#debating whether to make the next part Path B or C

[turtleblogatlast]

As an artist and/or writer, what is one thing you think you do well? What is one thing you would like to improve on?

Oh I completely missed this sorry!

Um, hm…as for what I do well…maybeee emotion? Maybe? I really like messing around with how I present how a character is feeling both in art and writing, so I’m hoping that comes across well.

Some things I would like to improve on is probably consistency, keeping up with things, and making sure I make things as in character as I can.

[a-table-of-fics]

Cull to Adventure, Chapter 5, Draft 1

[[As Tumblr increased the size limits for posts, I can finally put this chapter draft all together.]]

Marie was already in a sour mood, having woken up far earlier than preferred. But it got worse as she realized she might as well have slept in; hardly anyone was around today. The heat wave, combined with the fact that all games were postponed until the respawn points have power again, meant that no one was around. Marie knew she couldn’t move too far from where the Outpost was without drawing unwanted attention, but it was a bit demoralizing. She was glad she had the parasol for the scant shade it provided in the midday sun, but she still tugged at her kimono every so often.

Well, if she wanted to find her cousin and the stolen Zapfish, she would have to do it herself. She didn’t want a second celebrity disappearance to cause more chaos, but she didn’t have much choice. Agent 2 would have to complete the rescue mission alone.

As she looked in the Outpost for her Charger, she debated whether Gramps should be alerted at this point. She decided against it, still; he was probably stressed enough about his mission with Agent 3, and she didn’t want him throwing himself in danger trying to find Callie. That was her job, darn it!

She opened a drawer and found her charger waiting, but…where was her uniform? The armored hoodie, the short, the boots, even the headset were all missing. She rustled around; maybe a bit of disorganized Callie rubbed off on her…but no, they were gone! Someone was in here! They took the Splattershot and one of the Ink Tanks, too!

A flash of panic came over Marie; someone had come in, and the outpost was breached! But… wait, why wasn’t her charger taken? Or any other supplies? Just the Agent getup and weapons—Oh.

Oh no.

She ran out of the shack, stumbling over her kimono a few times as she went for the manhole to Inkopolis. She had to get to Ammo Knights, and fast. It was lucky there wasn’t really anyone in the Square; while Marie took care to make sure she wasn’t immediately recognized by the adoring public, she didn’t care as much in the rush she was in.

The doors to the Ammo Knights store burst open the moment she unlocked them. Sheldon barely had time to look up in shock before the idol was in the back, frantically booting the computer up. Several monitors came up, each showing different angles of a new part of Octarian territory. None of the cameras could see anything, but when Marie put the headset on and heard panting and slight whimpering, her suspicions were confirmed.

Cull had gone into Octo Canyon alone.

Marie took a deep breath, turned the mic on, and coughed politely.

“Eh—” started Cull’s yelp, before he remembered where he was and clammed up.

“Oh good, you remembered the headset,” Marie said, keeping her voice level. “Okay, I think we can get you through this, but… I’m not sure where you are…”

“C-came in a-and made it to ch-checkpoint…”

Marie checked. The simulated sunny beach area in Octopolia did have a trail of green, including some inflated sponges. And it led right to a smaller respawner, directly in front of a massive road of pink ink. From where the camera was situated, Marie could see a Balloon Fish, but there were a few things behind it that were too blurry to see.

“They got some- some kinda robot b-bombs!”

“Octopods?” Marie asked. “Shouldn’t be a big deal, right? They just run at you.”

“…B-but that one at the start was so fast��C-can I really take more than one in a f-fight…?”

Marie leaned back in her chair, noting where the blurs were.

“You don’t have to, ex-Agent 4! If you can take that Balloon Fish, the Octopods should all pop with it!”

“B-but if I go up there, w-won’t they pop it and…?”

“Nah, they’ll run up to try to blast you. The Balloon Fish’ll be fine!”

Bad time for a joke, Marie realized, as she saw something shake in the respawner.

“Look, look,” she said, frantically trying to clear Cull’s head of some of the anxiety. “All you gotta do is keep your distance! Pop that balloon before the Octopods get to you.”

Cull finally surfaced, out of the respawner, and swallowed. He looked at the expanse of Octarian pink before him; it was going to take a lot of ink to even get to the Octo-bombs. He started firing, and Marie saw that his attention was divided between his path-making and the upcoming encounter.

“Hey, eyes on the prize, kid, not the road!”

Well, now the kid’s movement was slower, but at least he seemed more alert.

A thought came to Marie.

“…Ignore that when you start driving, ok?”

The Octopods started to rush in, but it was too late. Cull had already hit the Balloon Fish, taking the bombs and their weird red balloons with them. Octarians had the strangest ways of holding Power Eggs.

“Nice.”

That just left a layout of crates in a flattened “u” shape against the wall, a wall which had two Balloon Fish attached to it. As Cull looked up and around, Marie took a moment to swap through the cameras, finding a launchpad at the top, and the next camera showed a checkpoint. Thankfully, nothing between there and their current position Cull would have to worry about.

“All right, so just pop those balloons and swim up there. Nothing to worry about.”

Cull looked, hesitantly, but nodded. The Balloon Fish made short work of those boxes and covered the wall in green. But… he hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. Marie could hear sheepish mutters of “uh” and “oh boy” over her headset. She was about to ask what the holdup was, maybe throw in a joke about enjoying his handiwork, but all that came out was “wh” before she realized the problem – he was a slow swimmer when it wasn’t a vertical slope.

And she had seen the kid climb, too. This looked like a tougher thing to scale, sure, but his grip back then was impressive, and she was sure he could have figured something out. At the very least, it would probably be better than him struggling to swim up like he would have to now.

“Okay kid,” she said, attempting to hide her haste in correcting this, “I don’t usually recommend this, but you might want to try a running jump here.”

“O-okay…”

Marie watched as the ex-Agent stepped back, steeled himself, and sprinted to the wall. He jumped, and Marie thought he was going to slam into the wall, his squidforming was so close. However, it wasn’t close enough to conceal the fact his tentacles were… well, half-gone. He disappeared in the ink in a flash, but Marie could still tell, especially as he splashed and struggled to get the vertical movement.

Marie couldn’t do much more than watch; explaining how to swim to a fellow Inkling would just be dumb, and she wasn’t good at motivational platitudes. Still, she could try to encourage.

“Almost halfway there. Just keep breathing.”

“Just got past the second Balloon Fish; you’re almost there!”

Cull finally slipped over the edge onto wooden floor again. He couldn’t even kidform, and Marie could hear him panting and fully view his squid form.

His fins were much more disk-shaped than most, making his silhouette look less like an arrow and more like a mushroom with a point on top where his mantle ended. His skin had a spotted texture, as if someone had lightly sprayed him with darker green paint. More prominent, however, were his eight arms, all irregular stumps of what was expected, clearly from an injury long ago. His two tentacles, while about as long as most Inklings’, were notably thinner, and showed the same signs of being cut off at the end.

And Marie had sent him headfirst into danger. Worse yet, he refused to leave.

Cull wasn’t panting for too long; he soon kidformed, and was silent on his walk to the launchpad. Marie wasn’t sure what to say; she may like snarking, but humiliating someone was something else entirely.

A few quick key presses, and Marie could watch him land on the next section, where there didn’t seem to be much going on. There was a single sponge floating in the middle of a gap in the road, but not much else to see other than a few pillars. As Cull tentatively clambered down in case there was something, Marie switched to the next available camera. She could see Cull fill the sponge with ink to make a bridge in the distance, but more importantly, there were patrolling Octarians moving in a synchronous circle on some grates that were jutting out of one of the pillars.

“Octotroopers above you,” Marie called out, as Cull walked forward. She could see him step back onto the sponge, looking up and spotting the enemies. He tentatively moved forward, but never so much that he committed to a plan before stepping back. Thankfully, neither Octo seemed to have seen him, their gaze focused squarely on what was in front of them rather than what was below.

“C’mon,” Marie said, after about fifteen seconds of this, “You gotta do something if you wanna get outta here!”

“Uhm…”

“Oh for— just go! Take ‘em out and find a way up!”

Well, at least he was moving forward. The bad news was, the Octarians saw him, and began firing shots through the grate. At least the ex-Agent 4 was aware of this, and trying to zig-zag a little bit. He made it under the grate, with only a few spatters of pink on him for it. When he shot straight up and splatted one of the Octotroopers, however, his reflexive ducking was not enough to stop himself from being coated in green ink.

Despite herself, Marie had to stifle a snicker. Maybe it was just a needed release from stress, but there was something adorable about that pratfall. It reminded her of something that happened when she herself was younger, when she played one-on-one with Callie. The exact same thing happened to her, except she completely missed Callie…

“Y-you there?”

Marie took a breath, composing herself. Cull didn’t need the idea that she was laughing at him, nor did he need to hear her worrying about the other Squid Sister.

“Yeah, um�� look for a way up the pillar. Looks like the grating goes to another floor… Just watch for that Octoslob and you’ll be fine…”

But Cull wasn’t looking up now. His attention was caught by something out of range of the cameras. He fired ink offscreen, slowly and carefully. Marie didn’t hear any return fire or Octarian shouts from his microphone, but all the same, this was concerning.

“Uh, I said ‘up’ the pillar…”

“Th-there was a lot of pink ink over here…J-just want to be sure…”

“I understand that,” Marie said, quietly kicking herself for not thinking of the possibility of an ambush, “but they’d have a hard time chasing you up. You might be better off—”

She heard the sound of wood breaking, and hoped to the Crane that Cull was alone; she’d be hard pressed to help him if she couldn’t see.

“Huh…Is that…?” he said, after a pregnant pause.

“Hmm? What was that?”

“N-nevermind, I must be mistaken…”

Marie heard some paper rustling, and then some grunting and splashing before Cull emerged from behind the pillar, now on the second floor. He took a few breaths, leaning against the column, before finally heading to the wall.

After making a break through a few more Octarians and some kind of wall-cleaning robot, he made it to a dead end. Behind a bunch of crates destroyed by a nearby Balloon Fish, there was nothing but a sheer drop to the facilities miles below. To his left, he could just see a large wooden wall, with the launchpad there. He groaned.

All Marie could say was “Sorry, kid, but you gotta make it through this.”

Cull stepped back to look, but he didn’t know if he could make another climb like that so soon. Instead, he looked to the re-inflated Balloon Fish, and then at the wall; not even at the launchpad!

Marie was at a loss for words when she saw the kid start clambering onto the enormous ink bomb, and rather quickly at that. Sure, Cull slipped once or twice, but he never once lost his grip. Within fifteen seconds, he was wobbling on top of it, looking almost like an eight-year-old bouncing on a waterbed. He sat down and started rocking, as if he was trying to get comfortable.

“Okay, look,” Marie finally said, “I get it may be tiring, but that’s no excuse for lazing around and…”

She stopped when he stood up, the Balloon Fish rolling back so far that Marie stood up, shocked at how far over the ledge Cull was. Cull, for his part, had an expression like he swallowed a sunfish whole, but kept his eyes to the wall he had to climb. He took one step forward, waiting for the Fish to roll enough…

And then he jumped. His hands reached out, and he was able to grab onto the ledge. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have been able to keep his grip, but it was dawning on Marie that he was a whip-lash squid.

He hoisted himself up, finding another piece of Sardinium, then looked over the edge to see about that launchpad. It was a simple swing down, and Cull was on his rapid way to the next area.

Marie was there to witness each remaining step. The ambush from above, where Cull leapt screaming into his first Splashdown. The attack immediately after, where he managed to actually take one or two of the Troopers before they even landed. Cull getting splatted again by the remaining Octarians, though he didn’t gasp as frantically when he respawned this time. He was able to finish off the other Octotroopers and make it to some more sponge-scaling situations and an easy battle.

After a bridge made from sponges filled with Balloon Fish ink, Marie’s eyes widened. Up ahead, a bulbous flying thing she knew all too well, and she was about to cry out a warning, but stopped herself. She was already dealing with a bit of a nervous wreck; no sense in giving him a heart attack in all three of his.

Instead, she said, as plainly as she could, “An Octobomber. Gross.”

“What—” Cull started, before yelping. He just saw a Splat Bomb land by him, and it wasn’t his.

Marie sighed as he respawned. Even if she didn’t want to scare the kid, that warning may have been less than helpful.

“Sorry, squid,” she said, apologetically. “Didn’t want to scare you…”

Cull walked back over to where he was, far more slowly this time. Shooting gobs of purple at him was one thing, but now they were hurling bombs at him!

“Ugh… how close is the Zapfish?”

Marie blinked. She hadn’t even been looking for the Zapfish; she was just making sure this kid got out alive.

“Um…”

She could see Cull looking around, mostly up and at the corners of platforms. She assumed he was looking for the camera, but he was nowhere close. At least it kept him safe while she re-calibrated the ZapSeek program that Sheldon wrote.

“Let’s see… the Zapfish is… uh…”

“Ye—?” was all Marie heard in response, before the computer suddenly went black. Her eyes widened, and she frantically mashed the power button, but all she heard was the equally frantic clicking of the button.

Sheldon opened the door behind her, frantically pulling out a set of keys. He dashed to a caged area behind the computer, where he kept the generator.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, trying each key in turn as fast as he could, “Without Zapfish, we gotta rely on this generator, and as you know, this is an old thing, and the fact is, it’ll take a bit to refuel it and start it up again, not to mention the computer booting time—”

“Sheldon!” Marie said, sharply. “Just tell me what I can do to help get it back! There’s a kid lost in Octopia here!”

“Right, right,” Sheldon’s capped silhouette nodded. “Sorry. So, I need you to take the rip cord here and wait to give it a good yank! There’s a coupla things I gotta keep in place over here while you do that…”

Marie walked over, but saw multiple cords that looked pull-worthy.

“Um…”

“You got the rip cord?”

“No…”

“All right, hold on…”

The sound of Sheldon pouring whatever the generator needed slowed to a halt, and he patiently walked over, instantly finding the correct cord and handing it to her.

“I’ll let you know when to pull. It might take a few tries for it to start, but keep at it.”

Marie nodded, not understanding when she heard a variety of switches being flicked, as well as some clatters.

“All right, you ready?”

She pulled the rip cord. A rumble, but nothing else.

“Okay, try again.”

It took a few more pulls, but the generator eventually roared to life.

“Now, lemme take care of getting you started, and I’ll be out of here…”

Marie didn’t dispute that. She was a lot of things, but she was no computer squid. She waited for the slow booting, the password entry, the appropriate programs written by Sheldon…

It felt like hours, but everything Marie was used to was back up. Sheldon saluted, then went back to working on his weapons.

Right, so she could flip through the cameras again, and find Cull who was… still standing at that checkpoint. Her audio wasn’t working, but she could tell he was just calling out, trying to get a response.

It took a minute for Marie to find the volume and fix it, but she was greeted with a quiet, almost fearful “…hello?...Yes?...Is the Z-Zapfish close…?”

“Yeah, hang on,” Marie said, putting on a practiced smile. “It was just a technical thing, sorry.”

“O-okay…”

“Just keep moving forward, m’kay? That Octoslob might have bombs, but he’s pretty slow, so just keep on your guard, okay?”

Cull gulped, but still started taking steps forward. It was slow and halting, with him looking around as if he was expecting the Octobomber to have flown to where he was.

Marie wasn’t going to spur him too far forward; the camera systems for other areas were still loading, and she didn’t want Cull dying down there, especially if it would be from something super avoidable.

Suddenly, after some tentative advancement, Cull ducked into the ink. Marie switched from the loading screen back to him the moment she heard a splash. He was nearing the Octobomber.

“Remember, kid: those Splat Bombs have timers on ‘em. Keep moving, and don’t let ‘em catch you! That’s a rule of the battlefield!”

Cull wasn’t moving.

“Come on, this is no time for hide and splat! You gotta move forward! Once you get to the Zapfish, you can get out of there!”

“But…” Cull whispered, still not so much as swimming an inch, “I-I don’t know…”

“Look, kid,” Marie sighed. “If you want to find your way home, you need to get past this guy. I already told you; keep moving and you’ll be a harder target for him!”

After a second (presumably waiting for the fat flying octopus to look away, which Marie had to admit would be a decent strategy), Cull emerged and started running, firing wildly as he did so. The Octobomber flinched as ink hit them, and they spun around, quickly lobbing a bomb at the Inkling intruder. Cull kept running forward, barely out of the blast’s range. He kept shooting, somehow missing half his shots as he did so.

It gave the Octobomber enough time to fire another bomb. Marie would have congratulated Cull on his plan of circling to avoid the explosives, but she was too busy gasping as he inattentively moved towards the edge.

“Kid, watch it—”

“Yeah, just keep movin’! Works great!”

He cheered as he splatted the enemy, but the cheer was short lived as he fell off the ledge.

Marie didn’t see his ghost swim up. She waited, desperately scanning every pixel, rotating every camera, but she saw nothing.

She started breathing again when she saw his hands inch onto solid ground, followed by the rest of him.

“Oh, thank Cod,” Marie said, more under her breath than anything. “Right, so….”

The hacks into the next area of security cameras finally loaded. Marie wasn’t sure what the delay was. Something about cache? She’d have to ask Sheldon later, but for now she looked into the next set of cameras, and…

“Hey, good news!” she said. “You’re almost to the Zapfish and outta there!”

“Uh, y-yeah…” Cull said, sounding like Marie did when she first learned how to fake smiles. “Uh, al-almost might be a strong word…”

“What are you talking abou—oh.”

A quick pan of one of the cams showed the problem. A series of dry sponges formed a line from the floor Cull was on to the floating island the Zapfish was on. Even if he used the Balloon Fish lined across the sides to fill them up, this would be a struggle for him to swim up what most Inklings could with just a bit of effort.

“Er… yeah, this might be tough…” Marie trailed off. “I’m sure you can make it up there, though…”

“Nnn…”

She saw him standing there, craning his neck to see the sun-shaped wall far above him. She couldn’t see his expression, but she could tell he wasn’t exactly readying up for the climb. Heck, he was walking back to a ledge (thankfully, a part with a railing this time). He looked around a little, but he didn’t see anywhere else he could try to go.

The blue skies made from blue monitor light surrounded him on all sides, illuminating a sparkling blue sea under him. Looking out on the wooden platform into the distant waters like this was filling him with nostalgia, back when he could only be halfway between squid and kid at most. He remembered having to brush his tentacles off his eyes a lot, to see a cloudless sky like this, with rocky beaches and wooden docks. The false sun was still a good one, adding to the illusion pretty well. Even if the air was still the stale air you’d find in caves, it didn’t matter; the atmosphere was so much like that of a beach, giving a very surreal vibe of familiarity along with the floating platforms, debris, and screens. This was inspiring.

“You okay, kid?”

“Hmm? O-oh, yeah, j-just needed a moment…”

He pulled himself away from the view, having calmed himself a bit. He took a breath, and looked at the challenge before him.

He fired at the first sponge until it was dripping with ink. He took a breath, and climbed up to the top of it. It was easier to just climb up the one, and he still had a dry, shrunken sponge in front of him.

He stepped onto the dry sponge, and was about to fire to inflate it as well, but he realized he’d have to do still more climbing with the other pair up ahead. He wasn’t sure if he’d be up to that; even that one small swim took effort. He still wanted to get the Zapfish in something resembling a timely manner, so he looked either way. It’d be a tricky thing, but he’d done crazier tagging a spot on Moray Towers the one time.

Standing on the tinier platform, he looked at the Balloon Fish on either side, and popped one.

Marie’s jaw dropped. She just saw Cull get flung like a ragdoll as the sponge exploded out to its full size under him. He flailed and hollered, but not as intensely as she thought it warranted. Heck, it almost seemed planned, as he landed flat on his back on top of the next set of filled sponges. He grunted, but he quickly got up and leapt at the final wall between himself and the Zapfish’s platform. A couple of grunts and kicks against the wall, and he could move from dangling by his fingers to actually getting onto the platform.

From there, Marie could view him freeing and petting the Zapfish. He sat down as the platform moved to the exit, the Zapfish on his lap. It was kind of adorable, honestly.

[hoodedhavok]

Hopeless II

a/n: okay so this is gonna be a shortish one, also i could’ve went two ways with this, continue on after their confrontation or write the parts before when they were in a relationship. I chose the former. there’ll be another part after this, and yeah, im not a fan of this tbh but feedback is definitely appreciated!! 

part one

warnings: angst!!

You knew of him before you met him, you would occasionally see him in the coffee shop by your house, ordering a large black coffee with two shots of espresso and one sugar. You caught on that his order varied, depending on the time of day or his mood. His most frequent drink was a large black coffee, but on days where you noticed that his dark circles were more prominent, you heard him ask for two shots of espresso. He always seemed content but on those days you felt bad for him as he grumbled out his order like a stereotypical customer in need of their caffeine fix. However, while you had nearly memorized all three of his orders, you were yet to learn his name.

It was a Tuesday, nearing 8pm and you were in line for a mocha, with extra whip. You had been studying for exams, your notes scattered across the table you secured earlier. If not for the signature hair you wouldn’t have realized it was him in front of you. You paid attention to his order - large black coffee with three shots of espresso. Poor guy was probably having a shittier day than usual and your heart ached for him.

“Add mine to the order, will ya?” You shot a smile at the barista as you stepped to the side of him and tapped your card on the machine, effectively paying for his drink without giving him the time to protest. The idea that the baristas remembered your order made you happy but you also felt ashamed that you went so frequently they were able to remember it.

“And who do I owe the pleasure of buying my drink to?” You smiled at him, your brain blanking at your own name because of his damn good looks.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.” You didn’t know what to focus on, the hair, the height, the eyes. The barista passed over his drink first but he remained.

“My name is Billy. Billy Russo.” Your drink was passed to you, “You really love whipped cream.” At the sight of your frown, he lightly shoved you. “I’ve seen you in here before, I’ve also seen you with whipped cream on your nose because you get excited over it.”

“You’ve noticed me before?” He nodded, the smile he had plastered on his face made the dark circles under his eyes near unnoticeable. The blush that creeped across your face earned a chuckle from him, however you refrained from revealing that you had also noticed him.

“Can you really blame me?” You both stepped away from the counter, him following you to your seat. “As lovely as this conversation was, I have to run, I’ll see you again Y/N?” You nodded, telling him to have a goodnight before sitting at your seat and debating whether or not studying was as important as squealing over the interaction to your best friend. You determined it was, but not before messaging them telling them that the large black coffee guy’s name was Billy.

~~~

You forced yourself away from the memories as you ordered your usual, the large mocha with extra whip that you took to-go now. No longer did you sit in the booth closest to the counter just so you could relish in hearing his voice. The baristas had changed, your visits became less frequent as the place was plagued with the memories of Billy. Of him sitting across from you as you highlighted notes, of him taking the free seat in front of you and handing you your drink. The memories suffocated you more now, and you didn’t think that was possible. But somehow it did, because on the television screen in the corner of the cafe played the news, BREAKING NEWS, William Russo, CEO of Anvil Security dead. You were grateful you didn’t have your drink yet, because you would have dropped it. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, no, no, no. This was not possible.

“Miss, your drink.” You blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, gratefully taking the drink and making your way to your car that was parked outside.

Your ears were ringing, it had been four days since the incident at your apartment. Four damn days. Your head hit the back of your seat as your hands shook, ignoring your phone’s constant ringing. Your breathing became quicker, tears began streaming down your face as you struggled to grasp the reality that Billy Russo was dead. Somehow, you found yourself answering your phone, you just wanted it to stop ringing.

“Miss. Y/L/N. You were listed as next of kin for William Russo, I regret to inform you he has recently passed away due to his injuries.” You squeezed your eyes shut, you didn’t want to live in a world without him - even if he was a murderer. “I’m sorry for your loss.” You hung the phone up, and wiped the tears that stained your cheek. You took a shaky breath and looked up realizing that whatever injuries he had were more serious than they had told you over the phone. Your phone rang again, Frank-enstein. The caller-id had displayed. You sent it to voicemail before shutting your phone off and driving back to your apartment.

~~

You barely made it to your couch, you grabbed the throw pillow and held it close to your chest as you sobbed. You never wanted him dead, you could never want him dead. Billy was your everything a few years ago and it was easy to deal with it because you knew if you needed him he was a call away. But now, he was gone. Completely. And he thought you hated him. You remembered the look on his face when he left your apartment that night, the hurt in his eyes as he walked off. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He died thinking you hated him, you didn’t see him in the hospital, you left him alone. Your sobs intensified at the thought, your body shuddered as the grief suffocated you.

You stayed like that for hours, eventually your sobs stopped and you had fallen asleep, curled into the throw pillow. You had awoken to the sound of knocking, someone was at your door and from what you could assume from the knocks, they seemed pissed.

“Y/N if you don’t open this door now, I will knock it down!” You recognized Frank’s voice as you forcibly uncurled yourself, your legs aching as you walked across the living room to the door.

“What do you want.” You couldn’t imagine your appearance, your hair was probably a mess and it was likely your eyes were red and swollen.

“You look like crap.” He held up a drink, reminding you that you had forgotten your drink in your car. “I brought you coffee.” Frank was many things, but he could never make your cup of coffee the way you liked it. Nonetheless, you thanked him and let him inside.

“Ya know, I know he was a murderer and all that, but fuck it hurts.” You confessed, Frank nodded, part of him felt empty at the loss of his former best friend.

“It’s okay to miss him.” You only nodded, running a hand through your knotted hair. You could see his eye movements, scanning your face for any emotion other than grief.

“Do you know what happened?” Frank nodded and motioned for you to sit down as he went through what occured within the past few weeks. Detailing how he discovered Billy was working for Rawlins, detailing what Billy did and finally telling you something you already knew, Billy was aware of the planned murders of Frank’s family.

“He didn’t say anything because of me.” Your voice was soft as you confessed, “Rawlins had threatened me before, and he told Billy that if he interfered, I was gonna pay the damn consequence.” Frank scanned your face, trying to look for a sign of dishonesty but found none.

“I’m sorry.” Frank continued to tell you about the incident at Curtis’ and told you to the part of him scraping Billy’s head against the mirror. You were silent, your mind racing at the information given to you. “I didn’t kill him though, he needed to live with that shit. He needed to be reminded of this every damn day, just like I am.”

“Do you know his cause of death?” Frank shook his head, watching as you closed your eyes and took deep breaths. “He died of his fucking injuries.” Your voice leveled out, anger dripping from them as you stood. “He died of the fucking injuries you inflicted on him!” Your voice had raised, a near shout when you addressed Frank. “The only person who caused suffering to was me Frank. Because god, I could live with being away from him but knowing he was still safe. But he’s dead now!” Frank stood up and took a step forward, his hands reaching up to your shoulders to steady you. You collapsed into his arms, your grief consuming you as he softly hummed to calm you down.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t want to blame him for this, Billy made these choices, choices that led him down the wrong path.

~~~

A letter came a month after his funeral, a month after you resumed wearing the ring he once gave you. The handwriting was too familiar to you, the messy scrawl made your heart ache more.

Y/N,

I’m sorry. I came to you that night as a goodbye and to see if you still cared. I wish I could do that night over again, and not hold that knife against your throat because maybe you would have greeted me like you used to. I know you’ll analyze the date on the letter and I know you’ll realize I’m alive. I’m not the same man you fell in love with, I mean this figuratively and literally. Perhaps we’ll meet again a few years from now, hopefully you’ll let me buy you the drink this time.

With all my love,  

B.R.

tagging: @anamarierosee @ninjathrowingstork @ivegotillegalsinmybottom @nyotauhura @sunaeroglu @king4thesirens @jeffreydeanmorgans @untitledandrandom @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @astceaa @lalafral @brought-by-wind @nostalgic-uncertainty @deathbeforeboringfonts @anolympianhero @tiredofthisgeneration ​

@amateuratheart @whitepanthergirl @princesscassiebaratheon @l-l-c-m-w-b @haritini2000 @timeless-flogging @icecoldghost @rln108 @azure-winter-crow @wonderwoman292 @lizhart1701 @goldesteins @thinemineours @misschief1996 @salior-guardian96 @sippindacres @anne-kollay (yes i tagged everyone who liked the first part, sue me)

[jaskaler-blog]

11/12/18 - Research Proposal

My Object of Desire is a collection of Miniature Paintings from India. The British surgeon Thomas Holbein Hendley commissioned these paintings for his book “The Rulers of India and the Chiefs of Rajputana, 1550 to 1897”. They were given to the Oriental Museum by Hendley’s family in 1962. Rachel highlighted to me that they are grouped indiscriminately. The first set of miniature paintings are numbered DUROM.1962.251.a to DUROM.1962.251.j. Also included in my research are DUROM.1962.253.a - DUROM.1962.253.f. The next set are DUROM.1962.254.a, DUROM.1962.254.c (DUROM.1962.254.b does not exist). DUROM.1962.230 is a stand-alone miniature but not part of the book and of a Mughal emperor so whether or not it will be useful to my research is uncertain.  The next set are DUROM.U208.A- DUROM.U208.D, DUROM.U208.E1, DUROM.U208.E2 (this is an ‘unidentified’ ink sketch on the back of a miniature painting), DUROM.U208.F - DUROM.U208.M. They appear to be grouped by region e.g. 1962.251 are rulers of the Birkaner State.

From the museum’s archives and some general research I have gathered that Dr Thomas Hendley first arrived in India in 1869. After developing an obsession for Indian art, he commissioned the book “The Rulers of India and the Chiefs of Rajputana, 1550 to 1897” which attempted to document previous and contemporary rulers of the then Rajputana area. These miniature paintings are the initial copies undertaken by Indian artists as they travelled the region. They range in size and shape but are generally oval. The 1962.251 series tend to be around 42mm wide and 53mm long, while the rest of the collection are slightly bigger and vary in size. The materials used are opaque water colour on paper. The purpose of these miniature paints is fascinating. They were copied again and thus further altered from their originals for Dr Hendley’s book, making them multifunctional. Their period (apart from the solitary Mughal emperor) is from 1850-1899.  

My initial reaction to these discoveries was astonishment at the enormity of the task - India between 1550 – 1897 was a volatile country, with regions being drawn and redrawn and leaders succeeding as quickly as they were overthrown. Lands were united and divided in rapid succession.  I also questioned the motives of Dr Hendley to wish to document and thus entrench the history of such a fluid region.

I went in to see Rachel with a few areas of interest but some concerns about each.  My desire to study the miniature paintings originated from the object handling session where I was able to familiarise myself with them much more intimately. Rachel informed me that miniature portraits were supposed to be handled and not wall mounted.  Through this handling I gained a new and true appreciation for them. I was able to hold them close to my eye and view previously concealed detail.  From this point I was set on researching miniature paintings, but I was faced with a task of deciding from which period and region as they are an expansive art form.  

My interest in Indian art is ubiquitous. It was heightened by attending the Empire of the Sikhs exhibition at SOAS over the summer. There was a focus on the regional rulers present before the arrival of the British, culminating in Maharaja Ranjit Singh. At this exhibition I saw my first ever miniature painting (though it was wall mounted).  I was fascinated by the realisation that painting these portraits fractured religious boundaries.  A painting of a Sikh maharaja had been painted by a Muslim artist using Hindu symbolism. This was captivating.  As a result, when the subject of Indian miniatures arose in lectures my choice was clear. Furthermore, I was interested in discovering the motivations of Dr Hendley to consolidate the rulers of a region in this regimental way.  The role of these paintings as guides for book illustrations was also a reason for my choice.  After the initial lecture on the Westernisation of Eastern art, I recognised this transformation in the miniatures as they were placed into oval frames and different symbolism was adopted.

I met with Rachel at the Oriental Museum to assess the information already available on the paintings.  It appeared from the online collection that there was a plethora of information, however, Rachel clarified that the information was mostly what was known of the objects at the time and only minimal research had been conducted on this specific series of miniature paintings since their arrival in 1962.  Rachel gave me all the information that the museum has on these objects, approximately 30 pages of tables of descriptive information.

One discrepancy that was highlighted to me was the way the objects were catalogued. They are not all under a consistent numerical system. It may be that the portraits were divided up into groups, working from the book and then numbered differently. Hopefully once more information is known about the book the rational for this will be illuminated.  Rachel informed me that little is known to the museum about the book. This peaked my interest and I am keen to follow this line of research and view a copy of the book.

I am keen to view an original copy of Dr Hendley’s book. This will this act as a valuable primary source to my research as I will be able to directly compare the miniature paintings in the Oriental Museum to their copies in the text.  There are both 20th and 21st century copies of the text. A hard cover of the book was published in 2011 but is expensive to acquire. There is a copy of the book in the British Library which I will attempt to see over the Christmas holidays. An original from 1897 is also housed in the National Art library within the V&A. To gain some context of Dr Hendley’s book itself it would also be useful to read some articles in which it has been referenced. For example: ‘Sachdev, V. & Tillotson, G. Building Jaipur: The Making of an Indian City’.  That a book of this time is still being used as a source could raise troubling questions as its reach and expertise is narrow, thus, understanding in which context it is referred to will be useful.

It would also be useful for me to comprehend the context and history of miniature paintings. For this studying Persian Miniatures through texts such as ‘Grabra, O. (1999), Mostly miniatures: An introduction to Persian Painting’ may be of use.  It would also be useful for me to expand my knowledge of Indian art itself. For this, texts such as ‘Crill, R. (1990), Arts of India 1500-1900’ would be of use. Additionally, to explore the impact of empire on art: ‘King,C. & Dunbridge, N. (1999), Rabindranath Tagore: Making Modern Art in India before Independence’. ‘Mitter, P. (2001), Indian Art’ may also provide some relevant chapters. Finally, ‘Dimand, S. Persian and Indian Miniature Paintings’ is another article I will examine.

Comparing these miniatures with other Indian miniatures in the Oriental Museum’s collection such as ‘the Royal couple making love’ (DUROM.1976.291) would be a useful exercise. The varying use of colour and imagery would emphasise the functionality of this particular series of miniature paintings.  This would illuminate the differences that are present in original, organic miniature paintings compared to those which were commissioned by foreigners.

I have contacted the V&A to be allocated a 90 minute session in which to observe the book. I have also enquired into whether there is anyone with expertise on the matter who could be of assistance while I am examining the object.

There are many avenues which my research may take.  My initial interest lay in the concept of investigating an investigative piece. Whether this book which attempted to document regional rulers can be construed as art is an intriguing question and one that my research could undertake to answer. The book itself was attempting to document and discover, mirroring my current undertaking and the concept of illustrations as an art form is debated.

I could use these miniature paintings as a stepping stone to investigate the art form more expansively. Their scope is massive; differing culturally, thematically and chronologically. My interest in Mughal and Persian miniature painting would complement this path of research. The multitude of symbolism present in miniature paintings was highlighted to be both at the exhibition mentioned above and in lectures.

I am however keen to continue investigating Dr Hendley’s book itself. The motivations and desires behind its creation are fascinating when gleamed alongside the contemporaneous struggle for domination by the British Empire.  I would be intrigued to research the scope of this book - are there others of its kind? How and why was it funded? Did it serve a purpose at the time beyond Dr Hendley’s fascination? The desire to understand and document the fluid and disorganised regional rulers of this foreign land is intriguing and indicative of a people who thought themselves superior.

Alternatively, my research could undertake a more artistic evaluation of the physical differences between the miniatures in the Oriental Museum, the paintings in the book and the originals (if any are known).  Comparing these would raise numerous questions about how art evolves and transforms with the movement of people and goods. The evolution of the portraits and the shifts in colour and shape would provide a plethora of research options.  

After the object handling session and the subsequent realisation that miniature paintings (in their frequent role as illustrations to text) are supposed to be handled, I wished to further investigate this concept.  As art resurfaced across the globe, our interaction with it was also altered. Paintings in the west are most commonly wall hung. The intimate experience of handling the paintings and bringing them close to the eye is therefore lost – this is a concept I would be keen to research.

I could also use these miniatures to investigate the nature of the original paintings that these miniatures were painted from.  The answer to the question is not known to the Oriental Museum and it is likely to have been a range of paintings. After consulting with Rachel I understand that they too would have likely been miniature paintings as this was the predominate art form of the time. Whether any of these survive is a tantalising question.

I will begin by viewing the book as this will help me to decide which of the above avenues of research I am most interested in. Hopefully, with the help of an expert in Indian miniature paintings or of India at this time I will gleam which avenue will provide me with the most expansive research opportunities.