#and hes quite a bit older than Laz so there is that

[ninawolv3rina]

Added another character to In Perp, time to try really really hard not to ship him with Laz

[crowswritetoo]

who is your favorite oc you’ve ever created? the one who’s always on your mind?!

Thanks for the ask! That's a tough one. I thought about it for a while, and there's a few I really like and always come back to.

There's Nick from Grim, Grave, Gallant, and Blood.

Linc from Blood Calls to Blood.

Dominic from The Immediate Jewel of the Soul.

Falco from Nameless as the Moon.

But since GGGB is the WIP I’m focusing on for NaNo I’ll talk about Nick.

Nick is eighteen when the story starts, but he’s already been through a lot in that short amount of time. His home life is deeply unpleasant, and he rarely goes home because of that, instead opting to couch surf and squat in abandoned buildings to avoid his father. He gets in fights fairly often, but only because he hates bullies. 

Despite his difficult upbringing, however, he is one of the kindest guys you’ll ever meet. He laughs a lot, and he’s way more sensitive then he lets on. He’s an artist, and he gets his thrills from illegally spray-painting beautiful murals on abandoned buildings around town. He doesn’t own a sketchbook, he just uses a lined notebook and a pen, and doesn’t take his art seriously at all. It’s just a hobby for him, and he would never spend money on supplies because he thinks they’re wasted on him.

He’s wild, and spontaneous, and loves having fun. He also sometimes drinks and smokes a bit too much in the pursuit of that fun, and because he fears the quiet after the fun ends. He also loves attention, and can be very dramatic if need be, to get the attention he craves.

He loves animals, and if he could choose what to do with his life, he would probably choose to be a veterinarian at a zoo, like his mother was. He doesn’t see any future prospects for himself, unfortunately. He doesn’t see college as an option. He’s pretty sure he’ll end up working in fast food his whole life.

He’s a bit of a ladies man, but he’s not a user or a manipulator. He doesn’t sleep with a girl unless she understands that things probably won’t turn serious. He is open to a real connection, but it’s hard for him to connect with someone in a way other than physical, so he just has lots of sex and nearly always remains friends with the girls afterward. Rather than seeing girls as a conquest, it’s more like the other way around; the girls he goes to school with see hooking up with him as a point of pride, almost. Something to brag to other girls about. Someone to use as a standard to hold other guys to. Throughout the story, he discovers his bisexuality. Something he’d never considered about himself before, because his small southern town doesn’t give him many opportunities to be exposed to the possibility.

He hates the town he lives in, for multiple reasons, and he would have quit school and hit the road a long time ago if it weren’t for his friends. They’re the only reason he sticks around. Laz, Max, and Finn are his real family, not his abusive father or his absent older brother. He is unflinchingly loyal to them. He would die for them. It’s a good thing Laz won’t let that happen, though; Nick would die for any of his friends, but Laz would die for Nick.

[dxsole]

Drabble | Lázaro & Didi & Martin!

@patiencetaught​ wanted to see: Didi and Laz while Didi is in labor with Martin. And post-birth too because new parents are the shit.

Lázaro is almost positive the nurses and the doctor will remember the birth better than him. He knew Didi better than them and he was at least prepared for her supposedly high tolerance for pain to be tested. He will not forget how a vase that once held flowers was grabbed and thrown at the doctor in her pain fueled rage and how she nearly got the poor guy. Next thing he knows, she’s yelling at him at full volume in Spanish and swearing like she was possessed-- good ol’ Didi. 

Of course, he’s just grinning in the Father corner of the delivery room, gowned up with two gloved hands giving her a thumbs up because he’s smart enough to not get in her wingspan. Eventually he does get by her side, when suddenly there’s...a baby. An entire child-- Their baby. Holy shit. And suddenly she’s calm and cooing and looking positively serene. He’d like to assume it’s partly due to the fact she’s no longer trying to push out an entire human but he’d also like to think Martin was the cause. 

They’d already decided on Martin, as a nod to Didi’s mother Martina-- plus it was a nice name. The name of a saint, a warrior god, a strong name for a good kid. That’s all they really wanted in the end, just a happy child who would do even better than his parents did. “It’s hard to tell which one of us he looks like, hm.” Didi murmurs, her voice so weary and soft.

“Well, uh, babies ain’t supposed to look like much but lil’ pink...things, right?” Lázaro murmured, smiling wider as his wife snickered. 

“Well, I mean...I think his eyes are a bit like yours-- squinty, but I mean, that could just be because he’s not used to using them.” 

“I’m not...not squinty.” He squints as he says this.

“Alright sure...Ah, he’s got quite a lot of hair, non? Seems...seems straight. Not curly like mine?”

“Well, you know, babies grow and, uh, change...?” He pouts as Didi whacks his arm. “I’m just sayin’.”

“Lázaro...Do you think we’ll be good parents?” Even though her voice was already hoarse from yelling, this was said softly in a different way. In a more frightened way. “I just...I want him to be happy.” 

“We’ll be good parents. We’ll be good ‘cause we’re gonna try our hardest, yeah? You know this, we talked about this--”

“I know it’s just...different now that he’s here. It’s...it’s real--- holy shit, smell him.”

Lázaro has to bury his chuckles into her neck. “What? Did you just tell me to smell the baby? ”

“Seriously! Smell him, he has the baby smell-- I didn’t think that was true!” 

Lázaro takes a moment to look at this scene, Martin resting peacefully on her chest, tiny body breathing his first breathes, his mother grinning like mad and sniffing his head. It’s sweet. When he does get a whiff, he stands corrected. “Holy shit, he does have the baby smell--”

“Right!? Oh, oh shh, shh, he’s wriggling. Oh, he didn’t like that, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Mommy will be quiet.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna be one of them moms that refers to herself as Mommy?”

Didi throws him a look. “...I just gave birth. I pushed out our baby and you’re telling me what to do.”

“--I’m just sayin’.”

“...Mama?”

“...A little better, yeah.”

“Okay, Mama will be quiet. And Papa will be quiet too, right?” Didi cooed, stroking at Martin’s back. “What...what do you think he’ll be like? When he’s older?”

“Well, that’s a long way off, don’t you think? We gotta take this one day at a time, right? Let’s start with figuring out which one of us is gettin’ up first for diaper changes.”

“You are. I did the heavy lifting here, hm-- Lázaro, we should introduce ourselves.”

He squints again. “To...who? The doctor? I don’t think he wants to see us ever again, to be honest. You damn near took his head off--”

“No, to Martin. I mean, we talked to my belly while he was in there and everything but we should do it right. And we should record it. For memories.”

So thus began the first of many videos of the growing family. A slightly shaky phone video starting with Lázaro narrating: “Alright, so it is...August 8th...2018...5 in the pm--- and we’re sayin’ hello to,” The camera shifts to the newborn, Didi looking tired but pleased, cradling him to her chest. “Lil’ Martin. And Didi. Radiant as always.”

“Of course!” She chimes in happily.

“Of course-- and we’re gonna say a very formal hello to Martin ‘cause that’s what nice folk do apparently. I wanna go first!” There’s more shuffling of the phone as he sits himself down on the hospital bed besides Didi, making her scoot over a little with a giggle. Now with all three in the picture, Lázaro settles and starts the formalities. “Okay, so, I’m Lázaro Vega, your father, uh, I run a flower shop that, you know, maybe, you’ll take over when you’re bigger but it’s okay if you don’t. And, uh, well as you can see I’m devilishly handsome so you have that to look forward to--”

“I’m your mother,” Didi interrupts. “Didi Despereaux-Vega. And I’m currently a sous chef at a great restaurant and will eventually be head chef once everyone recognizes my unlimited potential, hm.” Didi confidently nods to the camera. “And we’re very, very happy that you are in our lives. And we are so very excited that we get to be the lucky people that get to raise you.”

“And we love you lots.”

“--Oh, yes, of course, we love you to bits and you’re....you’re not even a day old. Can you imagine that, hm?”

“When should we show him this? Like, as soon as he can start rememberin’ stuff? Or like, way, way in the future?” Lázaro murmurs.

“Hm...how about every year on his birthday? What do you think Martin? Birthday, hm?” Martin just wriggles and hums a bit at such questioning. “I think that’s an agreement.”

“So, we’re gonna show it to him every year, okay?”

“Yes, and tell him-- tell him that we love him more and more, right?”

“We’re really gonna be embarrassin’ the hell out of this kid every year, ain’t we? I’m sorry Martin, we’re sappy folk and you just gotta deal with it--”

[mimicofmodes]

Sanditon, episode 4 part i

I was thinking a bit earlier this morning about Sanditon continuations ... the only other one I’ve consumed is the 1975 one by “another lady”, and while I don’t remember many details, it struck me as very much in the Georgette Heyer vein. At the time, Heyer’s characterization/plot tendencies were the predominant way of interpreting the Regency, so it was normal to have, for instance, the climax of the story be an attempted, kind of silly abduction of the heroine which she foils through being sensible and the abductor coincidentally taking her by her home. Now the predominant way of interpreting the early nineteenth century stress depictions of “realistic” dirt, the rules of society being highly flexible, and (admirably) recognizing that the world didn’t consist solely of white upper-middle-class English people - so a mainstream continuation of our time looks very different from both how Austen would have written the story and how an author of the 1970s would do it.

Also, I may have been comparing some of the earlier parts of the show with the 1975 continuation? D: I thought the original fragment ended a few chapters later than it actually does. Very bad me. I will have to go back and edit out some of the mean things I said about changes that were actually just original work. (Original work that didn’t convince me! But not weird changes. Actually, it appears that the scene where Sidney tells Charlotte off for criticizing his family is more likely a deliberate response to the continuation, quite interesting.) Sorry about that.

Anyway, on with the plot.

Arthur and Diana are headed off to Dr. Fuchs for their daily (!) appointment, looking very Regency. Charlotte, on the other hand, is wearing a more 1820s pelisse - the full sleeves, the broad collar, the lowered waistline - in a very Georgiana-ish bright pink. She picks up her post, just ahead of Georgiana’s maid in line. Georgiana has received a response from her secret lover! 

The letter Charlotte received from home looks like it’s written with the paper having been filled up, turned 90 degrees, and written on some more - an actual period practice, if you were wondering.

Ah, the jumper dress style. It goes through periods of popularity in Regency films and costuming. This is, IMO, an example that does it right - the habit shirt underneath doesn’t look like a modern top, and the gown itself just looks right. Mr. and Mrs. Parker rib her a bit about only just coming to like Sidney, and when Tom says that he’s “altogether habit-forming” on greater acquaintance, Charlotte has a consternated look on her face that spells foreshadowing.

Clara’s pelisse-ish dress looks a bit 1820s to me, but Lady Denham’s gown is sheer 1750s-1760s, with the robings and bows down the front, taking the “older lady wears older styles” meme way too far. Lady Denham is working at her job of trying to marry off the Denhams well, which bothers Clara. Lady Denham then goes on to say that Clara’s prospects are pretty bad, which is true, but ... you have it entirely in your power to do something about that? So they’re not “beyond repair”. She also has no more sympathy left for Clara’s horrible burn. :(

Clara visits the Stringer home, which she says reminds her of her own, reminding me of the ambiguity/confusion in the beginning of the series - is this politeness or really a signal that she’s not really part of the gentry? Her blue spencer is lovely, but the gown underneath has an extremely full skirt - more like something from the 1790s, at least 20 years out of date.

While much of the dwelling seems accurate to me, this huge leather armchair is very much a modernism. Upholstered armchairs, and upholstery in general, were signs of wealth. It looks like a worn-out Laz-E Boy recliner, especially with the china mug resting on the arm.

He’s so sweet! Look at his face! Charlotte takes a look at his architectural plans, which his father disapproves of since he’s just a working-class foreman. She likes them and supports his desire to improve his situation. It’s awkward, though, and she leaves. Beautiful Stringer looks longingly after her from the door.

Charlotte is taken to Georgiana, also in a lovely jumper-style dress (technically, this may have been called a “Russian gown”, but I think we don’t have enough evidence about that) in a very G bright sky blue, who has a plan for them to hang out together - a picnic! Mrs. Griffiths doesn’t approve because for some reason she considers them declassé (they weren’t), but Georgiana pretends that the Parkers will be there as well, which soothes her and worries Charlotte.

A very excellent, if dowdy, gown on Mrs. Griffiths. I feel like I’ve seen it in another production, but not sure which. Any thoughts?

Over at Denham House, Esther is also in a jumper dress! Hers is also in a signature color, dark red/purple, and it’s worn only over her corset (which honestly looks chilly).

Sir Edward’s deshabille takes the form of a silk banyan/dressing gown in a similar shade. He’s settling in to read Babington’s letter to Esther, so it makes sense to visually link them. She distracts him by asking him to lace her corset tighter, and he kisses her neck after doing so, which Clara sees when she comes by with a letter from Lady Denham. Esther realizes that Clara was there, while Sir Edward dismisses the noise as one of their own servants. (So their servants are aware of their incestry? And they haven’t spread it all over town? Okay.)

Please note the accurate spiral lacing for the corset! Esther also interests me further by seeming to have partly turned the conversation from Babington and her face away from her brother because she’s not completely, entirely, 100% certain that she’s so uninterested in the former.

Georgiana takes Charlotte to a little architectural folly deep in the woods, where she runs into the arms of a handsome man. Charlotte gets this really disgusted/upset look on her face that Charlotte you look like a racist stop stop is way out of proportion to what’s happening, given the overall tone of this show toward proper early-19th-century behavior. Even after Georgiana introduces Mr. Otis Molyneux, Charlotte is extremely concerned about him in such a way that it definitely seems like she finds black men especially threatening, even when you take into account Sidney’s asking her to watch over his ward.

They’re so cute!

Georgiana explains that Sidney is keeping them apart, which makes Charlotte pensive. Otis suggests she leave the two of them but Charlotte refuses to let them be unchaperoned, and G is pissed when she finds out that she’s been set to spy on her.

Dr. Fuchs finally gives the Parkers the bad news that they aren’t sick, telling Diana that she has hysteria and Arthur that he needs to lose some weight. Um, writers? You know that “hysteria” as a proposed condition was a meaningless and often dismissive label for various physical and mental symptoms? It’s the kind of thing one can take in a production where characters are actually of-their-time, but when you show an individual as previously being modern-minded it’s a deeply strange inclusion (as with Charlotte above). Fuchs also suggests that they ride on the beach to help, which seems like would have very little effect on Arthur’s not-actually-corpulent physique or Diana’s “hysteria”.

Charlotte gooseberries it up in a field of bluebells. She’s trying to be a hard-nosed chaperone, but it’s clear that the two love each other, and when they tell the story of how they met - Otis mistook Georgiana for a servant at a ball, which doesn’t make a lot of sense given the difference between ball dress and a maid’s outfit, but whatever - they’re so sweet that she visibly thaws. Their story is also an obvious parallel for Charlotte and Sidney: “I found him to be rude and sanctimonious.” “I found her to be spoilt and petulant”. I know C/S is going to be endgame but I don’t have to like it. Charlotte tries to defend Sidney, but they say that he doesn’t have her best interests at heart. She’s not sure who to believe.

Stringer goes to show Tom the plans he stayed up late to draw, only to be told that they won’t be needed after all. He’s devastated - proving his ability to be an architect was going to be the means of making his career. And Tom doesn’t even appear to understand that he might have put Stringer to a lot of trouble even apart from his ambitions. He also fails to follow through on the promised additional workers needed to keep the pace he demands. Tom!!

The Denhams turn up, each making a strong contrast with the Parker they’re next to in terms of color. When you think about it, these are the only two pairs of siblings on the show that are always shown as pairs. Esther’s spencer is a bit 1820s, but her hat is ... 1940s? Sir Edward is confident that Clara will be sent off very soon to leave them as their aunt’s sole heirs.

Just after we see Tom Parker going into a shop to buy an expensive necklace for his wife, Stringer goes home and burns his architectural plans. :( 

Charlotte is still trying to be an annoying chaperone, but she’s on much friendlier terms. As Otis suggests they borrow a boat and go for a little sail, he and Georgiana’s relative undress compared to Charlotte (Georgiana taking her spencer off outside isn’t too big of a deal, but Otis losing his coat and waistcoat and opening up his shirt is ... a lot of stripping for the 1810s) parallels their willingness to shed the rules. It’s not like Sidney’s going to find them as he’s in London, Georgiana points out ... but then we cut to Sidney riding into Sanditon, and talking to Mrs. Parker about how he’s going to go visit Georgiana. So it’s clear what’s going to happen.

Otis sings a lovely rendition of “The Water is Wide” and then proposes to Georgiana. Wait, what?! They’re not already engaged? Dear writers’ room, have you ever read or at least watched Sense and Sensibility? And when she refuses him, it’s because she can’t get married yet without her guardian’s consent, but she could surely accept him and just wait on getting married ... ? Anyway, he throws himself into the water as he said he would and they all laugh again.

[everythingandeveryplace]

I got these gifs off of We Heart It, please let me know if they belong to you!

Finding Family Part 2

•Daryl Dixon x OFC•

Everyone had been set up in guest rooms for their overnight stay at Georgetown  and after an incredibly tense meeting the future of trade between Alexandria and the prospering community still remained undecided.

"They're gonna say no. Not a chance in hell we're getting even a taste of this shit." Abraham sighed, his head resting against the LaZ boy recliner  in Ricks room for the night.

"We don't know that." Michonne argued.

"Sure we do, y'all saw the way they looked at the girl. I hurt their people bad, no way any of us are gonna be welcomed here after today." Merle chuckled dryly, he was trying to hide the guilt and disappointment he felt in himself and had Daryl not known him his entire life he might have mistaken it for carelessness.

"We should have left him at home. What good ever comes from bringing Merle Dixon anywhere?" Glenn grumbled and Maggie pat his thigh comfortingly.

"Michonnes right, We don't know yet. these people are very reasonable, I've spoken to them, they know me and besides Lily would never leave us out to dry. She isn't like that." Rick nodded firmly.

"That was before we turned our backs on her and let Merle stay after everything that happened. We betrayed that girl, if I was her I wouldn't give us a damn thing." Carol was perched on the edge of the bed, her eyes sad and slightly angry as she regarded Merle. The older woman's gaze wandered over to Daryl for just a split second and the underlying disappointment in the clear blue made his stomach hurt, he stood up and grabbed his crossbow from the floor.

"Goin for a walk." He grumbled, Merle stood to follow but Daryl was quick to turn to him and shake his head "alone." He bit out.

The halls of the community center at Georgetown we're huge, over 20 rooms on each floor. Charlie had explained that the community center was where most of the residents who didn't have family lived, they were single rooms and it provided a sense of family in one large building for the residents who preferred not to be alone in their own home. It also was the same building as the mess hall, and that's exactly where he heard the familiar voice he had missed and replayed over and over on his head for two full years.

"Thanks Nellie, you're our new best friend forever. We will remember this moment for when grey carries on my iconic legacy. you will have a special page in my autobiography." Lili backed out of the kitchen, the beautiful baby boy wrapped up in her arms and a pint of vanilla ice cream in his.

"It's just because I love you both." A grey haired  woman in an apron shooed them out of the kitchen and winked, blowing a kiss at the curly haired little boy waving back at her.

"And we love you." Lili turned back towards the cafeteria and the smile she had been wearing slipped from her features when her eyes met Daryl's.

God it hurt.

Swallowing thickly he willed his feet to march over to the two, awkwardly rubbing his neck when he was close enough.

"I was just checking the place out. S'nice." He mumbled, eyes involuntarily falling on the little boy with the the sandy blonde curls staring up at him.

"Yeah. We have a really great system going here. Good people too." Greyson wiggled in her arms and Lili looked down "words." She smiled softly, urging him to speak gently.

"Down." He whispered "pease." His smile was wide and goofy and so damn adorable it almost physically hurt Daryl.

Lili beamed with pride

"You got it love." She gently placed him on the floor and peeled the top of the container off, sticking a metal spoon in the sweet vanilla ice cream and ruffling his hair.

Daryl watched in wonder as Greyson lifted himself onto a cafeteria bench and began taking tiny but determined bites of the sugary dessert.

"He's a smart kid. Little to be doin' all that aint' he?"

Daryl turned his attention back to Lili who was smiling in complete adoration at the boy with the matching eyes.

"Grey is very advanced, we have a former pediatrician who works in our infirmary and she says she's never seen someone his age  grasp language skills quite as fast as Greyson." She finally pulled her eyes away from her son and looked at Daryl, he could practically see the pride in her smile.

"Gets it from you. Ya always we're good at talkin'"

For a moment when her blue eyes sparkle and her nose scrunches up, Daryl's taken back to five years ago stranded in that damn lake with an arrow through his side and a pretty blonde woman dragging him through the mud and asking "where in the holy hot hell" did he come from.

"That's about all he gets from me except the hair, I carried him around for nine months only for him to come out a splitting image of his father." She laughed quietly.

"Got my nose.. and my mamas eyes." Daryl whispered as they both stared at Greyson.

"And your lips. Not to mention he catches the Georgia sun like you wouldn't believe, five minutes outside and he's golden brown, just like you." She smiled.

"Got your hankerin' for the sweets though." Daryl offered chuckling when Greyson sent a spoonful of vanilla halfway across the room.

"And your tendency to leave a mess." Lili raised a brow and pulled a rag from her pocket, wiping the melted ice cream off of her sons cheeks.

"Beautiful though. Real beautiful." He whispered, his palms itched to touch his son, to see if he was real, if this was something that he had helped to create. There was no way any Dixon could ever make something so beautiful and perfect.

"Still carrying' around that crossbow huh?" Lili nodded towards his practically third arm.

"Sure am. Never gettin' rid of her." He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked.

"Don't I know it." The beautiful blonde smiled fondly at the weapon that had saved her life more times than she could count "I'm still sticking to my knives, although I don't get out much to use em. I stay inside the walls mainly, take care of the sick and injured."

"Sounds nice, ya were meant for that. Made to help people." Daryl clarified, tracing her features with his eyes, memorizing every new scar and freckle, every laugh line, the last time he had seen her she had been bruised and swollen beyond recognition. The image of Dwight carrying her near lifeless body out of the saviors compound was forever burned in his mind.

"Sometimes I miss it out there, the adrenaline, the chase." Lili sighed before shaking her head and smiling at her son "but I can't take risks like that anymore, not unless I have too. Grey needs his mom. last week I went on a run because we needed specific medications and I left him with Dwight for two days, I came back covered in walker blood and Greyson just threw himself at me. I had to give him two baths just to get all that funk out of his hair." She giggled, scrunching her nose at the memory.

"He's a good boy." Daryl caught her sea green eyes and stared longingly at the woman he loved more than anything in this world.

"The best." She nodded, a sadness filtering across her face.

"Miss you every damn day." Daryl whispered, the words heart breakingly honest.

"You made a choice." Lili whispered back, wrapping her arms around her body tight, shielding herself from the one person who could ever truly hurt her.

"It was the wrong choice, I know that now," his voice broke, shadowed eyes dark and lost.

"It's too late now. You can't take it back.. you made your choice, you chose him."

"He's my brother." Daryl begged, he needed her to understand, no matter how impossible it was and how wrong it was he wanted her to understand.

"He's a monster." Lilis eyes filled with tears that she desperately tried to blink back "the things he did to me.. I can't.. when he was strangling me.. breaking my ribs all I could think about was getting back to you. I thought I was going to die and I didn't want to do that to you, I wanted to live for you. And then I came back to you, I fought for you only for you to allow that man back in our home, to sleep on the same floor as I did, to eat where I ate."

If it was possible Daryl could feel his heart cracking in his chest, the pain almost unbearable.

"I loved you with everything I had and I fought for you, I would have done anything for you and you gave up on me. You traded me in for your brother." She whispered, her voice far away.

"He's my family Lili." It sounded pathetic even to his own ears.

"And he's mine." Lili raised her voice, throwing her hand out to the little boy who was now curiously listening to the conversation and smiling up at the two adults as they turned to look at him.

"He's mine too." Daryl tried.

The woman before him narrowed her eyes and shook her head

"No.. no he isn't. You gave that claim up the second you let me walk out the doors of Alexandria. You made a decision, I told you when I left that there was no coming back from it and I meant that. Merle is your family. Greyson is mine."

"Lil please, I have too..."

"You're all going to be able to trade here, I told Charlie that you were all good people, that the past was the past and it had nothing to do with helping your people. You'll get what you need and then you can go, I don't want you bringing that man back to my home. By the time I put Greyson to sleep tomorrow I want to forget you both were ever here." With that Lili picked up Greyson and walked straight out of the mess hall doors leaving a broken hearted Daryl Dixon staring after the love of his life and their son.

It couldn't end like this.

He wouldn't let it.

[astronanda]

Bridges to Pax: Chapter One

Eugene Foster had Always thought he was a regular teenager, spite his schizophrenia. When he almost dies in an alleyway, attacked by a monster who definitely shouldn't exist, his life is put into perspective, and he finds out that he belongs to a family with a history of Pontum - people who connect the magical and the human worlds, the so-called "Bridges" - and now he must continue this family tradition. With the mysterious death of his uncle and the threat of a traitor looming over him, he doesn't know if he will be able to hold on. 

(ALSO ON TAPAS)

Eugene walked from one side to the other, diverting from plants here and there. The sunlight entered through the yellow stained glass, painting the greenhouse even more as if the colour of the plants and lowers still wasn't enough.

Lazuli still hadn't arrived, but lateness wasn't something rare for the Dracae. Eugene's nervousness wasn't linked to the training that would start as soon as Lazuli arrived. No, he was desperately anxious because of the piece of paper under the daisies near the door. The letter of a dead man.

The circumstances weren't great for Eugene, who had discovered his place in the universe two months ago when he as attacked by a monster in an alleyway, something that definitely shouldn't have happened. When he found out his schizophrenia wasn't real and that the world was more than it seemed. When his best friend had confessed to being a mere bodyguard and that he did not want to be in the place he occupied for seven years. When Eugene saw himself, for the first time, alone.

"Alone". There were people around him. Well, not actually people, but he wasn't in a position to complain. He asked himself if he could call them all friends, especially after receiving a desperate letter from his deceased uncle, the man who occupied his place before he passed away. Words written hastily in a notebook page asked him to not trust anyone.

The door opened, causing Eugene to stop his walk. He breathed in deeply, furrowing his brows and trying not to demonstrate his mistrust when he turned around and faced Lazuli's milky white eyes.

"Laz!" He smiled, putting his hands in his sweatshirt's pocket.

"Why are you nervous?" The Dracae asked, frowning.

"I'm not nervous." He said, staring at the ground. He let out a sigh. "It's just... a bad day, that's all."

It wasn't a lie. That had been an awful day, mainly because of the letter hidden in the greenhouse. He bit his lips, gazing at the daisies that now seemed strangely suspicious. Lazuli did not seem to notice the guilty yellow flowers, because when their eyes deviated from where Eugene looked, their face remained without expression.

(Probably not that positive, since Lazuli rarely had a facial expression)

Lazuli was the person responsible for supervising Eugene's training, physically, mentally and spiritually. Apparently, all of that was necessary for the magical people that inhabited that world to consider him a Pontum. Couldn't they be happy with a teenager risking his life? No, they wanted him to go through a boring hell known as school. Of course, it was a special school, but was it really that different? If Eugene had to be inside of a room while having classes, he decided that no, it wasn't.

Back to what we were talking about, Eugene did not know that much about Lazuli. They were the rarest kind of Dracae, they seemed to not feel any kind of emotion and had the bad habit of drip sarcasm whenever they met the Raziel brothers, which led them to a passive-aggressive that was as interesting as it was stressing. There was also that annoying habit of overestimating Eugene's abilities whenever they were in front of others as if it was a competition over who had the most powerful Pontum.

Eugene felt like a woman, being objectified like that.

"Today I'll take you to the armoury." They said, awaking Eugene from his thoughts.

"Bless you." He said, frowning. "Is that some kind of lost city, food or...?"

"Arsenal." They said, turning to the door. During the to months of training, Lazuli had got used to translate their exotic terms for Eugene, who had no kind of linguistic knowledge. He was just a painter, Dallon was the poet.

His heart ached as he remembered that name, that insisted in coming to his mind together with blue eyes and dark hair, with the rare smile that seemed to be able to end all of the world's wars. Eugene ran a hand through his blond hair, letting out a sigh, not even noticing the daises as he left the greenhouse, closing the door behind him.

He knew Dallon Jean Miguel Souto when he was nine, on the school's playground. It wasn't a very gracious moment for Eugene, who was bawling his eyes out because of a bruised knee. The other calmed him down and took him to the nurse's office. Eugene had always been an anxious child, and if Dallon hadn't taken him there, he would never have had the courage to do so.

The two became friends quickly. Dallon was a year older than Eugene, and they didn't share classes, but they always met each other during recess and played together. Dallon seemed to like pretending that he was an astronaut, and Eugene soon got used to playing the role of the alien. Well, aliens were cool, anyway.

Dallon was Eugene's first and best friend, and finding out their friendship grew because of an obligation of Dallon was absurd, and broke his heart. So many moments shared together now seemed implanted memories by a cruel magical society.

He followed Lazuli through the Pontum Sanctum's hallways without really paying attention to where he was. That place was huge, and if the two ended up in a door Eugene didn't recognize - Eugene, who kind of lived there now, considering how much time he spent there - he wouldn't be surprised.

He wasn't that excited to explore the place, not ever since he learned to do portals. He used to spend his time in the greenhouse, taking care of the plants or reading books Lazuli gave him, occupying moments that would be haunted by obscure thoughts if his imagination had too much freedom. As they say, an empty mind is devil's workshop.

Eugene sighed once again, something he did a lot, lately. He stared at the Dracae's back, covered by indigo fabric, adorned by golden details. The fashion there was certainly different from the human's, but it was interesting in its own way. Eugene noticed each one of the main five people that lived there had their own style. He didn't really know much about, you know, normal Dracae, civilians, but their style seemed... uh, ninja style.

The Dracae he knew weren't normal, by any means. They were killing machines that would give him nightmares if they weren't in the same team., Godric, his history and politics teacher was a skilled militarian trained to kill silently. Narcissa, the one responsible for his medical training, was the type of person to heal you and take care of your wounds just so that she could beat you up again. Dante was a mysterious guy, with biceps the size of Eugene's head, and if that wasn't' scary... Eugene did not know what "scary" was.

"Why are we going to the Arm... The arsenal?" He asked. "Are you going to give me a weapon?"

"People don't get weapons, Eugene, they deserve them."

"Ok... Do I deserve one?" He inquired. The Dracae stopped abruptly, causing Eugene to hit their back. He wondered if it hadn't been something he said, but Laz's hoarse voice calmed him.

"We'll find out later." They said, putting their hands in a steel door that seemed to not have a keyhole or a handle. Quite annoying, if you ask Eugene.

A blue light shone from Lazuli's fingertips, spreading through the metal just like heat. Magic was a weird sensation, to Eugene. Maybe it was for the fact that he literally learned some tricks a couple of weeks before, after a conversation in another plane of existence with his deceased grandpa. She knew her stuff.

It was a hot sensation, for Eugene. Heat running through his veins. When he used magic, he seemed to feel every and each cell of his body, which was quite uncomfortable. He was getting used to it, little by little.

"The armoury is a shared space. Other Representants or Pontum may be here." Lazuli said. Whenever there was a chance he could end up meeting Dallon, the Dracae made sure he would know it. He was grateful, but he also worried every time the Dracae said so, and wouldn't be able to concentrate on whatever they were doing.

The arsenal was huge. Different types of weapons hanged from the walls, from the ground to the ceiling, that seemed exaggeratedly far away. How did they take the weapons from the top? Maybe there were faeries there, that flew high up to bring them axes and lances? Weren't dwarves who made weapons? Maybe they kept them in the arsenal, too?

The place seemed to organize its weapons by type. There were different kinds of axes, with various sizes and weights grouped together; there were lances, bows and arrows, scythes, swords, rapiers, hammers, whips and etc.

So many questions popped up in Eugene's mind, he didn't notice that Lazuli had already abandoned him and was flipping through the yellowed pages of a gigantic book.

"You shouldn't stand in the middle of the way, noob." A feminine voice said. 

Surprised, he turned quickly to see who was behind him, but he lost his balance easily.

His body didn't hit the ground, though. A firm hand held him from his green shirt.

Two people stared at him, one of them still holding him. Eugene knew them from a reunion a couple of weeks before. Leilani, the Mage Pontum and Aeris, the Kitsune Pontum.

Leilani let him go, smiling at him. She was the youngest of all the Pontum, being just fifteen, but she had more muscles than Eugene, who was seventeen. He scratched the back of his head, smiling shyly to her, who laughed.

"Are you always like that, noob?" She asked. "You don't need to get all shy, we don't bite!"

Aeris laughed too. "How are you, Eugene?" She asked.

"I'm fine!" He said, a little too loud, trying to look anywhere but them. "Uh... Why are you here? Not that you shouldn't be, you are Pontum, after all. It's normal for you to be in places like this, uh..."

Aeris put her hands on his shoulders, smiling gently. "Breathe, Eugene." She said, trying to calm him down. He did as he was told, as Leilani answered his question:

"We came here to train." She said. "It is hard for us to go against each other, because of time zones and shit."

"Yes," Aeris said "honestly, I was getting tired of training against Dallon. You know how it is, right, Leilani?"

"Oh, yeah!" The younger one laughed, and Eugene just couldn't face them. "Always the same tricks and attacks."

"I think he just lets us win. Have you seen him fighting for real?" Aeris laughed.

Leilani nodded. "It sucks." She said, turning to Eugene. "Do you fight with him for real or he also things you are too fragile to face his manly strength?"

"We don't fight." He said, shrinking. "Actually, the last time I saw him was in that reunion, a couple of weeks ago."

Leilani and Aeris frowned. "Well, but... didn't you go to the same school?" Leilani asked.

Eugene shook his head. "He went back to Colombia." He said, avoiding Leilani's questioning dark eyes. "We don't talk anymore. He doesn't want to have anything to do with me."

Aeris opened her mouth, but Lazuli's distant voice interrupted their conversation.

"Eugene, come here." They said, and Eugene complied.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Trying to find some kind of weapon you can train with." They said, crossing their arms. The two girls approached them, curiously.

"Eugene looks like a swordsman" Leilani said. "What about a rapier?"

"Eugene is not confident enough to be a swordsman." Lazuli said. "Besides, he doesn't have the strength."

"I'm not even here." He mumbled.

"An arrow, then?" Aeris suggested. "It's good for building strength."

Lazuli flipped through the pages.

"It is possible. He needs to be useful, somehow."

Eugene frowned, trying to ignore that last part. It seemed that Lazuli had no sense of how to talk to people. He sighed.

"What kind of arms do you have?" He turned to the two girls.

Leilani grinned, her eyes glimmering. "I have an axe." She said. "Do ya wanna see it?"

Eugene nodded with enthusiasm. Leilani got up on some kind of arena in the middle of the arsenal, raising her hands up.

Her eyes were filled by a white light, the same that flickered around her fingers as if they were electricity waves. It didn't take long for a huge battle axe to occupy one of her hands, at the same time a loud bang filled the room, just like thunder.

Leilani smiled wide, and Eugene felt the urge to ask: "Does that happen every time you, like.... summon your weapon?"

"Let's just say Leilani likes drama." Aeris laughed. 

"Can I see yours too?" Eugene turned to her, and the woman nodded. She went to where Leilani stood and closed her eyes in concentration. With a quick flick of her wrists, two whips appeared in her hands. 

"They turn into swords." She mentioned. True to her word, with another flick the whips got hard and stood in a straight form, turning into two blades. 

"Can I get a cool weapon like that?" Eugene turned to Lazuli, who merely sighed:

"Those are short-range weapons. Maybe one day."

The smile vanished from Eugene's face, who felt like a kid who just asked something absurd to their parents. 

"Even when you get the weapon you want, Eugene, don't give up on the bow and arrow. Archers are super cool and it can save many lives. Ok?"

"Ok." He nodded, a bit disappointed but definitely hopeful with the promise.

Eugene felt pain in muscles he barely knew that existed. The boy practically dragged himself back to the greenhouse, his legs numb and screaming from the agony simultaneously, a distasteful paradox Eugene wanted to ignore, but couldn't.

He threw himself in the only chair available, resting his head on the table full of books in front of him, his sweaty back pressed against the wood of the seat.

Leilani and Aeris did not stay for long. They said it was better to leave Laz and Eugene alone, so they could work out and train shooting with the bow and arrow.

The Dracae was not, in any way, gentle with him. Laz first taught him how to stand up - something he never knew he did wrong -, the correct posture and how to shoot an arrow - all of that without a proper bow.

In the end, they gave him a green and metallic bow so he could practice and build up strength before actually getting his weapon.

The bow was indeed pretty, with blue runes colouring the green metal. Still, Eugene thought that was the last exciting weapon ever.

"Really? I don't really like rapiers, I think they're the worst." Lazuli had said.

He raised his head, taking a look at the daisies near the door. He thought that being part of a magical society was stressing enough, but apparently, he still had to deal with his uncle's mystery on top of it all.

He massaged his temples, feeling the anxiety looming in his mind. He had no psychological strength to deal with it all.

His cellphone vibrated on the table, calling for his attention. The notification that lit up the screen told him he had been added to a new group.

Pontum Chat, that was the name. He was greeted by numerous messages of Leilani and Aeris as he opened the app.

He smiled to himself. Those two were good people. He was worried the other Pontum would be cold, perhaps hostile, but he had been lucky.

There were other Pontum besides Leilani and Aeris. There was Tristan, a mysterious and quiet guy, who prefered to avoid attention to himself. Eugene understood the feeling. Tristan was the Werewolves' Pontum, and every time Eugene saw him, he was accompanied by the race's Representant, Nikolai Volkov.

Eugene had never talked to the man, but he felt like he knew him a little. Lazuli did not hold anything back when talking about their coworkers. The Dracae had said that everyone was a close, good friend of theirs. But not Arkiel. Arkiel could choke.

Arkiel was the unsympathetic Representant of the Ghouls, creatures that fed themselves with dead magical meat. That being said, they're not the most beloved guys around, but they have a stable government and a good source of food, so no one bothers with them.

A new message arrived. Tristan welcomed him, which brought a smile to Eugene's lips. At least he wouldn't have any trouble with his colleagues. Honestly, he wasn't mature enough to deal with intrapersonal problems on top of the new job and the death of his uncle Henry. The enigma of the letter was eating at him.

He sighed, rubbing his face. It was getting late and he needed to go back home.

He quickly got up and walked to the door with large steps, getting the letter from below the daisies rapidly and hiding it into his pants.

Even far from him, Dallon could still cause him headaches. If he could, Eugene would go back in time and refuse the fucking message, would tell his friend to go fuck off and ignore him for the rest of his life.

Goddamn it.

[amelielatremoille-blog]

Task 5!

Basic Character Questions

First name? Amelie

Surname? La Tremoille

Middle names? Violetta

Nicknames? Ames, Ame, she doesn’t have many.

Date of birth? February 10th

Age? 25

Physical / Appearance

Height? 5′3″

Weight? 125 pounds

Build? Small,

Hair color? Blonde

Hair style? Down, curled, straightened, ponytail, braided

Eye color? Green

Eye Shape? Upturned

Glasses or contact lenses? Neither

Distinguishing facial features? She has a mole on the left side of her face, underneath her lip and when she smiles, the right side of her lips quirk up a bit more.

Which facial feature is most prominent? Her eyes.

Which bodily feature is most prominent? Depends on who you're talking to, she’d say her breasts.

Other distinguishing features? Not that she knows of.

Skin? Soft, Ivory, marks easily

Hands? Soft, small, dainty.

Make up? Back home, she’d always have makeup on. Whether it was a tinted moisturizer of a full face.

Scars? One on her shoulder from when she was younger

Birthmarks? Yes

Tattoos? A rose on her right forearm, an arrow on her left forearm, and a cross on her finger, 

Physical handicaps? none

Type of clothes? She stays more towards the current street style

How do they wear their clothes? She likes to re-purpose, so if you see her cutting up a shirt, that’s why

What are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc) She’s always getting new shoes, so you never see her wearing shoes that are terribly dirty. She keeps her feet clean.

Race / Ethnicity? French, Caucasian.

Mannerisms? When she’s bored she tends to start to hum or sing, and she can

Are they in good health? Very.. at least in her opinion.

Do they have any disabilities? Nope.

Personality

What words or phrases do they overuse? “Oh mon dieu!”

Do they have a catchphrase? Nope.

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic? Optimistic/

Are they introverted or extroverted. Extroverted

Do they ever put on airs? No.

What bad habits do they have? Her drinking habits have gotten.. out of hand.

What makes them laugh out loud? Anything. Literally, anything.

How do they display affection? She gets very touchy.

Mental handicaps? None.

How do they want to be seen by others? She wants to be seen as someone who is caring, yet knows how to exert herself in demanding situations.

How do they see themselves? A fragile girl who has gone through too much.

How are they seen by others? She doesn’t know, and she’d rather not know.

Strongest character trait? She’s very trustworthy.

Weakest character trait? She’s very impatient.

How competitive are they? Very, challenge her to a game of anything, and she will try her hardest to win.

Do they make snap judgements or take time to consider? Snap judgements.

How do they react to praise? She loves it.

How do they react to criticism? She takes it with a grain of salt.

What is their greatest fear? Losing her family.

What are their biggest secrets? Her times with Clay.

What is their philosophy of life? She doesn't believe in life philosophies.

When was the last time they cried? When she found out Mathieu was on the island.

What haunts them? The fact that she left her parents on a bad note. Now she doesn’t know if they’ll even take her back.

What are their political views? She doesn’t have any political party she supports.

What will they stand up for? She’ll stand up for anything she believes to be true/right, even if she is wrong.

Who do they quote? She doesn’t tend to quote people.

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy? Both.

What is their sinful little habit? PDA. Even though people hate it, she loves it.

What sense do they most rely on? Her hearing.

How do they treat people better than them? She treats them how she treats everyone else, with respect.

How do they treat people worse than them? She can be a bit condescending, but if she finds out why they’re the way they are, she tries her hardest to help them.

What quality do they most value in a friend? Trust.

What do they consider an overrated virtue? Patience and intelligence.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be? Her attitude.

What is their obsession? Television.

What are their pet peeves? When someone doesn’t know how to take care of themselves and doesn’t know basic hygiene.

What are their idiosyncrasies? She quirks/furrows her eyebrows a lot, and tends to run her hands through her hair quite a bit.

Friends and Family

Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of? Her family is relatively quaint, consisting of her parents, and her three siblings.

What is their perception of family? They should be someone who never stop loving you, ever stops supporting you, never stops believing in you no matter what.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? She does have siblings, two older sisters and one older brother.

Describe their best friend. Understanding, trustworthy.

Ideal best friend? Someone she could tell anything to, someone she could go to if she’s having a bad day... basically someone to be her substitute sibling.

Describe their other friends. She doesn’t have many friends.

Describe their acquaintances. Most of the royals.

Do they have any pets? Yes, she has a black lab she got a few days before getting brought to the island.

Who are their natural allies? She has many natural allies.

Who are their surprising allies? She doesn’t have any surprising allies.

Past and Future

What was your character like as a baby? As a child? As a baby and a child, her parents spoiled her like no other- thats where her bratty attitude comes from.

Did they grow up rich or poor? Rich

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected? She was nurtured up until her late teens. The more rebellious she got, the less her parent’s started to care.

What is the most offensive thing they ever said? She told her mom that she wished she ( her mom ) was infertile and never had her ( amelie )

What is their greatest achievement? Finally getting her mothers approval.

What was their first kiss like? How awkward can a kiss between two twelve year olds be? Oh, super awkward.

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved? Told them to leave her alone and that she never want’s to see their face again.

What are their ambitions? Finish law school.

What advice would they give their younger self? To listen to her mom.

What smells remind them of their childhood? Fresh rain mixed with the smell of orchids.

What was their childhood ambition? To be a doctor.

What is their best childhood memory? When she went to her first peace meeting and learned what being a royal was truly about.

What is their worst childhood memory? When her mom and dad left in the middle of a night for an emergency meeting, she was scared shitless.

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend? No.

When was the last time they were crushed with disappointment? When she realized that there was a slight chance that she may never get to see her parents again.

What past act are they most ashamed of? When she stopped looking for him. She never should’ve stopped looking.

What past act are they most proud of?

Has anyone ever saved their life? Plenty of times. She has a habit of putting herself in danger.

Strongest childhood memory? When she and her brother had their first bad fight, she was ten, he was fourteen.

Love

Do they believe in love at first sight? Yes, it’s how her parents met.

Are they in a relationship? No.

How do they behave in a relationship? She’s very adoring, and acts like that person is the center of her world. If she falls, she falls hard.

When did you character last have sex? Oh God. I don’t even know... before the island?

What type of sex does your character have? Rough, kinky.

Has your character ever been in love? No, not that she consciously knows of. She tries to distance herself from it.

Have they ever had their heart broken? Yes.

Conflict

How do they respond to a threat? With a worse threat.

Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? Fight with her tongue, she has witty comebacks for days.

What is your character’s kryptonite? Her family. She make act like she hates her mom and dad, but if anything were to happen to them, she’d be heart broken.

If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be? Figuring her siblings were out, she’d get her notebooks.

How do they perceive strangers? She tries not to judge to quickly, but sometimes she preceives ideas way too quickly.

What do they love to hate? All the Marvel villains. (besides Thanos ofc)

What are their phobias? Spiders.

What is their choice of weapon? A knife.

What living person do they most despise? She doesn’t despise anyone.

Have they ever been bullied or teased? Yes.

Where do they go when they’re angry? When she was at the palace, she’d go to the garden, the flowers and aromas would calm her down. Being on the island, she goes to the shoreline and watches the waves.

Who are their enemies and why? She doesn’t necessarily have any enemies. She finds hatred to be to much of a burden.

Work, Education and Hobbies

What is their current job? She doesn’t have one.

What do they think about their current job? N/A

What are some of their past jobs? One time her parents made her work in a fast food restaurant as a work of charity.

What are their hobbies? Writing music, singing, playing piano, tending to her garden, shopping.

Educational background? She stopped going to university half way through her law degree.

Intelligence level? She’s very gifted in lot’s of things- except calculus.

Do they have any specialist training? She had a musician teach her piano for a bit, but she got the hang of it faster than most.

Do they have a natural talent for something? She is very talented at piano- it’s the only ‘talent’ she has... according to her mother.

Do they play a sport? Are they any good? She does not play any sports.

What is their socioeconomic status? She’s always been wealthy.

Favorites

What is their favorite animal? Dogs.

Which animal to they dislike the most? Cats, she finds them to lazy for her liking.

What place would they most like to visit? She would really like to go to America again. Their lifestyles are so different.

What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? The way different countries can come together and put aside their difference when another country has something bad happen to them.

What is their favorite song? Nico and the Niners - Twenty One Pilots

Music, art, reading preferred? Music.

What is their favorite color? Red.

What is their password? ;)

Favorite food: Any type of pasta.

What is their favorite work of art? “A New Beginning” by Alen Vejzovic

Who is their favorite artist? Alisher Kushakov

What is their favorite day of the week? Wednesday.

Possessions

What is in their fridge: A bottle of wine for emergencies, Dr. Pepper, and miscellaneous snacks.

What is on their bedside table? A book, a sketchbook, a notebook, and her phone.

What is in their car? Chap stick, charger cords, portable chargers, and a small bag full of necessities.

What is in their bin? Makeup removing wipes, broken pencils, and scrunched up pieces of paper.

What is in their purse or wallet? A couple of notes, her debit card, license, and a few gift cards of sorts.

What is in their pockets? Chapstick.

What is their most treasured possession? Her piano.

Spirituality

Who or what is your character’s guardian angel? She doesn’t believe she has a guardian angle.

Do they believe in the afterlife? Yes

What are their religious views? She believes there has to be some form of a higher power, but doesn’t know what.

What do they think heaven is? A warm, welcoming place.

What do they think hell is? A indefinite void of emptiness.

Are they superstitious? Sometimes.

What would they like to be reincarnated as? A bird.

How would they like to die? After living out a long, meaningful life.

What is your character’s spirit animal? A wolf.

What is their zodiac sign? Aquarius.

Values

What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? To be taken away from their family and the people they love against their will.

What is their view of ‘freedom’? To be able to do whatever they want, whenever they want.

When did they last lie? Probably the last time she spoke to a pirate.

What’s their view of lying? If it’s needed, its needed.

When did they last make a promise? The other day.

Did they keep or break their last promise? Keep

Daily life

What are their eating habits? She tends to skip breakfast and/or lunch, but dinner is a must.

Do they have any allergies? Nope.

Describe their home. Welcoming, judgmental, warm, playful, light spirited.

Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder? Minimalist.

What do they do first thing on a weekday morning? Go to the kitchen and see what foods are being prepared.

What do they do on a Sunday afternoon? Family outings.

What do they do on a Friday night? Depends who she’s with but normally, she’s at home, watching musicals, and drinking.

What is the soft drink of choice? Dr. Pepper

What is their alcoholic drink of choice? Wine.

Miscellaneous

What is their character archetype? (Innocent, Orphan, Hero, Caregiver, Explorer, Rebel, Lover, Creator, Jester, Sage, Magician, Ruler) Lover

Who is their hero? Her dad.

What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween? She doesn’t really do Halloween.

Are they comfortable with technology? Very.

If they could save one person, who would it be? Her grandmother.

If they could call one person for help, who would it be? Celestine

What is their favorite proverb? “Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.”

What is their greatest extravagance? Travel. She loves to go to different countries, whether it’s for business or not.

What is their greatest regret? Leaving her home on the night she learned her parents had married her off.

What is their perception of redemption? Redemption is necessary, no matter what.

What would they do if they won the lottery? Give the money to charity. She doesn’t need anymore.

What is their favorite fairytale? Rapunzel.

What fairytale do they hate? Snow White.

Do they believe in happy endings? Yes.

What is their idea of perfect happiness? Being able to be yourself, no matter what.

What would they ask a fortune teller? Will she meet the love of her life?

If your character could travel through time, where would they go? 1950′s in America.

What sport do they excel at? She’s not good at sports.

What sport do they suck at? Basically any sport you could imagine.

If they could have a superpower, what would they choose? Whatever powers Doctor Strange has.

[mangled-dreams]

Fever Dreams

My first and maybe only attempt at Dr. Schneeplestein. So here you are. Reader X Dr. Henrik Von Schneeplestein. Enjoy.

It's not often that you get sick, but when you do it's very fun. Not that getting sick is ever fun, but for you it just seems to hit your harder. Now is one of those times you get sick.

You'd been holed up in your room for the past three days, slowly dying of...whatever you've got. Well, you know you're not dying dying, but it sure feels like it. Anti and the other egos have been concerned for you, but you'd told them you'd be okay after few days of rest.

“You ain't getting any better, kid. I'm sending in the Doc.” Anti had told you after the third day of you being ill. He'd come to check on you as the one of the only egos that wouldn't get sick from you.

“Oh, don't do that. Dr. Schneeplestein is always so busy,” You'd responded, whining a little at bothering Dr. Schneeplestein for just a little cold. It doesn't help that you have a crush on Dr. Schneeplestein. You think Anti knows of your crush, but he'd never ratted you out for it.

“To bad, we need you back in working order.” Anti added sternly before leaving you.

A few hours have passed since Anti had visited you, although times seems to be blending into one singular moment. Your roommate and older sister Jessica has been feeding you and makes sure you take your cough syrup, but otherwise she steers clear of you. She hates being around people that are coughing and/or ill. You don't blame her. Ever since she was a kid she couldn't stand the sound of anyone coughing around her.

“Hey, Y/n, you have a visitor.” Jess says opening your door. You barely have the energy to sit up but manage to do it before a familiar face greets you.

“Oh, my goodness, how did zis happen?” Dr. Schneeplestein cries as he enters your area of contamination., as your sister loves to call your room. It's not often that the good doctor has time to come see you, but you're glad he does. Jess says nothing and closes the door to keep your germs isolated to your room.

“Doctor. It's good to see--” You can't finish greeting Dr. Schneeplestein, instead you cough until you can't breath and then some. You double over, your hand covers your mouth with a tissue. When you've done coughing up a lung you toss your tissue into a bin at your bed side and use hand sanitizer.

“Oh, do not zink to talk. My poor dear, you look terribly ill.” Dr. Schneeplestein says sitting down on your bed, his bag propped up on his thighs. You watch him through weary eyes. Dr. Schneeplestein  takes out his stethoscope and places the buds into his ears. He stands up and walks over to your side and motions for you to lean forward. “Now, take two deep breaths for em.” He instructs you, the sound pressed against you back just to the side of your shoulder blade.

You do as he asks to the best of your ability. You hear Dr. Schneeplestein hum behind you and shift the sound head across your back. He doesn't have to instruct you to do anything and automatically breath in as deeply as you can. You remember this from your last doctor's visit.

Leaning back against the wall you let Dr. Schneeplestein listen to your lungs from the front of your chest. A few seconds later he takes the buds out and puts them back into the bag. “Despite your coughing, it seems your lungs are very clear.” He tells you sounding a little relieved.

“Just a cough?” you ask a little winded.

“Yes, zit looks like ze common cold, I would recommend you continue to rest and get loots of fluids.” Dr. Schneeplestein advises.

You nod and lay back again. “Thank you for coming, even though it wasn't necessary. Anti's just a worry wart.” You tell Dr. Schneeplestein even though you know it's not needed.

“Oh please, I vould come even if he did not azk me.” He tells you happily.

“Thank you, again, Dr. Schneeplestein.”

“Henry, please. I vould conzider us friends by now.” Henrik responds quietly.

You nod, agreeing with Henrik before coughing again. Henrik gives you a tissues and you use it cover your mouth. You hate being sick. You especially hate being sick around Dr. Schneeplestein. “Right,” you say breathing heavily. Your nose is stuffed up once again so now you're a mouth breather. “You don't have to... stick around, Henrik.” you say opting to use his actual first name and not the “Americanized” version.

“I vould never juz abandon my patient.” Henrik tells you in earnest. You smile at him but don't respond. You aren't really a patient, just a friend that's ill.

Henrik stays with you for a few hours before leaving for the night. You'd fallen into a tired haze by the time he left. You remember him saying something about his ex-wife. You hate how badly his marriage to Lilith had dissolved so quickly after the ceremony. You know Henrik hasn't been happy for quite sometime despite many attempts to rekindle the relationship.

You fall sleep with the hope that Henrik will find happiness, even if it isn't with you.

“Good morning!” Henrik greets when Jess opens the door. It's been a few days and Jess is actually letting you wonder around the house now that the “contamination period” is over. You don't look like death anymore and your coughing had gotten lighter and less frequent.

“Oh. Dr. Schneeplestein, how nice to see you today. Come to check on my sister?” Jess asks closing the door behind Henrik.

“Jess? Who's at the door?” You ask popping your head out of the steam filled bathroom. With your stuffy sinuses you'd taken up to taking steam shower or steam baths to help clear them. “Oh, Henrik!” You gasp happy and a bit surprised to see Henrik come by unannounced.

“Oh, I am zo, zorry, I did not mean to interrupt your zhower.” Henrik says almost blushing at the implication you're naked. You laugh and step out of the bathroom in your damp black tank top and shorts.

“Oh, it's no worries, Doctor. I was just trying to clear out my sinuses with some steam. Walking down the hallway you thank your sister for letting Henrik in and usher the good doctor into the living room. “So, Doctor, what bring you by today?” you ask sitting down across from Henrik.

He's in casual clothing—which is a nice change of pace. Usually Henrik is in scrubs and his lab coat while pulling double, sometimes even triple shift to avoid going home. You can tell he hasn't been eating as much as he should. Last time you saw him in casual clothing he filled them out more than he does now.

“Vell, I can to check up upon you, my dear. You zeemed to be quite ill laz time.” Henrik tells you.

You nod in agreement. You had been quite ill. “I'm on the upswing now, Henrik. I'm really only dealing with an occasional stuffy nose and a little bit of coughing, but nothing like I was a few days ago.” You report to him with a big smile. “Have you eaten? Jess and I were just about to decide on what to have for lunch.” You ask standing up with a little bit of dizziness, but nothing to knock you off your feet.

“Oh, no, I could never intrude in zuch a manner.” Henrik says quickly, standing up with you out of habit. You wave your hand at him and head to the kitchen.

“Don't worry about it, Henrik.” You tell him softly. Pausing a moment you say, “on second thought, let me treat you to lunch. I've been cooped up in this house for at least a week and a half, it'd be nice to get out for a few.”

Henrik smiles at you. “If you inzist.” He says playfully. You smirk at him and request he wait in the living room for you to change. The air outside still quite chilly despite the rise in temperature.

You dress in you favorite pair of blue jeans and slip on a cream colored long sleeved crocheted top with a burgundy colored tank top underneath. Your crochet top has large holes in it so you layer yourself with a solid black knitted cardigan. Looking at yourself in your mirror you like the color scheme you've created and pick out a cream colored infinity scarf with a metallic gold foil yarn mixed in with it. You spend a few minutes brushing your hair out until smooth before bundling it atop your head in a messy bun, using a few hair pins to keep the wild strands in place.

Applying only a fruity scented and flavored chap stick you look yourself over again in the mirror, slip your socks on, and leave your room to collect your guest. Halfway down the hall you pause as a coughing fit takes you over then continue on. Fresh air will do your lungs—not to mention your sanity some good, and it's always bound to be a good day if you get to spend it with Henrik.

“Oh yeah, my sister's always talking about you, Dr. Schneeplestein.” Jess says as you get closer to the living room.

“Oh, I did not know zat she zought to highly of me.” Henrik responds and you can't tell if he's flattered or concerned by whatever else you sister's been telling him.

You stand just outside the living room, waiting to hear if your sister or Henrik say anything more before deciding you're being too creepy and step into the living room. “Jess, I hope you're not telling embarrassing stories about me to the good doctor here. I'm sure he wouldn't be interested in hearing about our childhood.” You say trying to defuse the anxiety you feel about having left your sister alone with Henrik.

“Oh, no, no! Y/n, I always vind it interesting to learn more about my friendz.” Henrik says quickly, trying to reassure you.

“Have a good trip out, if you need me to pick you up, just call me. Okay?” Jess says as you head to the door. You nod and wave at her. You know she means it too. Day or night she will come if you call.

“Ah, fresh air!” You sigh happily. Beside you Henrik chuckles, watching you spin around on the  sidewalk. You spin on the ball of your foot and face Henrik, fighting against a coughing fit. You win the fight and continue to smile at Henrik.

“So full of ze energy. It iz good to zee you back to normal.” Henrik chuckles again. You blush and quickly turn away to hide your enjoyment at his words. You turn to quickly, your foot catching on a crack in the concrete. With a shriek you fall to the ground.

Henrik reacts quickly, launching himself forward to grab you, twisting his body to cushion your fall. Everything happens so fast you can barely register it all, but when you open your eyes Henrik is beneath you, his arms wrapped around you hugging you close.

“Oh, are you okay, Henrik?” you ask scrambling to your feet. Reaching out Henrik takes your hand and allows you to pull him up. You look him over for any scratches or cuts. You dust off his jacket as you do and sigh with relief when you find nothing out of order.

“I am okay. Are you?” he asks looking you over for any wounds. You nod your head, press your hand against your chest, and breath a sigh of relief again.

“I'm fine, Henrik, but you gave me a heart attack.” You say as a bout of coughing over takes you for a few seconds. When it's over you feel winded and out of energy. Henrik takes a hold of your shoulder steadying you as you recover from your coughing fit.

“You? You gave me a heart attack!” Henrik responds smiling when he saw your lips curl at the corners.

“Oh, look what a pair we are.” You mutter standing up with a little help from Henrik. Looking up at him you see his glasses are crooked and reach up and adjust them for him. “Okay, now that we have that out of the way,” you chuckle. “Let's get some food.”

Henrik touches the edge of his glasses a light tinting of pink dusting his pale complexion. He watches you walk ahead of him a few steps, your head looking up and down to various restaurants trying to decide where to eat lunch at. Part of him worries about agreeing to lunch. Is he just using you to fill the void of loneliness he feels since the separation from his wife?

“Henrik?” You call, your voice shaking him from his thoughts. “Is everything okay? I didn't hurt you did it?” You ask walking back to Henrik. You look him over again with just your eyes. He looks fine, a little dusted and a bit distant but okay otherwise.

Henrik stares down at you. He likes the way you care after him. In the short time he's known you he's received more attention and affection than he has in the past three years of his marriage.

“Henrik, if you don't want to have lunch you can tell me no.” You tell him feeling a little heart broken but you understand. He never did fully agree to go out for lunch.

“Oh, no, no, it iz not zat.” Henrik says waving a hand in front of himself. You can't help the confusion from entering you. “I vas jus in thought. I do apologize for zis mizcommunication.” Henrik says quickly. You still look at him with confusion. “I vas jus admiring ze amount of caring you have zhown me.”

Relaxing a little you glance away from Henrik a little embarrassed and happy he appreciates your concern for him. “Well, good... Good. You are someone I really like so of course I'd want to take care of you. Now, come along Henrik, let's go get some food in out bellies.” You tell him being a little more forward than you have in the past. You take his hand and shoot him a reassuring smile before tugging him along with you.

“Thank you.” you both mutter to your waiter and hand off your menus before a hushed silence settles between you.

You gaze around the building, looking at the various people populating the place. You smile at the families taking an afternoon out together. “Oh, what a cutie pie.” You coo seeing a chubby baby smashing two fist fulls of french fries into its little tray.

Henrik turns to look at the baby and smiles. He too think the child is quite adorable. Turning to face you he asks, “Do you plan to ztart a family zome day?”

Your cheeks flush and you look away from him. “Eventually. I'm still quite young, not to mention I don't have a prospective boyfriend, so there are a few little barriers to get over before I can start a family.” You chuckle softly. “What about you, Henrik? Do you have plans to try again? I mean if you found the right partner?” you ask softly, sipping on the lemon water in front of you.

You hate the questions as soon as they pass through your lips. You really didn't mean to get so personal so quickly, but it'd been almost to natural. Before the finalization of the divorce Henrik was a bit easier to joke around with, now everything seemed to be a trigger.

“Perhaps if ze right voman came around.” he responds and it's the end of that conversation. Oh, how he wishes you'd be that right one.

“Well, thank you for joining me for lunch.” You tell Henrik as you come up to your townhouse. Henrik nods, but he looks troubled. “Henrik, if you're still thinking about the family thing and finding the right woman, it's okay. I wasn't offended. I crossed a line, I know that now.” You offer softly. Of all the things Henrik is he is not a bad man. A little mad sometimes in his practice, but he's a good man and a good doctor.

Henrik snaps his head up, his eyes locking on yours. “No! No, you get me vrong.” Henrik says quickly. “I vas not shtill thinking of zat conversation. I vas jus... Vould you mind if ve did zis again?” He ask almost shyly.

You feel your whole face, ears and all heat up with excitement. “Yes! I-I mean, of course, Henrik. It's always a pleasure being around you.” You shout without thinking unable to contain yourself. You reel yourself back and giggle nervously. Henrik nods, a big cheesy grin on his face. You always know when Henrik is truly happy with something when me has that big grin on his face.

“Great. Great! Zo, I shall zee you again, perhaps Tuesday?” Henrik asks looking a little pink around the cheek bones and ears as well. You smile with a nod.

“Tuesday it is.”

“Good...Good! I vill be by around seven zirty.”  He tells you taking a step down from your door. You giggle when he misses a step but wave goodbye as he leaves.

Pausing a moment you shout after him, “Did you just ask me on a date?”

“YES!” Henrik shouts from a few yards down. Your heart beats faster at his admission.

“I'll see you Tuesday!” You shout back and quickly duck inside your house. The door slams shut under your full weight as you squeal and jump and giggle at the turn of events. You hadn't truly entertained the idea that Henrik was truly interested in you but now that you know well, you ain't gonna let him go.

[theshadowytiger]

I have a cat myself and I would really like another but I'm worried it might stress my current cat and make her upset. She is a rescued cat and is scared of quite a lot of things and I wouldn't get another if I knew she wouldn't like it or I had no idea how to introduce them slowly. Any tips?

Tiger says: If cat wants friend, get cat. 🐾🐾If she doesn’t want friend be thankful you are blessed with her toebeans. Please tell her I said hi & give her a treat when you read this!🙀😺

Message from Human: Great question! If your female shows sign of being a loner she may be okay being a solo kitty. Not all cats like company, but many do and being a skittish rescue doesn’t mean she can’t make friends. With Tig I know his body language & moods better than anyone. I saw he could use his own kind & that prompted me to get Laz. If you’re her primary owner then you too will know your cat better than anyone.

Have you had your cat long? If not maybe hold off on getting a new cat. Your current cat may be slow to adapt. Throwing another cat into the mix too soon could upset her. However if you have had your cat months/years then by now she has settled. Just covering all topics. 😉

If you do move forward on a new cat there are certain parameters that will make it more likely for them to get along. If yours is a female then another female would make for an easier transition. I think ladies are less fussy about gender and age, but with males the suggestion is to get younger (then they don’t feel threatened). If your cat is under a year old she might like a fellow kitten, but if she’s beyond her kittenhood then the spritely energy of a kitten might be annoying for her (especially for a quiet lady). If you do go young a good idea is to get two kittens so they can expand their energy on each other and not annoy the resident cat. Most suggest that if you have an older cat to get a similarly aged adult. The idea is to get a cat that is going at the same pace as the current kitty so there is less friction. Remember these are generalities - nobody knows your cat, her personality, or her needs, as well as you.

Get your new resident from a friendly animal shelter. Make sure they know your concerns to better match you with a fitting cat (Maybe a fellow rescue!) It may be a good idea to mentally prepare yourself to take back the new cat if the two do not get along. This is a painful idea I know, but in extreme cases is a consideration. You need to decide at the beginning that your first cat is the one you owe your responsibility to. She can’t be clawed to bits or become afraid to move about the house freely. The most important thing is keeping your cat comfortable - it’s her home first.

For actual introductions I’m linking to this post made when Laz arrived. This helps explain acclimating cats to one another via senses. Slow & steady, the cats become adjusted to one another in stages. It’s a great method!

It sounds like you already know letting them loose on day 1 can be a recipe for disaster (you only get one chance to make a first impression right?). Slowly adjusting the cats tends to be more successful & is less stressful on all kitties. Putting the new cat in right away is kinda like someone thrusting a stranger into your house without warning and saying here’s a roommate - you wouldn’t like it, why should a cat? But sniffing their scent, seeing them from afar, etc, that’s like browsing their Facebook and finding out about them ahead of time.

Before they interact it’s a good idea to have them be in each other’s space without the other present (good exchange of smells). Please make sure you are present to intercede during every interaction until they’re comfortable together. Also always let the kitties have an escape route away from each other (e.g: Tig onto the shelves when he wanted to be away from baby Laz) but do not open them up to a whole house. Keep them in a room (or rooms) so they cannot run like crazy (and hide where they shouldn’t). They should have enough space to not feel on top of each other when things get uncomfortable, but not so much that they chase. Having a room specifically for cats made this easier.

Maybe check out my archive (mid-May onward) to see posts from Laz’s early days. It’s a great way to see their transition from distrust to friendship. It could give you an idea what to expect. Also it touches on a couple things that weren’t included in that aforementioned masterpost.

If you haven’t had multiple cats before it’s a good idea to go online and find video examples of fighting versus wrestling behavior. It can look similar and you’ll want to know the difference (otherwise you might try to separate them thinking they’re fighting when they’re really just getting a feel of each other).

Tiger needed a slow introduction with Lazarou. It was almost like being away from other cats for months made him view even a tiny kitten as a threat. It took a few days of him going at his own pace to allow him to warm up to Laz (he’s been great a second time around). When there was hissing or signs of fear I backed off. Tig dictated how fast we moved through the steps, and so should your female.

As far as should you or shouldn’t you get a second, only you know the answer. You know your cat and her circumstances. Read up on cat introductions and give it some deep thought; then you should know if your cat would be up for it. I was nervous at first too, afraid of making the wrong move & upsetting the balance I had formed with my rescue kitty, but my gut told me this was the right thing for Tig, and now he has a baby bro that he whines & cries for if they’re separated (& I call that love).

You’re asking questions and worried about her well-being so you’re clearly on the right track! 😀I hope your kitty will adjust if you choose to get her a friend!Open for follow up questions if you’d like (messages are open if you’re a private person, anon).

[twxntrash]

Rewrite of This

The beginning of each school year was always the same package of dullness for students, regardless of the year or school. Same bland lockers, same annoying teachers acting superior and better because they’re older, same old faces to the same annoying and awful people, same group of friends all dragging their feet because summer has come to an end.

For seniors, it was the final year before they’d go off to college, if they were lucky or motivated enough, and that alone was dreadful enough because it meant they’d study not just for their regular classes, but for their SAT’s, ACT’s, they’d be under a mountain of paperwork called applications for scholarships and collages, and their emails completely full of junk and spam under the guise of grants and award money.

It was Hell. Students may be on a buzz for the first few days, feel like everything is new because the three months they were gone, but by the time they were done with the first full month, they’d be bitter and angry and ready to quit. They’d grow to hate their teachers, their lockers, their classmates.

It was only five minutes in and Lapis already hated everything. Her locker. Her class schedule. Her teachers, even though she hadn’t met them directly yet. She just wanted to be out and back at the beach, swimming and lifeguarding. Not in this brick prison called school.

At least now Jaspers weekly parties had a reason for celebration again; free from school for a few days.

Lapis tiredly tugged on the strap of her vibrant blue backpack, her head held high, her expression that of someone dead inside and she glared at anyone who dared cross her path. It was morning, she was ready to fight someone. She was not a morning person and she’d grown too used to sleeping in until noon only to abruptly wake up at seven.

Three o’clock couldn’t come any sooner.

The final year of high school just meant one more year of prison and morning classes before she could finally blow this town and do something she actually liked. She didn’t really care about getting into a college or not, her grades weren’t all that great anyways so she doubted any would accept her. Lapis was already certain she could make a living as a swim instructor during the summer days and selling her paintings and giving art lessons during the winter days. She didn’t need a college degree for that. She doubted she even needed a high school degree.

Art was her passion, so was swimming. Lapis had decided when she first started swimming that it was what she was born to do. When she picked up her first paintbrush, she fell in love.

She supposed that made her first class of the day a bit more bearable. It was an advanced art class, though she would use the word ‘advanced’ loosely. Still, it was art, which meant she could paint and draw as much as she wanted and the teacher wouldn’t scold her. Well, not as much as the others would. She heard Vidalia was a pretty chill teacher and sometimes even let the class do whatever art project they wanted so she could sleep.

Slipping into the classroom, there was only a couple minutes to spare before the bell would ring so she considered herself cutting it close. She would have wanted to be there a little sooner since it was the one class she was looking forward too, but, she had been held up just a little by running into another student in the hall. Probably some freshmen from the way she looked, it was kind of cute how the blonde had been so frazzled trying to figure out where certain rooms were. Lapis had to admit she was pretty cute. She hadn’t even gotten to ask the girl her name, but, she’d have to keep an eye out for the pretty blonde later in the halls.

Closing the wooden, paint stained door behind her, Lapis scanned the room. It wasn’t hard to find Jasper near the back, the woman was well over six feet tall and packed with nothing but muscle, she stood out like a sore thumb in any crowd and had an attitude to match her appearance.

Lapis shoved her way to the table and dropped her backpack unceremoniously onto the ground by her chair. “Hey, surprised you’re here,” she greeted.

Jasper shrugged as she leaned back in her chair, “Needed a fine arts credit, figured if I got art then at least I could use you to give me a crutch for this class,” Jasper was not an arts person. She was a sports person, and though she was phenomenal in History and English, any other subject she took she barely survived.

“So, when’s Vidalia getting here?” Lapis asked glancing up at the clock. Eight fifteen. Teacher should have been there by now since school officially started.

Her best friend looked at her as though she’d sprouted another head, “Seriously, Laz? You’re the art person and you don’t know?” she asked and Lapis turned with a raised brow, “Vidalia quit at the end of the year, she and her husband and kid moved.”

“What? But Sour Cream’s still here?”

“He’s apparently rooming with Buck and staying here, didn’t want to do long-distance dating with his two SO’s. Vidalia gave the okay to it.”

Lapis hummed as she thought it over. Well, at least that meant Onion wouldn’t be breaking into Funland stuff and giving Mr. Smiley a headache anymore and the Cool Kids wouldn’t be separated. “Any idea who the new teacher is?” Lapis asked. Jasper tended to know anything and everything that went on in this school. Probably because the principal, Scarlett was her aunt. At least, that was Lapis’ theory on it.

Again, the large woman just shrugged, “Heard it was some newbie, fresh out of college teacher,” she said.

“God, they’re going to get eaten alive.”

As Lapis and Jasper chatted, the door was pushed open and a short woman with fluffy blonde hair stumbled in. She had an overstuffed brown messenger bag completely covered in pins and buttons and her entire attire was a mess, like she’d rushed all the way here. She didn’t look that much older than Lapis, in fact, she kind of looked like she was younger given her height and babyface. She had a green blouse and faded jeans, and, well she was kind of cute.

She was a face that was hard to forget. It was the very same girl that Lapis had ran into earlier in the halls. She found a grin making its way to her face as she straightened up. For a moment she wished Jasper wasn’t at her table so she could hail the cutie over to sit next to her. Maybe she’d be able to get beside her later on. But, being classmates with this girl certainly made things easier, she could get near the girl under so many class-related reasons now. This could be good. Hopefully this girl was gay.

Her grin faltered for a moment as she continued watching the girl. Instead of coming to one of the tables for students, she made her way to the front of the room and dropped her bag on the teachers desk and turned to scrawl her name onto the board with a green marker. Without saying anything she wrote Ms. Peridot Olivine. It was scratchy, messy and a little hard to read, but that just gave it personality.

Turning back to the class, she wore a smile far too big and eager for a teacher just starting the day. She clapped her hands together and her grin grew a little, “Hello everyone, nice to meet you. I’m your art teacher for this semester, the great and lovable Peridot Olivine!” she introduced herself with a little laugh, “Don’t think you’re going to get a free A just because this is art. I grade on the effort you put into your work and how you behave in class, along with a paper you’ll have to write as well. Well, multiple papers.”

The class groaned at hearing that, but the smile never left her face. It was genuine, like she really was happy to be here and teaching this class to a bunch of high schoolers.

So, she wasn’t a first year, she was actually older than Lapis. Probably early twenties if Jasper was right. Lapis was, to be frank, quite surprised by that, but… she had to admit that it made it more interesting. The girl, Peridot, was still rather cute. She wasn’t too terribly older than Lapis, not to forget that Lapis was already eighteen anyways.

Lapis felt her grin grow and the interest she had in this adorable blonde grow as well. This was going to be a good year.

[sabredrinax]

Laz

The first time I met Laz, I was a ten-year-old playing in my garden, sticks in hand, pretending I was fencing. He materialised 2-inches above the ground, arms and legs extended like he had just been sky-diving, landing onto my lawn with a heavy thud. I'd jumped back, surprised, frightened and concerned all at once, uncertain on whether to get my father or not. Before I could make a decision he was up on his feet, a wild expression on his face, smiling ear to ear, and said almost in a whisper.

"I did it"

Now I was a stupidly curious child, who rarely saw any kind of excitement of that sort on an adult's face, so, of course, I asked immediately.

"Did what?"

"In a second" Was his response "What year am I?" he asked instead.

"2017" His smile faltered a little

"Ah so that wasn't a success

At this point I was getting irritated at this man in front of me, pacing back and forth muttering words and numbers to himself. He looked no older than 25 but definitely was not younger than 20. Had a plain white tee-shirt on with dark blue trousers, both stained with what looked like oil and of course dirt. Over the tee was a black and red plaid shirt, and around his neck a tribal looking necklace. He also had a piercing in one ear, and no shoes but a mismatched pair of socks on.

"You are trespassing you know" I blurted out "And my dad hates trespassers. He's inside, in the study all I have to do is run and get him and you'll be in trouble" I added, I wasn't really going to get my dad, I wasn't really compelled to, I just wanted him to pay attention to me, and he did.

"Calm down now, I'm just a bit overwhelmed you know..." He paused, and looked around briefly, the smile on his face never leaving. "I'm in London aren't I?"

"Somerset" was my response

"England!"

"Yes"

"Amazing," he said in a hushed tone. "This is unbelievable" I cocked my head, noticing the difference in our speech.

"You're American then," I said, asserting more than inquiring. His smile grew impossibly bigger.

"No"

"Where?"

"You wouldn't know" He said settling into the grass.

"I'm quite smart" I huffed, sitting in front of him.

"Hmm, maybe"

"What's that supposed to mean"

"There's a stranger in your backyard, whose appeared from nothing and is significantly larger than you are, yet you haven't run or called for help"

"I'm also curious" I responded, rolling my eyes. "Are you going to tell me where you're from?"

"Not likely"

I hopped up and brushed down my dress

"Well if you're not going to in-indulge my curiosity, I might as well, what was it you said, 'call for help'.

"Go on then" 

I scowled, spun around and ran towards the house. I wasn't going to tell, it was a scare tactic, was going to stop at the door, turn back around and see his frightened face. Didn't get the chance though. Once I was far enough from him and close enough to the door, a violent gust of wind pulled me back just a little, but hard enough to make me land on my butt. I winced and turned to yell, but he was gone.

[cuthie]

Lautner: Questions

1-3 Did you have a best friend growing up? What was their name? Are you still in touch? Best childhood memory, worst childhood memory?

Gonna run all these together. First, yeah, kinda. We never said, ‘Hey we’re best friends!’, but he was one of a few kids I talked to. Cody Finklehorn. We used to be a part of this garbage collecting team. That sounds dumb, but this was charity for the elderly. Helping them get rid of their trash, it wasn’t a big deal. Me, him, Mary Claire, Lester, and a few others. Like it was a thing we made up. Well, they made up. Cody was pretty popular, and he liked me for some reason, so everyone else just had to suck it up when I tagged along. I remember, as a joke, he shoved me in the dumpster once. Like, not in a bullying getting shoved in kinda way like you might think. This was a friendly prank, shove ole Lautner in the garbage.. Ha. I remember the bottom of the dumpster was just putrefying liquid. It coated my pants, seeped into my socks and shoes, it was disgusting. Cody laughed so hard, they all did. I was pretty pissed at the time, but it was ultimately harmless. 

I think my best memories come from those times in that lil gilnean kids gang. We were maybe ten years old? Helpin folks felt good, like it should. Oh and Winter Veil caroling. That was good too. Worst memory? What counts as childhood here? I was fourteen when I lost my parents to the Worgen and myself to the curse. That was the stuff of nightmares. Like, compared to that, what could be worse? If we mean even younger, there was the time we were evicted. Like, I’m talkin furniture smashed, and clothes in a puddle out in the middle of the filthy street. I had to have been five or six at the time, I really didn’t understand it. There were these men throwing our things out, and an older man yelling at us. Not just raising his voice, but berating my father and screaming and he had this vein on his forehead, he was red in the face. I thought we were gonna be murdered or something. We slept in the library my mother worked at for a while after.

I’m Gilnean, so everyone I knew is dead, basically. Pertainin to ‘do you still keep in touch’.

4 Would you rather have your own kids or adopt? How many kids would you want?

If it’s one or the other, adopt, for obvious reasons. How many kids? I’m good with none. That’s just not something I think about.

5 Do you think you'd be a protective parent or a relaxed parent?

Relaxed. Kids learn from their mistakes, it’s good to let them make them, yeah?

6 What is the worst injury you’ve ever sustained?

I dunno. I’m not a big baby, so I just tough shite out. I’ve been stabbed, had a half dozen arrows hit me, been in an explosion in Darkshore, I had a column collapse on me in the middle of a burning Teldrassil. I’ve had shrapnel injected into me from an exploding goblin aerial craft, I’ve been bitten, beaten, slashed and poisoned.

Pain is temporary.

7 Name one person you would kill in order to protect another person. Who would you sacrifice?

The fuck kind of question is this? I’d kill countless Horde and other murderers. Maybe I don’t understand what’s being asked, but I’ll just write Laz’s name down twice. I’d kill him to protect someone else, and I’d also sacrifice him. Heh.

8 What is the biggest and most important goal you have set for yourself?

Repay my debt to Kal’serrar. Just gonna help them help others until I’m dead and gone. Boom, done, easy.

9 Most dangerous thing you have ever done?

Enlisted with the Kal’serrar. Read the answer to ‘worst injury’, because they’re responsible for 90% of them.

10 What do you try to pretend to care about that really does not interest you?

Kal’serrar lectures. I attend so that I look responsible and like a team player. They’re snore fests. This includes any seminars or training in which we don’t get to actively fight someone.

11 Do you think you’ve ever broken someone else’s heart?

Nope.

12  Describe how you feel physically when you’re in great emotional distress.

My breath feels cold, from my chest up to my throat. I also get this dizzying slow motion fainting sensation sometimes, and I have to kick at my ankles to ensure that I can still feel my legs. I know that sounds weird.

13 Would you rather watch someone you love die right in front of you, or be spared the vision but never get to say goodbye to them?

I’ve done both. You don’t get to say goodbye either way. I’d rather be without the image, so the second one.

14 Is there anything you avoid because of the negative memories it brings back?

I don’t avoid anything, just ask Laz.

15 What kind of flavors do you prefer: Sweet, Sour, Bitter, Spicy, Dry, or Umami (savory meat taste)?

Sweet, Urmommy, sour, spicy. I don’t care for dry or bitter. I didn’t put much thought into this, food is food. 

 16 What was the defining moment in which you knew you were no longer a child?

When I woke up from a year long memory lapse with muscles, better senses and an army of zombies burning the town to ashes? After that came a boat ride and a lifetime of being furry and alone.

17 Describe a person you see everyday to someone who has never seen them before.

I don’t think I see any one person everyday. I see Laz a lot, usually by happenstance. He’s a busybody who’s always poking his nose into other people’s business. Here we go: Tall, cocky, pasty, gotta scar near his eye and mouth. Light brownish hair, colorless eyes that glare like daggers. His nose is upturned as if he’s whiffing the foulest of farts at all times. His gait swings out like a lady of the night. He lifts his chin up when he walks, he pokes his chest out as if it were -actually- swollen, and he has a nasally voice when he speaks in condescending riddles. 

18 What does your anger look like? Describe it

It’s a throbbing sensation at the top left corner of my head that pulses and grows and takes over. It’s a red tint in my vision that darkens on anything or anyone that stokes the fire, pissing me off. It’s narrowed eyes, jaded words, bared teeth and balled fists. It’s slow heavy breathing that doesn’t calm but instead fuels the rage, as if each breath forces your chest to grow and heave.

19 Choose one to three words to describe yourself.

Capable. Impulsive. Hilarious.

20 How much education do you have? Can you read and write? Can you speak more than one language?

I was top of my class until the Worgen outbreak. I can read rather fast, and I’m a decent writer. I can not speak more than one language. I know Common, and I don’t care to assimilate and lose my cultural identity by having to learn another language. I speak the King’s tongue, that’s all I need.

Margo Question:  If you could only keep one of your little books to read for the rest of your life, which would it be?

Book? The Prince Groom. It’s got everything from adventure to romance and satire. Dread Pirate Queen Robin sailing her black flagged ship across the waters of the shrieking eels? That’s awesome. But if I could choose a series, it would be The Dark Tower. Fictional bit about other worlds and one tower that stands at the center of all of them, being taken down by the Void. Good shite.

Laz Question: Why is there the need, to keep twisting tales? You don’t really seem to gather quite as much comedic value and interest with them as you seem to hope. And before you whine - I told you I’ve some ears around.

Numerous reasons. Sometimes people need to toughen up, so I poke them and ruffle feathers via altered/twisted tales so that they might grow as a person and develop a thicker shell. Some things should make us cry, some are simply irrelevant. Sometimes I make up an obvious lie so that people will learn to not believe everything they hear. I always smile when I lie. It’s like a private joke that only I’m in on, you know? Sometimes I twist tales to play demon’s advocate, or prompt someone into telling the correct tale. Sometimes I just think it’s hilarious.