, with its nose buried into the fur of its tail. It obviously crawled out of the make-shift bed of Arthur's hat and climbed up on top of the man at some point in the night. Whether it was seeking protection or warmth, Arthur's own body heat and the slow rise and fall of his chest kept the tiny animal comforted while it slept. The corners of Arthur's lips involuntarily pull up and a whispered "aww" escapes before he can even stop it.

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

When he gets back to camp, Arthur dismounts his horse and walks through the collection of tents and tables with the kitten tucked in his hand. He heads straight over to Dutch's tent to drop off the bounty payment. Dutch is sitting outside his tent, reading a book with a cigar clenched between his teeth, and as he gets closer, Arthur eventually sets the kitten down on the ground to walk so that his hands are free to dig into his satchel for the bounty money. The kitten continues to follow him as he heads over to the cash box and ledger in Dutch's tent. Dutch lifts his head as he notices Arthur's approach, but quickly tilts his head in confusion as he glances down at the little bundle of gray fur at Arthur's feet.

"What you got there, Arthur?" asks Dutch, pointing at the new arrival.

"Hmm? Oh. Found him. Thought he'd be a good playmate for Jack," says Arthur dismissively, focusing more on his scribbling into the job ledger.

"Well, ain't you the soft-hearted one?" Dutch muses with a slightly mocking grin before he leans over to get a good look at the kitten, reaching his ringed-fingers out to briefly pet him.

"Oh my goodness, look at that little face!" squeals Mary-Beth suddenly when she catches sight of the kitten while walking past the men. In a moment, she rushes over. She bends down and scoops up the kitten into her slender hands and snuggles him into her face. "Tilly! Come quick! Look what Arthur brought home!" she hollers over to her friend who is doing some stitching at one of the tables.

Tilly is quick to her feet and rushes over to join them, eager to see what the excitement is all about. Soon enough, a small group has started to gather around Dutch's tent to see the baby kitten.

"Awww, isn't he just the cutest!" exclaims Tilly, running her fingers over the kitten's fur. "Arthur, are we gonna keep him?" she asks him excitedly.

"Don't matter to me, but I thought Jack might like 'em," replies Arthur, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands back and watches them fawn all over the kitten.

"Jack, come here and see the kitten!" Tilly calls to Jack and Abigail and waves them over.

Jack runs over to them at the invitation, excited to see what they have for him. The second his eyes land on the tiny bundle of fur, Jack gasps with excitement and wonder, his pudgy little hands waving slightly in anticipation as he runs. Mary-Beth sets the kitten down in the grass again as Jack approaches so that the boy can play with him. And thankfully, rather than being timid and frightened by the commotion, the kitten is all too excited to play as well, absolutely loving the attention. Jack gets down on his knees and immediately starts to pet the kitten, talking and cooing to it.

"Momma! He's so soft!" he giggles.

"He sure is," agrees Abigail as she too kneels down next to Jack and reaches over to run her fingers along the tiny feline. "Be careful, though, Jack," she gently tells him. "Be gentle with him so he doesn't bite or scratch you."

"I will, Momma, I promise!" the little boy squeaks in excitement.

Standing back a few feet from the girls and Jack, Dutch and Arthur watch the happy sight.

"Good work, son," says Dutch quietly, patting Arthur on the shoulder and giving him an approving grin.

Arthur casts his eyes over at Dutch with a nod of acceptance in return. And upon seeing that his new traveling companion is in good hands now, Arthur turns and decides to head over to the fire to sit and relax his tired self.

Suddenly, despite the attention he's getting, the kitten notices Arthur moving again and instantly becomes alarmed, his little head poking up to attention. At the sight of the burly outlaw leaving him, the kitten darts away from Jack and the girls, squeezing his way between their legs, and quickly catches up to Arthur's boot-heels. Surprised, Arthur halts and looks down at the kitten.

"Now what are you doin'?" he asks the kitten. "Go on, go play with Jack," as he lowers his hand down to sweep the cat towards Jack again. He stands upright and moves on, walking over to grab a beer bottle from one of the crates. He ungracefully plunks himself down next to John on one of the logs by the fire where other gang members currently reside.

Of course, the kitten is right back behind Arthur with every step. And, of course, Jack is right behind the kitten, giggling excitedly, trying to keep up. The sight of the three of them walking about is really quite sweet; like a duck and her two ducklings tailing behind. Abigail's fingers hover gracefully over her mouth as she smiles, watching them. Arthur has always been good to both her and Jack, and Abigail is quite grateful for it. And right now, her son is just over-the-moon about his new present from his grumpy uncle. She casually walks over to the fire to join everyone, and stands behind her boy.

Sean is already sitting by the fire with Karen in his lap and notices the commotion. "Aww, would ya look at Arthur Morgan, there! The most wanted man in da tri-county area, carrin' on wit a little pussy cat," jokes Sean, "I thought you were supposed ta be da mean one 'round here, Arthur!"

"Shut it, Sean," huffs Arthur, as he reaches down and absentmindedly pats the kitten along its side when it takes a seat on the ground at his feet. "I brought him home for Jack."

"That was mighty nice of you, Arthur. Thank you," praises Abigail as she beams brightly at her son. Jack is currently crouched on the ground right next to the kitten and talking to it as if they are already the best of friends.

Arthur says nothing in response, but simply nods to her as a "you're welcome" while taking a big gulp from his beer bottle.

"Well, Jack, what are you gonna name him?" asks Hosea, his face pulling into a huge smile at the sound of the boy's laughter.

The kitten begins to playfully explore again, taking a real liking to Jack, as it climbs all over him. Its nose sniffs all about the boy's face, the softness of the fur dragging delightfully across his rosy cheeks with a ticklish effect.

"What about 'Milo'?" suggests Mary-beth, who has come to take her place by the fire as well, choosing a spot on the ground close to Jack so that she too can play with the kitten.

"Nah, he don't look like a 'Milo'" says Jack, his eyes still glued to the little cat.

"How 'bout 'Oliver'?" Abigail offers.

But Jack only scrunches his little face up even more in displeasure as he continues to think of the perfect name for his new companion.

"I suppose 'Fluffy' is out of the question, then?" jokes John as he too reaches over to wiggle his fingers in front of the kitten in an effort to join his son and play.

"No!" laughs Jack. "That's not right, either!"

The boy sits quietly, his eyebrows knit in deep thought, as if this is the most important decision he has to make in his young life. And he is quick to notice that the kitten springs into motion every time Arthur moves a muscle. When Arthur stands up to get a log for the fire, the kitten hops up and follows him. When Arthur sits, the kitten is right at his heels again.

"I'm gonna name him 'Shadow'," says Jack definitively, reaching over to pet his kitten, which is still perched at the large man's feet.

"Oh, that's a good one, Jack," his mother encourages. "'Cause he's gray?"

"No! Because he's Uncle Arthur's shadow!" says Jack emphatically at the obvious conclusion.

This observation causes Arthur to pause for a moment. His chest tightens just a bit, flattered by Jack's choice. He looks down at the kitten sitting by his boot, its little face and beautiful eyes peering back at him.

Arthur reaches down and rubs his rough and calloused fingers over Shadow's head, curling the pads of his fingertips around his velvety ears. He grins, but just ever so slightly, a softness settling there that rarely shows. "Huh…'Shadow'…I rather like that."

[dnarez]

Chapter 3

You woke up when you felt someone picking you up and caring you around. "Dad?..." you asked without opening your eyes.

"Sorry Dondon, it's grandpa, your dad is also sleeping" you knew that he was walking around by the light sway of his body.

"I'm hungry..." you open your eyes a bit to see the small one-floor house in front of you

"I know, but you can sleep more, since I still have to order the takeout, you know I can't cook" when he chuckles you can feel his chest rumbling and whistling a bit, as he goes inside the house he turns on the light.

"You should stop smoking, if you keep going like that you won't make it to my wedding, I need you to help me to stop dad, so that he won't murder grandpa Doffy" you start to trace the makeup lines on his face.

"Don't start it, I already have to hear that from your father... And why would your dad want to murder Doffy on your wedding?" He smiles at you and gently puts you down on the couch, covering you with a blanket that he always have on the couch.

You shrug "He probably will say something that dad won't like, maybe he will bring one of his maids, just like he did on my 8th birthday"

Roci laughs and nods "He probably will do something like that, and I had forgotten about your birthday fiasco" he kisses your forehead and looks at the door. ''I will go wake up your dad, then I will order some pizza okay?"

"I already ate pizza yesterday" you pout knowing that he will give in if you act cute.

He smiles again ''How about some ramen then?"

''Yes please! I want mine with a lot of pork meat!'' You sit on the couch no longer sleepy.

He huffs and pats your head "And medium with the spiciness right?"

"How did you know!?" you were surprised by this, your grandpa, wasn't supposed to know your tastes since it's been years the last time you have seen each other.

"Your father would complain to me from time to time that he took your bento box by mistake instead of his own, and yours always has a lot of pepper on it" he takes out his phone from his pocket and dials a number "I will be back with your father, take another nap or a bath, your bag is already on your room, the last door on the corridor is mine, the second on the left is your fathers, and the one next to that one is yours, I have my own bathroom, yours and your father's bathroom is on the door in front of your bedroom".

You get up and nods to him "I will take a bath" you go to your bedroom and find it simple, a computer desk, a bed in the middle of the room, an empty wardrobe and a big window, the house is pretty much western style, your father said that almost no one of his friends like the traditional Japanese style... with some exceptions.

Inside your bag was your beauty bag, where it had your shampoo, conditioner, liquid soap and other self care stuff, you like to take care of yourself, it's relaxing, and if you need something right now after such long travel is to relax, maybe you should do a face mask on your dad, his skin is in need of some care too.

After taking a clean towel and your favorite pajama you went to the bathroom, and was surprised to see that it was in Japanese style.

'What a confused house... but the bathroom is so luxurious!!'

While you were taking your time to relax, soaping your body and washing your hair before going inside the bathtub you heard your father and your grandpa chatting, it wasn't clear, but the chat didn't seem pleasant.

'Dad will find a new job fast, he's awesome I know he can do it, that lady Robin, Marco and Sabo from the Newgate's family will give me classes, then I have training with mister Ace, and Luffy... my day to day will be very busy, even if I don't have school'

You sigh and finish washing off the products from your body, now you can go inside the bath! Sadly you don't have a bath bomb, your mother didn't like the smell of them... even if she was never even close to you on a daily basis...

'Even if dad was busy he found some time to spend with me, even if I was just quiet on his office doing homework or taking naps in the afternoon with him when he had his day's off, but mom...'

You hug your legs and put your chin on your knees. 'Grandpa Doffy is always smiling, just like mom... it's creepy...'

Taking a deep breath you dive totally underwater.

'So quiet... and so comfy too... maybe I should get out and explore the neighborhood, I'm sure grandpa and dad will be busy tomorrow, and our things will take a week or two to get here, so class will take quite some time to start, I have some free time to explore... dad probably thought about this too' it's getting hard to breath, so you sit again on the tub, coughing a little.

Hearing a knock you focus on the door "Hey Y/n! Everything fine there?"

You chuckled at your dad's reaction "Yeah, everything's fine, sorry for taking too long, I will get out of here soon"

"Okay... the food is here" that surprises you, so you smile and get out of the tub.

"I'll be there in a minute!" You dry yourself with your fluffy towel and put your favorite pajama, that would be a shirt with your dad's tattoo and sweatpants.

You put on a pill off face mask, and get out off the bathroom.

When your family sees your shirt both of them smile. You walk to the kitchen where your food was, take it and goes back to sit in the middle of your dad and grandpa.

As soon as you open your box of deliciousness your father squint his nose at the red color of your lamen. "Did you knew that you could damage your stomach with that much pepper?"

"Yes, I know" then you proceed to look at him while eating a mouth full of your red lamen.

Grandpa laughs at the two of you, his smile is the best one there is.

You all eat, while at it, you notice your dad's eye bags, he probably didn't sleep well, and your grandpa was lost in thought from time to time.

After eating in silence, you washed the dishes, at the couch your dad was almost asleep.

'He will have pain on his neck if I let him sleep there...' so after some thinking you decided to put your dad on his bed.

Being extra grateful for your quirk, you take a random shirt and put it on your dad's bed, then you activate your quirk by saying "Room" just like your father, a blue translucent dome fits around you, it's big and takes the space around the whole house.

Inside it, you can manipulate everything as you wish, so simply do something like changing the shirt that was on top of his bed, with him while saying "Shambles"

And VOILÁ! Your dads on his bed.

You smile and cover him, but is surprised when you see him opening his eye.

"You know... you could have woken me"

You shake your head. "You need to sleep more dad, I'm going to bed too, so that I can explore the neighborhood a little"

He keeps looking at you and sighs, moving a little to the side and opening his arm. "Lay down and sleep with me, I know you have a problem to sleep in new places, I don't want your grandpa calling me while fricking out about you passed out"

You huff and lay down next to him "that was only one time!" You puff your cheeks, and he covers you with the blanket.

Nodding he holds your hand, keeping a certain distance from you, like always "sleep"

You turn off your quirk and close your eyes, ready to sleep, the last thing you feel is your dad kissing your forehead.

[cosmiciaria]

In defense of Detroit Become Human (spoilers marked - long post!)

I know I arrived late at the party and everything that could've been said about this game has already been said – but I do want to add some things I haven't found in some reviews I’ve come across, while addressing all the flaws and giving credit where credit is due. And believe it or don't, this game is due a lot of credit. Yes, a game by David Cage is due credit, what has the world come to?

I must admit I'm not the greatest of fans of Cage's works. I can see all the flaws and plot holes in his games/interactive movies, but unlike others, I'm not that bothered by them. Hell, there are plot holes in many good stories and even the greatest games have some flaws, sometimes it feels people like picking one director and hating on them (cof cof, Tabata from Square cof). This doesn't mean Cage is free of sins, since that's far from reality: I still remember the Ellen Page's controversy with her naked model inside the game, and the creepy things they did to Madison in Heavy Rain for no reason whatsoever. Man, I think you should revalue some of your fetishes.

But aside from that, his games are heavily narrated focus, straying too far from the ordinary hero path and 'saving the world with the power of friendship'. He's stated there are so many things we can do in the videogame industry, and that most developers stick to the usual formula, just because they know it works and it profits. And I can understand his point of view, and even support it, that's why I always try to find something good in his games, even when the dialogues are bad and some acting leaves much to be desired – that happens in every game, in every movie, in every series.

Detroit Become Human is, by far, the best work by Cage. I can say so with full confidence: it's the first of his stories whose plot seem cohesive, coherent, whose characters undergo a visible and palpable development throughout the whole game, whose decisions and paths actually cross-impact later chapters and your choices do shape the way the story unfolds. I stress this because, for example in Beyond, your choices didn't matter much – even the QTE's were pretty useless. You just decided how the game would end in the last ten minutes of plot and that was it. Detroit, on the other hand, is so well planned that things you've done in the very first chapter have repercussions later down the line, and it's not like there's just two endings, but a lot of them, and lot of combinations that I'm still discovering. Your choices affect the during of the story, not just the ending. You can have good relationship with someone, or a bad one, and that will affect each scene those characters are in. You can have a good reputation with a group, or they can hate you, and so you will be ejected from the team. You can act irrational, or stay forever a machine, and the last big choice regarding that will depend of your actions across the whole game.

Just the decision making is a huge step up from previous works. And I can only compare this game to Until Dawn, but even in there, there are less decisions and less impact. Detroit is overwhelmingly huge when it comes to different paths and different versions of the same story. So much so that I told a friend who was also playing it about a scene, and she said 'wait, when does that happen? I didn't see it!'. It was as if we were talking about different games.

Detroit is about androids. It's the year 2038 and androids have flooded the market. They're like your usual vacuum but, hey, they can cook, take care of your children and even satisfy you sexually. They are such a common thing to see in the city that people ignore them. Most families have at least one android in their household, becoming completely reliant on their features. This is a future not so far away from our present.

But, lo and behold, because this game will explore the idea of 'freedom'. And, as you could've expected, some androids suddenly realize they don't want to work for humans anymore. Some androids are mistreated by their owners and suddenly they know they're in an unfair situation. Some androids have ambitions, dreams, ideas – some androids have the desire to be free.

And so, they become deviants. An artificial intelligence, capable of billions of simultaneous operations, young forever, and with conscience. Afraid, yet?

We will follow three main characters who happen to be androids: Connor, Markus and Kara. Connor is a prototype designed to assist investigators and police officers with cases, and he comes with many features that will facilitate all the analysis of clues. Markus is an android designed to care for an old man who has lost his mobility, and lives with him and cares for him as if he were his son. Kara is a housemaid android, who specializes in cleaning and taking care of children, but her owner is a drug-addict who forgot what it means to be a father.

Markus and Kara realize their unfair situation pretty early in the game, so they become deviants well at the beginning. Connor, on the other hand… well, it's in your hands to decide his fate.

Their stories will be intertwined: Connor will investigate cases involving deviants, alongside his sidekick – I mean, his partner, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, an old, anti-android human whose past is yet to be revealed; Markus will be falsely accused of aggression towards his owner or his son (depending what you choose), and he will come back from the dead, ready to lead a revolution against humans, demanding androids' rights; Kara will realize she wants to be a mother, and she will save the daughter of her owner from that hellhole they live in, only to travel from one corner of the city to another in search for an escape route. While Connor's and Markus's stories are well entangled, Kara's always felt a bit separated from them, which can be a huge let down. Personally, Kara's story was the one I enjoyed the least, but it has to do with something that happens at the end – that stupid plot twist – besides, it's more than clear in Kara's plotline that all the BS Cage loved from his previous games makes a return in here. Sometimes it felt like he left blender open and all the disastrous ideas he had for her story were spilled all over his kitchen. I can't think of anything else for that, because her plotline is a Frankestein of a story – uneven, irregular, although it has some touching moments, and Valerie Curry, the actress who plays Kara, delivers some guuud acting and lines.

I know the main message this game is trying to send is that androids are equals to humans. This is the most controversial aspect of the game: Cage, whether he says he did purposely or not, has compared the androids' struggle for freedom to that of African-American people, mixing together slavery and segregation. It's funny because Cage stated it wasn't his plan to allude to actual historical events that did happen not so long ago, and still we can see the segregation of androids in public transport, in public places, and the fact that Markus, with a bunch of other androids as well, demand freedom and the end of slavery from the humans. I like it more when he asks for fair compensation for their work.

And I say it's controversial because it's sending a wrong message. Slavery and segregation weren't contemporary, one came after the other; and the fact that they make a clear comparison to that social movement is criticizable. I'm not the most expert on US history – hell I'm from Argentina, guys – but even I know that the bloody history behind the fight for equal rights is far from over and has put the country on the brink of breaking down many times. That someone deliberately compares the android's fight that took only a few months to develop to that monstrous side of US history is, uhm, questionable in the least.

BUT let's just say that it's an awful coincidence (I'm looking at you, Cage) and leave it aside for a moment. That's the main message the game tries to send. But I believe the game actually sends another message, that is better executed, better fleshed out.

Androids and humans can love each other.        

[SPOILER scroll down until you see the end of the spoiler section]

This is obvious at the beginning with Markus, if you decide to endure Leo's bullying. Carl, Markus' owner, dies from a heart attack, and Markus, crying, desperate, falls to his knees and embraces the man who's been acting like his father for years. He yells Dad, no! in front of the real son, provoking a reaction in him and in the player. Just in this tiny moment, which I think most people slip by without paying too much attention, is enough message. It explains everything.

If you decide to push Leo, the scene plays out differently, and we learn this message towards the end, still in Markus' branch. Later in the story you go back and visit Carl, who doesn't die, but is instead stuck in his bed, connected to cables and such. He regards Markus with love and tenderness, and holds his hand, saying You're my son, Markus. Your blood is a different color, but I know that a part of me lives in you. Thank you, you made me cry.

This message is also well developed in the friendship you can form with Connor and Hank. And notice the 'you can' because you can also make them hate each other. But why on earth would you make Hank mad, if not only for the trophy? Because I can't bear the idea of disappointing that good old man. I need him to be proud of me – I mean, of Connor! Their relationship is wholesome, with some instances in which Hank calls him his son, which melted my heart obviously. Knowing that Hank had lost his real son prior to the events of the game makes all this even more touching and moving.

This message is not well conveyed with Kara and Alice, and you might guess why – yes, the fact that towards the end we learn that Alice isn't a human but an android too, utterly destroys the whole concept the game has been trying to build up for this moment. I don't know why Cage thought this was a good idea – maybe trying to explain that androids can love each other as family just like humans do, but that kinda breaks the rules here, because the idea was an android discovering they can love thanks to a human, who has all the real feelings whereas the androids have this emulations and… alright you get me. How can we truly know if they love each other for real if they are two androids? How can we make sure it isn't just some emulation and chemicals inside their metal bodies? Alright I'm going too deep here? Maybe?

[END OF SPOILER SECTION]

All in all, this is the message that stays with me after playing the game. I don't know if Cage did it purposely (suddenly all his messages are casual), but this is what I can save and treasure from this story. Oh, and also, save your fucking planet, polar bears are going extinct.

Characters are really well created. Their interactions are believable and natural, the acting (specially Bryan Dechart as Connor and Clancy Brown as Hank) is flawless, and you can appreciate when they become deviant and when they start thinking for themselves. Some lines delivered by Markus felt a bit forced, but I've heard the actor talk and he talks like that so maybe is the way he speaks. There are some secondary characters that became my favorite really quick, like Luther, Kara's companion in this journey; Simon, one of the first members of the revolution Markus meet; Hank, of course, although I deem him as a main character at this point. Others, well… Gavin is your well-known bully, whose lines are so stupid I can't believe his character made it into the game. Like really, he's taken straight out of a 90's high school movie. I could hear Henry Bowers from It laughing at his attempt of being a bad boy.

On the technical department, this game is stunning. Visuals are a delight: sometimes you couldn't differentiate if it was filmed or if it was CGI. Hint: it was all CGI! Faces, expressions, animations, I can't complain of any of those. The character's eyes, which are the only thing the motion capture can't record, were all added digitally, and I'm bound to say that they're perfect: they make each character feel real, alive. You know when you're staring at something, that your eyes regard everything and your pupils have these tiny, micro, slight movements? That was in the game, and I loved it. Clothes get wet when it's raining, they get frozen when it's snowy, and lights reflect every surface so realistically that you can tell the texture of each object and piece of cloth.

Music is also a great asset in this game. Each character had a different composer, which brought a distinct and unique aspect to each of their stories. I know I've been hating on Kara until now, but I must admit her theme song is the best out of everything in this game. Even when I watched the cutscenes back when the game was released, I had her theme buried under my skin, for it's melancholic, it reminds me of rain, and it makes me wanna cry.

Another aspect I want to address is the gameplay. You know Cage loves his daily doses of QTE's. But this time, though, they're well executed. I recommend playing the game in Experienced difficulty (which is the normal difficulty), because it truly offers a more immersive experience. The use of the controller in all this was clever, and they used everything they had at their disposal to make you feel you're there in the story. For instance, the use of the vibration system of your joystick: when you pet the dog at Hank's house, you can feel a very slight vibration in your hands, as if the dog was breathing, what you would feel when you pet a dog, of course; but when you're driving a truck that leaves the sidewalk and falls into the street, you feel the sudden rough movement and the way the engine is speeding up; or you can feel heartbeats when Markus is trying to repair himself. All these instances of breaking the fourth wall to make you feel part of the story are implemented in such an intelligent way that it works wonders.

And speaking about breaking the fourth wall… In your main menu you'll have an android that will be your hostess. She will comment on the discoveries you'll be finding in your storyline, but she will also play some tricks to you or talk to you all of a sudden. And if you reach the good ending… well, there's a surprise with her. Let's just say that she's a great addition to the game and a fan favorite.

In conclusion, this is by far Cage's most polished and well thought game to date. And I've been hiding my obsession with Connor up until now so you wouldn't think I'm crazy but, I can't believe Cage created a character like this. I love him. Protect this sweet summer child. Don't make him a machine, please :'( Connor Army here I go.

If you have doubts about this game, buy it on sale. You will at least have a good time playing it and discovering the different paths. But if you like heavily narrated games, and you have at least enjoyed some of his previous works, don't miss on this one. It's really better. And it's really more worth it.

[donutpwns]

Journey to the Roots - Part 7

Part 6 - Part 8

“This paint is fresh.” Mabel points out; she can tell by the smell after all the paint she’s used over the years. She taps her fingers to the wall to find that the paint is dry. “Grunkle Ford was here thirty years ago but someone was here recently.” A chill runs down her spine and she pulls her hand away from the wall. “You don’t think Bill…?”

Dipper swallows thickly. Everything in his gut tells him they need to run but his curiosity sticks him in place. This was to figure out how to stop Bill, to protect Ford and Stan and all of Gravity Falls. Fate of the world stuff. He lets go of Mabel’s hand so he can pull out the notebook he’d tucked into the back of his shorts. Inside it he’s copied down everything Ford had between his Journals about Bill, all the symbols. He uses the notes as a translation guide, muttering and clicking his pen as he went through what he could read. There had to be something Ford had missed.

Something they could use to protect themselves from Bill beyond the barrier. They couldn’t just stay locked inside for the rest of their lives, and besides, someone from the outside could get to them. It was a safe base to stay in but that was about it.

While he studies, Mabel decides that the place really needs a makeover. Too much Bill for her liking; now that she thinks about it there’s a lot of Bill stuff at the Shack, like the rug in the gift shop. Good thing Ford hasn’t gone in there since the first day that he got really peeved about the fact that the Shack was a thing. She’ll have to toss it once they get home. But while they were here…

Dipper looks up at the sound of her giggles, his own mouth curling at the sight. Mabel’s got a thick purple marker out and is going to every painting of Bill that she can reach and adding mustaches and a single bushy brow to each. Part of him feels like they shouldn’t be graffiti-ing a piece of history like this but at the same time it’s Bill. He closes his notebook and runs over to her, taking the marker from her. He uses it to add a big speech bubble coming from a painting Bill looming over a bunch of stick people.

“’I am a living fart’? Really, that’s great, Dipper!” Mabel covers her mouth as she giggles. She takes the marker back and adds what Dipper assumes are stink lines coming from the triangle. Then she adds her own speech bubble coming from the people that read ‘peyew’ in big capital letters. “My best work to date, I think.” it could use some glitter for flavor but it'll do.

Dipper has to suppress his own giggles and pulls out one of the cameras he always has with him these days. “What is it you say? A scrapbookertunity?”

Mabel squeals and hugs her brother because he is the best. She left the Polaroid camera that Stan gave her at home. “Good thinking, Bro-Bro! This is a perfect addition to my ‘Bill is a doody face’ page.” She takes the camera from him and snaps a picture.

As soon as she does, they both feel an odd feeling wash over them. Something like déjà vu. Have they done this before?

They both look over to the painted wall a second before the voice sounds out, loud and chilling, “WELL WELL WELL WELL WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?” the paint shifts and forms a giant red eye that glares at them as all color seems to disappear around them.

Their hands find each other and squeeze tight. Mabel moves closer to her brother, the hand not in his reaching up to grip his sleeve tight. Still she forces her voice to be loud and full, because you can't let the monsters know you're scared, that's what Ford says. “Go away, Bill!”

“HEY, THAT'S HURTFUL, SHOOTING STAR. YOU'RE THE ONE THAT CAME AND KNOCKED ON MY DOOR.” the paint shifts again into the shape of Bill; he peels himself off the wall with a sickening sound. There's an audible POP once he's free and he changes from red to yellow. “I'VE MISSED YOU BOTH, EVEN YOU, PINE TREE. HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO VISIT SINCE YOU PUT UP THAT BARRIER.”

“That’s kinda the point.” Dipper squeezes his sister's hand, glaring at the triangle. This all seems too familiar. He can't fight the feeling that he's forgetting something, something important.

Bill shrugs and begins floating around them in a lazy circle. “AND HERE I WAS HOPING YOU WOULD HELP ME WITH SOMETHING.”

Mabel snorts, grip loosening on Dipper’s sleeve. “As if we’d help you! We hate you, you pointy jerk!”

“THAT’S FAIR. BUT KNOW WHAT’S NOT HATEFUL? GIVING SECOND CHANCES AND HELPING SOMEONE FIND A LONG LOST FRIEND. ISN’T THAT THE SORTA THING YOU LOVE TO DO, SHOOTING STAR?” He moves in super close, forcing both twins to stumble back a few steps, and gives Mabel’s nose a tweak. The lower lid of his eye takes up most of his eye and his whole body seems to shake with manic giggles. “I JUST NEED YOU TO HELP ME FIND MY BEST FRIEND AND I’LL BE OUT OF YOUR LIVES FOREVER. INTERDIMINSIONAL SCOUTS HONOR!” he lifts a hand in a sort of salute.

Mabel might not be as smart as her brother, but even she can see through Bill’s crap. Normally she’d jump at the chance to reunite long lost friends, it’d be like something out of one of her books, but Bill didn’t have any friends that he needed to be with anymore. So she sticks her tongue out at him. “Never!”

The eye moves to focus on Dipper. “C’MON, PINE TREE. JUST SHAKE MY HAND. I'LL FIND MY FRIEND AND THEN YOU TWO WILL NEVER HEAR FROM ME AGAIN.” he sticks out his hand, blue flames lit up around it.

Mabel holds her brother's arm tighter and hisses, “Bill makes bad deals, Dipper, we can't trust him."

Dipper knows his sister's probably right, but he has a theory that he's been kicking around since he found out about Ford’s deal. It's like an old fairytale, the kind their mom used to read them. You have to be very particular with how you word your deal. That's how Bill tricked them, by following the letter of what he agreed to in the moment he shook your hand, not the intended meaning. “I help you find your friend and the moment you find them, you leave us alone forever. Got it? You never mess with us or our grunkles ever again?”

“YOU DRIVE A HARD BARGAIN, PINE TREE. BUT SURE. IT'S A DEAL!” the flames grew brighter, bigger. “SHAKE MY HAND AND YOU WILL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN ONCE I GET MY FRIEND BACK!”

Dipper takes a deep breath and reaches for Bill’s hand. Even if this fails, they have Ford now, the expert on Bill. He was sure that his family could stop Bill if he messed up. But if it succeeds, then they would be free of Bill and all Dipper has to do is be possessed for a little. Sure, last time he had to shower like thirty times before he felt even a little clean, but that was a small price to pay to be a hero. It’s what Ford would do in his place, he’s sure.

Her brother is an idiot, a complete moron. This can't end well. “Wait!” she grabs her brother’s wrist before he can touch Bill. She swallows thickly; this was such a bad idea. But what was it that Stan and Ford used to say when they were kids? Wherever we go, we go together. And if there was a chance that this could work, that they could be free of Bill, that they could protect their uncles...She trusts Dipper. “Make the deal with both of us.”

“Mabel, no.” This was his bad idea; if it went south, she had to stop him. “You can't—"

She squeezes his hand extra tight, meeting his eyes. She's scared, he knows and he hates it, but she's not going to back down. “Trust me.” She whispers, the permanent exception to the rule, before looking back at Bill. She sticks out the hand not holding Dipper’s. “C'mon. Two twins for the price of one. That's a deal.”

Bill rubs under his eye with his thumb and index finger, making a vibrating humming sound. His eye darts between them and narrows. Then he crosses his arms as he stretches a hand to each of them, blue flames glowing bright in the dim cave. “IT'S A DEAL!”

The moment before they take his hands, Dipper freezes. Wait. No, they've done this before. They've shaken his hands before and then...then they find Blandin and Dipper wakes up in the snow. This has all happened before.

The circle of candles, the ropes, Stan’s hand on his head and the sounds of Ford reciting the spell.

“This is a memory.” he pulls Mabel back before she can shake Bill's hand; he should've done that in the first place. This was such a monumental bad idea, how could he have thought it wasn't? Oh he was so stupid. “Mabel, this isn't real! This is a memory! We're in our mindscape!”

Mabel is confused for a moment before her mind catches up. She looks up at where Bill is frozen above them, hands glowing but unmoving, like a movie that's been paused. She steps forward and waves a hand in front of his face. Nothing. “So this is weird.” a grin steals her face and she picks up the marker she’d dropped when Bill had showed up so she can make him match his painting.

It wasn't just her fault; the cave had been her idea, but the deal had been Dipper’s. They screwed up together. Now they could fix it together. Knowing that made her feel braver, made her feel less garbage. The Mystery Twins could break and then fix anything.

Now they just have to save their uncles. “We've gotta find Stan and Ford.” She looks at her brother and grabs his hand again. Bill can't keep them apart in their own heads. And it's the mindscape, the place where she could have rocket powered kitten fists! “Before Bill finds whoever he's looking for.”

Who could Bill be looking for back in this time? Ford was the one who summoned him and Ford hadn't told anyone else about Bill so—

They both squeeze each other's hand together as the realization dawns.

“You don't think he's looking for…?” Dipper starts.

“...Younkle Ford had to go to sleep to do the spell, didn't he?” Mabel continues.

They both swear in unison, “Hot Belgian waffles!”

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

Their mindscape is apparently books, something Dipper wishes he could be surprised about. As they run through the halls, Dipper realizes that he never really thought about what his own mind would look like; he just thought it was all doors and such, like Stan’s. When they stop at a split in the hall, he looks at the books on the shelves. Thick, glitter covered scrapbooks and journals bound in leather.

“This place is a maze!” Dipper groans, scratching at his head under his hat. How was his own mind so confusing? Well, he supposed it was also Mabel’s mind and he also had no idea where to go, but still. It shouldn’t be so hard to find stuff. “Maybe we can think up a map or something?” he tries to do so but keeps getting caught up on the fact that he knows nothing about what this place is like and therefore what if his map is wrong?

Mabel looks around, peering at the various books on the shelves. Their memories were journals and scrapbooks, apparently. That made sense. Dipper liked to write down everything and Mabel never met a good moment that wasn’t begging to be expressed with glitter and bright paper. Once they got home, she’d have to fill up so many pages with what happened here. Once she was done hugging Stan and Ford and— “Oh, I know!” she hits the heel of her fist against her open palm as the idea strikes her. She closes her eyes and focuses really hard. Slightly ahead of her a white puff of smoke appears and in its wake, something that makes her squeal, all anxiety and fear momentarily forgotten. “Waddles!”

Dipper rolls his eyes as his sister tackles the pig and peppers him with kisses. It’s nice to see his sister so happy, but they have things to do. “Mabel, I know you miss him, but we need to find Stan and Ford. They don’t know what Bill’s after.”

“That’s what he’s here for!” she gives him one last nuzzle before standing up. She puts her hands on her knees and grins at him. “Waddles! We need to find Stan and Ford! You can sniff ‘em out, right? Who’s my little guy, whose my smart little guy with the bestest, cutest little sniffer ever?” she boops his little snoot because he is too cute, “You are! Yes you are! So let’s find our Younkles! Good boy!”

Waddles oinks in a way that is totally a ‘Right away, Mabel, BTW I love you’ before putting his nose to the ground. Mabel jumps up and down and claps as he starts chasing a smell. “Ohhh! Waddles, you are the best, forever and for always!”

Dipper rolls his eyes again before grabbing his sister’s hand to chase after the pig. It was a good idea; he had to admit, so long as it worked. Waddles seemed to be able to find Stan no matter what after the whole pterodactyl incident.

 Ahead of them they can hear Ford yelling, “Stanley, he’s not—” Then he seems to cut himself off, “I’m giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life, and you won’t even listen!” Mabel wrinkles her nose; does Ford have to be so mean now of all times?

They turn the corner to see Ford struggling, suspended in midair and glowing blue, and Stan trapped between a set of shelves and a broken looking Bill. That was definitely not the Bill from their memory. Was that what happened when they both shook his hand? Serves the buttmunch right.

“YOU SHAKE MY HAND AND YOU’LL GO AWAY FOREVER. NO MORE FAILED CONS, NO MORE DOUBTS; NO MORE BEING THE LOAD ON EVERYONE YOU CARE ABOUT. THE KIDS WILL BE FREE AND YOU’LL NEVER HAVE TO THINK ABOUT FORD EVER AGAIN.” Bill has his cane digging into the underside of Stan’s chin; it looks painful. “C’MON, STAN. BE THE ONE THAT SAVES THE DAY INSTEAD OF RUINING IT LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO. SHAKE MY HAND.”

“Younkle/Grunkle Stan!” they shout together and run forward.

Stan’s eyes are red when he looks at them; Mabel thinks about when she was crying to him in the car. Sweetheart, I'm terrified. Bill can see your nightmares; he knows what you're afraid of, what you want more than anything. This Stan has never had to deal with him before.

Bill's eye narrows at them. “WELL, YOU CERTAINLY GOT HERE QUICKER THAN I THOUGHT.” There's a loud thump sound as Ford hits the ground.

Dipper pulls his hand from his sister's to run over to Ford, helping his uncle to his knees. Ford's got this wild, angry look on his face, different from the one he'd had when Dipper had showed up at his door. Less paranoid crazy and more feral. He braces a hand on Dipper’s shoulder as he rights himself, glaring holes at where Bill has his brother pinned.

“Get away from my Younkle!” Mabel tries to run to Stan only to find herself lifted off the ground. There's a moment of confusion as she tries to right herself before she's thrown into her brother and Ford. She hears Ford grunt and feels his arm go around her waist as he takes the brunt of the hit.

“Hey!” Stan shouts and they look up to see him being held in place with a cane to his chest. It's a relief to see him angry instead of scared at least. “Back off, ya one eyed demon! You think I can't smell a bad con? Now get the hell away from my—” he tries to shove forward only to freeze in place; all the color leaves his face when he looks down to see the cane embedded in his chest. “What the—"

Bill's yellow coloring is changing, slowly morphing to red like a poisoned sunset. Something black begins to ooze from the crack that runs down his middle, bubbling and hissing angrily as it drips to the floor. There's a stench like rotten eggs in the air. “I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR STUPID, WORTHLESS FAMILY NOT STICKING TO THE PLAN!” his voice is deeper than normal, seems to make the air itself vibrate as it booms. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW PISSED OFF YOU MAKE ME?!”

There's an explosion of red as Bill rips the cane free, splattering the books behind Stan and soaking his shirt and jacket. Mabel feels her stomach drop; Ford’s grip on her goes painfully tight. Dipper feels like he's going to be sick. No, no, this isn't real. It's the mindscape that meant it wasn't real, right? But Dipper hadn't bled when he'd had a hole blown in him. Why was Stan bleeding?

Stan stumbles back, one hand going to grip the bloody hole in his chest. He keeps his eyes on Bill though and looks like he's muttering something that they can't quite hear.

“WORSE? YOU'VE HAD WORSE? YOU'RE KILLING ME HERE. WELL, METAPHORICALLY.” Bill turns to look at them; his eye is red to match the rest of him and his pupil is more slitted than normal. The black ooze slicks down his front, nearly obscuring his bowtie completely. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, FORD. I WAS GOING TO TRY TO BE NICE BUT NOW I'M JUST GOING TO HAVE TO KILL ALL OF YOU.” he punctuates the statement by slamming the cane into Stan’s face, sending him falling sideways, even as he never takes his eye off Ford.

Ford practically growls, six fingers digging in painfully to Mabel’s side. He shoves her so she's behind him and stands in front of both her and her brother. In a blink he has a gun in his hand; not the sci-fi one he has after the portal, but a real one. “Cipher…” he makes that growly sound again and points the gun at him.

Stan is still gripping the bloody spot on his chest as he stands, breathing heavy and mouth moving silently. Dipper doesn't understand how Stan is really hurting. It's the mindscape; nothing has power unless you think it—oh.

Stan doesn't know it's not real. He doesn't know the rules of the mindscape! Of course he's bleeding and hurting; he doesn't know that he doesn't have to. His mind thinks his body is damaged and in pain so it is. Dipper stares at the blood covering Stan’s hand and focuses really hard.

Stan stares down in amazement as the red fades, the hole in his shirt and chest instantly mended, just like he'd done for Dipper in his own mind. He looks up and when he meets Dipper's eyes, a confused smile twitches across his face. It only lasts a second, however, before it's lost to a flinch. The gun fires with a loud bang, like a crack of thunder that has both kids covering their ears at the sheer volume of it in the confined space.

A hole explodes in the lower corner of Bill's shape. What has to be a gallon of the black goop hits the floor; the stench is worse, almost suffocating. In an instant the wound is healed. “YOU'RE NOT THAT STUPID, FORD. AND THAT'S SAYING SOMETHING, BECAUSE YOU'RE AN IDIOT.” Bill's eye moves in its mouthless smile as he speaks. In a blink he's on the other side of Stan, shoving him forward to stand in the puddle of Bill's...blood? The stuff quivers, moving like liquid metal with a magnet, before climbing up Stan’s shoes. “IT'S A PITY. YOU HAD SUCH POTENTIAL. IT'S EASY TO SEE WHY EVERYONE KEEPS RUINING THEIR LIVES OVER YOU. AND NOW THEY'RE GOING TO DIE FOR YOU.” He grabs Stan’s shoulders. “UNLESS STAN WANTS TO MAKE A DEAL.”

The gun shakes just so in Ford's hand. Mabel tries to scream, but her voice is gone; she can feel Bill's eye slide over her. Her eye burns and waters and for a moment she can feel the ropes that bind her to the chair in the real world, feel the heating metal of the shackle on her wrist to keep her holding her brother's hand. It feels like being on the edge of waking up, like those dreams where you're in your bed but can't move as things move across your ceiling.

Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out get out get out!

“MAN, AND I THOUGHT I WAS CRAZY NOW.”

A cold stone forms in the younger twins stomachs; their hands instinctively reach for each other. It shouldn't be possible. If there was anything good in the world, this shouldn't be allowed to even be a possibility.

But still it is. He's not cracked or bleeding black sludge like the one holding Stan in place, but instead whole as he floats before them. A second Bill Cipher.

“WELL HELLO, HANDSOME.” the broken Bill coos, his color shifting back to the obnoxious yellow to match his counterpart. “JUST THE GUY I WAS WANTING TO SEE. TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH. I PRACTICALLY GIFT WRAPPED HIM FOR YOU.”

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