#edit: okay not only did the readmore work but there are TWO readmores and i have no damn clue why

[riddlerosehearts]

list of acd canon sherlock holmes things i absolutely love

(and am going to mostly put under a readmore because i made most of this list while rereading the entire canon so it is very long! listen i just think sherlock holmes is the best character ever and i need to share my love for him--)

immediately upon being introduced to watson he grabs him by the sleeve, starts excitedly showing off his bloodstain testing experiment, and claps his hands “looking as delighted as a child with a new toy”. once he finishes, his eyes glitter and he puts his hand on his heart and bows “as if to some applauding crowd conjured up by his imagination”.

watson: “i object to rows because my nerves are shaken”

holmes: “do you include violin playing in your category of rows?” he asked, anxiously

he’s noted to be extraordinarily knowledgeable and zealous in his studies, and yet on the same page it’s stated that he doesn’t know the earth travels around the sun and once watson tells him about it he immediately decides to forget about it because it’s not relevant to his work. this is where the famous “brain attic” monologue comes in.

watson writes this list about him and then throws it into the fire in despair:

has a habit of laughing in a way that’s described as bursting into an “explosion” or “roar” of laughter

frequently does this at crime scenes:

enlists a gang of street orphans to help him on his cases, pays them for their work, and generally treats them as equals but also playfully talks to them like a general to his soldiers

plays the violin for watson to help him get to sleep

is incredibly knowledgable on anything from different types of tobacco, to the ways one's trade can influence the form of their hands, to medieval pottery and stradivarus violins. and yet, i reiterate, does not know the earth revolves around the sun.

has a tendency of waxing poetic about the meaningless of existence, particularly when he’s bored from not having any cases to work on

once said about a dog “i would rather have toby’s help than that of the whole detective force of london”

used the word “doggy” when speaking to toby

once told watson “i don’t wish to be theatrical” despite all evidence to the contrary

disguises himself as an old man just to play a prank on watson

watson: “i think i had better go”

holmes: “not at all, doctor. stay where you are. i am lost without my boswell.”

is known to wiggle in his chair when he gets excited about a case

discovers that a man has tricked his own stepdaughter into a fake marriage so he can keep her at home and control her life and inheritance. acknowledges that said man hasn’t done anything illegal but still tells him “there never was a man who deserved punishment more” and that he ought to get whipped for what he did, and then goes to actually get his hunting crop, causing the man to run out the door at top speed

let a criminal go free because it turned out the man he murdered was trying to force said criminal’s daughter into an unwanted marriage

was suddenly made to participate in the wedding of someone he was tracking for a case, came home and laughed about it for several minutes, exclaimed “well, really!”, laughed for several more minutes, and only then did he actually tell watson what happened

responds to the king of bohemia insulting irene adler and saying she’s not on his level by saying coldly: “from what i have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level to your majesty”, which is basically him saying “actually she’s way better than you, so fuck off”

refused to shake said king’s hand

built a pillow fort in a client’s house so he could think better

let a poor jewel thief go because he cried, because it was christmas and therefore it was the season of forgiveness, and because the case was really easy anyway so it’s not his fault if the police are too stupid to solve it themselves

always reassures clients that they can trust him and watson and speak freely around them

is willing to waive his fee for clients who can’t afford to pay him, because according to him his profession is its own reward

this entire scene from speckled band when he gets confronted by his client’s abusive stepfather:

this nice little example of the gentleness he often displays with his clients:

the adventure of the copper beeches. just, all of it. a woman he doesn’t know comes to holmes for advice about a potential job she’s interviewed for and they both agree it sounds incredibly sketchy, she says she’s gonna take it anyway because she needs the money, and he’s like “well i wouldn’t want any sister of mine doing something like this but FINE i guess, just please write to us and let us know if you’re okay and if anything bad happens we’ll drop everything and come help you immediately”, and then the job does in fact turn out to be super sketchy and they drop everything and get on a train as soon as she writes to them

sometimes spends several hours out on walks through the park or the town with watson just relaxing and talking with him for the sake of it, despite watson frequently noting that holmes doesn’t have much appreciation for nature

“we have had the good fortune to bring peace to many troubled souls. i trust that we may do the same for you,” he says “in his easy, genial way” to a potential client who’s clearly very upset and sleep-deprived

is completely wrong about a particular case and asks watson to remind him of that case next time he gets overconfident

is noted by watson to be very neat and methodical in his methods and way of dress, while simultaneously being one of the messiest people ever who keeps his tobacco inside a persian slipper and his unopened letters held up by a knife in the center of his mantelpiece, keeps tons of criminal relics which apparently somehow end up in the butter dish sometimes, and keeps countless stacks of papers and documents all over the place

tells watson anecdotes about his past just to avoid cleaning up said documents

deliberately knocks over a table, shattering a glass fruit bowl which then sends oranges rolling all over the room, and then blames it on watson and runs away

says snarky things like “when gregson or lestrade are out of their depth–which, by the way, is their normal state” and “you’ve done very well, watson! it’s too bad you’ve missed everything of importance”

laughs when watson suggests he’s being modest about his abilities

picked up a rose and got all sappy and poetic about it

more specifically, picked up a rose and said that religion can be a science which involves a lot of careful deduction, and that flowers are a source of hope and proof of the goodness of god due to the fact that they aren’t a necessary part of life but are still so beautiful anyway

recovered an incredibly valuable government treaty for a client and had it served to him on a platter at breakfast because, in his own words, he “never can resist a touch of the dramatic”

faked his death and then revealed to watson that he was still alive in a manner that even he admitted was unnecessarily dramatic

had a full-scale wax model of himself created and used it to fool his enemies

made a diagram out of breadcrumbs to explain something to watson

broke into a blackmailer’s house for a case because he believed it to be morally justifiable, and admitted that he always thought he might make a good criminal

held watson’s hand while they were burgling said house together

twice

allowed said blackmailer to be murdered in front of him by one of his victims and then refused to take the case when asked because he just hated the guy that much

“flushed up with pleasure” when watson complimented him

asked watson to sell his medical practice and move back into 221b with him after the death of his wife. and then secretly gave a relative of his a ton of money to buy watson’s medical practice at the highest price watson would ask for, just so they could live together again

was nearly brought to tears by lestrade saying he was proud of him

let a dog lead him around on a case, multiple times in different stories

was very gentle with a client who he knew to be the victim of an abusive marriage and allowed the man who killed her husband to go free out of sympathy for their situation

noticed watson looking sad and touching his war wound and tried to cheer him up by echoing his thoughts and providing a deduction of how he knew what he was thinking

mentioned watson’s sparkling eyes in said deduction

talked about nothing but violins and his favorite violinist for an hour while he and watson had lunch together

likes going to classical music concerts and getting lost in the music

does scrapbooking

chuckles and rubs his hands together when he’s happy

this:

takes getting called "the devil himself" as a compliment

let a killer go because he had only killed in retaliation for the unjust murder of his lover, and holmes felt that he might’ve done the same if someone were to kill the woman he loved

on a completely unrelated note tells a guy who shoots watson “if you had killed watson you would not have got out of this room alive”

also reacted like this when watson got shot:

went undercover to supposedly give a guy secret government intelligence documents, and then gave him a book about bees instead

frequently disguised himself either for cases or just to fool watson and was noted to be a great actor

once disguised himself as an old woman with a parasol

tried the best he could to talk a young woman out of marrying a man who had a history of “collecting” women for sport and destroying their lives, and admitted to watson that he thought of her as he would think of his own daughter

was prone to “imp-like moods”

sent watson a message to come over at once ("if convenient--if inconvenient come all the same") just so he could infodump to him about dogs

wasn’t surprised that a dog died of grief shortly after its owner’s death, because of “the beautiful, faithful nature of dogs”

listened with great sympathy to a depressed woman who wanted to tell him her tragic story, picked up on hints that she was planning to commit suicide, talked her out of it by convincing her that her life does have value and then called her brave for choosing to live

got lost in thought looking out the window at the publicly funded elementary schools and randomly went on about how he believes they and the children who attend them are beacons of a brighter future

made hot cocoa for watson

shook hands with a baby

retired to the countryside to live on a farm and become a beekeeper.

[cycian]

Starfield request: Andreja preparing to cook a meal for everyone in the lodge, whatever that entails in your imagination. Perhaps Sarah is also around to help, which again, is up to you how that plays out.

I lost control. 4.9k words under the readmore, Andreja/Sarah pairing. Sorry not sorry. Will be posted to ao3 after some editing within the week. Oopsie doopsie, love you Ronqueesha but you knew precisely what this ask would do to me lol.

Blurring lines

It had been two weeks. Two weeks of eating nothing but takeout, deliveries. Countless Chunks menus had been ordered and promptly devoured by the ravenous Constellation members.

Sarah could hardly believe it as she added the expenses onto the budget. Until now, she hadn't realised that Barrett's favorite past time had been a blessing upon their budget, stomachs and waistlines.

Across from her, Andreja idly sharpened her blade, her eyes drifting around the warm light of day that filtered through the small greenhouse.

"I can't believe I'm going to have to say it, but Barrett's cooking is a cornerstone of our Lodge section of the budget." Sarah said, mostly to herself, as she hadn't expected Andreja to be paying attention to her mumblings and ravings.

The blade stopped on its block for an instant, before resuming its dance.

Sarah thought no more of it.

Until midnight struck.

She had moved from the pleasant warmth of the greenhouse for the quiet chaos of her room/office. She knew that if Noel were to catch her working so late, she'd get chastised. She was fine, she thought. Even if Sarah attempted to sleep, the nightmares would wake her up--might as well be productive.

She went down to the kitchen, located in the basement (Walter, why?), with the intent of indulging in more caffeine, only to be interrupted by curses hushed in the dead of night, in a tongue that she did not recognize. The voice, however, was very familiar to Sarah. She tried to silence her steps to figure out what was bothering Andreja to the point of using expletives, only to find the Va’ruun woman covered from head to toe in flour.

Sarah Morgan was not exactly known for being ‘stealthy’ or discreet or even remotely ‘subtle’. She was, at best, a terrormorph in a china shop. Despite her best efforts, she could not manage to repress the undignified snort that escaped her.

Andreja’s eyes snapped to her, narrowed into dark slits, before softening as the leader of Constellation stepped towards the light, clad in her very elegant pajamas. An old UC vanguard shirt, fraying at the edges (an umpteenth attempt from John to get her to enlist again) and her blue checkered pajama pants that bore countless coffee stains. Somehow, she felt underdressed, compared to Andreja and her endless supply of Va’ruun outfits, despite the former smuggler being covered in flour.

Sarah wondered how it was possible to always look so…stunning. Even looking like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar, covered in flour in the late hours of the night, Andreja looked stunning as she attempted to pat the flour out of her clothes.

“Do not worry about the mess, Miss Morgan. I will clean this up. My apologies. I hope I did not wake you up.” Andreja’s words broke Sarah out of her daydream, forcing her to tear her eyes away from the defined biceps.

“Don’t worry about it, Andreja, I haven’t gone to bed yet.” She wiggled her favorite mug (it had one particularly cute cat drawn on it), moving past the flour-covered woman to pour herself more coffee. Sarah raised her eyebrow. The pot was empty. She usually was the one to siphon it throughout the night but—

“You don’t usually stay up this late. I hope everything is okay.” Sarah asked as she poured some water into the coffee maker, before adding some grounds. Some more patting sounds came from behind her, and as the machine came to life, Sarah turned around, only to find Andreja staring at the kitchen with a menacing glare.

“I am fine, Miss Morgan.” Poor thing. Even her back was covered in flour. Sarah carefully approached her, slowly letting her hand rest on Andreja’s shoulder and pushing the younger woman to look at her.

Andreja looked down, her eyes finally meeting Sarah’s. The Chair of Constellation was not used to looking up at someone—she usually towered over most people she met. But Andreja was tall. And not just lanky tall, either. She reminded Sarah of the stories she’d read about in books, about Amazonians of incredibly heights, strength and determination. Every inch of her was like a blade. Her cheekbones were sharp enough to cut, her eyes piercing like a knife’s tip, her body ever-coiled like a snake awaiting the occasion to strike. Even now, she felt those muscles tense under her touch.

“Miss Morgan?” Andreja tilted her head to the side quizzically, flour streaking her pitch-black hair. Sarah cursed herself internally.

“Sorry, lack of sleep can make me a little…disconnected.” Her hand moved off of Andreja’s shoulder, before hovering next to her hair. “May I help you with the flour situation? I wouldn’t want you to lose one of your garbs to pesky flour.”

Andreja nodded, a small smile lighting up her face. Sarah gently brushed the flour away from the Va’runn’s hair. How was it so soft? It was like touching silk, or a gentle stream.

“Ashta oil, mostly. Sam was kind enough to provide me with some.” Andreja explained while Sarah Morgan was busy wondering if the filter between her brain and her mouth had fully malfunctioned. Thankfully, Andreja did not seem to mind or care too much as she let Sarah pat her down.

“Well, at least, you can rest assured that white hair will suit you.” Sarah said, holding a strand of flour-covered hair.

Andreja’s lips tightened in a polite smile, before taking a step back. Sarah did not mind in the slightest. Nor was she shocked. Andreja had been here for well over a year, yet it was always two steps forward and one step back with her. She reminded Sarah of the black cat on her cup. Hard to predict, always on her guard, never knowing if she was about to cozy up to you or about to bolt.

“I suppose you must be wondering why I was in such a…situation.” Andreja broke the silence as Sarah stopped the coffee maker, pouring herself a cup, before turning around, coffee pot in hand. Andreja nodded, before retrieving one of the generic mugs that they kept in storage for the few visitors that sometimes came by the Lodge.

“I stopped asking our dear colleagues what they were up to, when caught in strange situations, about seven years ago. Better this way.” Sarah still remembered the five-hour tale Barrett weaved when she asked him why he hung his socks in the greenhouse.

Andreja nodded, letting Sarah pour her a cup of coffee, before leaning her hip against the counter.

“An unusual group of people, getting up to unusual activities. Hardly surprising. In my case, I was attempting something… mundane.”

“I’m guessing you were cooking.”

“Trying to.” Andreja gestured to her black garb, still bearing some faint traces of flour. Sarah gently brushed away some that lingered on Andreja’s thigh. “I know that Barrett’s absence is a strain on our budget—and morale. I wondered if perhaps I could attempt to replicate one of his recipes. He was kind enough to provide me with access to his cooking slates, but they’ve proven…challenging.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. Barrett’s recipes were his only secret. Even Noel had been forbidden from ever accessing this treasure. Sarah never bothered asking—cooking was not really something that interested her much.

“You seem surprised. I suppose that a smuggler covered in flour is surprising.” Andreja said, her voice uncharacteristically meek. Sarah pursed her lips.

“Former smuggler. And I am happy whenever a Constellation member decides to learn a new skillset. No teasing from me, Andreja, I promise. What were you trying to cook? Surely Barrett’s recipe can’t be that complicated.”

Oh, how wrong she had been.

Cursed be Barrett, and the amped-up hare that he had in place of a functioning brain.

The recipe’s title was simple enough. Homemade pasta with tomato sauce. However, the more she read on the data slate, the stronger the chance of a headache became. Barrett spent the two first pages of the slate describing the history of Italy and southern European Old Earth delights. He somehow managed to get lost within his historical ramblings, before even providing a list of the ingredients. With every line, the urge to hunt Barrett down and force him to be coherent became stronger. The instructions were hidden in between paragraphs of Barrett waxing poetry about the consistency of the dough (soft as a summer’s day and firm as a lover’s embrace was NOT helpful) and doodles of Constellation members.

Sarah set down the data slate, before pinching the bridge of her nose.

“He is certainly passionate about cooking.” Andreja offered, while Sarah was contemplating telling Andreja to just order from yet another restaurant. But she couldn’t. Because when she turned around, she was met with knee-buckling soft brown eyes staring down at her.

“We are explorers. We spend our lives deciphering the Universe’s secret. Surely, we can wing a pasta recipe and get away with it.”

Andreja always tried to keep an eye on the time. It was an old habit that refused to die. Keeping track of time helped her know when a patrol might be coming by, or if she’d stayed in the same area for too long. However, in the dimly lit basement, with Sarah’s chuckles and occasional grumbles of discontentment, time had lost all meaning. They’d started over at least a dozen times. She was certain that the budget had yet suffered another blow, as they cracked open egg after egg, bags of flour hastily thrown in the garbage disposal after each failed attempt.

When Sarah had found her, she had been ready to give up. Yet, the coffee and company kept her going. Try after try, Andreja found that she cared little if the food turned out edible or not.

Because right next to her, perched on a camping chair, the Chair of Constellation, clad in her pajamas, was reading her a magazine.

It was hardly interesting. Just the New Atlantis daily. But what was interesting to Andreja, was to see Sarah come to life. Her eyes lit up as she told her that she had to visit the UC Museum (she’d rather die) or that they could go together (she’d love that). Sarah Morgan came alive when passion was involved. She sat up straighter, her hands dancing in the dim light as she described the first plant that sent her to the hospital and prompted her to take an interest in botany. Her voice, usually restrained to one precise register, one of calm and authority, would soar between highs (she was rather passionate about Old Earth pets) and rumblings lows (she did not seem to want to discuss her past with the UC).

The knowledge and worship of the Great Serpent had always brought her peace. It was an eternal, universal law. In a galaxy full of ever-changing tangents, it was her rock. Yet, as Sarah’s eyes started to droop, her temples resting on her closed fist, Andreja felt a brush of serenity pass her by.

It was how Noel found them. Passed out on camping chairs, in the early hours of the morning, boiling the galaxy’s worst pasta. Years of training had honed Andreja’s senses, yet, she did not even stir as the scientist retreated up the stairs, leaving a note on the door to not enter the basement until noon.

Thankfully, she did not sleep in that late.

Sounds of distress roused her from her sleep, only to find that the source was none other than Miss Morgan, her brow covered in a gleam of sweat. Andreja was no stranger to those demons that only came to those that had felt the fires of life’s kiss and had been left charred. She brought her hand close to Miss Morgan’s forehead, afraid to touch those golden and silver strands of hair that stuck to her forehead, before settling for her shoulder.

Miss Morgan had touched her shoulders before, it was alright, yes? It had comforted Andreja, had made her feel warm. Surely, it would help.

She gently squeezed her shoulder.

“Miss Morgan, wake up.” She spoke softly, afraid of scaring the blonde woman who writhed under Andreja’s robe’s overlayer. Miss Morgan’s hand grabbed hers, with such despair, even unconscious, that shattered Andreja’s heart. Andreja let her free hand rest atop hers, clutching it tight. “It’s me, Andreja.”

“Andreja.” Sarah repeated, her voice hoarse. She finally opened her eyes, green meeting dark brown. Her eyes widened, looking everywhere frantically.

“Calm down, you are safe, we are in the Lodge’s basement. You are safe.” She repeated. Sarah let her head fall back down against the chair, her free hand combing through her hair. Her chest heaved with rapid breaths, that she fought against. Andreja was familiar with this feeling. She leaned forward, slowly enough to give Miss Morgan plenty of opportunity to back away. She brought their conjoined hands to her own chest, taking deep, calming breaths. She let her forehead rest against Miss Morgan’s.

Andreja kept her eyes firmly set on the blonde woman. Miss Morgan’s hands entangled themselves from Andreja’s, shaking as she set them on her lap, her eyes softly opening. Although Andreja had spent more time than she would be willing to admit looking at the Chair, she still could not place the color of her eyes. Sometimes, they would be piercing blue, reminiscent of lakes on deep freeze planets, or forest green, so akin to fresh leaves as spring thawed nature.

In that dimly lit basement, they were of a blue so deep that Andreja was afraid that she might drown in them, her breath hitching as they locked eyes. For an instant, Andreja felt eternity as their eyes bore and blended in one another, before Miss Morgan pulled away.

“I…I am so sorry, Andreja. It shall not happen again, don’t worry,” The Chair spoke, as she pushed the chair back, getting out of the chair as fast as her legs would allow her. Andreja kept a hand out to stabilize her as Miss Morgan swayed on her feet, her hair sticking out in pikes and cowlicks that defied gravity. “I thank you for your help and I’ll—I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Before Andreja even had the chance to speak, the Chair bolted out of the basement as if pursued by a dozen terrormorphs, leaving a trail of flour on the flour, her favorite mug on the counter and an incredibly perplexed Andreja behind.

Sarah Morgan was mortified.

For a couple of reasons. Firstly, she’d been rash to a woman who had been kind and understanding to her. Secondly, in her haste to leave the premises, she had failed to notice that Andreja unfurled the cloth that she usually wore wrapped around her hips and over her shoulder, and had wrapped her in it. Which meant that Sam and Walter somersaulted to conclusions, with such vivacity and fervor that before Sarah could even make her way up the stairs, Vladimir had heard of it. Not only had he heard of it, but he had also already messaged her.

Threatening her to not even think of hurting Andreja’s feelings. And to do right by her.

Aja often told her that Constellation’s lines between work and family had blended the instant Banks had founded their organization. Sarah did not think much of it. She thought that she was good enough at separating her work/life balance that blurred lines would never be much of an issue for her.

Third reason for Sarah Morgan’s mortification: she could not, for the life of her, summon the willpower to remove Andreja’s cloth. It smelled just like her. A subtle drifting smell of something sharp like iron and a wafting, warm amber fragrance with hints of patchouli.

Sarah let herself fall upon her bed, after pushing the data slates of the unoccupied side. Maybe her work/life balance was not perfect.

Perhaps lines were starting to blur.

But despite the furious flush on her lips from her colleagues’ teasing, she could not find it in herself to stop a smile from creeping across her lips as she lifted Andreja’s cloth to her face.

Andreja watched, not without satisfaction, as her crepe browned in the pan. She had started to decipher Barrett’s recipe reliably enough to attempt the simplest recipes on his slates. The first one had not come out as expected—according to Vladimir, who had called her and decided to linger on the comms for a dozen minutes, it was a normal occurrence. He sounded happier than usual as he regaled her with tales of the deepest confines of space while she whisked the batter. But soon as the door to the basement opened, he excused himself, without finishing his story.

A shame. It had Aceles. Andreja loved Aceles.

“I am still not interested in a drink, Sam. But thank you all the same.” Andreja spoke over her shoulder, before flipping the crepe over once again. No response. Andreja turned her head, only to be greeted by Sarah Morgan, who held her neatly folded garb in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Not wine to be drunk from a straw. Wine with a cork, a corkscrew even poking out from the inside pocket of Miss Morgan’s jacket.

“Should I take that as a no to wine?” The Chair asked and though a smile was upon her lips, Andreja could see the tightness in her eyes. She shook her head and beckoned Miss Morgan closer.

“Expensive wine? What a rare treat, Miss Morgan. Have you given up on our budget altogether, then?” Andreja asked as she slid the crepe onto a plate, before pouring more batter into the pan. She heard a bottle being set down and a table being dragged. She heard her rummage through cupboards, before she finally turned around.

Miss Morgan had set up a table for two. A flower, bright purple, had found herself planted in a vase in the middle of the table, accompanied by the bottle of wine. Andreja’s garb had been set aside next to her mug, which had been refilled with warm coffee. Andreja watched as the Chair of Constellation, the fearless explorer that was Sarah Morgan, fretted over the napkins that she was attempting to fold in the shape of a flower. The result was less than picture perfect—Andreja loved it. She could not help but beam as Sarah proudly held the folded napkin in her hand.

Sarah Morgan loved the sound of wildlife chirping as daylight brought them out of their slumber. She loved the hum of a grav drive right before a jump. She found that the sound of Andreja laughing instantly beat all of her previous favorites. It made it all worth it. The long talk she had about Sam Coe on how to apologize to pretty women (he was an expert), the hour spent picking wine with Walter (he was an expert) and picking up an outfit (Noel and Matteo were useless but supportive). It was worth it because Andreja laughed as she folded her napkins to the best of her abilities. She’d watched a tutorial on how to make one in the shape of an Aceles, but was quickly humbled.

“I owe you an apology,” Sarah said as she set down the napkins, smoothing over her blue shirt. “It was inconsiderate of me, I just…”

Andreja held up a hand. “You owe me nothing. There is nothing that you must justify to me, unless you wish to.”

Sarah let out a breath that she had been holding for the last two decades, running a hand through the strands where silver and gold mingled freely. She let her shoulders sag. Andreja had seen her as she was. Tired. Irrational, sometimes. Prone to fleeing the instant any emotion went past what Sarah was comfortable with. Endlessly running towards the horizon, never daring to look back in fear of what she would find.

And still, she stayed.

Sarah Morgan took a step forward, past Andreja as she grabbed the pan’s handle. She gave it a quick shake, before beckoning Andreja closer.

“My parents were diplomats,” She began, feeling her voice weaken as it fought against the things it had kept quiet for so long. “My father was quite fond of crepes, he even tried to show me how to make them. I was never quite good but—”

She stepped back and directed Andreja’s hand to hold the handle just as she had, before wrapping her arms around the Va’ruun, her hands on Andreja’s. She felt the younger woman tense underneath her touch, before softening and gently leaning against her.

“Give it a tug, get the crepe unstuck. There you go, now, we’re going to do a sautee motion, push the pan forward, up, then back towards you quickly. Follow my movement.” In one swift motion, the crepe flew towards the ceiling, before landing back into the pan, perfectly flipped.

Andreja had watched with a hint of mirth as the crepe flew, a slow giggle slipping past her lips. But all Sarah could look at was her, at the smile held back with a hint of teeth, the way her eyes squinted, the hint of a crow’s nest forming at the corners of her eyes. The small smile line starting to make itself apparent.

“Thank you… Sarah.”

Just hearing her name from Andreja’s lips sent goosebumps all the way down to her arms—she hoped that Andreja hadn’t noticed as Sarah pulled away, nodding to the pan.

“Come on, give it a try.”

“I am afraid I might make a mess of it.”

“Look at my ‘flower’, it’s not exactly perfect, is it? Nothing has to be perfect. It just has to be.” Sarah encouraged her. Andreja nodded, before grabbing the handle, giving it a few tentative sweeps, before attempting to flip the crepe.

Sarah watched as the crepe soared in her direction, almost hitting her across the face. Thankfully, her reflexes were sharp. She caught it, twirling it in her hands, throwing it from hand to hand as it was still very much hot from the pan. Though Andreja’s skin was too dark for a blush to be visible, it was easy to tell that the Va’ruun was flustered, as her wide eyes seemingly couldn’t even blink anymore.

Sarah threw her a cheeky wink, before tearing the crepe and throwing it in the air, attempting to catch it with her mouth. She slid on her knees, ignoring the pain in her lower back (God, she wasn’t in her thirties anymore, and her body never failed to remind her), as the crepe fell in her mouth.

Andreja cackled, clapping her hands as Sarah rose to her knees, munching through her half with as much dignity as she could muster. She offered her audience a small bow.

“I did not know that you were so… silly.” Andreja said, a wide smile on her lips.

Darling, even I forgot that part of me.

But it was not the time to explain that with decades of self-set expectations to meet, with the scars that littered her body and mind, she’d let a rift grow between herself and the rest of the universe—friend or foe alike. Because Andreja had told her that she had no need to explain herself, unless she willed it. And tonight, just tonight, she wanted to be Sarah and Andreja, sharing crepes and wine. But deep down, she knew that when the abyss, the same that stared back every time she closed her eyes, would call her again, she knew what’d she do. She wouldn’t shy away from kind hands that would lead her to their own heartbeat to steady hers.

That night, she just said:

“Want to try?”

And she watched with glee as Andreja, the best shot she’d ever met, the sturdiest, steadiest and strongest person she’d ever met, throw a crepe up in the air and swallow it like an Old Earth seagull.

Though none of them were known for being the chattiest members of Constellation, every breath was spent on a tale, and when words ebbed, wine flowed. Andreja told her of her homeland, of the cities that lingered on the edge of the desert where she’d grown, of the pet she’d raised and slaughtered and the dagger she’d fashioned out of its skull. Of the tall beasts that would sometimes cross into their territory but that had fascinated her as a child. On an unfolded napkin, she’d drawn the outline of the beast, eyes closed in concentration, the tip of her pen dancing on cloth as she regaled Sarah with the uses for their venoms and chitin. It had reminded Sarah of scorpions, an old earth creature and they’d made plans to watch a documentary on the creatures of the desert from Sarah’s personal collection.

Sarah told her of her father’s smile, omitting his scorn. She told Andreja of his smooth hands as he pushed her on the swing, of the flaming passion for peace that got him out of bed. She spoke of her mother’s kindness and tendency to berate young Sarah for tracking mud everywhere she went.

The words they shared, those wounds that they willingly re-opened with kind hands, guided them through the night and the stack of crepes that they packed and put away for the others to enjoy in the morning.

They laughed, and for an instant, Andreja felt the caress of a youth that had been taken away from her before she could even think about enjoying it. And for an instant, Sarah Morgan’s eyes left the horizon, to instead appreciate what had been right in front of her all along.

Andreja offered to stay behind and clean up—she was starting to enjoy the freedom of a night owl. Sarah’s hand lingered on her forearm.

“If you have trouble sleeping… Come find me, Sarah.” Andreja’s tone did not offer Sarah the luxury of argumentation as her hand rested upon Sarah’s. She nodded, letting herself drift slowly into Andreja’s arms.

Andreja’s arms wrapped themselves around her, pulling her close. Words were wildly unnecessary by that point. No word could do justice to the quiet adoration pooling in Andreja’s eyes and the ever-burning fire rekindled in Sarah’s own. Sarah lifted herself on her tiptoes, letting Andreja handle the brunt of her weight as she wrapped her arms around Andreja’s neck, bringing her close, to her neck.

Andreja nuzzled in, a small peck on Sarah’s neck leaving a ripple of goosebumps to dance along her skin, echoed by Andreja’s own skin. Sarah’s hand tilted Andreja’s chin, letting herself get lost.

A small kiss, chaste, but oh, so electric. An instant that lasted an eternity and tasted of amber and wine. A lingering look, one that they were not willing to break, as Sarah retreated up the stairs, entirely forgetting her red leather jacket on her chair.

She let the door close behind her as she slid against it, her eyes fluttering close. One sweet kiss, the promise of so much more to come. She let herself bask in the glow as she rose to her knees. As she climbed up the stairs, she was interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

All around the Lodge’s main room, members were pretending to busy themselves. Cora was fast asleep on the sofa as Sam pretended to read a manual on astrophysics, while Matteo, next to him, was polishing his nails. Walter was sipping on a cognac, a book on his lap and a smile on his lips. Noel, with the subtlety of an Aceles whose testicles had been bitten in a china shop, leant against the doorframe and almost slipped, before asking.

Sarah couldn’t keep it at bay. Not after today. Not while she could still smell Andreja’s perfume on her skin and the taste of her lips on hers. Her face broke into a grin.

“It went amazingly. Thank you for your help, everyone.”

To her utmost discomfort, the Constellation members erupted into whoops, Noel all but grabbing her by her shoulders and shaking her vigorously, as if she were an athlete bringing home an impressive trophy.

Sarah raised her voices, hushing them down with her hands.

“Calm down, please! This is not a fraternity house!” She chided.

“But you got some!” Sam counter-attacked, his hands covering Cora’s ears, though the child could sleep through anything.

“What, no I did not, we just kissed.”

“Wait, so you guys locked me in my room all day just so they could kiss?” A voice rang from upstairs.

“Barrett!? You’re back?” Sarah looked, bewildered as the source of fifty percent of their ransom budget peaked his head over the balcony.

“Honestly, just for your face right now, worth it.”

The lines were blurring, Sarah thought, as she received claps on her backs and a beer was thrusted in her hands. But perhaps she needed friends more than she needed colleagues.

[felikatze]

okay!! safe ending done!! wowzers, what an ending! time to review!

First of, some complaints. Since i was skipping basically everything, the new scenes stuck out all the more, and they didn't really... feel earned. For example, Door 8. Going 4-8 resulted in a scene of Junpei poking fun at Lotus, so she tells him to fuck off, but going 5-8, the two get talking. Lotus mentions her former job, and she starts talking about "what if the human brain doesnt actually contain memories" and wireless data transfer which ties into all the telepathy stuff all over the game.

So why does she open up more to Junpei... on a route where they spent less time together?

edit. um. added a readmore. i did not realize for how long i was talking.

The same thing applies to the changed scene with Santa in Door 6. Taking this route means missing every opportunity to hang out with Santa beforehand (Door 4 & 3), yet this is the route where he just doesn't talk about metaphor, but mentions his sister and her death outright. Again, why is he more emotionally honest on a route where he knows Junpei less?

In a VN like this, ideally, choices inform what routes happen, yeah? Instead of things just "happening differently." Same with Junpei figuring out Ace's face-blindness because Akane decided to collapse for no reason.

Rlly, Akane's random fevers are the most plot devicey thing in this game, and I don't like it.

The only pre-end changed scene that made sense is Clover talking about Snake's disability in the lab, because Junpei was one of the last people to spend time with Snake. She decides against it if Junpei didn't spend time with Snake beforehand, probably realizing Junpei wouldnt know anything in that case.

And the random hint Clover has in her hand when her body is found is, hm. Like, when I went through Door 1, there just... wasn't anything like this, so where the hell did it come from? Maybe this gets explained in the true end, whatever.

I get the logic that the first door has to be 5 bcuz Junpei needs to know where the safe is, but it makes less sense with the Lotus and Santa scenes.

Okay. Moving on to: plot revelations.

So! I was correct! Ace killed everybody in the Knife and Submarine endings! And he targeted Lotus to nab her bracelet, which was all he needed for the 9 door, and everybody else was just collateral. Makes sense.

The motivation here is the new part. As soon as Santa said he's the CEO of Cradle Pharmaceutics - well yeah, that tracks. Explains how Ace knew what the sedative is. He was the one producing it. Explains his connection to the first Nonary game, as per my theory that every person is involved with the first one somehow.

I assumed he figured out Lotus was investigating him, but nah, lol, just wanted the bracelet. Fucker <3

Other plot revelations: though I do not like the method of delivery as per the above, my suspicion was confirmed!! Santa's sister is the kid who died in the first Nonary Game! Like, okay, he says car accident or whatever, but it was nine years ago, I can read. He's probably in the same situation as Lotus, where what really happened got covered up, and this is just the story he's been fed. Poor guy. Really working for the Santa nickname here. Aww man.

Right, next on the discussion block - Snake. I am so deeply satisfied that i was 100% dead on the money. He was alive, and trapped in the coffin.

I mean, you saw me speculating this before, I shall not be Ashe Bradley'd again, but when I replayed Room 5, i was all the more certain. Snake mentions his incredible hearing, meaning he'd never get jumped, and he was confident he could take Junpei in a fight, which he GOES TO PROVE in the ending. Not against Junpei, but, wow. When Clover mentions his prosthetic arm, oh yeah, it's all coming together, and this is how Junpei figures it out, too.

Also shows how Snake and Clover are connected to the game - Snake's been in it, and whatever happened injured him, resulting in his blindness and prosthetic. Also a nifty explanation for why he didn't recognize anybody else he might've met back then.

Speaking of, here is the one point i was wrong. Snake did not kill the Ninth Man, Ace did. It makes sense motive wise, as Ace wanted to eliminate anyone who knew his connection to the first Nonary Game. Still wondering how Ace knew about the verification before Zero or Snake explained it....? Whatever.

Thinking back, his face blindness is foreshadowed!! It's such a blink and you miss it moment. In the hospital room, when searching for Snake, when Junpei tells Ace that Clover and Snake look nothing alike... Ace reacts surprised! He had no idea they look different!

That's such smart foreshadowing, dear god.

Okay, next up - Akane. I already mentioned I don't like her plot device fever, and this end really takes it to the next level.

I could tell they copied over text from the submarine ending, where Akane tells Junpei she won't make it, but loved their time together, because she was, you know, bleeding out in his arms, and the same dialogue when she's got a fever feels way cheaper, you know? People can die of fevers, of course, but not like... this fast. Geez.

The thing that salvages this scene is the mystique of it, Akane vanishing, Zero saying he's right here... Well, that does have one implication, of course - that Akane is Zero.

(thinks about plot spoilers i've seen) (thinks about "is akane evil" discourse i've seen)

(thinks back to my "akane was in the first game" theory)

No fucking way, right? (<- in denial.)

Speaking of Zero. So, Zero reveals the mission statement that he wants to punish all those responsible for the first Nonary Game. Okay. So that's why Ace is here. But then why are other victims of the game here? Why is Snake here? Why is Lotus here? Why punish the family members of those involved?

Unless, of course... "The Nonary Game was always meant to save everyone." Maybe that's what Zero wants. Zero wants Junpei to succeed. For some reason. Hence Zero saying "I lost" as Junpei goes down with the ship. Whatever Zero's goal is, it hinges on Junpei.

Also, back to the Akane thing - on the assumption that Akane is Zero/was in the first game, that would finally give Junpei a Nonary Game connection, cuz he and Akane are the only ones without a confirmed one so far. He's here bcuz of Akane.

And, remember how I pointed out Akane's fixation on her childhood as odd? Well... if somebody were, say, seeking revenge against the company that traumatized them for the past 9 years, then fixating on the idyllic childhood before all that makes sense, no?

OKAYYY TIME TO ACTUALLY DISCUSS THE PLOT OUTSIDE OF WHAT I COMPLAINED ABOUT.

The Ace is Evil reveal was actually so fucking cool. PEAK manipulative Junpei moment, which is, hands down, my favorite character trait of his. If he wants something, he is going to get it, by any means possible. He's a lying and schemeing son of a bitch, and it's fucking fantastic. It was so satisfying how Junpei pulled together all the details I also noticed, all the little bits and bobs from the three extra scenes, to make the perfect trap for Ace.

Just saying "I'm actually Santa" to test Ace's face-blindness, saying he took the bracelet from Ace, confirming Ace has it, and then elaborating on why Snake isn't dead. Brilliant. Brilliant moment.

Ofc then Ace pulls the revolver, cuz fucking dumbasses left it there for anyone to nab. Also great setup, since i did door 6 first, i knew the revolver was there, and the guys just leaving it there in knife end was simply too good to be true.

Chekov's gun, in the most literal sense. If there's a gun, somebody is going to fire it.

Righto. The showdown in the incinerator. Man.

First of all, I was delighted to see Snake back, have my theory validated that he's in the coffin, though this does open the mystery of who out him there. Absolutely DELICIOUS tragedy that this is on the route where Clover is dead, and neither Junpei nor Seven have the heart to tell him.

Snake just going apeshit on Ace was a great moment, really impressive, really heartwrenching. If I gotta die, I'm taking you bitch down with me <3 iconic. Incredible. Truly Snake was Not Fucking Kidding when he said he could take Junpei in a fight. That scene of Seven dragging Junpei out of the incinerator... man.

Also rlly smart to bring up the prosthetic arm thing to let Snake go through the door. Pulls double duty as the last evidence that Snake is alive, AND for this moment. He just. screwed his hand off real quick to take the bracelet off. Truly more stories need disabled characters for spectacular moments like this.

I already talked abt my feelings w the Akane scene at the end here (the same scene in sub ending was better, but this one has more Implications), but I gotta say. It was so funny that Snake, Seven, and Junpei just all went through Door 9 without Akane and Santa. They just fucking left em. Presumably Seven and Lotus left without Junpei, but where did Santa go in this ending? Caught up to Seven and Lotus, leaving with them? Drowned in the ship? Vanished mysteriously? Who knows~

Oh, yeah, Zero probably uses Soporil to drug people, huh? Delightful little bit of irony.

Another thing... I'm incredibly glad that I played the bad ends first? Like, take the Ace twist for example - it's only really satisfying if you've done Knife or Sub end first, since it confirms that he's the killer in those. And it only became EXTRA satisfying when doing one of those in combination with the Axe ending, because this one confirmed to me that he's the killer beforehand!

And him being the CEO, Zero having a grudge against Cradle Pharmaceutics - only really matter when you've gone through Door 2 before, and learned about the 16 missing children, Seven's backstory, and arrived at the conclusion that this was a previous Nonary Game. Santa's sister being dead also only comes as a shock after this, because it confirms what I thought - that she died here, on the Gigantic.

Like, seriously, I would've been so much less satisfied if I'd done this ending first. You SAW how fucking long I speculated about Snake being alive, right? Today I dm'd a friend who is mildly insane abt 999 about my full theory, and then two hours later I got it confirmed. How much more would it suck if I just... got it confirmed in my first playthrough, and then played the bad ends? They'd be nothing! Doing them first, it's a gradual crescendo of information, pieces slotting together ever so slowly, theories evolving into a coherent whole, before the Safe ending puts them all to rest, and opens up new questions, new theories.

Like, sure. There's still value in doing like, Door 3 Route, but Sub ending is Less Woah when you've seen the lesser version of Akane's last words, AND already know for sure that Ace is the killer.

TLDR: I'm very happy i went in the order I did, and fully committed to doing all bad ends first.

AND THAT'S MY LONG FUCKIN REVIEW OF SAFE ENDING!!! i thought it was called "Safe" ending because. Everybody gets out safe, but doesnt resolve the plot, or something, you know average "normal ending" stuff for VNs. But nah it just. Involves a literal safe. Okay

NEXT STOP, LAST DESTINATION! PLAYTHROUGH 5, TRUE ENDING!

[mixdown01]

Adaption: Final Reflection, POTP

{youtube link xoxo}

And that's post wrapped!

It's been a long semester, and I'm stoked to have learned as much as I have and to have developed the skills and knowledge I now have for the future. I don't have too many photos of post because I was really hunkering down but I'll try to find some to put in!

I'm proud of the work I managed to do in the time we had after picture lock and before the crit. I think an extra day or two to sit on sound and let it marinate would've be nice, but considering, I think I managed my time and schedule well and am glad of that.

(pretty long post so pls open the readmore ive put in!)

I'll start with a quick location sound review - I had no issues, beside the usual nuisances that come with filming outdoors and in businesses. I did what I could to minimize this (the angle/direction of the shotgun really does matter) and it worked, for the most part. I'm going to utilize wingman more in the future, because the sound notes put into the app can be seen in AVID next to the video files- I hadn't realized the info is "burned" into the files like that but this makes communication between sound and camera notes really nice. Of course ill do physical sound notes still, but in addition to wingman too.

Now onto post!

I was stressed about this, I admit. I hadn't done such a dialogue heavy film before, and was only vaguely familiar with the proper workflow. Common sense when organizing is huge though, and the project wasn't messy at all. Initial checkerboarding went smoothly. One thing I was irritated to notice was the quality of the park atmos changed very much depending on what angle we were shooting at relative to the road, which of course I knew would happen when we chose the location, but was still very blah this sucks about. I managed with minimal tension headaches and I think it is very minimally noticeable, if not noticeable at all, in the final product so yay for that.

Leveling and doing a temp mix for their lines, though.... I abused automation and I was holding myself back (to be fair I didn't overuse it but I definitely used it a lot). In one line the actors would start off quiet and then their voices would spike and go loud, which is a combination of delivery and boom oping I think. (It never peaked, and worked for some instances of topic and character and etc but I wanted it not to go up and down always) I gave my boom ops very very very Very basic rundowns on 'How To' and I wish I had sat them down for a more in depth lesson, and I WISH I had headphones for them - but we couldn't get a splitter, or didn't. Going to push for this if I keep outsourcing Ops and don't record and op myself.

ANYWAYS. Finished with that and then went to my favorite bit: DESIGN!!!!! I was very slumped and depressive at this point, so it really picked me up. I wish I had more time to look into certain music choices for scenes, but I am happy with the piano we got scored for the end sequence.

One thing I will say: I had a lot of trouble and internal fighting with How Much I should put in. Originally we had wanted something very stylized and Edgar Wright-esque, but that didn't really end up happening with the coverage we got, and in turn with the edit (which is definitely fine!). But this left me trying to balance not overdoing it, since sound is supposed to mesh well with the edit and visuals, but I felt like I HAD to make it stylized in order to try and get closer to what we wanted OG. I think I did an okay job - in the crit Olivia said the sound did all the heavylifting, which I still cannot decide is a compliment or a detriment. While I'm half glad it got noticed in a- positive?- light, im also kind of eh about it since technically it should enhance the world and match it, not 'heavylift' it.

Through the process Anne Marie helped me a lot with suggestions and notes: here are some I found below from my phone, they probably make no sense heh, I also had markers on pro tools I was referring too as well

Phew, that's long. I'll end on a happy note before I go into things I will incorporate into the workflow for next time. I'm glad I didn't have any technical issues, and all my qualms were creative. Even though I will be pushing for earlier picture lock on future films, because I feel I haven’t been able to breath when sound is left for minute (mainly because I’m trying to balance getting it all done and doing work I’m proud of) I'm content with what I managed to get done in the time I was given. I started Sound 7 days before the crit when picture was locked, and I managed to do what I think is an alright job! So, success, and a good test of my time management skills, because I had to learn to stop nitpicking cause more often than not it's fine and no one else can hear it but you.

THINGS TO INCORPORATE/MAIN TAKEAWAYS~

Wingman notes for the editor

set the edit window and sound window DURING PRE PROD, not during production. See if people can give you a week and a half at least for sound so it can breath a little bit and you don't waste away in SAS. Also so you can do a proper Mix and not a temp one

TEMP SOUND IN AVID - have a meeting with the editor to see what you can give them, and to say they can put in temp sound if they think something similar should go in certain places. Mainly for music and timing instances.

Decide on a color coding system so I use the same colors for everything always moving forward and It doesn't vary depending on the project (look up industry standard)

VOICEOVER IS A SCRIPT/STORY/PRODUCTION ASPECT not a sound department aspect

Drink more water to avoid tension headaches

xoxo I really hope everyone a good summer and to lots of learning and growing in their field!

[kakashihasibs]

Yamato for the headcanon meme?

Alright okay hmmm

1) realistic.

I know i really love the idea that Yamato gardens and takes care of plants, but i don't think he actually does. When we see him using mokuton it's always very structured, which makes sense since he studies architecture! But i think for a long while he actually ends up sort of distancing himself from the more "natural" uses of mokuton as a way of separating himself from Hashirama. (Not completely of course, we see him use deep forest emergence after all)

If he takes up gardening I think it's after retirement. When he is relaxed and able to feel completely free from being used as a weapon 😌 as much as that is possible for any shinobi.

2) hilarious.

This isn't funny but yaknow. I've seen a lot of people write Yam as a lightweight when it comes to drinking, but with the healing factor of mokuton i think he'd actually be able to out drink anyone. Like if yam wants to be drunk he has to work at it.

Which means in that omake with Asuma, how much did yam put away while poor asuma sat there watching askdjdkdl (i dont do this anymore but my idea of it is like when, at a party, i sat down at the bar and lined up more shots than i want to admit to and drank them all one after another 🤦 yam does that but bc of his weird healing abilities it's like if a regular person just drank a beer or two in somewhat quick succession)

4) unrealistic.

I am his trophy husband (joking). Uh idk I'm just vibing with the yam loves older pop music headcanon tbh.

Honestly with the drinking and the pop music Yamato's vibes in any bar setting is just profoundly weird and wonderful. You watch some random ninja guy drink more than anyone should physically be able to and sure he gets drunk but he isn't like dead from it and then he gets up to sing material girl by fucking Madonna. I love him.

3) sad.

Okay listen i have like the worst headcanon that I haven't said at all to anyone bc it's honestly distressing so these are outta order so i can put this under a read more. Brief CSA mention (more as an analogy) under the readmore. Read at ur own discretion. (Long and the short of it: the curse mark is like hella traumatizing)

SO I've thought a lot about that fucking curse mark on all the root agents. Bc it like haunts me. Danzo puts it on CHILDREN!

So like a lot of the seals and curse marks we see being made usually require: direct contact, blood, and occasionally like a ritual sort of setting.

Ugh okay so okay baby not yet tenzō whose only experiences up til that point have been surviving torture and experimentation and being 'rescued' by Danzo who only wants him to become an emotionless weapon for the nation state.

Danzo tells tenzō that he should be grateful for merely being alive. Convinces tenzō he cannot ask anything more. You have that dynamic going into what is most likely a ritual setting (maybe) with a grown man putting his blood covered fingers down this kid's throat specifically to keep tenzō (and any of the root kids) silent about Danzo. Anything that danzo does or orders is forcibly kept secret.

Danzo wants absolute power and control of the root agents. Like that has to be deeply and profoundly traumatizing. Even if tenzō didn't understand it then i have no doubt that that shit pops up later in life as flashbacks and intrusive memories. I think it affects him in a very similar way to how CSA affects people.

Like yam has probably been to a dentist once and never again. And I'm done now. Is this sad and awful enough?

(Edit to add: what i think is really getting to me about the curse mark is that it isnt to keep state secrets safe. No, it is specifically to prevent root members from talking about Danzo. Danzo isn't protecting konoha he's protecting himself. So no one can expose his abuses and crimes. So he doesn't have to face an consequences. AAAHHHHHHHH D:< i hate that man)

[moved-to-void-kissed]

Split of Twin Flowers

After being rescued from the realm of darkness, Aria seeks a way to give Ves a chance at living her own life, while also continuing to survive in her own right. Aqua brings her to the scientists at Radiant Garden to see if they have a solution, and for Aria to explain her situation, but the only option available may carry some worrying implications.. (3937 words)

Takes place after the ending of KH3. Content warning for mentions of battle scars, talk of a character being possessed, an event comparable to an exorcism (it’s kind of hard to explain in non-series-specific terms, sorry), and rather a lot of self-insert-focused exposition.

(Comments on and reblogs of my work are always okay, and appreciated, but are by no means required. I recommend reading this piece on the original document, but if that doesn't work, a transcript has been copied and pasted under the readmore.)

tag list: @thatslikesometaldude | @garchompp | @beeon | @tex-treasures | @catake | @tartaglialovemail | @catcao | @lilacslovers | @kissofthemoonrabbit | @vilehusband | @dragonsmooch | @childrenofmeyneth | @kalliopi-ships | @blackbirdcrime | @strawberryshipz (to be tagged in what I make, please click here!)

This is a piece I have been working on for a long time, and am very proud of, so I really appreciate anyone who takes the time to read it. I hope it isn’t quite as heavy as the content warnings may possibly indicate. I’m also using it as my post for the twenty-ninth day of sapphic September; there’s just one more to go!

Document transcript:

The door to the laboratory opened halfway, and a young woman tentatively poked her head around it. Upon seeing that she was not interrupting anything, she smiled and emerged more properly, brushing a lock of blue hair from her face.

“Oh, Master Aqua!” The lone scientist in the room smiled warmly as he noticed her. “Thank you for coming. I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“Thank you, Ienzo.” Aqua replied, even if she did still in fact look rather tired. The long battle to defeat Master Xehanort and the true Organisation still felt fresh in her mind, and although it was a fight that the light had eventually won, it had still taken quite a toll on her. Not only that, but she hadn’t had the same chance to rest as the others - though thoughts of locating Sora still weighed on everyone’s minds, Aqua had been more concerned with finding a way back into the realm of darkness in order to rescue Aria, her partner who she had so unwillingly abandoned..

Now that Aria was finally free as well, Aqua could let herself relax a bit more, and with that lowering of her guard came much contemplation of everything she had gone through.

“Um.. Master Aqua?”

“Ah!”

She’d been staring off into space again, judging by Ienzo’s worried expression half-visible under his hair.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, don’t worry!” she replied, slightly embarrassed at her lapse in concentration. The young scientist did not look entirely convinced, but he seemed content enough to continue.

“I’m the only one here at the moment, but I should still be able to help with what we talked about over the Gummiphone. Did you happen to bring Aria with you?”

At this, the half-open door Aqua had come through continued to swing open as if of its own accord, only to reveal another young woman entering the laboratory with a somewhat nervous expression. She had clearly been through a lot, and the realm of darkness she had reportedly been trapped in for aeons had definitely left its mark on her; several large patches of darkness could be seen spanning her face and body, with one reaching down her left eye like a melting wound.

“Yes, I’m here..”

Her catlike eyes flickered nervously around the room, and it soon became apparent that what Ienzo had thought was a cape were in fact a pair of black feathered wings, both subconsciously curling around her shoulders. It was only upon recognising that Ienzo was the only one present, and that his initial reaction to seeing her was not as negative as she was expecting, that she was able to relax slightly and explain herself from behind a now-steeled facade.

“My name is Aria.” she said, looking up at the scientist from under her messy blonde hair. “Aqua said you might be able to help me achieve something. Has she already.. told you about, well-”

“We’ve already spoken a little bit using the Gummiphone I was given before, but he said it was best for us to come and talk in person to try and get everything clear.” Aqua stepped in after sensing Aria’s hesitation and took her hand to support her partner. “It’s alright - you can trust him,” she whispered close to her ear.

Trusting only in her love’s reassurance, Aria started to explain her intentions to Ienzo, who seemed content to listen even considering the clear presence of darkness she had; this silent gesture of tolerance was greatly appreciated. She appeared hesitant to reveal much of her true nature as a Heartless, but she did what she could to inquire whether the young scientist knew any way for a heart to be released from its current body and inhabit a different one, allowing the dormant self within the original body to reawaken. Unfortunately, Ienzo remained pensive, even after she had said her part.

“So, you’re looking for a way for a heart to enter a new body? I’m sorry, but.. I’m not sure we’ll be able to help you. Any of the resources we could have used - which is to say, the replicas, they would have been perfect for this - were taken by Roxas, Xion, and Naminé’s hearts.”

“Oh. So, there is nothing you can do?” Aria persisted, but Ienzo shook his head.

Then came a flash of hesitant inspiration.

“Unless..” He trailed off and turned to look down one of the corridors leading away from the main lab space. “Could you two come with me, please?”

“Of course!” said Aqua brightly, as Aria nodded in assent.

==========

The three left the main hub of the laboratory to walk down the corridor, which felt as though it was turning downwards into a basement level of sorts. Once there, they came to a tall door which Ienzo unlocked with some sort of biometric scanner, and this opened out into yet another laboratory space with a similar layout to the first - however, this one seemed in a less presentable condition than the other, and its lack of windows seemed to be what was giving it a more foreboding presence. There was a distinct sense that something bad had happened here, once upon a time.

“After you and the other Guardians of Light helped to defeat Master Xehanort,” Ienzo was saying to Aqua, “we went back to the Keyblade Graveyard to see if there was anything to salvage from the battlefield, and we were able to bring this back with us.”

He gestured to a container at the far wall, in which the two Keyblade wielders could now see a strange white figure suspended inside, resembling a featureless mannequin. It appeared to be dressed in some kind of dark robes, of a dull purple colour inlaid with sharp red motifs, worn over pieces of tarnished metal armour. A number of scuffs and dents littered the otherwise-smooth surface, and Aria could sense traces of a dark presence seeping from the container, despite the blank nature of the figure itself.

“What is this..?”

“This is one of the replicas that Even created, back when he was still Vexen, and a member of the first Organisation.” Ienzo explained. “The first twelve were prototypes, initially abandoned as failures, since they were made before his assistant provided the data needed to perfect them, but.. From what I understand, the real Organisation - which Vexen was also a part of at the beginning - repurposed those twelve into vessels for Xehanort’s heart, as backups in case the people they brought through time fell in battle again.”

“That’s right, I remember fighting these now.” muttered Aqua. “But, didn’t they fuse into one form, eventually?”

“That’s what I thought, too, from your accounts of the situation.” replied the scientist. “I’m not sure if Sora defeating the replicas in battle made them all separate out again, since they weren’t really designed to be fused, or if this one was already too damaged to combine with the others in the first place. Regardless, it was the only one we recovered.”

He now turned to face the blank figure with a concerned expression. “We’ve been running some experiments to see whether it can be repurposed for anything, but.. There’s a lot of darkness still lingering within it, so it wouldn’t be safe for a heart of light to inhabit without risking it also being afflicted by that darkness. And we haven’t found a good way of destroying that darkness without compromising the replica, either.”

“I could sense the dark power when I saw it, so corruption would seem a likely outcome.” Aria mused. “This would also be darkness from Xehanort, so.. it isn’t that surprising that some part of it stuck around. Persistence did seem to be his only worthwhile trait.”

She had crossed her arms in contempt at this last part, but seemed satisfied enough to relax after studying the replica further. “It shouldn’t matter any more than he did in the long run, though.”

“Hmm..” Aqua seemed concerned about the prospect, but was trying to keep an open mind. “What do you make of it, Aria?”

“Well..” She took a moment to examine the figure with an unchanging expression. “The replica body itself has sustained some damage from the fight, but I don’t see why that would affect my ability to inhabit it - it’s just possible that those injuries would reflect in my new appearance, which is.. nothing I’m not accustomed to. And, if the heart within a replica determines its appearance, then maybe what’s left of my heart - or, I suppose, the heart that I once was - would be able to smooth over those gaps. Though, if it’s the latter, that could mean my appearance ends up changing, which.. is not what I want.”

Aqua tentatively nodded, but Ienzo seemed more visibly confused.

“I’m sorry to interject, but- what do you mean by “the heart that you once were”? You’re saying that that’s different to your heart, somehow?”

“..In a sense, yes. How do I explain this..?” There was a slight pause as Aria tried to gather her thoughts, and it was clear she was still trying to think by the hesitant nature of her words that followed. She had seen right through to the heart of the man standing before her, which glowed with a newly-restored lustre. It was a heart that sought to help people, and sought knowledge in order to do that, though there were visible flickers of a long-seated regret present as well. Still, it was a heart that she judged would not judge her, so she decided to provide it with the truth she hoped would sate it.

“Though I look mostly human to you, this- isn’t technically my body, however much I treated it as such. If I were to let go of this vessel, or be driven out from her, you would see me as I really am - a Heartless, a flowering thing. However, Heartless are created when a heart is consumed by darkness, so.. surely the appearance I would take if I were to possess a blank replica would be that of the person this heart - my heart - used to belong to. Only, I don’t- I don’t really see myself as him, or as Ves. I am different, I am my own- well, person, if I can even call myself that. Yet, when I imagine my appearance outside of this vessel, I can only see myself as a Heartless. Does that make any sense?”

“I think I follow..” the scientist mumbled, though his still-furrowed brow seemed to indicate otherwise. “So, you kept your memories of who you were, even after turning into a Heartless? Kairi had implied that the same thing happened to Sora, but.. I’d just attributed that to him turning the Keyblade of heart on himself to free her, so it wouldn’t have happened to anyone else.”

This claim caused Aria to shake her head. “To my knowledge, the method is irrelevant; what matters is the intention. The more willingly a person opens their heart to the darkness, the more of their mind they keep when their heart is consumed, and they become a Heartless. I believe this is what happened with Ansem, though he actively sought after darkness so strongly that he retained a human appearance as well as mind. The emblem on his chest was the only way an onlooker could tell his true nature. When it comes to my original self, he was a Keyblade wielder, very similar to what I know of Sora, but… though he certainly did not willingly or deliberately let his heart be consumed, he was able to accept his fate in his final moments, and that is what allowed the Heartless formed at his demise - so, in other words, me - to retain some semblance of mind and self. Just.. not as much of it.”

“Oh. Yes, I think that makes more sense now. Thank you for the clarification.” said Ienzo. He was writing something furiously in a book that seemed to appear out of nowhere, then became startled when he realised his blunder. In an instant, he opened his mouth to ask something, but closed it with relief when Aria’s expression reassured him she did not mind him making notes about her.

It was Aqua’s turn to speak up now. “It’s so interesting to hear about this from you, Aria - but, I can’t say I’ve seen that kind of behaviour in any of the Heartless I’ve fought before. Had you noticed it at any point while we were in the realm of darkness?”

“Not that I can recall.” she replied. “It isn't exactly that common of an occurrence, considering most people’s disdain for the darkness. And, not only that, but..” She turned away from the other two here, and her next words came much more reluctantly again.

“Before I took over Ves, I remember feeling that I was losing myself - all I was driven by was this desire to be complete again, to be human again, but that was fading away over time. Then, when I found her, I didn’t necessarily feel more human, but what sense of humanity I did have was no longer fading away. So, if I hadn’t found her or someone like her in time, I probably would have lost my sense of self completely, and become just as mindless as most other Heartless are. It’s only thanks to the type of Heartless I became that I was even able to possess her in the first place, and.. I didn’t start to truly feel more like a person until I met other Keyblade wielders, and they interacted with me.”

“I see, I see.. So you’re saying that, in those Heartless that retain a sense of who they were before becoming Heartless, the remnants of normal heart behaviour - of humanity, if you will - have to be nurtured by others in order to be sustained, and will just be lost to the darkness if not actively encouraged?”

“Yes.”

Ienzo paused to finish hastily scribbling this knowledge down in his notebook, then lifted his head in realisation once he had had some time to think. “I think I might remember something of that from the old Organisation, actually.. Though, the memory is very hazy..”

To stop his mind from wandering as it wanted to, he returned to address the matter at hand.

“From what you’ve said, Aria, it does sound like you’d be able to make use of this replica - and you may well be the only one who could. I don’t think there’s any other solution here for you, and.. I say there’s no better way to find out than by experimenting. Give me a moment to get everything ready, and then we’ll be set to see if it works!”

Aria nodded, content with the proposal, but Aqua reached out to take her hand with a worried expression.

“Aria, are you sure you want to do this..?”

“Of course I am, Aqua. This is why I came here.” she replied. Then she hesitated again. “..Why, is there something wrong?”

“Well, no, it’s just-” Aqua took a moment to settle her whirling thoughts, holding both of Aria’s hands in her own now. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when I use my Keyblade on you. I don’t want to hurt you, or even destroy you. And, if something happened with the darkness infecting the replica, then..”

Aria couldn’t bring herself to meet Aqua’s gaze, but it was clear she appreciated the consideration, and did her best to reassure her love. “If I could leave of my own accord, I would have done so by now, but.. we’ve become too intertwined for me to do that myself. And Ves is not quite strong enough to drive me out from within - it’s enough of an effort for her to stay existing in the first place. So.. an outside force seems to be the only way to separate us. And there isn’t anyone I’d trust to wield that force, other than you.”

Despite herself, Aqua couldn’t help but smile at the last admission, and she felt her normal confidence returning. “..Alright then. If you’re sure about this, then.. I’m happy to be able to help.”

The two embraced for a moment, then there was a pause of silence as Aria took a few steps back to stand in the middle of the room. Once Ienzo had brought the replica out of its container, he carried it around to the other end of the laboratory, closer to the other two. Aqua summoned her Brightcrest Keyblade, then slowly raised its tip to be level with the X on Aria’s outfit. She took a deep breath, then pointed the Keyblade directly at her partner, echoing the movement used to open the paths to new worlds.

Aria instinctively flinched when a thin beam of bright light shot forward from the tip of Aqua’s Keyblade, striking her directly in the chest. She was then forced down into a kneel as an aura of pink-tinted darkness began to escape from her body. Her expression was grim, as if she was in pain, but Aqua caught sight of a hint of a smile before the darkness now emanating much more rapidly from her form started rising up to create something above her. It almost completely engulfed her body as if to pull it upwards too, seeming particularly concentrated around her head and wings, before disconnecting entirely to drop a drained figure to the floor. This left a dense collection of dark pink wisps, amalgamating in the air.

Ienzo was now well off to the side, looking rather alarmed, but his expression was replaced with complete surprise when the amorphous cluster of darkness coalesced, giving way to what looked like a floating mass of pink petals. Eventually, it turned around to reveal a large jagged mouth and piercing yellow eyes, staring with an expression he found difficult to interpret. The Heartless stayed floating in place for a moment, as if disoriented, then suddenly appeared to notice Aqua, staring at her curiously.

“Aria..?”

Her tentative call was clearly recognised by the flowering monster, which began to float cautiously towards her. She still had her Keyblade summoned, and her hand was trembling ever-so-slightly - whether with nervousness, uncertainty, or something else entirely, it was impossible to tell. Then, Ienzo stepped between the two and lifted up the replica body, hoping that Aria still remembered the plan.

“Here!”

It seemed the Heartless remained aware, as she moved forwards more purposefully after this, and collided directly with the empty vessel’s centre. A few petals scattered from the force, but it took only a few moments for the Heartless’ form to disappear entirely, appearing to be absorbed into the replica body. This caused another aura of darkness to manifest, enveloping the blank surface of the replica and making Ienzo recoil from the body - but it caught itself as it fell from his grasp to end up kneeling on all fours. A few more moments passed, as the darkness engulfed the entire body in a shell, before gradually dissipating after a few gold sparks were seen being forced out of the system.

The figure that stood up was slightly smaller than the replica had looked in the container, with catlike ears now poking upwards from a fluffy head of golden blonde hair. As she lifted her head, a cluster of cute freckles were seen scattered across her face, though in what Aqua thought was a slightly different arrangement than before. There were other little differences here and there, as well - the shape of her face, the way her hair fell at the back, how she stood dressed in the unfamiliar clothes from the replica in the middle of the silent laboratory.

But all of Aqua’s worries disappeared when the girl standing before her opened her eyes. Neither the bright, empty yellow of the lesser, mindless Heartless, nor a piercing orange like the seeker of darkness, nor even the harsh cold shade between the two that Aria’s eyes had been before, but a warm and resolute amber was the colour that met Aqua’s gaze, and regarded her with a renewed sense of gratitude and love.

“Aria!”

The Keyblade Master ran across the room towards her partner and nearly knocked her over with the energy of her emotions. Aria was nervous, but comfortably allowed herself to melt into Aqua’s embrace, now able to feel the connection between the pair even more strongly than before. Something felt so much more tangible about her presence now, and the relief coursing through her new body was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“Aqua, it really worked..!” she smiled, speaking in a quiet voice filled with gratitude.

“I’m so glad you’re alright!” exclaimed Aqua, who also had a few tears in her eyes. “How do you feel? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s all fine, I promise.” she asserted. “The replica’s darkness was not organised; it was just remnants that my presence has removed. I feel.. different, but in the best possible way. I could never have done this without you here with me - thank you, so much, for being here..”

She trailed off, still smiling at her partner, and another wonderful moment came and went. Then, a movement from behind Aqua caused Aria’s expression to take on a slightly fearful quality, and she turned her head to see what was happening. The cause of this movement was the figure left behind when Aqua set Aria free, who was slowly trying to get to her feet, her heart’s light flickering nervously. A bright green eye could be seen darting anxiously around the room from under her hair, but she was too weak to properly move, and quickly fell back to the ground again. Ienzo stepped in to support her, and his assistance was clearly welcomed as she was just about able to stand.

“Please take her somewhere she can recover.” Aria requested hurriedly. “After everything I put her through, she needs every opportunity she can to rest and adjust to being herself again..”

“Don’t worry. We have good facilities here.” Ienzo assured her. “Everything will be fine.”

This did little to ease Aria’s guilt, but the gesture was nevertheless appreciated. “Thank you, Ienzo.”

The scientist nodded, and then slowly helped the girl walk to the corridor. She appeared to be very shaken, and was glancing at everything with apprehension and unfamiliarity, but as she turned the corner of the corridor, she looked back at the couple still standing side-by-side, and met the eyes of both her saviour and her prison.

(For all that you have done to me, I know why you do not deserve forgiveness.

But, this is not the first time we have seen each other face-to-face since that day, thanks to that mirror you found in the darkness.

And ever since that moment, you have sought a way to free yourself from me. To let me live the life you once denied me. To break the hold that any other being you’d call your kind would do everything to strengthen.

You calculated the risks, but you still took them - the risk you would lose everything and the one person you cared for, for the sake of me getting to “get rid of you”.

So, who am I to judge a person - the person you have become - by the actions of the creature you once were..?)

A ghost of a smile flickered over her face, and the long-held vessel finally free again spoke of her own accord for the first time since the age of ancient fairytales.

“Thank you, Aria..”

[sokkabeifong]

48 for tokka?

y'all know I'm a slut for height differences. tokka for number 48 (one person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner’s) here we go.

If there was an award for worst backseat driver, Toph would take home the gold.

"LEFT! I said take a left, you idiot!"

Sokka grips the steering wheel tightly as he turns right, into the airport parking lot. He lost his most of his patience about five lefts ago. "You're about one left turn away from death by strangulation, T."

She smirks, and he forces himself to look away. He knows if he catches a glimpse of her dimpled grin he won't be able to look away. He focuses on making a steady park job instead, craning his neck to and fro in order to straighten his car.

"My God, Snoozles, you just barely scraped that van next to us," comes Toph's bouce casually from his right.

"What?!" He whips his head around, thankfully sans the steering wheel, so that his eyes land frantically on the smooth, low-to-the-ground sport car that Toph is gesturing to. His eyes narrow.

"I hate you," he mutters, but she's too busy cracking up to hear him. Her laugh consists of a few short breathe followed by snorting through her nose, and it's one of the weirdest things he's ever heard.

He loves it so much.

"Are you ever going to not fall for that?" she says, making a show of wiping a tear from her eye.

"One of these days," he says, opening his door and hopping out. "And don't expect me to open that door for you!"

Her dramatic gasp is audible even from outside the car. He shakes his head, but he can't keep from grinning. She has that effect on him.

He goes to the back to unload her bags, and an all-too-familiar sense of dread overcomes him. Toph's throaty laugh is an easy and welcome distraction from the reason they're at the airport in the first place.

"I can take it from here, thanks," she says, coming around to stand beside him and grabbing the bags from off of the ground. They take up both of her hands, so he takes two from her right one and grasps it tightly.

She doesn't look at him, but she understands. "It's gonna be okay," she says, squeezing it. "I promise."

He sighs, not commenting. Instead he leads her by the hand up the walk and to the shuttle stop, where he leans against her like his life depends on it. He isn't sure why the full impact of her leaving for college isn't hitting him until now, but it is, right here in the breeze and the trees and the God-ugly shuttle stop.

He should have seen it coming. He had, he really had. Or at least he'd tried. When she told him she was leaving their small, suburban town and going to college in the city, part of him had thought she was joking. Which, in his defense, was what she was doing most of the time.

But the thing he admires most about his girlfriend is her determination, and so here they are, waiting for a shuttle that will take them to the airport, where she will get on a plane and be virtually gone from his life for the next four months.

Christmas, he tells himself. Just wait until she comes home for Christmas.

The shuttle arrives, and they clamber onto the bus, barely squeezing into the back, but close enough so that they no longer need to hold hands. He's practically on her lap.

She chuckles in her weird way, right in his ear, and her breath is cool on his cheek. "If you'd wanted sex, you should've said so earlier. It's a little late now."

The grin she always manages to pull out of him reappears. "There's always the bathroom," he tells her. "Don't hold your breath."

"Can't help it, the guy next to me absolutely reeks," she says, not bothering to lower her voice. The man turns, frowning, and she smiles innocently at him.

Luckily they pull into the shuttle stop at the airport, and everyone piles off. Sokka reclaims Toph's hand, and they head for security. She gets her bags checked after a surprisingly short wait, which only makes him more antsy. A long line would've given them time, the time he desperately needs. They grab a quick bite at a hamburger stand, and then before he knows it they're at that horrible point where he can no longer follow. He eyes the line to enter the waiting area and loading lines angrily.

"Hey," she says, pulling on his hand. He has no choice but to look at her, into her pale green eyes, so hazy that they're almost white.

"Yeah?" he says stupidly.

"It's only four months." She tilts her head, and he mirrors her. "I'll be back before long. Think you can keep yourself out of trouble until then?"

"I think so," he replies, and his attempt to keep his voice neutral fails. It cracks loudly and embarrassingly, but she doesn't wince or cringe.

"I love you," she says, standing on her tiptoes. Immediately he bends down so that their lips can meet, and they do. He cups her face gently in his hand, and she stands as far as she can, balancing on the tip of her converse. All too soon she breaks away.

"I love you, too," he breathes. She grins and neither of them speaks for a moment. Slowly she reaches up and begins touching his face, softly but surely, her tongue sticking out in concentration.

He doesn't pull away. This is her way of saying goodbye.

"There," she says, pulling away. "I've memorized your ugly face."

"Watch yourself, or I might not be here when you get back," he teases, and as a reward he earns one last laugh from her. It echoes around in his head, hurtling down paths and pushing through his ears, ringing and running and ringing. Toph is in his head, and she's not leaving anytime soon.

He smiles. Just how he likes it.

EDIT: I posted it and used the readmore thing, but unfortunately it didn't work as far as I know. Anon, I'm really sorry about that and will try and fix it when I get home.

EDIT AGAIN: I DID IT ON THE APP THSNK GOODNESS okay and thank you for your help @writebecauseyoucannotbreathe hehe

[miru667]

Got any art tips?

Tons, i could talk about art all day. I actually had a draft saved of a few of my personal tips just for my own reminder, i guess i can edit it so it's coherent and share it here? 😅 under the readmore haha

-sometimes things drawn to real life accuracy...are worse. watching ANTM made me realize this. think abt overall picture and composition, shapes, parallel/perpendicular lines, line of motion. This also goes for drawing a character "on model". Sometimes we gotta go off model for the sake of the composition. Only certain things please our eyes - nature is weird like that -sometimes we get stubborn or lazy and draw something in a certain perspective or angle just because that's the perspective or angle we're used to even tho we know it's wrong for this pic or that it's making the pic look bad. Don't be stubborn or lazy! Don't be afraid to draw it in the right perspective or angle even tho u haven't done it that way before. That's the whole point - make art a learning experience, an experiment, break out the refs and u will improve even during the middle of working on an artwork

-but ofc if u just wanna chill u can be lazy. we do art for diff reasons. im lazy like all the time. but if u wanna actively improve then u can't be lazy. -if something feels off and u cant tell what it is, try covering a part of the picture with ur hand and see if the rest looks okay. If it does, then u know the uncovered part isn't the problem. The problem is either something in the part u covered or the way the two parts have been arranged together. Keep covering different areas of the pic til u can pinpoint what exactly u need to fix or redraw. u can also: take breaks, flip the image, or look at the drawing on a different device. it refreshes ur view. i never finish anything in one sitting, my art would look horrible if i did. Er i guess this entire bullet point depends on whether u have enough visual experience in the first place to know when something has been drawn wonky aha

-fixing ur mistakes will build ur muscle memory and make it easier for next time

[im-the-punk-who]

The Real People of Black Sails!

Here’s a quick(I promise....I promise this is as short as I could make it without leaving out some really choice shit) rundown of all the real historical figures peppered throughout Black Sails! I think I caught them all but if you know of others please mention them and I’ll add them on! Under a readmore because this is....so long y’all.

Pirates & Maroons

Anne Bonny (possibly 1697 – unknown; possibly April 1782) Started life crossdressing at her dad’s behest to avoid his wife(who wasn’t Bonny’s mom), married a guy her dad didn’t like, moved to Nassau. There her husband became a spy for Rogers and Anne was like ‘Not cool bro’. She met Jack, they started fucking, and Anne discovered she was really good at stabbing things. Resumed dressing as a man and started trying to seduce Mary Read who was also dressed as a man. They did indeed fall victim to one of the classic queer blunders. Anyway, Anne’s like ‘it’s not gay I’m a chick!’ And Mary is like ‘really?? Then it’s a little gayer than you realize because I’m a chick too!’ They (probably) start banging. Rackham’s like ‘hang on! I’m the only dick in Anne’s life’ and Mary and Anne are like ‘you sure are’ and Mary shows him her boobs and then they have some sort of complicated and probably not totally consensual threeway. Then they get captured because, Jack is That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and Mary and Anne had to defend the ship against like, a whole other crew. Jack is hung(not a dick joke), but both Anne and Mary plead stays of execution due to pregnancy. Anne disappears but possibly is maybe referred to later. No one knows. Neat!

Edit: According to sources from this post there is a genealogical record that refers to Anne and it records her death as 1782. Very neat!

Israel Hands (c.1701-death unknown) Israel Hands was a real pirate and Blackbeard’s first mate. Not much else is known about where he came from or his life, other than that Blackbeard shot him in the knee at one point while supposedly aiming for another man. ‘Oops my bad this pistol is from like, the 18th century or something.’ While recuperating in Bath he was arrested after Teach’s death but took a pardon in exchange for ratting out the colonial officials who had been bribed by Teach. It’s unknown what happened to him after that although That Book About Pyrites says he died a beggar in London.

Benjamin Hornigold (1680–1719) Horny4gold was one of the most well known and influential pirates of the Golden Age. Most other pirates sailed under him or with him at one point, and he was one of the founders of the Pirate Republic of Nassau. He never attacked british ships during his time as captain so that he could be like ‘but brooooo I was acting in Britain’s Interests!!! Bro!!!!!’ But his co-pirates didn’t like that and eventually voted to replace him with Sam Bellamy. He accepted the king's pardon in 1718 and became a pirate hunter instead. Bummer. He was reportedly killed in a shipwreck.

Okay listen Horingold in any universe is a fucking JOKE I have to share this passage with y’all:

“Hornigold is recorded as having attacked a sloop off the coast of Honduras, but as one of the passengers of the captured vessel recounted, "they did us no further injury than the taking most of our hats from us, having got drunk the night before, as they told us, and toss'd theirs overboard"” WHAT A JOKE.

Dr. Howell - (birth/death unknown) John Howell was a pirate surgeon forced into service by Hornigold sometime in early 1717. He sailed with various pirate crews until October before returning into the service of Governor Rogers.

Ned Low (1690–1724) N’EDWARD. Okay I’m serious again. Born in London, Lowe grew up a thief in a thief family before moving to Boston. His wife died in childbirth in 1719, so he decided ‘fuck it I’ll become a Pirate Captain’ and did just that. He was known for torturing the people on board the ships he captured before murdering them and burning the ship. Interestingly though, Lowe was known to have a huge amount of regret over abandoning his daughter when he turned pirate, and wouldn’t force married men into his service. He also reportedly would allow women to return to port safely. Because of his numerous captures and cruelties, he was one of the most well known pirates in his day. There are differing reports about Low’s death - some say his crew mutinied and marooned him and he was subsequently hung, others say his ship sunk in a storm, and some say he just straight up disappeared. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Jack Rackham - (December 26, 1682 – November 18, 1720) Really a pirate, really named himself after a housecat pattern. (No, okay, he didn’t, it was because of his threads. But wouldn’t the cat thing fit too?) Sailed with Vane, Anne Bonny, and Mary Read. Was mostly known for being That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and being Anne and Mary’s captain. He was captured and sentenced to hang after the aforementioned Drunk Blunder in 1720.

Mary/Mark Read - (1685 – 28 April 1721) Much like Anne Bonny, Mary dressed as a boy for much of her youth so a parent could swindle someone out of money. From her teenage years on she continued dressing as a man to find work in the military and as a sailor. She did marry but her husband died young and so she decided to become a pirate. Like ya do. She accepted the king’s pardon in 1718, then mutinied on the privateer she was aboard, once again becoming a pirate. Because pirates are sexy. In 1720 she joined Jack Rackham’s crew and sailed with him and Bonny. Cue the whole ‘Hey you’re hot, also I’m a woman.’ ‘Oh, hey, same hat!’ with Anne. In November of 1720, Rackham’s ship was captured. Mary died of a fever in prison(likely due to her pregnancy) in 1721.

Edward Teach - (c. 1680 – 22 November 1718) He started piracy sailing under Hornigold, and built the fleet alongside him and Stede Bonnet until Hornigold retired. COOL fact about Blackbeard is he was a MASTER showman who liked to light slow burning fuses under his hat to scare his enemies, and he relied more heavily on creating an image his prizes feared than violence. He did a lot of cool shit including ransoming the entire town of Charles Town and annoying the shit out of Woodes Rogers before settling in Bath and later dying of like, a shit ton of wounds while battling Lieutenant Maynard. The battle on Roger’s ship is pretty much what happened minues the keelhauling. Afterwards he was beheaded, his head hung from the bow of Maynard’s ship, and his body was thrown in the bay in Bath, where it’s said his ghost still haunts! Funky!

Charles Vane - (1680 – 29 March 1721)  Really a pirate captain! Known for being Not A Nice Dude. Sailed with Henry Jennings, Edward England and Jackie Rackhammie. He led the pirates in resisting Rogers in Nassau, and yeah he really did light a ship on fire and 18th centuryeet it into Rogers’ line in order to escape. There’s a note that he returned to Nassau to get married but I couldn’t find any info on who he married so he’s gay now. That’s a rule I just made up. Anyway so at one point his ship got into a fight with another ship and Vane ordered a retreat and the crew was like ‘this is BOOshit’ and voted him out in favor of Jack Rackham. Ouch. Vane and some of the crew that supported him left aboard the Katherine(I believe) but then they got caught in a storm that said ‘fuck you specifically to Charles Vane,’ and he was marooned on an island. He survived! Just long enough for a British ship to stop at the island for him to attempt to board, get caught, and then hung. Deus ex piratica.

(Honorary mentions)

John Silver + Captain Flint (sort of but I’m not kidding!) Okay so of course there are a bunch of suspected origins of the characters of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, but the one I like the most is of two brothers - one of whom had a peg leg! - who captured an enormous Spanish treasure and buried it near Ocracoke island. Their names were John and Owen Lloyd. (And yes, John was the one-legged brother.) In 1750 a Spanish treasure fleet named the Flotas de Indias attempted to sail from Havana to Spain in late August, and three ships were wrecked during a hurricane. By a stroke of luck, the Lloyd brothers had been blown to the same inlet as the wrecked ships Guadalupe and Soledad , and managed to convince the Captain to hire them to transport the treasure to Norfolk. 

But of course because they thought the Spanish SUCKED they said ‘psyche’ and just fucked off with it while the Captain was fighting Bureaucratic red tape in North Carolina. Iconique. Owen Lloyd reportedly buried the treasure on Norman Island and  the pair became folk heroes in the area, particularly in St. Kitts.  (P.s., the Stevenson family ran a sugar production business on St. Kitts, and R.L. Stevenson’s great grandfather worked there as early as 1773 - just 25 years after the epic heist. COOL STORY BRO.)

Captain Throckmorton (Okay not really but I just love this guy’s name) Okay so this guy wasn’t really a pirate captain but he was a Steamboat captain in the 1830s and his name is just too ridiculous for someone to make up. Toot toot, motherfucker.

---------

Queen Nanny(Maroon Queen/Madi) (c. 1686 – c. 1755) The spiritual, cultural, and military leader of the Windward Maroons (who the Black Sails Maroons are based on.) She led them alongside her ‘brother’ Quao although the relationship between them isn’t known. Exact information about her origins are not known but best guess is that she was of royal lineage from present-day Ghana, born sometime in the 1680’s. She did have a husband named Adou(who may have been the same person as Quao? I’ve read conflicting stuff), but they had no children. Many of the guerilla warfare tactics we now think of as common practice were developed by Queen Nanny and the other Maroons in their fight against British incursions. (The trap that Flint lays, covering themselves with paint and leaves, and the pits the Maroons lay in the forest are tactics known to have been used by the Windward Maroons.)

Nanny was a fucking legend okay a LEGENDS ONLY legend. She was one of the most instrumental people in preserving African culture among freed slaves and Maroons, and in encouraging the resistance to slavery in the Bahamas and surrounding areas. She was one of three leaders of the First Maroon War (which the war in Black Sails is based on). She initially refused to sign the treaty offered to Cudjoe because she knew the British were losing and was like ‘Why????? Would I surrender???? In a war??? I’m winning?????’

Anyway Queen Nanny was a fucking badass please read every piece of literature you can find on her. (You should absolutely read her full bio because she was fucking badass.)

Cudjoe (not exactly, but Julius is very close) (c. 1690s – 1764) Likely a freeborn son of one of the original escaped slaves turned Maroons, Cudjoe is hailed as one of the greatest Maroon leaders(after Queen Nanny). Much like in Black Sails, these original Maroons were slaves who escaped or overran their masters, forming free communities in the Mountains of Jamaica. The treaty in Black Sails is based on the one Cudjoe negotiated with the British, wanting an ‘honorable peace’ with the enemy, rather than the continued war and better terms that Queen Nanny and Quao wanted. (sound familiarrrrrr?) I do want to note that by the end of his life he became completely disillusioned with the idea that the British should be reasoned with and basically started fights with every British superior he could.

The English, Spanish, and Scottish!

The Guthries So while there wasn’t ever a female head of the Guthrie clan in Nassau, the Guthries were a Scottish merchant clan who emigrated to Boston around 1652 due to religious and racial persecution. While most of the family stayed around Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, John Guthrie moved to Virginia and his brother James Guthrie moved to Bermuda sometime after 1683.

(James Guthrie of Suffolk County, Massachusetts was listed in the will of John Richardson, dated 7 May 1683, in which Richardson says, “I give and bequeath unto James Guthrie all I have in the world except twenty shillings to buy John Harris a ring and ten shillings to buy John Kyte a ring.” This was witnessed by John Raynsford and John Ramsey.) Fellas is it gay.

Anyway, between Virginia and Boston and James’ ties in the Bermuda islands, the family made a shit ton fencing pirated goods during the Golden Age of Piracy, particularly from the Pirate Republic of Nassau.

A John Guthrie(likely a son of James’) was also a Colonel who was part of the peace talks with Cudjoe and the Maroons. Neat!

James Oglethorpe (22 December 1696 – 30 June 1785) Okay listen Oglethorpe was COOL AS FUCK. He is the founder of the colony of Georgia and is imo who Thomas Hamilton is probably based on. Oglethorpe was a HUGE humanitarian and even before he decided to form an entire colony around people not owning slaves. He advocated for better conditions for sailors, and prison reform. In 1732 he read a letter by a slave in Maryland named Ayuba Suleiman Diallo and on the spot decided slavery was terrible, divested himself of his stock in the African Trading Company, and resolved to include a law banning slavery in Georgia to the colony’s charter. Radical, man.

Speaking of Georgia, and specifically his plantation near Savannah, Oglethorpe actively spoke with the native Yamacraw who populated the land to ask permission and trade for the land he sought to build Georgia on. His plantation was meant to help debtors in London, released without any support, from falling back into debt and offering them a way forward to landownership through indentured servitude. I highly recommend anyone interested in early attempts at an equality based colonial system read up on the original charter of Georgia. (Of course there were still problems, but Oglethorpe was one of the most prominent proponents of a non hierarchical society - including limits to the acreage any person could own based on how helpful that land was to the people who worked it, and communal resources.) Oglethorpe was also a lifelong friend with Tomochichi, the chief of the Yamacraw, and worked very closely with him on colonial-indigenous relations.

Vincente de Raja (birth/death unknown) He was the real Governor and military Captain of Cuba from 1716-1717. He was a devoted pirate hunter and encouraged Spanish privateering against the pirates. Due to an attempt by Spain to increase tobacco profits at the expense of the farmers, there was a large revolt which resulted in many of the Cuban officials, including Raja, being replaced. 

William Rhett (4 September 1666 – 12 January 1723) He was a merchant captain and plantation owner in Carolina who served in the colonial militia and hunted pirates. He captured Stede Bonnet and was probably just as much of an asshole as he is in the show.

Woodes Rogers - (c. 1679 – 15 July 1732) The Governor of Nassau who was largely responsible for ending piracy in the Bahamas. He really did offer a universal pardon, which a large number of the pirates took. Fun fact: before he was Governor, he rescued Alexander Selkirk, who is believed to be the guy Robinson Crusoe is based off of! Neat! He really did have a brother who really did die during his privateering exploits which also really did leave him ‘disfigured’. He got sued by his crew, went bankrupt, wrote a book, got famous for writing the book, and he really did have a wife named Sarah whom he divorced shortly after all this happened. He then became Governor of Nassau for the first time. This first term did end in him being imprisoned for debts incurred defending the island from Vane and Teach and the Spanish, but he was released, helped write that most famous A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates, and became governor again in 1728. He died in 1732 of just plain exhaustion from dealing with the bureaucracy. Alexa play tiny violin.

[ravenwolfie97]

2021 Art Summary

The time old tradition continues. I’ll be honest; this year was rough. Like, I scraped the bottom of the barrel for most of these months. Very little art was accomplished (or, at least, completed), and I had felt pretty bad about that the last couple months. But, as it turns out, I wasn’t alone in that. Every other artist I’ve seen has said they’ve been in the exact same boat. So I’m glad now that I could do what I could this year. And now, as always, I’ll share my journey through this year with you!

normally i don’t hide these under a readmore but this one kinda got away from me and i wanted to spare your and my dashboards this time

HEY SO remember when i said i would work on my TOME Fan Animations every day all year? hahaha Yeah That Didn’t Happen I spent like ten days out of the month tops, and in that time I really only worked a little bit on storyboards and got almost all of my character’s talksprites redone. And I do like them! But yeah. I honestly don’t even know what will become of that project, if anything, at this point.

In addition to that, I participated yet again in Gotta Draw ‘Em All on deviantArt with Grookey as my muse. What a lil cutie. Sadly, this was the final event for that group, but I’m glad I was there to contribute to it.

I also continued my TOME server’s art challenge tradition of making a TOMERPG character from scratch, and Zeitgeist was born. I just think it’s got a cool design :>

Also! New thing I’m doing for this summary: some WIPs! because I did a lot of them and I’m upset that I didn’t ever get to finish them! So to kick it off here’s one that began in January and was last updated in June: a “six fanarts” part three exclusively for cute girls

okay let’s continue

i’ll tell you right now that this year is comprised of a lot of sketches because digital art was too hard or too time- or energy-consuming, so i tried to make them look really nice this time

This was the height of my Genshin fever, and the only prescription was playing it more and finally attempting to draw and write some stuff with it. Razor was the first actual character I drew, mainly cuz I love him lots, but also cuz I thought his design would lend well to my style. I also made myself a Genshin sona, as well as ones for Michael and Val (not shown cuz i couldn’t get a design figured out for Val at all): Raven (me) is a Hydro sword user, Michael is an Anemo bow user, and Val is a Pyro claymore user. Wanted to try my hand at making my own Genshin-esque designs after having lots of opinions on the actual characters and doing a bunch of edits on some of them.

My Pokemon 25th anniversary pic was late, so it goes in here. I had such a fun time emulating Sugimori’s modern art style... even if it took forever to do.

Also Astra (my nb genshin traveler) got a redesign and I still haven’t made a proper ref for it. But they do look a lot cooler. I drew them at work :>

I wanted to draw more genshin, so I asked for genshin to draw, and I attempted only one. but Venti was a good one. Got into Montero (Call Me By Your Name) too much and got Val vibes, and also watched Queer ✨ too much and loved the bisexual lighting in the third act too much, so. yeah. mix em together and that’s what i got And in a twist of fate, Tales of Lostclan re-entered my brain space because The Creator Found My Post and contacted me about it and we started chatting and it was great so I drew a Pepperpaw gijinka and named him Aiden.

Another WIP I wanted to share was my sketch for another TOME server art challenge, with Zetto in the Zero Escape universe. I really liked the prompt but again, digitization was my enemy this year.

moving on!

These are literally the only two things that happened this month. And they were both pretty late in. Drawing Diluc is easy to explain; I love him and wanted to try and draw him. The other one is much more interesting.

My friend @mew-cake​ started reading To Your Eternity (which later on in the year became an anime), and I enjoyed the bits and pieces she liveblogged. She posted something along the lines of “i wish i could write a story like this” and i was like Hell Yes let’s do it together. So we got to work, making a story I tentatively call Spirit of the Earth about an angel wanting to learn what life on Earth is like so it lives first as a tree, then a bird, then a cat, and then a variety of different humans. My recent fascination with philosophy and the themes Cake found within To Your Eternity inspired us to think on lots of aspects of life and love and hurt, and it was kinda beautiful. We should revisit it sometime.

i lied kind of, i really wanted to get this picture of Xiao done too. but i did not. here is the sketch tho

and even though we were working on one original story, at the very end of the month, there was another idea coming together...

SURPRISE, IT’S A DIFFERENT ORIGINAL STORY. It’s okay, we didn’t expect this either, but it happened anyway.

Cake had been saying that it would be cool for the two of us to be cast as anime rivals, and I was like yeah that would be cool. And then I had the most massive shower thought on that and it spiraled into this story premise. As much as I would love to completely gush about this new story, I wanna still keep most of it under wraps, so I’ll give a basic rundown. The two main characters, the “anime rivals” as they were initially, are Roxy (red/sketch) and Lalun (blue/full color), who have the powers of the Sun and the Moon respectively. In a world full of alchemical magic where many people control elements based on the solar system, Roxy and Lalun are two special cases and they’re being forced to fulfill a cosmic destiny for reasons largely unknown to them. Other characters here include: Alex (purple/sketch) who has the powers of Venus, which in this world corresponds with electricity; and Oliver (green/full color) who has the powers of Saturn, which are oriented with gravity control and telekinesis. These kids all go to school together and get into horrible situations against their will (and even at their will, sometimes). So all in all, it’s a time :3

One day we’ll show off all of our art for this, but for now, I’ll just give ya all the good stuff I did.

ALSO. WIP TIME BECAUSE I AM SO UPSET I NEVER REMEMBERED TO FINISH THIS. I liveblogged about SK8 The Infinity around this time too, and I loved it, and I drew parallels between the two main characters of that show with my two main OCs from The Dark Side: War on Destiny. So I drew Reki and Kyle together being cool bros

okay anyway

My Genshin brainrot has started to fade around now and it’d been replaced with Cosmic Legacy brainrot instead. I just... we loved these kids so much, man. So much cool stuff. Lots of funny filler. A whole bunch of suffering. Y’know. The usual.

I’ll just say it now too that most of August just had a few more Cosmic sketches. Not very much was happening with me creatively, and things were starting to grind me down. And, well... eventually things took a turn, and...

UH WHOOPS I GOT A GIRLFRIEND AND HER NAME IS STACEY AKA @wolf-of-hearts-den​?????

Yeah, that also happened very suddenly. And we both had a lot of feelings to work out. It was a lot, and we couldn’t handle it very well - Stacey especially... considering the fact she had Two Partners now n all... but it all worked out. And all in all, it was an awesome moment, and a great turning point for me.

WIP time helps break up this part of the summary and i’m also pissed i couldn’t get this done in time because it was actually a timely piece. i started to do a 10  year anniversary redraw i’d been planning for Years and chickened out when it came to doing the background. so have this comparison with my Animal Jam OC Ferret for now

okay back to girlfriend um

this was honestly really tough to make hkjbbjlk Since our relationship started pretty late into the last month, our feelings spilled out more into the month after. And Boy Howdy, were there feelings. If I can be a little transparent, being able to freely express sexual feelings and thoughts with someone you trust is literally one of the most wonderful things. It’s just one more thing I don’t have to completely hide, and it feels awesome to be able to tell someone. And to have someone think of you and want you in that way? Absolutely insane. It still boggles my mind that someone can love me the way Stacey does. Honestly incredible.

also it’s not like i didn’t make any non-horny art during that time. they were just the only things i put effort into jklhjkl MOTIVATION HITS WHEN IT HITS, Y’ALL

this isn’t a WIP but it is more cosmic art i can share

ok back to the program. god the art summary is off the rails this year

Among some more girlfriend-related material, Stacey and Cake and I also had an aggie.io session where I drew some of my OCs poorly. Featured here are Sierra from Legends: Children of the Dragons, Mamoru from Cat Devil, and Val... from my brain. He’s just cool.

there was actually very little else than this, and that continued into...

Yeah, barely anything happened this month. The RW ref is only half-finished, and I had meant to get that done in August. But I gave it to someone to actually use as reference here, so it counts, okay?

Here we have an actually decent picture of another Cosmic Legacy character named Mercutio, who’s the not-so-good guy. But he does good things for people. He’s a good father... right?

and then Stacey came up with a game in a dream called Everbound and I had to make at least a mock-up title screen for it. Thank you for getting me to make an art to fill the screen up, babe

Thank God I got the inspiration to finally do that TWEWY self-insert pic only a few days ago, or else this would have been very empty. Additionally we have A Cool Character That Shall Not Be Explained on the right, whom I have added mainly because they are very cool and a piece of art that I completed in this month that I am proud of, as well as another Cool Character that I would be happy to explain about. So Stacey had recently been coming up with their own original story universe thing that’s essentially a radioactive wasteland full of animal mutants and hybrids. It’s mostly an excuse to make rad furry character designs, and I was all in on all of it, so I wanted to try and join in, so I made Calista! She’s a housecat/jellyfish hybrid with the ability to poison and shock people cuz that’s what jellyfish do. Haven’t done much with her, but she was a fun little character design challenge to do if nothing else :>

ANYWAY yeah this year sucked art-wise, but it was a good time regardless. I got a steady full-time job, I got car-driving abilities, and most importantly I have a lovely partner and wonderful friends to keep me sane and feel loved. No matter what happens in this year to come, all I know is I’ll make the most of it, and still find some things to make me happy.

...and maybe i’ll finally get some of those WIPs done OK BYE

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 10: Mari plots plotting

So long time no post. I live. Ish. Also finally figured out readmore on mobile, so yay. Will take forever to edit posts now though. Explanation at the bottom First part here previous part here. Ao3 here

Marinette wanted to go on record that Mandeliev did not, in fact, give her an extra day or so to study for the test. Why? Instead, she was told she may do a paper on the application of physics in gymnastics and principles of evasion in urban areas and how to combine the two to maximize one’s ability to run away from akumas and other dangers.

Or as Nino put it: “I am tormenting you into running better, the eight page essay.”

Alya dubbed it the “Run Better Paper.”

Aurore said it should include more formulas when Marinette showed her the draft. (as Adrien would complain about lack of theories and how she should have used this advanced formula she’d never heard of instead and then Marinette would have to forcibly stop him from taking over her paper. Again.)

Kim had taken to keeping her in his hoodie, escorting her to the bakery and didn’t leave her alone until Adrien said it was his “Marinette Anxiety Watch” shift.

Which she would like to go on record, is just plain mean to say. She has Liar 100% under control when world ending things and metaphorical bomb drops aren’t happening to her constantly.

—-

Bruce tried to contact Diana and Arthur again. Hal was off world, and therefore useless.

Why?

As his missing son hadn’t contacted them yet. Was still in the Miraculous team’s custody. And he saw the footage of Robin—Damian—being hunted by a lving shadow, an element casting swordswoman, and a strategist that seemed to know exactly what to do to keep Robin cornered in battle. The living shadows—Chat Noir—tried to kill his son with Cataclysm.

That was when they were in public, and had Hal watching over them.

He didn’t want to think about what the kids might do unsupervised to someone that tried to kill Ladybug, openly stalked her civilian self, and apparently tried stalk her again, in broad daylight. And possibly may have revealed her secret identity…

From the comments, it seemed that the Parisians hadn’t connected his sons aliases to the pair, writing it off as “Copy-cat Vigilantes” thankfully. And none of them were revealing more than “so the Fashion Disaster tried to go after Chat and Ryuko’s civvie… Not A Smart CopyBird” was the most he was able to get.

His children, on the other hand…

——

“I Fucking KNEW IT!” Tim yelled. “I knew it was her!”

“But,” Jason smirked. “You didn’t tell us.”

“Soup girl, baby bat!” Cass said gleefully.

“Wait, we both talked to her—and you didn’t say you thought it was her either Cass!”

“So what I’m hearing, if my ears don’t deceive me,” Jason continued. “Is that you all lost too.”

“What—“

“Wait a minute!”

“No way—”

Cass shrugged. She was the least invested in winning. She got to meet soup girl, who is very nice and her parents are safe for Baby Bat.

“We don’t have proof,” Dick pointed out. “Didn’t you say something about her being a mouse?”

“I—”

“Well—”

“Yes.” Cass cut through Tim and Stephanie’s waffling. “She is.”

Dick rubbed his forehead. “How many secrets can one kid have?”

“Five?” Jason said without much thought. “Limit is definitely five.”

—-

“Let me get this straight,” Miss Sting began, watching Ladybug very, very carefully. Rena and Carapace were busy that night and couldn’t act as the team’s Common Sense Filter in person. and texts only went so far.

So the job fell to Aurore. To talk (probably Marinette) Ladybug out of a Very, Stupendously, Inconceivably Bad Idea.

“You want to trust Robin—the kid who tried to kill you—to contact his mother—an assassin—to talk strategy about how to take down Hawkmoth’s civilian life’s business, not kill him, and trust that they won’t kill you?”

“…I’m bringing Chat with me.”

“Ladybug.”

“What, do you want me to use a Lucky Charm to prove this is our best bet?”

“You know what?” Miss Sting threw her hands up. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Fine.” Ladybug threw her yoyo skyward. “Lucky Charm!”

A red, spotted ball with an 8 on it came down.

“… you have got to be kidding me.”

Ladybug shrugged. “Uh, Magic Eightball, is it okay to trust Robin with this?”

One shake later and the floating die window read “Without a Doubt.”

“Give me that.” Miss Sting scowled, shaking as she asked. “Should she bring someone besides Chat and Robin—like someone from our team or Wonder Woman or Aquaman?”

The ball answered “Outlook not so good.”

Miss Sting glared at the magic eight ball. “I can’t believe this!”

Ladybug shrugged. “Lucky Charms are Lucky Charms—and I gotta go.”

Miss Sting checked her beeping spinning top. Someone was just akumatized.

“Re-charge first!” Miss Sting yelled before swinging ahead.

—-

“Oh, hey, when’s Demon Spawn going to contact us?” Jason asked as other bats calmed down.

“He’s not answering his communicator.” Bruce growled. “Hal took it earlier.”

The bats paused at that.

“Well then. Trackers?”

“Disabled—what? We didn’t need anyone crashing the apology and he ran off before I could stop him,” Dick defended. He is not Damian’s keeper. Just his Batman (as yes Bruce, he is Damian’s Batman and Damian is his Robin. Current masks not-withstanding).

“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Stephanie asked as the room grew uneasy.

No one answered that.

“How’s this,” Tim began. “Me, Steph and Cass agreed on who Hawkmoth probably is, each of us has a different set of evidence for it—and I’m counting breaking into his evil Liar and the cameras catching him mid-act a few minutes ago as absolute proof.”

“I’m sorry, you did what!” Stephanie leaned over Tim’s shoulder to see. “Oh shit. Isn’t that guy—”

“One of her friends? According to their private Instagram accounts, more like partner in crime and possible Chat Noir. I mean, he’s the one that calls her his “everyday Ladybug” and voices Chat Noir in everything." Tim answered idly. “My money’s on him not knowing at all.”

Bruce twitched. Then began to add ‘stalking social media feeds’ to his to-do list tonight.

“So,” Tim stepped forward. “I suggest we send this to the Wonder Woman and ask for Robin’s comm to be returned, and failing that, I bugged the video so anything they play it on, we get access to its IP and can find where they are.”

“Have Oracle go over the bug, just in case,” Bruce told them. “In the mean time, the rest of you suit up for the night. Gotham needs its vigilantes.”

—-

Marinette wanted to go on the record that her plan (to keep the bats away) was going well. Deciding what to do with Mu—R—Damian. Damian. Damian and his offer, was a challenge.

For obvious reasons, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and Aquaman were against her asking a bunch of assassins for their help. Chat has more than a few reservations. Carapace, Rena and Miss Sting gave her looks for that plan.

But.

But it would work. She needs more information on how to make the plan burning in the back of her mind work. It’s a lot of chaos (and she may thrive in chaotic battles but this wasn’t her usual battlefield, and her team didn’t know who they were going up against for once). And Marinette? She needs to know its not just her doing this when its so out of her depths.

So despite literally everyone and their disagreements she had Chat on her right side with Damian on her left, meeting up with his Crazy, Semi-Immortal mother. And possibly his Immortal, former Black Cat candidate, grandfather.

Why?

As Marinette isn’t trusting the likely cult that makes up the Gotham Ghost Gang (Batfam if you like them) when she can get real advice and vague directions to immortal and allied (loyal and terrifying) assassins.

And yes, she wasn’t sure if Liar was wrong or right when they said it was a bad idea too.

But fuckit she’s already got Kaalki at her shoulder, looking a bit bored at the deserted rooftop that Kaalki chose for their meeting.

“داميان*,” the woman smiled at her son. “It’s good to see you.”

“Mother,” Robin greeted. “This is Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug wished to speak to you about potential strategies to take down an enemy outside of battle without violence,” Damian stressed.

“I am well-aware of the Kwami and their Chosen, اِبْن.**” The woman spoke calmly. “The League of Assassins formed to act as the Black Cat to restore the world to balance and un-burden the Order with its maintenance.” The woman offer Ladybug her hand. “I am Talia al Ghul, and I am at your service, with or without violence Ladybug.”

Marinette took her hand. “Thank you Talia. Our target being directly exposed like I planned would have…” Ladybug trailed off, thinking over the ramifications not only to Adrien, but to the whole of Gabriel’s brand, workers and all that worked with them. “Some intense ramifications I’d rather avoid.”

Talia nodded her head, waiting for more information.

“I believe its possible to topple them without affecting their employees by uncoupling them from their business, but doing so is, well, stocks and economics isn’t my strongest point.” Ladybug admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I would suggest,” Talia began, “to create a bit of chaos in the stock market. Perhaps a rumor here and there, let investors pull out and grab the abandoned stocks quickly. Consolidate them under one owner and become the company’s owner.”

Marinette twitched a bit at that. “That… sounds complicated.”

“Oh, but it isn’t. My son knows just how to that, or did you forget our lessons?” Talia asked coolly.

Damian twitched at Marinette’s side. “I did not.”

“You know,” Chat chimed in. “I do know a few things about those things. If its general chaos, well…” Chat’s face twisted in a way Marinette forgot he could do after that Chat Blanc episode.

“… I will take that into consideration.”

“Anything else?” Talia asked, watching Ladybug and her son. Specifically, how her son seemed glued to the girl’s side. “I am certain my son is able to take out your target, if all else fails.”

Damian scowled at Marinette’s side.

“However, I do believe that whatever is happening, whatever has you active, might require a more… experience hand.”

Damian brushed against her side. Code for ‘Possible Danger.’

“Thank you for the offer,” Chat moved in front of Marinette. “But mi’lady and the Guardians have that much handled.”

Talia’s eyes shifted from Chat to Ladybug, staying on her. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I merely needed more information on how to execute this type of plan, that’s all!” Ladybug almost, almost slipped into Marinette while Liar, while silenced for the moment, prodded the back of her mind. “I want to minimize collateral damage as much as I can, to everyone. The kwami already said they get to chose the target’s punishment.”

“Ah, I see.” Talia relaxed then. “You are following the kwami’s wishes. I will respect their wishes as well, Chosen.”

Marinette categorized this interaction as one of the “not too horrible, but will avoid a repeat” once they left.

—

*Damian in arabic

**son

so we have Talia now as a Player, sort of. she plays by her word pretty well so hopefully its a cameo more than anything else.

any ideas on how JL will handle the video, and if Miraculous Team should see it and freak out or only LB and keep on the dl while JL assissts in her Chaos Plot?

End of update. Will have to repost from ao3 on my phone now as desktop tumblr is being exceptionally rude. Tags always open, just takes me a bit to do—sorry to vixen for vanishing from tags

TAGS:  @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang @dreamykitty25 @emu-lumberjack @vixen-uchiha

[whetstonefires]

Do you think the DC fandom maybe, Infantilizes Tim a little too much? Like for a rich kid character who's main trauma for a long time was a getting left home alone too much there's an oddly amount of meta abt how much how much his parents hurt him~ compared to, y'know the two poor characters who grew up with physically abusive dad's+druggie mom's, or the two that were raised assassin cult's, etc

…well, yeah, I do kind of think that? His whole schtick for so long was being too old for his age in ways that didn’t sacrifice his jokey, relatable teenager energies. It’s weird how little of that we see anymore, sometimes.

And then DC broke him and discarded him and he’s sort of awkwardly hanging around getting reimagined as more woobie with every fan generation. It is weird!

But tbh I do get it. And I think the reason his parents’ failure of him and his vulnerability get played up so much, and Jason and Steph’s sufferings (while used a lot for things like motivation and context) not dwelt on quite so much in the same lugubrious style, are kind of the same reason.

Which is that canon didn’t commit to it. Jason and Steph’s experiences with bad parenting were foregrounded and retconned more dramatically awful several times. (There’s some definite classism in how that was approached imo, and I’m never budging on being mad about DC retconning out Catherine being sick and then ignoring her forever in all Jason characterization because a drug death invalidates a person ig, great message during the opioid crisis guys.)

They engaged and coped with it–Steph (and Cass, our #1 canon batfam parental abuse victim) pretty directly, Jason a little less so because of the dubious and fluctuating canon status of most of the content more specific than ‘poverty, homelessness, theft, parental drugs and crime in there somewhere,’ so most of his parent issues have been focused on Bruce. He sure has dug into them tho. 😂 Rarely well or productively, thanks DC, but it’s explicitly part of his character, is my point.

Whereas upper-middle-class Tim was always treated by the narrative as fortunate and unharmed by his experiences with his parents. Even though they were clearly behaving badly in several ways, and Tim showed signs of being harmed by it.

Tim outside of immediate moments of frustration always was of the opinion he was Fine, and Very Fortunate Actually.

Therefore a huge chunk of the numerous everyone who’s got parent-related mental and emotional harm, but has struggled to have that validated and hasn’t responded with a lot of anger toward the parent, identifies with Tim. The only one who’s never really lashed out at his parents for fucking up with him. The one who still needs it explored, because canon ultimately didn’t.

[editing post to put in a readmore because lol it’s long, post otherwise unchanged]

(Dick obviously didn’t ever have any Issues with the Graysons, but he Angry Teenagered at Bruce so hard it changed Bruce’s characterization permanently, rip.)

The things Jason, Steph, and Cass have been through are dramatic, obvious, and fit stereotypes because that’s what they’re based on.

That’s important content to have, but because it’s right out there in your face even people who identify with it quite a lot are less likely to feel the need to work all the way through it again in fanworks. That part’s there. It’s text.

(Well actually Jason having been physically abused kind of wasn’t? I think? It was mostly assumed on the basis of stereotyping and Jason’s not caring about the man much even as he felt possessive of information about his death, which is valid. I don’t actually know what’s up with Willis now, Lobdell did some weird shit that lacked emotional resonance or staying power because he’s Lobdell and has no soul.

Cass’ wandering years are also ludicrously underdeveloped. But very very few comics fans or writers can personally relate to being amazing child warriors with no grasp of language living feral under bridges. That part of her life is consistently represented in terms of absences, in terms of its deviation from the norm and the deficits of normality it left her with, which is typical but unfortunate.) 

-

The interesting things to do with these characters are often informed by the bad stuff in their childhoods, but there’s relatively rarely that much more to say about the fact that those things were bad. They know they’re bad. They’ve had a lot of on-panel rage about it, as discussed above. Steph and Cass both beat the shit out of their dads.

Jason is, in fandom especially, a sort of Platonic ideal of a kid who’s mad about his bad childhood and really bad at figuring out where to point that rage.

(Damian is a whole other kettle of fish, because he’s been lumbered by so many detailed retcons coming so fast no two people can seem to construct compatible models of what his early childhood was like, and even more because he’s still ‘a child’ enough that he’s necessarily in a different stage of processing than someone who’s officially only a few years older than him at this point, but still functionally 8 and also 20 years older, and whose parents are no longer in the picture to continue screwing up.

Also there’s no question that if he brings up an abusive thing the League did, he will be validated by his current environment about his realization that it was in fact bad. There’s a lot of fic on that theme! But it doesn’t have the same tone precisely because it is usually understood that that support will be there if he wants it. Realizing that his previous context contained things that were wrong keeps being made the focus of his arc.)

The badness of Tim’s childhood, on the other hand, was mainly in subtext. Even when we were clearly meant to understand Jack was fucking up, like when he canceled plans with Tim at the last minute to go on a date with Tim’s stepmother, or that infamous time he came to apologize for not being a great parent and got mad Tim was distracted by a crisis on TV so he flew into a rage and took the TV and smashed it and was like ‘that’ll teach you,’ it wasn’t leaned into.

The story didn’t treat Jack as a minor villain to be overcome but like a sort of environmental hazard of childhood, like homework, to be endured and coped with. Tim said things like ‘it’s fine’ and ‘at least he left the computer.’

(And like. It’s not about having a TV and computer in his room. It’s about not letting a child have boundaries, pointedly not respecting a child’s possessions, creating an emotionally insecure environment, punishing minor infractions in proportion to their momentary impact on your own ego, physically lashing out at a proxy for the child…)

Rather like Tom King later didn’t understand about the punching from Bruce, whoever did that story (probably Dixon? I don’t care enough to check) did not understand how serious a case of bad parenting that scene was. That is most definitely textbook abusive behavior. (It’s a hell of a lot more common abusive behavior than being a lame supervillain or shooting you when you screw up, and a lot more specific than ‘was a thug, might have hit me, dead now.’)

And Tim was never allowed to be mad at his parents about it. It was fine. He needed to be ignored so he had the freedom to be Robin. He deserved his dad being mad at him because he was keeping secrets. He complained too much, although objectively he did not.

The universe punished him for ‘complaining,’ more than once. We cut straight from him shunting aside his disappointment that his postcard from his parents was just to say they weren’t coming home yet after all with ‘if it will stop all the fights they’ve been having lately it’s more than fine’ to them getting kidnapped.

He agreed not to come on the rescue mission. His mom never made it home, and his dad was in a coma for a while. And then ultimately Jack died as a result of Tim’s decision to be Robin, immediately after finally deciding to accept it.

So Tim walks around feeling a huge burden of responsibility for his parents’ deaths, and completely unable to process any hurt they did him as real or valid, especially in comparison with the far more blatant awfulness other people have been through, and canon is clearly never going to address it. Or even acknowledge it properly.

Let me repeat that because it’s kind of my main point:

People are fixated on getting Tim’s emotional abuse validated because that’s an incredibly important step in recovering from emotional abuse, and it’s one canon consistently denied him.

How ‘bad’ things are ‘in comparison to’ problems other people have is a bad and unhealthy way to engage with trauma. Okay? That’s just a really harmful framework to apply to pain.

It’s also a way that both Tim and people with experiences similar to Tim’s are encouraged to engage with their own experiences, compounding the existing problems.

So. Not a form of relatable DC was ever actually aiming for when they tried so hard (and pretty effectively) to make him a relatable character as Robin, but an enduring one for a lot of fans.

-

So Tim’s childhood is a natural target for fanworks in a different way than the traumas that have been made explicit and taken seriously by the text. And then a lot of that got compounded by the way the introduction of Damian as Robin was handled, and the lack of resolution that got. And his current status as not quite having a place in the family anymore.

So between the level of projection encouraged by that context and how relatively difficult to access Tim’s Robin run has become ten years after the fact, this has led to a lot of fanworks on these themes that are based mostly on other fanworks, and stray further and further from the original content.

So at this point there’s an entire wing of Tim’s fandom wherein this side of him has expanded enormously, and he primarily exists to suffer, frequently in ways that 1) escalate to a point that is inarguably ‘valid’ and hard to dismiss and 2) set him up to rebound from it in whatever way the writer finds emotionally satisfying or useful–being ultimately cared for and reassured by people who value him (the most infantilizing option but like, popular for obvious reasons), or unveiling his brilliant scheme that was causing him to pretend to be passive in the face of mistreatment, or turning around and using his genius ninja skills to wrest power back from his abusers, or just laying down some sick burns about being treated fairly.

But not that many of the last one, because that’s mostly done with other batfam members.

Tim’s become a vehicle for a lot of vicarious coping that Steph and Jason just aren’t appropriate for, because they get angry and they get even. And those are stories that exist already, so there’s less scope for telling your own.

And because Jason’s reaction pattern is ultimately so masculine (i’ll make them all sorry! with my guns! blam blam!) while Tim’s is pretty gender-neutral, the demographics of fanfic mean that the bulk of the people using Tim vicariously in this manner are female-aligned, which has over time feminized this archetype of him a lot. Sometimes in ways I find really uncomfortable, like there’s a lot of forced pregnancy stuff which activates my panic buttons. x.x

But, ultimately, it’s fandom. People are going to do what they’re going to do, DC in their perpetual fail has hung Tim out to dry in narrative terms, and I’d rather the people who are using Tim for victimization narratives over the people who can’t dismiss or discredit him fast enough now that his position has been filled. 🤷‍♀️ What we gonna do? Fave’s in an awkward spot. DC hates us. This is the life in this comic book pit. XD

-

Also if you’re the same anon who left me a callout about op of that weird Steph post in my inbox, or if you aren’t @ that person, 1) I refuse to get involved so I’m not answering that ask 2) those aren’t even particularly dramatic fandom crimes? That’s pretty normal? That’s just…Caring Too Much About Ships And Disagreeing With Me.

Do I also feel those opinions are kinda bad? Yeah. But I disagree with everyone about something. Chill.

[darks-ink]

Play Your Part 5

Chapter 5: Not Only Will I Soar Again

I am Very Boldly posting this chapter with linebreaks and readmores and praying it doesn’t turn out like the last one. And if it does, well... Tumblr let me edit back the readmore today so it won’t be messed up forever, anyway.

[first] [previous] [next] [AO3] [FFnet]

Danny’s eyes watered as he reached out. One hand, shaky with emotion, made contact with the picture. Ultimate proof that it was… that this was real.

“Is-- Is that--”

“A ghost core?” Tucker grinned wider. “That’s exactly what it is, yeah.”

“But then…” Danny frowned, one hand still on the core on the photo, the other reaching for his chest. “Why isn’t it… working, then? If I have the core, why don’t I have the powers?”

“Well, we can’t know for sure, of course, but…” Jazz placed one finger on the photograph as well, tapping the core. “This isn’t an active ghost core. We have pictures of Danny’s, and of a few regular ghosts, and this one looks even less active than Danny’s when he’s in human form.”

“Oh.” One hand still rested on his chest, as if he could feel the core’s hum now that he knew it existed. “How? Why?”

“We already figured that you lost your powers because you purged your ectoplasmic contamination, right?” Jazz shrugged, gently pulling the photograph out of his hand. “In doing so you must’ve run your core out of ectoplasm, forcing it into some sort of hibernation. I think, if we can carefully feed it ectoplasm again, that it might activate again.”

“And that’ll get me my powers again?” Danny brightened up slightly, hope unfurling in his chest. It sounded… it all sounded very possible. Would it just be that easy?

“Well, probably. Like I said, we can’t know until we try.” Jazz sighed, placing the photo on the table Danny was sitting on. “At least I know a good way to get you ectoplasm in a somewhat safe manner.”

“Oh lord, Jazz, you want him to eat--” Tucker made a disgusted face, pretending to vomit. It wasn’t very encouraging, to be honest.

“Oh grow up.” She shoved the boy, turning to Sam, who looked far more steady. “Sam, can you go fetch some of the leftovers in the fridge? You know how to recognize the right ones, yeah?”

“If they try to bite me they’re good.” Sam nodded, turning around like she hadn’t just said that food might actively attack her, hello? What the hell was going on here?

Danny cleared his throat, drawing Jazz’ attention back to him. “What’s, uh. What this ‘safe manner’ of ectoplasm consumption?”

“Well, it’s.” She blushed, twirling a strand of hair as she tried to find the right words. “Uh, you know how in this universe, our parents are ghost hunters?”

“Uh huh,” he said, slowly.

“And ghosts are made out of ectoplasm. Which means that for their inventions, they do a lot of experiments with said ectoplasm, including ways to use this to make food faster?”

“Oh.” He still didn’t understand where she was going with this.

Jazz opened her mouth to explain further, but a strange hissing sounded by the stairs, and Danny twisted to look at that instead. Sam was coming down, her arms full of various plastic containers, some of which were duct-taped shut.

“Got the leftovers you asked for. Is the malevolence directly related to how heavily contaminated they are?”

“I think so.” Jazz shrugged, releasing her hair. “Not sure. Mom and Dad never really looked into it much.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Danny waved his hands around, drawing the attention of everyone else back to him. He ignored the jostling of the plastic bins for the moment. “You want me to eat… contaminated food? Living food?”

“Well, it’s not living, technically.” Jazz wiggled her hand a little, making a so-so motion. “They’re kind of… reanimated, I guess? We’re starting off slow, with the stuff that just glows. Anything that moves we’ll re-cook first.”

“Like the weenies,” Tucker added helpfully, taking one especially violent container from Sam. The duct-tape on it seemed to strain to hold it closed, and through the plastic Danny could see sausage-like shapes bouncing around. “These are definitely some of the worst in the fridge.”

“Yeah, and the fact that they’ve been in there for months hasn’t helped.” Sam shook her head, moving over to the table to put down the other stuff. “Anyway, don’t worry about it, Danny. Our Danny can eat this stuff just fine, and so can any ordinary ghost. We’re not giving it to you until we’re sure you’ve got enough ghost in you to do the same.”

“Oh. Um.” He looked at the boxes that now shifted over the table, driven by the force of their contents. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t thank us until it works, man.” Tucker placed his one container on the table as well. When it immediately threatened to throw itself off again, he placed a heavy-looking invention on top of it. “Seriously, if we make you eat this stuff and it doesn’t work you’ll hate us.”

“Tucker, stop discouraging him,” Jazz scolded, picking up one of the containers that lacked duct-tape. “Danny, it’ll be fine. Mom and Dad and I have eaten this stuff on multiple occasions, and you’re supposed to have this stuff in your body. Do you really think I would be giving this to you if I thought it would be a problem?”

“No,” he said, “but this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried feeding me something weird as a big sister prank.”

Jazz made a face, then nodded. “Ah, I guess that that’s fair.” She opened one box, showing its contents to him. “How do you feel about starting with these mildly glowing carrots?”

Bad, he wanted to say.

“I guess they’re… okay?” he said instead, taking the bin from her. They did, indeed, look like regular carrots. Y’know, if carrots came in ecto-green and glowed. “Do I… have to?”

“You can try the Portal too, if you prefer that,” Sam suggested, leaning against the table. “Get it over with in one quick swoop.”

Danny made a face, then shoved one baby carrot into his mouth. The moment he bit down he pulled a face. It tasted like what he imaged raw ectoplasm might taste like; copper and rusted pennies and something like lemons? Except it still had a mild taste of carrot, and its texture was mostly carrot-like. Mostly, because it was just a little goopy on the inside.

He slapped his free hand over his mouth, trying to push away his desire to puke. Come on Danny, just bite through it!

Swallowing, he made another grimacing face at the others.

“Ah, come on, they’re not that bad.” Jazz clicked her tongue, shaking her head disapprovingly. “How is it that you guys in the halfa-universe are less used to eating ectoplasm infused food, huh? Am I the only one wondering about that?”

“No, I was too,” Sam admitted, looking far too amused for Danny’s liking. “And I bet our Danny is, too. He’ll definitely be enjoying the break where he doesn’t have to worry about his lunch coming to life.”

Danny sighed, placing the carrots down again. “Can I try something else? Maybe that’ll be better.”

Tucker snorted disbelievingly, but to his credit, did push one of the other boxes towards Danny. “Here, I think this one is just glowing toast.”

“Ugh, toast.” He pulled off the lid, revealing, indeed, several slices of ecto-green toast. “Well, can’t be worse than regular toast, right?”

He took a bite of one of the slices. Wow, hey, that’s actually worse than regular toast, who would’ve thought? Again that taste of copper and lemons and sour metal, although the inside wasn’t quite as soft as with the carrots. Just felt like untoasted bread instead of goop.

“Well?” Tucker asked, a grin on his face again. “Better or worse?”

“Better than the carrots,” Danny said as he swallowed the bite. “And honestly? Not much worse than regular toast.”

“You want jam or something with that?” Sam asked, turning one of the slices in her hand as she looked it over. “That might mask the taste a little.”

“Hm, maybe.” He took another bite, trying to chew it away quickly. “Egh, yeah, let’s give that a shot if you’ve got some.”

“I’ll go look,” Jazz said, ruffling his hair as she passed him by. “Sam, Tucker, stay out of trouble.”

“Trouble?” Tucker gasped dramatically. “We would never!”

Danny shot him an unimpressed look as he chewed away another bite of sour toast. “You two literally tried to zap me with a giant ghost portal while she was away.”

“Don’t get involved, Fenton.” Tucker swung a finger in his direction. “Eat your toast and shut up.”

“Yes sir.” He took another bite of the toast. Against all expectations, he was actually kind of getting used to the taste of ectoplasm-infused food. It felt kind of warm in his throat, like it was melting as he chewed it away.

He’d finished his first slice of toast when Jazz reappeared downstairs, carrying a few types of jam and some margarine. “Wasn’t sure what would go best with, uh, ectoplasm,” she said, blushing a little. “What do you want to try first?”

“Margarine, I guess?” He shrugged, picking up a new slice of toast to butter it. “I think I just had to get used to the toast, anyway. It’s not too bad anymore. Kind of nice, actually? Warm and melty.”

Jazz frowned, sharing a glance with Sam and Tucker. “Warm? Ectoplasm is cold and goopy, usually.”

“Oh.” Danny took a bite of his still-unbuttered toast, tasting it carefully. “No, it definitely tastes warm. Like, pleasant warm, like honey?”

“Maybe that’s what it tastes like for half-ghosts?” Tucker suggested, his brow creased in consideration. “They are made out of the stuff, so of course it wouldn’t feel cold to them.”

“Does that mean it’s working?” Danny asked as he started buttering the toast. The taste of lemon and metal hadn’t gone away entirely, and he wasn’t too hot on it still. “If I just keep eating enough toast, that’ll fix my core? It’s really just that easy?”

“I mean, you’ll probably have to move on to something stronger eventually.” Sam tapped on one of the taped boxes, ignoring the way it jerked in response. “Danny has a lot of ectoplasm in his body, usually. If you want to recover all of that in a short time, you’ll need to eat more ectoplasm and less actual food. There’s only so much food you can eat before you’re full, after all.”

“Right.” He took a bite of buttered toast. Not bad, actually. The butter definitely offset the sourness, even if wasn’t entirely functional against the taste of copper. “So when should I switch, if the higher amounts could be dangerous?”

“Finish off all the toast first, then we’ll see.” Jazz looked distastefully at the weenie-container, which seemed to be trying to throw off the heavy weight that pinned it down. “Honestly, we might try roasting the weenies. They’re definitely the highest in ectoplasm to food ratio, and they won’t fill much either way.”

Danny eyed the box suspiciously. Then, rather than speak up about the fact that these hot dogs might just be the most dangerous thing in the lab, he took another bite of toast.

“We, uh, should probably get them roasting sooner than later, then.” Tucker leaned down next to the box, his frown deepening. “I think that they’re trying to chew through the plastic.”

“Do you think the Thermos would work on them?” Sam asked, her tone light as if this was perfectly normal. “Or are they not ghostly enough?”

“That might just suck out all the ectoplasm and leave behind the weenies.” Jazz sighed, stepping away to dig through some equipment. “If they break out, just trap them in something metal. Or, like, trap them in a box with something else and let that distract them. I’ll look for something moderately safe to cook them with.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tucker declared cheerfully, frown gone again. He picked up a larger plastic bin, opening it and peeking inside. “Ah, non-sentient ham. That should keep them occupied if they break out.”

Sam sighed and shook her head, but didn’t comment. Danny shoved another piece of toast inside his mouth. If she didn’t want to comment, neither did he.

But, really. How was this world so much crazier than his own world? Is this what their planet would be like if it was ruled by humans instead of half-ghosts? Crazy. Maybe they really were still out there somewhere, surviving unseen thanks to their sheer insanity.

“Well, so, most of the stuff I found I wouldn’t trust around food,” Jazz said plainly as she rejoined them. In one hand she held a metal pot, the inside stained a suspicious mix of green and black. The other, she held behind her back. “I wouldn’t worry about the ectoplasm on this, except that it seems to be burned to hell and back, and I don’t think the charcoal will be any good. And I don’t trust the bunsen burners with this, either.”

She placed the burned pan on a nearby table, then swung the object in her other hand around to her front, using her other hand to hold it up as well. It looked like a weapon, but not any Danny was familiar with. Sci-fi esque, silver with glowing green accents. Round and shiny, like a cylinder with another cylinder on top. This, at least, looked kind of like the water containers on a water gun. The vivid green really just kind of reinforced this appearance.

“I don’t think I’m familiar with that one.” Sam stepped closer, twisting her head to look at the weapon. “What is it? A flamethrower?”

“Yep,” she simply said, placing it in Sam’s arms. “Here you go, I’m pretty sure you’re the best shot of all of us.”

“Tuck’s pretty good too, and you’re not too shabby either.” But as she said this, Sam shifted the flamethrower in her arms, gripping it properly. She grinned like she was absolutely loving this. God, humans were scary. Danny was faintly sorry that he had ever felt lesser for thinking he was human if they were all like this.

Rather than get involved, he took another bite of toast and jumped off of the table. He could watch the proceedings from somewhere further away, he was sure.

Tucker lifted the machine off of the bin that contained the hot dogs, pinning the box down with his own strength instead. “I’ll count down and then dump them on the table. Got it?”

Sam, grin widening, nodded. “Got it.” She turned to gun onto Tucker, holding it steady with one finger already on the trigger. “On 3?”

“I was thinking on fire, actually.” Tucker nodded back, licked his lips, then started counting. “3. 2.”

“1,” the both of them counted in sync, muscles bunching as they got ready.

“Fire!” Tucker shouted, peeling the container open and spilling the contents onto the table, then stepping back in the same swift motion.

The hot dogs seemed thrown off by the sudden movement, sitting dazedly on the metal tabletop a long moment. They were ecto-green, glowing, and they seemed to have… eyes and pointed teeth? Yikes.

On the shout Sam had pulled the trigger, and bright flames spilled from the gun. Despite his expectations, they weren’t pure green; pink was scattered throughout the flames, and the inner column was white-hot.

The reanimated meat screeched when the flames reached them, but they were quickly silenced under the steady fire.

An unmeasurably long moment later, Sam cut off the flames. Jazz stepped forward to inspect the results, expression carefully blank. Then she smiled, expression lighting up. “Looks good to me! I think we can finally put the Frankenweenies to use.”

“Frankenweenies?” Danny repeated incredulously, swallowing his last bite of toast. “Really?”

Jazz hummed. When she turned back to him, she was holding one of the hot dogs pinched between her fingers. The flames hadn’t lessened its glow, but they had turned it into a darker green. The eyes and mouth seemed to have somehow disappeared entirely. “What do you think? Does it look appealing?”

“No,” Danny said honestly, taking it from her. “But neither did the toast.”

He took a bite, chewing it experimentally. The skin was like… not like a hot dog, but more like a regular sausage? Somewhat tough, a little chewy, but not in a bad way. The inside was soft and warm and gooey, and actually kinda sweet. Like it was filled with honey.

“That’s… pretty good, actually,” he said when he swallowed it. “I mean, I don’t think it beats actual food, especially since the green is a real deterrent, but…”

“What, the glow is fine with you?” Sam scoffed, but the smile on her face didn’t leave. “Priorities, Danny.”

“Eh, the glow isn’t too out of place where I’m from.” Danny shrugged, taking another bite of the hot dog and swallowing it. “With all the half-ghosts and stuff. My parents, especially Mom, they use telekinesis pretty often, so stuff often glows in and around the house.”

“That’s fair,” Sam decided, nodding approvingly. Her fingers drummed on the barrel of the flamethrower. “Hey Jazz, do you want this thing back or can I keep it?”

“If you get in trouble for having it I’m not taking responsibility.” Jazz crossed her arms, twisting to look at Sam. “My parents will just blame its disappearance on a ghost anyway.”

“Nice.” Sam flipped a switch on the side, and the glowing elements dulled down. A safety switch, then. “I’ll find a spot for it, don’t worry.”

“I’m not,” Jazz said, just as Danny hiccuped. Loudly.

“Sorry,” he apologized, hiccuping again. Something in his chest rattled strangely. “I think something didn’t go down right.”

He clenched his eyes closed, dropping the half-eaten sausage back on the table. His other hand came up to claw at his chest. Something felt wrong, it hurt, it hurt--

Another hiccup, following with a thrum in his chest. He opened his eyes again, staring wide-eyed at his friends, his sister, hoping for some sort of help or advice or--

“Look!” Jazz exclaimed, enthusiastically. “See, I told you it would be fine!”

“Fine?!” Danny bit back, his voice peaking up high as a hiccup burst through the last half of the word.

“Well, yeah, obviously.” Jazz gestured at him like it was an explanation. “See, and your eyes brightened even further. Must be your core.”

Tucker frowned, looking a little concerned. “Are you alright, dude? Besides the hiccuping, obviously.”

Danny groaned back, his fingers digging into his chest even more. His core? Was that what this was? Why did it-- “Why does it hurt?”

“It’s not… supposed to.” Jazz darted closer, suddenly, kneeling a little to look at his face. She pried his hand off of his chest, placing her own there instead. “Maybe it’s because it was out of energy for so long? Like when you boot up a machine after it’s been off for really long, and it sounds like it’s struggling to get functional again?”

“Or like when your muscles hurt way more if you haven’t been active in a while?” Sam suggested, tone not as jubilant anymore. “That could be it, yeah. Should we hold off and give it time to work through it, or should we try feeding it more energy?”

“I don’t know,” Jazz said, slowly. “Danny, do you think you could eat?”

“Dunno.” He huffed, feeling faintly breathless. It felt like something was burrowing in his chest, trying to shove all his organs aside to make room for itself. “Maybe.”

“Alright, that’s a no in Danny-speak.” Jazz took him by the arm, gently tugging him towards a table. “Sit down, tell us if it gets worse.”

He nodded, letting her shove him onto the table. He tried clawing at his chest again, but Jazz swatted his hand away and he gave up.

It was hard for him to tell how much time passed. For most of it, he had his eyes closed, focusing exclusively on the feeling in his chest. As the pain receded, he started to feel his core more clearly. It was pulsing, thrilling and humming in his chest. Like a heart, but also… not? It was clearly trying to drag in energy, awake but not… not satisfied, he didn’t think.

Once it felt as stable as it would get, he opened his eyes again, looking at his best friends as his sister. “It, uh. I think it’s done. But I don’t think that it has all the power it needs, still.”

Jazz nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Didn’t think so. But we got it enough energy to wake up, so if it’s functional we can try feeding ectoplasm straight to your ghost form.” She started, looking at him somewhat guiltily. “If you’re okay with that, of course.”

“I mean… sure? Assuming that I can shift right now.” He shrugged, then settled one hand on the back of his neck to rub it.

“Do your parents have some of that Ecto-Dejecto still?” Sam asked, turning towards Jazz. “Danny uses it sometimes when he’s really really out of energy, but I think he stockpiles it all in his walls.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea.” Jazz perked up, gesturing at one of the nearby drawers. “I think they have some in there?”

Sam hummed, moving to search it. “Worst come to worst, we can try having Danny search through his own walls. If, uh, he can maintain that kind of intangibility, that is.”

He made a face, not that she could see. “Yeah, let’s not risk that.”

“Oh, wait, here it is already.” Sam straightened up, a tube of unnaturally bright ectoplasm in her hand. “We just need a needle, and for Danny to shift into his ghost form.”

“At least we won’t have to fight with his sleeve this time,” Tucker joked, nudging Danny. “Did you know how much of a hassle that is, to roll up the sleeves of those jumpsuits? Absolutely awful.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind?” He tried mentally poking his core. How were you supposed to shift to your ghost form, anyway? He thought he was doing it right, but he had no way of knowing whether he was doing it wrong, or if his core just didn’t have enough energy. “When should I shift?”

“Now’s fine,” Sam said, reappearing with a worryingly large syringe. It was filled with the same fake ectoplasm as the vial before. The ‘Ecto-Dejecto’, presumably. “We’re ready if you are.”

“Oh, joy,” he muttered, stirring his core more forcibly. He tried to encourage it, tried to picture himself as the photos he’d seen of Phantom. Tried to goad it with the lure of more energy.

Then, suddenly, it was like lightning crackled through him. Pure energy burst forth, sparking through his flesh and his skin but not hurting him. It formed a ring, bright and luminescent, and Danny felt like he could cry.

As with everyone else, with every shift he’d ever witnessed, the ring split into two. Twin halos of pure light danced over his body, inverting the colors everywhere they passed, until he was left in his black shirt and with white hair hanging down in his eyes.

“Arm,” Sam immediately commanded, like she hadn’t just witnessed something incredible and life-changing. When he didn’t respond, Jazz grabbed it and pulled it towards Sam for him.

He was so occupied with, well, everything, that he didn’t even notice the needle until its contents were being pushed into his body. It wasn’t even cold, not really. Just… weird? Very energetic. His core thrilled, immediately pulling in the energy provided.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, feeling the pulse of power throughout his entire body. His core hummed so loud that he wondered if everyone else could hear it, too, like the purr of a cat. “That’s… holy shit.”

“Sounds like it worked,” Tucker commented dryly, not even bothering to hide his smile. “Feeling good, ghost boy?”

“Yeah,” he answered, breathlessly. “Yeah, wow. It’s like… Like this weight in my chest is gone, suddenly. Like I’ve been dragging around my core this whole time, like a ball and chain, and finally I’m free.”

“How poetic.” Sam grinned, nudging him playfully. “Want to take your powers for a spin?”

“In the lab?” he asked, already pushing off of the table. “Are you sure?”

“We train Danny’s powers here all the time,” Tucker said dismissively, flapping a hand. “And it’ll be safer here than outside.”

“Fair enough.” He bounced a little on the ground, feeling lighter than usual. He wondered how floating worked. Didn’t it come naturally to--

“Oh.” He flipped in the air, maneuvering like he’s been doing it his whole life. “Wow, that’s really fun. Now I get why everyone’s always flying everywhere.”

“I guess I should’ve seen that coming.” Jazz grinned at him. “Danny’s favorite power is flight, too.”

“I can’t blame him!” Danny exclaimed, flying a lap at moderate speed through the lab. “It’s so much fun!”

“Alright, well, let’s run through a few more powers. Hopefully establishing that your powers work will trigger the switch back.”

“Yeah,” Danny hummed, feeling his core pulse with happiness at the thought of showing his parents his powers, before a spike of dread stabbed through it. “Unless your Danny has something he needs to achieve, too.”

Danny’s eyes watered as he reached out. One hand, shaky with emotion, wrapped around his mother’s wrist. “Wait.”

“Yes, sweetie?” She crouched down in front of him, smiling softly. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t.”

“Can’t what, kiddo?” His dad frowned as he, too, crouched by Danny.

“I…” He groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re all so nice.”

“Of course they are,” Jazz said, voice carefully blank. “They’re our parents. When have they ever not been nice?”

“That’s complicated,” he muttered back through his fingers. They’d never meant to be mean towards him, of course, but… but they’d uttered plenty of insults and threats towards Phantom. And that was… it was just hard to ignore, especially when faced with such complete and utter acceptance.

A silence fell, and Danny got the feeling that his parents and sister were sharing confused glances.

“What do you mean, son?” his dad finally asked, uncertainly. “We’ve always tried…”

I know.” He dragged his hands off of his face to shoot them a look that hopefully expressed how lost he felt. “You’ve been nothing but nice, I know. But you’re not-- I am not--” He groaned again, now in frustration at himself and his trouble to put his feelings into words.

Jazz narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you Danny?”

“Is he what?” his mom asked, at the same time that he shook his head. While she snapped her jaw shut, he corrected himself by nodding, then made a so-so motion with his hand.

“I’m Danny Fenton,” he finally said, giving up on his attempt at miming out an answer. “But I’m not… your Danny.”

“Oh,” both of his parents chimed, perfectly synced.

“Yeah.” He dragged a hand through his eyes, wiping away the half-formed tears. “I’m… yeah. It’s, um. Complicated, I guess.”

“How?” His mom reached for him, twisting his head like she could suddenly see differences that didn’t exist before. “Why? What happened to our Danny?”

“I… I don’t know. I really really don’t know,” he admitted, much as it pained him. “I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t understand it. Usually if I get brought to a different timeline I’m told why, what I’m supposed to do. Not…” he gestured vaguely. “Not this.”

“And our son?” his mom repeated. “What about him?”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Danny dragged his hand through his hair, mussing the black locks up beyond their normal mess. “Sam and Tucker and Jazz will take care of him. They’re good at that kinda stuff. They’ll catch on quickly, I bet.”

“That’s good.” His mom – this version of her – patted him on the arm. Her expression was hard to read, though. “Now, what was this about your parents, sweetie?”

“I, um.” He blushed, licked his lips. “It’s. Complicated. Like I said. They don’t… they don’t mean it, they’re nice, but it’s…”

He hummed, looking at his hands in his lap. “You know how you’re all half-ghosts, and so am I?”

“Yes?” His mom frowned a little, shooting a short glance towards Jack. “Is that not… Is that a problem, back home?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, because I never told them.” He blew out a breath, the confession making him feel lighter. Not much, but, well. A little. “It’s… You know how you’re human hunters, here? Well, my parents, they hunt ghosts.”

“Oh,” his dad said on his other side, voice low and quiet.

“Yeah.” Danny sighed, thumbs twirling. “They, um. They’ve seen me in my ghost form, but they didn’t know it was me. I’m the only half-ghost in town, so I… fight the other ghosts? To protect the town. But they don’t see it like that. They just see an aggressive ghost causing trouble.”

“They hurt you,” Jazz stated, her voice clearly forced into neutrality to cover up her emotions. “Right? They’ve hurt you, but they didn’t know it was you because you never told them. And they don’t think of the similarities, because they don’t think half-ghosts can exist.”

He barked out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, you nailed it. They’ve, uh. Made something of a habit out of threatening and insulting ‘Phantom’ around me and Jazz. They work on their inventions in the lab and in the kitchen, and they keep going off near me, and one day--” He snapped his mouth shut, shaking off the thought.

“And you’re afraid that one day it’ll go wrong.” Light flashed as Maddie shifted back to her human form without moving. Her hand, laying on Danny’s, became marginally warmer. “You’re afraid of your parents, because they don’t know that their prey and their son are the same person.”

Danny nodded, listlessly.

“Can I offer some advice?” Jazz asked, her hand on his knee. She continued before he got a chance to answer. “Tell them.”

“What?” he frowned at her.

“Tell them,” Jazz repeated, looking from him to their parents. “You’re afraid because they don’t know that you’re half-ghost. So tell them.”

“But they-- They hate ghosts.” He gestured with his free hand, leaving the one with Maddie’s hand on it. “They hate ghosts with such fervor that they’ve dedicated their life to getting rid of every single one of them!”

“Danny.” His dad caught his free hand, gently placing it down and pinning it with his own warm hand. At some point he, too, had shifted back to human form. “Danny, I don’t know how different your version of me is, but I can tell you one thing with absolute certainty. The most important thing in my life, always and ever, is my family. And that includes my son, human or ghost or half-ghost.”

“Oh,” he said, soundlessly. “But--”

“What about your sister?” his mother asked, suddenly, cocking her head at him. “You said that she would help, and Sam and Tucker. Does she know?”

“Uh…” Danny twitched at the non-sequitur. “Yeah? I mean, I didn’t tell her, but she figured it out on her own.”

“And she hasn’t recommended that you tell your parents?” this Jazz asked, brow quirked. “She didn’t comment on the secret-keeping, on the damage it could do?”

“I, well…” he sighed, letting his head hang. “She did, actually. But she’s… big on letting me tell people at my own pace. And she’s heard the vitriol my parents spit, so…”

“So she should’ve encouraged you to tell them,” Jazz insisted, more forcefully. “Danny, you need your family. You can’t hide this. Do you really think that they haven’t noticed that something changed, that their relationship somehow got damaged and they don’t even know what happened?”

“I… oh.” He looked at his hands, both covered by his parents’ hands. “I hadn’t… thought about that.”

Maddie sighed. “And I guess I didn’t think about how we might’ve done something similar to our Danny, insisting that he had to be half-ghost as well.”

“Well, how about this, then,” Danny said, trying to summon his bravery a little. He could, at least, help this other version of himself, right? That’s what heroes did, and he was a hero. “You tell him that you love him, that you accept him, half-ghost or not, and I’ll tell my parents.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” his dad boomed, his characteristic grin finally reappearing. His free hand clapped on Danny’s back. “Now we just need to figure out how to get you back!”

Danny opened his mouth to reply, but halted as a pulse of energy ripped through the atmosphere. He couldn’t tell where it came from, just felt the pure power hum--

White light blinded him, energy ripping at his body, he didn’t know what was happening, and--

Then, blissfully, he passed out.

[thesanguinerose]

Rory Redacted Survey Thing

Tagged by @queenofeden so RIP everyone, I'm posting on mobile and have no read more :[

EDIT: Readmore established hehe...

BASICS

Name: Riordan Tanner[given name]

Riordan O'Marcaigh[mother's maiden name/aunt's last name]

Riordan Devorak [post game]

Nickname(s)/Titles: Rory (Everyone calls him this), Ro (Julian), Rory Redacted (inside joke)

Age: 27 [start of game]

Birthday: April 11

Zodiac Sign: sun Aries, moon Sagittarius, rising Leo

Gender: male [trans right babey]

Pronouns: he/him

Orientation: bi [male pref]

Favorite flower: carnation

Favorite food: steak, medium-rare 

Favorite drink: apple cider [hot/cold/alcoholic/non...all of it]

Love Interest: Julian. I use him for all of them, but his backstory and personality is so perfectly crafted for the Julian route that it feels weird with anyone else now.

APPEARANCE/PHYSICAL TRAITS

Height: 5'2" - [5'4"-5'5" with heels/heeled boots, which he always wears]

Weight: 165

Body type/build: Average build, slightly thicker. Round/heart shaped face, upper body is thinner with a layer of muscle under the soft - gets more muscular post-game due to the time spent on a ship. Thick/strong legs, has an ass 😌

Skin: white and ruddy, pink/warm undertones

Hair: dark brown, kept long/below his shoulders. Ties it into a ponytail, messy bun, or loose braid sometimes. Intricate braiding and hairpieces/rings are for special occasions. Cuts it above his shoulders once and hates it.

Eyes: Green

Distinguishing features: freckles, left ear is pierced at the lobe and a few times on the cartilage. Wears earrings in all holes, usually wears a silver chain earring connecting the lobe to cartilage.

Clothing: 

pre-game > lots of sheer shirts over crop tops, shorts, leggings, couture inspired masquerade outfits, silver accessories only - gold washes him out. Signature colors are blue and silver. As the plague spread, kept himself more covered, though the fabrics were still sheer. Worn canvas or linen shirts at Best.

During game > white linen undershirt, modified stay over it to act as a binder, a white gauze shirt over that with sleeves rolled up, navy vest/jerkin, tan pants, brown heeled boots, his black handbag of holding.

Physical health: he needs glasses to see. Is overall in ok health. Allergic to three types of trees all of which are in the surrounding area, prone to hayfever, his joints click.

PERSONALITY/INTERESTS

Personality: 

PreGame > confident to a point that it is irritating and rude, blunt, quick to anger, doesn't cry, cares about people but pretends not to, bad at making connections with people, needs to be wanted and latches on to people who have feelings for him, doesn't tell people Things About Himself. It's all a defense mechanism - he's deeply sensitive and feels a lot, but doesn't understand how to express it in a way that makes sense. Doesn't wear his glasses bc they make him look like a nerd. Pride and hubris are his ultimate downfall, doesn't listen to people he cares about because once he's decided he's doing something, he's going to do it. Died with a laundry list of regrets.

InGame > jumpy and antsy, doesn't like going outside because it's a lot, but longs for adventure. Kinder now that The Weight Of Life has not pressed itself upon him. Mom Friend instincts, will rise to the challenge during an immediate crisis, but once it's over, he needs to be taken care of. Quick to cry. Embarrassingly quick to cry. Gradually gains his confidence back in a healthy way, still incredibly impulsive, is more open and communicative with his feelings. Still quick to anger.

Likes: being right, dogs, tea, shiny/sparkly things [esp pretty rocks and jewelry], fashion, horses, fire.

Dislikes: being told he's wrong/not getting what he wants, blood magic, people who don't cover their mouths when they sneeze, waiting, being called cute or any variation thereof. Do Not Call Him A Witch.

Fears: being known and by extension rejected, the dark, spiders, water

Habits: tapping his fingers on things, touching any and all textiles that catch his eye, picking at his nails, making promises he has a hard time keeping

Mental health: ADHD - emphasis on RSD esp pre game. Translates into anxiety in-game/post-game. Varying degrees of depression and suicidal ideation pre game.

LIFE

Residence: born in unnamed Fantasy Ireland, lived in Prakra for 4 years[16-20] has lived in the shop in Vesuvia since[20-27]

Occupation: magician, shopkeep, prakran magic school alumni. Formerly: leathersmith's apprentice, doctor's apprentice

Skills: sewing/embroidery, basic alchemy, illusion based magic [esp in a party/theatrical context], divination, conjuration, horseback riding, general showmanship, arguing/debating

TRIVIA -Mostly pregame/backstory based.

Grew up on a farm that handled livestock primarily. Also raised horses.

Repressed his talent for magic due to it making his mother and the villagers uncomfortable.

Jumping off that: Mommy Issues ™ 

Has incredibly good intuition and is a natural at divination, but he is predisposed to giving negative readings or only having a Spidey Sense when something bad is going to happen. As a result, abhors divination because he thinks either 1. It's wrong [it isn't his life is just a mess], 2. He can't do it right or 3. He's the reason bad things happen.

Had a border collie named Patches his aunt gave him when he was on his way to Prakra. Status post death is unknown. Also has a horse named Callam who he's had since he was about 8. Status post death is unknown.

Had a younger brother named Riley who went MIA during battle. Likely killed by the plague. It runs in the family.

Is allergic to three types of trees and has to wear very specific gloves and a mask when gathering herbs so he doesn't break out in hives.

Kept an extremely detailed journal. It documents his life from when he left home to his death. Has doodles. So many doodles. Not really cohesive, but it makes sense to him. Also has shopping lists. [Out of use post-death, but Rory reads it post-game]

Did he mention he went to the magic college in Prakra? Because he went to college and if you didn’t know, well, he sure will tell you about it.

Was incredibly close with his Aunt, who was basically Him but Nicer and Watered Down.

Speaks fantasy Gaelic fluently before his death, esp with his Aunt. Taught Asra curse words. loses most of it when he's brought back. Also loses part of his accent, falling into general Vesuvian, though it shines through when he speaks quickly and on specific words.

Is 90% talk and 10% action. He's a weenie.

Made a Bag Of Holding in magic college - Carries it everywhere both pre and in-game. Works like a Mary Poppins bag, but small and black and stylish. Goes with everything.

Had time to settle into his gender identity and presentation in pre-game, is utterly unapologetic. Had mild dysphoria but nowhere near as bad as current/post. Current Rory starts from scratch and has to work back up to feeling okay, but has general "oh bad" feelings for a while. Bad feelings are only exacerbated by the Fool's body before he understands it. Takes a lot of work to do so. He ends up okay!!

Had two sexual partners before his death, but dated a whole lot of people. Very picky about who he does things with, but also needs to be desired. Broke a lot of hearts out of boredom and the fear of being vulnerable.

LOOKS ™ 

Pregame:

In/postgame:

[bitchsexuality]

@animaliae

ok first off i’m sorry i took so long to reply!! i’ve been busy in the most tedious way possible so my brain’s not exactly my best friend right now. second off: THANK U SO MUCH these were so fun to answer!!

i’m putting all of these in the same post because i started talking and i could not Shut The Up, and i think one atrociously long post is better than four long posts when it comes to like, scrollability. scrollpastability? scroll-Something. and putting it under a readmore too for the same reasons

SO, from top to bottom:

weirdest character idea for D-N-D:

it’s an idea i’ve already had because i can’t come up with anything right now dksjfgbd, but

once i made a druid for a D//N/D-based CRPG who only cast spells when they gave him something edible (in theory ofc, the game didn’t let me eat my summoned bears... thankfully...), so i ended up with nothing but goodberries and several animal summoning spells. then i proceeded to cheat my way through the game, which defeated the point sdfgsd, but it was still fun concept-wise

also made me spend too much time wondering if the entangle spell’s vines could be eaten. i mean you can’t eat the WHOLE thing but maybe you could like, munch on it a little, or try to slurp it up like a noodle. it wouldn’t be tasty, it wouldn’t be easy, and it most definitely would not be healthy, but it’s like. the principle of the thing 

if ur asking yourself WHY i did that… well there aren’t THAT many D/ND-based CRPGS out there and i’d already played that one —several times, in fact— so i wanted to try something different :0

i mean it’s not THAT weird tbh, but he’s the only OC i can think of right now that soooooort of fits? and my brain is like, a tundra of creativity at the moment. a deep tar pool that absorbs all inspiration and drags it, kicking and screaming, to its viscous doom. well you get the idea. or i hope you do because i sure fucking don’t

ideal ending for one of my characters:

hmmmm for like, original fiction characters i more or less have all their endings planned out? most of them ARE ideal because i am fully in control of their destinies and i am also a softhearted lidle bich who prefers stories with relatively uplifting/happy endings. or tbh even the ones that aren’t technically happy are still ideal in terms of character arcs, development, etc

(i might be giving myself way too much credit there though skdjgbdksjfg)

and —though this is super unlikely and mostly just me deceiving myself at this point— i do want to publish what i’m working on rn, so talking about endings would be a spoiler for something that does not exist and probably never will outside of my idiot fool head. so i’m gonna talk about an old OC that i’m not doing anything with anymore!

her name was elina and her entire deal was that she came from a family of very powerful witches who owned a, uh, i guess you could call it an archive? or a library?? idk, it was just an ABSURDLY large collection of magic-related books, and it pretty much contained all known arcane knowledge (though come think of it, “all known arcane knowledge” can’t have been THAT much because the archive was just one room. a huge fucking monster of a room yeah but like. still just One)

so anyway, her family members were very dutiful + responsible when it came to the archivelibraryroom thing, but they were also too traditional for her tastes? like they didn’t bother practicing/using magic, or experimenting, or looking for anything outside of books; they only cared about written things, and even then they did nothing but get the Very Important Books, put them in the archivelibraryroom and forget about them completely

then elina ran into a group of other magic-users who were investigating a weird phenomenon in her hometown, and she asked her family about it, but they essentially were like “oh if it doesn’t affect the books we don’t care lol anyway it’s your turn to clean the archivelibrary now”

but yeah i’m sure y’all can tell where this is going kjdfgbd elina was the typical YA protag in that she was super rebellious, so she turned her back on her family and left her house to help the group of inconveniently yet stereotypically teenage magic-users, made friends, learned about magic, blah blah blah

the issue is that i never gave that story an ending? like the closest thing to it was a vague “uhhhh elina goes back home to find the archivelibrary is burning down and pulls some kind of mysterious water magic out of her ass to save it; then her family apologizes, they begin to respect her and she stays with them to keep caring for the archivelibrary, But With A Progressive Twist”

the issue was that after writing around two chapters i realized i didn’t actually Have a plot, so i didn’t know what story that ending would be... ending... and since i couldn’t think of anything + i wasn’t THAT attached to the characters anyway i just gave up on it

but now that i’m thinking of it again, just for the sake of ending the Story That Never Was, i feel like making her earn the respect of her family just because she saved the books + proved she actually cares about that too is, idk, shallow? out of character? 

because she believed that her family’s fixation on history + Neatly Documented stuff was holding them back and making things worse for everyone. she left her home behind because her ideals re.: magic —that it should grow and change to fit the context + people’s needs, and not the other way around— were so strong

OOF THIS IS GETTING SO FUCKING LONG KSDJGB i’m just gonna stop here and say: elina’s new ideal ending is pretty much that while she ends up in friendly terms with her family —because, in spite of their fundamental disagreements, they never hurt her— she doesn’t go back home and chooses to travel around the world instead, helping people in whichever way possible and freely sharing her knowledge with anyone who’s willing to listen and, at the same time, learning from them

i mean, the concept’s not too original ksjdbg just something i thought of super quick, and that’s just a half-assed attempt at closure for an OC i made when i was like… 9

headcanons about my favs:

ok this one’s hard because i’m not into any like… fandom things right now? i haven’t found anything that rly interests me or that i could see myself being passionate about, which sucks because i do kinda miss being into stuff with Established Content :( 

so i’ve been focusing on my OCs + original stories and such. and i’m not sure if OC headcanons count as headcanons because i control canon so technically everything i come up with IS canon. then again it’s headcanon too because it’s a canon from my head because that’s where ideas come from. okay wait i’m not making any cents here x 

but uhh knowing me i might think of something right after publishing this, so if that happens i’ll come back and edit this post :0

also just saying but if any of y’all know of something i could get into then lmk, i’m open to suggestions! preferably free stuff though... i’m beset by capitalisms

a favorite scene that i loved:

i can’t remember any in particular right now, either from my #content or somebody else’s SDFKJGBDF god my mind 😔 well i mean i’m gonna be a little bit full of meself and say that i’ve written things that i really like, especially imagery-wise, but i Also want to publish those someday… like i’ve also written original/OC-related stuff that i don’t plan on publishing, but i’m not THAT proud of them tbh :/

i was —emphasis on was— trying to write a short story about jasna (one of my D-N/D OCs, a cleric of oghma) that never really went anywhere, but i did post a snippet on my OC blog, and that’s what i hate the least out of all my recent attempts at writing? so i’m just gonna put it here again ig sdfgs (not actually linking to the OC blog post because it’s kind of a mess rn, i need to fix the theme + clean it up a bit)

if you got this far and read all of this nonsensical verbal monster: i love u with all my heart and i would legitimately die for u.

[tflatte]

okay i was tired and happy and forgot about providing more detailed thoughts on hadestown till i was going to bed and ofc i was too tired at that point to do anything but here we go. this is long so have a readmore

okay, things i Did Not like first

wasn’t huge on the changes made to the chants and epic iii. the chants were mostly fine, actually, except i did miss persephone’s verse in chant ii, it was really good and i liked hearing her viewpoint on her and hades’ relationship. i definitely wasn’t thrilled with the edits to epic iii though, i really liked the “heavy and hard is the heart of a king” bit and i thought orpheus explicitly saying “because hades is like me” kind of weakened it

i haven’t decided if i like if it’s true better as the romantic song it was previously(because it was. SO romantic, in a heartbreaking kind of way) or the rebellious song it became. i think it could’ve stood to preserve at least one or two lines about orpheus offering up his music because it’s useless to him without eurydice. or at least the “i ask you as a brother, and i ask you as a friend, and i ask you as a lover, and i ask you once again” part, that was good

andre deshields is an EXCELLENT actor, dancer, singer, and performer in general and i absolutely do not mean this in any way against him personally - but i do think i liked hermes better with a deeper voice

not really about the show but the merchandise was EXPENSIVE. i mean i bought it but holy shit. i would’ve gotten a shirt too except it was 40 dollars and i’d already paid that much for a hat and a keychain because i’m a fucking sucker

and! everything else!!!

we were absolutely THRILLED when we got to our seats because we weren’t sure if they were going to be great, but they were actually fantastic. we were all the way on the left of the theater in the mezzanine but the angle was steep enough that there was no concern about seeing over anyone, and we were more than close enough to see everyone’s faces perfectly(you know, barring them being too far over to our right, but you can’t win them all)

i didn’t check our playbills right away because i had seen the merch table and wanted to go scope it out but when i got back we both delighted for a minute because my mom had checked it in my absence and there were no announcements about any cast changes so we got to see the WHOLE cast!!

eva noblezada? absolutely STELLAR i cannot believe she’s 23 she’s been in a lot of stuff?? and she’s PHENOMENAL. her belt in wait for me ii is to die for(no pun intended). also everyone who was complaining about how she doesn’t “look” right for eurydice can bite me. she’s adorable and also very pretty and probably looks more like a greek myth than any of them do. also her bit in chant i was changed to her trying to trust orpheus to finish his song and bring back spring and i do think i liked that change. she definitely played it well, and broke my heart when she was trying to fight the fates as they stole her backpack and coat

patrick page was JUST as good as i was hoping and still has the deepest voice on the fucking planet, he was very menacing and him softening in epic iii? played so good. also “i conduct the electric city” is still possibly the coolest single line delivery in the entire show

andre deshields got a LOT of laughs and cheers the whole show and while i didn’t realize it happened it made so much sense to me that hermes takes eurydice down to hadestown when she chooses to use her ticket, he had such great energy the whole time. you really get how much he cares about orpheus, and how it breaks his heart to know how the story ends

(side note: i wondered what the “ticket” was the whole time i listened to the soundtrack and two silver pieces? that eurydice briefly holds over her eyes as she’s considering them? good shit)

amber gray, absolutely STUNNING performer. funny even while you’re feeling so sorry for persephone. i didn’t realize she does our lady of the underground to the audience but it was a great way to start act ii. also her dancing? amazing. so active, and those shoes did not look easy to dance in even when there wasn’t a GIANT PIT in the middle of the stage. i teared up when hades finally sang the song of his love to her again and she was crying and nodding. also there’s a bit in way down hadestown where she slumps over but she’s standing up, like limp from the waist up with her head and arms and hair hanging down, and she’s still dancing and all i could think was “that looks so uncomfortable” but she pulled it off flawlessly anyway

i really really liked how in word to the wise during “whole damn nation’s watching you” the fates point to us in the audience and hades turns to look at us

the chorus was absolutely killer?? like first off they were both the people up on the surface and the workers and it felt so natural so good job on that. also they were all ripped. i know this because they wear minimal shirts in hadestown and i was like “oh that’s very impressive good work all of you”

the lighting? also awesome. the swinging lamps were really great and we could definitely see the moving-streetlight inspiration at one point. 

i of course knew what was coming all along but as orpehus reached the stairs that would take them home and turned around to see eurydice i still gasped. turns out that as-is the dialogue is very simple and just echoes come home with me ii and ouch. the last thing he hears from her as she’s sinking back into hadestown is her sobbing “orpheus!” and the last thing she hears is him screaming “eurydice!” and it fucking KILLED ME

speaking of, really liked the changes to doubt comes in. you have the fates asking him “where is she?” again and again and asking, basically, who the hell he thinks he is to lead her out, to lead the other workers to freedom, and then he starts asking the same questions

also liked that in word to the wise hades does “only one thing to be done” to hermes, and that it changed “let them think that they have won”, although it seemed a touch awkward. but i like hades not being A Villain. hermes being very emphatic to orpheus that it’s not a trick or a trap but a test was extra heartbreaking because you know he’s going to fail it and so does hermes

the show ends with eurydice, back in her outfit from the opening, lighting and admiring the same candle she’d lit and admired in road to hell, and orpheus entering and freezing as he sees her. we’re gonna sing it again indeed.

way down hadestown still rocks. instead of orpheus singing with hermes about how much hadestown sucks it’s persephone, which makes sense

oh come home with me ii changes it so instead of the fates telling orpheus that eurydice signed a contract it’s hades and that was Good. patrick page played hades’ mocking little “oh you don’t know” so well

hades and persephone dancing was so sweet and so good i was watching it like “you know what? we’re good. we’re good here. pack up everyone show’s over good game let’s go home we don’t need any more”

orpheus crumpling to his knees when he loses eurydice is very simple and very obvious but very upsetting

eurydice joins in the last “we build the wall to keep us free” and. sad. also they add an effect onto hades’ part of it to make it sound like he’s speaking through loudspeakers to a whole massive crowd and it’s a very nice touch

it’s almost a month to the soundtrack release i want it nooooooooow