#extra mention for skully

[thisgameissonintendo]

making posters for this goddamn show because netflix doesn’t seem to bother

[skullycaresforobjects]

Skully Answers: What is That Monster?

Pictures on the internet have been depicting the giant black and blue figure above, mainly humoring object meme (memes about objects, pandered towards humans) websites such as The Cheese or Objectworks.

You may think it’s a “haha funny big guy surrounding small guys” meme, but it’s not as funny as you think. As you can notice, the eyes are incredibly abnormal. A gene such as this is barely even possible, and doesn’t go to that extent in natural cases. The size is a questionable thing. Usually, spherical objects aren’t larger than necked/taller objects, like the ukulele seen there. It’s possible, but also rare for natural occurrences. Not to mention the extra arm, which is a ONE IN TWENTY MILLION POSSIBILITY. The idea of this object is not normal, as it is an impossible combination of genes.

If you think about it, it could be one of a kind, but the most common explanation for objects like those is they were unethically mutated. It is common for lab-made objects to have mutations like these that are naturally rare or in some cases impossible. If an experiment fails, people who keep objects as pets rather than as something similar to a housemate pay big money for these unethically mutated objects.

If you spot an object like that in a high class house, 19 times out of 20 you should call an investigative service specializing in objects. Usually, smaller cities will have at least one, larger ones multiple, and it’s likely your nearest city will. Police stations are also a good calling if there are no services ~1.5 hours from all directions of your town or area.

[girlwithwolftatoo]

Please spare h/cs about moon boys and stalker!reader 🔥

(Since now i’ll start to sign as 💀)

I think I'll call you... Skully (?

Marc Spector:

*Very good at noticing something's wrong and someone is following him.

*Either way, he believes in "ask first, hit later" and makes some moves to face you.

*He's a little confused, why are you following him? You look like anything but a criminal or a merc or... well, a menace, to be honest.

*"You better stop what you're doing" he warns you, towering but never touching you. Like, compared to him, you're small and with an obvious lack of physical strenght to take him down.

*...Not like his words are going to stop you. The main problem is, the next time you met, he's being Moon Knight and it scares you to death, because everyone knows the legend of this white-suited vigilante who's pure violence and doesn't bat an eye when punishing criminals. "What did I tell you?" he grunts after saving you in one of those nights you were behind his heels and faced by accident a gang.

*Marc doesn't know what to think of you. You're obviously a little flee wasting your time in a creepy hobbie, but you're mostly harmless and very clumsy if he noticed you so fast. And deep inside, wants to know why are you so interested in him.

Steven Grant:

*Is more likely he learns about your doings by other's mouths than by himself. Like, you've been visiting the museum or just walking around for days and the security personal is getting worried about that.

*He had run a couple of times onto you by accident (from him, you were getting closer on purpose) and slow but surely, begins to notice your presence is very common. And, well, you're in London, a big city, it can't be a coincidence.

*Probably you were too obvious this time, for he approaches you with his usual good nature ("Hello... can I help you? Noticed you've been around for a'while...") and the duel of socially anxious people begins between both of you.

*Impossible to know what happened, did you invite him, did he invite you? Anyways, you arrange a date and actually show up, and you make a huge effort to not show how obsessed you've been with him since the past weeks.

*But your plan of acting normal fails when you met him as Mr. Knight (probably in a less dangerous situation than the mentioned with Marc) and you confess, feeling embarrased for being caught, your past behavior.

*"Yes, they could be a crazy criminal, dunno, they look very nice and -I've never felt in danger these weeks. But it's funny, don't you think? Having someone looking upon you? I should be more careful, I know, but... they're nice, if we just ignore they're a little unhinged" (Steven talking to Crowley about you)

Jake Lockley:

*Nothing escapes from his sight. Jake can feel when someone's around him, and yes, he noticed you since the first time you began to follow him.

*He's generous, and gives you some space for your doings, pretending he's not aware of your not-so-far presence. But it's just a game, you soon become the prey and he corners you in an alley, without any intend of being nice.

*"Entonces..." he whispers while showing you he's armed, one hand keeping you pressed against a wall "you're a little mouse, following me for all the city, and don't try to deny it. Tell me, why?"

*He has reasons to be this extra, maybe thinking you're part of Harrow's cult searching for revenge after his death. If you don' answer quick, or he's not sure you're being honest, he'll search for things on you than can be considered a menace, including your phone, where you probably have some not very well taken photos.

*At this point you're probably about to burst in tears, Jake can scare the sh*t out of anyone even if he's not being directly aggresive. "I'm s-sorry, I... I won't bother you again, please, just... I just..." you mumble. He shushes you with his gloved hand caressing your face "Tranquila, ratoncita ("Calm down, little mouse"), I'm not going to hurt you... Just getting sure you're not being a problem, okay?"

*The predator becoming the prey goes further. Now you're the one being stalked by Jake, who wants to be sure you're not part of something that may damage him or the other Moon boys, and of course he's far better in this than you. But, to be honest, he felt a little pleased with the idea of you going after him because you liked him, yes, you're not a very normal person, but so isn't him...

[rageandroarcustoms]

Heres the finished photos of the skully head for softdrawz on Instagram! As an extra feature I wanted to mention the antlers are rotatable! So you can change up the placing of them ^-^

I'm so proud of this head especially since it was my first ever skull head I've done ^-^

And here's the photos of the whole halfsuit together plus some photos of all the different tails with the legs i made for the suit. Also in the tail set of photos I put in there photos of the legs on the commissioners DTD since im a different size then they are!

I was almost too big for this suit but I managed to make it work out :) this guy will be heading on its way to Canada tomorrow!

Cant wait to see all the photos and stuff they take in him :3

[world-of-horrors-au]

Horrors AU - Into the Wolves’ Den

Part 2 of the ‘Briar VS Proxies’ story. Part 1 here.

TW: mentions of violence, ask to tag

No one ever told her proxies were as strong as Horrors. There was no way to pull away from Hoodie's grip. Not that she wanted to try. The moonlight glinted off the rifle in his other hand. He'd been willing to use it before on her. Even if she somehow got away, he'd shoot her down before she could get far. And then, what would happen to her? Would he carry her away? Or would he shoot her in the head? Even a Horror couldn't survive that.

Briar had no choice but to follow him wherever he was taking her.

They were the loudest things in the Forest. More her than him. Hoodie dodged past trees and avoided branches with skilled practice. Everything broke under Briar's feet. She was trained to sneak through buildings, not nature. If it annoyed Hoodie, he didn't say it. He didn't say anything to her at all.

She drew in a breath, tasting the wood and heat in the air.

"Are you going to kill me?" Briar asked.

"Shut up," Hoodie said. The iron grip tightened, and she cringed. "No," he added, his grip relaxing. "But if you don't do what we want, you'll wish we would."

Swallowing, Briar nodded. Do what they want. Do whatever they wanted. What other choice did she have? They could hurt the others if she acted out. He says they wouldn't kill her, but that didn't mean much. Jeff taught her all about the things you could do to someone without killing them.

Oh, Jeff… her heart ached at the thought of her mentor. If only she'd listened to him. 

“Please,” she said, looking at him. “Something’s wrong. Do you know where-”

“Are you deaf?” Hoodie snapped. “I said shut up!”

Briar flinched away. Hoodie took a deep breath.

“I’ve noticed it too,” He said, in a steady, growling voice. “I know your friends are gone. But it’s not my job to care about them. I have my orders, and they involve getting you taken care of.”

She shuddered. 

“If you say anything else,” Hoodie said, tone darkening, “Without me addressing you first, I’m going to break your leg and make you walk the rest of the way there. Keep your mouth shut. Got it?”

Images of her teenage years flashed through her head. When she was fifteen, she’d dislocated her knee at a survivor’s camp. The camp’s major decided the injury was her own fault, and told the medics not to help her. The next two weeks were agony, Briar barely able to move, but still forced to walk and stand and sit with the others. They told her the pain was her weakness leaving her body. It was only when they were short on hands that the major decided to have her knee popped into place to help build the security wall. Her biological family wasn’t there to help her, just like her real family wasn’t here to save her now.

She’d never forgotten what it was like to dislocate her knee. And breaking a leg was worse. Now her body healed faster than before, so it wouldn’t be two weeks of suffering, but if she could avoid any extra pain… Was that considered cowardice? Then she must be a coward.

Briar nodded. Hoodie snorted, yanked her forward, and walked faster through the trees. She forced herself to keep up.

She knew the Forest was massive, and maybe it was the fear talking, but this walk seemed to take longer than any she'd taken before. The silence hurt. All the questions she had circled through her head, like echoes. She wanted Jeff. She wanted Eyeless Jack and Ben, and Laughing Jack, too, even if he drove her crazy. What was she going to do? How was she going to survive this? She should've listened to Jeff…

Through the trees, light caught her eye. Briar tensed, refocusing her attention. Wherever he was taking her must be up ahead, and if she got out and wanted to find it again, she had to focus.

She wasn't prepared for it.

Briar had only seen buildings as big as this in the cities. She'd heard about old manors, pre-fall mansions, that could've housed over twenty people, and employed over fifty just to take care of it. Huge and gray, it stood as tall as the trees, three stories of windows and balconies, carved monsters perched on the roof, beautiful and hideous, a disaster of design and existence. It shouldn't still be standing, ivy clutching every wall, glass windows shattered or missing. The wood was rotting, the brick crumbling. And yet there were lights on, she could see them shine by either side of the front door. How? 

Her feet almost stumbled on the first stone but Hoodie didn't let her fall, hauling her up and forward. Briar's stomach twisted, looking down at her shoes as they stumbled over the once impressive pavement, now overgrown with weeds and grass.

They live here, Briar thought. Like Jeff told me.

Hoodie was taking her to the other proxies, and what was going to happen to her then? Would they tear her apart like they did when they executed a Horror? Or would it be a slow torture, a gradual fall into despair, or worse? 

As they stepped up the stairs, someone laughed from the inside. Briar inhaled the hot summer air and bit her lip. She couldn’t show fear. She had to be like Jeff. But as Hoodie yanked the door open, and a cold breeze slammed into her face, Briar realized a stoney expression wasn’t going to happen.

The entry hall went silent as they crossed into the manor. Goosebumps pricked along her skin, Briar shivering in the sudden chill. She didn’t look up at the assembled proxies but she felt their eyes, their surprise, on her. Briar kept her eyes to the floor, following Hoodie as he led her deeper into the manor without a word to his allies. He bypassed the stairs, heading down a hall, and behind them, footsteps followed.

She only looked up when they came to a stop. A generic brown door stood in front of her. Hoodie yanked it open. Releasing her arm, he shoved her back, hard enough to bruise. Crying out, Briar fell into the room, hitting the dirty floor with a pained yelp. A shadow fell over her, and with a click she could feel, gloved hands removed the handcuffs. The shadow straightened again and behind her, the door slammed shut. She twisted to look over her shoulder just in time to hear something lock.

“That takes care of that,” Hoodie said on the other side. “For now.”

“What the hell are you thinking?!” A man shouted. “Why did you bring her here?!”

“You know damn well why I did, Masky,” Hoodie replied. “She’s not going to give us any more problems now. The plan can continue without being interrupted for the third fucking time.”

Briar pushed herself up to her hands and knees, turning to press against the door to listen.

“So you kidnapped her,” the man replied, the anger burning in his voice. “To get her out of the way.”

“We’re not keeping her, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Hoodie said. “She’s not a pet. We teach her a lesson about minding her own business, finish the plan, and let her go. She’s smart. She’ll learn.”

“Hoodie, how are we going to feed her? We barely have enough food for ourselves,” Masky said. “And none of our dungeons are ready for prisoners. The only one with a shower is still wrecked after Toby’s bullshit.”

“I said I’d fix it!” A third, younger male voice said, and Briar winced. “I’ve got the stuff. I just don’t have enough hands.”

“Could’ve said you needed help,” Masky said.

“Easy,” Hoodie warned. “Beastie, Skully, you’re going to help Toby fix the dungeon. Kate, you’re going to get her supplies. Masky, you and I are going grocery shopping - tomorrow. We don’t need to worry about her tonight.”

“Thank the reaper,” a woman, Kate presumably, said in a dry voice.

“We’re just going to leave her in there all night?” Masky said.

“Yeah,” Hoodie said. “She’s a Horror, she’ll manage. Though since you give a shit, you get first dibs.”

“What? No!” Masky said.

“Shut up, I’m being nice. The rest of you have to wait your turns, got it?”

The group beyond the door grumbled, their voices blending together to the point Briar couldn’t understand what they were saying. Their voices joined with their footsteps, fading into the silence that surrounded her. Briar pulled away from the door.

She wasn’t in a big room. Actually, it was probably a large closet. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she listened to the conversation, but looking around revealed very little. A few empty boxes, a pile of rags in the corner, that was it. And it wasn’t any warmer than the entryway had been.

Briar leaned against the door and hugged herself. Her eyes closed. They weren’t going to kill her. They’d let her go but only after they’d ‘taught her a lesson’, a phrase she’d heard before in her life, and it never failed to make her sick to her stomach. A long term stay, long enough to need food, supplies, a bathroom. God, how could she have let herself be captured? What was she going to do?

Still hugging herself, Briar pulled away from the door and paced. Whatever the proxies were going to do to her, it would hurt, and there wasn’t much she could do about it. They wanted revenge - but for what? She’d only seen the proxies in passing outside of skirmishes in and out of the Forest. Had she angered them somehow? They acted like she knew what she was doing the whole time, but she couldn’t think of anything she’d done to them. She certainly never attacked first, and if she learned about a plan, she wouldn’t try to stop it, she’d try to learn more about it and tell the others.

The others… Briar wiped a hand over her face. The men she loved, and who loved her and each other. Where were they right now? Were they hurt? Were they captured? Were they… dead? No, she wouldn’t think about that, she wouldn’t even consider that. They couldn’t be dead, and they weren’t going to die. They survived the Horrors War, whatever happened, they could survive. And she could survive this ordeal, even if it hurt.

She pressed her forehead against the cold, off white wall. The hardest part would be sleeping, if she could, was allowed, to sleep at all. It’d been months since she last slept alone. There was nothing sexual about it, Horrors cuddled when they slept, a tangle of limbs and breathing under the sheets. Usually it was Jeff, sleeping next to her back to back. Sometimes it was Eyeless Jack, with Jeff or alone with her. Laughing Jack rolled on top of her sometimes in the night, his body as light as a teddy bear. Ben didn’t sleep but he’d let her put her head in his lap while he played his games. And when they could, they’d all pile into her bed at once. And it was nice. It was right.

The tears burned her eyes. There was no one to see them, but she fought them at first. But her body always won. The tears flowed down, hot against her chilled skin. Briar swallowed a sob. She couldn’t let them hear her, she wouldn’t give them that pleasure. 

Stumbling towards the pile of rags, Briar collapsed into it, leaning into the corner behind her. She covered her face with both hands, and let herself hurt.

I’ll get out, she comforted herself as she wept in silence. This isn’t my end. I’ll get out.

And if the eyes watching from the darkness judged her for crying, they were quiet about it.

[horrors-at-night]

Quick NSFT/adult Horrors hcs

This list will probably tell a lot about me as a person

Both Horrors and Proxies fuck a lot behind the scenes

Briar and EJ's first time together was three days, more or less, after the hospital fic. She wasn't a virgin but it was the first time she'd had sex since graduating college.

I stole the concept of slick from abo aus even though this isn't one. All male Horrors produce it, no matter what position they prefer.

Most Horrors, or at least the biological ones, go into heat. I'm not sure about LJ or Ben but EJ and Jeff definitely do. Heat is a pleasant annoyance for EJ and something Jeff dreads. Briar hasn't had her first heat yet and her lovers are getting low-key concerned about why.

Jeff is... Uneasy when it comes to sex due to his past. He's healing, but finds sex more comfortable when there's someone other than the person he's having sex with around to reassure him and keep him grounded.

He has no issues with sitting around on his phone while two or more people go at it in the same room though. Will probably take the occasional photo or video of the act with his phone and maybe help out if an extra hand is needed.

Jeff and Briar are both completely hairless, as most human type Horrors are. EJ has a lot of hair and a very obvious happy trail when he takes off his shirt.

Yes, LJ has a striped dick. Yes he will fuck his lovers in the air since he can float.

Ben is a massive pervert with an impressive collection of sex toys. Due to being digital, he make his form look like anything and have anything, dick or vagina. He doesn't have much bottom dysphoria so he's comfortable using both, but will always have a male form regardless of what's between his legs. He enjoys teasing the others with sexual jokes and comments, but knows their boundaries and sticks to them.

Multiple guys have knots, including Toby on the proxy side.

Speaking of proxies, Hoodie has claimed Skully and no one else is allowed to touch him. Skully doesn't often sleep in his own bedroom anymore due to this

Toby has sadomasochistic tendencies. While he deeply loves tormenting others (and not just sexually), it doesn't take much force to get him to bottom. I mean force literally, he gets off on getting beaten up, pushed around, and bullied. This means he ends up fucking Masky a lot because of Masky's bad temper. The two have an... understanding.

(if you're not familiar with the sun, all mentioned characters in this post are over the age of 21 even if I'm not sure of their exact ages)

[mx-3nglish]

Pirates Treasure (Pirate AU) Part 7

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6

Summary: A young pirate captain by the name of Anthony Lockwood manages to stumble across a mermaid. After a while, he starts to get attached to the enchanting creature against his best friend - George Cubbins- advice. As if that wasn’t problem enough, rival pirates want the glory of finding a mermaid all for their own. What is Captain Lockwood going to have to go through to keep the mermaid he calls “Lucy”?

In the end, Captains word is law. Therefore, the mermaid had become a member of the crew. Months were spent teaching Lucy basic language and basic human social aspects (such as wearing cloths). Over time, she became a pirate like the two men who had taught her, along with the occasional help from Skully. It begrudgingly helped her understand basic language and certain reasons why she could and couldn’t do certain things. She became a pretty convincing human. The only thing that differed her was when she came in contact with any form of water. This made storms a big problem.

Over the coarse of these months, George and Lucy had actually formed a mutual friendship. They supplied each other with information. She had told him what he wanted to know about the sea and other potentially real creatures. In return, he told her about the human world and all of its nick knacks. Throughout their social link, they learned a lot about each other and their respective worlds.

Though despite George doing all of the research on her, Lockwood remained the most interested in the now pirate.

Her past, her home, her family, her thoughts, her wishes, her hopes, her likes, her dislikes. The pirate captain wanted to know everything. After all, she wasn’t human.

George’s biggest concern remained that Lucy was charming Lockwood. She was using some sort of magic on him to make him favor her. And more than once had that gotten the two into an argument.

One thing that Lucy knew to be true about her own kind was that her songs were dangerous. If she sang and someone heard it, they would be drawn to her, but only if she sang of something they wished for. For all of this, she never sang. She just didn’t want to risk it. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Lucy sighed, looking at her captain as he ordered the men around the deck. It was dusk and everyone needed to secure the ship before going to bed.

Lockwood was strong, and often helped the men who were having troubles with heavier artillery. With the extra body heat produced and the hotness of summer, he didn’t have his trademark long trench coat on. He wore his light attire; a white, loose-fitting shirt, light fabric paints and his normal boots. His hair was slightly messy, but it never seemed to harm his appearance. He had his sleeves rolled up past his elbows to allow him more mobility, and somehow make him more attractive.

Lucy gazed at the man, admiring him from afar. She just couldn’t deny that this man was beyond handsome. And he was a respectable gentleman, not to mention just how talented he was. And his smile...

His smile had this ability to melt Lucy where she stood. It made her question if he wasn’t some sort of creature rather than a human. But they way the sun seemed to reflect off of his perfect white teeth; they reminded her of pearls. And the way that the rest of his face seemed to just carry on with the smile. His eyes light up and overpower the sun, his pale face makes everything else strangely distant. No matter what, when he smiled, Lucy believed that they could succeed.

Lockwood looked up to her from where he was working. He smiled his dazzling smile and waved at her. Lucy smiled and waved back, her face feeling hotter than before.

“Oh? What’s this?” A raspy whisper called out in her mind. “Could it be you are...”

Lucy looked to the floating decapitated skull in the jar. A ghostly face appeared, overlapping the skull. Lucy looked at it with a baffled expression.

“What are you talking about?” Lucy asked it. The pair were situated on the main deck by the helm. The jar was rested on the railing of the ship while red, pink, orange, green, blue, and purple tints graced Lucys’ form.

It chuckled. “You’re fond of the captain, aren’t you?” Lucys’ cheeks lit up and she scoffed, looking away, muttering insults to it.

“You are! You are! You love the fool, don’t you?” It answered its own question. “Well, you are the only female here, so it doesn't seem like you have any competition.”

“Lucy!” Lockwood called to her. She turned to see him running up to her. When he raised his eyes to her, worry filled the normally happy brown orbs.

“Lucy, are you okay? Do you need water?” He checked.

‘Do you need water’ was code for allowing her some time to just soak in water to let her tail take form. Lucy had stated time and time again that walking, no matter where, felt like she was walking on shards of glass. The pain caused her to barely ever change out of her mermaid form before she was caught. To save her sanity from the pain, Lockwood and George had the code implemented when the pain became to unbearable for her.

“No, I’m fine...” She didn’t want to look at his worried eyes. They would surely make her admit what the skull just told her. She grabbed it off of the ledge and began walking to her quarters. Because she was the only woman on board, she needed a different room away from the men for her to change, sleep, bathe, and soak in.

“Are you sure? You’re red.” He pointed out. “Come on. Perhaps you need to cool off.”

The ghost in her arms chuckled.

“‘Cool off’. Of anything, I think you’re only going to get even more heated up!” It laughed. She ignored it.

“No, I’m fine.” She repeated. He looked at her and relaxed. 

“If you say so.” He placed a hand on her arm, beginning to guide her from the deck. His hand traveled from her arm to her back, gently guiding her aimlessly around the deck. The ghost in her arms traded snarky and very unhelpful comments.

“Oooh, a nice stroll around the ship? Could this be a sort of date?” It snickered. Lucy tried to ignore it.

“We’re going to be arriving at a nearby town in about three months.” He mentioned, making small talk. 

“Town?” He peaked her interest. Of course, it made her slightly nervous. Some humans weren’t as nice as her captain was.

“Have you ever been to a town?” He questioned. She shook her head.

“Aw, poor Lucy. It might be a bit different from life on the ocean. It would be best if you stick close to your boyfriend.” It taunted. She was starting to think it would be best to just toss the jar overboard.

“Then you might want to stick with me. Some men can be quite rude when they see beautiful women.” He smiled at her. She melted before him, his dazzling smile had her almost enchanted.

“Ha! What did I say? Sure you get all pissy with me, but the moment your precious Lockwood says anything-” She had enough of the skulls’ sarcasm. Her face turned sower as she violently began shaking the jar up and down.

“And why don’t you learn to mind your damn business!” She let out a literal growl. Lockwood quickly took the jar from her.

“Luce, calm down! What did it say?” He asked. He didn’t get a coherent response. She was too busy trying to steal the skull back to chuck it overboard.

He gave up trying to figure out what the skull said that made her so mad after a few minutes. Lucy had a bit of a temper on her and it was always best to let her cool off before trying to talk to her again.

“Lucy.” He tried getting her attention, “Why don’t I keep the skull tonight? That way it won’t bother you while you’re trying to sleep.” She growled again while the skull snickered at her. She gave up after trying to jump up to reach the skull a few times and failing miserably. She crossed her arms and let out a huff of air.

“Fine. I’m going to bed then.” She turned briskly and left. For a moment, Lockwood wondered if she was mad at him and not the skull.

He turned the skull to look at him, the ghostly face still very prominent.

“What did you say to her?” He asked. It simply gave him a devious smirk before fading back to wherever the ghost went.

[askullinajar]

A Little Help From Your Friends (Part 5)

T/W: Suicide Mention.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Fic Info: Takes place around 2 years before the events of A Merry Little Christmas. Rating: Mature. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani, others if you squint. Ao3 link: here

Stuck in a jar, longing to get out, longing to live again, the skull never thought there’d be a future where he wished he had just stayed dead.

But maybe all he needed was a helping hand from the people who somehow, against their better judgement, cared. A helping hand from each of them. In turn.

Part 5: Rani

“Ah, Debbie, you’re looking stunning today!”

Deborah looked up from her desk. A middle-aged police officer with dark skin, wild hair, and broad shoulders. She looked at Skully, from his bruised cheek to the red-faced McGuire who was gripping his upper-arm so he wouldn’t run. She smiled.

“Not, looking too bad yourself, Jim. Take a seat. What’s the story this time?”

“You know me, Deb,” he said, slouching in the chair as soon as McGuire released his arm.

“Wrong place, wrong time?”

“Exactly.”

She flicked open the file McGuire had passed her. “And you just happened to stumble on some unconscious men?”

“Yep.”

“Any reason you were in the area?”

Skully hummed, thoughtfully. “I do remember hearing a girl scream…”

“Uh huh,” said Debbie, scribbling something down. “And you definitely did not attack these men for trying to hurt this girl?”

“I definitely did not, no.”

Debbie put down her pen and turned to face him, propping her head up on her hand. “Is this anything like the time you definitely did not assault that police officer for beating on a homeless boy?”

“Quite like that time, yes,” said Skully, inspecting his nails nonchalantly. “Nothing to do with it. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“I see,” said Debbie. She paused as McGuire, still stood guard, got something through on his radio.

“The men are awake,” he told her. “They say two people attacked them.”

Debbie frowned. “Two?”

“A man and a woman,” McGuire affirmed.

Debbie gave Skully a thoughtful look. Then she stood and grabbed her bag and coat. “Come on. Let’s go see if any of these men recognise you. McGuire.” She turned to the young officer. “Go fetch DI Malik-Munro. Tell her to meet us at the hospital in about half an hour.”

McGuire nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Debbie made sure he ran off in the right direction, then lead Skully outside towards her car. Technically, this was against protocol, Skully knew. But he figured Debbie was so used to him by now, she’d rather just get everything over with.

They arrived in only a few minutes and were lead to a ward where the four men were all handcuffed to beds, side-by-side. Good, Skully thought, that should make things much easier.

“What do we need to be cuffed for?!” the lead guy was growling to an officer. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Sir,” she replied, calmly, “this is just protocol until everything is sorted out.”

“It’s ridiculous is what it is!”

Over in the doorway, Debbie coughed to alert them of her presence.

The younger officer turned to her. “Ma’am, what are you–?”

“It’s alright, Daisy,” said Debbie. “I know what I’m doing.” She took Skully’s elbow and lead him into the room. “Gentlemen,” she said, “is this one of the people who attacked you?”

The men turned to Skully, their expressions turned to fury in recognition. The leader opened his mouth to speak… Then his face went slack. He frowned, confused.

“No,” he said.

Debbie frowned. “Excuse me?”

The other men shook their heads too.

“No,” the leader repeated.

“Then can you describe who attacked you?” said Debbie.

The burly man spoke up, then. “We did.”

“Excuse me?” Debbie repeated.

“We couldn’t decide,” said the wiry man, “which one of us should get the girl first.”

“So, we got into a fight,” the final man finished.

Debbie’s expression turned dark. “And this girl? Was she consenting?”

There was a pause, then, “No.”

“Tsk, tsk, gentlemen,” said Skully. “Did no one ever tell you, no means no.���

“No means no,” the men repeated, in unison.

“Daisy,” said Debbie. “Arrest these men.” Then she led Skully back out of the room.

She took him down to the café and bought them both a coffee, then she sat them both down at a table and frowned at him over her cup.

“How do you do that?” she said.

He feigned ignorance. “Do what?”

She just rolled her eyes and sipped on her coffee.

Skully sipped his too, then paused to pile some more sugar in. His powers did have their perks. Most ghosts could only fog a person’s head with Malaise or Creeping Fear, but he could freely tap into that power. Just make a person a little confused, and make them too scared to testify against him, and he could get them to say pretty much anything he wanted. Put a little more fear behind his commands, and they’d never so much as look at another girl the wrong way again. All in a day’s work.

A shadow fell over the table. Skully looked up and smiled. “Hey, Rani!”

“James,” said Rani, coldly.

“Uh oh,” said Debbie. “She’s mad at you.”

“I’ll take it from here, thanks, Deb,” said Rani, taking Skully’s arm and pulling him out of his chair. “Let’s go.”

“What did I do?!” he whined as Rani dragged him from the building.

“You know exactly what you did!” Rani scolded. “Holly’s been worried sick, not knowing where you were. And where do you turn up? By a pile of unconscious men you beat bloody!”

“Hey!” he said. “It has already been established that I am innocent!”

“And how did you get them to establish that?”

They stood by Rani’s car for a moment, glaring at each other, then Rani threw open the passenger door before rounding the car to the driver’s side. “In.”

Skully obeyed and slipped into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him.

Rani angrily shoved her key in the ignition and started the car, pulling out of the space and towards the road. “Why are you incapable of going anywhere without making a mess for yourself?”

“They were fucking rapists!” Skully cried. “I wasn’t just gonna stand by and let it happen!”

“There are other ways to go about things!”

“Sure there are,” said Skully. “Be glad I didn’t kill them. That would have stopped them for good.”

Rani went silent for a moment, and when she spoke her voice was quieter, “Have you… have you ever killed anyone?”

Skully stared out of the window. “No.”

“You paused.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did!” Rani insisted. “When? How many?”

“Look,” said Skully, “I have never hidden the fact that I wasn’t exactly the nicest guy before I died.”

“But we thought you were joking!” Rani cried. “That you just had a dark sense of humour!”

“I do have a dark sense of humour,” Skully agreed. He paused. “Okay, I can see where the confusion might come from.”

“Holy crap, you actually murdered people.” Suddenly, her eyes grew wide. “Please tell me you weren’t Jack the Ripper.”

“Christ!” he exclaimed. “I’m not some vain arsehole who kills women and brags about it!”

“What do you expect me to think?!” said Rani. “Jack can be short for James!”

“Well,” said Skully, “that was his name.”

Rani paused. “And how do you know that?”

Skully said nothing.

“Oh, my…” Rani started. “Holy… You killed him! You actually killed him, didn’t you?!”

“Okay, look,” said Skully, “Bickerstaff needed Sources. And when there weren’t enough, I made a few extra. Serial killers make the strongest ghosts!”

“How many?” said Rani. “How many people did you kill?”

Skully turned back to the window, watching the cars go by. He imagined one of them swerving towards him, crashing into the passenger side, ending it all so he wouldn’t have to continue this conversation. Then he mentally scolded himself. A crash like that would hurt Rani.

“I didn’t exactly count,” he forced out.

“And were they all murderers?” Rani asked.

Skully shrugged. “Some were old men who looked at my sisters the wrong way.”

Rani didn’t speak. He glanced back at her. Her knuckles had gone white as they squeezed the steering wheel too hard.

“I haven’t killed anyone since I got put in that stupid jar,” he added.

“Thanks!” said Rani. “That makes me feel so much better!”

“And, you know, if I brought him back Sources, Bickerstaff wouldn’t beat me.”

Rani glanced over at him. “Are you seriously trying to get sympathy right now?”

“…Maybe.” Rani just shook her head. “Don’t tell Lucy about this,” he added. “She still has a deluded idea that I’m actually a good person, deep down.”

Rani sighed. “You are a good person, Skull. A good person who’s done awful things. Because people can change, you know. You’ve changed.” She looked over at him for a second before turning back to the road. “You really haven’t killed anyone since then? And only hurt people in defence of others?”

“…Yeah.”

Rani smiled. “Well, there you go. Maybe you were a bad person once, but not anymore. And, don’t worry, I won’t tell Lucy.”

Skully returned the smile. “Thanks, Rani.”

Previous Next

[jacensolodjo]

Face and Head Hair Care Especially For Drier Months

(Note: I purposely made facial hair care as gender neutral as possible. Not only men have facial hair. End of discussion. If you intend to clown around about this you will be blocked.)

If you’re looking for shaving tips, please check this post.

First of all, a tip for all seasons: STOP USING YOUR TOWEL TO DRY YOUR HAIR AND ALSO STAY AWAY FROM HAIR DRYERS.

“But, Jacen, how will I dry my hair then?”

Oh dear friends, anything that is more of a smoother cotton such as an old (clean, unused) t-shirt must be used especially for the hair on the top of your head. Towels, despite also being cotton, tend to snag and tug on your hair especially if you have curly hair. I know it sounds weird “yeah I dry my hair with an old t-shirt”, but it makes a big difference. Try it for a couple of weeks then try going back to the towel and see how you, or at least your hair, feel.

Hair dryers it should be obvious, your hair does not like the extreme heat. It turns your hair brittle and limp. Yes, it’s generally faster but should you really be sacrificing your hair like this when you can just get your shower/bath done earlier and thus can get to drying your hair sooner?

Another option, of course, is the air drying. You just let your hair do its thing as time goes on. But this tends to only work for straighter, thinner hair. Those of us with thicker, curlier hair it takes far too long to air dry and if it’s dripping down into your ears this can cause ear problems. And since we’re talking about drier, cooler months such as fall and winter, it’s just not a good idea to go around with your hair wet. 

Now for one of the most controversial topics in hair care: what products to use and how often.

While there is not one true product, one true schedule for hair washing, here are some tips that I use myself and get rather happy hair for the trouble.

First of all, you should not be washing your hair every day. A good rule of thumb is only 3x a week. Many suggest you only use actual hair wash once a week then use conditioner 2x a week instead. I wash 3x a week and condition at the same time but that’s mainly because that’s the schedule that works for me (pain and mental status willing). You might find a completely different schedule! But it is definitely advised not to wash your hair every day. You can rinse it out, of course. Some people actually don’t ever use hair wash on a schedule basis (only washing if the hair really really needs it), they let their hair’s natural oils do the legwork and rinse their hair every time they take their shower/bath. I have no real opinion on that. If that works for you? Cool. Bear in mind this kind of schedule is not a firm absolute and you should totally be fine if you have to skip some days of course! Or if you feel like you’re getting extra icky (such as doing a lot of exercise or w/e) obviously you should wash more if you’re getting dirty more often. Nothing says if you skip a day your hair will instantly go sad, is what I’m saying. 

As for product, you love your hair right? So why in the world are you using 2-in-1 shampoo & conditioner? I know, I know, it’s a timing thing as it’s so much faster to just dump on the 2-in-1. And I know especially for men that there’s the (toxic) masculinity idea that taking care of your hair (and skin etc.,) is bad, that men don’t do that (please free yourself of this mindset). Then there’s the other idea of how it’s much more cost effective to do a 2-in-1. I get it. I do. And honestly if the 2-in-1 is the only thing you can afford then definitely, do what makes sense for your budget. But if you can swing it, get a good shampoo and conditioner that is properly formulated for your hair (aka no parabens, no sulfates, etc.,). Companies like Scotch Porter (which I use for my hair care and if it is important to you they are black owned), are both cost effective and give you products that won’t destroy your hair (and they take into consideration hair that is curly as a default but that doesn’t mean those with straight and/or thin hair can’t use it! It’s good for all hair types but especially good for thick, curly hair). 

There are extra products you can use where cleanliness is concerned, like leave-in conditioner. You can also use what is called hair serum which works to keep your hair happy and shiny and far more manageable than what just conditioner can do. I won’t be getting into the whole pomade, gel, etc., for styling your hair though. Maybe in a different post. Just remember: do not leave that stuff in your hair especially overnight! It basically suffocates your hair as well as attracts a lot of ickyness throughout the day and traps it on your poor hair. So be sure to use water based pomade etc., as much as you can so you can easily rinse it out in your sink etc., Just get that gunk out of your hair before you go to sleep.

Now for facial hair! Like your head hair, facial hair care is on the rise and is now a billion dollar industry. Which means you have a lot to choose from. But the main team you want for your facial hair is: beard wash, beard conditioner, beard oil, and beard balm. There is also beard serum which does the same kinda thing hair serum does but, obviously, for your facial hair.

The same general rule of thumb for beard wash/conditioner is what you expect from head hair (no parabens, sulfates, etc.,). But with the additional requirements of things like tea tree oil and lavender oil, almond oil, jojoba oil. Then the beard conditioner is used to keep your hair soft and manageable and silky. It often has stuff like the beard wash itself with added things like: Vitamin B, amino acids, and shea butter. Scotch Porter has the wash/conditioner as well as places like Monster Flesh & Mane. As for timing, it is actually considered good form to wash your facial hair as often as your face. This is obviously because your facial hair can collect a lot of gunk such as food particles. And no one wants to deal with a stinky beard. Since you will also be washing your face, the order should be: facial cleanser (like an exfoliating kinda thing but dont use exfoliating products more than 2x a week), face wash, beard wash, beard conditioner, then beard oil, beard balm. Beard serum can be done optionally after all your other products.

Next up is beard oil. Out of any other product you can use for your facial hair (or even your head hair), the beard oil is a giant industry full of choices in not only ingredients but scent as well. Because it is such a giant pool to choose from, I can’t possibly list out all the different places. If you google for it, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of places that I don’t even know about. Monster has a good collection, as well as places like Skully’s Beard Oil and Badass Beard Care. Etsy also has a huge number of purveyors of oil. I personally have some oil from Monster, some from Skully’s, some from Badass, and some from Texas Beard Company. It all depends on the scent as well as price point. 

The most important thing even more than finding scents that you like and work with your body chemistry is what the beard oil is made with. You want things like argan oil, jojoba oil, tea tree, almond oil, and lavender oil. And again, stay away from the parabens, sulfates, etc.,

Once you put the beard oil on, you can style as you like but then you can also add on the beard balm. The balm is basically a seal for the oil to keep your hair happy and healthy. However, it doesn’t damage or suffocate like pomades. It isn’t an absolute necessity though. I don’t use it very often on top of my oil especially if I want a different beard oil scent from what I have in balm form (some companies like Monster offer the oil and balm in the same scent but other places don’t). Another thing to note is that you don’t need to put the oil on only after bathing. You can even put some on as you’re heading off to sleep. Because of its nature, it isn’t something you need to wash out. Just be sure not to put on too much. You should only put enough in your hand that once you distribute it on your facial hair your hands look almost dry and your beard should not be dripping with oil. This can be a lot of trial and error to see how much your hair needs. But don’t worry, you’ll get there! As for distribution, you should massage the oil in from root to tips and rub into the skin as well. some say to use oil twice a day, some even say 3. It depends on how quickly your beard seems to dry out throughout the day. You can even just decide to do it once and move on. No right or wrong so long as you follow the guidelines about the application mentioned above.

On to brushes. For head hair brushes first of all: no brushes!!! What you want my dears, is a comb. One with moderately wide spacing. Especially if you have curly hair, a brush will simply create a bunch of static and strip your hair of necessary oils and such. If you have been wondering why your hair is always turning into a puffball from styling your hair, it is the brush doing it. That isn't to say your hair doesn’t poof on its own of course. But the brush doesn’t tame anything it just exacerbates. It may be fine on thinner hair, but it will generate static all the same. This also applies to anything plastic, especially combs. Your best bet is either a wood or metal comb. I have both, it just depends on preference. Plus, wood is more eco friendly while metal is more pocketbook friendly in the long run. As with everything else in this post, if you can swing the splurge then do it but if not, don’t feel bad! The purpose here is ideas and experiments. Not absolutely telling you to shell out a bunch of money on hair care. And if you can only do it in pieces, that’s cool too! If you can afford the comb now but not the product, at least you’re halfway to happier hair. 

The not using a brush thing doesn’t fully hold true for your facial hair. You can often use a beard brush for actually spreading out the oils you may put into your hair. As well as styling. However, the most common thing of course is a beard comb. Often they have two sides, one with finer teeth the other end with wider. This is mainly for both detangling and styling in one comb. But be careful about the detangling, you don’t want to pull your hair out or break it at the point of the knot. So be sparing with the fine tooth comb. It is meant more for styling anyways. When it comes to detangling, you need to go slow and gentle. Focus on just the knotted area and you can even use things like hair conditioner or the beard oils if it is your facial hair. Just put some on the area and work it through still slow and gentle. Don't rush, you will only harm your hair and the skin around the roots. 

Now, you can also use a thing for when your hair starts growing back but it is that rough prickly scruff kinda thing that gives people 'beard burn' when they touch the area or someone else does. It is basically like sandpaper but with a softer grit that is meant to only affect the prickly hairs not your skin. One such product comes from The Soft Goat. It is labelled as a 'beard softener' though you should not apply it to your actual beard, only scruff. Be sure to follow the directions that come with the box (circular rubbing and not too hard). (They also now have one marketed "for women" for softening the shaved leg area. Obviously I don’t believe only women can gain use out of it, but everyone who shaves that kinda area.)

With all that said, the main thing to remember about drier months is this means you need to up your use of things like conditioner and beard oil/balm tag team. So if you’re only using balm/oil 2x a day you may need to up to 3 in the fall/winter months. This ensures your hair will still look just as happy in the winter as it does in the summer. There is no reason to stop keeping your hair happy in the winter. You also may notice your hair isn't growing as fast in the drier months, this is normal and nothing to worry about where age or whatever is concerned. Everything on your body grows slower in fall and winter especially head and face hair and nails. Your body will be far more concerned with your stored energy going to powering other parts of you than your hair and nails during the drier months. Not to mention the production of the hormones and such that dictate hair/nail growth do not get produced as much, again because you have other hormones to keep up with more.

At the end of the day, though, your routine may not be exactly like someone else’s. My tips are honestly mere suggestions of things to try. The only things that really should be universal is that you shouldn’t wash your hair every day (much less all of you), don't dry your hair with a towel, keep your schedule as consistent as possible with some minor seasonal changes, and you should keep away from things like parabens and sulfates. 

[musical--llama]

I take a deep breath. In... And out... The trees of Rosswood park loom over me menacingly, as if daring me to enter. Adjusting my bag around my shoulders, I angle my camera towards my face, hitting record.

"Hey there peeps, creeps, and eldritch freaks! It's Julie, and today I am at Rosswood park, as promised, doing my most dangerous hunt yet. Local legend, the cryptic Skull Man." My heart thumps with fear of what I might find tonight. "The Skull Man is known to wander the forest, preying on unsuspecting hikers. Many urban legends have formed around him, theories on who, or what, he is."

My footsteps crunch from fallen leaves on the path below me, the camera my only company. The sun setting behind me would be beautiful, if it wasn't for what might be waiting for me in the dark.

"Authorities have never found trace of him, other than the people that occasionally claim to have been attacked or scared away from him. Most victim stories contain reoccurring details, such as missing cellphones and a man wearing a mask losely resembling a skull."

I stop walking, reaching a split in the path. Left and right. I guess this is as good a place as any.

"This is where I leave the path behind. All I have with me is supplies for the night. Food, water, flashlight, batteries. The only weapon I have is my knife, and at this point I don't know if I want to be in a situation that causes me to need it." I turn to the forest, hesitating for just a moment. But I promised this. No going back now.

                                                                          Silence. It has been silent for a while now. I'm starting to calm down, figuring I should try and find a place to rest for a bit. I've been walking for at least three hours. I internally groan as I realize what a pain this will be to edit, with so many blank spots.

That's when I hear it.

A snap, like a twig breaking, leaves scattering. A footstep.

I point my camera at the source of the sound, flashlight showing me nothing as I strain to see. I glance at the screen to check if it's getting anything. Too much glare. I flip on the night vision option, my favorite feature, shutting off my light, seeing everything change to green.

Just as I do, I'm tackled from behind, camera flying out of my hand, face pressing into the ground, the cold wet leaves and dirt. I barely have time to scream before something hits the back of my head, a spike of pain before everything fades into nothingness.

                                                                           Cold. Grass. Dirt.

I'm outside. Why am I outside?

I was on a crypted hunt, and then...

I bolt up, looking around. I'm outside Rosswood forest, and it's daytime. My backpack is nowhere in sight, meaning my phone was also gone. But oddly enough, my camera lies a few feet from me, seemingly unharmed. I scoop it up, examining it.

Unharmed, except for a small mark scratched into the side.

(Insert OX here)

I turn it on, checking it over. Functioning fine. Full battery, somehow. All of my clips are still there, including the ones from last night. I select the most recent one, filmed around 11pm. I press play, fast forwarding to just before where I heard the sound.

A flick of static crosses the screen as it points off into the forest, my flashlight partially blinding it. Then the light gets brighter as I flicked on the night vision, before I turned the light off. I wince as I get tackled, the screen only showing the forest floor. A second later, there is a thump, and quiet once more.

Then the camera is picked up.

Being examined by my attacker.

A man in a skull mask.

                                                                           I trek through the forest once more. I don't want to, but this could put my channel on the map. Not to mention that I wanted my phone, which has a lot of personal data, back.

I reach the area from the night before, crouching down. No blood on the ground, but the leaves were all shaken up, probably from where I landed. I look around.

How do I track again?

I start following the more disturbed areas of leaves, thankful for the wilting of trees that comes with Autumn. I move quietly, just in case someone is listening, not expecting to be the one to hear someone.

"Jay! Jay where are you?" A man shouts.

I dive behind a bush, looking for who yelled. There, walking towards the old shed I had been about to explore, was a man in a mask.

Not a mask like the Skull Man, but a different one. This one was like a porcelain doll, black lips and thick black points like eyeliner on the eyes, with thin, arched eyebrows, their only similarity. He wears tan jacket and jeans, as opposed to the Skull Man, who wore a hoodie.

"Jay! Come on!" He keeps walking towards the shed, not really bothering to be quiet. "Jay! Jaybird! Skully!"

"You called?" The Skull Man jumps down from a low branch, crouching as he lands. I turn my camera to him, filming the exchange.

"How long did it take you to get that to work?"

"A few weeks."

The Skull Man, Skully, approaches him. If I have to guess, he sounds amused.

"Where's Hoods? Isn't it time for a change?"

"He's not here. You get me instead."

"What?" The Skull Man sounds almost offended. "That's like replacing a rabbit with a racoon."

"You love both of those animals. I don't see what you're trying to say." As he speaks, the Masked Man unravels a roll of bandages he pulled from his pocket.

"You know damn well what I'm trying to say."

"You're impossible. Just let me change your bandages so I can get out of here." The Masked Man scoffs. I can practically hear the eye roll.

"You know you love me." The Skull Man teases. He grabs the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it up over his head, revealing a bandaged chest. The bandages have a large red stain on one side, and my stomach flips as I think of what it probably is.

I watch, camera pointing as the Masked Man unwrap the bandages of the Skull Man, who's sitting on a tree stump now. I stifle a gasp as a wound is revealed, bright red and infected looking. Blood leaks from it, running down his stomach where it's wiped away. Water is poured over the wound, washing away the blood for the moment. The Masked Man starts wrapping the bandages back around the Skull Man's chest, causing him to shift uncomfortably.

I can understand why. That injury looks painful.

"Sit still." The Masked Man commands. He continues to wrap the bandages.

"You're doing them too tight."

"No I'm not. Sit still, Jay."

"Hoodie is better at this." Skull Man grumbles, crossing his arms. He has them quickly uncrossed again by the Masked Man. "Stop pulling them so tight! I can't breathe!"

"You don't breathe." He pins the bandages, snipping off a bit of extra. What does that mean?

"Doesn't mean it's comfortable."

"I'm not a doctor, Jaybird."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT! JAY IS DEAD!" The Skull Man yells suddenly, standing up confrontationally. "Why can't you just accept that!? Surely you've seen the shot enough times to know that he's gone!" 

The Masked Man is silent. They both stare at each other in a moment of tense silence, not moving. I continue to film, barely breathing as I watch.

"I'm leaving." The Skull Man turns, scooping up his hoodie and pulling it over his head as he starts walking away. I turn my camrea to follow him as he leaves, shifting to get a better angle.

Snap.

I freeze in horror as the bush branch snaps. The two masked people's heads turn towards me, or more, the general direction of me.

"What was that?"

[agladman]

So here we are in early December, the run-up to Christmas firmly in our sights. Perhaps you’ve started working your way through a beer advent calendar. A seasonal selection of 12 or more often 24 beers selected to keep you sudsy throughout December – what could be more fun? From a punter’s POV these boxes can be a good way to try new beers, and ensure you have enough supplies to drink in the comfort of your home as the evenings outside become increasingly cold, dark and miserable.

Bo Selecta

Essentially you’re putting your drinking choices into someone else’s hands in the hope that they can do a better job than you, with access to better beers and all the advantages of working in the trade.

In this season awash with booze the selection has to feel special. This presents a challenge for the person putting the selection together. You want the box to feel Christmassy, but you need to keep it varied. Not many people will want to work their way through 24 dark spiced ales.

You need the big hitters in these boxes. But these big star boozy beers will be subject to huge competition at the wholesale end of things. Our fireside treats come at a cost and this must be balanced out by the inclusion of less adventurous beers. The risk is that these feel like filler tracks on a lacklustre album.

It’s a pretty common complaint in fact.

Just hook me straight up to the brewery!

You can get advent calendars directly from breweries. To me this misses the point. You’ll be drinking a limited offering in a format designed to feature variety and exploration. Why do it?

Just look at this 2017 offering from Beavertown. Maybe it floats your boat. Maybe you just can’t get enough of those skully beers. For me, I have to say, it just looks dead boring.

Click to embiggen

Opening Pandora’s box

What I’m not going to do here is bring you a round up of all the beer advent calendars out there. For one thing, it’s already been done pretty well elsewhere. For example, Chris Martin has put together a nice round-up over on his blog Alcohol By Volume. And over on Google Drive, this spreadsheet gives good details of what was in some calendars from 2016 and 2017.

Side note: if you want to consider advent calendars based on other boozes, check out this article in the Independent.

Instead let’s explore all of these issues in microcosm by examining one of the big boys on the advent calendar scene, Honest Brew.

Honest Brew have decided to package this selection as an actual advent calendar. This looks like a nice idea in the marketing photo but think about your actual house for a moment, and now think about your actual house with that box in it. Where are you going to put it? I don’t know, perhaps you have a bigger house than me. I’d have a hard time finding room to keep this box out on display.

Now consider that some of those beers will want chilling. There’s no indication which though, because each beer is hidden away behind it’s little door. You can’t put the whole thing in the fridge. So what to do? Open the door in the morning just in case you need to chill your beer for later? Open the door in the evening and make do with a quick – and therefore subpar – half hour in the freezer to cool it down? Or just drink the beer warm? Perhaps you’ve got a chilly shed or garage where you can store this, in which case that might do. But for the rest of us this presents a bit of a challenge. And yet Honest Brew use the fact that it’s stored cold at their end as a selling point… Someone somewhere hasn’t thought this all the way through.

  I’m not saying all this to pick on Honest Brew in particular. I’m sure the same things will be true of lots of advent calendars out there. These are just the limitations of the format.

Now let’s move on to the contents. I’m not going to give you all the details – google exists, people – but having glanced over them myself here are a couple of thoughts.

For the base offering, close to £70 will get you what looks to be a decent mix of breweries and styles. Some of the names that catch my eye here are Azimut and Popihn (both from France), the Garden Brewery (Croatia), Edge (Spain), and from the UK Burning Sky, Buxton and Cloudwater.

Or you could splash out £140 on the Ultimate Advent Calendar. This will bring you beers from plenty of interesting breweries. I’d have my eye on the ones from Verdant, Lervig (Norway), CR/AK (Italy), Stillwater (USA), Puhaste (Estonia), Schneider Weisse (Germany) and from the UK Verdant, Wander Beyond and Wylam. The box also promises “1 more big name to be revealed”. Are you excited now? Hm. Me either.

But to be fair, the list of styles in there looks good too. Among others you can expect a blueberry sour, a brut IPA (come on, it’s 2018 after all), a doppelbock (Schneider Weiss no doubt), a mixed fermentation sour, and a salted caramel wee heavy – how excellent does that sound? You will also get some bourbon barrel aged stouts; in particular two imperial versions, one cinnamon and one raspberry. I’d put money on at least one of these being from Lervig.

Before you get too excited, just remember this little caveat.

Beers subject to change due to: beer availability, mini tornadoes, a light flurry of snow or power outages.

Not everyone has been thrilled by their past offerings either.

To add context, here are details of their past offerings.

Honest Brew’s 2016 base box

Honest Brew’s 2017 base and ultimate boxes

These look pretty decent. I’m medium-whelmed by last year’s base level box. The ultimate one looks better – really quite good in fact. But the price is a bit steep. For comparison, here’s the same year’s offering from Hop Burns & Black, which I feel measures up pretty well against it for about £35 less. (They’re doing one again this year but if you haven’t ordered already then you’re out of luck – they’re all sold out.)

Click to embiggen

How to do better

One way is to stop outsourcing your drinking decisions. If you buy your own you can be sure you’ll like it. And if you have an understanding friend or partner you can even keep a little element of surprise.

And certainly there’s scope for some enterprising person to make these selections really special.

To give Honest Brew some credit, this does seem to be a direction they’ve headed in this year. As I noted above, there are some interesting looking foreign breweries listed in both their basic and their premium selections. Fair play.

Boxes like this represent extra work for bottle shops: putting the selection together, the associated sales effort, the packing and shipping. Margins on these boxes can end up tighter than you’d think – all the beers ordered in on top of the usual inventory might necessitate hiring extra storage space or employing some extra hands to get the boxes out on time.

So why do shops do it? The sales are obviously important – no one would do it if they couldn’t expect to make at least a small profit out of it. But there are other intangible benefits too. Reaching new customers, for instance. Or raising their profile generally. For those who’ve done calendars in past years, it can become a case of maintaining their position within the marketplace.

Pressure to drink

I’ve saved this until last. It’s the most common complaint about these beery advent calendars, and the reason I generally don’t bother with them myself. As I’ve already mentioned, this end of the year is pretty awash with booze already. There are office parties. There’s catching up with mates you haven’t seen for longer than you’d like. There’s a general culture of indulgence and partying and getting through the bleakness of a northern European winter using self medication. It’s not like we need any more pressure to drink. In this context, taking delivery of a hefty whack of beer with the expectation that you’ll get through one a day might not be the best idea.

Your turn

Have you had a beer advent calendar before? If so, which one and what did you think of it? Tell me in the comments below.

NEW ON THE BLOG Unpacking beery advent calendars. Have you just started working through one of these? Here are some thoughts on these seasonal selections. So here we are in early December, the run-up to Christmas firmly in our sights. Perhaps you've started working your way through a beer advent calendar.

[askullinajar]

A Little Help From Your Friends (Part 3)

T/W: Suicide Mention.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Fic Info: Takes place around 2 years before the events of A Merry Little Christmas. Rating: Mature. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani, others if you squint. Ao3 link: here

Stuck in a jar, longing to get out, longing to live again, the skull never thought there’d be a future where he wished he had just stayed dead.

But maybe all he needed was a helping hand from the people who somehow, against their better judgement, cared. A helping hand from each of them. In turn.

Part 3: Lucy

The hospital allowed Skully to be discharged early, under the promise that he was not to be left alone.

The drive home was short and quiet. Lucy still hadn’t uttered a word. Skully sat in the back and stared out of the window, watching the buildings pass by but not really seeing them. The whole world seemed out of focus. A grey haze.

Lockwood tried to persuade him to go back to Portland Row, but Skully just wanted to be back at his flat, as empty as it was.

The whole place stank of disinfectant when they got there. And hydrogen peroxide. Perfect for mopping up blood.

George, Quill and Holly were there. They had obviously done the cleaning, though it seemed George hadn’t had time to change his shirt; the sleeves were stained red, the rest covered in spatters. Remnants of having to haul Skully out of the tub.

Lucy and Lockwood had gone in ahead of Skully and were now talking in hushed undertones to the others. They glanced up as Skully walked in. He didn’t bother to say hello.

He walked over to the bathroom where the tiles had been bleached white and the bathtub was probably cleaner than it had been in weeks. Idly, he opened the medicine cabinet. It had been cleared of everything but extra toothpaste. The razors were gone, too. How was he going to shave?

The others were still busy whispering rapidly, so he wandered over to the kitchen, and then to his bedroom. Most cutlery and kitchen utensils had been cleared out, as well as the cleaning products usually tucked beneath the sink. The two sharp daggers he kept hidden in his room were gone. Those had been expensive, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care too much.

He moved back into the living room and stood, staring at the others until they quit their muttering and looked up.

Lockwood cleared his throat. “Look, Skull, we can’t exactly leave you on your own for a while, so Lucy and I are gonna stay here, okay?”

Skully just shrugged.

“Right,” said Holly, gathering her coat. “We’ll just… go.”

Quill and George followed her lead. As they passed Skully, Holly paused, then leaned up and kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his upper arm before making to leave with the boys.

Skully watched them go for a moment. He told himself not to say anything. His mouth disobeyed.

“Hey, Cubbins?” George stopped and turned back to him. Skully smiled at him. “Let me die next time.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucy flinch. Why was he like this?

George’s expression had turned dark. When he spoke, his voice was soft and cold as ice, the mark that he was truly angry. “There better not be a next time.”

Skully gave him a loose grin this time, giving no reaction to George’s tone. He couldn’t stop himself. Why did he have such an incessant need to make everyone hate him?  “What ya gonna do? Kill me?”

George looked like he was about to say something else, but Holly put a hand on his arm.

“Let’s just go,” said Quill, softly.

The door shut behind them. Skully walked back to his room and collapsed on his bed.

The bedroom door opened a few moments later, and Lucy walked in. Just Lucy. She walked over and lay on the bed next to him.

“Any reason you’re not talking to me?” Skully said though he knew the answer.

Lucy remained silent for a moment, then, “I’m kinda pissed at you, actually.”

Skully tilted his head towards her and raised an eyebrow. That hadn’t quite been the answer he’d expected. He thought she’d go all sad and sympathetic on him. Somehow, he was glad she didn’t.

“Remember years ago,” said Lucy, “when I said if you did anything suicidal I’d kill you?”

“Don’t take it back now,” said Skully. “I’m counting on you to finish the job.”

She turned her head to him and scowled. “Don’t say things like that.”

“I’m always saying things like that.”

“It’s not the same!” Lucy stressed. “You were never being serious! I never thought you were, at least.”

“I wasn’t,” said Skully.

“And now?”

He didn’t answer.

“Look,” said Lucy. “I’m not gonna sugar-coat it. The world is just one big shit-hole. And the ghost-hunting generation is the generation of mental illness, high suicide rates, and drug-abuse.” She turned to look at him again. “But you don’t have to be like that. I know your mental health isn’t something you can choose, trust me I know. But you have so many people who are here for you. We love you so much.”

And maybe that hit a soft spot in his chest, just a little bit.

“I love you, too,” he said. “No hetero.”

She snorted at that. Her first genuine smile all day. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Hey! I just tried to kill myself, you’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“Nah, that’s just physically impossible.” She picked at her nails for a moment, then, “You used to want to live so much you refused to move on. You came back as a Type 3. What happened?”

Skully sighed. He was still so tired, and there were so many things jumbled together in his mess of a head that it was hard to come up with just one explanation, but Lucy deserved something at least.

“I’ve told you once before,” he started, “when you’re dead you sort of lose a part of who you are. Things become hazy. I really did forget my name for a while. I forgot a lot of things. Like why I wanted to hang onto life in the first place. But I knew I had a good reason, so I kept going. I figured it’d come back to me eventually, and it’d all be worth it.

“Then I got what I wanted. I got brought back to life. And I remembered everything. I remembered why I hung on.” He stopped for a moment. Swallowed. His mouth felt so dry. “My family,” he continued. “My siblings… they needed me. But, they were already dead and gone by the time I got my life back. And everything just seemed so… pointless. Everything I held on for, my entire reason for living, long gone.”

There was a long stretch of silence.

“I’m so sorry, Skully,” Lucy said, at last.

“No worries,” he said, attempting to give her a smile. “Annoying you kept me going for quite a while.”

“I’m glad,” said Lucy. “I’m just sad it didn’t keep you going a little longer.”

There was a pause, then suddenly she grasped his hand and held it tightly. “This might be the worst you’ve ever felt, but it’ll get better. And maybe it’ll get worse before then, but it will always get better. You just have to keep trying until then, okay? Promise me you’ll keep trying.”

He stared at her. Her furrowed brow, her wide, pleading eyes, and the huge dark bags beneath them.

He could hear Lockwood clanging about in the kitchen, attempting to make dinner without any utensils and all the while being exhausted from jet lag; he and Lucy had taken the first flight home as soon as they heard.

He could still smell disinfectant wafting from the bathroom, where George, Holly and Quill had spent all day scrubbing the surfaces, so he wouldn’t have to come home to blood stains. And then they’d painstakingly searched the flat, ridding it of anything he could do himself harm with.

A lot of what kept people going was a fear of the unknown. Of what awaited them after death. But Skully wasn’t afraid. He’d already seen it once. And he missed it.

But there was no coming back after that. Not a second time, anyway. And these people he had unwittingly befriended, the fact of the matter was that they’d be distraught if he died. And maybe once he wouldn’t have cared, but all that had changed. All thanks to a girl who could talk to the dead.

“Okay,” he said, at last. “I’ll keep trying.”

For them.

For her.

Previous Next

[musical--llama]

I take a deep breath. In... And out... The trees of Rosswood park loom over me menacingly, as if daring me to enter. Adjusting my bag around my shoulders, I angle my camera towards my face, hitting record.

"Hey there peeps, creeps, and eldritch freaks! It's Julie, and today I am at Rosswood park, as promised, doing my most dangerous hunt yet. Local legend, the cryptic Skull Man." My heart thumps with fear of what I might find tonight. "The Skull Man is known to wander the forest, preying on unsuspecting hikers. Many urban legends have formed around him, theories on who, or what, he is."

My footsteps crunch from fallen leaves on the path below me, the camera my only company. The sun setting behind me would be beautiful, if it wasn't for what might be waiting for me in the dark.

"Authorities have never found trace of him, other than the people that occasionally claim to have been attacked or scared away from him. Most victim stories contain reoccurring details, such as missing cellphones and a man wearing a mask losely resembling a skull."

I stop walking, reaching a split in the path. Left and right. I guess this is as good a place as any.

"This is where I leave the path behind. All I have with me is supplies for the night. Food, water, flashlight, batteries. The only weapon I have is my knife, and at this point I don't know if I want to be in a situation that causes me to need it." I turn to the forest, hesitating for just a moment. But I promised this. No going back now.

                                                                          Silence. It has been silent for a while now. I'm starting to calm down, figuring I should try and find a place to rest for a bit. I've been walking for at least three hours. I internally groan as I realize what a pain this will be to edit, with so many blank spots.

That's when I hear it.

A snap, like a twig breaking, leaves scattering. A footstep.

I point my camera at the source of the sound, flashlight showing me nothing as I strain to see. I glance at the screen to check if it's getting anything. Too much glare. I flip on the night vision option, my favorite feature, shutting off my light, seeing everything change to green.

Just as I do, I'm tackled from behind, camera flying out of my hand, face pressing into the ground, the cold wet leaves and dirt. I barely have time to scream before something hits the back of my head, a spike of pain before everything fades into nothingness.

                                                                           Cold. Grass. Dirt.

I'm outside. Why am I outside?

I was on a crypted hunt, and then...

I bolt up, looking around. I'm outside Rosswood forest, and it's daytime. My backpack is nowhere in sight, meaning my phone was also gone. But oddly enough, my camera lies a few feet from me, seemingly unharmed. I scoop it up, examining it.

Unharmed, except for a small mark scratched into the side.

(Insert OX here)

I turn it on, checking it over. Functioning fine. Full battery, somehow. All of my clips are still there, including the ones from last night. I select the most recent one, filmed around 11pm. I press play, fast forwarding to just before where I heard the sound.

A flick of static crosses the screen as it points off into the forest, my flashlight partially blinding it. Then the light gets brighter as I flicked on the night vision, before I turned the light off. I wince as I get tackled, the screen only showing the forest floor. A second later, there is a thump, and quiet once more.

Then the camera is picked up.

Being examined by my attacker.

A man in a skull mask.

                                                                           I trek through the forest once more. I don't want to, but this could put my channel on the map. Not to mention that I wanted my phone, which has a lot of personal data, back.

I reach the area from the night before, crouching down. No blood on the ground, but the leaves were all shaken up, probably from where I landed. I look around.

How do I track again?

I start following the more disturbed areas of leaves, thankful for the wilting of trees that comes with Autumn. I move quietly, just in case someone is listening, not expecting to be the one to hear someone.

"Jay! Jay where are you?" A man shouts.

I dive behind a bush, looking for who yelled. There, walking towards the old shed I had been about to explore, was a man in a mask.

Not a mask like the Skull Man, but a different one. This one was like a porcelain doll, black lips and thick black points like eyeliner on the eyes, with thin, arched eyebrows, their only similarity. He wears tan jacket and jeans, as opposed to the Skull Man, who wore a hoodie.

"Jay! Come on!" He keeps walking towards the shed, not really bothering to be quiet. "Jay! Jaybird! Skully!"

"You called?" The Skull Man jumps down from a low branch, crouching as he lands. I turn my camera to him, filming the exchange.

"How long did it take you to get that to work?"

"A few weeks."

The Skull Man, Skully, approaches him. If I have to guess, he sounds amused.

"Where's Hoods? Isn't it time for a change?"

"He's not here. You get me instead."

"What?" The Skull Man sounds almost offended. "That's like replacing a rabbit with a racoon."

"You love both of those animals. I don't see what you're trying to say." As he speaks, the Masked Man unravels a roll of bandages he pulled from his pocket.

"You know damn well what I'm trying to say."

"You're impossible. Just let me change your bandages so I can get out of here." The Masked Man scoffs. I can practically hear the eye roll.

"You know you love me." The Skull Man teases. He grabs the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it up over his head, revealing a bandaged chest. The bandages have a large red stain on one side, and my stomach flips as I think of what it probably is.

I watch, camera pointing as the Masked Man unwrap the bandages of the Skull Man, who's sitting on a tree stump now. I stifle a gasp as a wound is revealed, bright red and infected looking. Blood leaks from it, running down his stomach where it's wiped away. Water is poured over the wound, washing away the blood for the moment. The Masked Man starts wrapping the bandages back around the Skull Man's chest, causing him to shift uncomfortably.

I can understand why. That injury looks painful.

"Sit still." The Masked Man commands. He continues to wrap the bandages.

"You're doing them too tight."

"No I'm not. Sit still, Jay."

"Hoodie is better at this." Skull Man grumbles, crossing his arms. He has them quickly uncrossed again by the Masked Man. "Stop pulling them so tight! I can't breathe!"

"You don't breathe." He pins the bandages, snipping off a bit of extra. What does that mean?

"Doesn't mean it's comfortable."

"I'm not a doctor, Jaybird."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT! JAY IS DEAD!" The Skull Man yells suddenly, standing up confrontationally. "Why can't you just accept that!? Surely you've seen the shot enough times to know that he's gone!" 

The Masked Man is silent. They both stare at each other in a moment of tense silence, not moving. I continue to film, barely breathing as I watch.

"I'm leaving." The Skull Man turns, scooping up his hoodie and pulling it over his head as he starts walking away. I turn my camrea to follow him as he leaves, shifting to get a better angle.

Snap.

I freeze in horror as the bush branch snaps. The two masked people's heads turn towards me, or more, the general direction of me.

"What was that?"