#because nancy is a person who I think naturally keeps almost everyone at a distance. the only people she doesn't do this with

[rynliadon]

ok but what if eddie munson and nancy wheeler were best friends. what if eddie had saved nancy from her vecna trance, and they started to hang out more. what if eddie got nancy into heavy metal, and nancy loved its energy and emotion and how powerful it made her feel. what if nancy started experimenting with her style. (nancy in a leather jacket with piercings and jewelry!!) what if nancy was able to get close to someone again, have a good platonic friend again after barb, and learn that she IS a good friend, that barb's death wasn't her fault. (bc I get the sense that she and barb were the kind of friends who were attached at the hip, don't need anyone else type friends, and after her death the guilt and pain of it meant that her only friends were people she didn't know very well & purposely distanced herself from, school friends etc., and steve & jonathan. she deserves platonic friends!!) again I return to metalhead nancy. metalhead nancy wheeler. what if nancy and eddie helped each other through their upside down related trauma. and what if they got to have a deeply personal and close platonic connection. WHAT IF NANCY AND EDDIE WERE BEST FRIENDS.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Whumptober Day 17: Dirty Little Secret

CW: Creepy whumper, whumper POV, implied whump of a minor, implied noncon references

“Well, Kelly, you’ve spent an hour talking politics, is there anything else you’d like to hear my thoughts on today?” Governor Oliver Branch sits easily in the padded chair behind his desk. It’s a deep, dark burgundy with little brass accents, and not that he intends to tell Kelly Donahue this particular bit of information, but it very comfortably holds the weight of two.

“Well, let me check.” Kelly smiles at him - bright, perfectly-applied deep pink lipstick, camera-ready stylish-but-demure blue dress, legs crossed politely at ankles, sensible heels. Shellacked hair. The cameraman, on the other hand, is wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and looks like he’s ready for a beer at the bar downtown.

Oliver would rather be at the bar, too.

Still, he’s just as camera-ready as Donahue - had his boy get his favorite suit out, a charcoal gray so dark it’s nearly black, while they played Interview. Baldur loves the game - one of the only times Oliver allows him to speak, when he pretends to be a reporter asking Oliver questions, and Oliver loves the sparkle he gets in his eyes.

He loves extinguishing the sparkle, at the end of the game, even more.

The color of his suit is carefully chosen to pop against the chair, and he hasn’t worn it on TV before. It’ll go over well, he’s sure of it. Even Nancy had nice things to say.

The tie he’s wearing - a burgundy that matches the chair with a brass-colored tie pin, just to hammer the coordination home - was wrapped around Baldur’s wrists this morning. There’s a delicious little thrill to wearing it now, knowing that some of Baldur’s sweat is still in the silken fabric. 

He takes a breath, thinking of the way the boy knows how to beg, and how delightful it is to read in his eyes how much he would like to beg for it to stop, but is too well-trained to do anything but beg for more.

The shameless scandal of it all, if they ever found out, always adds an edge to their moments together. Baldur is, of course, as close to a relationship as Oliver has had since he decided to run for Governor.

Got a little annoying to keep paying to keep rumors underwraps. Didn’t cost so much more to simply buy himself someone no one else will ever know about. An easy financial decision, nothing more.

A financial decision that knows exactly how to do that thing with his hips-

“Are you open to some questions about your personal life?” Kelly cocks her head, and her hair doesn’t move an inch. Oliver can’t help the way his eyebrows raise, very slightly. Whoever does her hair… Oliver would very much like to offer them double their wages at the studio to get them to do his hair instead.

“Oh, of course, Kelly. You know, I’ve always been an open book to my constituents, since I ran for city councilman and read my own ‘don’t ask about’ file out loud during a meeting.”

A nice bit of theater, that. He claimed to have gotten it from his opponent, but really… Oliver had written the damn thing himself. No one knows your dirty little secrets better than you do, after all. 

“Yeah, I remember - I was there for that.” Kelly laughs, tucks a bit of hair behind one ear.

Oliver blinks, looking her over. He thickens his southern drawl, one of the things polls routinely find his constituents find endearing about him. Just a good old boy from Charleston, somehow finds his way to California to settle down for good. Really, it adds a hint of sincerity to all is falsehoods. “No. Impossible! You’re hardly old enough, my dear.” It sounds like idle flattery, but for once, it’s all genuine. Oliver’s been governor of this great state for nearly a decade, and was city councilman for quite some time before that, and Kelly can’t possibly have been out of school-

“I was a senior in high school,” She says, almost shyly, apparently guessing at his next question. If he were a different man, he might flirt with her. But what’s the point, when he has someone - something better, hidden away just behind that door? 

“What led a senior in high school to attend a boring old city council meeting? Sure you weren’t such a good civic-minded young citizen as all that?”

She giggles a little, then glances over her shoulder, mouths something at the cameraman. Oliver can guess what. Edit that out.

Kelly Donahue doesn’t want the episode to be aired with her giggling like a schoolgirl at a bit of idle flattery. Well. Everyone has their things they like to hide, don’t they?

She has her giggle. Oliver has a teenage boy locked in his bedroom.

He almost wishes he’d had Baldur hide under the desk for this, instead. Imagines speaking with Kelly, all sincere interest and open honesty, while petting through Baldur’s soft, shining hair, hooking fingers into his collar to pull him up against Oliver’s leg… He thinks about hosting a perfectly normal interview while Baldur is drugged to dozing, right there. 

He’s done it a dozen times with field trips and one-on-ones. Flirting with disaster - with the absolute chaos that would ensue if the boy were found - is exciting in ways that nothing else in Oliver’s life ever has been.

Baldur’s so very good at holding so very, very still for him, and feeling that boy shaking with energy he isn’t allowed to expend, fighting all his own instincts... Oliver had his youthful indiscretions, and there is no drug, no girl, no boy, no drink… nothing in his life, absolutely nothing, feels as good as knowing that Baldur’s entire body is begging him to move - and one word from Oliver means he can’t.

And if he does - if he breaks the order, if he cannot help but disobey it… well, then Oliver gets to do his favorite thing on Earth. He gets to tell Baldur it’s time to play a game.

Then he gets to hurt him, and hear the way he cries.

There is no power on earth like the power you could hold over another human being’s very nature, and all for a bit of money changing hands in discreet ways. Thank God for shell corporations, or he’d be in prison by now.

“Oh,” Kelly says, blushing a little, interrupting his thoughts. He ticks his smile a little wider. “I was there to argue about something with the Pledge of Allegiance, actually.”

“Ah, yes. The Young Republicans Club. I remember that whole mess.” Oliver waves on hand, gives a soft laugh. “If you’re still in contact with any of them, I do hope you’ll give them my absolute apologies for stealing their thunder that night. I promise you, Kelly, Scout’s honor-” Oliver crosses his fingers up in a little salute. He was never once in his fucking life a Boy Scout.  A little money changes hands, a few documents are forged, and now he was an Eagle Scout who led community service. Funny how that works. “-I had no idea what any of the topics were going to be, I was too nerved up that night, really I was.”

“Oh, that was years ago.” She waves her hand a little, but her own smile has widened in response to his. “It’s not a problem. I was just… honestly, I didn’t see it at the time, but it was a privilege to see that kind of political theater in action.”

Oliver’s laugh is bright, and loud, and he wonders if the boy can hear it, through two doorways and a hallway’s worth of distance. If he’ll listen for the sound of his Sir’s laugh, to try and gauge when it’s over. If he’ll be waiting at the door to the bedroom, waiting to be allowed out, to be given permission to do… well, anything.

“Theater? I am wounded, Kelly. I was merely being honest-”

“Now, Oliver, I know a bit of showing off when I see it - I do plenty of it on my own.” Kelly laughs, too, and they are such good friends, Oliver and the journalists who come here to interview him. He’s a boring bit of story, honestly - a reliable progressive governor of a reliably progressive state. No wife and no kids, no scandals, no weekend indiscretions. 

Governor Oliver Branch does his job and does it well. His legislature likes him, more or less. His constituency adores him. He’s been re-elected in a landslide. There’s been talk about Presidential aspirations, although Oliver’s never thought any higher than the Senate.

Senator Oliver Branch. 

Now that sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

He’ll have dumped the boy by then, of course. No loose ends. The boy has plenty of skills to find himself a new keeper. Even if he doesn’t, he won’t be Oliver’s problem anymore, will he?

He’ll buy another, then.

He and Kelly chat, the interview going off without a hitch. It’s softballs all the way through, easy-to-answer questions, because no one has any difficult questions for him these days. No, Oliver is a good governor in a good state doing good things with good intentions.

Oliver smiles. The questions are easy and his approval ratings are high. There’s been some discussion about a Presidential run, although he’ll of course be bashful and refuse such an idea. His character can’t take the scrutiny, he’ll say, and everyone will laugh. 

All great men have things they’d rather hide, after all.

Although perhaps not things quite like this.

Down the hall, behind a locked door, Oliver Branch’s dirty little secret sits wearing only one of Oliver’s button-ups, knobby knees curled up to his chest, collar buckled snugly around his neck.

The boy rocks and rocks, staring through the tiniest gap in the drapes over the balcony door, watching the clouds move in the sky and wondering what it would feel like to go outside.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes

[dweetwise]

Hello! Could I request some headcanons on the other survivors opinions on quentin? Thank you!.

i love quentin he’s my son ;w;

Quentin & other survivors headcanons

Dwight finds Quentin's dark humor a little unnerving. In general he thinks Quentin is too cool and edgy for him, but secretly he really wants to befriend him.

Meg sees Quentin as an annoying little brother. Where the others give him a lot of leeway because of his troubled past, she's not afraid of giving him a piece of her mind. Quentin appreciates her honesty even if they bicker a lot.

Claudette constantly worries over him, but has more tact than most of the others, causing him to seek her out for advice because he knows she won’t patronize him. They also bond over both of them having a knack for healing.

Jake vibes with Quentin's non-conformist attitude and morbid humor. Quentin always seems to calm down in his company, sometimes even falling asleep mid-banter, and the two have a pretty wholesome bromance.

Nea brings out a rebellious side of Quentin and loves his hyper side. They would have gotten along splendidly even before the fog, their friendship shallow but lots of fun. Sometimes they swap beanies for funsies.

Laurie and Quentin are almost like siblings. Their personalities contrast a lot, but they bond over similar trauma and losing their friends in the most horrible ways. Laurie is his best friend and the only one who knows the full story of what happened with Freddy.

Ace likes the kid and worries from afar. He’ll do his damndest to laugh at Quentin's morbid attempts at jokes when everyone else is just silent and uncomfortable. He somehow seems to know exactly when Quentin needs a distraction with a shitty pun and when he just needs space to mope in peace.

Bill is protective of Quentin no matter how much the teen tries to dissuade him. He'll throw himself between Freddy and Quentin every time, even if he's injured and on death hook. Quentin has never told Bill about his history with the killer, but the veteran has his suspicions.

Feng likes Quentin when he's being a little shit (to someone other than her) but hates that sometimes he just gives up in trials. She's left him to die several times but it doesn't impact their friendship, because at least she doesn't coddle him.

David and Quentin both have hot tempers and have thrown fists on multiple occasions. They have an unspoken agreement where Quentin can take out his frustrations on David, be it verbal or physical. Eventually David teaches him how to spar properly to get rid of some of the pent-up energy. David wants to help and this is the only way he knows how to.

Tapp immediately labeled Quentin as a problem youth junkie. He felt really bad after hearing about his forced insomnia, so he tries to make it up to Quentin and always goes easy on him compared to the other youngsters.

Kate likes everyone, and Quentin is no exception. She gets a little exasperated at his self-deprecating and sarcastic humor, when she's just trying to stay positive and keep the optimism high in camp. If Quentin’s being especially morbid, she’ll just grab his cheeks and force his mouth into a smile to get him to shut up.

Adam gauges him like a teacher would a student, and thinks Quentin is a smart kid, if a little misguided. He’s flattered when Quentin is the first to approach him to learn to use Diversion, but is fondly exasperated when he sees Quentin use it solely to throw rocks at the killer’s face.

Jeff is chill as fuck. He trusts Quentin to know what's best for himself, and when some of the others are too persistent with getting him to sleep or whatnot, Jeff will politely tell them to fuck off and leave the kid alone.

Jane takes on a mother role whether Quentin likes it or not. She feels like he's still a child and needs someone who is stern and will tell him off if his moping gets out of line or if he refuses to sleep for days on end.

Ash tries cheering up Quentin with shitty jokes. He does feel a little bad for the kid, but wants him to get through it and come back out on the other side; like Ash himself did.

Steve thinks Quentin is definitely someone he would have hung out with back in high school. He brings out a more playful side of Quentin, and Quentin in turn makes Steve's snark multiply tenfold.

Nancy kind of accepts Quentin as Steve's friend and unconsciously keeps a distance. They're on good terms though and he's weirdly protective of her for reasons she doesn’t entirely understand (his Nancy).

Yui, like Meg, sees Quentin as an annoying little brother. Hers comes with more of a protective streak, where she’s running after the killer and trying to get Quentin to wiggle free while calling him out on what a bad play he made to get caught.

Zarina sees many similarities between herself and Quentin, mainly their curious nature. She asks a lot of questions the others are too scared to, especially about his research on dreams. Even though her prying sometimes strikes a nerve, most of the time Quentin is happy to share his theories with someone.

Cheryl is quick to befriend Quentin because of his vibe that's much like to hers. They have a similar sense of humor and coping mechanisms and grow close really fast. Cheryl and Laurie also get on splendidly, and the three are very tight friends.

[hartigays]

2 for Harringrove ??

2. “The thought of losing you scares me.”

(these are supposed to be fluff prompts but we going ✈️ end of the world anyway bc i can)

it’s been six months, eight weeks, and four days since their plan at starcourt failed. six months, eight weeks, and four days since the sky turned black and red and the world grew cold. six months, eight weeks, and four days since the gate blew open and effectively ended the world as they knew it.

six months, eight weeks, and four days since billy almost died in a pool of black sludge on the grimy linoleum floors of starcourt mall.

he’s doing better. most of his wounds were shallow, save for the few that went deep enough to nearly take his life. but doc owens had a house full of supplies to suture billy up like frankenstein.

even after owens deemed him fit for travel, they stayed there for a while. billy and the rest of the party. holed up in owens’ house, trying to figure out just how they could possibly ride this out.

two weeks into their stay, they came late at night. the demo-dogs, a whole swarm of them. the group defended the house as best as they could, but it was a lost cause. they were out on the open road by the what used to be considered sunrise.

time has ceased to have any real meaning anymore, if they’re being honest. there’s no morning or night, just darkness and a cold that seeps deep into their bones and refuses to go away.

the line between the two dimensions has been all but erased. the upside down has consumed their world; swarms of demo-dogs prowl the frozen wasteland, the mind flayer takes more and more people for its army each day.

they keep running. from city to city, state to state, just barely escaping the mind flayer’s grasp each time.

the kids don’t smile much these days. el is tired more often than not, weakened and drained from the constant use of her gifts. joyce doesn’t have many soft, kind words to lend out anymore. hopper has distanced himself from everyone, both physically and emotionally. standing guard and pacing around in the night on the fringes of wherever they’ve made camp.

and steve. steve doesn’t smile softly anymore, doesn’t make his goofy jokes or try to cheer the kids up. he just grips onto his bat, wound tight and always at the ready, constantly on high alert.

billy is surprised, given his near-death experience, that he’s actually not the most fucked up person in this broken group. he supposes he was built more for a world like this than most. he’d hardened himself to the world they knew Before. this one just seems to make more sense for someone like him.

violence has run in his blood since he’d exited the womb. fighting monsters and suffering from hunger and exhaustion and living in a world devoid of warmth and happiness apparently just comes naturally to him.

that isn’t to say that billy doesn’t have a lot of regrets. he regrets not telling max that he loved her more, Before. it feels odd to say it now, like maybe he’d only be saying it because they could die at any given moment.

he regrets not going back to california to see his mom when he had the chance. he regrets being cruel to the kids he now spends every waking moment protecting. he regrets convincing himself to waste his time with someone like karen wheeler, something he only did to bury the ugly truth about himself and his desires.

billy certainly regrets not being kinder with steve.

it’d be easier, if he had. it’d be easier to tell steve now that he loves him. it’s another situation where it just seems forced, like he’s only deciding this now when there’s no one left to choose from.

that could never be the case, but billy can’t see steve thinking otherwise. it’s just. billy didn’t let himself feel it for so long. his love for steve crept up on him, from the moment they first met. there was just something about him. and the more his feelings grew, the more afraid he became. the more he lashed out and repressed how he felt.

it feels like a lost cause now. but billy doesn’t quite think things like that carry the weight of any real importance, not anymore. not when they have to fight every day just to stay alive. so, he focuses on that. on finding food, water, shelter. on protecting the party, one day at a time.

billy has had to do a lot of protecting today. they had to pull up stakes at their last camp, another demo-dog pack blowing through. they lost a lot of stuff in the process - food and water, mostly. the demo-dogs seem to learn rather quickly what items to destroy along with the people.

they drove for nearly three days before finding a dilapidated motel in a small nebraskan town. billy, steve, and nancy help hopper do a sweep and clear out any demo-dogs hiding in the shadows. they set up a perimeter not long after.

hopper takes billy and steve on a run into town for supplies. it’s been nearly picked clean by either other survivors, or demo-dogs. they’re still prowling the streets when they arrive.

needless to say, it doesn’t go very well.

billy has to see doc owens immediately upon their return; his arm was nearly shredded by a particularly nasty dog. steve had sprung in at the last moment, beating the ugly bastard off of billy with his bat. now, steve nearly paces a hole in the floor while owens works on stitching billy up.

he doesn’t know why steve is so wound up tonight. they got enough supplies to satiate the whole group, especially the kids. it was a good run.

they’re sharing a room at the motel. no one sleeps alone - it’s one of their cardinal rules. billy heads to it after they eat. steve follows after him and slams the door shut so hard it rattles on its hinges.

“the fuck, harrington?” billy hisses, sitting up in alarm. “you trying to bring a pack of dogs down on us like it’s fuckin’ judgment day?”

“you almost died again.” it’s said with an air of finality. like billy should’ve already known the cause of steve’s upset.

“that’s life now, pretty boy,” billy sighs, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes. “you really should learn how to get used to that.”

steve cuts him a glare. “you don’t fucking get it, do you?”

there’s obviously something that billy is missing here. he doesn’t quite understand what steve is so bent out of shape about.

“obviously not,” billy says, standing and moving to slip his shirt off before climbing into bed.

he doesn’t quite make it back into the bed. steve marches over and grabs his arm, stopping him before he has the chance.

“i can’t - i can’t lose you too,” steve tells him, his voice breaking. “i can’t watch you die. i won’t. the thought of you not being here, losing you, it just. scares the fuck out of me.”

billy swallows around the lump that has mysteriously formed in his throat. he doesn’t brush steve off when his hand slides down his arm, until it can grasp billy’s and tangle their fingers together. he’s pretty sure he stops breathing, though.

“you won’t,” he says, finally. “who else would keep your pretty ass out of trouble?”

“billy, i’m serious. you can’t keep putting yourself in danger like that. like you did today,” steve begs, squeezing his hand tight.

“that dog would’ve killed you if i hadn’t.”

“yeah, but it almost killed you!” steve cries, releasing billy’s hand to throw his up in exasperation.

“oh, what, so i’m supposed to let you die and just protect myself instead?” billy snaps, his voice raising an octave. “fuck off with that shit. you think you can’t handle a world without me in it? how the fuck do you think i’d feel if i lost you? you ever fuckin’ consider that?”

he’s borderline shouting now, and steve slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with surprise. billy peels his hand off, taking a steady breath. laces their fingers together again.

“there’s never going to be a time where i don’t pick your life over mine,” billy tells him. “better get used to that, too.”

steve takes a deep breath of his own. he searches billy’s eyes, before squeezing his shut and leaning in. he rests his forehead against billy’s, just breathing together for a moment.

“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, breaking the silence that has fallen between them.

“for what?” billy questions, his brows furrowing.

“for not doing this sooner.”

steve pulls him in and seals their mouths together. billy emits a soft noise of surprise, his eyes flying open. he feels frozen, like he’s not quite sure if this is really happening or not. but when steve starts to pull away, billy’s brain comes back online.

he yanks steve in closer, kissing him with every last bit of energy he has, and then some. steve’s hand leaves his, only for both of them to grasp onto billy’s shirt, fingers curling into the material. billy cradles steve’s face in his hands, holding him like he’s precious.

he kinda is, if billy hasn’t made that abundantly clear yet.

“i’m so fucking in love with you,” steve breathes when they break apart. “god, i can’t believe i haven’t said that until now. you’ve almost died like, five hundred times and i’ve never told you the most important thing that i could ever possibly say to anyone ever and -”

billy cuts him off, giving steve another kiss, this one warm and gentle. “it’s okay. i - yeah. i love you too. didn’t ever say it either.”

“guess that makes us both idiots.”

billy smiles running his fingers through steve’s hair. it’s long beyond reason, which is both sexy and dangerous.

“we need to cut this soon,” billy comments. “god forbid something grabs onto this damn mop while we’re out on a run.”

“i’ll let you cut mine if you let me trim your beard. it’s getting a little mangy,” steve offers, then makes a face. “god. is this what intimacy is in the apocalypse? cutting each other’s hair?”

billy snickers softly. “i think i have a few better ideas.”

“oh yeah? like what?”

taking steve’s hand, billy pulls him towards the bed farthest from the door, smiling softly. “i think it’d be better if i just showed you.”

steve pauses. and then, “oh, you mean right now?”

billy plops down on the mattress, reclining back on his elbows. he arches a brow. “what, you got somewhere to be, pretty boy?”

there’s only a split-second pause before steve is scrambling to straddle billy’s hips. steve smiles down at him, leaning down to kiss the tip of billy’s nose.

“nowhere but here, sweetheart.”

send me a number + a pairing!

[salavante]

Aesop 29 or the Helmsman

(I’ve drawn his floating head a lot, so here’s him with his hood up, which I draw less) Also formal apology because I think like maybe no more than four people who follow me play Destiny, so a couple things may sound a little esoteric. I’d suggest checking out the Ishtar Collective (links to offsite) if I refer to something unfamiliar. 

Full Name: Aesop-29

Gender and Sexuality: Male and Homosexual.

Pronouns: He/Him.

Ethnicity/Species: Exo, from the little crop of Destiny fancharacters that I have.

Birthplace and Birthdate: Unknown factor. But Aesop was found by his Ghost in the middle of nowhere, in a southwestern state that I have not chosen yet. Arizona, Texas, Colorado and Southern California are all candidates. Aesop has just a little bit of a Texan accent. 

Guilty Pleasures: Aesop is trying to learn how to play guitar and is really bad at it, making him very shy and nervous about his attempts. Similarly, Aesop enjoys singing, but usually does it when no one else is around - because no one else has really heard him sing before, it is a well kept secret between him and his Ghost that he’s actually pretty good. I personally like to keep the list of music that he likes to the 50’s-60’s bracket to match the kind of retrofuturistic style that the Golden Age tech in Destiny has. We the viewer read it as being ‘old’, even if it’s much, MUCH older than we realize because the setting is far future. That’s really all that matters, that we recognize it as being antiquated. His favorite of the very small pool of albums he has access to are Marty Robbins’ “Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs” and Nancy Sinatra’s “Boots” and “Sugar”. Sojourn teases him about it and has thusly introduced him to the feeling of shame. He also likes drinking alcohol even if it doesn’t actually make him drunk. Sometimes he does it out of spite. Someone you don’t like? Pound his drink right in front of him and walk away.

Phobias: Aesop’s kinda agoraphobic - he feels trapped and panicked in enclosed areas with lots of people, can be overstimulated by large groups of people talking/making a lot of noise. This makes him mostly useless in large-scale conflicts. He has managed to curb some of this by being accompanied by Sojourn or Calico to areas or situations that are high risk (whether that means a combat scenario or just going to The City), but this can get squirrely because Calico doesn’t have a ghost anymore and if killed would die permanently, and Sojourn has a tendency to get worked up in a fight and leave him behind on accident. If everything goes well though, Aesop is perfectly functional fighting in the small group that is his fireteam - himself, Sojourn (exo warlock) and King (human titan). His ghost, Chanticleer, can also sometimes talk him down if he’s starting to spin up into a panic attack. It’s something that he wants to fix, but, existing within the confines of your anxiety is a cold comfort that he indulges in. In general, he’s a very anxious person with a lot of existential dread, but he puts on a clownish, brazen act and hopes people don’t notice.

What They Would Be Famous For: Honestly, probably something very mundane, like breaking a dopey Guinness-style record or something like that. The entire point of Aesop is that he is very average in his skills in a world of blisteringly powerful space wizards and the like. I find his challenges are more about what goals he sets for himself and if those goals conflict with the status quo. Does his worth need be defined by how good he is at killing things vs. is the pursuit of personal wellness and happiness selfish in the context of a world fighting for its survival. Can these things coexist. etc.  

What They Would Get Arrested For: Probably something relatively benign done for the sake of pulling a dangerous stunt in the name of fun or looking cool. If he was a regular ass human in a normal modern setting, probably taking a nice vintage car for a joyride.

OC You Ship Them With: Aesop will have a love interest in the comic canon, but I’m gonna keep that under my hat for awhile yet. It’s not Cayde though, Cayde is dad. If Amanda Holliday was a man, he’d be utterly and entirely in love, but, alas. He’s still infatuated with her platonically though, and thinks she has pretty much the coolest job in the world. A promise of visiting her is a good way to entice him into going to The City.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: When death is not a factor, this becomes less of an issue, hah. Aesop and his bff Sojourn have killed each other a number of times in training, to an almost nonchalant degree. Aesop has also been killed much more in training, by his fireteam’s resident titan, King. Aesop will also find a rival in a local Fallen pike gang, the leader of which has the placeholder name of Easy Rider. I also have a Cabal villain I am throwing around and trying to decide if they’ll stick, but I need to do a lot more work and research on that. They’re my least favorite enemy type mechanically, but I think they could make perfectly acceptable antagonists in a narrative. 

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Aesop does not read. He can, he just doesn’t. I think maybe, MAYBE, someone could get him to read comic books, but those aren’t very sturdy and I feel like the amount of intact physical copies at this point would be almost nothing. The pool of movies and media that he has available to him are very sparse, but he absolutely drowns himself in spaghetti westerns, and would probably also like trashy action movies if they were available to him. I also think he would like Grease, HAHA. It has cars and guys in leather jackets singing in it. He’d also probably like any kind of rustic, western themed musical. And anything with cars in it would have his immediate interest no matter how bad it is, but he’d zone out in any parts he doesn’t like. 

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: To be honest I think most of the time, movies are a little too long for him and lose his interest partway through. He has a really short attention span and anything too long, complicated or artsy will lose him and he’ll start being fidgety and chatty and start making his boredom everyone else’s problem. Even if there’s a movie he likes, if there’s a part that’s boring to him, he zones out. He probably watches the same 2-3 movies over and over again, which is fine because his available library of media is probably really small. I like to think that they probably have movies in some kind of archive that they put up publicly in The City every once in awhile, like they have a projector that puts it on the side of a building and people just bring chairs and shit. Aesop has an aforementioned fear of crowds but he probably does some hunter parkour bullshit and perches somewhere at a healthy distance to watch from afar, as long as it’s something he thinks he would like. If he doesn’t he gets up and leaves.

Talents and/or Powers: Aesop seems to have an interest in vehicles, but due to a bet with his mentor, Calico, he has not actually been taught how to drive a Sparrow and so pines for them from afar. As said, he’s learning how to play an instrument, and if we want to be technical, is a Gunslinger speced Hunter with the Golden Gun super. He is very bad at being stealthy, as he is very impatient and is also a little bigger than the average exo. He’s just kinda tall and wide and tends to clunk around. If his Ghost Chanticleer wasn’t as clever as she was, Aesop would probably be perma-dead by now.

Why Someone Might Love Them: He’s kind of a dumbass and a space cadet but has the potential to be very sweet, and the people he cares about, he latches on to really hard. Similarly, when set to a task he cares about, he does not quit. Unfortunately, many of his goals are unresolved, but it does not mean that he will stop trying. If he were to, say, become romantically interested in someone, he would go to great lengths to connect with him, even if it meant doing things Aesop himself may not like. In specific circumstances, Aesop may find that he has a great capacity for nurturing and bringing out the best in other people, a talent Aesop himself undervalues. Though he’s not all that intelligent, Aesop is very reflective and existentially inquisitive, and thinks about a lot of big picture stuff that other people might push aside in an era of crisis. Though he may not understand science or the way the world works in a mechanical sense, he is awed by it, and is a great appreciator of natural beauty. He’d cry at a particularly beautiful sunrise, if he could cry. I’d say he could be described as having a romantic soul.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: To be honest, Aesop has trouble establishing empathy with people he doesn’t know very well, and so is less invested in Earth’s plight than he probably should be (it would not be hard for Dead Orbit to sway him to their views). This makes some people think that he doesn’t take his charge seriously, and they also usually assume that he’s a slacker because he’s plateaued in his abilities so early. Really, Aesop is acutely socially anxious, can have panic attacks in large crowds, and generally prefers to stay away from The City unless he needs to go there, and so has a big emotional disconnect from it. Calico and Chanticleer have tried to get him more accustomed to groups, but has been thusfar mostly unsuccessful. His insecurity and anxiety also cause him to pull odd, dangerous stunts to prove his worth, making him unreliable and impulsive. He can bungle social interactions rather spectacularly, and is easily goaded into doing really stupid shit. Really, he is a person who may just be “too much” for some.

How They Change: Oooooghhh….I can’t talk about this. I forgot how frustrating it is to not be able to talk about things because you’re going to make a comic out of it. Suffice it to say he’s gonna change a lot.

Why You Love Them: I think Aesop encapsulates a lot of anxieties I have post-college. Aesop is a person in transition who is unsure of his future, knowing only that he can’t quit now, because quitting means failure and failure means death. Because he is in transition, he is anxious about forming relationships with people, worried that either he will be left behind by them, or that they won’t like him when he’s “finished” becoming a person. I think he has a complex relationship with his personhood and sense of self. I dunno, I think that’s an interesting anxiety for a protagonist to have. I am also interested to see what Aesop will end up contributing to his society/organization and his interpersonal relationships, and if he’ll be happy with it. I’ve put a lot of work into him, the ‘original Aesop’ I had in mind might as well be a completely different character now. Aesop was originally a little cameo that I did in our TTRPG game, Godslaughter, because my boyfriend had put a dunmer cameo character into our game and I wanted to return the favor. Then he made a sheet for him. Then I decided to keep him around, then I decided to play Destiny 2, then I decided I loved it, lol. There is still a version of Aesop in the TTRPG but he is so incredibly different, they may as well be different characters. We refer to him as “Bad Aesop” but should probably call him something more dignified (we won’t).