#I just like the idea of someone being immortal but they've only actually been immortal for a couple of years

[necromancelena]

I like to think that because Cora is immortal she likes to play up the whole "oh im actually so much older than i look but i have eternal youth because i'm so powerful" and then people assume she's hundreds of years old except what she actually means is that she's in like her early thirties and probably looks ambiguously in her late 20s to early 30s but still gets carded at the lcbo sometimes so she assumes everyone thinks she's younger than that.

[rainbowstargazerlilies]

Mechs Ships Tournament: Shipping Round 5 Poll 2

Propaganda:

Arthur/Gwen/Lancelot:

that one post where its like theyre the us government but if it actually did whst it said it did. three different people of equal power keeping each other in check. also they aLMOST SAVED THE STATION WITH THE POWEROF LOVE [Pollrunner's note: post here]

POLYAMORY

I just love them a lot and blood and whiskey is so good and ”maybe just this once there could be a happy ending” makes me cry every time 

blood and whistey

the track where they decide

Polymechs:

They're inseparable they hate each other they would die for each other they actively enjoy killing each other ect ect ect

Look they're immortal and stuck in a spaceship you don't think they've hit all possible combinations over the years and settled into a weird comfortable vibe you can only get if youve murdered, been murdered, and had sex with every one (maybe minus nastya) of your friends?

immortal space pirats.... cuddle piles, romantic... not romanticm... poly mechs <3

(Points to every album) there thats my propaganda. But in all seriousness they are a group of immortals with nothing to do but sing and love each other in their own fucked up ways <3 

Chaotic little guys on a ship for a long time, the relationship web they got going on could rival the coven web

you cant tell me you would live with people for millions of years without it getting even a little gay.

Polygamy

when you spend millennia doing music and violence and shenanigans with the same 8 other people on a ship (and when the ship is technically another person), there's bound to be some group canoodling

i care them

they're everything to each other!!!

i refuse to pick

it’s polymechs!! what isn’t to love

Look at them.

how could you pick individual ships when they are so good together!! with the exception of nastya + jonny cos they are siblings your honour.

a lot of people have polymechs with her and aurora being monogamous but she canonically has queer orgies. on mechs tumblr account she describes herself as "The only one seemingly capable of a committed, responsible and fair relationship" so polymechs with all of relationships besides nastyaurora being on and off and everchanging is both the best polymechs and the most canon compliant polymechs to me

The idea that they're crewmates. You ask one of them what their relationship is with another and they say, "That's my crewmate". And then, maybe one of them meets someone on another ship, and they mention they don't have strong feelings about someone because, "they're only my crewmate" And they just cannot comprehend the idea of being crewmates with someone and not having strong feelings about them. They're immortal and half of them hate life, but even if that wasn't true, they'd die for any of the others a million times over. They've murdered billions of people on a whim, but even if that wasn't true, they'd murder anyone if it made one of their crewmate's lives a bit better. Remember how Tim blew up a moon for Bertie? He had only known Bertie for about 10 years. What would he do for people he had known for about 10 millennia? What would Ashes do for the people who would never betray them? What would Nastya do for the people who would always spend time with her and never die? What would Brian do for the people who would always forgive him for following his beliefs? What would Raphaella do for the people who are always willing to help her with her experiments? What would Ivy do for the people who'd always stay and tell their stories? What would the Toy Soldier do for the people who only ordered it to do what it wants to do and always lets it be involved? What would Jonny do for the people he could never permanently hurt? What would Marius do for his family? They all love each other more than anything, even if they don't have the words for it. (via @mchasmfiend)

Other Poll This Round Here :)

[roonotrue]

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #3

TW: Graphic depictions of injuries and wounds.

Patience - Lamb

Words hurt.

The Lamb knew this. They've seen the way words cut.

The way they stun people, leave them speechless, and then send the world crashing down on them in one swift, and lethal blow.

But they've never felt it themselves until now.

They never wanted things to turn out like this. They never asked for this... They just wanted to live. To be happy. To be free.

But now?

They have the weight of everything they've built on their shoulders. They want to keep their cult safe. Their followers, and friends- dare they say, family.

They want to keep them happy, and well.

So when The One Who- Narinder... When he demanded they...

After everything they've been through, with the scar on their neck proof of their first execution, he demanded that they go through it again? And Lamb so foolishly...

Perhaps they were naive from the start to have trusted him. To have thought that in comparison to the other gods of the land that had ordered the genocide of his kind... He was... Better.

Naive to think that Narinder was different. A good god, locked away by the evil ones, and that they were some kind of shining lamb knight, meant to free him, and restore peace... It was such a childish idea.

Narinder had been no better than the Bishops. Just desperate for power, no matter how much blood was spilled to get it.

They had thought that maybe in the end, if they had spared him, he would...

They feel so stupid.

Standing outside of Narinder's shelter, back against the wall, and hand over their slammed-shut eyes, trying to stop the tears.

The former god of death would never change. He is still just so angry.

~~~

"Be patient, Lamb. He's spent so long festering in his rage, and it is going to take a long time for him to learn how to live a life without it." Ratau pat their shoulder after a long game of knucklebones that they ultimately lost.

They have spent more than half of it complaining about the feline ex-god and the hell he had given them over simply eating.

"I'm trying, but it's me! He hates me! He's never going to understand why I did what I did or that I... That I actually do care about..." Him.

That they care about him.

He had been their savior. Giving them a second chance, and a third, and fourth, and fifth. Every time they died during a crusade, he was there. To greet them, and bring them back.

Sometimes they would talk. Narinder would listen to them, give advice, laugh at their jokes...

They thought he cared... They had certainly cared. They cared so, so much.

The One Who Waits was one of the only beings who truly understood what they were going through. He had been kind to them...

~~~

It was all a facade though. They see that now. Or, hell, perhaps they had just been delusional. Perhaps it was always just a one-sided illusion, them thinking the world of someone who truly hadn't cared at all.

Perhaps they shouldn't have spared him.

Saved them both the agony they're in now...

"I hate you. I will always hate you. No matter how desperately you try to prove yourself to me, I have nothing left in my heart but resentment, and anger when I see you. You, from this moment on, will be nothing but the bane of my fucking immortal existence."

Narinder's words repeat in their head like a mantra.

Hate. He hates them.

~~~

"Empathize with him." Noon remarked, turning the page of his lavender leather-covered book that Lamb had found in Silk Cradle for them.

"What?" Their head jolted to him, staring like the white rabbit had grown a second head.

"Empathize, Lamb. I know he's being difficult, Theyra and Una were talking earlier about how you snapped at him through the door, but he's... Adjusting. Just try thinking about things from his point of view. He's lost everything, and now you have it. I can't imagine that would be easy for anyone, no matter what kind of person they are, good or evil." He looks up at them, and they turn their gaze to the ground, mulling over the words.

"I can do that easily enough... How do I get him to see things my way though? How do I get him to..."

Forgive me...

"Patience. I know it's not your strong suit, but I have faith in you. I'd be a pretty shitty follower if I didn't."

~~~

Empathize. Just. Empathize.

He's angry. So be patient. He's in pain, and from what they can tell from his physical wounds, a lot of it, so emotionally? They can only guess.

Not to mention he still hasn't eaten in a while, so he's probably hangry too.

They take deep, steadying breaths, and let a cool breeze dry their eyes as they do. They still wipe their face as they walk back inside, and see Narinder sunken in on himself in the bed.

He looks so... Small like this. His former white and red robes were abandoned near the bottom of the bed on the floor. Dirty and unpleasant smelling, he had probably thrown them off when he first went to bed.

His wounds aren't bleeding. They can only guess that they had partially healed when he had been spared, and they had indoctrinated them, hence why they weren't obvious when he first arrived.

Then again, they were still too hazy and flooded with adrenaline and mixed emotions to even want to look at Narinder when they were showing him to his shelter.

A part of them wants to leave this whole ordeal for tomorrow after all the feline had dealt with it for this long...

But with how gruesome the injuries look, even with the way he's protectively hunched over trying to hide them, Lamb knows they have to treat them today. No matter how painfully Narinder's words had lashed him.

They're sure the cat has much harsher ones in store for the future, so they need to start growing thick skin now. Those ones had just...

"I have nothing left in my heart but resentment..."

Taken them by surprise.

Narinder is staring down at his wrists, and though his ears flick towards their footsteps, they don't look at them.

"That food was awful." He growls instead, but his voice has lost its venom.

And from the way his head falls back as Lamb sits, and moves to take his arm, it's apparent that the fight is gone from him for now. Now he just looks tired, and bitter.

As if the toxin on his tongue from earlier left a bad taste in even his own mouth.

Or perhaps he was just coming to terms with this whole situation. Whatever the case, they don't feel like speculating what's going on in their head right now. They just want to throw the bandages on and call it a day.

"I figured you didn't care for it. I'll see about finding something else for you once this is taken care of." They reply numbly.

They cradle his arm in their hand, looking over the damage. They'll start with his arms, and then worry about asking to fix up his chest and neck. They doubt he'll let them anywhere near his throat though.

"Something with less flavor. I haven't eaten in a long time, never needed to, and now everything tastes insultingly overwhelming." He adds as they grab a dry rag and lean down to dip it into the water.

"Well, I won't add any seasoning, just cook it, and we'll see if that'll help..." They dab the cloth on the worst of the wounds, his wrist.

They're slow and careful in their movements, rubbing away the dryer blood around the scabbed wound, trying not to agitate it.

But when they see traces of dirt within the scabs and deeper parts of the injury...

"This might hurt a bit, just hold still, okay?" They carefully soak the rag, wring out some of the water in the injury, trying to flush out the dirt first.

Anything that doesn't get out, they cringe as they have to dig deeper with the rag to clear it. They can feel Narinder's arm shaking in their hold, and try to tune out the small hisses as they work.

"What food do you prefer? Or well, what kind did you like before you were chained up?" They try to continue the conversation to distract him.

After a moment of silence, they're not sure that he's going to answer...

"Fish. I don't mind most meat, but fish was always my first choice." He sighs, right as they pull away, finished with his wrist.

They move up his arm, following the pattern left there by the chains. Their arms flinch and jerk every so often as they do. Still, as careful as they are, some of the harder-to-clean, deeper areas start bleeding again.

"I should have guessed, you are a cat, god or not. Many cat followers prefer meat, and love it when I return from a fishing trip with enough fish for a whole feast." That was the wrong thing to say.

"Do not compare me to one of your peasant followers." They feel that correcting him and reminding him that technically he is a follower now would just be petty.

...

"Technically-"

"Don't." As if sensing it from a mile away, the former death god shuts it down, and Lamb can't help but crack a smile.

They continue to wash, now having to go back every so often to wipe away the fresh blood as well.

"I'm almost done with your lower arm, can I move closer for your upper arm?" They're already slowly shuffling forward, but pause to await his approval.

Looking up at him, they notice he's closed his eyes, his head resting back against the wall behind him. They make a mental note to get him a proper headboard.

Maybe something wooden, with a nice carving on it.

His brows are still furrowed, and even though he looks far more relaxed than earlier, there is still anger... Like it's embedded itself in his face deeper than his wounds.

"Narinder?" Their voice is a whisper, and he peeks open his left eye, humming a soft acknowledgment.

"Can I move closer?" They repeat, suddenly frozen by his gaze.

As if he was still towering over them.

"Do what you must, just hurry up already. I'm still hungry." He closes his eyes again, and the lamb quickly shuffles closer and sets back to work.

The rest of the next fifteen or so minutes is spent in silence. Lamb finishes with their left arm and moves to grab one of the jars of salve.

"What is that?" Narinder perks up, ears and eyes darting to the sound of them unscrewing the jar.

"This? Just some medicinal salve, made from camellias and some other herbs that Miki says help stop any infection and speed up the healing process." It's a smooth, transparent green salve with flecks of red.

"Will it hurt?" His ears flatten as he leans forward, sniffing the air.

The lamb breathes in the scent as well, it smells like camellias and mint. Not unpleasant, but something about the mint part gives them the distinct feeling that it will either feel cooling and nice or sting like a bitch.

"I'm not sure... Maybe? I do know that infection will hurt a lot worse so, we're using it." If they were careful before, they're holding fragile glass now as they rub the salve on Narinder's wrist.

They relax to hear the relieved sigh he lets out and feel the way he slumps in their hold.

"Doesn't hurt?" They chuckle as they look up and see him with the smallest of smiles on his face.

It is hardly noticeable if it weren't for the fact that Lamb has spent far too much time staring at that face to miss it.

"No. It's fine..." In grumpy death cat language that translates to 'it's delightful'.

Or at least that's how they choose to hear it. They use it as an encouragement to be a bit firmer, making sure to get the salve in every part of the wounds. It doesn't take half as long to apply as it did to clean, and in no time, they're wrapping the arm with a large roll of bandages.

The next arm goes just as smoothly, and both are wrapped fully by the time Lamb decides to take a break.

"Right, well, I'll go grab you some food so you can eat, and freshwater before we move onto your chest?" They hesitate, looking at Narinder expectantly, waiting for the cat to lash out again.

"Just hurry up..." He mumbles, not even opening his eyes when they stand to leave.

It's so dim in the shelter, they nearly forgot that it is still late noon, bleeding into early evening. They flinch when they step out, the water basin in their arms, and they take a moment to let their eyes adjust before walking toward the kitchen.

It's a sunny spring day, with a cool breeze that helps them finally ease the tension in their shoulders they didn't even realize was there. The flowers growing along the pathway sway in the breeze, and they take a moment to watch them. Simple wildflowers.

Yellow, red, blue, pink, white...

They remember counting them on their way to Narinders shelter hours ago before all this started. They had been so afraid when they heard him coughing and barged in to see the state he was in...

They had frozen.

For the past few years as a leader, they've done nothing but make quick decisions in times of crisis, and plan for the worse. Yet right then, they froze.

They had to stop and do what they do best at this point, and dissociate. Run to get him water, pull away when he started to run short on air, and then-

"Please..." He looks at them, eyes watering to the point of tears, and a plea so desperately leaving his throat...

They had never seen him like that before, and Lamb knew that he had to be completely out of it from the pain.

With a deep sigh, they continue away from the shelter, their hooves clicking against the cobblestone path as they walk.

"Lamb. How is he?" Miki is the first of their flock that they run into, as she's walking out of the Healing Bay, one of the closest buildings to Narinders Shelter- which they wisely placed on the opposite side of the camp, away from the other shelters.

It was near their own home, and when asked by Ratau why they placed their former master that just tried to kill them, so near... They simply said they didn't realize it.

To be honest, they aren't sure why they did it, just that they wanted him near them.

For safety purposes. To keep an eye on him. Yeah. That's why.

A small desert sand-colored fennec fox with pale green eyes stands in front of them now, head tilted in curiosity. They know for a fact that they're short-statured, with most of their flock being at least an inch or so taller than him, but Miki?

She's a few inches smaller, but she packs a punch and is one hell of a medic.

"Oh! He's better than he was, I finished with his arms, I think I wrapped them pretty well, not too tight like you showed me. I'm not sure how to go about wrapping his chest and stuff though..." They continue walking, and Miki joins them.

They pass more buildings, the lumber yard, the stone mine, and the refinery. A few followers milled about, too busy chopping logs and breaking down larger stones to notice their leader passing by.

"I see. I can come and instruct you if you think he's amendable to me being in his shelter. If not, I'm sure I can find a willing volunteer to show you how." She folds her arms behind her, keeping her gaze straight ahead as her eyes glaze over in thought.

"Finding a volunteer and giving me a tutorial will be easier, I think. He's calmed down since earlier, but introducing a stranger might send him over the edge again." They chuckle nervously, thankful that Miki doesn't mention it.

"Of course. I'll ask around, I'll meet you back at the Healing Bay when you're ready." And she's rushing off, leaving Lamb standing there blinking at her quick departure.

They chose to shrug it off for now given how helpful she's been lately. They do duly note that they should maybe start commanding a bit more respect from some of the flock that don't fully seem to comprehend them as their leader.

By the time they make it to the kitchen, they're on autopilot. Dumping the dirty water into the empty sink and filling it up with fresh, clean water from the tap. Quickly they cook a simple fish bowl with no seasoning.

It takes a moment for them to balance the basin between their arm and side, with the food in their other arm before they start walking back to the Healing Bay.

When they get to the Bay they set the bowls aside and try hard to focus on everything that Miki tells them...

Still, nagging thoughts about Narinder continue to plague their mind. They've been thinking a lot about how he feels about everything.

Empathizing. Like Noon suggested.

Being patient. Like Ratau said.

But what about them? There's a whirlwind going on in their head that they don't think even the power of the Red Crown can slow down or stop.

They're angry at him. They know they are. During the fight, a part of them wanted so badly to just end him, and erase him from existence forever. Erase him from their mind. Their heart. Everything. As if he had never even existed in the first place.

But they knew they couldn't. Even if he helped them shove a dagger into his heart, they would tear their fleece to stop the bleeding and save him.

Weakness. A horrible crippling weakness it is. This swirling longing in their chest makes them sick to their stomach, and weak in the knees.

They're angry at themselves. For worrying about him so much. For seeing his wounds and wanting to cry, and go back in time and just fucking kneel, so that he could have kept his godhood and never have to suffer like he is now.

They're angry that they still care so much. They're angry that he cared so little. They're angry that he hates them so much, but they can't seem to hate him in return.

They want to hate him. But all they feel when they look at him is worry, concern, and this terrible lump in their throat that they can't seem to choke down without crying.

They want to hit him and yell at him, and kick him out of camp into Darkwood or Anura so they never have to see him again.

They also want to hug him, apologize, and continue to treat his wounds with all the care and patience they can muster, and spend every day talking to him like they used to do every time they died.

But they can never have what they want.

"Do you think you can do it by yourself?" Miki asks, looking back at them, blissfully unaware of her leader's internal struggle.

"Yeah. I think I can handle it. Thanks, Miki for showing me- and Jovi, for being such a great patient!" They plaster on a smile, bandstand from the chair they'd been sitting in while watching the Fennec fox work.

The grey stag just smiles and gives a thumbs up as they start to unravel himself from the temporary bandages Miki had tangled him in.

They take a moment longer of standing there, looking around the clean, well-organized entrance area of the Healing Bay, multiple beds in the background with curtain dividers, and cabinets of medicine, mostly camellia-based.

Though Miki likes to use other herbs, claiming they're just as medicinally valuable. Lamb doesn't argue, because, so long as they don't make anyone worse, what's the harm in letting her have control over this aspect of the camp?

They wave goodbye to the two, grabbing the still-warm food and water and retracing their steps back to Narinder's shelter.

There aren't a lot of people who could understand the position they're in or the things they feel right now, not even Ratau. But keeping it all inside...

Patience.

Just be patient. Maybe Narinder will be more amendable to talk about everything that's happened when they finally get him some food?

With a deep sigh, they find themselves pushing back the curtains to the ex-god's home with a slightly less foggy head. Hopefully, Narinder is still tired enough to accept their help less aggressively than usual.

"Didn't I say to hurry up? What did you get sidetracked cleaning up your follower's shit while I'm in here crippled and starving?" ...

 Well, at least he's feeling better enough to be at his usual level of anger again...

"For your information, I was talking with Miki about how to wrap your chest best, because in case you haven't noticed I've never had to do this before. The Red Crown always takes care of my injuries, and Miki fixes up anyone in the flock who gets hurt." They explain, and Narinder just raises a brow as they move to set the water down and place the food in his lap.

"Am I supposed to know who the hell 'Miki' is?" He sighs and they return to their earlier spot next to him with a small laugh.

"No, I guess not. Then again, you probably won't know who anyone in the flock is, given that you haven't met them. Maybe when you're better I'll dedicate a proper sermon to introducing you!" They don't mean that, knowing full well that they'd have better luck dragging him into a river, but they can't resist the urge to tease.

And the cringe that distorts his face is very much worth it.

"I'd sooner drown myself in a lake." Damn. They were nearly spot on.

It makes them burst into laughter, leaning back as they realize just how horribly well they predicted the cat's response.

"Then I guess I'll leave introductions up to you. So, do your arms feel better enough to eat? Or do you need help with that too?" They notice him trying to lift his arms as they speak, but they are shaking still, and his face contorts in pain with every jerky, forceful movement he tries to get out of them.

In the end, he gives a defeated sigh, turning his frustrated glare to them.

"I'll take that as a yes. I just grilled the fish, with no seasoning or anything, so it should be pretty bland. Here." They lift a piece to him, far enough for him to lean forward and take it on his terms.

He does so rather aggressively, snapping forwards and snatching it out of their hand, making them jump back a bit in surprise as they growl while eating.

"Ooookay..." They chuckle, trying to ease the sudden spike of adrenaline now setting his nerves alight.

They let him eat and are relieved to see he doesn't choke this time, though he still sticks his tongue out in mock disgust.

"It's still powerful, but better than before." He comments before taking the next bit they offer.

They repeat the motion until the bowl is empty, and they set it aside, wiping their hands with one of the rags they haven't used. Thankful now that they had brought extra. Probably too many, but better safe than sorry.

"So, I'm thinking I'll have you sit on the side of the bed so I can get your back and chest, sound good? And how are your legs? Were they chained too?" They ask, moving some of the supplies off the bed, and onto the side table, which was starting to get cluttered.

They'll clean it later.

"Just my ankles." He shifts on the bed, already looking to be in a much better mood.

So they start there, with the smallest, most hesitant nod of approval from Narinder they move to the bottom of the bed. Lifting the blanket just past his ankles, they see that yes, much like his wrist there are similar embedded chain link-shaped wounds.

It takes less time to clean, rub salve, and wrap them than it did with his arms now that they've gotten the hang of it. Narinder seems to have gotten used to it too, hissing half as much with each dab of the cloth over the blunt lacerations.

"Can you-"

"No. Just help me." He snaps, clearly having his fair share of Lamb's questions for today.

So they just continue on in silence, wrapping their arm around his already-wrapped shoulders, and pulling him forward, using their other arm to move his legs over the side of the bed, toward the window.

They make mental note of how his fur sticks up wildly from where he is lying, and his stomach drops to see the sheets below him damp with splatters of blood, and the wall he had been leaning against for the last few hours looking no better. Some of the blood is already dried on the wall, but fresher drips are bleeding down.

It wasn't a lot, not enough to be worried about blood loss, but enough to let them know that the wounds have been bleeding for a while now- and looking at his back, the cans see why.

The chain marks along his shoulder blades were not just embedded but torn and layered as if from...

Struggling...

"Are you just going to stare? Or actually do something?" From his tone of voice, they know that he knows exactly what they are seeing.

Years of suffering. Struggling. Fighting against his binds.

There is water in their eyes as they follow the tangle of matted, bloody fur, much of it torn and un-growing around the worst of it... Around his waist, there is a violent mess of lacerations from the layers of chains that had been wrapped around there. Many of the deeper ones are still bleeding, some freshly opened and bloody again just from having moved him.

"Um, yeah, yeah, just give me a moment to... Assess..." Their voice shakes, and they have to turn away from the horrific sight to collect their thoughts.

They are no stranger to gore. To the gruesome tearing of flesh by a blade, or the brutal decapitation brought by a razor-sharp axe...

But chains are not sharp. They are blunt but strong. Unyielding. How tight must they have been to dig into flesh as easily as a dagger stabs into fruit? How hard does one have to pull against them for them to slice through skin and muscle like a knife through butter?

Looking back at the injuries now, it still renders them speechless.

How many bones did he break in his thrashing and pulling against them? How many days did he spend exhausted from the fight, his body healing itself over and over again each time? He's not a god anymore though, and simply laying here waiting for these injures to stitch themselves back together isn't going to work anymore.

"These... A lot of these are going to need stitches, Narinder, and I can't do that on my own... I can clean them, but I'm going to need to bring Miki in here to do the rest..." They try to be gentle about it, as they shake themselves out of their stunned silence.

"Stitches are going to hurt, aren't they?" He growls, but there is no real resistance in it, just a frustrated acceptance of the idea.

"Like a bitch, yeah. But it's probably the only way half of these will heal properly..." They force themselves back into motion, grabbing a fresh rag and repeating the actions that they've memorized at this point.

Clean the wounds, rub the salve, and wrap them. It's a little harder when they have to move around the bed and face Narinder directly though.

They're close. Way too close. 

They can feel him staring at their every move as they kneel in front of him, wiping along his stomach, which is just as bad as his back. They're more sparse on his chest, but just as deep, crisscrossing along his fur.

Looking up at him now, they can't help but have flashbacks to standing feet below him, gazing up at his sharp-toothed grin as it shines maliciously even through the darkness of his veil.

Hearing his thunderous chuckle as they tell him of their crusades, feel his breath as he leans down to speak to them at eye level...

Meeting his gaze now, there is no fondness, looking down at them like a favored pet...

Just... Well, contemplation. As if he's debating something to say. They wait, pausing their movements, and he grabs their hand. They flinch at the sudden contact and take a sharp intake of breath.

He's still shaking, they note, and his grip is weak. They could easily pull away if they wanted to.

Do they want to?

"I... It's different. Not being as tall. You don't fit in my hand anymore." He speaks softly, his brows furrowed.

Even as he says it, confusion clouds his eyes, as if wondering what the hell he was even thinking, saying such a thought out loud. They don't know how to respond to that.

But they understand what he means. They liked when the first response to them dying and arriving before Narinder, was for him to lower his and for them to hop into it. To raise them to his eye level.

They always liked being at eye level with the giant god, and Narinder at the time seemed to prefer it too. They remember once having been drawn so close to him that they made the bold move of ducking underneath his veil and seeing those blood-red eyes directly.

Any sane mortal would be terrified of the black-slitted pupils looking down at them like a predator debating how to massacre its prey. But them? They were enchanted by the genuine surprise in them. The way he chuckled and purred at their actions, a rumble of rolling thunder in the white void of the in-between sounded like music to their ears.

"Yeah... I didn't mind it, being at eye level with you made me feel... Equal. Instead of just some-" Pawn.

They choke on the sentence as they realize where it is going. This feels like an opening to talk more about the elephant that's made itself comfortable in the room for the last several hours.

Narinder's ears flatten as they seem to put together the missing word in his own mind, turning their head away in anger maybe, shame? They don't know.

They bit their lip, mulling over their next words carefully.

So, about the whole usurping thing? - Haha, oops, didn't want it to go like that, but also, it was kind of your fault? - Nope.

I know things are tense right now, but I still have deeply conflicting emotions toward you that might be mildly romantic, which isn't relevant, but hey! While we're on the topic, did you care about me at all? - Absolutely not.

How do they just... Start a fucking conversation like this?

"Narinder, I... We should talk but I don't know... I don't know where to start." They sound so ridiculous they have to laugh.

To ease their nerves, to try and bid time, and because something about this whole situation is downright hilarious. Why are they so nervous around him? Like he still has the power to crush them with his thumb alone...

They beat him. They won that fight and claimed the Red Crown for themselves. Yet here they are, still kneeling before him, their eyes begging for him to respond. To offer them some sort of clarity...

"What is there to talk about, Lamb? How you turned heretic and betrayed me? Or how about how in the end you couldn't at least finish the job? Yes, let's talk about that. That's what I'm most curious about. Why did you spare me, Lamb? Why keep me alive? Just to suffer this pathetic mortal body, and the humiliation of needing to rely on you of all people!" He bursts, turning back to them, teeth bared and a fresh growl leaving his throat.

They flinch and lean back to offer Narinder immediate space to cool down.

"No! No, I didn't- I didn't even know that this would happen to you when you became mortal! I just- I didn't want you to die! I didn't want to kill you!" They try to find the words.

Stumbling haplessly through their thoughts trying to find something they can tell him that will make him see that they're sincere.

"Why not!? You've had no problem striking down all others who stood against you!" He leans forward, chasing after them as they lean away, trying to escape the very conversation they sparked.

They know the answer to that, they know it and they would rather lie and declare that the only reason they spared him was to mock him. Hold their victory over his head for centuries, force him to be a mere follower, and worship the ground they walked on.

But how? Looking into his furious, and confused glare, red eyes burning into them like hot coals, what option is there but the truth? They have no doubt that he'll be able to see past all else.

"Because I..." They can't turn away from him. They want to, to look away, but it's like he's got them pinned, and it's then that they realize that he's...

He's still holding their hand. Close to his chest, the rag having dropped to the floor, and despite the anger still radiating off of him, he is gentle. His grip is soft, cradling their fingers, and the logical part of their brain reminds them that it's just because he's weak, and in pain.

But their heart is screaming so loud in their chest that they think they're going to go deaf. And their stomach has started swirling so violently that they think they're going to be sick.

"Because I care..." And the words fall from their lips in a whispered plea, begging him to just... Know what they mean.

About you. I care about you, so fucking much and I don't want to. I want to hate you, I want to hate you for who you are and what you did, why can't I hate you? You tried to kill me, all for power. You were as hateful, and power-hungry as your siblings, and you tricked me, and I fell for it, like a love-struck idiot I fell for it because I thought you cared too, and you didn't.

You didn't care at all.

"And I wanted you to care so much, but you didn't." They stand, there are tears in their eyes and they realize, that as much as they were pushing to have this conversation with him...

Maybe they are the one that isn't ready for it.

But Narinder still has their hand, and looking at him, he looks like he's been slapped across the face. His grip on their hand tightens for the slightest moment, and it feels like he's squeezing their heart, and it hurts.

It hurts so damn bad.

And then he let's go.

"I-... How, Lamb?... How am I supposed to respond to that? How do you want me to respond to emotions I didn't know were there?" He's asking.

Looking up at them in a pure mix of confusion and what was formerly anger, now overridden by doubt... He looks so different. Nothing like the God of Death that they have come to know...

Lamb prides themselves on being able to read others, and Narinder is an open book if they've ever seen one. They could look in his mind. Read his thoughts.

But no. They know what they'll see. They know that it will just drive the knife even deeper.

"I don't know, Narinder. I don't know." 

~~~

Sooo, I posted late on Ao3, so I'm posting early here to make up for it. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this angsty chapter, and I have a little question...

How slow-burn should I make this? I'm not great at super long slow-burns, and honestly, I didn't really plan to make this one. Still, there are a lot of complicated emotions between Narinder and Lamb, so... It might take a while for them to be on better terms, but I'm just worried about going too fast and making it less realistic or too cliche. I'm also super impatient though, and I want romance, fluff, and happy bullcrap because it's been a tough week, and writing all this angst is gonna push me over the edge homies. Listening to ppcocaine can only do so much to prevent me from crying, my guys.

What do any of you think? Should I speed it up more in this next chapter or continue with my current game plan of at least two, three, or maybe four more chapters before forgiveness and touchy-feely stuff?

[fixfoxnox]

GOG I got a brainrot about the anima AU, like

What if there was an anima hunter? Like someone who SPECIFICALLY takes animas for weird reasons

And then Roach is somehow captured by said anima hunter, and this hunter does like…bad things to Roach and Ghost feels the pain Roach goes through constantly bc they’re bonded, and Soap is helpless to Simon’s pain and both are in pain together bc they can’t find Roach

ANGST FOR DAYZ

(not a req, just brain food btw)

Anima AU has so many opportunities for good angst, I've barely even tapped the surface of what's possible and I didn't even get to fully dive in to everything surrounding Anima rejection in the last oneshot

I have a great many ideas regarding Soap in the AU, like him being taken temporarily on a mission and Roach feels helpless because, unlike with Ghost, he can't feel what Soap feels and he doesn't have any idea where he is. So even though Soap isn't Roach's bonded, Roach feels like he's failing/failed as an Anima because his job his to protect his people and whether they're bonded or not, Soap is one of his people.

But also with the latest oneshot something I didn't dive into there but tried to hint at is the fact that the year apart and Ghost saying what he said is the reason why Roach stays invisible so much. Its because even once they've made up that thought that he's taking Ghost away from a normal life still linger in the back of his mind, so he hides himself so that there will at least be an illusion of normalcy.

The anima hunter idea is interesting. I could see maybe like an organization who try to kidnap and break Anima to turn them into weapons because they are essentially an immortal and super-powered soldier. The only problem with it is that when Anima turn themselves invisible they essentially become like Ghosts, so it would be super hard to actually hold them.

That being said it is very possible that in modern day there would have been developments made to hold Anima. Like something that manages to latch on to them or somehow keep them in one place. Was thinking about like sound as a weakness for the Anima because even when invisible they can still hear/see things and they would likely have better hearing. So like major sound pulses could potentially fuck with them enough to nullify their powers.

So just imagining the team doing their thing and they go into a room and are just deafened because its an Anima trap. The guys come in and put like headphones on Roach that are designed to just launch these insane noises and vibrations at him and everyone is just helpless to watch as Roach is carried away.

And its tough for Ghost because he can feel Roach, but not in the same was Roach can feel him. So he can feel the discomfort and the panic from Roach but he had no idea where his Anima is or what's actually happening to him. And naturally he's panicked because Anima and their bonded aren't meant to be apart for long periods of time, especially not forcefully apart.

So he's panicking and Soap is panicking because Roach is gone and Ghost is panicking and it falls to Gaz and Price to keep the two from spiraling while trying to find Roach.

And, when they find Roach, Ghost ends up taking like weeks off because with how long Roach has been under the noises and vibrations not only is his hearing temporarily damaged until his body manages to heal itself, but he's also jumpy and going to be impacted by any slight vibration/sound. Soap tries to keep working but only lasts like two days before Price sends him on leave anyways because he's pretty much spending all of his time on the phone checking on Roach anyways

I've mentioned it in the discord, but if we really want to get into some Anima AU angst then I need to start writing an AleRudy half of the anima AU because 😈 I have many ideas

[gildinbainas]

What is their love language? How do they show affection? ( this is for atem, thranduil, alucard and louis thnx)

Character Development Q&A

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

Atem

He is not a man of words AT ALL, although in time, ( and I mean a LOT of time ) he may feel comfortable enough to express himself in a manner you deem as 'romantic' in words. I'll be the first to say that only two ships get that from him so far ( not counting his mage on discord ) but they've been together for YEARS across time / verses. @nvrcmplt Her batch, mainly Beschu and then of course his beloved priest @shacchou He will actually verbalize his feelings in the most disgusting of manners with them. Otherwise, Atem is more of a 'show you' person. And it's definitely not the showy displays Kaiba is capable of. I mean, let's be real. His income is not what it used to be. So it's more or less thoughtful gestures that happen frequently / gradually as the relationship progresses. Often times, it doesn't mean he's romantically interested. He'll do stuff for ANY of his friends --- new and old. But if it was heading towards a more romantic relationship, he might make you lunch or dinner more often. Or... do your laundry. Or something. He's the King of Games. Not the king of wooing people so this is the best you get. ( Although I'm sure buying someone flowers isn't a stretch considering he loves getting them himself as well as little trinkets / accessories )--- On the affection side of things, he is 1000% touch averse and flat out can't stand being touched without permission. Until he is comfortable with you, the most you'll get it a shoulder lean or hand holding. As he gets more comfortable, hugs are big. He enjoys any kind of platonic spooning, or head in your lap... feet rubs or rubbing of feet. Little back rubs. That kind of thing.

Thranduil

I honestly have NO IDEA since no one has come close to shipping with him romantically ( well, at least not in an unrequited sense ). I'm sure he may have doted on his late wife but that was centuries ago. The man has no romantic inclinations whatsoever by default. Elves are creatures that are often looked upon with desire. The way creatures desire him is nothing more than a means to using that against them for political gain. His mind is usually on what he can do to better ensure the protection of his people. That said, IF you somehow managed to keep his attention that goes beyond how he can use you, he's an elf of culture. So if you like reading, art, nature, swords, philosophy, ect and can carry on conversations of the sort, he's likely to share his reading collection with you. And that's a BIG deal. Elves, or at least his kind, are wary to show affection unless they are truly interested. If he ever kisses your forehead, brushes your hair, runs his fingers along your palms or arms, that's his way of showing affection. And that can be interpreted as platonic as well although the forehead kiss means something deeper to him.

Alucard

LMAO depends on his mood. By default, he's wary of romantic inclinations and thinks his father and mother were simply lucky to have found one another. Considering he's immortal, he doubts there's another vampire out there he could tolerate for an eternity. They all disgust him really. And humans? Well, he tends to avoid them for an array of reasons. But he can be pretty doting if he loves you. CONSTANT affection because he's so starved of it. He has no idea what it feels like to drown in love and be loved so if he ever gets it, he'll probably crave intimacy. Not sex. Just closeness. And I mean he's pretty open about his feelings for someone if it's official so he'll cook, clean, shower you with gifts... or the occasional head on a pike.

Louis

Oh Louis.... LMAOOOO Louis, Louis, Louis... My sweet, beautiful, melancholy child. .... Yeah, I got nothing. Listen. He's so pretty, but he's also angry and full of despair. It's embedded into him. He is capable of falling in love but he is wary af of vampires right now so he probably wouldn't go out of his way to show affection of any kind. He's more likely to repress it and leave you guessing while he's talking himself out of letting himself be wooed again. Louis' love language is glaring at you from across the dinner table, silently judging you. His affections are... well, I suppose if he loves you enough, he'll look the other way while you rampage and murder in the night.

[badgerwithagun]

Hazbin Hotel theory, AKA, how time effects immortals.

I have actually found a way to fit 3 theories I made together. I am very surprised, but here we go. As you can see they are all connected to how time effects immortal being in the Hellaverse.

To start off, my theory for how old Zestial could be. A lot of people have suggested he could be from the Tudor period, due to his shakespearian mannerisms, but I have an alternative. He reminds me a lot of a character from Percy Jackson, someone named Zoe Nightshade. She is a hunter of Artemis, a clan of immortal maidens who hunt alongside the goddess. She is thousands of years old, and there are some comedic moments from her speaking in a shakespearian manner, then getting annoyed when corrected because she finds the English language irritatingly prone to change. It's entirely possible Zestial faced a similar problem but decided to just not bother changing. If so, this could mean he outdates the English language as we know it. If you don't know what I mean, just take a look at the original draft of Beowulf. Then you'll understand what REAL Old English looks like.

However, this does raise a question. If Zestial, a mortal soul who at most can't be younger than William's conquest of England, is having trouble adapting to the modern language, how come beings that date back to the start of creation, like Lucifer, Adam, Sera, and the other Deadly Sins, fully embrace modern slang. It needs to be remembered that these entities are not human. They do not age, they do not wither, their bodies are fueled by primordial magic. Even Adam only barely counts as human, with him, Lilith and Eve being the progenitors of our race. Nothing completely mortal can kickstart a globe spanning species with just two participants. It seems that with natural, ingrained magic power comes a great ability to adapt and change. This could also explain how, well, nice some of the sins are. It's entirely possible that spending millennia marinating in failure and spite can get tiring, leading to a desire to seek self care. That's part of why Stolas had been my favourite character before I found out he was 35, I loved the idea of an ancient force of evil just becoming burnt out and depressed. (Don't get me wrong I still think he's great but it's a bit of a let down. Episode one of season 2 was great for angst fans, not so much for lore fans.) This would explain a lot, and would allow me to ignore all the 'the king of lust believes in consent' memes I keep seeing. Bee for example was probably quite a bitch (hahaha) until recently, I can imagine her just randomly eating people when they annoy her. I don't even want to say what Ozzie once was. I would have said that Lucifer might have once taken a more hands on approach to running hell, but my third theory disputes that to explain why he's the way he is (sorry to string you along.) To be fair, they might not all have changed for the better. Mammon, for example. I headcanon he was once more like a Great Beast guarding his vast wealth, like the dragons of old, as his many servants brought him more treasures. Then he discovered capitalism, possibly when global trade and slavery became a big deal. Thanks Britain. I know I'd prefer to deal with Smaug than Jeff Bezos.

I also suspect that they changed mannerisms as well as behaviours. After all, it doesn't really make sense that many characters have american accents when they were around before the first humans even made it across the land bridge to Alaska. They've likely changed with the times. Not only that, their rings have likely changed. I imagine that the ring of wrath once was very similar to Sparta, and maybe after that the viking idea of Norway. As Greed is currently overrun with mafia stereotypes, it was probably once a haven for blackbeard era pirates. I also for some reason imagine Bee as having been french. No hate intended (except for when I need to make jokes about the centuries old blood feud that existed between britain and france, in which case Confound You, you snail eating poltroons!) Now here's the part you wouldn't have been expecting. With all this in mind, what was Lucifer like way back when. Well here's the thing, I think he was Irish.

I have been rereading some old british folklore, and honestly, despite the devil being a prince of darkness, the great dragon, the tempting servant, he's a bit of a failboy. Like, there's this one legend where he was digging a trench to flood some churches, only for some random lady to light a candle and cause a cockrel to crow, tricking him into thinking the sun was rising and running away. There's also the legend of Jack O the Lantern, where he came to drag Jack to hell, but jack went 'oh, lets play a trick on those priests, you turn into a multiplying coin, and I'll give it to them, and then you'll leave and they'll think they robbed each other' the devil immediately cancelled his plans to play, turned into a coin, and was unceremoniously shoved into a bag until he promised never to send Jack to hell. Even when the puritans came along and ruined everyone's fun, it was implied that instead of utilising his many minions to spread evil, the devil would just go around randomly convincing farmers daughters to do interesting things instead of being good little repressed women. I could totally see this guy personally going down to Georgia and challenging some kid to a fiddling contest for his soul, or spending years depressed making ducks because his wife left. Dear god.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

found an old folder of OC art for a comic series I never made

this bitch be THICC

thank you 16 year old Lula for putting the date on all the art in here so now I know that I filled this entire thing in less than two years

the concept was about the personal lives and interactions of the Minions and Side Kicks of a small group of heroes and villains (who you never actually see)

the focus was on their interpersonal relationships, with very little attention on the actual battles

there was also a whole worldbuilding aspect with this military drug that gave the superheroes their powers, but the creator of the drug went rogue and started selling it on the black market, which is what causes the supervillains to rise

diluted versions of the drug with more minimal effects start hitting the streets and drawing the attention of teenagers who take it in the hopes of getting cool superpowers, at best they're harmless mutations of some sort (one minor character gained the ability to unhinge his jaw like a snake), and at worst it's something debilitating that affects their daily lives

none of the main cast have any abilities, the Side Kicks are part of a controversial government training program and won't be allowed to take the serum until they've graduated from the Side Kick program and become fully fledged Heroes in their own right

the Minions have been promised the non-diluted drug in return for their service, but of course they never actually deliver on that promise (except one who was actually the daughter of the villain and ended up inheriting her father's abilities via genetics, it was supposed to be a big plot twist because no one ever knew they could be passed down, since her father was one of the successful early trial runners before she was born, she was the first child conceived by someone who had taken the drug)

there's a mystical, immortal, omnipotent being that gives information to whoever can track him down in exchange for puzzles and toys, he was a schizophrenic homeless boy who was kidnapped and experimented on, he was the very first successful (and unwilling) recipient of the drug trials, but he escaped and was never recaptured thanks to his teleportation powers, he is incredibly powerful and also completely unstable, his omnipotent abilities combined with his schizophrenia make him unable to tell which voices in his head are telling the truth and which are lying

the two main characters were childhood best friends who are surprised to find themselves facing each other in battle, they meet up in secret and maintain a friendship while pretending to fight each other on the job

so much of this folder is just artwork of the 8 main characters hanging out together, playing with costume designs, experimenting with art styles

but in this whole thing there are only a small handful of actual comics, all of them being isolated encounters between characters with no real plot

I had a lot of ideas for character concepts and worldbuilding, but very little idea on how to pull it together into a cohesive story, I would keep getting sidetracked with new minor characters with their own side plots, or background worldbuilding info

so I spent over a year building and building and building this idea and then eventually it just fizzled out and I never touched it again, kind of a shame tbh, some of these ideas still kinda slap (definitely a few things in here that did not age well though yeesh, 16 year old Lula had some real shady views and opinions she had yet to grow out of)

this was a fun romp down memory lane though, maybe I should do a redraw or two, could be fun ~

[faerywhimsy]

📖‼️🎨 !!!

📖 : favourite VC book and why

Can anyone's favourite book be anything other than Queen of the Damned?

I was actually gonna end this part of the ask right there, but... There is just... so much in it. Of course so many of our favourite piece is the 28 odd pages of TDM. But yet even that ties together so beautifully with the rest of the novel through the tales of the twins. The book itself sets up a legacy. It's a formative piece of my actual childhood.

And, just a little less subjectively, it's paced about as well as possible for of dear Anne's books. It's placed early enough in the series that the random array of characters who get brought into the mix actually kinda feel right, cause they have so many books to end up fleshed out in.

‼️ : obscure but beloved head canon that doesn’t fit any of the above

My obscure head canon this time is different to my last one and I was so totally hoping that someone would ask this again!

Lestat is only 50 years in the blood when he first comes across Armand in TVL. Yes, Lestat's instinct immediately screams at him, 'Get away. Leave the place to him if he wants it.'

But what if it didn't? What if Lestat's first response to seeing Armand in the flash had not been to leave? What if... stay with me here... what if Lestat had felt more drawn to him than repelled from him?

They've already got catacombs. That's basically the equivalent of a filthy basement hole in the 18th century, right? What if... Armand found Lestat *coughs* rather interesting... after, say, three odd days and nights keeping Lestat prisoner (because Gabrielle's not gonna now, Lestat's mind is silent to her), Armand leaves the door open to Lestat, and bids him run. Armand's drawn to him, half in love with him already, and fascinated with seeing what Lestat will do.

Ahem.

🎨 : share a WIP snippet of fanart/fic

This snippet is taken from next week's coming update of How They Get to Trinity Gate:

Armand recoiled from Lestat as though struck. “I hold Louis under no such spellcraft.” The idea that Lestat could cheapen what that he had painstakingly built with Louis, year after year, decade after decade—! “Please,” Lestat said, emotion making his accent thick. Yet he did not argue the point further. Armand was ready to drag up his version of their past, to retort Lestat had reason to know better than most exactly what it looked like when Armand held one completely in his thrall. Louis appeared in no such way. Nevermind that Louis would never have allowed Armand to do what he had done for he and Lestat had Armand not made amends for the past ways in which he had utilised the mind gift on him. He was incensed at the very insinuation of any longer being capable of doing such to one he loved. Armand was no longer the immortal he had been fifty years ago, a century, or a full two centuries before.

[zeravmeta]

🖊

Aye, let me regale you all of my FFXIV OC who technically doesn't exist because I don't play FFXIV and have only had the lore explained to me by mutuals

So imagine a guy, right? John 'Warrior of Light' Fantasy from FFXIV is whoever you need them to be, and she's also full of a bunch of different versions of themself like Fray and the John Fantasies of Fantasies past and also haunted by Zenos' own shadow self (maybe).

WOL is just Built Different as per the events of the game, surviving things they shouldn't, getting body snatched, soul split apart, the whole nine yards of anime things that happen to people to hurt them. However, they don't ever actually die, because they are the aforementioned super badass hero who ends the cycle of shit once and for all, as Hydaelyn says herself "Now all of you will Walk to your Ends after the Warrior of Light Brings the Shadows."

Having been explained that, I took all the bits of the lore and went "What if my WOL was a zombie?" and thus, we have Z.M., otherwise known as Zombie Mailman (Note: I suck at naming my OC's so I always just have tagline code names for them, but Zombie Mailman is actually called Z.M. because it's funny that he has an actual tagline name of his initials without knowing how on the nose it is)

The basic idea for this guy is that FFXIV is full of guys who don't die: Emmet-Selch, Zenos, the Primals, Niddhog, etc, all these dudes who persist out of spite and willpower for all their various reasons. However, despite all the noble/terrible goals they each try to sell you on, they all share a pretty important distinction: They're super unhappy. All of them are immortals but they also fucking HATE being alive for one reason or another, so I took this concept and went:

"What if the Warrior of Light was sent from Hell to deliver these immortals their last rites? After an eternity of suffering, they've clearly forgotten how to die, so the emissary of hell isn't here to drag them back but to help them pass along." And thus, my WOL OC is a literal zombie mailman who runs around working as a mail delivery man and moonlighting as a world saving hero because Someone needs to help these poor saps fucking die already.

Furthermore, all WOL's in canon just kind of appear one day, so the way my John Fantasy gets Fantasy'd is that he literally just crawls out of the ground naked in true zombie fashion, gets found by the Delivery Moogles and the Lalafel Post Office and is offered a job, and now everyone stares awkwardly as the cute little woodland creature guys have this 8ft intimidating dragon-pangolin guy whose clearly dead helping them in the office and backhanding any and all rude customers through a wall.

He has blue skin and wears the standard mailman fit (colored white because I like it but also the white medical towel doctors put on corpses), uses her pronouns interchangeably (corpse who has no identity except what they make), and they're actually very sweet but always kind of nippy and frustrated because all these guys who keep postulating about the nature of humanity are just trying to dodge the fact that, no they really have just forgotten how to die, like IDIOTS. Also a fun little wrinkle to his design (in my head) is that even though he's this ancient corpse, ZM is actually very youthful in appearance because it's a nice juxtaposition to all these older characters who are literally melting but still alive vs a young person who is very much dead.

Anyways heres a few fun little snippits of ZM from my discord in DM talks

Might I share more about ZM? Maybe some day....

[tehuti88-art]

8/18/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Sigrid Richter. She started as a minor character who appears only briefly in a comic relief role, but considering how the plot goes, she may end up taking on a bigger role. There'll be more about her later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding her design, she's a blue dachshund. I'm iffy on her hair design.

TUMBLR EDIT: Sigrid hasn't revealed her background to me yet, largely because I haven't paused to think it over, being busy dealing with other, more important characters. I'll reveal the bigger role she may end up taking, though.

She first appeared in a scenario where undercover American spy Sgt. Stephen Gerhardt and resistance leader Josef Diamant show up at her house, discussing plans, assuming she's out. She abruptly appears and sees them. I believe she's met with Gerhardt already, but you don't really "meet" with Diamant unless he's in disguise, or you're with the Allies. Neither of which applies to Sigrid. Diamant's identity is revealed. "A miscreant?" Sigrid exclaims, as if aghast; then, clasping her hands together: "How DELIGHTFUL!" Turns out she doesn't mind if the Diamond Network makes use of her house; the scandal it could cause, even if only in theory, is so delicious she just can't resist. This was where Sigrid's character was intended to be left, just a minor goofy role of little consequence...yet it seems in this story that even the bit characters can end up playing elaborate roles with a lot of bearing on the plot. (Hello, Unnamed Busboy.)

Sigrid's tentative plot point involves Ultima Thule, the final story arc which occurs a year or so after the war's end, when it's revealed that a handful of surviving Nazis and sympathizers had fled to the Alps and set up base in a hidden fortress from which they've been carrying on Project Doomsday's successor, Project Ultima Thule. Previously they'd been interested in creating a supersoldier. Now they're interested in immortality itself. On the rodent side of the story, the party spearheading this effort is Ludolf Jäger, along with his wife Magda and unwilling assistance from Indigo and Silver Rat. On the canine side of the story, while Gunter Hesse, Konrad Helmstadt, Lars Franke, and the Unnamed Panzer Commander are intended to play major roles...I have no idea who TF is behind it all. Dr.s Mengele and Arzt are involved in perfecting the serum that Dr. Kammler (from the rodent side) created, but by the time of this story, Arzt is dead and Mengele has escaped elsewhere (he's not a major character, in fact, I still waffle over whether his name will actually be given in the story or not). So neither of them can be the story's mastermind. And unless a new character pops up out of nowhere--which is unlikely by this point BUT still possible, look at everyone else who's popped up for this reboot--I currently have no one to really fill this role. :/

Sigrid Richter popped back into my mind when I pondered this situation harder. She's a freaking unlikely mastermind...but maybe that's an asset? Similar to Corporal Julian, could she play a completely unexpected bad guy? Considering the traditional roles women played in Nazi Germany--NOT as leaders or masterminds--it would be intriguing. She's obviously not the brains behind the whole thing, but she might be the only one left behind able to carry on the role. Also considering how harmless, and possibly demented, she seems in the earlier story when she meets Diamant, nobody would expect someone like her to be left in charge of the project.

There IS another party who may step in here. I keep imagining minor interactions Lt.s Hesse and Paul Wozniak have with the woman in charge of a Lebensborn maternity home (the place where Wozniak meets the unmarried mother--she still needs a name--whom he marries and adopts the child of as a cover for his homosexuality). She's a strict, austere sort who's always trying to wheedle Hesse into spreading his good German genes--similar to Himmel in the rodent side of the story, Hesse is unmarried, somewhat older and more experienced than most of his fellows, and is considered prime Aryan family material, but shows no inclination to settle down. (Hesse actually has a mistress, though they both believe she's unable to have children until late in the story.) This unnamed Lebensborn woman pesters Hesse whenever she sees him, trying to convince him to at least help get some nice young ladies pregnant if he doesn't want to marry; though Hesse finds the concept of Lebensborn to be strange and unnerving (Major Jan Delbrück, who participated in this manner for a while, quit for this exact reason--"It got weird"), so he constantly declines. Anyway. I can easily envision a fanatic-type woman like this being involved in Project Ultima Thule, though whether instead of Sigrid, or alongside her, I'm unsure yet. I'm leaning toward them working together.

Anyway again, Sigrid and her exact role in the plot are currently wide open to further development at a time when I have the opportunity to brainstorm. There are a few other names on my old character list who haven't been dropped yet and could provide fodder for the lacking final story arc as well.

[Sigrid Richter 2023 [‎Friday, ‎August ‎18, ‎2023, ‏‎2:00:16 AM]]

[bigskydreaming]

That point about a sure thing is the problem. It used to be there were safe pictures and prestige pictures, but then came the Nolan movies showing a safe picture could win an Oscar. Hell, comics are falling victim to this too, hence writing for trades and circular storylines.

Oh for sure, comics have been victim to this for awhile. I mean, that's been (one of) my biggest gripe(s) with Taylor's Nightwing run from day one....its basically just regurgitations of the biggest beats from Dick's 90s run, redressed in shiny new Reboot universe set dressing but aside from the superficial changes, literally no new narrative ground is being broken anywhere. When was the last time Dick Grayson actually changed or grew in any kind of meaningful way that wasn't just a revisitation of an older story or a wink-wink callback to someone else's run?

Its both interesting and sad that the bar is so low that X-Men comics were able to lure me back to being so invested in them merely by shaking up expectations. Like, the funny thing about the current (controversial) era of X-Men comics is there's a lot, a LOT about the stories and character choices being made that I fundamentally DO NOT LIKE. Don't even get me started on Percy's books, I hate so many of Duggan's takes, etc.

But the thing that keeps me coming back to those comics, despite all the elements I dislike or disagree with, is at least they're doing something NEW. At least there's no real way to see what's coming from one month to the next, because they kinda threw out the old playbook with the whole Krakoan paradigm, whereas so many other comics are so wholly paint by numbers that if predicting next month's issue was the way to win a lottery, I'd be financially set for life.

And the thing that's really interesting to me about X-Men comics these days is for all that people act like Hickman reinvented the wheel with his shake-up of the status quo there....he didn't, actually? "There's nothing new under the sun" remains just as true there as it does in DC-landia. But the novelty lies in how he APPROACHED the idea that there's nothing really new that can be done with comics, versus say, Taylor's approach.

What I mean by that is....one of the biggest fundamental changes to the X-books these days is the whole "mutants have 'conquered' death" thing. Mutant resurrection/immortality. On the surface, it IS a brand new paradigm that radically changes the nature of storytelling in X-Men comics. But dig just below that....and this story element is not remotely new at all. Not only did the Judgment Day event highlight the fact that Marvel itself has its fair share of immortal societies already....and not only can anyone who's watched the 2003 Battlestar Galactica show confirm that mutant resurrection - both in mechanics and themes - is literally just....Cylon resurrection......

The most interesting thing about the whole concept of mutant resurrection to me, is its simply an embrasure of the age-old, much commented upon fact that....nobody ever truly dies in comics! Everyone comes back, sooner or later! There's NOTHING new, fundamentally, about the idea that mutants can now come back to life....because they've literally been doing that like clockwork ever since Jean Grey first pulled that particular rabbit out of the hat!

90% of A, B and even C list mutants have already died and come back at least once, loooong before the current Krakoan era. Hell, I can only think of a handful like Bobby and Hank who HAVEN'T died and come back in the past.

Its not the story beat itself that's new, or feels new.....the newness lies entirely in the APPROACH. The fact that they took this basic, fundamental staple of comic book storytelling.....the idea that nobody ever truly dies for good.....and were like...how can we look at this from a new angle? What if we're not trying to come up with a brand new, never before seen IDEA, but simply....come up with a new CONVERSATION to have around ideas that people are so used to seeing play out, they've taken it for granted that there's nothing new to even be SAID about that idea?

And that's the difference, IMO....because the novelty of the current storytelling paradigm in the X-books, if you ask me.....lies purely in the fact that for decades, the inevitable resurrection of characters in comics has been treated as a gimmick, or even an embarrassment. Like I mean, so many times when characters are brought back, the writers just kinda speedrun through the logistics of that particular resurrection almost as if they're embarrassed by what they're doing, if that makes sense?

Almost as if there's this undercurrent where they're like "yeah yeah, we KNOW this is fucking ridiculous, we can't believe what's coming out of our mouths either, but what can we do? This character is a money maker so its not like we can just LEAVE them dead, so we had to come up with SOME way to bring them back, so just....ignore the elephant in the room that is how fucking ABSURD this sounds or feels and just go with it so we can get to the part where nobody cares that this character was dead and came-back-via-ridiculousness five minutes ago, we're back to just telling stories with them as usual."

In contrast, the current X-book model for narrative death decided to just....lean directly into the idea that all major characters - given enough time - will always come back anyway....and just decided to run with that to its furthest possible degree. Build in a blanket explanation that works across the board, that extends the benefits of this comic book trope to EVERY character within this particular franchise, refuse to be embarrassed by the logistics or 'necessity' of it, and just.....go wild with it. See what you can come up with when you're not narratively wincing every time you dance around it, but instead are just running straight at it with clear intent.

THAT'S the difference between reinvention and regurgitation, IMO. Its not about the WHAT you're doing that's old or familiar or that's been done in some fashion before.

Its about the WHY you're doing it. What you hope to achieve by doing it.

And when you boil things down via that particular lens....

...and on the one hand have comics replicating, even industrializing a single, familiar story beat in order to maximize the number of new story beats you can catalyze from that one singular launchpoint, all in the aim of igniting new conversations about the whole nature of death and immortality and exploring themes of identity and the soul and 'what really makes us who we are' and 'what happens to a society that no longer fears death, does that beget innovation or just stagnation'....

....and then on the other hand, you have comics just recycling old, familiar story beats as blatant nostalgia bait aimed solely at reigniting in readers the feelings and conversations they already had upon the initial telling of these story beats, based on the logic ‘well if it was popular once, it should be popular this time too, that’s as close as we can get to a sure thing, makes doing it a safe bet’...

Well. Those are two totally different approaches to 'the old is new again' - and only one of them holds any appeal for me whatsoever.

[aronarchy]

I wanna hear about your transhumanist ideas! 👀 /gen /posi

Last month I answered this ask from someone else, detailing which aspects of transhumanism I feel are most relevant to my own life/the ones I personally want/need first (or at least the ones which were at the forefront of my mind/were the easiest to think up at the time) (along with some other things).

Transhumanism at its core is the belief that we (and this logic extends to all sentient beings (or whatever else encompasses "all beings with ethical utility")) all deserve to not suffer (or whatever is the more accurate equivalent/summary of "not experiencing negative utility") as much as possible/as much as we want, and deserve to have whatever we need in order to achieve this. Transhumanism demands a total rejection of all essentialist moral imperatives—the assertion that things are (morally) obligated to be a certain way simply because That's What They're Supposed To Be Like (with no genuine non-circular justifications for it; their only true reasoning, when reduced, is "well Nature/God(s) intended it to be that way" and from there "well you are supposed to obey their (supposed) dictums because you're supposed to and that's just the way things are").

Transhumanism is less a single set of some ideas than a framework through which we view and interpret reality and ethical questions and future-planning; our resulting ideas/specific proposals for specific situations/to meet specific needs all stem from those fundamental principles.

I believe that my life sucks to a great degree, and everyone's life sucks to at least some degree, and that instead of passively accepting the status quo as just and fair we should change that, because we don't "deserve" such suffering, and most of us are convinced we deserve it because accepting the alternative brings a great deal of hopelessness and despair and anger, and many try to convince each other that we deserve it as that's what they've always been told, and "you're obligated to suffer/suffering makes life worth living/you're supposed to suffer if nature/god intended it to be that way/well it's Not Actually That Bad and it's okay that you can't choose to opt out of it because you don't/won't/can't actually want to choose" is baked into the very foundations of our fundamentalist and capitalist exploitative culture.

A particular priority of transhumanists is life extension/immortality—recognizing that it's a horror that we are forced to develop diseases, painfully age and then die, and hoping to remedy that ASAP. (I believe the idea of resurrection as an option is important as well, but that's a slightly different issue.) This is part of a larger desire for total bodily autonomy and morphological freedom (ability to physically do with your body whatever you want, change it however you want, or even have multiple bodies or not have a body at all. I'm particularly excited to get cat ears and become an anime girl and also physically resolve the most painful parts of my mental illnesses in ways which aren't currently possible/which I don't have any options for at our current technological level.)

Some more things would be using physical technological means to solve any other physical problem you can think of right now which seems like it has no solution. Teleportation makes a lot of sense. Expanding our living space. Resolving our current environmental issues. Making ecological disaster leading to death or species extinction no longer a threat to us. Etc.

I believe transhumanism necessarily requires anarchism and anarchism necessarily requires transhumanism (if consistent and totally liberatory). Some other transhumanists have done more political thinking/writing in terms of possible tech/how to manage it without causing harm/suffering. Lecter suggested the idea of physical/technological alterations to "human nature" (if that's a thing we could uniformly change successfully for such ends in the first place) to totally eradicate abuse/violence. (I mean his purely political attempts/plans to eradicate abuse/violence are kind of lacking and that might be why he felt the need, and I've tried thinking a bit about how that could be implemented as consensually as possible/with minimum human rights violations/if that's even possible and am also interested in keeping that open as an option, but that's a whole other topic and it's a bit too messy/brain-scrambly for me.)

Transhumanists acknowledge that many of these ideas are very very likely to not come true anytime soon. We also reject doomers who conflate "this is unlikely to come true anytime soon" with "well it's not worth having/it's wrong to strive for it/you shouldn't try at all/then wanting it/believing you should have it is wrong/'frivolous.'"

[starlit-miasmas]

good omens season 2 is real and im insane. thoughts on ep1-3 below the cut B) not full thoughts bc my ass does Not rember

EP1 first off its really effing pretty! stars! nebulae! i keep forgetting nebula is an actual word and not just my screenname but it's cool we ball :)

dont remember it exactly but crowley going like "its beautiful" and zira smiling a lil bit while looking @ crowley nd going like "yea" these bitches rly been in love since before time was a meaningful concept

ALSO THE WING THING! parallels!!! crowley sheltering zira!!!!!!! im in love.

naked man friend. jim reminds me of my sibling tbh. utterly impossible to talk to. ineffable husbands third chance at coparenting! (if you count adam as someone they've coparented)

crowley screaming and sparking lightning in the middle of street, i wish i could handle anger like that tbh.

homeless crowley but at least he still got the plants! just move in together already you know you want to

not the locked in together trope w the cafe + record shop lesbians 😭 does nina's partner write messages on paper in red ink, take pictures of them, and then send them to her or is it just a style choice?? the world may never know????

EP2 crowley's first matchmaking idea is really just their meeting on the wall of eden. rain them in together and force them to take shelter in close proximity?? that was literally you 6000 years ago my guy

also in love with all the past content !! the start of the thing where zira's always the one eating and crowley just drinks and watches !!!!

ineffable husbands first time collaborating to screw over their head offices and think of the humanity <3 i love them. crowley applauding zira's first time being s lying bastard. he's so proud of his boyf.

also. "lonely?" "you said it wasn't :(" "i'm a demon. i lied." im insane im in shambles im sobbing

EP3 ah yes regular human police officer. is this the second angel theyre gonna have to teach how to be a normal earthdweller

also CROWLEY SITTING ON ZIRAS ARMREST. gay as hell seating choice. the physical affection is real. zira just accepting it like Yeah this happens.

i love that the bookshop's warded against all demons except crowley. exception for the boyf :)

zira learns moral complexity through bodysnatching! hell yea! also apparently poison just makes immortal occult beings drunk ?! wild tonal shift there but that was certainly a scene.

also zira taking the bentley and making it more aziraphaleish i love it. crowley just Knows something is wrong with his child. also using actually selling books as a threat is so funny.

crowley says "it's always too late" my only thought is "you go too fast for me" i dont know if theyre meant to be read in tandem but. the brain goes whee!

[saltyemoo]

An introduction to Sanya (for the uninitiated)

> auDHD. Gremlin. Will go off on the most unhinged tangents about the most out of nowhere, only vaguely by a stretch but mostly unrelated topics ever in the middle of conversation. Occasional 4th wall breaker.

> The living embodiment of "emotional damage." There is no therapy in the world they live in now so basically everyone's fucked. That's what happens when you're not picky about the souls you capture to convert into all-powerful beings to do your bidding.

> Literally just a kid from Ohio who got murder-kidnapped by magical freaks from another universe. Has an existential crisis every Wednesday about the fact that they are not actually alive in this point in time and is actually just magically VR-controlling someone else's corpse from the fucking aether. Has come to terms with the fact that every time they fall asleep there is a 50/50 chance the body's previous inhabitant will slamdunk herself into their dream to roast them for not being even more of a murderer, and then sit them down for important lute playing lessons.

> Spent way too long in the fostercare system and sustained severe irreversible damage to their psyche as a result. Has since been repeatedly wronged in various ways by every adult they've ever come to know over the years, with very few exceptions. Granted, none of the adults they know now are exactly stable, but they still treat them better than anyone else ever did.

> Has two girlfriends: a cute witch and an insecure goblin. Sanya was actually ready to fight said goblin to the death for their crush's heart and for allegedly being an enemy spy so it's really funny now the circumstances of their relationship.

> Looked like a normal human until recently. Singlehandedly dragged the party into an epic battle against a quasi-immortal demi-god-king drunk on necromantic power, dealt the fatal blow without an ounce of knowledge regarding the consequences to such an action, and accidentally almost doomed the world, only realizing this when the dead began to rise and chaos ensued. Turns out the man had bound himself to a mystical item that links the living world to the world of the dead or something, oof. The group mom had it handled tho nbd [flashbacks to a traumatic self-sacrificial ritual which the party was forced to watch helplessly, Sanya begging for death] it was fine. World not destroyed but that didn't stop literal Hell Gates from opening up across the country or demons from pouring out of them. Here We Go Again. Anyway they're a demon now which means they get a special Alter Form and that is how they gained the ability to turn into a furry red catgirl.

> Selective mute who does not ever shut the fuck up around the right people.

> Do not touch without consent they WILL bite. Enjoys headpets. Touch their hair and they will fall asleep on you.

> Wields Holy Hellfire as a magic ability. This is a terrible idea because it feeds off of and is fueled, specifically, by their emotions. Whether it fucks you up severely or not depends on if you fucked up big time and got on their bad side. (Side note: this teenager is NOT EMOTIONALLY STABLE and should not have this power in their hands. Worst Idea Ever.)

> Just a little guy. A little birthday baby. A sad, skrunkly kitty cat. The most anxious, traumatized child soldier with parental issues and a potential to destabilize the entire continent ever.

Hello and thank you for reading please ask me questions about this idiot so I have an excuse to inflict my hyperfixation on everyone even more

[voidsumbrella]

re: [this post]:

so i wuv to get into rapid healing/immortality as body horror and try to invoke it whenever im in a setting where it's possible, which as of yet has been exactly… twice… but thats fine.

but: witch! i have nnnno idea if ive ever gone into this here, but their whole deal is that they're running god software on human hardware; they have the ability to manipulate reality to conform to their exact expectations and obey their every command, but at the expense of the energy it would take to do so, and thanks to having a squishy (mostly) human body, they only have a limited amount of energy to work with at any one time. this energy can be stockpiled, and even hitting complete zero won't kill them in the sense of erasing their soul, but burning through all of it too fast without adequate preparation can and will cause their flesh to cease being able to sustain itself and they'll keel over dead until they recharge. the amount of power they have and the speed at which is regenerates is proportional to the amount of faith people have in them and their abilities (it is god magic, after all!), and as such they're constantly trying to help as many people as they can. they're a professional wish granter.

there's a whole list of rules and caveats as to how this whole thing works in practice and a longer list for why it works like that, which ill spare you from reading (and myself from having to write coherently off the top of my head), but the short version is that they take payment from those who ask for their wishes granted so as to offset the energy cost from themself, and they're always juggling ways to reduce that cost so they don't fuck themself or their client over. so! if they're requested to heal someone's injuries their list of options that might be something like:

speed up the body's natural healing process: the energy drain split is between them (for allowing rapidity) and the patient (actually healing the injury); only works if the injury is nonlethal and comparatively minor, like a bad cut or a broken bone; the patient would probably be fatigued for a while, but wouldn't be in pain.

give the body the energy to heal itself, even if it would not be able to do so on its own: can work on whatever, but places the energy cost entirely on them; fine for minor injuries, but for something lethal they'd either have to work at the pace their energy is refilling, or pour everything they have at once to get the person stable knowing their heart will stop partway through, and finish patching them up in a second session once they've woken up.

prevent the injury from happening via a localized time distortion: this is almost never on the table, as changing any timeline in any way is insanely difficult 99.999999999% of the time.

reset the body to its original condition: this requires them to have knowledge of the body in its original condition of the body is, or be willing to gamble that someone else's "blueprint" would work well enough. incredibly circumstantial as to if its possible at all, highly variable energy cost.

get the person medical aid that they would not otherwise be able to access: they keep a comprehensive first aid kit and a variety of healing potions across a spectrum of magic systems on them at all times, as well as a pile of shortcuts to different medical institutions. this is what they go with whenever possible: the energy cost is very low, if not free, and they're not interested in making people trade everything they have to avoid dying from preventable causes. insert united states medical system joke here.

their options are a little more limited if they have to perform first aid on someone without making a contract with them. snapping their fingers and willing it to be fixed hands-off will pick a random vaguely plausible method with an unpredictable cost that will be entirely on them; their magic is incompatible with 99.9% of other universes so just manually pouring energy into them will be slow, inefficient, and runs the risk of poisoning the person before healing them. their body can barely handle being flooded with raw god energy, and they've been adjusting to it for 500+ years.

at least regenerating their own body is easy enough.

[practically-an-x-man]

Uncommon Questions for OCs and their creators:

For Jasper, Robin, and Prometheus

2, 7, 10, 25, 39

Then the creator questions

C, E, F

Thank you so much!! You're the best!

Answers under the cut as always

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Jasper: Oh, so easy. They can feel everyone else's amusement, for one, but they just have a very easy laugh even without the empathic abilities.

Robin: She can keep a straight face when she needs to. She's a professional actor, after all, she knows how not to break. But when she's not trying to stifle it, it's very easy to make her laugh

Prometheus: not very. They're pretty stoic, just on principle. But that's not to say that they don't have a sense of humor. You're in for a treat once I get this new fic finished...

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Jasper: I feel like there's a few specific songs that would trigger nostalgia, because they're so connected to music. As for whether it's pleasant, it depends on the memory. Some things are nice, but most of them are definitely not.

Robin: Irish food, the sorts of things she grew up eating. And since she's so close with her family, she definitely enjoys that sort of nostalgia.

Prometheus: It's kind of hard to determine nostalgia with an immortal being... That being said, there are a few moments with the kids that remind them of their prior life, and they're not always a fan.

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

Jasper: Not one lie, but they're definitely the sort of person to just make up random "facts" just for shits and giggles. Like, "hey, did you know that sometimes peoples' blood will just turn green? It happens when you eat too much Vitamin K, like in kale and spinach". No, definitely doesn't haunt them, they get a kick out of it.

Robin: There have been a few jobs where she omitted the fact that she was Deaf. Before she started working with Cindy, she had a bit of trouble getting hired because of that. It doesn't exactly "haunt" her, but she does wish she'd been a little more up-front about it.

Prometheus: Not so much an outright lie, but they definitely omit that they used to be a nightmare. Not exactly conducive to comfort. The lie itself doesn't haunt them, but their past does.

25. What are their thoughts on marriage?

Jasper: Before Kyle, they hadn't really considered it. But since then they've warmed up to the idea, to say the least.

Robin: Oh, absolutely in the cards for her. At first she's a little concerned that Peter would have trouble settling down, but that worry fades pretty quickly. He's stuck around this long, after all, and he doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

(and eventually they do get married and have a daughter but shhh)

Prometheus: Can dreams really get married to one another? Not in a legal sense, I don't think. At the very least, it's never really been on their radar. They weren't even expecting to find romance, let alone consider the possibility of marriage. But if a certain someone were to drag them down to a Waking church someday, even just to pretend...

29. Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

Jasper: They feel like they don't, but that's mostly just irrational anxiety. Looking at it logically, they're past anything they'd have hoped for.

Robin: Usually, yes. She puts in the work, and it often pays off for her.

Prometheus: No, but that's only because they hold themself to an impossible standard. They can't help everyone, it's impossible even for a dream, but they sure wish they could

And the creator questions...

C. Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

Jasper: I don't think I had trouble, it just took me by surprise. I was expecting much more of a slowburn than I actually put onto the page, and I had to rework a few things because of it

Robin: No? There were a few details that got tweaked, especially when I made the decision to make her a Cassidy instead of just another mutant, but overall I've had a pretty clear idea the whole way through.

Prometheus: A little, mainly because this OC was a lot more spur-of-the-moment than the other ones. But I think I got it worked out in the end.

E. Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Jasper: Oh, 100% both ways. Genderqueer, alt, complete music nerds, we'd get along really well. Writing them even feels a bit like I'm talking to a friend.

Robin: I'd say yeah. Again, I feel like we'd bond over music. I've done a bit of opera myself, and I'm in the top choir at my uni, so I feel like that would be something to bond over.

Prometheus: Hard to say. I'd like to say yes we'd get along, just because they're a pretty positive force, but I don't think we'd be friends exactly.

F. What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

I'm gonna answer these altogether since it's pretty much the same answer for all of them: a bit of pride, intrigue, and contentment. This is what writing's about for me, exploring the different characters, so I take a lot of enjoyment in thinking about my characters. Sometimes they're a little harder to write than others, but overall it's a positive experience for me :)

Thank you again!! You're amazing!