#I mostly just do the digsites lately

[wigglesdtuff]

any domestic headcanons for hanahone?

Ohhh this is a fun one - I'll try and come up with some stuff it's mostly just nebulous in my brain!

It's simple, but they just enjoy each other's presence even when they're not talking. The soft noises of knowing someone else is there especially late into the night are comforting to them both, and neither of them have to say anything. They just know.

They have the most pleasant tea gossiping sessions in the mornings before a lot of the crew are fully awake. It's all in good fun, but one of them will say some of the meanest shit and follow it up with "oh but I hope they're doing well/I don't wish them any ill will"

They use a lot of quiet sounds to communicate when they want to be private about it (little rhythmic taps on Brook's bones of a song they both know etc).

They talk about the West Blue a lot, Brook having grown up there decades before Robin was born and before Ohara was destroyed. He probably knows a bit about Ohara's reputation. He probably talks a lot about his memories, maybe to help stop them from fading altogether with new ones - she's happy to record what she finds interesting.

Perhaps the most morbid on the crew, they would be the worst (best) duo to hang out with Usopp, Nami and/or Chopper for long periods of time because they'd take turns thinking of ways to purposefully rile them up together. They think everything a fuckin game.

Robin does steal bones from time to time to either sketch them, roleplay a digsite, or just to mess with him. She does not explain ahead of time which one.

She started out barely tolerating his skull jokes but now she frequently makes them herself. This is good for Brook because he has someone more morbid than him to bounce off of, or he falls to dust when she steals his thunder.

Almost any time they cuddle, she can't help but bluntly point out that he's not comfortable, and he will politely remind her she doesn't have to stay where she is (that she got into in the first place), but she always indignantly refuses to leave (because she wants to be there) and they just get creative with pillows if it's an issue.

Brook may have his panty gag, but I can guarantee you the stuff Robin whispers to him is worse on purpose. No one will believe him, or they do they just don't care.

They love quiet nights and duets together when they can't sleep. Brook knows so many songs that Robin recognizes, but can't place. They both lament that memory is such a fleeting thing.

He makes her curious, so she often checks what he is and isn't capable of the second she has the thought. "Does this hurt?" "Can you smell this?" "Do you feel cold?"

He's like an old dog - notsomuch a puppy, but like he has the literal undying loyalty of someone who has been there for a long time and has no intention of leaving. His patience is endless.

Okay that's all I can come up with for now, but I'd love to hear what other folks come up with!! I don't even know if this counts for domestic but I just rambled about them.

[dragonmagitech]

I spent so long staring at this trying to figure out what it meant and then I realized that. My progens are extremely old. And I turned one of them into an Aberration. So.

Technically, I guess? In a way?

[scholar-thief]

[ RP LOG ]

Momori meets Cheche Dotharl. They collect clay. @cheche-dotharl

Momori can be seen leaving her tent, her arms full with a large sack that bulged in awkward places. She could scarcely see over her luggage, but despite that, she still strode on with a brisk pace.

Cheche is standing in place, though there's a pause as she hears someone approach. Her hands stop from her work, carving some sort of bone, as her gold eyes shift downwards as if to follow Momori's trajectory. She doesn't move out of the way for now, however, head head curiously tilted.

Momori collides into the au ra! The bag hits the floor, and several curious objects roll out from it. A small spade, several apples, and countless glass vials. Momori lies dazed on the floor, and looks up. Another expeditioner? And...what a way to make an introduction. She mumbles a few curses under her breath.

Cheche 's lips part very slightly, eyes blinking. Oh. "-- sorry. Are you all right?" She reaches, then looks a little surprised. Then keeps reaching. Keeps reaching and... ah. There she is. Momori is picked up and set on her feet and dusted before the xaela bends down, patting the ground as if to search for the various things she heard fall to the ground.

Momori lifts a finger to her neck, and nods at Cheche. “Hearts still pounding, so I should be good. Can’t say the same about my ego, though…You’re Cheche, right?” Momori shakes a vial from out of her sleeve, and begins to unceremoniously shove the bag’s contents back in with her foot.

Cheche is gentle in comparison, picking up as much as she could before offering the items one at a time. An apple here, a vial there... "Ah, then my apologies again about the ego. Yes, I am Cheche. And whom may I be speaking to...?"

Momori: “Momori. Charmed.” She brandishes the small gardening spade as though wielding a dagger, and tosses it gracefully in the air, catching it behind her back...then shoves it into the bag with a sigh. “Was about to go collect some clay samples from Voor Sian Siran, but…” She looks at the hulking mess of a bag. “...don’t suppose you have some free time to help out a weak and pitiful lalafell?”

Cheche nods. "-- a pleasure," she agrees easily. She offers a smile then, shaking her head. "I would not mind doing so, though I am still somewhat unfamiliar with this area. Too big with too many cliffs. If you lead the way, you have my hands at your disposal."

Momori gratefully hands the bag over to Cheche. “As long as you carry that, I’d be happy to lead on. Your very own seeing eye lalafell, heehee!” Momori’s face, usually stoic, shows Cheche a mischievous grin. Somehow, /somewhere/ she finds the situation humorous. “Let’s be off then! Suns dropping low, wouldn’t want to get caught out in the dark. You know what happens...in the dark.”

Cheche holds out her hand, accepting the bag offered. As everything, she carefully slings it over her shoulder to carry it, crossed over to the other side of her existent bag. "What does happen in the dark?" Her question is genuine, eyes upon Momori as if to follow her movements.

Momori: “Oh, just some tall tales I’ve heard from the locals. There’s a rotund, spirit, oh so jolly, decked in red and white. And, well....Let’s just hope you haven’t been up to anything naughty recently.” Momori gives Cheche an ominous look, her gaze steely and cold. Then proceeds to continue hiking towards their destination.

Cheche looks thoughtful to that, steps slow but keeping up easily with the shorter lalafell. "-- no, I have not heard of such a spirit," she muses. "Where does it hail from? What defines what is naughty? What happens to those that are?" Her questions are entirely honest, a rhythmic twitch of her tail as if she's paying attention.

Momori: “A land far, far separated from our own. From a place known only as...the North pole.” Momori leads the two of them around some gastronis, giving the wildlife a wide berth, just in case. “Naughty, well, like telling lies, or pulling pranks. Is that the sort of stuff you get into, Cheche?”

Cheche looks thoughtful again, her eyes picking up briefly to stare skywards. "-- no, I have not heard of such a place. What brings such a spirit so far away from home? It is rare for them to stray so far from where they hail." Her tail twitches again before she looks down back to Momori, shaking her head. "I do not think so. Do you?"

Momori: “An insatiable appetite for naughty souls, of course. Under the cover of darkness, unfortunate victims are simply whisked away, with but a lump of coal left at where they once stood…” Momori pauses for dramatic effect, and glances back at Cheche. “If not for your sake, then for mine, we should avoid the night.” She cracks a smile, not directly answering the au ra’s question, nor giving away any indication that she had made up the entire tale on the spot.

Cheche seems to take Momori's story very seriously, fingers gently drumming upon her lips. "-- well, if we find ourselves under the threat of such a spirit, I will do what I can to keep you safe. But you are right-- it best be that we do not venture late at night then. Or at least, if there is no choice, not to do so alone."

Cheche: "I forgot to ask," she belatedly mentions. "-- what do you need clay samples for?"

Momori nods, a little amused at how seriously Cheche is taking her story. She wonders if this is how all tall tales start.

Momori: “Oh, it’s for a project I’ve been working on. Ancient Sil’dih pottery that’s been shattered to near a thousand pieces. There’s a very particular clay around here that’s a good glue and stabilizing agent. That is, if we can find it, whilst avoiding the feisty wildlife.”

Cheche hums, thoughtful again. "-- shattered pottery. I am sorry to hear that. You are trying to fix it?" She doesn't seem to mind venturing into the water, it coming up to her ankles. "Would you rather I keep an eye out for the wildlife? Or... if there is a way to know how to recognize the right clay, I could help you seek it out."

Momori looks around, observing the shell-like patterns submerged underneath the water...which, by the way, nearly came all the way up to her waist. “Yep. There could be a pattern, or paintings on the outside of the pot. Worth studying, or at least conserving so later generations can enjoy it.” She then turns to Cheche and pokes the bag.

Momori: “The clay we’re looking for is almost pitch black, but we’ll have to dig around for it. I brought a bunch of apples to tame the wildlife, so let's start by tossing them places away from our digsite?”

Cheche shows a mild smile to that. "Of course. It is a noble effort." To Momori's description there's a brief 'ah', though she nods soon enough to her directions. "I have a knife. Would it be better for us to cut pieces and throw them, or put them away whole?"

Momori nods. “Cut it up, so we can have a few slices of our own. As nutritious as slop is, I haven’t had something sweet in a long time..I heard there were honey cakes, but by the time I dropped by, there weren’t even crumbs left.”

Cheche looks apologetic to that. "Ah, yes. They disappeared quite quickly, yes..." She looks for a little hunting knife, clearly hand-crafted from some sort of bone rather than metal forged. One of the apples are cut, and with each peace she'd lower it down to Momori's hands before pulling off another one.

Momori is quite pleased. Gear, carried. Apples, cut. This au ra was very helpful to have around! She chomped on her slice and eyed the strange knife that Cheche held in her hands. “Curious little blade you got there. Hand carved?”

Cheche nods, cutting up the rest of the apples to place around. "Ah, yes. Where I hail from, everything we own is made by our own hands. It is our way of life, after all." There's a pause. "Would you like another piece?"

Momori nods, and grabs another piece of apple. She then gives Cheche her best impression of puppy dog eyes, though when merged with her resting bitch face, Momori just looks kind of....strange. “Could I take a look at the blade?”

Cheche 's expression doesn't quite change, still staring towards Momori as if to regard her. "Ah, yes. Of course." She offers the blade, making sure as not to point the sharper end towards the lalafell. "Would you like me to set the apples out while you do?"

Momori is already deeply engrossed in observing the blade. Her eyes light up in a way that they haven't before. She snaps back to attention. “Huh? Oh, yes. Toss the apples around.”

Cheche does that indeed. Momori would find that she's not accurate AT ALL, but at least it doesn't matter as much as long as they're scattered. The blade is simple but seems to do its job, mostly half of it flattened and sharpened at one side. The hilt is decorated, carved with foreign patterns that likely have worn down with time.

Momori: “These patterns...I can’t say I know much of Othgardian culture. Do they symbolize something? Tell a story, or picture a god?” Momori stares at Cheche with a bright intensity. The lalafell demeanor has shifted, dramatically. Her once flat gaze is now lit up with passion that is almost overwhelming.

Cheche looks back to Momori, the tip of her tail rising slightly with attention. "Ah. Well. They all mean different things, yes." She lowers herself by bending her knees, more of her longer tail submerged in the water. Her hand carefully touches Momori's arm, searching its way to the dagger to locate the hilt. She points to each pattern with her finger, explaining the different animals that they represent.

Momori eagerly listens to Cheche’s explanation, gobbling up the information with increased fervor. It wasn’t often she could learn about such a foreign culture, straight from the source. Only the feeling of water in her boots snapped her out of the trance - that’s right, the clay! Momori forced herself to peel her attention away from the dagger. “I would love to have you tell me more. But! My feet are starting to feel pruned, and the clay isn’t going to dig itself out.”

Cheche chuckles a litttle to that, straightening up. "Of course. Clay." She accepts the dagger back, plucking it up carefully before returning it to its leather sheathe. It's placed back to her belongings. "So, how does one go about collecting such? Do I simply... dig?"

Momori: “Dig, dig, dig! With this, though.” Momori pulls the gardening spade from the bag. She then looks down at the water, and her brow furrows. “Ugh, it’s going to be messy digging with water slooshing everywhere. I didn’t think of that.”

Cheche accepts the spade, examining it with her hands. She feels it carefully, looking confused for a moment. "-- ah. Is this a dagger?" Her head tilts to Momori, then looks downwards. "If you do not wish to, I could do it."

Momori: “Unless you were trying to kill someone slowly and inefficiently, I wouldn’t use that as a dagger. Though, it is an interesting idea...could have some use during...hmm...” Momori thinks to herself, seriously considering the idea of using a gardening spade in a clearly terrible way. “Anyway, please, go ahead! Just stab the soft ground with it and start making a hole. Meanwhile, I’ll try to figure out a way to drain the water.”

Cheche does just that, squatting down proper to poke at the ground. She does so quite literally, stabbing and stabbing and stabbing and... not getting anywhere. At least she's got the spirit, her expression firm with concentration.

(Momori) HMM (Momori) is. is she just. stabbing??! the same spot?!? (Cheche) yes (Momori) PLES..... im cry (Cheche) the ground got what it deserved (Momori) 911 id like to report a murder (Cheche) GOT WHAT IT DESERVED!!!!!!

Momori wanders off and eyes a large limpet, attached to stone that peeked up from the water. Using her dagger, she slices around it and forces it off. With the mollusk’s flesh discarded, its shell made a decent enough container to lug water in. She comes back to find Cheche just. Stabbing! Stabbing away. There’a blossom of brown dirt in the water at where this is happening.

Momori: “..............How’s the hole coming along?”

Cheche just... keeps stabbing. The mud is really getting what it had coming for it. "-- ah. I am unsure if it is... working?" Her head tilts. "I could try using my hands. Or am I wielding it incorrectly?"

Momori doesn’t know what to say at first. It’s kind of entertaining to watch Cheche stab the dirt like a crazed murderer, but on the other hand, she needed clay! Letting this continue would probably just result in a mud hole. “Try pushing the spade towards yourself, and then scooping the dirt away. And if that doesn’t work, yes, use your hands.”

Cheche stares with newfound focus, trying as she's told. She's... somewhat successful! Her tail flicks upwards with her newfound knowledge, likely sending some water flying behind her. "-- ah, I see. You called this object a spade?" She tries a few more times, tail plopping to the water with a mild splash before flicking from side to side.

Momori blinks. Does Cheche not know what a spade is? Momori bends over, using her limpet bucket to scoop some water away from the hole that is steadily being dug. “Spade. It’s used for digging, gardening…” Momori can’t help herself. A tell-tale grin spreads on her lips. “...and for eating. Yes. A useful tool to have around!”

Cheche hums. "I see. A tool that is used in a multitude of ways..." She seems to believe Momori, clearly fascinated at the object. "I can see how it would be helpful, yes. It is very effective. Do you often use such a tool?"

Momori: “All the time. Perhaps when we’re back at camp, I can show you it’s other uses.” Momori pours away some brown water, and then peers into the hole. Something black, and markedly more dense, lies underneath a few ilms of dirt. “Hm! I think we’ve found what we’re looking for.”

Cheche 's expression brightens, or has it? Compared to before, maybe. "You would? Ah, of course." She turns her attention back, digging a little quicker. They have clay to obtain!!

(Momori) hehe the two of them using....g...gardening spades at dinner time (Cheche) truly a romantic dinner (Cheche) wine involved (Momori) such fancy (Cheche) thank god (Momori) wine, gruel, and spades (Cheche) THANK GOD (Momori) FINALLY...some good food (Cheche) scoops the clay up to eat (Momori) HUFFS (Momori) NO!! (Momori) the forbidden sauce (Cheche) delicious (Momori) bloody good eating

Momori grabs a glass vial and fills it to the brim with the black clay, and a bit of water. There’s plenty of clay being dug out by Cheche, in mounds all around the original hole. By visiting these piles, Momori quickly fills all the vials. Messy, but a job well done! She looks to the camera, deadpan. “Nice.”

Cheche straightens up at the confirmation, having to stretch a little from spending so long squatted down. She's entirely COVERED with clay and mud, but it doesn't seem to bother her. "Did you manage to get what you needed?"

Momori stares at Cheche and laughs. “Hah! Thal’s balls...do you know where Cheche is? All I see is a mudman in front of me.”

Cheche chuckles, brushing some of the mud off to wash off with the water. "Never seen her. But if you do, please let me know." She nods to Momori. "Did you need anything else?"

Momori: “That’s all for today. You’ve been a big help, I should take you along for all my work…” She gives Cheche a thumbs up. Off in the distance, a gross slorping noise can be heard, as the local water slugs gorge themselves on the apple slices. The sun is just beginning to dip beneath the horizon. “We should get moving, while the fauna are still distracted by our bait. And before, well, the spirit comes around to harvest my soul.”

Cheche smiles. "Gotten into much mischief, then? I would be eager to get washed, myself. It has been a pleasure working with you, Momori." She nods again. "There is little for me to offer, but if you have the need of my assistance, you only need ask." After a brisk motion, she sets out to follow the lalafell back to camp... likely to learn of the "correct" use of spades and who knows what else.

[softgrungeprophet]

god-tier wyatt wingfoot:

naturally, OG jack kirby wyatt is also in this level for being a very handsome and charming young man with nice hair who is a thousand feet tall (okay, 6′6″) to johnny’s little 5′9″ twink ass

cover art from the recent very badly written oil arc. the... what issue was that? #20-something? the cover with moleman where johnny is wearing three shirts tucked into his jeans and wyatt’s rocking that outdoorsy hiking look. extremely handsome.

good tier: Allred-drawn-and-colored in the otherwise mediocre fraction FF run--handsome, hunky, nice hair. like, between good and god tbh.

most 2000s and onward wyatts before the slott run are pretty good overall (even though aburtov is not a good colorist). slott issue 1 and also whichever issue was the bachelor party are both pretty good too, handsome, tall, etc. love his red tuxedo with the bolo tie.

she hulk ceremony gets up here too, by virtue of being good looking, as do most of the other graphic novel appearances (minus byrne’s) for also, being very good looking. some of the GNs have some questionably handled background stuff and ceremony uses a LOT of stereotypes but as a whole (minus byrne’s) they tend to be done pretty well and are less mocking toward wyatt and more like... you know that whole, road to hell is paved with good intentions thing? like that.

like, the ka-zar GN with wyatt isn’t bad but it’s got this HEAVILY paternalistic approach to the “primitive natives,” you know? ceremony isn’t bad, and it’s obviously written by someone who knows how race works (by virtue of, you know, being black) and there’s obviously a lot of reference being used for the art but it’s still very much steeped in the whole mystical native american stuff that has definitely not aged well  (or ever?) but wyatt is also treated as a character with a complex interior and his own worries and stuff in a way that like, sensational she-hulk entirely fails to do. my feelings on these wyatt-centric GNs from the late 80s and thru the 90s are complex. he IS very handsome though.

so. otherwise those would be up there in the superb tier cause honestly he’s VERY handsome in them.

just okay tier:  points deducted from ryan stegman’s wyatt NOT because he doesn’t have good wyatt vibes (he’s pretty solid honestly) but because he is an ENTIRE FOOT shorter than he should be. he’s literally like 5′6″ in she-hulks because stegman draws pretty much everyone the same size. it’s wild. the colorist is also not the best but not the worst either. if steg’s wyatt wasn’t an entire foot too small, he’d be in the good tier. he’s written good too. i like him. he’s basically teetering toward pretty good if only he’d grow 12 inches taller.

most of the interior art from the slott run. a lot of it is just. meh. apart from the 1st and bachelor issue he’s usually too skinny or too short, WAY too pale, not very handsome, just not wyatt vibes sometimes to the extent that if i didn’t know he was supposed to be wyatt i would take a few minutes to figure out who he was supposed to be. like. it’s fine. it’s just okay. he’s not totally unrecognizable. but i’m not a fan and i hate jesus aburtov’s coloring (and most of the other colorists in this run aren’t great either) (hey why does this run have like 6 different art teams)

wyatt in claremont’s run. mostly that’s just an issue i have with the art  being overall very..... squishy. i don’t HATE it but i don’t love it. but i also don’t like the way claremont totally ignored every established fact about wyatt and just made up shit 👌 his personality was fine though. purely on aesthetics he’d be between “okay” and “good.”

that one single-panel appearance in the anniversary issue written by dwayne mcduffie. pros: aw he’s family, and he’s LARGE. cons: his face is not great. he’s possibly TOO large? his biceps are the size of watermelons it’s kind of a lot to take in. he’s alright tho.

there’s at least one comic (the one where lyja stalks johnny to a digsite where he’s hanging with wyatt and she-hulk) where wyatt looks like the punisher and i just. lmfao. but he’s an okay wyatt for the most part. a little TOO rugged but not the worst i’ve seen. and he was not red, which is always a bonus.

bad tier: anything with pink or light red skin, so pretty much anything from the 70s and part of the 80s. even skin color aside a lot of those artists gave him awful hair. some of them were okay but the reddish skin drags that down to bad. the only plus side was that he was always big. there were very few good wyatts between 1973 and 2000. also most of the single issues with him in them were just kind of ugly 🤷‍♂️

also there are a couple of really hideous wyatts from random one-off mini issues or 1-2 panel appearances through the 2000s and later that are baffling to behold and look literally nothing like him to the point of being completely unrecognizable. sometimes i wonder if the artist just hears, “he’s native american” and then draws a completely new character based on that alone. cause wow.

shit-tier: literally anything by john byrne (and glynis oliver/wein), both because it’s racist as hell both in terms of skin color (basically the only time wein didn’t make wyatt some shade of red was in the she hulk GN) and in terms of dialogue (like, jesus christ mr byrne), and also because byrne manages to make wyatt look unappealing even without color (though it’s still a marked improvement in b&w 😬).

his hair... is bad. his face... is fine i guess? his body.... is what str8 comic dudes think people who are attracted to men like. (aka a ridiculously shredded bodybuilder physique with zero body fat, flexing even when relaxed) (not a fan, thanks)