#based on a pretty old sketch that i had to abandon at the time because i couldnt draw jubilees face at the angle that i wanted

[eurekq]

nightengale effect

[amerricanartwork]

Hi! I just wondered if you've played Hollow Knight based off how much you like Rain World. I'd be interested in any thoughts you had on it. :)

Thanks for the ask! No, I have not yet played Hollow Knight, BUT my interest in the game has been piqued! However I still have to see if the gameplay itself seems up my alley, or get invested enough in the characters that I want to discover more than I've already found out (and I have spoiled quite a lot for myself) before I actually decide to buy the game.

Regardless, from what I do know it does seem like an interesting story, albeit one far more tragic than Rain World's in my opinion. The characters I've seen are also pretty cool, both in design and personality. In fact, it was some ship fanart I found a few weeks ago that got me interested in diving deeper into the game once I realized it was where the featured characters were from, especially since one of the characters I had remembered hearing about before.

Here's a little sketch of some characters I was thinking about and whom I've been meaning to draw for a bit! Hornet because she's very Shaped™, Quirrel because from what I've seen he's quite wholesome, and Tiso because he was the first character I heard about and I think he's kinda silly!

Also, some more comparing/contrasting thoughts about the game below:

Firstly, I like how the premise of Kollow Knight involves anthropomorphic insects! It's something I never realized until recently despite being aware of HK for at least a few years, but I usually tend to take interest in stories starring non-humanoid creatures, so it's a plus! I also enjoy the more gothic/Victorian-looking magical high fantasy aesthetic, though it's pretty different from Rain World, which I'd consider far more sci-fi and specbio-esque in its aesthetic.

Now to get into themes, so far Hollow Knight seems to share Rain World's theme of lost/dead civilizations, which is also a very interesting premise to me! However, HK seems to have a greater focus on interacting with the people of its dying civilization and as such you get far more definitive knowledge about what happened to cause it to collapse. The player character seems to take on more of a classic epic hero role, because from what I've heard about the lore and endings, they end up directly influencing the fate of Hallownest, even potentially destroying or defeating the force that caused its ruin. The visuals have this very dark, cool tint overall to sell that gloomy, mournful vibe, and the structures, while presumably old, are still mostly smooth, ornate, and not super deteriorated, with these castle or manor-like appearances more similar to real-life buildings or things in other high fantasy works. Then, the orchestral music I've heard alongside all of these elements really creates this impression in me that it's aesthetic and overall concept is more akin to a high fantasy epic tale, albeit a rather tragic one.

Meanwhile, Rain World seem to have the player take more of an anthropologist role, observing and trying to piece together the story of vast remnants of its dead civilization, which seem alien and impossibly complex because so much of the history they're from has been lost to time. One of the core themes is being very small compared to these long abandoned structures, to really sell the idea that this history is so much older and more intricate than you'll ever know. The colors of Rain World are often warmer, which can be associated with old things, and the structures are far more weathered and broken down, with the only living survivors of the people who made them being the iterators, whom we only get to hear directly from two of. Combined with the focus on simulating an ecosystem, the more directly religious ideas within, the themes of natural cycles and an entire civilization evolving, changing, and ultimately disappearing over deep time, and the overall alien, sci-fi industrial designs of the architexture and strange creature designs that look like things out of "Of Rust and Humus" or some other alien speculative biology worldbuilding project make RW fit well in with that genre of fiction in my opinion.

Sorry if I seem like I kinda took a sudden shift there, but I wanted to talk about this contrast in artistic aesthetics and story genres for a moment because the "lasting impression" an art piece creates something I've recently concluded is pretty important overall in works of art, at least for mine!

But anyway, I hope these thoughts were satisfying for now! Thanks again for the ask!

[stormystarlight]

Have you ever wanted to draw something but you fought due to your skill level at the time you decide not to do it

OH yeah ABSOLUTELY. all the time. my wips folder is full of stuff like this!! let me dust off some old examples

here's a sketch i did for a rain world piece that i was initially feeling pretty good about!! i wanted to experiment with more scenic pixel art, but i guess i didn't know where to start or how to approach it and ended up feeling really roadblocked really early on.

i blocked in some basic colors and did a little detailing on pebbles, but i was just struggling too hard with learning the tools and techniques i needed to pull off what i was envisioning that i got frustrated and stopped. I never picked this one up again, but I have made some other, better pixel art since :] i think the reason the one i linked worked out better is because i was trying to learn fewer things at a time while working on it. that one was a mostly 2-dimensional scene and was more heavily based on a reference, so i didn't have to think as hard about those things. this one was not only a new-ish medium to me, but also had some more challenging perspective and was less reference-heavy. if that makes sense?

more rain world! this was one of my earlier attempts at mimicking the cutscene art style. i got so frustrated with my inability to make the colors & shading look right that it went right into wip jail never to be seen again.

but then i scaled my ambitions back from Immediately Making A Polished Piece to just doing a quick study, and that helped immensely. original on the left, my study on the right. working on this was still difficult, cause i was learning something new, but since it was much simpler it was a much more manageable task. i could take more time to get it right without feeling like i was going nowhere

i never did finish that first one, but i did make some other finished pieces in that style that i think are pretty bangin if i do say so myself. one such example above

here's a video wip (whoa)! god it's really rushed & was never meant to see the light of day in this state so please don't look too hard at it. but this one i got frustrated with mostly because i wasn't feeling good about my ability to draw the cast of characters. so into the pits it went. i don't really have any interest in finishing it anymore since my ideas for the rest of it were speculative and, y'know, the rest of the show has since been released lol.

anyway, to close off my response. the first two are more or less success stories? despite the fact i never finished the original pieces i abandoned. because i wanted to talk about what's worked for me to alleviate this feeling—which is: scale back, try something less ambitious first, work your way up to the big project you're struggling with. but i also have dozens of other examples i could put in here of things that didn't work out at all and went nowhere. like, that just is how it is sometimes. i feel you 🤝 i think most if not all artists (of any medium) go through this haha

[gncrezan]

i'm obsessed with aki, like it's not even funny. I JUST NEED MORE OF HIM IN MY LIFE LAWD HAVE MERCY. would you happen to have a bit more information on the loml...? if not it's aight big love <33

YOU CAN ALWAYS ASK ME ABOUT HIM i'm so sorry it took so long to reply i have been so everywhere but i have been meaning to find like sketches and stuff i have around of him :)

collated a bunch of old sketches of his family!! aki was originally going to be a part of a big like. chinese-zodiac inspired thing and his family in particular were the snakes (he's got the character in his last name lol) and him and his siblings all got snake characteristics . there is however nothing new under the sun and even though i thought this was cool my friend was like "oh like fruits basket" and i shelved the idea LOL

in the end he just existed in a vaccum, i had nothing to do with him, before i dragged him out of there with the intention to drop him into a simpler slice-of-life story with a bunch of terrible postgrad students. that story mainly revolves around like.. biomed researchers basically?? aki would have been an ex-STEM student who dropped out because he didn't want to do medicine anymore, but kept in touch with his friends from the course (the other cast might eventually also be forced into IFs LOL)

more under the cut!

i eventually completely veered off the zodiac-course and kept his base design and turned those scales into tattoos! he's got more in infamous, but in this universe it's just those snakes winding around his arms!!!! infamous tattoos are kind of not set in stone cause i plan to add more (inspired by the bandmates) and the tattoos are supposed to be based off them!! there was no way he'd stop at just seven's initials, he has a little thing for all of them!!!! bc we're only really two chapters into infamous tho i just want more time to "know" the bandmates and then give more him more tats (i have been reading asks about them and trying to assign stuff LMFMFMFAOOO)

what he has and i consistently draw him w are seven's initials, the snakes (leftover design from the kind of concept he was based off of), lotuses/flowers (could change!! i'm thinking rn that he gets everyone's favorite flower/plant tattooed), wave designs (i'm praying someone's a water sign), and he's also got the opening notes of their first song that they played as a band :)

the original version of him is also based vaguely off a friend i made in uni who did hair/makeup and which i still think is so cool and gave him that !!!! more specifically he sort of dropped out of a good-asian-kid stem course to do this, which freaked his parents out when they realised he was just Leaving to go cut people's hair. aki's pretty great at it, and is lucky enough to work at a good stylist agency <3

kills it at karaoke with his friends in this universe too :) his genuine passion for working as a stylist and love for his job translates into music for infamous, which despite how "i'm-so-cool-and-chill-about-everything" he tries to seem, is his biggest worry. he really really wants to succeed and stick it to his parents, and can't imagine what else he'd ever do. music is all he has and really gets lost in songwriting/singing :)

his stage name akiya is also a reference to the word for abandoned/empty houses in rural areas in japan. they're cheap to buy, but cost a lot to repair and flip. this is a stealth dig at his parents lol but aki passes it off as a portmanteau of his first/last name: he is secretly emo like this </3

also their band name, snakebites, in general is like 1) "what's cool when we are 16 and making this band when we are in high school" and 2) the band's shared birth year being the year of the snake (2001/i'm projecting) (they're still like 25/26 which makes infamous oddly take place in the future for me, 2027ish???) and luckily i don't believe the year it takes place matters to anyone so i'm just going with it <3 don't think about it too hard this is deep lore that only makes sense to me

their fandom name also call themselves snakes, and they lean into this for their promo materials (each member gets a government assigned snake breed) LMFAO !! aki lightly thinks its cringe but it's not hurting anyone, so he just told maya that he thought the name was great LOLLLLL !!! they have a vaguely edgy image because of this (and because ya know. lots of drama surrounding seven leaving) even though they're much more an indie rock band (sounding more like hippo campus, yona yona weekenders, young the giant) with a reputation for being wholesome

there's also a fun game their fans like to play called "using aki's hair, what era of snakebites is this" LOL <3

i hope this was kind of understandable <3 thank you for letting me cry about my boy <3

[techiebrots]

Hello so I’m going to be word vomiting in your ask box due to the beloved archive being down and I have thoughts tm about B team that weee caused by your drawings + others and also because you artist need to get an ask that is just a mega laser kung pow penis beam of love for what you create and I’m here to do that

B team look so friend-shaped! The way you draw them, with softer corners but keeping lines straight and the flat muted colors that are still bright and draws the eyes’ attention/greys which are layered in such a nice way

I also see the checkered orange-yellow blanket

ham is such a soft shade of pink which is easy on the eyes but is more vibrant than Peni and Noir (Morse obvious in noir and the contrasts between noir and ham is sooo good, opposite spectrums of color)

he’s more humanoid but he’s still cartoony and the way you draw him just fits so well with B team. A wonderful balance

Him and Peni together are just great, they’re probably incredibly chatty and Ham would get Peni more since he’s more in tuned with technology unlike noir’s old man soul

Peni having a round face in the artwork of B team napping together resonates with me, she looks so comfortable napping with her dads

also the doodles of ham and her brushing their teeth (or in ham’s case his eyes), her drinking out of her #1 daughter mug, and noir ruffling her hair :D the daughter and her two dads <3

noir! Dad and friend-shaped. Your rendition of him unmasked makes him so handsome and pretty, like he reminds me of the dad from my neighbors Totoro- except more worn out lol

The drawing you did of that fanfic where B team are chilling with Hobie and Noir listens to some of his music- that has been keeping me GOING through the blackout

he’s holding his hat next to his face and is one sentence away from hiding his face while ham is one moment looking at noir’s face from having his eyes turning into hearts

Im not really a writer that can put how much I adore the drawings into words that perfectly articulate every last thought I have but I hope I did pretty well and sound vaguely comprehensivable and that tumblr didn’t say something was wrong with send- god I had to rewrite this thing once already-

HOLY FUCKING SHIT- UH THANKS! At first I thought this ask was just headcanons of team b and I was so ready to hear you out

While reading through this I got just a small idea of team b and decided to draw it out, which will be posted soon after this so thanks for the brief idea

Now here’s where I say my OWN incomprehensible ramblings so yay more text!

I have NEVER had someone inspect my art or at least told me they have so thanks! I am currently freaking the fuck out and going crazy actually, I have like five messages to my friend freaking out about this ask, and I WILL be rereading this every minute of the day

I have a lot of drawings of them all that will never see the light of day, mostly since they’re warmup drawings and I’m still figuring out how to draw them all consistently but I’m having fun. I mostly based ham off of how he looks in in comics since I love how silly he looks in them and also taking inspiration off of other artists who draw him.

Now here’s the fun part about that exact napping post you’re talking about, that post almost never got made. Like I completely abandoned the idea at first since I didn’t like the first sketch I made of it and almost discarded the idea a couple more times during the process of making it since I had a different idea in my head of what it was supposed to be. Even when i was done with it I was thinking of just not posting it since I didn’t completely like it myself, but now here we are with it being my most popular post. I like the drawing now since I pretty sure I was just staring at it for too long

AND THAT FIC DRAWING- WIZARD MAKES GREAT FICS! I keep rereading them and I will probably go back and read them AGAIN once archive is up and running, I have ideas for some of their fics to draw out but nothing concrete yet

Anyways in short i fucking appreciate this so much thanks! I am currently vomiting everywhere

[clonewarsarchives]

THE ART OF MANDALORE (#116, APR 2010)

The Mandalorians’ debut in Star Wars: The Clone Wars has proved to be a huge talking point for fans of the saga. When Lucasfilm held a special screening of “The Mandalore Plot” for fans, Supervising Director Dave Filoni took time to talk about the design choices made on the show. 

THE MANDALORIANS

George Lucas’ original idea was that the Mandalorians were super-commandos, a precursor to the stormtroopers from the Clone Wars era. You could see that in all of Ralph McQuarrie and Joe Johnston’s early sketches of Mandalorians, so George really was taking us back to that original root, now that he had The Clone Wars as a series to actually tell this story and use them as super-commandos.

If they were colored white, they would be like the clones, so George wanted them to be clad in blue and black. We had the old Boba Fett symbol on Pre Vizsla’s back and I said, “No.” I wanted the Death Watch symbol, the correct symbol. They don’t have gadgetry at this stage. That’s someplace for them to go to resemble more of what writer Haden Blackman had with his original Death Watch in the Dark Horse Comics.

The helmet that we had designed was based much more on Boba’s actual proportions. It’s pretty squat if you look at the picture, very boxy. But Kilian Plunkett [Star Wars: The Clone Wars concept artist] had a really good idea that we should stretch it out a little bit to make it a little bit funkier, a little longer.

PRE VIZSLA

For Pre Vizsla, we just wanted something that called him out as the leader. We took the range finder off his helmet. It was an effort to make Boba Fett cooler, and Jango cooler, and Rex cooler. I didn’t want kids to be confused, because he would really took like Rex with a range finder. So we simplified it down; we distilled the helmet to its essence, and a trident is always a good symbol. When we did that we didn’t know about the Death Watch logo. I found that one day going through some material and thought, Wow, that’s a coincidence.

When you have a leader, it’s always important that he stands out from everybody else. For the clone commanders, we can get into any military reason we would like as to why they look like they do. The reality is they look like they do so that kids know that they’re the ones in charge. It’s like the question of why does that one sandtrooper have an orange pauldron? You can create all kinds of lore about that, but the reality is cinematically, you know that this is the guy who calls the shots.

THE DUCHESS SATINE

I thought it would be great to get a blonde girl in Star Wars! Satine’s genesis as a look came from an abandoned Padmé design lain McCaig had done for The Phantom Menace. Every now and then when we have a story pitch, George will take images out of this old binder he has, and he’ll hand it over, and he’ll say, ‘This is Satine.’ I’ll say, ‘Well it looks like an old abandoned Padmé design,’ and he’ll say, ‘Yeah, but now it’s Satine.’ I likened her to Cate Blanchett.

MANDALORE

One of the first things George said when we started discussing these episodes was that Mandalore was going to be a large desolate planet of white sand with these cube-like buildings on it. At one point I didn’t even have the buildings quite square enough. The big capital city didn’t look enough like a giant city, so we made it a dome with little cubes on it, but it’s kind of a Moebius-influenced design, very desolate and barren. It’s all that remains after the wars have happened and everything has been laid to waste. George also wanted to see through layers of glass. You can see characters underneath and above the glass.

I talked to Kilian Plunkett about having the look of the Boba armor, kind of emblematic, in all the windows and all the designs, so you get those shapes that show up like a piece of his armor. That idea—that they are warriors—is embedded in the very architecture, because it’s strong.

MANDALORIAN SHIPS

I always liked Star Wars ships that had some kind of re-orienting wing. When Slave I took off and it was different in the air than it was on the ground, I was like: Oh, that’s so cool! And the B-wing has little wings, and it’s getting rotated. I love that stuff! So we had this weird orienting wing, where it can fly sideways and straight up and down, and when it lands its wings tilt right up.

THE DARKSABER

The darksaber carried by Pre Vizsla was originally a vibroblade. Initially there was no sword fight with Pre Vizsla in the script. He had to have a fight, and he had to have a saber, but he couldn’t have a lightsaber because I know it’s a contentious thing when any character who is not a Jedi carries a lightsaber.

George watched it and said, “No way. There’s no way that there would be a weapon shaped like a sword that could counter a lightsaber blade. If you do that, a lightsaber isn’t special, and then why wouldn’t the Jedi also be using those things? It doesn’t make any sense.”

He later worked it out that he wanted it to be a darksaber, and it would have a black blade with a white edge. George said that the back-story was that the darksaber was taken from the Jedi Temple during the days of the Old Republic. I think it’s unique and it’s going to make an awesome eFX replica darksaber. I promised Jon Favreau (Pre Vizsla) as soon as they make one he gets one, so I hope they do!

[shtern-and-art]

I have more questions because it's no longer 4am lmao.

Does Skeppy fear any animals? I just wanna know if there's any sweet moments of Skeppy clinging to Bad whilst he tries to calm him down.

I'm guessing Bad still hates things like littering and woodcutters but would he ever act particularly strongly about it or would he have more control?

I like how Rat seems to tolerate Skeppy because Bad likes him but would she ever get jealous if Skeppy started pettting another dog?

I have a horrifying image of Bad just spider climbing up a tree to fetch Skeppy. I don't know why but I feel like dude wouldn't even need branches lmao.

What other supernatural creatures/people do they come across? Were there any that were especially dangerous and did they befriend any?

Is Bad much physically stronger than Skeppy? I keep thinking of Skeppy being a little shaz and Bad just one-arm picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder XD.

Does Bad ever get nightmares of the day he became the forest spirit?

How far would Skeppy take stealing? Would he steal something he knows the owner has genuine attachment to? Would he do everything in his power to steal something for Bad even if it means getting hurt?

Who's more likely to protect the other?

Skeppy just minding his business looking at one of Bad's textbooks, turns his head and Bad's just having a tea party with a freaking bear. Surprised the man hasn't had a heart attack yet XD.

What's your favourite thing to imagine them doing?

Is Bsd an adrenaline junky? Or is he scared of more dangerous things like bungee jumping and mountain climbing.

What would their reactions be to rollercoasters?

Do they have a favourite date-night activity?

Everytime I think of this au it brightens my mood!! Thank you for making something so heartwarming!! <3

Glad to see you again :D And yaay, questions!

My pen pressure broke again, I can't finish any sketches for this ask rn, but here's a couple of old messy designs.

1) Comforting and nightmares

Skeppy has a normal, I’d even say adequate level of fear towards wild animals, whilst Bad has it in negative numbers. And, yes, this fun juxtaposition leads to a lot of unfortunate moments of Skeppy nearly dying from heart attack when some of Bad’s animal friends show up unexpectedly, or Bad goes all out for his tea-parties with wild bears or smth.

So, yes, sometimes the comforting hugs are necessary! And no, none of them ever play up the dramaticness of the situation just to drag out the nice comforting moment They do n o t. That’d be very silly and unnecessary, and will deserve a lot of teasing. So, it’s all serious. Not only for the first couple minutes. Yes.

But If you’re looking for comfort-after-actual-hurt – Bad does have to hold and comfort Skeppy, when the stress of trying to not fuck up the good stuff around him gets too strong. And after the nightmares where they are hated and chased by people. Those dreams do not come often, but when they do, Bad is there to hold Skeppy, whisper in his hair that he is alright, that they’re both alright, and that they can handle everything that’s going on right now.

And Bad himself, well. After leaving the town, his nightmares about the night of the ritual stopped almost completely. They come rarely, only when the anxiety gets really bad. Before, in the forest, Bad had them pretty often. It’s one of the reasons he mostly slept not as himself, but in the minds of the animals.

2) Littering

Bad will not maim someone for not getting a candy wrapper in a trashcan, especially if there are people around. But if someone leaves a big mess in the nature, or even (*gasp*) does it regularly, Bad can and will try and teach them a lesson. As in: pull a cautionary (and probably slightly terrifying) prank on the misbehaving person.

It doesn’t always work out as Bad intended, and may even scare some people off anything relating to nature for good, but, according to Bad, it’s still “a fun and useful little hobby to have :3”.

3) Rat

Rat takes a looong time to warm up to any other animals that infringe on her territory. And Skeppy might be a little shit (and his own rights for Bad are debatable) but he is Rat’s territory still (by approximation from Bad). So, she can gatekeep Skeppy a little bit. Not as much as she does Bad, but the man gotta know his place – Rat comes before other dogs for him too.

4) Tree climbing and strength

Oh, Bad can an will climb down a tree like a full-on creepy creature he is: head down, using only his claws, with Skeppy tucked under one arm. Maybe not even upside down, if Skeppy is lucky, and wasn’t too annoying about wanting to stay up on the tree for the night :D

5) Meeting other spn creatures

Oh, that’s a big question (: Yes, they do meet other cryptids, befriend some, and get in trouble with some, and deal with a handful of new and old spn troubles :D

I always thought that Bad and Skeppy’s life after the main story can make a series of short stories (or one big episodic one) dealing with exactly that: the guys traveling around, meeting other cryptids, learning more about themselves and the world, trying to build a life between human and supernatural crisis going on. Just like In The Dark it can based on the mix between the real life and the minecraft-verse events.

I wanted to focus more on finishing the main story first, though, so these stories are not as sought through, I didn’t even write down any of them yet :D

But if you have more concrete questions, ideas, or suggestions (about a specific person, or a specific thing happening) – write me, I’ll think about it, and how it can work with the theme and worldbuilding I have in mind.

6) Stealing + Protectiveness

Skeppy can sometimes forget about, ahem, moral principles, or human decency… emphasis oh “human”. He’s nature and different worldview it gives, it seeps through in his life and actions even more with age. Especially after he’s been away from actual people for a long while. So, I guess, he might at times steal something that is very important to someone, or do something that could be considered weird or rude in general.

And if Bad really needs something, or is in danger – all rules are down. If there is no one to reality check Skeppy, he might proceed to walk on heads, and commit risky and reckless crimes just to help or save Bad.

They both are quite bad with that, the protecting each other thing. Bad, tho, can be more fiscally violent in his protectiveness.

7) Adrenaline and rollercoasters

Well, it’s not that Bad likes adrenaline specifically, he’s just very curious, likes to try new things, and is almost unkillable. So he can just- just go for everything that’s interesting for him with reckless abandon, and if it goes wrong – welp. Bones can heal limbs can regrow, and the cool abandoned caves will not explore themselves. He’ll have to learn to ease up with lack of selfcare though. Because Bad can’t always leave Skeppy to fend for himself, while he heals, and Skeppy does NOT like seeing Bad getting hurt so much, and not caring about himself at all.

This probably comes back to Bad dealing with his spn nature and learning to make peace between it and himself. And to his anxiety, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

And hey, it’s the same for Skeppy and his lack of adequate moral compass at times :D

There will be a lot of tension and growing they’d have to do in regards to all this.

Also Skeppy is the one who’s really into chasing the thrills :D Man spent nearly half a year annoying probably-murderous-forest-spirit just for little not-boring fun, jeez :DD

Rollercoasters are a no go, tho. They go up in the air, real high, and, once again, Skeppy and highs do not mix, they do not mingle, they will not have tea parties (with or without bears). Unless, of course, Skeppy really needs to prove something. Then he’ll go on a ride, and die an honorable death, and will never admit he screamed all the way through it.

8) Dates

(*insert an innuendo from Skeppy here*) But, ahm, actually I’d say they love going on picnics: getting food, and hanging around in the nature for a while.

And I honestly donno what I like to think about the most… I just really enjoy the vibe and the atmosphere of the whole story, and how Bad and Skeppy interact in general.

It all is a real delight to write about :D

---

In The Dark - masterpost

[petite-ely]

Afraid // JJ Maybank

five - but what if?

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: bad language (don’t swear kids), mention of drowning, mention of death, nightmares, mention of guns, mention of fight, did I miss something.

Description: after his reckless actions at the party, JJ is unable to sleep but he isn’t the only one still awake.

A/n : I don’t want to make this longer than it already is, I think I’ve talked enough lol. If for some reason you want to know why I’ve been gone for so long I’ve written a post regarding it. Sorry again for not posting in so long. If you want to chat, feel free to reach out. I’m friendly. :) please kindly tell me if I’ve made some mistakes, I’ve reread this like a hundred times but its possible some mistakes slipped.

Previously next

Afraid masterlist

Gif by @cobrazkai

Song recommendation

JJ Maybank was 14 years old when he first realized that he had feelings for one of his best friends. The thing is he didn’t know what the hell those feelings were. He had always thought that y/n was really pretty and he considered her to be one of her closest friends and that was it. Friends- that’s what they were.

But after years of friendship and wild adventures and basically hanging out 24/7, something felt different. And boy, did that scare him.

JJ was not the kind of person to be really in touch with his emotions. Being abandoned by his own mother and living with an abusive alcoholic father didn’t really help either. If anything, his past traumas only made him more disconnected from his emotions and feelings.

He might’ve been hot headed and impulsive but that didn’t stop him from feeling things, often even too deeply. The issue was naming the emotions he was feeling. He didn’t know what he was feeling like half of the time. So when it came to y/n, his feelings for her were so intense and unknown. He had never felt this way for anyone before. He was so confused.

Being around her felt weirdly homely and yet, he never really had a real home to come to. For him, it was only a house. It was a building with things he wasn’t really attached to and a man he couldn’t really call a father, despite DNA saying otherwise. Being with her felt warm and golden and it was like a drug he couldn’t say no to. He was constantly looking for ways to feel this specific way. It was euphoric. But he only felt this way when he was around her. And it felt like home.

She was the home he wanted to come to every freaking night. And he wanted to dance with her and have night long discussion and caress her cheeks tenderly. He wanted to kiss her more than anything else, his lips on hers staying that way until one of them needed to take a breath - oh what heavenly feeling that must be. He wanted to proclaim his feelings to the entire island - the entire world even.

Only he couldn’t. There was this rule, and he couldn’t break it. Usually, he wasn’t the kind of person to let rules determine what he should and shouldn’t do. But it was the pogue rules, he couldn’t break them. He couldn’t do that to his friends, regardless of his own feelings.

Love. That’s what his feelings were. It took him some time to realize it, but yeah, it was love. He was certain of it (which was rare for JJ). A first love, innocent, deep and one sided. At least that’s what he thought. How could she love him? How could anyone love him when even his own father didn’t? Who would want him?

Now, JJ had messed, big time.

He was sitting beneath a tree, at the edge of the yard whims the château, a few feet away from where the water started. His gaze was turned towards the sunrise though he wasn’t really looking at the magnificent show of colours that nature was offering him. He was thinking or more like regretting.

He kept replaying the event that had happened just a few hours ago on the boneyard again and again in his mind. The arrogance on John B’s face while he taunted the kooks, the empty, psychotic look on Topper’s face while he was holding J.B’s head underwater, his own hand holding the gun against Topper’s head. It felt so powerful at the moment and yet in retrospect he felt so stupid. What would he have done if something had actually happened, if someone had gotten hurt because of him?

In the spur of the moment, he hadn’t thought about it really much. How crazy it actually was. He saw his friend in a situation where he could actually die and only thought about helping him. He had this thing with him that could help save him, an object that take could take someone’s life in the matter of seconds. So he used it at his advantage. He had only wanted to help, but at what cost.

He kept picturing the expression on y/n’s face when he got the gun out. It wasn’t anger, no it was much worse, she was terrified. She had actually been scared of him. How could he ever make up for that. How he could he ever admit what he was feeling for her after he had brought her such terror. He had ruined everything.

What if she never forgot that moment? What if she never forgave him?

A branch cracked somewhere in the distance, and JJ turned to face whoever, or whatever, was lurking in the dark. He was blinded by the bright artificial light of a flashlight. “JJ?” A voice spoke and the blond immediately recognized it. Y/n.

“Can you please turn it off, I don’t think it’s necessary,” he responded, motioning to the clarity that brought the sunrise. It was light enough for them to fully see one another.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, “-she sat down beside him- “Couldn’t sleep?” JJ stared at her for a moment before taking his eyes away.

“Yeah, you could say that. What about you? John B snoring too loud?” Y/n gave a small laugh.

“Um, no, not this time.” Her smile went down. “I had a nightmare.” JJ’s brows furrowed.

“Not about um, not about tonight right?” He asked, guilt hidden in the tremors of his voice.

Images of the past night filled y/n’s mind. Her brother being held under water, JJ pulling the gun out, the loud echoing sound of the firearm as it shot in the air. She could still hear it ringing slightly in her ears.

A small moment went by before she finally shook her head in denial, earning a small sigh of relief from the blond (at least that wasn’t his fault, he already felt guilty for so many things). “No, uh, no it wasn’t that,” she said, her voice barely audible.

JJ stared at her face in the golden light of this early morning. He noticed the blank stare in her eyes and frowned. Nightmares, although worrying for most people, were pretty common for y/n. JJ of course knew this, yet something felt odd.

He rested his hand on the small part of her back between her shoulder blades. “Do you want to talk about it?” She turned her head to meet his eyes, the feeling of his skin, warm and soft against hers sending small tingles at the base of her neck.

She didn’t want to bother him with her problems, she knew how horrible his home life was compared to what she was living. She didn’t want to remind him of this not make him feel bad about her small problems when he was facing such violence on a daily basis. Still, she knew JJ and talking about his dad was the last thing he wanted to do. And his eyes, his beautiful ocean blue eyes, it’s like they could see through her. How could she lie to him?

“I, uh I-I-“ his hand went to her shoulder and he squeezed it reassuringly. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.” Y/n felt her cheeks burning (hopefully he didn’t notice it). She took a moment to breathe in deeply the fresh air, calming herself slightly before putting her hand on his.

“No, I-I want to. I think it’ll help, in a way.” JJ cracked a sweet smile. “Alright then.”

“I keep having this one dream about my dad and I see him on his boat wandering. He’s lost in the middle of the ocean and he’s calling my name.” Saying those words, she really felt as though she could hear her father calling her name in the far distance, as if he was right beside her. Sadly, it was only her imagination playing tricks on her.

“And it keeps turning to this nightmare, where he dies in various horrible ways. Either drowned or starved or eaten by sharks.” JJ’s gaze softened, his eyes admiring her lips forming each words one after the other. “But tonight-“ she let go of his hand, shifting her body to face him completely, “-tonight, for a reason, I didn’t see him.”

“The boat was empty.”

Flashes of her nightmare came back to her like waves crashing on the beach. Her dad on his boat, a smile sketched on his lips. The sky is clear blue, not a cloud is in sight. There’s a warm breeze, she can almost feel it on her skin, and the sun is shining. It’s almost utopian, the perfect day to spend out in the sea.

Then the scene changes. The sky darkens to a deeper shade of blue, grey clouds towering the ocean. The wind is stronger, much stronger. It whistles as it makes its way in the crevices between each tree and threatens to tear the sails down. And the boat, she can see it floating hauntingly on the wild waves the same way a ghost would in abandoned castle. And there’s no trace of her father. Not even a feeling, that would tell her he’s there, trying to survive this storm.

“What if he really is gone J? What if my dad-“ she stopped her sentence to look at the horizon, somehow hoping to see a sign that would prove she was wrong. “I’m trying so hard to be positive and optimistic, but it’s been so long. What if he never comes back?”

The look in her eyes was heart-wrenching. JJ didn’t know what to say or do. He never really thought about it. What would happen if Big John was gone. To be honest he didn’t want to, that man was more of father to him than his own ever was. And losing him would be... he preferred not to think about it.

“I disagree,” he finally said. “What?” “Your dad is like one of the smartest person I’ve ever known. I think that, he, of all people would know how to get out of any situation, especially if it seems impossible to everyone else. I don’t think that you should give up on him yet.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes, I do,” he smiled. “So fuck everyone who tells you otherwise,“ y/n giggled. “Fuck all of them! You’re allowed to have hope, y/n, even after this much time. They can’t take that from you.”

“In the meantime, we’ll there’s us,” us, “the pogues, our own family. We can get through anything, right?”

“Yeah, we can.” Y/n’s head fell on his shoulder. “We’re the pogues.”

JJ admired her carefully. How her face looked, basked in the golden rays of the sun, looking so terribly tired and yet so beautiful. He could stay like this forever, losing himself completely in her smile. God she was so wonderful.

“Hey y/n/n?” “Yeah?” “Are you mad at me?” “Huh?”

“Why would I be ma- oh, oh.” The gun. He thought she was mad at him for what he did. Though he saved her brother, didn’t he? So, she didn’t understand why he would think she could hate him.

“It’s just that you looked so terrified when-” “You saved him JJ, that’s what matters most.” Y/n interrupted the boy mid sentence, placing her hand on his arm in gratitude. “If you hadn’t done anything, he could have...” she didn’t finish her sentence.

When she saw JJ holding the firearm against Topper’s head just a few hours ago, she had first been incredibly shocked. She didn’t recognize the JJ she knew. But now, she completely understood. It was his way of protecting his friends, his way of showing he cared. And that, she admired him for it. Though he could’ve shown it in a less dangerous way.

“I admit,” she added, “it was dangerous and a bit scary to see and we’re probably gonna get some kind of revenge from the kooks soon, but no one got hurt. And J.B, well he’s okay! We’re all okay!”

“Also, I’m pretty sure I did some very, very stupid things last night, so I can’t really be mad at you,” she cringed remembering the amount of alcohol influenced things she had said and done during the party. “God, I must have looked so ridiculous.”

JJ laughed at her comment. “Yes, yes you did.” “Man, John B was right, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

“Can you just promise me something?” Asked y/n, once their laughter had died. “Depends what?”

“Promise me you’ll never hurt yourself with that thing, or anyone else for that matter.”

“I promise, y/n. ”

“Thank you.”

Taglist

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If I forgot you or if you wanna be added/removed just tell me! Also I’m sorry if your name didn’t work :/

[onedivinemisfit]

During my recovery, this has been my biggest project, no kidding. I looked but couldn’t find Obi’s witcher!AU body template so I sketched some Bruxa!yuki designs instead. <w< I’ll finalize and colour them when I’m well, or so I hope, unless I forget XD

Pls forgive any mistakes I’m not 100% yet. ^^; 

Explanations below the cut~

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata Witcher (c) Andrzej Sapkowski TW3 models (c) CDPR Art: Me

Disclaimer: I am not a tailor and as such all my opinions are based on preference and evt pushing rules in my favour XD

The main idea with her wardrobe was to underline that whatever she’s doing, Shirayuki is feminine, and wants to present feminine, hence the skirts and ribbons and embroidery. She’s also a person fond of utility, so belts, pockets, and layers that can be added or removed as she fancied, was also an important facet to add. But she’s also bruxae, monster species, so she’s got a few blind spots, so to speak, regarding what is and isn’t proper to wear in human society. But most of all, her clothes make it easy for her to use her bruxa powers to move around swiftly, silently, and with purpose

Around half of these were referenced from the witcher 3 game, with me picking my favourite garb, and what made more sense for her in different situations. 

1. Huntress Outfit - this one I made myself, using only some of the basic wardrobe notes from tw3. I’ve a softness for overdresses/kaftans with splits, especially if they’re combined with tights/buckskins. Shirayuki is a poor bruxa living in the woods outside a small human settlement, so she doesn’t have access to a tailor other than on market day, or when peddlers arrive, hence she often has to redesign old/too-small clothing for new purposes. Another point was to reinforce her sleeves, to make it easier to brush away branches and undergrowth, and adding the Skelligan waist shawl, a gift from her half-sister, as recurring themes.

2. Winter Outfit - another I made myself, because I was dying to design something that included a sheepskin jerkin. The waist shawl helps redefine the jerkin and give it a feminine twist, and the wrapped sleeves both reduce noise and keeps her cuffs from leaking precious warmth. The wool tunic could have been a dress, but I wanted to focus on showing off her fur-tucked winter boots and knitted long socks. Shirayuki probably knitted them herself.

3. High Summer Outfit - another self-made design. Made so as to underline her non-humanness, borrowing heavily from witcher elven aesthetics, with lots of exposed skin, crossed fabric, and asymmetrical cuts. This is what she wears when the weather *won’t* allow you to dress decently or you get purged by the sun, basically. Again, since Shirayuki’s often short of fabric, a lot of refashioning going on. 

4. Commoner Outfit - A very basic woman’s dress, very presentable, very respectable, especially since Shirayuki is trying to sell the lie that she’s a normal human woman. It’s her go-to outfit for visiting human settlements, or for performing simple chores around the house, such as cooking, sewing, or spinning. Things that keep her in or around her homestead, and not gallivanting in the woods at midnight looking for prey.

5. Relaxing Outfit - merely a dusty day dress pulled over her nightgown, for those chilly nights where Shirayuki doesn’t want to undress for bed until she’s halfway under the covers. When the chores are done and all that’s left to do is sip a cup of blood, read a book beside the hearth and wait for Ryuu to return from his late night wandering, she likes to shed all those layers and relax.

6. Throw-together Outfit - referenced from the game, almost entirely (Keira Metz’ witch model) - save the shoes and headband. After the loss of her home and her more presentable clothing thanks to witcher Obi (who will later admit that yes he does in fact owe her a new dress... and blouse... and apron...) this outfit was assembled through raiding an abandoned witch’s hut. Anything that could suffice as clothing, basically, even the old curtains. Shirayuki doesn’t personally care that some of her *assets* are pretty much on display, but she would like some linen anyway, the cotton does chafe a bit. Aside from the pearl necklace, nothing she’s wearing actually belonged to her in the first place.

7. Formal Commoner Outfit - reffed from the game, (Keira Metz’ second model) the shoes being the sole exception. A dress for special occassions, perhaps May Day, Equinox celebrations, etc. Not that Shirayuki often dared participate in such events, due to the amount of people who show up even in small villages to throw tankards together and dance around bonfires. But she does pilfer the dress from the abandoned witch’s hut anyway, thinking maybe, afterall, since it’s so pretty and it had matching sleeves to go with it... keeping it wasn’t such a dumb idea. 

8. Pants Outfit - reffed from the game (juggler npc) A cross between a traveler and a city dweller, a light-weight yet very elegant outfit for strolling in the human cities. The top is presentable enough that she doesn’t look poor as a pauper, while the pants give the impression of someone on the move, a stranger. It also provides the most comfortable riding experience, the few times she does ride, as she has no need for a lady’s saddle.

9. High-Class Outfit - reffed from the game/one of my favourite tw3 modders, (New Sorceress models by Roksa) I only added the shoes and circlet. When Zen has the dress made for her, it is by FAR the most expensive thing she’s ever worn. Not a single thread of the dress isn’t well-made, the dyes are the brightest and most even-coloured, and the silk is light as a touch on her skin. While the dress itself is a demure, feminine dream, what sets the ensemble apart are the dark cat’s eye gems, just hinting at Shirayuki’s darker secrets. They’re set in gold, for obvious, unspoken reasons, as she reacts to silver much like being set on fire...

10. Evening Outfit - reffed from the game, I just changed the necklace (Ida Eméan’s Gwent card art) another very expensive dress, but surprisingly one that Shirayuki tolerates better. No stiff, itchy velvet, no heavy damask, just sheer silk with gold thread (again for reasons obvious to a bruxa) some simple sleeves, and a chain of stones, no gilded jewellry that could empty a bank vault if sold to the right people. She probably takes a fancy to this dress while attempting to woo a certain witcher, which explains the understated beauty, the most daring of cuts, one that screams “look at me, only me” and the simple-at-a-glance design. Much like Shirayuki herself.

11. Skellige Outfit - inspired by the viking-esque game design for Skellige fashion, this dress is for when Shirayuki and her family stay in the Isles, following her sister’s suggestion. A dress that signifies the matron head of a household with its pewter clasps and apron, follows Skellige fashion demanding you wear a shawl with your clan colors (Shirayuki, although clan-less, was given one by Torou) and layers. And armguards. And a split overdress. To show that this is Shirayuki’s choice wear afterall. 

[artmakerproductions]

“The Island Of Beasts” — Concept Sketches

Another movie idea that pays homage/tribute to the work and films of Ray Harryhausen, specifically the VERY first film I ever saw that introduced me to his work, “The Seventh Voyage Of Sinbad”. (Descriptions from DeviantArt)

...

1) Concepts for the look of the Cyclops.

2) A design of the cyclops that I’m happy with. King Kong, the Ray Harryhausen cyclops and among other sources, served as inspiration for this guy. 

3) A basilisk based on this depiction: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Basilisk_aldrovandi.jpg 

4) A collection of mythical beasts such as: the chimera, a pair of cyclops (fighting over a meal), a griffin, a harpy, a unicorn and a basilisk. For the story, it’s about a bunch of explorers going on an adventure to a island inhabited by various creatures from mythology. Inspiration being King Kong, the Sinbad films by Ray Harryhausen, among others. 

5) Illustrations of a few scenes I have in my head:  - Harpy attack. - A mad unicorn rocking a log bridge w/ some unfortunate people who are hanging onto deer life. A nod to King Kong. - Valley/pit of snakes that pick off the crew. Inspired by this: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=B3OjfK0t1XM, as I feel it would make for a good action sequence for a fantasy story.   - As two crew members set sail the cyclops follows them out to the ridge’s edge. 

6) In this 1st draft of the idea/story I had in mind it was to starts off w/ a grand wedding on a supposed abandoned/uninhabited island out in the Mediterranean Sea. Not long after the preparations and everything is finally set up and the event is to commence, a terrible cyclops interrupts the ceremony. Going in for an easy meal initially, but quickly decides on going after the bride and claiming her for himself as his prize. Carrying her off deep into cyclops territory near the centre of the island. Being charmed by her pretty face and lovely dress. Others of his kind would also find this quality alluring and to their fancy. Even going as far as to try and take her from him. Their marital partner by now, along w/ the aid of an Sinbad-adventurer/jungle explorer type, would venture forth to retrieve the snatched bride. Based off some earlier artwork of mine from years back (can be found in my DeviantArt gallery: https://www.deviantart.com/artmakerproductions/art/Clash-Of-The-Cyclops-725451173) that had an aged/old man cyclops and a younger cyclops that was still in their prime. 

7) A rough storyboard concept for the introduction of the explorer/adventurer-type character. Here she can see the cyclops w/ the bride in hand from up on the mountainside. The idea for the story (at the moment) has her already on the island, maybe by a week or so, and helps out w/ the rescue mission. Why she's even there in the first place is because she's on a search for the elusive 'cave of untold riches' said to be somewhere on the island. A lifelong goal she's had for years now. 8) A bunch of concept sketches for a dragon. 

9) Dark Thorn: A reclusive sorcerer who lives a secluded life on the island. Using a cave (far out of the reach of the creatures of the island) as his living quarters. Hardly ever ventures out unless it’s for gathering ingredients for his spells or food and water. His only companion is a brown bat. Crystals embedded in his staff are where he draws his power from. Which he uses to assist himself in walking as he is very weak in the legs, practically crippled, and needs to keep it in hand. Otherwise he risks collapsing/falling over. Despite his appearance, crabby and somewhat dry attitude, he is not that bad of a guy. Even going as far as to aid the characters in their retrieval of the kidnapped bride. So a bit of history for some context. Waaaay back in 2017, I created the character "Dark Thorn", who has shown up from time to time in the past (ex. www.deviantart.com/artmakerpro…). This being a redesign/repurpose of that character. 

Cyclops & the Bride: The Cyclops climbs up the rocky mountainside to it's lair w/ the annoyed kidnapped bride in his hands thinking to herself, "This is bullsh*t." Grows a fondness for the beauty in white. 

Chimera: The myth, the legend, it's the Chimera. Used as a guard dog by another inhabitant of the island, the one who sent the cyclops to retrieve the bride, to keep intruders and the other beasts of the island out. She's pretty pissed a majority of the time. But then again, I'm sure anyone would be pissed if they were chained up 24/7 for years and years. Would get released by the characters as a diversion, and would go on to kill her enslaver as payback. 

10) Various concept sketches of the explorer/adventurer character. From the top to bottom, it started off as a guy before I decided on it being a woman.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 54

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Things somehow weren't exactly awkward between Ruby and I now that she knew how I felt and I knew she felt something back. Somehow we were still able to work closely together. I suppose that was what she meant by just needing more time. She was just worried and confused about Jaune. Which I understood.

I was still laying awake at night confused about my feelings for Jaune myself. So I wasn't exactly casting stones at her about it. Plus she promised she'd be ready to return my feelings eventually. So it was not like she'd rejected my emotions. She just needed a moment to breath.

I could deliver her that. I would deliver her that. She deserved that from me. I could be as patient as she needed me to be. I also just needed her to know. I wasn't going to be able to hide it from her forever.

Maybe things would be different if what had happened with Jaune was different. If whatever happened at Haven hadn't happened. It hurt that Ruby and I still didn't know for sure what I felt about it. My upbringing wasn’t one that led me to be in touch with my emotions.

I knew where Blake and Yang and Qrow still stood on the issue. They saw him as a traitor who turned on us. Blake in particular likened him to Adam, her own ex who eventually turned on her ideals of what the White Fang should be.

And it wasn't like Jaune wasn't a killer. He was. But had he crossed the line into being addicted to murder to solve his problems was the key question. Because Yang was a killer too and nobody doubted her. Blake, too, had killed during her stint in the White Fang and she was above suspicion. It was then just a question of whether he killed when the situation called for it or if he killed because he felt like it.

It was a scary thought and the image of him kicking one of Don Corneo's men in the head replayed in my mind over and over again.

It depended on what had happened to him at Haven, didn't it? Ruby, I knew, was still holding out for the best, whatever that may be. And in my heart I coveted the same thing. I wanted Jaune to be innocent. Even if it meant something horrible had happened to him. Perhaps that was cruel of me. Perhaps it was hopeful of me. Perhaps it was a lot of things of me.

"You mentioned you were attacked in Argus, right Ruby?" I asked her as she reclined on her bed and read from her comics.

Her hair looked good in the early morning light of Atlas as she kicked her feet up like a schoolgirl. She was adorable to watch.

"These blonde, blue eyed girls," she nodded. She looked over at me, her eyes were little silver mirrors. The light of dawn rebounded around and off of them.

"Did you catch any of their semblances?" I asked.

"The one I fought had this blue and red being that fought with her. It made her attacks stronger. Oscar and Qrow fought one which had a violet lightning semblance that made her faster, I think."

"That sounds a lot like Jaune's Limit Breaker. Doesn't it?"

"Maybe…"

"Is it possible that they are his sisters."

"Maybe. They might be the right age for it. But…"

"But then they should have known we didn't have the relic, if they were working for Salem, that is."

Who were those girls that attacked my friends in Argus? We'd talked about it a little before now and their powers were not dissimilar to Jaune's but they were after the relic. Something they should have known we didn't have. We'd talked about it as a group a little. I was curious about it a little more.

And they were young, young enough to fit into that category of how old he'd told Ruby his sisters were. If they were in league with Salem and looking for the relic didn't that mean Jaune had to be too?

But then they should have known that we didn't have it. It made no sense unless Jaune wasn't in league with Salem.

"How could Jaune simultaneously be working with her and not?" Ruby asked. She was reaching a similar conclusion as I was. She was always a little clever.

She also understood people preternaturally. She had a sixth sense about it. I wouldn't be surprised if she was able to pick people out of a line up based on their semblances. She was a powerful empath. Not as strong as Ren had been who's semblance had been tied to emotions, but she was good.

The power of aura gave her a supernatural sense of the emotions of those around her. It was why I'd abandoned trying to hide what I felt for her. She'd have been able to feel it eventually.

Something was afoot when it came to Jaune, something worrying. I knew she was thinking it too.

"You're thinking about Jaune, aren't you Weiss."

"A little," I confessed. "I don't understand what happened."

"You and me both." She put her comics down. She walked over and traced her hands through my hair. It felt nice so I leaned into her touch and let out a contented hum. "Blake doesn't believe us about him."

"She never got to meet him in Mistral," I defended. "She may know Adam but she never saw the new Jaune."

"Their semblances are concerning to me. If they're similar then they are similar," Ruby murmured. "They have to be, that scares me."

"That doesn't have to be a bad thing like she thinks. There were things about Adam that she herself used to like and souls are complicated business," I tried to refute. "Semblances are confusing and Jaune's is hardly the only one I've seen where the user has to stand still. I stand nearly still while I’m doing summonings."

She rubbed her face in my hair and laid on top of me in the bed. I turned around and put an arm around her and squeezed her close to me. She sighed as I did and we laid together on my bed.

I stroked her pretty red and black hair and she burrowed into the crook of my arm. Her little hourglass shape fit snuggly next to mine and I kissed her forehead. I just lay there stroking her and staring at her. It was a comforting moment, unbroken by interruptions and I had the pleasure of just staring at her as she rested with her eyes closed.

In that moment it didn't much feel like she was leading me on. It felt like that promise that she would be ready to return my feelings. One day, soon, she would be ready to give back to me what I wanted from her. She gave me a light blush and returned me a sigh.

I would miss this. If anything happened, losing moments like this would break my cold lonely heart.

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We met up in the briefing room and I saw Winter again. She was working on a data pad with a rough sketch of Atlas's newest hostile person of interest. Cloud Strife. I thought the sketch looked roughly familiar. Around the eyes and the bridge of the nose, maybe. The spiky hair and diamond piercings looked like no one I had ever met, however. He had a Mistrali look to him in the sketch as well.

"Still working on Cloud Strife, I see."

"Indeed. He burned down a building recently and killed thirty people. They were all gang members but still, murder is murder." Winter sighed. "He's working with Neapolitan and getting involved with the local gangs. It breathes of Roman Torchwick which is more than a touch concerning. The last thing Atlas needs is someone stirring the gangs up and mixing the pot."

"We've killed gang members too, " I muttered. "We got involved in the local mafia infighting in Mistral."

"Yeah, ever heard of Don Corneo. We killed some of his men," Yang followed me up.

"Killing in the line of duty isn't the same as murder." Winter shot us down. "What you went through is a tragedy in the course of securing the maidens and the relics. It isn't the same as gang warfare over drugs and prostitution."

Yang just shrugged like she couldn't really bring herself to believe it. I hadn't killed anyone and couldn't really speak to it.

"Perhaps you require counseling. You are young," Winter murmured softly.

"I don't need to see a shrink," Yang said.

"It's hardly anything to be ashamed of. I had to attend counseling when I was younger and killed for the first time," Winter confessed. "It's part of what we do. We all go through it. There are trained professionals to help us handle it. It's part of military life, at least in the Atlas military. Though perhaps you are handling it better than most. This is the first I'm hearing about it." She gave me an interested look.

"I've never killed. It was my job to torture the Don for information," I told her. "It was Jaune's operation."

"Perhaps more concerning than I thought. Torture and the turncoat. Perhaps I should prescribe you therapy. Torture is often as traumatic for the torturer as for the victim."

"I'm doing just fine, thank you," I instead insisted. "Don Corneo was a disgusting waste and I have no regrets."

"I see…" I could tell she was still worried in her distant way. I embraced the feeling of my older sibling's worry. It was oddly nice to bask in. I wasn't sure what Ruby was always complaining about. I was just glad she wasn't offering me therapy for Jaune.

I wasn't sure how to handle that odd ball of feelings and I didn't want to talk about them with some stranger. Plus I was sure that almost no matter what the topic was our problem child would probably come up. Even if it was just discussing torturing the Don.

Winter flickered over some other images on her data pad. It was two way so I couldn't help but see.

"Is that… Tyrian?" I asked.

"You know this person?" Winter asked. "He was a known mass murderer."

She reversed the image on the data pad for me.

I nodded. "He was in Mistral. He's the Scorpion faunus I told you about. The agent of Salem."

"I see." Winter scrolled through her report. "I was only just beginning to look at this statement regarding him. It appears he is a prospect for the description you provided. Scorpion faunus, claw like weapons, a metallic prosthesis for a tail. He's a match."

I stared at the photograph of Tyrian with blood at the corner of his lips. He was still smiling with a faint grin on his mouth and in his eyes.

"He's dead?" I asked, I examined the image. I'd fought him in Mistral. He was incredibly fast. And he fought with all of his five limbs in play. It made for a difficult opponent. He was easily the most dangerous enemy I had ever faced in real combat.

"He is. He was killed by Cloud Strife. Or someone with a similar weapon. Most likely him, however. A broadsword, to the chest. A mass murderer like Tyrian Callows would have been bad for Strife's business and that of his allies. He intervened and cut off Salem's influence at the knees."

"Strife is that dangerous?" Yang asked. "Who would have thought?"

"Indeed, Strife is making quite the name for himself and he's proving near impossible to catch with Neapolitan working for him. She's an illusionist and talented at that." Winter replied. "We don't even have a good image of him."

"A broadsword…" I murmured. I tried to connect it with the familiar portrait of Cloud Strife. It was possible, however unlikely, that Jaune did this. Tall, blonde hair, and blue eyes. If nothing else Jaune was similar to Strife. Winter had my description of Jaune, though. I was sure that if it was him, then she'd be closing the noose on him already. For good or for ill.

"What's the mission today?" Ruby asked. Maybe she was thinking the same thing I was and wanted the conversation to move along. Or maybe she was just genuinely asking.

"Grimm in a dust mine near where Amity is being repaired. You're being teamed up with the Ace Ops to clear them out."

"Anything special or just an infestation in general," Blake took the mission dossier from Winter and began to read. I got my own copy and started to leaf through it.

"There's been reports of a rather old giest. It is something to be wary of when you go in," Winter answered. "The classified nature of this mission is what calls for you all. It could be relatively minor and not worth all your skills. Or it could prove necessary."

I read through and looked at the map of the dust mines. It was entirely possible things could get rough in there with no means of supplying one another with quick aid.

"And this is close to where Amity is being worked on," I asked.

"It's nearby. As you can see we'll be dropping you all in. So have a landing strategy prepared."

"This dust mine… it belongs to the Schnee corporation." Blake murmured. She met my eye.

I looked through the dossier and found what she was looking at.

"It used to. It was seized by Atlas under imminent domain," my sister returned. "And it was promptly closed. We couldn't afford leaks about what's going on with Amity and we needed the space."

"And all that untouched dust will be needed for the first phase of the tower's launch," Clover continued for Winter. "Atlas huntsmen are already at work clearing out the surrounding tundra but that Giest evaded destruction and took refuge in the mines; it also took several lives. It's smart. It's old. It's dangerous. The works."

"The mines are an absolute maze from all the excavation they did back in the day. There's all kinds of tunnels it can move between. So, if we're going to kill this thing, we're going to have to split up and corner it. Pin it down, then drop the hammer on it," Clover continued.

I nodded at him while he projected a map of the mines for us. It had one enormous chamber and a series of off-shooting tunnels.  

"We need to get this done before any of the other workers or soldiers get hurt. Any questions?" He finished crisply.

I closed the dossier. We had none.

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With the help of Ace Ops destroying the giest was easy enough. They cornered it in the largest chamber and picked away at its body. To tell the truth it didn't seem like Ace Ops needed much of our help. They were all fast and strong and they operated well as a team. It made me a little jealous. Sure we worked well together, but that well? Perhaps not.

We exited the mine all together and soldiers rushed in behind us to start to secure the place and start getting dust unloaded and ready for the launch.

"Ruby, Qrow? May I speak to you both for a moment?" It was Ironwood standing by a bunch of military trucks. He'd been talking to Clover. That just left Yang, Blake, and I on an airstrip. A plane bearing the SDC logo came descending down on the strip we were on.

"So let me get this straight James." My father came striding out of the airship. His face was red with rage. I hated that look. I was it's target more than once. "In addition to this nonsensical embargo of yours crippling my business, you've also decided you have the authority to commandeer private property. When the council hears about this you will never-"

"Actually I've already informed them. As this is now the site of a classified military operation. It didn't even require a vote." Ironwood ran my father over easily.

"Didn't require a vote?!"

"You might want to brush up on council law before you lose this upcoming election, Jacques; now, I've allowed you to land here once as a courtesy. The next time won't be a friendly reception."

"Lately you seem to forget who your friends really are. I'm going to get that council seat, James and maybe then you'll…" he noticed me standing there in my new blue outfit.  "You… you roped my missing daughter into these schemes of yours too? How long has she been back in Atlas? Does Winter know about this-"

"It was my decision to leave you. It was my decision to come back. Or have you forgotten all about that?"

"If you think I'm one to forget anything, girl,  then you've misjudged the man your father is."

"Believe me, I know exactly the kind of man you are." I folded my arms over my chest and I stared my father down. He was abusive, emotionally and physically. He was a coward who ran from his own name. He had no right to talk to me that way. I wasn't his doll. Never again.

"How dare you speak to me that way, I have half a mind to-"

"Half a mind to what, Jacques?" Ironwood interrupted my father again.

My father growled and did up his sleeve. "You know, your mother was devastated when you left." I glowered up at him.  "Didn't leave her room for days. You know how she gets when she's upset."

My mother… she knew the sort of man she was marrying. On one level I felt pity for her, on the next I couldn't help but feel that she was getting what she deserved. She knew who my father was. She had to have. And she married him anyway. Still… still I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Which was what I knew my father wanted.

I felt some disgust at myself and at his emotional manipulation. He was always like this. I should have known I could never take the high road with him stooping so low.

He turned away from me and back to Ironwood. "I knew one day you would overextend your reach. I didn't come here to beg for an abandoned mine. I came here to thank you. For personally handing me the noose to hang you. You'll regret this." He turned back to me. Ruby had come up and was holding my hand. Rubbing little circles of comfort into it.

I squeezed her fingers back and she threaded hers between mine. It was small, but it was ours. No one else could take that from me.

"So these are the little friends you threw everything away for." He always reached for the low blow. He was predictable like that. Knowing that didn't make it any easier to deal with, however.

"Not friends. Family." I returned.

He stalked back to his ship past Ironwood with a growl.

I let a sigh escape me as his ship departed.  

A military vehicle pulled up in his spot and Winter popped her head out. Glaring up at father's ship.

"Winter, oh now you show up. You just missed father."

"Oh I wouldn't say I missed him," she returned. She felt rather the same about father as I did. That was healthy to know.

I was not alone.

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-WG

[luninosity]

Time for @whumptober2020 prompt 8!

The theme today is “Where’d everybody go?” - specific prompts: abandoned/isolation.

Content/warnings: Bucky trapped alone underground, starting to be afraid no one’ll rescue him this time; eventually Steve does, of course, though Bucky’s kind of shaken...minor warnings for some minor injury (broken legs), not too gruesome.

#

They’re in France, picking their way carefully through enemy territory, when Bucky triggers the trap.

 He’s on his own, covering Steve with his rifle as those ridiculous red-white-and-blue shoulders pick their way through an abandoned Hydra base. They’d been meant to raid the place; someone must’ve known they were coming. The self-destruct’s recent, only a couple of hours old, but impressively fireball-laced.

 Steve had wanted to search anyway, to look for anything useful to bring back, any scraps of information, any references to prisoners being held. Bucky had said nothing to that last one, though Steve’s eyes’d cut over to him; he’d only nodded.

 Hell, all the Howlies’ve been prisoners. Bucky’s no different. Not special.

 He’s here at this vantage point up on the low rise because he doesn’t trust Hydra not to’ve left a few foot soldiers behind, knowing Captain America’s on the way; someone needs to keep an eye out for threats Steve doesn’t see. Bucky’s watching the whole scene, the rubble, the dwindling flames. Might be some suspicious sparks. An evil gleam of metal coming out of the trees.

 Dum Dum says something to Morita, holding up a piece of lab equipment; they confer. Steve moves, steps behind a broken building, ducks out of sight.

 Bucky mutters a curse or two under his breath. Pushes himself up. Starts to adjust his position.

 He hears a sound. Almost a sound. A click or a catch—

 Steve, is his first thought; but it’s not Steve in danger, no, it’s the hillside vanishing under Bucky’s own feet, dropping away and dropping him—a goddamn Hydra booby trap, and he walked into it, he heard it but not fast enough, even as he dives for the too-far side of the crumbling hill—

 He falls. Fast, and hard, and far.

 He lands wrong and badly, and a series of sickening snaps burst through his body, his head. And the world goes black.

 He wakes up, gradually, agonizingly.

 He’s cold. And in pain. Those’re the first two realizations.

 He’s cold and in pain and alone in the dark—hurting and trapped and taken away from Steve and his men because of Hydra, all over again—and he can’t breathe, can’t make himself inhale, lungs not working, throat making small frantic airless sounds, heart slamming into his ribs—

 No, he shouts at himself. No. You’re Sergeant James Barnes, you’re in love with Steve Rogers, you’ve got a squad of good men and Captain America himself. You’ll get out of this. It’s not the same. Not like before.

 Memory whispers across his closed eyelids: his voice, raggedly mumbling, and a sharp needle sliding under his skin.

 He forces himself to breathe by thinking of Steve. Of himself, back home in Brooklyn, kneeling on the floor at Steve’s bedside on a vicious winter night. Counting Steve’s breaths: in and out, in and out.

 He does it for himself now. In. And out.

 He opens his eyes. Tries to look around.

 Everything’s dark and dim, nearly black. Bucky in fact has a vague sense that it should be all black, that he shouldn’t be able to make out the distant edges of mechanisms or tree roots. He thinks he might be able to see in the dark a little better than he used to.

 He chalks that up next to maybe a broken toe shouldn’t heal that fast and I haven’t gotten even a cold, not even when the rest of the Howlies caught that bug and were puking up their guts, ever since that room and that table on the list of things he hasn’t told Stevie and probably should. Sometime. No rush. Wouldn’t want Steve to worry.

 His rifle’s come down with him, which is good. The hillside appears to’ve sealed itself over above him, which is bad. He guesses Hydra doesn’t care too much about captured intruders running out of air. The idea’s most likely that—if the base was still operational—they’d come pick him up for interrogation or else simply let him die.

 He shouts, “Steve!” He doesn’t expect the sound to carry far, and it doesn’t. He’s pretty far down, twenty feet at least, and that’s an ominous metal plate up above.

 He’s avoided looking at his legs, so far.

 He catches his breath as pain washes over him. Steve knows his approximate location. Someone’ll come. Someone’ll notice the trap and release the catch and find him. Steve will find him.

 He lies very still, staring up at the blackness above, waiting. The pain comes in waves, building, cresting, ebbing.

 No one’s coming, not yet. He feels something sticky on the side of his face; he touches his temple. Blood, he thinks: a smoky smudge over his fingers in the dark.

 When Steve comes for him, he’ll need to be in shape to be rescued. It’s that thought that makes him struggle to sit up. To confront the ruin of his legs, snapped white bone and mangled flesh. The left one’s worse than the right; he’d landed harder on that one.

 He’s feeling dizzy. He closes his eyes again. Maybe some sort of splint, something—his jacket, his belt—

 It won’t be enough. It won’t be enough, because his legs are—and he’s bleeding so much—and when Steve finds him, he won’t be able to get up, he’ll be a liability—

 Bucky, alone in the dark, can’t quite force back the sob. Fingers pressed into dirt. Digging in, futilely.

 When Steve finds him—

 If. If Steve finds him. The possibility swims up out of the shadows along with  silent mocking laughter. It inquires, all friendly malice: you think he’ll guess what happened? He can’t hear you. No one can hear you.

 “Shut up,” Bucky snaps, aloud.

 Do you think, asks the dark, that you deserve a second miracle? That you have any right to be saved again? After you’ve already needed it once, sad little useless toy soldier that you are? Pathetic.

 It has Zola’s voice. Bucky bites his lip hard enough to taste blood there too, copper and iron as opened-up earth.

 The pit murmurs silkily: you think Steve will be happy to rescue you another time? Over and over? When he has better things to do, he’s meant for more, he’s Steve Rogers and you’re Bucky Barnes?

 “No.”

 It says: You know you keep dragging him down, holding him back. You know he resents you for it. How could he not, when you’re so needy, so helpless, so desperate to stay with him?

 “He doesn’t,” Bucky whispers. “Steve’s not—Steve’s not like that. Steve’s…”

 Gas, he wonders. Some hallucinogen. Some trick. Noises in the pit. Blood loss. This isn’t real. It isn’t true. Steve cares about him.

 Steve does care about him. Steve loves him, though they rarely say it—twice that Bucky can recall, never when anyone else can hear, always careful—they say it in touches, glances, Steve’s brush of fingertips over the back of Bucky’s neck or a sketch of Bucky napping in lazy summer sunshine on their old sagging sofa…

 The two times they’ve said the words, Bucky said it first. Once the night before he shipped out, the two of them entwined in bed, both of them thinking about the cold grey light of dawn. Once the first time Steve slipped into his tent after saving him the last time, and Bucky’d felt so shaken and raw and unlike himself, and he’d just needed to say it, to cling to Steve and say it as Steve held him and made him feel good and reminded him how to feel good…

 Steve had whispered it back, into his hair, holding him.

 Steve’s never said it first. Only when Bucky needs it—when Bucky needs him, needs saving…

 What if Steve doesn’t come for him now?

 Steve will want to, he believes—Steve doesn’t abandon people. Against the law of that big golden leonine heart. But that doesn’t mean Steve will come.

 Steve might not find him. Might give up. Might have to make a tactical decision, if there’re other booby traps around. Might not keep trying.

 Steve might finally, this time, at last and inevitably, consider this an acceptable if painful loss, and move on.

 Bucky’s fingers are cold. He’s cold all over. He doesn’t know how long he’s been down here, in the dark.

 He whispers, “Steve?” And then he whispers the names of his squad, he shouts their names, all of them, one by one: but no one answers. Nothing changes.

 His legs still hurt but something’s starting to feel different. He doesn’t look.

 He tries to think. To plan. If no one’s coming, what can he do? He’s got a rifle and his coat and spare ammunition and some field rations in a pouch, enough for a day, or four if he stretches them out. He knows that the pit’s mostly dirt with some metal gears and slabs, covering the roof and part of the sides, making them too slick to scale.

 It’s not an insurmountable problem, surely. He’s good at angles and aim and calculations. He can figure this out. He can get back to Steve, and go right on watching Steve’s back, and nothing has to change.

 He eyes the walls. Is digging possible? Under or around the metal?

 Hydra would’ve thought of that. Anyway, moving’s tricky.

 Shooting something, a gear or lever? Maybe. Might bring the whole place down, though.

 He pictures being covered by an avalanche of metal and dirt, being buried by it and smothered slowly by it; and then he has to stop thinking about it and make himself breathe again.

 His right knee itches. He scratches it absentmindedly.

 His fingers come away tacky with blood, and for a split second his stomach lurches and he’s afraid he might be sick, but then he makes himself stop and take it in.

 His knee looks like a knee. A little misshapen, twisted, smeared with dull red under the shreds of his pant leg, but healed over. Closed up. No bone visible at all. The shape of it shifts more as he watches: closer to normal, less bent.

 He swallows hard. Forces himself to look more.

 His lower leg’s healing too, putting itself back together. He can see it; he stares, fascinated in a gruesome way. Bones and muscles and veins knitting, repairing, weaving. Blood pumping. It’s almost pretty, in a churning awful way. The left leg’s doing it too, not fast but obviously on its way.

 So, he thinks, half-hysterically; so, I was right about the whole not getting sick part, look at that, look at me; and he laughs helplessly, and then he puts an arm over his face and lets himself cry, quietly, coming apart as his body fixes itself.

 He stops crying at some point. He curls up in the dark with his rifle, because he can do that now, he can move, though his legs feel weak and won’t hold him yet.

 How long’s it been? Minutes? Hours? Days? Enough time that he’s got ankles again. His head doesn’t hurt, either, at least not physically. It probably should. His hand had been very wet, earlier, touching there.

 He shuts his eyes and sees the table, the injections, the self-satisfied cruel curl of a smile—

 That was then. This is now. He’s not there. He’s here.

 But here is there, here is right back in a Hydra trap, here is knowing he’s been changed somehow, he’s something different somehow, and no one’ll save him and no one’s coming, because why would they? Even if they could find him, why would they want him back? Someone altered and made different, someone with this secret…even if they don’t know the secret, he’s still a problem, in need of care and rescue…

 Steve looks at him sometimes as if afraid, as if worried, as if Bucky’s fragile and damaged…and of course Steve’s right, of course Bucky’s not good enough…but that’s always been true, Bucky Barnes’ ordinary little loves of comics and science fiction and sunshine in Steve’s hair could never be enough for the real Steve, Steve who would take on the world if he could and make it better through sheer force of will…

 But Steve’s needed him, sometimes. Once or twice. A shot defending Steve’s six. A scouting mission with important information. That’s mattered, hasn’t it?

 If he can get out, he can get back to Steve. He can try to go on being useful. He can lift his rifle and protect Steve and love Steve, silently, hopelessly, and that’ll be enough, if he’s allowed that much. He’ll take it. Please. Just that. He won’t ask for more.

 He can sit up easily now. He can stand, with one hand braced on the wall of the pit. He hobbles around it, pacing, testing. He thinks the light’s dimmed even more; nighttime, maybe?

 He eyes the dirt, and the metal panes above. If he can gouge some handholds into it—

 Something shakes. Dirt moves. The metal above wobbles.

 Is someone here? The Commandos, or Hydra, or—Steve? Someone?

 Bucky sucks in air, yells, “Hey!” and scrabbles around for a rock. Throws it, hard and accurate, a fastball. It clangs off metal and drops back.

 More shaking happens. Excitement. Voices? Maybe? Indistinct, they’re hard to make out. They move away and return.

 A whole lot of dirt starts sliding in. Walls collapsing. Whatever they’re doing up there, it’s making his pit unstable.

 “You’re not helping!” Bucky yells upward. They kind of are, though. At least they’re trying.

 Metal creaks and groans. Being battered. Bending under an onslaught. More clanging sounds boom, the kind made by angry apprehensive vibranium being wielded by angry apprehensive muscles.

 The top of his pit screams and shrieks and breaks open. A metal sheet and half a tree clatter downward; Bucky swears and dives out of the way, and narrowly avoids snapping a reconstructed ankle in the process.

 A whirlwind of heroic passion plunges down through dirt to land beside him. “Bucky!”

 “Oh, hey,” Bucky manages, coughing, through dust and the strange aching sensation in his own chest. Maybe that’s only breathing. Oxygen. Fresh air. “Nice of you to drop in.”

 “Bucky—” Steve’s hands reach for him, but falter; Steve’s eyes are wide and blue and abruptly scared, raking over his body. “Bucky, don’t move, don’t—you’re hurt, you’re bleeding—how bad—” He cuts himself off to shout up, “Throw us a med kit, something, anything, but hurry—” Back to Bucky: “That’s—there’s so much—don’t try to move, Buck, don’t try to get up—your head, your legs—”

 Steve’s hands shake. Steve’s voice shakes. Steve’s face is pale, horrified, trying not to panic. “Don’t look at it, Buck, don’t look down, just look at me, keep looking at me—”

 “ ’M fine.” Bucky pushes himself up. Sees Steve’s expression snap from terrified to uncomprehending. “Really, Steve, I swear. Just kinda bled a lot.”

 “You…” Steve’s hand hovers over his shoulder. “You’re…okay? But—you look…”

 “Head wounds,” Bucky attempts, “they get messy, Steve, you know that.” His hip’s sore because he landed on that; he rubs it gingerly as the soreness drains away.

 The sky’s dark blue, not black, and speckled with stars and ringed with trees, above. Only about an hour, then. Not longer. Just a small amount of time. So small.

 A medical kit and a rope come flying down, and worried Commando faces appear at the rim of the pit. They cheer, seeing Bucky’s wave. Steve waves up too, belatedly.

 “So,” Bucky tries, “want to get out of here? Hey, how’d you know where to look?”

 “I knew you were up on that hill.” Steve’s eyebrows have that tight furrow between them, the one that means he’s trying to work something out. “And then you stopped answering. And when I got there the ground looked wrong. We guessed it was some kind of trap, just had to work out how it opened and where the weak point was. Are you sure you’re—”

 “I’m great, except for the whole bein’ dropped into a pit part.” He starts to get up; Steve dives in to steady him, arm going around him. Bucky doesn’t admit to being grateful for the touch, the anchor, the reality; he doesn’t cry, either, just says, “It’s okay, Stevie, I’m okay, let’s go before Dum Dum decides to throw anything else at us—oh, grab that med kit, we shouldn’t leave it—”

 “Bucky,” Steve starts, but then shakes his head: practicality first, getting them out first. “Come on, here, I got you…”

 They make it out, courtesy of ropes and supersoldier muscles and a shield for leverage. They make it back to their camp, gingerly: Bucky has to reassure everyone that he’s fine, that he’s not hurt, that he’s willing to joke and laugh and take goodnatured ribbing about being a sniper who can’t see a trap under his own feet. He nods and grins and takes steps on his rebuilt feet, which none of them know about, under the stars.

 He jokes along. He laughs. He accepts the teasing.

 Steve stays at his side as they walk. Steve looks at him as if wanting to say something, as if uncertain, as if not knowing how. Bucky’s never known Steve to be afraid of jumping into messy situations before. But Steve is now, because of him.

 He’s not really hungry, even though there’s Morita’s stew. He makes himself eat a few bites, being there, being part of the squad. He listens to a summary of what they’ve found—some equipment, some notes, stuff they’ll send back for study—and nods along. He wants to change; he’s wrapped in a blanket because his clothes are likely unsalvageable. Those don’t appear to be self-healing.

 He’s trying to figure out how to tell them all he’s tired and could use some rest, when Steve’s hand lands on his shoulder, and Steve says, “I know you’re okay, I just kinda think I should make sure, y’know? Want to let me take a look?”

 Bucky’s bones hurt, not physically. He’s exhausted, empty, whittled down to nothing. But it’s Steve, so he says sure, the way he always will if Steve needs reassurance.

 The Howlies, rather surprisingly, only nod and grin and elbow each other but don’t say much. Bucky’s not sure whether they’ve guessed he’s in love with Steve and they just don’t mind, or whether Steve’s impressed them all enough that they’d follow him regardless of anything. They’ve never mentioned a word about him and Steve sharing a tent.

 The firelight brushes his back, as he moves away from the heat.

 In their tent the world’s quiet and lamplit and anxious. Steve’s set out bandages and cloths, but hesitates. “You don’t…need much of this.”

 “No,” Bucky says hastily. “No, Steve, I’m good.”

 “I just…” Steve exhales. His shoulders droop a fraction. The shield’s leaning on his pack, in the corner where he’s set it down. “Can I at least…help clean this up? Some of this…” His fingers touch Bucky’s temple, Bucky’s neck.

 Bucky, who’d sort of forgotten about the head injury, has to remember; and then nods.

 A muscle in Steve’s jaw jumps; but he only finds a cloth and some water, and comes back over. “Tell me if anything hurts, okay?”

 It won’t and it will. Bucky nods again.

 Steve flinches as if the nod’s been a blow, and squares his shoulders. Picks up damp cloth, and touches it to Bucky’s temple.

 Slowly, gradually, under low golden light, the blood washes away. Under Steve’s touch. Cleaned from Bucky’s skin.

 He strips off his jacket and shirt and even pants when Steve asks to see him. He stands laid bare and exposed because Steve’s asked. He glances down and over to the side, where he’s set his torn-up boots. They’ll need stitching.

 Steve’s hand draws back. The water in the bowl’s pinker and grittier now, from red and dirt. “Bucky…”

 “I’m okay,” Bucky promises immediately. “Nothing’s hurting, Stevie, I swear.”

 “Would you tell me if it was?”

 “You asked me to, right?”

 “Yeah, but…” Steve’s eyes do that complicated wince again, some sort of tangle of summer-storm emotion. “Buck…oh, Jesus, Bucky. I can’t—I just can’t—God, I couldn’t find you and I thought—”

 “It’s okay.” Bucky puts both arms around him. “Hey, punk, I’m still here, you came and got me.”

 “How many times…” Steve’s voice cracks. “How many times do I have left? Before someday I can’t—before it’s too much, before you hate me, before I can’t save you enough and I’m not there when you need me—so much blood, Buck, when I saw you, it was—I thought you were—”

 “I know what you thought.” Bucky rubs his back, the way he’d done when they were kids, when Stevie was small enough to hold and fierce enough to punch anyone who wasn’t Bucky for trying it. “I know, Steve. But it wasn’t that, okay? It’s not.”

 “I can’t lose you,” Steve whispers. His face is buried in Bucky’s hair, words landing against Bucky’s ear. “I can’t do this without you. Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.”

 “I won’t. I never will. I promise, Stevie. You and me, right? To the end of the line.”

 Steve lets out a broken half-sobbing sort of noise and clutches him, and then pulls back to look him square in the eyes, and says, earnest as a vow, “I love you, Bucky.”

 Bucky, shocked, can’t answer. That’s not real. Is it?

 Steve’s expression crumples. Despair tattering all flags and banners. “I love you, and—and sometimes I think—you wouldn’t even be here if not for me, you could’ve gone home, you could’ve been safe…how can you even look at me, Jesus, everything I ask of you…everything, since we were fuckin’ kids, and I know it’s not fair to you, it’s never been fair…just keep hoping maybe if I love you enough it’ll make up for at least some of the shit I’ve dragged you through, but it doesn’t, it never does, it’s not enough, is it.”

 “You…love me,” Bucky repeats.

 “You don’t believe me.”

 “I do. I just—” He can’t think. He presses fingers between his eyes. “Of course I fucking love you, Steve. I’m head over goddamn heels in love with you. I’m sorry, my head’s fucking splitting in half.”

 Steve swears, short and self-castigating. “Shit—sorry—of course you should rest, come here, lie down—you want water, something—”

 “No. But could you…” He breathes in, gathers courage. For himself, for Steve. “Stay with me? So I can touch you? Hold onto me, kinda.”

 “Oh, Buck.” Steve’s voice wobbles. “Yeah, of course—of course I will, I’m here.” And he does: stripping off his own shirt, grabbing a blanket, lying down right there with Bucky, gathering Bucky close, folding their bodies together. “This okay?”

 “Good,” Bucky answers automatically, and then thinks about that answer for a minute. Steve’s large and solid and real. Steve’s imperfect and scared and afraid of not being enough. Bucky’s also imperfect and scared and afraid of not being enough, so maybe they’re on the same page with that one, like a mirror image, sort of.

 Steve’s hands are warm against his skin. Steve’s heartbeat’s fast and concerned and audible where Bucky’s head’s come to settle against his chest. The bed’s uncomfortable in a familiar way, the way they both know. The tent’s hushed, and lamplight’s found its way into every corner, banishing shadows for the moment.

 They’re both here. Whatever else happens, whatever comes, they’re here. They’re not alone.

 He doesn’t want to be alone, to feel alone. He wants Steve here with him.

 He doesn’t mention uncannily healing injuries, or seeing in the dark, or the way he can’t quite find equilibrium, as if something’s shaken out of true, made unrecognizable deep inside. If he’s off-balance Steve can be his balance; if Steve needs an anchor Bucky can be that.

 And they won’t be alone. Right?

 He whispers, “I love you, punk. Just makin’ sure you know.” He’s got an arm around Steve’s waist, where they’re clinging to each other: still mostly dressed and. He tightens the hold. “Not going anywhere.”

 “Good,” Steve mutters into his hair. “Good…so…okay. Okay, I’m not either. You’re here and I’m here and I fucking love you. Jerk. Bucky. Don’t fucking disappear like that, ’cause I can’t—just don’t, all right?”

 “Blame Hydra and their love of dumbass supervillain booby traps. You’ll find me, anyway.”

 “Always,” Steve promises, “always, Buck, I’ll always come for you,” and Bucky holds onto him, holds him, and lets himself listen to the words.

[froggisarethebest]

So here’s a Coops headcanon i’ve had on my mind for a while so i hope you enjoy (lol it’s kinda long but yeah :] hope you guys like it)

these are based from Sweater Weather by @lumosinlove

It’s been a little more than a year since the whole coming out shit went down

and they’re out and proud and so very happy AND living with eachother

(yes ofc they moved in together and Remus might or might’ve not CLAIMED the right side of the bed not even two minutes after he moved in)

and this one day after practice, Sirius is just sitting there waiting for Remus to finish up for the day and usually Remus doesn’t take this long but they have a game a couple of days so he’s just preparing

and Sirius is just constantly sighing and looking at Remus with a small frown pretending to be annoyed (ofc he isn’t tho bc we know he is physically unable to do so) bc honestly he just wants to get home and eat pizza and cuddle while they watch a movie and do other stuff

ANYWAYS

Sirius is just scrolling through twitter watching random stuff when all of a sudden he runs into this small add

just really small but it catches his eyes and he opens the link and he just stares at his phone

it’s an add for a rescue place nearby that rescues puppies and cats and other abandoned animals on the streets

and Sirius is just staring and staring at this particular dog that according to the add is 3 years old and a mix of who knows what

and apparently they just rescued it from this guy who had it chained outside since it was a puppy and it says in the description the dog has a lot of trust issues and is really shy but it doesn’t matter to Sirius bc

HE JUST FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS BLACK DOG and he’s just staring and he doesn’t even notice when Remus comes from behind him to tell him they can go home now.

“ I want this dog”

“ what are you talking about???”

and Sirius shows Remus the add and they talk all about it on their way home and while having dinner and Remus is a little sketch about it bc “who is going to take care of it when we travel?? or what about when we are at practice??”

both of them keep discussing the best options to have the dog and finally Sirius promises Remus he will figure everything out and so Remus agrees

and then they spend the next week just preparing and buying stuff and “Sirius i don’t think the dog needs that many beds”

“ but this one is blue and the other one is for the living room and this one for..”

“ Babe”

“fine. these two then”

Sirius is the one who picks the name. Pick, bc ofc he’s that big of a hockey nerd

they get to the rescue place and Sirius is all nervous and Remus finds it so adorable and he just reaches across the car seat “ the dog’s gonna love you”

“ what if he hates us”

“ you bought him the best stuff and we don’t even have it but it’s already so spoiled i don’t think he will even think about not loving you”

Sirius smiles and turns his head around so he can kiss Remus

a lady is already at the front desk when they enter the small building and they can just hear the cries and barking of the dogs and Remus just looks around and he’s lowkey getting emotional hearing them cry

“ the black one right?” the lady asks and she has the papers out and Sirius is just signing them when Remus turns around and he just

he freezes bc there’s this medium dog that is the only one that’s not barking and he’s missing one of his front limbs but it’s just sitting there awckwardly staring at where Remus and Sirius are

and Remus just tries to ignore it but the little white dog is looking straight at him

Remus is momentarily distracted by another lady who comes out of another room holding the black dog and Remus feels Sirius reaching for his hand in excitement but Remus can’t stop sneaking glances at the other dog who is now staring right at the black dog with a sad face

the first lady notices Remus staring at the dog and she goes “ we found that one the same day as this black one” she says “we had to amputate his front leg because he had broken it pretty bad, maybe in a dog fight but these two had been pretty inseparable ever since”

and Remus just nods and looks down and then at Sirius who is holding the dog’s leash and already looking at him and they share a look but Sirius just smiles widely

“ luckyly we did buy an extra bed” it’s all Sirius says before Remus launches into him and hugs him

he quickly steps back and turns towards the lady

“ can we take a closer look to that one?” Remus asks

the lady smiles and nods and as they approach the cage the doggy starts getting more and more excited and he’s waggling his tail and all of a sudden Remus hears an “oof” coming from a Sirius who was walking behind him with the other dog

and moves aside just in time to see the black dog lietrally drag Sirius until they’re in front of the smaller dog’s cage

and both dogs and crying at eachother and waggling their tails

they get home pretty late bc of the extra paperwork and having to stop for more dog food and plates and toys but when thy finally make it back Remus is hal’s asleep on his seat and Sirius softly smiles as he reaches out to gently wake him up

“waz ‘appening??”

“shhhh look”

Remus opens his eyes and look to where Sirius is pointing and turn around just in time to see the two dogs snuggling on the back seat sleeping

“ you never said what you wanted to name him” Sirius says

Remus just shakes his head bc honestly he doesn’t know and it just the first thing in his mind when he says “Orion”

“ like the star?”

“ yeah”

“ great name”

Remus laughs and as he says, “ well not like it will top Puck, you hockey nerd”

And they stay like that laughing in the car until they wake the dogs up

and that’s the story of how Puck and Orion joined the family

[amintyworld]

Oh! Oh! For the mutual thing, in relating to tss, who would be a light side and who would be a dark side? Would any of them kinda be like Virgil who changed sides? Or maybe opposite? If you wanna go further, what would they represent too?

Alright Anon, I hope you know you inspired something amazing. Mutuals, I have here Sanders Sides OCs with each and every one of you in mind, including Icons (which is why this took a while to finish). Anyway, I hope you enjoy them and feel free to draw or write with them, and maybe come up with some ideas or designs for my own (Because I couldn't figure out a good fit to make a OC for me). Here we go, and I hope you guys enjoy! <3

Let's start out with the creativity twins (Two sides of creativity):

@h-ad3s - Instinct (Dark Side)

• Instinct represents the wild, spontaneous side of creativity - like painting or writing your feelings out, when you do something just because you want to.

• Very Impulsive at times, and because of their reckless nature can get the (what do you call it? Thomas part?) 'Thomas' in trouble a lot, leading to everyone pegging them as a dark evil troublemaker

• As with their twin, Instinct can turn into a animal at will - theirs is a raccoon.

• Found late at night rummanaging through or sleeping in garbage. 'Why, Inst? You have a bed!' 'Because. The funny smells calm me, plus I wanted to.'

• Has eaten glitter, glue, bar soap, and even a ceramic mug (No one knows how they ate the mug to this day.)

• But, when feeling sad or someone else is sad, they usually are found in raccoon form cuddled up in Protection or Imagination's lap, sleeping.

@dee-ree-vee - Passion (Light Side)

• Passion represents the creating for creation's sake side of creativity. They create not based solely on emotion, but because it brings them happiness to create. Passion represents just happiness and drive for any hobby, and the drive to improve. As well as, you guessed it, passion in Relationships as well - weather it be platonic, familial, or romantic.

• Despite being told to stay away from Instinct because they're dangerous, and that they were the 'better creativity', they still try to chat and connect with them because of their past closeness feeling like family.

• They can turn into a cat at will like Instinct, and usually use the form to sneak out and meet Instinct in the 'Creativescape', a middle between the darkscape and the mindscape, where they are crowned ruler.

• They love free time of any kind, and enjoy the constant creative drive with weekends or holiday breaks, and are usually the ones who come up with gift ideas or little surprises for Friends, Family, or SOs.

• Can get overwhelmed by expectations of always doing things right and never making a mistake, in that way being slightly jealous of their twin.

• Their favorite thing to do is help make dreams with Imagination and fight off nightmares, sometimes even Instinct joining to help.

@lightyagamisqueen - Protection (Dark side)

• Protection represents Fight or Flight as well as Anxiety, but also white lies at times to take the pain away, to protect. The lies leading them to become a Dark Side.

• Has a very hard time relaxing, leading them to get burnout quite often from their overly taxing job, and Instinct, being the only other Dark Side and who knew them well would always be there to comfort when it all became a bit too much, or when Protection was so emotionally tired they broke down and cried.

• Likewise, Protection knew Instinct too well to always be there to hug and hold closely when they felt so abandoned and alone, even confessing to them once they wish they could stop the impulses but it hurts them physically to do so, and Instinct showed them their scars.

• Protection protects and stays up often at night in the real world to protect from monsters in the closet and to hold the 'Thomas' tightly when they got too scared. They live off of coffee and redbull.

• Once didn't sleep for almost two weeks for a cram finals session, and Instinct had to help them recover.

• Cannot watch horror movies, and usually gets overly anxious and worried walking home alone at night, especially in the city.

@pastel-candies - Inner Strength (Light Side)

• Inner Strength represents Hope, and Strength to keep going when things get hard, as well as Positivity and a co-gatekeeper of emotions, the other being Inner Child. But, while Child's emotions are more fuzzy and less prominant, Inner Strength's are more intense, leading them to get very emotional at times. Also they represent ignorance, pushing bad emotions or negative thoughts away, thinking they're just getting rid of them and not realizing they're repressing.

• Has plant powers that are tied to emotions, meaning if they're happy, plants will grow around them, if they're sad or angry or upset, they turn into not just killing plants but also slightly life sucking when every other side gets close.

• Is the slightly more 'moral' one than the rest in being the one to get scared and think Instinct and Protection are being more hurtful than helpful and kick them out.

• Has their own little garden with a specific flower in their room that isn't fazed with her emotions, being infused with all the emotions that were too intense to handle, good and bad. They talk to the flower and vent when things get tricky.

• When the 'Thomas' is upset, Strength usually works with Protection sometimes when things get really low, but mostly the two switch off depending on the situation.

• Lately is having regrets and confusion over kicking the other two out, but doesn't know if inviting them back will hurt the 'Thomas'

• Is protective of Passion, Reason, and Inner Child and will do anything to make sure they're safe.

• I imagine them wearing a flower crown, I dunno-

@the-duke-of-deodorant - Reason (Light Side)

• Reason represents and helps with the process of memory and new information, as well as the leader in solving any problems, math or otherwise.

• Reason values the truth above all else and makes sure the 'Thomas' knows the truth of any situation, despite and emotions they have at the moment, leaving them and Strength to butt heads a lot.

• I picture them with a black and white checkered tie...

• Geeks/Nerds out with Passion about Star Wars, Star Trek, etc. They often binge watch many movies and shows, and.. Even have their own code?

• Tries to be there during the emotional fallout Strength gets in, and usually is talking through their door, sometimes Strength's hand sneaks out when the door opens a bit for Reason to grab.

• Teaches Child about the world, leading them to grow into a pretty stable teenager, and the two share a very familial bond.

• Doesn't really understand the whole fear of Dark Sides and visits sometimes, even once helping out Protection during their burnout.

• Is prepared - always has a first aid kit handy and helped Raccoon Instinct when they got a nail stuck in their paw and couldn't transform back.

@antisocialdragonenby - Imagination (In the Middle)

• Imagination is the main gatekeeper of all dreams and daydreams, and has complete creative control in the Creative scape, making anything they imagine in their mind come to life there.

• Could have been ruler of the Creative scape but turned it down, claiming it wasn't their style. Instead they live in a treehouse and chill.

• Probably the most calm in a crisis.

• Out of the Creative scape, they have a cloud they ride on and use for many things - spying on others, viewing past dreams, and viewing made up scenarios or dream scenarios they have, as well as just a hammock to nap on.

• Is well trained with their powers, and uses their imaginative strength to fight nightmares in the dreams that seem to be finding their ways in randomly.

• Is usually the one to go to for advice or just to rant to, closely followed by Reason. This is how they find out about everyone's problems, fears, and turmoil - like how Protection thought they were the ones who caused the nightmares, and Imagination calmly explained that it had nothing to do with them, that they just appear, and that it's their job to help.

• They're fun to hang around and go on adventures with. They like specifically going on adventures with Child, but will tag along with Passion and Instinct from time to time

And finally, @if-i-had-a-spoon - Inner Child (Light Side)

• Inner Child repesents your childish side, as well as childhood memories and emotions. They're the only and first side to grow up from a child when the 'Thomas' is a teen, to a teen when the 'Thomas' is a adult. As a result they're babied sometimes and always treated as the youngest.

• They love looking at older memories and remebering them, although they panicked, figuring out the memories faded as they got older.

• Always a fan of candy, and squeals at cute pet and baby clothes, even making small accessories and gifts for Raccoon Instinct, whom they called 'The trash gremlin' when they were a toddler, and for Cat Passion, whom they just called 'Pretty'.

• Always tries to hold onto stuff from childhood, especially the "Thomas" 's old teddy bear, which they have a copy of for comfort.

• Now, as a teen, they love to write poetry and draw little baby animal sketches, and listen to MCR.

• Responsible for reminencing during random times.

• Although they look young, they're just as capable and smart as the others, fighting for the 'Thomas' to be truly happy, and to be there for everyone, light or dark side.

• I picture them with light purple headphones...

And that's everyone! I hope you guys like them!

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

12. On Your Side

Decided to publish what I had worked on before my hiatus, mainly for Tina and nem, as a Xmas thing. Ion celebrate that shit, happy holidays or whatever. I was hoping to have completed the story by now, but with my break for mental health, I guess it's either pushed back or gonna be abandoned. Will know in a couple of weeks or so what, if anything I intend to do with it. Its an Apex centered chapter. I'm still on hiatus. You can leave a review if you want to, but don't message me about Simon or this story. Thanks.

*The Grace St. Catherine Playlist, featuring songs used in chapter and songs that inspired the chapter*

“Even through the darkest phase

Be it thick or thin

Always someone marches brave

Here beneath my skin…” Grace let the music play in the background as she tried to do all of the things suggested to her by her “spiritual advisor,” Sunny, whenever she moved into the place. She was doing more drawing - mostly sketches of carnage and rage. She was journaling a lot, mostly in the form of a narrative told by a hypothetical fictional character, because admitting to the things that she was doing on paper was a huge no-no, so she simply projected her life through her journaling character, The Saint, whom would never be referred to by name in any of the entries. In this particular one, The Saint was contemplating calling The Shadow. What would the conversation even be like? He would tell her how bad she was for being mad at him. She would tell him that she only hurt bad people, but he hurt a friend… he hurt her. That was different. So different. But she MISSED him.

She had began to sketch him. She was more of a doodler/drew cartoons and comics on her phone and stuff… but she was shut up in this place for hours at a time and hadn’t really used a pencil and a sketch book seriously in a while. Then, it got away from her. After a few days, she had almost filled up a sketch book with drawings of Simon. She winced when she thought of his name. She had been avoiding speaking it and thinking it. “And constant craving has always been…” She stared at the phone, then changed the track. The last thing she needed was to think about craving, of all things…

Now, that the phone was in her hand, she glanced around, feeling that paranoia that she had since she left home. Nobody was watching her here, but she felt obligated to check, anyway, and upon verifying what she already knew - that nobody was fucking watching her - she went to visit his social media. Private? Since when? She checked another. Same thing. A third, same fucking thing! “UGH!!!” She threw her phone onto the couch and went to go chop wood. She didn’t really like to chop wood, but it did make her feel better to swing a tool and see destruction come out of it.

“Old wounds

Old fights

Another day goes by

I'm not playing by the rules

They can't take me for no fool…” Her phone continued singing as she went outside.

.

Jalicia Barrett was not the same type of watch as Grace was. She obviously wasn’t as upscale as Grace, so she wound up having much to do that was necessary, unlike Grace’s schedule of playing a typical woman. Now, to say that Jalicia was typical would be a stretch of the imagination, as Simon knew that none of Grace’s people were that and she had possibly an unreasonable amount of tiger items, but she was closer to an average person than Grace was.

She went to Seattle University, but hadn't selected a major. She was still doing general studies after taking a few years to get her GED (She began trying at 16 and only successfully received it less than a year ago), so.. a freshman in college, which wasn't bad. She was 19. She worked on campus and seemed to have other odd jobs, like being a delivery driver or personal cab, and stuff at that Infinity Foundation place.

She didn’t have rich parents. From what Simon was able to find, she was never reunited with them, whoever they were. If they had lived in Seattle when she was taken, there was nothing on file to indicate that she was reported missing. Of course… he didn’t know what her real name was. The name Jalicia Barrett only became a name for her in the year after Grace left the mental institution. He knew that was likely connected.

Maybe… she wound up in the system after Grace touched base with them? At any rate… whoever the girl who was brought into trafficking had been, she was now Jalicia Barrett, a girl who began existing when she was 13 or 14 and obviously probably didn’t know her DOB either, as it was on record as the day that her name was given, her documents were created all around the same time, so she had to either have been a baby whenever she was taken, or simply never knew her personal information like birth date and full name.

BUT, she did have prints on file, so she probably had birth records that could be matched to them somewhere. He didn’t know if he wanted to get into that… or if she hadn’t done so herself and simply decided that life was easier being the person that she knew herself to be now. He certainly couldn’t imagine separating from his loved ones and then not finding them for a decade or so and then just… trying to pretend that they were family after all or something. She had the family she wanted… Well… she lost one. He felt bad for her. It wasn’t the same, but whenever he lost Grace, he felt like his world collapsed. To even pretend to understand how this woman must feel losing her life partner after years of being together, he wouldn’t insult her like that. Instead, he looked into the details surrounding that. Whatever happened to that investigation?

He’d provided an alibi for them and the police never spoke with him again. He’d done his best playing ignorant and pretending that everything was casual. Whenever they asked him about Heath, he said that he didn’t know Heath. “I’ve only met him once and he didn’t show up to the gathering… Is he alright?” They didn’t answer, just wished him a good day.

Now, he was looking through their paperwork and he was sure that he might find something interesting, if not useful. Simon had no idea what he was looking for with these other people. Something that led him back to Grace’s trail, and he had to figure out how they worked to even presume that…

Here’s the thing… Simon wasn’t going to write himself off as wrong or going too far. For crying out loud, the things that these people did, and they felt justified in their reasonings, so he wasn’t going to allow himself to feel bad. Grace might need him, and Xander was keeping her away from him. He cursed himself over that gun, though. However, IF she would have just let him explain that he only had it to keep Xander from getting it! He didn’t know what to think when he holstered it, but it wasn’t for her! Why would he hurt her? He scanned through paperwork, trying to take his mind off of Grace’s lack of faith in him and then, he was sure that he found what he needed. If not; he’d found something interesting. “Huh.”

.

Grace called Sunny for more tips. She was doing everything that she told her to, and reading all these books and articles, ordering all sorts of holistic woo woo shit, and trying SO HARD just to not lose it out there… Sunny was always a mood lifter for her though. They would talk for however long, laugh, joke, sometimes get entirely too serious and cry… they hadn’t done this in a long time, but Grace had been calling her more frequently lately and, well… it was necessary for her to be available.

“It’s like… I don’t want to use this word lightly, and I especially can’t tell Xan, but I feel like I’m like… addicted… Does that sound stupid?”

“Xander doesn’t own the word addicted, Grace. He’s struggled with a few drugs over the years, but one of the reasons is because he’s sick. Some people can try things and never really become addicted to them because those things didn’t appeal to them in that way. This dude appealed to you in a way that your body wasn’t used to. He got into your mind, and most likely changed the chemical balance. Affected your hormones and shit, only to find that he wasn’t what you thought and now your chemicals gotta try to balance back out without his influence, so no, it doesn’t sound stupid. Perhaps melodramatic, but I don’t know. You could be addicted to the way that he made you feel. Going through dick withdrawals is a struggle that people don’t give enough credence, too.”

Grace snorted. “I’m… not… going through that. We weren’t like that. I don’t even know if he ever was into me that way? It was like… I don’t know… I never got the feeling that he desired me physically.”

“What feeling did you get?”

“For the most part, that he wanted me around. I don’t know why. He never seemed to be asking anything of me but to let him be near me. He was very good about not entering my personal space, and even when I got comfortable, he still never made any move on me or anything like that. He just seemed to like to be… present.”

“Okay, but what would he be doing when he was present?”

“Sometimes nothing, really. Just looking at me, or listening to me. Sometimes, we were doing our own thing - me reading a book. Him playing video games or writing, or… Idk, working on a cosplay outfit.”

“Girl, on what?”

“He’s a fantasy fanboy before he’s a fantasy writer, so he you know… makes cosplay costumes and stuff for conventions. Whenever he’s not scheduled to be on a panel at one… This is something that I’ve observed, not something that he’s said. He… doesn’t talk about himself a lot. Not at all, come to think about it.”

“Xander makes him out to be a literal serial killer.”

“Xander hates him. What about 808? What does she say? Xan seems to think that he “got to her” or played some kind of mind games or something?”

“Well… she didn’t say anything to me about him, except that he was very talkative and apparently worships you. She was pretty thrown off guard at how comfortable he seemed with being caught and held hostage. She said that he is either the most nonchalant person ever or the craziest fucking person that she’s ever drawn a weapon on, because he acted like they were buddies just chitchatting, and we all know that he knows what we do to people.” Grace didn’t reply. Sunny offered, “Well, whenever I think about the shit that I went through with Xander and how we always seem to find each other in the dark, it's usually in terms of No Angel.”

Grace said, “Beyonce’s No Angel?”

“”Is… Is there another one? Because, if there’s anything AND a Beyonce song, just go ahead and assume that I am only speaking of the Beyonce option.” Grace laughed. Sunny recited, “ I love you even more than who I thought you were before.” Grace held her breath, unsure of what to say to this. Sunny continued, “All I mean to say is that sometimes people aren’t who we initially thought. Sometimes they’re worse. Sometimes they are seriously fucked up. Sometimes, they’re absolute trash… But… you might still love their ass.”

“Damn, Sis… Is this how you feel about Xan? Because those are some hard descriptions.”

“No. Xander is definitely a hot mess, but I was absolutely describing your… thing… over there. Jimony?”

“Simon,” Grace said, trying not to laugh.

“Right. I knew it had “mon” in it.”

.

Jalicia didn’t know what it was about that station that made her put it on all of the time, but her streaming service generally stayed on an old r&b from the 60s and 70s station, and sometimes 80s and 90s, whenever she was at work. She had a journal with a tiger on the front that she was writing down poetry in, but she could never think of titles for any of her work, and she didn’t feel like she was that artistically creative, so she’d title everything, “(Song Title) Plays in the Background,” whether or not the song had any bearing on the poem. Today’s? Let’s Groove Plays in the Background.

Work was a little bit overwhelming, these days, but only because of the things that had nothing to do with it. The fact that she wouldn’t just receive flowers sometimes and have her coworkers wonder why her boyfriend was this thoughtful, but they never saw him. Or the days where she would pout about being broke and having to pack a stupid sandwich and he would insist on having something sent to her at lunchtime, if he didn’t just make her a different, more fulfilling lunch instead. The way that she would get a text whenever he went on his own lunch break, and it would just be some hilarious video or a new thing that they just HAD to buy. Work was overwhelming, because what she had leaned on every shift was the fact that he’d interrupt it with something nice and that she would leave there and get to see him every day.

Now, she was listening to Earth Wind & Fire, in a gray pantsuit and fooling around on her computer while she waited for something to do. She heard the tone of the doorway and she got up to see if somebody needed help. It was a college bookstore and she was often far overdressed, but all she had aside from her typical attire were the pantsuits she wore when she had to do something other than be casual - like functions and interviews or whatever, so that was what she wore to work.

The O. He looked at her like they were friends or something. A polite smile and warmth in his eyes. She stared him down and reached for her phone. “Hi. Can I just have a moment?” He asked. She texted: The O is here and hit “send” to 747. “It won’t take long, I just wanted to give you something.” The O reached into his bag and Jalicia had already identified four common objects in her immediate surroundings that she would definitely use as a weapon against him if he tried something slick. He handed her an envelope, one of the big yellow ones and she frowned.

“I’m not taking whatever that is. For all I know it’s got anthrax in it.”

He laughed and opened it himself, pulled out the paperwork and handed it to her. “I figured out a better method of tracking people down than Heath had the resources for. I know that Xander is trying his hardest, God help him, but he’s not much on a computer and some of these things are hard to find.” She took the pages and glanced through them. Simon helped her find a certain page, “I’ve guessed that you maybe didn’t know much about this part of the situation that you all walked into. The… X, I suppose you’d call him, was very paranoid that he might be on your list and he hired protection.” He pointed out a few key lines that he had highlighted. “Professional protection, and yet when the time came to protect him, Heath wasn’t shot in the arm, or hell, if they didn’t want him to escape, the leg is an option as well.”

“They killed Heath on purpose,” She said, the wind knocked out of her as she did. She tried to take a seat, but just fell back onto a table and leaned against it, knocking down several books.

“They wanted to send a message and since you all slacked up since then, I’m sure that they think that they did.” She started crying angrily and wiped her face. “Flip to the next page.” Her hands were shaking and she wasn’t sure of what she might see, but she flipped to the next page anyway. “That’s your shooter. Since he was on the job, he confessed to being the one who fired and because Heath was breaking an entering and had no family to intercede for an investigation… the cops seem to be fine with what happened to him, despite the fact that our laws state that a person may not use more force than is necessary given the situation.” She shut her eyes and squeezed out tears, her fists tightly holding onto the phot0 of the man. “Next page are his personal details. Do with it whatever you think is best. I just thought that you would want to know.”

She shivered and cried, “This doesn’t mean that I owe you anything. I didn’t ask you for this and I don’t feel indebted to you for it.”

“Jalicia… I’m on your side. Whatever side Grace is on, that’s where I am. I did this because I want to help.”

“Well… This is the most help you’re getting from me - Xander’s on his way.”

“Then, I’ll be on my way.” He had that polite smile again and she was almost terrified how easily it came to him. He left quite a few minutes before Xander arrived.

She instantly fell apart as soon as she saw him, handing him the papers and explaining to him what he was looking at. She left work and was going to call Grace, but Xander snatched her phone while he was driving. “No, what if he. like, cloned your phone or something?”

“What? This ain’t Person of Interest, Boy. What the fuck are you talking about, Bro? He’s rich but it’s not like he’s Lex Luthor.”

“We can’t chance it. He’d do anything to find out where she is.”

“Give me yours, then.”

“Just hold off. I need to check this dude out. For all we know, Simon is just blowing smoke up our asses to get us to lead him to Grace.”

“The fact that you think it’s more likely that he falsified a bunch of police documents than that he simply sneaked them away is making me wonder about you .”

“I let him get too close to her before, and I’m not doing that again.”

Jalicia snatched her phone back from him and they wrestled for it but, he eventually heard Grace on speaker.

“What is happening on that end?” She asked, laughing a little bit nervously.

“We need to talk about Simon,” Jalicia said.

“I disagree with that sentiment!” Xander said in the background.

There was a pause. Grace was panicking a little bit. Did they know that she was trying to check his pages? That she was trying to see if she could make a temporary account just to try to get to them? How would they know that, Girl?

Jalicia added, “It’s about Heath.” Xander turned red in the face and he shook his head and tried to breathe. “Oh, fuck you, Xan. You left him there to die. The least you could do is chill out while I speak to Grace about this.”

“Whoa… That’s not extremely fair. The Apex protocol is that if somebody is hit, we leave and regroup. We go in with the expectation that if we’re hit, we would slow everyone down and jeopardize everything. So, Xander and I both left him,” Grace said the last statement laced with sadness and guilt.

“He pulled you out and sped away,” Jalicia said.

Xander scoffed and then burst into tears, “I’m glad that you’re telling us how you really feel.” His voice was surprisingly calm, but the ladies knew that hurt him more than anything ever had in this world.

“Tell me what you need to say,” Grace said.

“Simon found Heath’s killer.”

“Simon found a person he alleges is Heath’s killer.”

“He had all of the paperwork to corroborate it. More than Heath has ever collected on any X.”

“He had paperwork on a man who works in security who may have shot Heath dead, but as far as we know is not a bad person. He probably was just on a security job. Somebody broke into the house he was guarding and he shot!”

“WHY DID HE SHOOT HIM IN THE HEAD???” Jalicia squealed. “I’ve been over this myself, before Simon EVER said anything about it, but WHY didn’t they shoot him to survive and answer questions about what is one of the most infamous string of serial murders to ever hit the city? Why would he risk his job to kill someone that way in security, if there wasn’t a reason that Heath needed to be dead?”

“You… you think that the security dude is old Apex?”

“I think that at best, the security dude wanted to kill a person that he didn’t HAVE to kill and he used Heath as a perfect excuse, making him a shitty person, in my opinion, and at worst, he didn’t want us saying anything to anybody, because he knew why we were there!”

“But, we did release what we had on the X. The information is out there now. Nothing was done about it,” Grace added.

“Precisely! Just as nothing was done about this trigger happy buttfuck, even though our laws state that you’re not supposed to kill motherfuckers if you don’t have to!” Jalicia said. She looked at Xander, poked him in the arm and reminded him, “You were the first one to claim you’ll avenge him”

“And you told me to go fuck myself.”

“Emotions were definitely running high, but if you’re looking for the chance to make good on your word, you’ll have to suck it up and just live with the fact that Simon gave us this, like I have to live with the fact that Heath is never fucking coming home!” She got louder than she intended. Xander wiped his tears with the back of his hand, but more just poured out. He nodded, but he was still extremely upset.

“Send me what Simon sent you. I’ll let you know what I decide from there.”

“Thank you, Grace.”

Grace sighed, paused, then said, “Heath would have wanted us to get out, but even if you had driven away and left us all, we wouldn’t have faulted you… That’s the protocol. Heath knew that…”

“Does that make it easier for you?”

“No. But, we shouldn’t make it harder on each other, either…” Jalicia sighed, rolled her eyes and let more tears fall. “I’m sorry, Jalicia. Heath was the first person in the warehouse that I ever cared about. I would trade myself for him, if I could.”

“He’d never let you,” she hung up and reached out for Xander. He accepted her hand. “I was mean to you…”

“You were honest. It just fucking hurts. Heath was the backbone of this family, and everyday he isn’t here, I lose more and more respect and control. He kept me grounded.”

“Doesn’t Sunny do that too?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Maybe you don’t let it be. Maybe the reason Heath was your rock was because you thought that you only needed one. That’s what I did, too. I didn’t even realize how much of my life revolved around him until I was just spinning in space, with nothing to pull me back. Why do you think I moved in with your ass?”

“To split rent.”

She gave a resigned shrug, but shook her head, “I thought that it would make things better, if even just to put me in a spot where I could just not think about it and not be alone. I figured I wouldn’t get over it, but that at least I would logically be able to grant myself some peace because you’re there too, and that there would be some type of comfort. Not emotionally. That’s gonna take more time than I even believe that I have left in this world. But… at least I wanted that solid ground to stand on, to be able to say, Heath would want his two favorite people to lean on each other and find some strength in his absence.” Xander sniffled. She finished, “But it didn’t matter, and I don’t even know what to do, because I thought that being around you would guarantee some balance, even if it didn’t truly help… I still have all of my grief, and I’m..” she whimpered, “So tired. And empty. And distant. My closest living friend is sitting right next to me, and I have been so alone…”

Xander pulled the van over, unlatched his seatbelt and hugged her. She wasn’t done. She was so focused on her train of thought that she hadn’t even actually noticed that Xander was hugging her. “Heath was always in my life. Before any other human that I can remember. Like, logically, I know that Grace took care of Todd and Heath took care of me… but… I don’t even remember anybody else until maybe I was 5 or 6. I know he wasn’t the only person around, but in my mind, he was. I have NO frame of reference that doesn’t involve him. He was…” She finally realized both that Xander was already holding her and that she was crying again.

She remembered something. She was 4 or 5, her brain was never good at that part. She wasn’t in school or anything. All of her special days were simply moments and occurrences. This particular occurrence. A boy with light hair, getting hurt really bad by the stewards. Heath covered her eyes and started talking about flowers. He found a new book about them. He’d help her try to read later. The noise of the boy being beaten up was in the background, but at the time, she was too young to pay any attention to it and listen to Heath. So, she listened to Heath and the beating was background noise filtered out. Afterwards, he took her to the side of the building and let her pick flowers for their new friend. The new boy was mean. He was mean to Heath and Grace had to help Heath. Then, he was nice. She looked at Xander’s face and saw that same boy, just as hurt and just as angry as the first day she recalled a memory of him.

“He wasn’t always in mine… but he was the first person who was ever just nice to me for no reason other than to be nice,” Xander said. “There’s nothing that I want more than to punish a person who would take him away from us, but to have Simon, SIMON, give us that…” He was red in the face and shaking his head. “He’s using it to get to Grace, and I just didn’t want to give him that kind of power.”

“Then why didn’t you just say, ‘Hey, lets not tell her where we got the information?’ If you had just sent it to her with X confirmed, instead of fighting me in traffic…”

“You didn’t give me a chance!”

“I just… This ONE thing, then maybe I can move on.” He nodded and buckled back in. “I’ll get to work on the logistics. In case Grace gives us the go ahead, I want to be ready to move as soon as possible.”

.

Simon pulled his hair up into a high ponytail. He was going to try to get it into a bun, but it had been getting longer and thicker, and while he’d normally just pull the top part into a pony and let the rest hang, but it was windy and he was going to be pretty active, so high ponytail, it was. He had been checking out the X that he gave Jalicia, to see if they were going to make a move on him. He wasn’t positive of the typical turnaround time on an X, so he simply went to watch every night. He wasn’t going to do the car. Dude was in security. He’d probably make him.

Instead, he parked around the block and went to a big tree across the street from the X’s home to post up. He had binoculars and an awkwardly applied hunting tree seat. It wasn’t made for him to be up this high, but he situated it only to have a seat that wasn’t tree bark. He spent the time that he wasn’t watching the house on social media, checking out Sunetra’s pages… which… apparently she went by “Sunny…” which… Simon noted to himself that he had seen a little sun tattoo on Xander, and whenever he came across Sunny’s very tasteful artistic nudes, he saw that she had a little tattoo, as well, on her chest, of an “X.”

Her photos were really nice and she seemed to… possibly be a stripper? He checked a few of her posts and captions. She hashtagged #burlesque in some of them, so maybe not a stripper, but something risque. She was in the fine arts program in college, for dance and had many posts from the Infinity Foundation of her doing dance workshops, yoga, and stuff. She had a lot of witchy posts, too. Simon rolled his eyes, but kept scrolling. Several of her posts were really funny. He noticed a yoga and meditation program that she would be doing at a community center and saved the post.

He watched the X for about a week and a half when he saw the van pull up. In the dark, he couldn’t tell who people were, but two had gotten out and through the binoculars, he could tell that Xander was one and the other was Jalicia. He checked the van. That was an unfamiliar one behind the wheel, but he presumed that it was Sunny or 808, and that he simply couldn’t see them... There was a loud noise and screaming in the house. He turned to see that Jalicia had a knife to a woman’s throat while Xander was escorting the X out, with his hands up. He got him to the van, injected something into his neck and tossed him in. Jalicia unhanded the woman, but appeared to take a bag along with her and the woman ran next door.

Jalicia had taken all the phones with her. The woman had to run next door to call the police. Simon realized that she was probably doing that, and he got out of the tree to get back to his car. If he hurried, he might be able to catch the van!

He went the direction that they had, and when he came to what he thought might be them, he put on a mask of his own, but it was a medical mask, just because that was… possibly not as weird as if he wore like a clown mask or something. They had NOT handled that in the way that he expected. Something told him that they either were rushing or desperate. He wondered why.

But, whenever they pulled the van into an old train station, he parked behind the building and got out of his car. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up.  

He could hear their voices, and he followed the sound of them, but didn’t come from the shadows of the building. They were dragging the bag into a field that Simon knew that he had passed several times in his life, but never paid much attention to. Nobody really did. Was this where they buried them? He wondered. He only saw Jalicia and Xander, pulling the body bag with one hand and carrying shovels in their free hands. Where was the driver? He went around the other side of the building and the van was pulling off. Where were THEY going? He couldn’t start his car. Jalicia and Xander weren’t far enough away to not hear him. He groaned and went to look back towards the field. He couldn’t see anything beyond the tall grass, but he used his phone to try to record where they were… maybe he could find it in the daytime. Besides, they were now far enough away that he could start his car without alerting him. He felt like he had enough.

Simon drove home, wary of a van behind him for a portion of the way. He took some loops and turnarounds that he wouldn’t usually take before he was comfortable that they weren’t following him and it wasn’t the van… but after he got home, he noticed at the bottom of the hill a van, and it looked like the van that they used. It looked like the van that he was nervous might be following him. But. There was no way that the van had found him after those turns. Was it one of them, just letting him know that they knew he had followed them?

He rushed inside and looked out of the curtains. They were there for a moment. They turned the van off and he took a deep gulp and reached for one of his guns. They got out of the van and stood, staring up at the house. DEFINITELY APEX. This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.This is fucked up.

They stared, wearing a gold mask, a tam hat, and the all black outfit that he had gotten used to, but then not seen for a while. “Grace!” He said. He put his gun down and rushed out of his door. “Grace?” He called, but she rushed back into the van, tossed something out, and peeled off. “Grace…” He ran down the hill and out to the road. She was gone… He looked down to see what she had thrown down on her way off. It was a Stop sign with a red squiggly line underneath the word “Stop.” He picked it up, roared and began to smash it against the pavement, before flinging it into the middle of the road and going back into his house. He called Jalicia and she looked at her phone, not recognizing the number, so she answered it. “Hello?”

“Was that Grace?” a voice asked.

“What?”

“The person who just followed me home and told me to stop. Was that Grace?”

“No,” was all that she said. He hung up. She put her phone away.

“Who’s that?” Xander wondered.

“Non issue,” she said. It wasn’t a complete lie, and there was no way that she was about to ruin their night with… whatever that had been about. She and Xander were still digging when their third came walking up, her gold mask on her face and a shovel in hand. “Girl, where did you rush off to?”

“I knew he was gonna still be alive,” she said and pulled up the mask onto her head. Sunny. “Had to make a stop,” she said with a shrug. She and Jalicia stared at each other a moment, and Xander kept digging, oblivious to the exchange of them questioning each other with their eyes. It was short lived, because Grace was connecting for the video call. “Hey, Girl, Hey!” Sunny cheered.

“Bitch, I’m so mad that I’m not there right now.”

“Be mad at Jimona,” Sunny said.

“Simon!” Grace said, laughing. Then, more solemnly, said, “Draw a squiggle right across his face, for me.”

“Sure will,” Sunny said, pulling her knife out. “What are you listening to, Woman?”

Grace checked the info on her streaming, “Hurts by Emeli Sande.”

“That’s dope. Send me the link to that.”

.

Simon was at the apartment now, crying and sitting in front of the cameras. He wondered if she would return with them, but looking at the feeds he had placed to check the outside of their homes, he noted that the three entered Xander and Jalicia’s home at 3:47 am… and that… wasn’t Grace. It was the woman that he had initially identified as, “One who looks like Grace.” It was Sunny… He flared his nostrils and set an alert to remind him about the yoga and meditation at the community center.

His phone began to ring while it was in his hands. It was a private number. For a moment, he let his heart accelerate. “Hello?” He answered.

Silence. He sighed and almost hung up, but… he felt something. His tears stopped, he sat up erect and waited. She was silent, still. He was afraid to break it, but more afraid of her losing whatever nerve she had at the moment and hanging up. So, he dared to speak. He kept his voice soft and low. Gentle, like he knew she would remember him being. “Hey…” He said. He heard her sniffle and it tore at his heart. “Hey,” he managed to say even softer. “Are you okay?” She sniffled again. “Tell me what I can do to make you okay?”

“Why did you do that, Simon? Why did you?”

“I wanted to be close to you. I wanted to know you. I wanted you… I didn’t know what to do. I was desperate. I am desperate. Please, tell me where you are…”

“You let Xander catch you.” There was the longest pause since the conversation started. Eventually, she spoke again. “I feel like the kids walked in on me doing something dirty…”

“I feel like it’s none of ‘the kids’ damn business what we do.”

“They can’t see stuff like that. They can’t see me being followed and watched, obsessively. They can’t just move on from that. You have no idea the kind of people who… Why did you have a gun?”

“Because, I had just been attacked by somebody that I know is a murderer and I was on edge…” They were quiet again. “I can keep them out of sight from now on. I can keep them away from you, at all times…”

“If I come back into town, my crew is gonna get… difficult. It won’t be safe for you.”

“I can’t prove myself to them? To you? Did you see what I found for them? For Heath? For Jalicia?... For you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Jalicia told me right away…”

“You sound like you’re smiling,” he observed, daring to smile, himself.

“I can’t help it… but… we can’t… do this, Simon.”

“Don’t…”

“We’re both in really weird places and us coming together isn’t good… for either of us, I think…”

“Please…”

“We shouldn’t be together, see each other, anything. You should… get on with your life.”

“No!”

“Bye, Simon.”

“NO!!” She hung up. He bit into his lip so hard that he drew blood, trying to keep his composure. He couldn’t even go to the gun range right now! But.. He could… go back to that field. He knew where it was. He knew where the bodies were now… he… was running out of patience, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t her fault. The longer they kept her away from him, the more confused she would be. She just needed to understand that he was on her side. If she couldn’t… she would have to learn that there were consequences for going against him.

13. A Shot in the Dark Pt 1

[shriekbackmusic]

Collaborations #1 (’Shriekback are Seeing Other People’)

Well, collaboration is everything really innit? No man is an island, not even the ones who pretend they are. That’s what I reckon.  Merging somebodys’ talents and energies with yours. What a thing. The very stuff of life.

Still, it can be a fractious business: politics will come into it. LIke: who’s in charge here?  Who gets to say whether your bit is better than my bit? And how do we work that shit out? A microcosm of the world or what?

Undeterred, we  seem to do it (collaborate) quite a lot. And these are some pretty successful tunes, I would say. Good for us. Bold and resolute Shriekback! 

So there’s Hope, right?

(BA)

MART’S TRACKS:

DROP BY DROP Barker/Burridge

Taken from my Album" Water and Stone." Exploring my rolling Gtr and groove in 7 with the wonderfully talented musician cellist Emily Burridge.

Inspired by the miracle of water, its rhythm, its music, its journey, its myths, its poetry and beauty 

FLYING SAUCER Barker/ Roedelius/Noah1

Lovely to have met and worked with the master of Ambience, Hans Joachim Roedelius for the Album Fibre.

Recorded up in the hills of Shropshire with George Taylor (Noah1) and Jez coed

This piece was inspired by my riff Im playing on the Hang Drum, hence the title "Flying Saucer"

GOLDEN MOON Barker/Young

Taken from my mini Album”  Blue” Talitha Rise.

This was my first big endeavour into the musical spiritual world and  collaboration with Jo beth young.

We are joined on the Riti by Juldeh Camara.

PILGRIM`S WAY Barker/Adams

My new project/collaboration still ongoing with the mighty talent of Justin Adams .

This first piece inspired by ancient walks.

This new whole album partly inspired by the writing of Robert Macfarlane "the old ways"

SANDLINES. Barker/ Adams

Second piece inspired the Ancient paths of the desert. 

THE LAKE Barker/Young taken from the album" Abandoned Orchid House” Talitha Rise

Another collaboration with Jo beth Young and another piece in 7!

Intense, energetic and rich with riddles.

THE SELKIE. Barker / Pynn

Second Piece taken from my Album "Water and Stone”

Inspired by the Myths and stories of the Selkie. With the magical multi instrumentalist Nick Pynn on Violin.

CARL’S TRACKS:

Words Fail Me

with AMANDA KRAVIT

(Barratt/Marsh)

David Barratt and I were introduced to Amanda by John Mrvos, one of the A&R team at EastWest Atlantic in New York (Happyhead’s label) - she was his girlfriend and he wanted to get her recorded, basically, so we came up with this. Dave had done some kind of publishing deal that allowed him to sample the company catalogue, hence Ravi Shankar playing sitar all over it. Backing vocals by Bill Clift; some of the drums sound like Jim Kimberley, sampled from HH sessions  (1992ish.)

The Longest Goodbye

with BILL CLIFT

(Clift/Marsh)

I’ve written loads with Bill under various banners, of course. This is a mid-90s demo recorded in Bill’s flat in Greenwich. BVs by Stella Clifford and Marilyn Gentle, bass (I think) by Gary Brady… not sure who did the wibbly organ. This song was later recorded by Bill’s band Fuzzbuddy, re-titled Killing Me Now - it’s just been re-released as part of their Complete Studio Recordings compilation.

THE PALACE DOGS

with GEOFF WOOLEY

I’ve collaborated with Geoff Woolley since Out On Blue Six, and in school bands even before that. These two tracks, from around 1995, are both built from sampled TV shows (and therefore subject to all sorts of potential copyright issues…).

Queen of Peoples’ Hearts

(Marsh/Woolley)

The self-styled QOPH’s Panorama special, cut up and pumped up with added Dario Argento and a spot of Jeremy Paxman. The Original is all-electronic; the Guitar Version has not only mine and Geoff’s rhythm bits but some wildfire lead from Steve Bolton (Atomic Rooster, Paul Young, The Who etc. and currently fronting the mighty Dead Man’s Corner). Take yer pick.

Crazy Dames

(Marsh/Woolley)

The main voice and piano on here are from a 1961 Twilight Zone episode called The Midnight Sun, in which the Earth is knocked out of orbit and is spiralling towards the Sun… it gets hot. Other vocals by Stella Clifford and Marilyn Gentle.

GASWERKS

The Ying Tong Song

(Milligan)

Basically the same format as The Palace Dogs with the addition of Bill Clift, whose idea it was to knock out a dance version of The Goons’, er, classic. Dig that crazy rhythm, indeed. We were told the novelty song market was a hard one to crack… by the singer of Black Lace, who should know, I suppose…

WOOLLEY/MARSH

The Girlfriends Of Dorian Gray

(Barratt/Marsh/Woolley)

David Barratt came up with the conceit of a modern Dorian Gray who preserves his youth (or immaturity) not by having a grotesquely ageing portrait in the attic but by having an ever-changing string of girlfriends who absorb the consequences of his many flaws and are discarded one after another. Dave sketched out the chorus and then proposed that he, I and Deni Bonet (NY-based violinist and writer that we’ve worked with on various projects) should write our own versions of the story, possibly with the idea of creating some kind of meta-version combining them all. That never happened, but I like the track Geoff and I came up with and the lyric is nice and tricksy - shades of Costello, maybe, if I say so myself.

You’re The Only One

(Marsh/Woolley)

A re-write of a Happyhead demo, switching New York electronica for some 90s Britpop vibes, it sounds like. Bit of a kinky ménage à trois scenario with reasonably loud guitars. Nice.

BARRY’S TRACKS

The Frances & Martine poems, with Hilda Sheehan (2014)

part 1: GLOW, GOOSE, CORN-REMOVER

part 2: COAT, ARM, KNOB OF BUTTER

I met Hilda Sheehan - through the (surprisingly vibey) Swindon poetry scene when I was stationed back there for 10 years in '04.  She was often the star turn at their spoken word events and, I thought, had the mark of a real artist in that she came with her own self-contained world (’magical realist Northern UK kitchen sink’, if I had to describe it).

I thought it would be fun to 'set' (as they say) some of her poems to music and so I did. From Hilda's considerable oeuvre, I picked the Frances and Martine series - I liked F&M's mutually abrasive dependence - the key ingredient in any sitcom - and the succinct and sometimes brutal nature of each of their adventures. 

Dame Hilda Sheehan

The Anaxaton6 EP with Mike Tournier (2013)

I first worked with Mike Tournier (Big Mike as opposed to Little Mike - these were Flukes' Contrasting Mikes at the time) as producer on their OTO album c.94. Techno outfit Fluke apparently liked them some Olde Shriekback (they had worked previously with Wendy and Sarah) and thought I might add something to the project. 

It turned out that producing a techno band is every bit as awkward as you might imagine (there’s only one computer screen for a start) and we abandoned the collaboration after I'd failed to insert myself into Fluke's process in any useful way (sandwich run doesn't count).

Anyway, we stayed in touch and collaborated rather more successfully on a Fluke/Shriekback tune and performance for MTV.  

It was the redoubtable Julian Nugent, Fluke's manager, who got in touch - in 2013 to suggest that Mike and I might like to try knocking up a tune together.

I liked the idea of this straightaway. Mike can produce huge, hi-torque productions and I had an idea of a songwriting approach which I though might complement this. The vocalist would be recognisably the bloke out of Shriekback but CG’d with florid new appendages. I fancied some mad-as-a-rat lyrics (Welcome to their secret sign: Boola Stack! Haunted Lego of the Mind! Boola Stack!) but the music would be slick and vivid and solidly crafted because that's always how Mike rolls. Thus you get something quite absurd being taken very seriously which is, to my mind, the best thing you can possibly have.

extract  from the sleeve notes:

BONE MARAUDER tells of a pure love, painful engorgement and hog sorcery. 

JUJUGRID (GO LIVE!) wrangles with hedonic guilt, ecclesiastical turpitude and leaves everything else the fuck alone. 

BOOLA STACK! - There are so many things to say of Boola Stack that to ennumerate them insults us both.

NO FOOL BOLETUS... let's just be clear about this: you got nothing to hide, there's no need to worry. Be lucky.

Michaele don Turino and Bleary Android are the naked mortals chained to the husky obelisk of ANAXATON6 

Anaxaton6 has some videos here:

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=anaxaton6

Mike Tournier