#goofy and mostly useless assistant

[verae]

If eyes move, this could die! I want you…

To take me out!

Hiiii hello! It’s been SO long since I’ve posted an art to Tumblr ‘:)

Soooo I offer you:

Wolfsbane! (any pronounz)

Sort of a sona of mine! Although they weren’t originally meant to be one

Wolfsbane is HEAVILY inspired off of the game Shipwrecked 64 and (the soon to come out :3) BlunderCover 64!! (Formerly Cold Case)

Hence why she doesn’t really.. look anything like a wolf. /lh

Expect to see more of him, Hopefully!

[spookyghostbunny]

Spspspsp come get your lee!Caine

It's not surprising that the circus performers occasionally have their off days. Even Caine, the usually lively ringmaster, had them

However, those days were far and few between.

Today just so happens to be one of those days.

Caine didn't understand why he felt so blue. The sun was shining, the stars were sparkling, and the digital flowers were in full bloom. There was even a gentle breeze that passed through THE GROUNDS, making it a perfect day to be outside.

Despite the beautiful day outside, inside THE TENT was a different story. The circus performers quickly noticed their ringmaster's unusual behavior. They were all frantically telling jokes and performing tricks, trying to bring Caine's frown back to its signature smile.

Everything they tried had failed.

Caine sighs as he floats back to his room. He was grateful for his performers trying to help, but now he just wanted to be alone. He couldn't shake this weird feeling. Overwhelmed? Is that the right word? He sighed again and sat down on his bed, staring off at the wall in thought.

Will he ever feel better?

"What's got ya so down in the dumps, boss?" Caine jumps at hearing the familiar voice of his assistant.

Bubble floated in front of him, looking curious. It's not every day his friend looks this upset.

"I'm not quite sure, dear Bubble. I believe I am experiencing one of those days that Ragatha refers to as 'bad days.' I wasn't sure what that meant, but now I'm starting to understand," Caine explains, unconsciously fidgeting with his hands.

Bubble cooed in sympathy. He was feeling a little useless in this situation. He wanted to help his friend, but he was only a sphere with eyes and a mouth. What could he do?

The sentient bubble drifted towards Caine, attempting a few affectionate nuzzles.

What happened next was something Bubble would never let Caine live down.

The ringmaster let out a soft gasp before being consumed by giggles.

The two were equally taken back by Caine's strange reaction. "What was that?" Bubble asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Caine stuttered, appearing uncharacteristically flustered. "N-Nothing!"

It didn't take long for Bubble to realize what had happened. A mischievous smirk formed on his toothy mouth.

He figured out a way to help his friend.

Caine rapidly leaps off the bed and backs away from Bubble. "N-now, Bubble! Don't you try any funny business! I- um- feel better already! Yeah! Hey, I think I heard Pomni calling me! I should-"

Before Caine has the chance to retreat, Bubble unleashes his attack, aiming at Caine's tummy.

Caine squeals, bursting into goofy laughter from the ticklish nuzzles. "Buhuhubble!"

"I didn't know you were ticklish, Caine! This is such great news!" Bubble chirps, not realizing that his talking made the tickly feeling worse.

Caine squeals again, attempting to push away his assistant.

For a bubble, Bubble was surprisingly strong.

It was a funny sight for sure! The floating mouth's jaw almost touched the floor from how hard he was laughing, and he was wiggling this way and that! If only Bubble had a camera with him.

As Caine grew weaker, he gradually descended to the floor. "Hahaha St-stohohop thihis! Yohohou parasite!!"

Bubble gasps in fake offense. "You're in for it now," he growls.

Caine instantly knew he [insert silly noise here] up.

Bubble took a deep breath (it was mostly for show since he didn't need to breathe) and blew a raspberry on Caine's poor stomach.

Caine shrieked, attempting to curl up and escape the madding tingles that rippled through his body. This is so weird! He has never been on the receiving end of a raspberry before! This must be what the others felt when he gave them one.

It was kind of fun!

"IHIHI'M S-SOHOHORRHEHEHE!"

"Hmm... I don't know. You don't look sorry to me!" Bubble teased, having to hold back his own laughter. He was having a blast! He took another mock deep breath, delivering a raspberry to Caine's side.

This went on until Bubble saw that Caine was close to his limit. He stops and moves so he was sitting beside Caine. "Feelin any better, boss?" Bubble asks, hoping he didn't take it too far.

Caine took a minute to calm down. His digital nerves still felt the tingles shooting through them. When the phantom tickles finally went away, he shoots back up into the air and does a dramatic twirl.

"Yep! I'm feeling like my old self again! In fact..." He glaces at the door, his voice taking on a playfully darker tone. "I would like to repay our guests for their help."

"SCATTER!" They heard Jax yell outside the door. They both chuckle as they hear the performers take off in different directions.

Bubble was ready for round two.

[sharonisthebettercarter]

Hit you with more yax, but it's a tarzan au:

Max looked around, trying to find the best twigs for the fire. He wasn't the best at camping and didn't know much about making a fire, but he could gather twigs to help his father, Goofy, and Salazar out for the night. He kept picking up branches and twigs even though the bag he was using was almost full. Max felt like he needed to focus on something other than analyzing the jungle's wildlife.

It turned out to be an even bigger distraction than he was expecting as Max looked around after filling the bag up and found himself in a completely unknown place. He tried hard to hear the group back at camp, but got nothing but jungle sounds. Max gripped the bag tighter, trying to stay calm and think clearly. He glanced around, trying to locate any familiar markings, and his heart almost stopped at the glinting yellow eyes that were focused on him from between two bushes. Max swallowed hard, willing himself to not move a muscle while at the same time formulating an escape plan. He kept coming up empty, even his training leaving him in the face of such a dangerous creature in an unknown, big place.

The animal stepped forward, coming out of its mostly hidden place, and Max realized with dread that it was a Marsupilami. It stood up and it took all of Max's self-control to not turn around and run. Not asking Salazar with his gun for assistance was proving to be a mistake with each passing moment. Max was frozen in place. The torrents of curiosity and suspicion coming off this creature shook Max to his very core. He had heard rumors of the Marsupilami species, of course, but like most people he had dismissed it as some kind of urban legend. The kind of bedtime stories parents would tell their children at night before bed.

Now lo and behold, it was directly in front him in person! He'd never considered that such a majestic animal like this could really be at the heart of mythologies. Heart hammering in his chest, Max desperately tried to decide what to do when a strange yell echoed through the small clearing. The Marsupilami's head flicked up and it looked ready to slam down on him, all Max could do was close his eyes and hope it was a quick death. He heard the Marsupilami snarl and leaves being smashed but nothing touched him.

Max opened his eyes slowly, almost scared to look. He blinked, confused at the sight of muscular arms wrapped around the Marsupilami's neck, Black messy hair tuft appearing from behind the animal's head. The Marsupilami thrashed around, trying to get free, but it couldn't. The stranger's grip was too tight. The Marsupilami whimpered, large paws slamming the ground in a useless attempt to fight.

Max watched wide-eyed as the Marsupilami was released and turned to look at the stranger. The stranger shouted gibberish at the Marsupilami. The animal frowned at the stranger. It made weird gibberish sounds too and gave them the 'why not?' death glare. The stranger sighed and responded to the Marsupilami.

Whatever the stranger has said to the other animal, earned them a slap across the face, and suddenly another appeared, this time female. She quickly restrained her mate, trying to calm him down. The both spoke gibberish. As soon as they were done communicating, they both scampered away from the stranger. Max kept his eyes on the animals' retreating forms until they were gone, only then turning to the raven-colored figure of his savior.

It was a man! He was crouched, intense onyx eyes watching Max curiously from behind messy black hair tuft as he approached her. His torso was well-built and bare. He has short black fur covering most of his body and white fur over his face, cheeks and eyebrows. Before Max could notice anything else about his savior, the man started some sort of weird Marsupilami crawl towards him. Max moved back, trying to put some distance between them. His back met the solid bark of a tree and Max found himself gazing into onyx eyes and with nowhere to run.

"Stay back... I'm warning you, my dad won't take kindly to...!" Max said as the man moved closer and sniffed Max's hair and neck, making Max extra aware that his fruity shampoo wasn't helping the situation. Something touched his leg towards his belt and Max jerked back in surprise, hitting his head on the tree.

"How dare you!" He said, swatting the man's hands away and he recoiled.

The wildman pulled back and Max finally saw the wild man's full body. The man's body was completely bare, tight, and hard muscles covered in scars. He has a small red nose and black ears, as well as a tail that sticks out through his pants. He was also wearing only a loin cloth with a tail that sticks out through it. He watched Max with curiosity, head tilted to the side.

"Oh jeez... I'm lost in the jungle with a wild man!" Max said aloud in almost whisper. The other man continued crawling towards him.

"Oh...er," Max said more to himself, "Now that's close enough!"

He mentally cursed himself, feeling stupid talking to someone who couldn't understand him. The feral man simply continued to observe Max, his eyes feeling like they could see right through Max. Max held his breath as the feral man poked at his chest and stomach.

"Hey! Knock it off!" Max said, looking away irritated from the wild man with his eyes closed and chest puffed out, "don't touch me", he warned darkly.

Max put his leg out from under him, placing his foot on the wild man's bare chest.

The feral man looked down at the action, stilled as Max did nothing but held his leg out as a barrier. There was a hint of a curiosity on the other man's face as he looked at the foreign object on Max's foot (his hiking boot). Max was about to draw his leg back under his body when lightning fast fingers grabbed him by the foot. Max's breath caught in his throat as the feral man pulled off his shoe and brought it up to his face, inspecting and sniffing it.

"WTF?!" Max squeaked.

The wild man lowly lost interest in the shoe, and picked up Max's bare foot.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Max said as the other man wiggled and pulled his toes around, and ran his thumbs along Max's sole, causing Max to giggle.

"Haha...please don't that tickles!" Max pleaded, trying to tug it away, but finding the man's grip surprisingly strong.

Max finally had enough of the endless probing of his foot when the man resorted back to sniffing, he started smelling his leg and worked his way up under Max's shirt.

"Get off me!" Max said kicking the man in the face, "Serves you right...now you stay away from me like a good wild man or whatever you're supposed to be!"

The feral man repeated Max almost perfectly, "Yakko".

Max gasped, jumping back in surprise and resorted to sitting back on his knees with his feet behind him to keep the wild man from touching his foot further.

"You can speak!" Max said, his eyes glinting with amusement mixed with curiosity, and Max forgot all about the small fact that he saved him from the Marsupilami and he was tickling his sensitive foot.

"Why didn't you say anything before? And here I was thinking you were just some jungle lunatic! At least give me your name."

The man pointed at himself, looking deep in thought, "Yakko".

"Oh that's very lovely... I'm..." Max was just about to introduce himself, until Yakko unexpectedly leaned in his head onto Max's chest.

"Oh, um... I see you like my heartbeat," Max said nervously.

Then Yakko did another unexpected, he grabbed Max's head and pulled him towards his own chest. "Yes yes...that's very nice!"

"Now then er-um... I'm Max".

Yakko traced Max's face and repeated. "Max."

"Max, Yakko."

"Exactly".

babe... i'm just in awe that you put an entire whole ass fic in my inbox like damn. you coulda posted this yourself as a oneshot~!! but lovely work (altho not exactly a ship for me) BUTT~

i am honored. round of applause<3

i can't even think of anything else, but i mean, hey, you do you boo<3 i'd say it's payin' off<3<3<3 ;)

[genderlessjacky]

Yax tarzan au (anime-styled version):

Max looked around, trying to find the best twigs for the fire. He wasn't the best at camping and didn't know much about making a fire, but he could gather twigs to help his father, Goofy, and Salazar out for the night. He kept picking up branches and twigs even though the bag he was using was almost full. Max felt like he needed to focus on something other than analyzing the jungle's wildlife.

It turned out to be an even bigger distraction than he was expecting as Max looked around after filling the bag up and found himself in a completely unknown place. He tried hard to hear the group back at camp, but got nothing but jungle sounds. Max gripped the bag tighter, trying to stay calm and think clearly. He glanced around, trying to locate any familiar markings, and his heart almost stopped at the glinting yellow eyes that were focused on him from between two bushes. Max swallowed hard, willing himself to not move a muscle while at the same time formulating an escape plan. He kept coming up empty, even his training leaving him in the face of such a dangerous creature in an unknown, big place.

The animal stepped forward, coming out of its mostly hidden place, and Max realized with dread that it was a Marsupilami. It stood up and it took all of Max's self-control to not turn around and run. Not asking Salazar with his gun for assistance was proving to be a mistake with each passing moment. Max was frozen in place. The torrents of curiosity and suspicion coming off this creature shook Max to his very core. He had heard rumors of the Marsupilami species, of course, but like most people he had dismissed it as some kind of urban legend. The kind of bedtime stories parents would tell their children at night before bed.

Now lo and behold, it was directly in front him in person! He'd never considered that such a majestic animal like this could really be at the heart of mythologies. Heart hammering in his chest, Max desperately tried to decide what to do when a strange yell echoed through the small clearing. The Marsupilami's head flicked up and it looked ready to slam down on him, all Max could do was close his eyes and hope it was a quick death. He heard the Marsupilami snarl and leaves being smashed but nothing touched him.

Max opened his eyes slowly, almost scared to look. He blinked, confused at the sight of muscular arms wrapped around the Marsupilami's neck, Black messy hair tuft appearing from behind the animal's head. The Marsupilami thrashed around, trying to get free, but it couldn't. The stranger's grip was too tight. The Marsupilami whimpered, large paws slamming the ground in a useless attempt to fight.

Max watched wide-eyed as the Marsupilami was released and turned to look at the stranger. The stranger shouted gibberish at the Marsupilami. The animal frowned at the stranger. It made weird gibberish sounds too and gave them the 'why not?' death glare. The stranger sighed and responded to the Marsupilami.

Whatever the stranger has said to the other animal, earned them a slap across the face, and suddenly another appeared, this time female. She quickly restrained her mate, trying to calm him down. The both spoke gibberish. As soon as they were done communicating, they both scampered away from the stranger. Max kept his eyes on the animals' retreating forms until they were gone, only then turning to the raven-colored figure of his savior.

It was a man! He was crouched, intense onyx eyes watching Max curiously from behind messy black hair tuft as he approached her. His torso was well-built and bare. He has short black fur covering most of his body and white fur over his face, cheeks and eyebrows. Before Max could notice anything else about his savior, the man started some sort of weird Marsupilami crawl towards him. Max moved back, trying to put some distance between them. His back met the solid bark of a tree and Max found himself gazing into onyx eyes and with nowhere to run.

"Stay back... I'm warning you, my dad won't take kindly to...!" Max said as the man moved closer and sniffed Max's hair and neck, making Max extra aware that his fruity shampoo wasn't helping the situation. Something touched his leg towards his belt and Max jerked back in surprise, hitting his head on the tree.

"How dare you!" He said, swatting the man's hands away and he recoiled.

The wildman pulled back and Max finally saw the wild man's full body. The man's body was completely bare, tight, and hard muscles covered in scars. He has a small red nose and black ears, as well as a tail that sticks out through his pants. He was also wearing only a loin cloth with a tail that sticks out through it. He watched Max with curiosity, head tilted to the side.

"Oh jeez... I'm lost in the jungle with a wild man!" Max said aloud in almost whisper. The other man continued crawling towards him.

"Oh...er," Max said more to himself, "Now that's close enough!"

He mentally cursed himself, feeling stupid talking to someone who couldn't understand him. The feral man simply continued to observe Max, his eyes feeling like they could see right through Max. Max held his breath as the feral man poked at his chest and stomach.

"Hey! Knock it off!" Max said, looking away irritated from the wild man with his eyes closed and chest puffed out, "don't touch me", he warned darkly.

Max put his leg out from under him, placing his foot on the wild man's bare chest.

The feral man looked down at the action, stilled as Max did nothing but held his leg out as a barrier. There was a hint of a curiosity on the other man's face as he looked at the foreign object on Max's foot (his hiking boot). Max was about to draw his leg back under his body when lightning fast fingers grabbed him by the foot. Max's breath caught in his throat as the feral man pulled off his shoe and brought it up to his face, inspecting and sniffing it.

"WTF?!" Max squeaked.

The wild man lowly lost interest in the shoe, and picked up Max's bare foot.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Max said as the other man wiggled and pulled his toes around, and ran his thumbs along Max's sole, causing Max to giggle.

"Haha...please don't that tickles!" Max pleaded, trying to tug it away, but finding the man's grip surprisingly strong.

Max finally had enough of the endless probing of his foot when the man resorted back to sniffing, he started smelling his leg and worked his way up under Max's shirt.

"Get off me!" Max said kicking the man in the face, "Serves you right...now you stay away from me like a good wild man or whatever you're supposed to be!"

The feral man repeated Max almost perfectly, "Yakko".

Max gasped, jumping back in surprise and resorted to sitting back on his knees with his feet behind him to keep the wild man from touching his foot further.

"You can speak!" Max said, his eyes glinting with amusement mixed with curiosity, and Max forgot all about the small fact that he saved him from the Marsupilami and he was tickling his sensitive foot.

"Why didn't you say anything before? And here I was thinking you were just some jungle lunatic! At least give me your name."

The man pointed at himself, looking deep in thought, "Yakko".

"Oh that's very lovely... I'm..." Max was just about to introduce himself, until Yakko unexpectedly leaned in his head onto Max's chest.

"Oh, um... I see you like my heartbeat," Max said nervously.

Then Yakko did another unexpected, he grabbed Max's head and pulled him towards his own chest. "Yes yes...that's very nice!"

"Now then er-um... I'm Max".

Yakko traced Max's face and repeated. "Max."

"Max, Yakko."

"Exactly".

hold the fuck ON OMG?? im adding this to my google docs to write this omg

[scover-va]

Generally when you reblog things I feel like I ask for ???/Carla/Chandrelle a lot. So I’m going to switch it up and say Rust for the ask meme

My favourite old man!!! And my favourite, dare I say, babygirl

Favourite thing about them:

His fucking CHAPTER oguhgguughggugh i could talk about him and his experiences for HOURS OGUGHGUGUH. Hi. I am NOT normal about him. Tho genuine, less vague answer is probably just. Like. His personality? Like he is SUCH a good dad and i just wanna see him and Weasel Kid bond post-game yknow??? But also like. His entire life is the wastes, people wanting to kill him and his son around every corner, yet he still tries and avoid violence whenever possible?? I dont know if it's more of a genuine pacifist thing or if he doesnt want his son to experience all this death, but like. I kinda wanna lean towards the second option considering how quickly he resorted to killing and shooting on sight when Rocky wasnt there. And I know thats mainly bc of trauma and determination to get to his kid but. I mean. Shooting Jeremiah in the chest was NOT necessary. Anyways also hes silly and goofy and I love him <3

Least favourite thing about him:

Maybe not about HIM specifically but like. I wish the mind control serum was explored more?? Like it kinda feels like a useless plot. Yes it triggered Carla's hardcore mod, but unless she or Sado were in contact with Reggie and Jeremiah somehow, then that mod could've just...been triggered differently. And like. It's mostly Sado's actions that drive him to that brink of insanity. I cant remember if Jeremiah told him to go to the inn, but the ONLY reason i can see the MC Serum being important is just to get him to the inn. other than that. He joins in on the ritual because he thinks it'll get Rocky back. He's already a player character, he doesnt NEED to be controlled by the player. And also I think the potential of him being the dead body up during Junior's lil assistance section of VG2 is unexplored

Favourite Line:

Not even the full line, but. Mayhap. I quote it all the time. (Full line is something like "Can't fit in there. Someone smaller, mayhap" idk I'm not pulling up the game to find it) Mayhap mayhap mayhap. Hes so silly I love him <3333

brOTP:

Again, I think he and Weasel Kid should have a father-son dynamic, as seen in one of my fics. They both lost what the other is, and I just mmmmm!!!!

OTP:

My number of Rust ships is. Low. Admittedly. But him with Bryce and/or Lazarus <3

nOTP:

Obviously The Hex has like 10 fans, and the number of Rust ships is. Low. But I'm just gonna say the obvious notps; Weasel Kid, Sado, or Rocky. Thank fucking god this fandom is small because weirdos would use Lionel's voice line about never figuring out Rust and Rockys exact bond as an excuse for proshitting. So. Yay small fandom moment <3

Random Headcanon:

I dont know how random BUT while in the Wastes, he's fairly thin and doesn't eat much, only eating up to half of their food rations, often less, saving the rest for Rocky. But he had slight muscle to make up for it, because I'm sure carrying around supplies and a bigass shot gun all day every day + walking all day every day at least builds up SOME muscle. Once he gets to the inn, however, he loses his gun and doesn't walk around too much. After all, the inn is MUCH smaller than the wastes. So, he ends up losing muscle. Not to mention he's probably eating less (especially after the possibility of fully coming to terms with what happened to his son), so. He grows thinner. Though he DOES go down a road of recovery (probably with Bryce's help tbh, knowing how Bryce is) and ends up regaining some body fat! He eventually gets healthy enough that he slowly develops a bit of a dad bod :-) I wanted to draw out this hc but couldn't get the anatomy to look right so I forgot about it, but I am VERY happy I get to ramble about it now <3

Unpopular Opinion:

There are like 2 or 3 other people who talk about Rust enough for ANY sort of 'popular' opinion to form. So. That sucks. Does him being the skeleton in the GameWorks base count? Can I say he's smart just not conventionally smart? Like he can hotwire a car and picked up some German thanks to a certain nuclear sandworm and can aim with perfect accuracy despite having poor vision, but he can't read or do math or write or-

Song I associate with them:

I. Have an entire playlist for him. Whoopsies. ANYWAYS. Grief from The Devil's Carnival (ive never listened to the musical i just found it in a playlist a while back) and Still Here by Digital Daggers. Mostly Grief tho. But like. It's from Sado's perspective about Rust. If that makes sense

Favourite Picture of them:

His steam emoji <33333

It looks even goofier on my phone bc of how blurred it is

[saintheartwing]

I've decided to put this up for reference and to help not only myself remember who's who, but clear a few things up for you, dear reader. All part of my “Breaking Dawn” Invader Zim story! From left to right, starting at the top...

DIB Occupation: Student Power: Willpower Further Notes: Dilbert Membrane, little "Dibbun". He's both antagonist and protagonist like Zim in the television series "Invader Zim", and grew up with both a strong interest in the paranormal and the strange, and with a deep desire to protect the people of Earth. Even as a toddler he seemed to have a calling within him to protect the planet and those within it. He is capable of overcoming great fear, and with his strong resolution and imagination, he makes for an excellent green lantern. This brave-hearted youth grew up on "IZ-Prime", the "Base" planet of the Invader Zim youth, the Earth where all other Invader Zim universes are born from. His primary job is usually keeping Zim from experimenting on other people or unleashing some highly strange, oddly stupid and yet fiendishly clever doomsday weapon on the populace. Eventually Dib hit on an idea: Zim had managed to make himself a "friend" in Keef, who had done everything with him...and where was Batman without a Robin? He took in a charge, and recruited that slightly slow, but friendly and impressionable kid Nick whom Zim had stuck a probe in some time back. The two became an excellent team for a time until "The Incident" in which Zim crossed the line...and did something to Nick Dib would never forget...and possibly never forgive. Eventually the years went on and Zim slightly mellowed out, meaning that Dib could relax somewhat...until, that is, all of reality began to fall apart... GAZ Occupation: Student Power: Rage Further Notes: Gazeline Membrane blamed almost everybody when her mother Peggy died in a tragic lab accident. All of it was unfair blame, but she didn't care. She shut herself up in selfish desires and caprice, her rage slowly boiling underneath her like a volcano set to blow at the slightest notice. Interestingly, she began to warm up to Zim. The two had a surprising amount of things in common...the two even went to the dance together. She admits in private he "cleaned up alright". She was blushing heavily as she said this. She didn't, however, approve of what Zim did to Nick, because whilst she doesn't mind the exploitation of the stupid, the outright abuse he leveled was horrifying even to her. She tried to be nice to Nick in the hospital, giving him something of a crush on her. Being a being of revenge, private loss and fury, it's not surprising she bonded with the power of Rage, which had, at one point, been the might of Passion. Heck, she's ALL passion! ZIM Occupation: "Invader", Service Drone/Student Power: Avarice Further Notes: Zerinim, Zimmy-Wimmy, Zimri, etc, etc. You all know him. He's that short, tiny little thing who's determined to take over and/or destroy the Earth. You have to give him points for persistence, he keeps a-tryin', but his level of commitment and competence is "Team Rocket" level. Since he was little, he's been pretty much destroying everything he touches, but this isn't totally his fault. His PAK is defective, his mental processes aren't right. He's slow in some areas of development, but very bright in others, similar to that of an autistic child...obsessive and slightly anti-social behavior included. He's also never admit his deep concern for his beloved companions, mostly because he desperately clings to the inane idea that an Invader needs no one, even though he often relies on others for the "final touch" in his plan. The "incident" that happened with Nick actually struck him with so much guilt...it almost struck as hard as Dib did with that lead pipe after he snuck inside Zim's house and put Zim in a body cast for half a year. Zim's plans became less lethal and more annoying, and he began to appreciate his "friends" a bit more. He views Dib as something of an equal, and in a way, perhaps...more than that. And then...there's Gaz... GIR Occupation: Robot Power: Fear Further Notes: GIR. He's a GARBAGE-INFESTED-ROBOT! Useless as far as most robotic companions go because he's not usually taking things seriously, his head always in the clouds. And the few times he DOES focus don't last long at all. However, with the power of "Fear" flowing through him, the potential to inspire terror and impose HIS kind of order on the world brings out the dark, foul and pitiless cruelty he holds within. GIR has the potential to be even worse than Zim, and the ring focuses his inner psychopathic tendencies. GIR is very childlike...he doesn't always 'get' what he's supposed to do, or understand why things are the way they are. Yet he is also more intelligent and wise than people give him credit for, having access to fundamental truths about the universe he lives in. He understands what kind of world he's in, and has accepted that, and his role as the on-again off-again goofy sociopath. If your really are worried about him, give him something shiny. Or a lollipop. SKOODGE Occupation: Invader Power: Hope Further Notes: Invader Skoodge. No matter what terrible things happened in his life, he's always faced the future. He's remained cheery, helpful, friendly and optimistic, and therefore, it befits him to wear the robes of the Blue, wielder of the light that Hope brings. Skoodge and Zim go way back, and Skoodge considers Zim a dear friend, one of the few people who didn't treat him like a fat, useless lump. As such, he's willing to do almost anything for him, or anybody who treats him with respect and decency. He treats the revelation about the world he lives in with stoic acceptance, and doesn't raise a stink about it. Skoodge is too cool for school, baby. NOTHIN' rattles him. Plus I like this outfit the most. It's so stylish! GRETCHEN Occupation: Student Power: Love Further Notes: Gretchen has always had a huuuuge crush on Dib, admiring him and his work from afar. She eventually figured out the truth about Zim, which helped make Dib open up to her, but nobody really listened to HER either. Mostly because her braces weren't fixed yet...kids can be so cruel. But when wielding the light of Love, she's able to bring out her strongest potential, and become the brave defender that she always was inside, the sort of take-charge, admirable alien-busting girl that Dib would find his ideal. Plus, more importantly, the outfit she's wearing does NOT make her look half-naked. You're welcome. TAK Occupation: Former Invader/Current Patron of Emotion Power: Willpower Further Notes: Tessirak, or Tak, was at one point, a promising Irken training to be an Invader. She rose quickly through the ranks, impressing all of her superior officers (Red especially, he "loves that girl!")...and tragically getting trapped on her training planet when Zim caused a huge power outage in his desire to get a snack. Typical Zim. Tak got a LITTLE bit insane from that and from being forced to be a janitor for several years. She went to Earth to get her revenge and actually befriended Dib somewhat, but ultimately she lost against Zim and his "friends", and was sent out into space. Her old comrade who still had a great gentlemanly (and slightly romantic) concern for her, Darth, had a fellow comrade go pick her up upon hearing of her plight, and she was almost dead...if not for the fact that her Will was keeping her alive, beyond even her PAK, beyond anything else. This strong Will was what transformed her into the Patron of Willpower, and she bonded to Jayd when he arrived to aid her. Tak is very resolute and intelligent, and always follows through on her plans. She's clever as can be, and over time, developed a dear fondness for Dib and her host, Jayd, who views himself as a Knight, with her as his queen to protect. I like the way her design came out quite a lot, truth be told. She's so streamlined and stylish! I was tempted to give her a cape, truth be told. But like the movie "The Incredibles" said...no capes! JAYD Occupation: Medic Power: Willpower Patron: Tak Further Notes: Jayd was and always has been a lucky, lucky guy. He, like the others in Senior's care, found something fascinating about Earth Culture. Unlike the others though, this fascination came from comics. Ideals like justice and morality hit home with him, and he became fascinated by the tales in comics like "Superman", "X-Men" and, his personal favorite...Green Lantern. It could be the result of his programming: after all, he WAS encoded as a medic, helping the sick and injured and helpless is in his "blood". So was it the entity of Willpower, heroism and courage embodied, that he picked..or did it pick HIM? Either explanation makes sense, and that's what I'm leaving it at. Jayd is the heroic Irken that strives to be courageous and noble, the honorable warrior, a flame of chivalry that can't be blown out. The power of Will requires a living being to manifest, and it's representative is always changing based around who has the mightiest will in its presence. It was Tak that gained it, having the ability to overcome great fear, and she, in turn, bonded to Jayd after he was sent to rescue her courtesy of her dear old comrade, Darithil. With her indomitable will and his deep moral code, the two are a good fit. And I really like the wreathe he wears atop his head. It's a nice touch. MAHT Occupation: Service Drone Power: Compassion Patron: Fiyvr Further Notes: Maht's always been used all his life. Be he a tool of a general, being forced to sweep floors at a diner or being stuck bussing drinks, he's never had his own will. But he doesn't totally care. What he DOES care about is being able to be of some help or use to others. He accepts his lot in life because, for the most part, he feels he can do the most good in whatever position he happens to be in. Gaining the sympathetic light of Compassion and becoming wielder of the Indigo Light enabled him to be of even greater assistance to others. Maht, like the others, found a deep liking of Earthling ways. He finds the different races and cultures fascinating, and has a deep personal enjoyment of food from the small blue planet, especially if it's deep fried or contains cheese. Fiyvr, his patron, is from the world of Wahshyd Dawhn, and was a renowned prophet and seer. He's always happy to lend a hand in solving somebody's problems, and to be a shoulder to cry on...even if he's physically short on both accounts. Curse his lack of opposable thumbs! Still, Maht might be pretty much a rug for others to walk all over on, but he's a very HELPFUL rug, and a reliable type...and he'll still try and give the best hug he can when somebody's feelin' down. DITE Occupation: Elite Invader Power: Passion/Rage Patron: Chulainn Further Notes: Dite likes to be seen as strong. She handles fights like a man, handles anger like a man, and fights dirty like a man. All of her inner anger though, stems from personal loss. She loved someone once, many, many years ago, and gave her all for him. But the Empire let him rot. For that...she would never forgive them. And she adopted a gung-ho attitude similar to her beloved's personality. It is grief that fuels the greatest rage, and so Chulainn, who endured great pain in HIS life, naturally bonded to her and others who felt great suffering. He originated on Earth like Psyche and Jourmungdr, and his appearance changed to better fit his new nature. Dite has a deep love of the kind of "gritty and dark" action stories that Earth has. I'm talkin' "Bloodgun" or "Punisher" type stories. She really, REALLY likes making sure people get what they deserve. And get. And get some more. So yeah...she's a bloodthirsty vigilante with a tragic past. Never seen THOSE before! :roll" MIYUKI Occupation: Former Tallest, Current Resisty Leader and Television Personality Power: Hope Patron: Psyche Further Notes: Psyche comes from Earth like Chulainn and Joumungdr, and when Chulainn stood for passion, the two were very close. If one has hope and faith in the future, one should live passionately, living life to its fullest, unafraid. Furthermore, she likes poetry. His poetry. Yeah, weird relationship. Miyuki has had several weird relationships in HER life too. Darithil considers her a mother figure, to Senior, she was the "big sister" type boss, as dear as family, and to Spork she was an annoying wife that he felt he always had to drag around, like she was a nagging ball and chain and he was a prisoner on a chain gang. Of course, his biggest concern was usually whether the camera was getting his good side, whilst she cared more about, y'know, food shortages, the fate of physical defectives and whether or not the Meekrob would nuke her people. She lost almost all hope when Zim's creation, the Infinite Energy Absorbing Blob ate her, and was forced to maintain her consciousness and what little was left of her body by consuming living beings along with Spork. However, she held onto the idea that one day she could return, and bring her people out of darkness. She represents living hope...the hope that one day, the Irken people could be good and noble, if only they had the right person to show them the way...and she sure knows how to dress, woo! Her outfit is my favorite out of all the girls. It's so regal and dignified! FEYR Occupation: Consular (Interrogator) Power: Love Patron: Jourmungdr Further Notes: Most would be surprised that the power of Love is exemplified by a patron that's a giant snake which used to be a Norse monster, and represented by cannibalistic Irkens dressed in vaguely transsexual armor. Well the thing is, their love almost borders on obsession. Love is deep and complicated, and though usually innocent in intent, it has a bad tendency of not realizing that it's lost sight of the rest of the world...and lost its grip on logic. Consulars are all psychics, and their power has been manipulating Irk for generations. They seek to save Irk from "itself", feeling that the idea that "invaders need no one" is inane. If they didn't need anybody or anything, the Tallest wouldn't give them SIRs. Wouldn't give them PAKs. They love their planet and love other alien races, and not merely for dinner, either. They just have a tendency to get...carried away. Feyr is no exception. He wines and dines all he interrogates, and views shrinking and swallowing them as a high honor, keeping them safe forever, embedded in the crystals he generates with his power, safe until the day Irk is ready to accept love, and by extension, the right of other races to live freely. He's charming and sweet, but also very manipulative and cold-hearted when he wants to be. But what else could you expect from a slightly sociopathic cannibal? XEIL Occupation: Communications Officer Power: Intelligence/Fear Patron: Nollij (aka Panyck), co-bonded with Spork Further Notes: Xeil's problem isn't that she's an egotistical, proud, narcissistic bitch. The problem is that it's a front. The problem is that she could be better, and WAS better. She had a personality her own, which befits her station. Most communication officers are good at listening, can "hear beyond". She was no exception... But Xeil lost herself in her job too easily, and forgot how to feel. She was hearing what others said...but she stopped listening. She lost the zest she had for her job. Panyck is much the same. At one point, he was Knowledge made manifest, the pride and joy of his home planet, but he lost himself in HIS job, and became a fascist, a dictator who worshipped fear. He views it as the best way to establish real order, and that not knowing fear is utter insanity. Admittedly, he might have a point. SOME fear is necessary, some caution is always needed in life...but inflicting fear on others needlessly is something he began to enjoy, when once before he sought to instruct others on what was to be feared rather than being the thing feared. However a piece of his true self remains, brought out by Spork, who has had a long time to think about his own rule, and Xeil, who will, with time, remember HER true self...and why she chose to be a communications officer in the first place. PEECH Occupation: Guard Power: Diligence/Avarice Patron: Pyrsist Further Notes: Pyrsist didn't take a new name, but she focused more on getting stuff than getting stuff DONE. Peech's love of Earth culture is centered around things that can best be summed up in a single word...shiny. Shiny shiny shiny! A brand new shiny thing, that's her favorite object in all the world! She keeps most hidden in her backpack/jetpack, but usually you can hear it all jingling. She likes stealing things out of people's pockets and purses and the like, being something of a kleptomaniac. Peech believes in looking regal and elegant and beautiful, and that more jewels equal more happiness. In short, she's a petty, selfish little brat...she and Pyrsist deserve each other. At one point, Pyrsist was a hard-working citizen of Avianos, but that went out the window when she became Mistress of the Orange Light. Peech is also a huge fan of Earth fashion and likes imitating what's "in" on the planet. Were she a guy, she'd have no problem wearing things like dark biker jackets or cowboy hats. She believes full-heartedly in the right to choice, she sees nothing wrong with letting Irkens be free to dress how they want, and is witty enough to debate her point of view well. To Peech, Wiyn was more than a friend growing up. But when Peech tried to give her the love she felt...Wiyn couldn't give it back. Wouldn't give it back. So she sought to fill the void with junk. She went from being a deep, poem-writing romantic to a shallow valley girl. She didn't have to be that way... NICK. E. ODEON Occupation: Student Power: Death Patron: Himself Further Notes: He's a tragedy. He was eager-to-please. He wanted to satisfy the people who showed him attention and support. He wanted to make others happy and bonded instantly to somebody who he felt was "in need of a friend". But then Zim did the unspeakable, and he went from being childlike in heart to being childlike in mind and interests as well. He has problem getting dressed...tying his shoes. That's not his real hair. It's actually a wig. His old hair kinda...rotted off after... ...erm...well, at one point, he was Dib's comrade and friend. His solider. But Dib couldn't help him...and Dib didn't avenge him. He put Zim in a body cast for six months...but "Nick" never was the same. Ultimately, it's sort of unsurpriisng that he ended up being the Black Entity. He doesn't just blame Invader Zim for his pain. He blames the universe he's in for creating Invader Zim the way he is. He blames the people that made Zim ZIM. And he's gonna make them pay for making so flawed a universe. He views Zim and the universe of Invader Zim irredeemably flawed and better off dead because of all the immorality, cruelty and terrible tragedies that it and its alternate universes spawn. The problem is that he fails to see the good that can be found within, because he refuses to see any other part of IZ. In choosing to focus on one part, albeit a large one, of the realm, he ignores all the rest of it and doesn't get a clear enough view. He doesn't fully"get" Zim, even though he says he does. And yes. He is every bit as representative of you-know-what as you think he is. But it's not his fault. He just doesn't know any better. He's just trying to do what he thinks is best. WIYN Occupation: Elite Grunt Power: None, unless you count being a bitch. Patron: None, unless maybe Satan is her secret benefactor... Further Notes: Wiyn is every horrible, cruel, sadistic, by-the-book bitchy jackass that we've met. She will always stick to the rules but only if she thinks they fit her standards. She forces everyone to fit her standards and will blast anybody that doesn't, and instead of reasonable discussion, she prefers cruel words and violence. Wiyn was, at one point, a dearly beloved comrade of Xeil, and then some. But Wiyn refused to open her heart. Instead, it shriveled up. Don't set her up with a boyfriend. She's married to her work! She's proud, narcissistic, vain, ignorant of others feelings and apathetic to the suffering of innocents. In a word, she's evil. She's a constant whiner about what is or isn't "right" for an Irken to do because she looked into the Untempered Schism, seeing all the truths of her universe. As such, she considers herself a "true Irken" and anybody remotely different from her mold, even if they just have an unusual eye color or like wearing, say, a striped outfit, MUST DIE! She's a good representative of the part of the fandom that I hate...the ones that obsess over what's truly "canon" and what's not, and who have no tolerance or compassion for anybody or anything that stretches outside their boundaries. They've got little tolerance for the fandom and refuse to recognize what it brings to Invader Zim. I have no respect for Wiyn or what she represents. I yearn for the day when she will be turned into an AVOCADO. For those of you who get this inside joke...you know who you are. You rock. SENIOR, aka Nick Grey

Occupation: Senior Communications Officer Power: Life Patron: Sude Further Notes: Nick's Irken Form, now given a true name, "Senior". He's the oldest and most experienced communications officer on the Massive, and considers himself the "Safety Net" to those on the ship. He's there for its crew, to lend a helping hand, a pair of arms to lift them up, a shoulder to cry on. He's always been kind-hearted and harmonious, with a deep love of Earth music. It's no surprise the Entity of Life, Sude of the Planet Allforce, bonded to him. Sude's story is much like Senior's. He was happy with his life. He was upstandingly moral, kindhearted and believed in doing good...and he loved, LOVED music, always having a song in his heart. But in refusing to listen to the Force of Fate, he learned that whilst such forces might not dictate what it is we are destined to do, it's not a good idea to not just disregard the words of a force of nature. Sude's devoted to protecting and supporting life, and will spend the rest of his existence forever making up for his failure. Just like Senior, Sude will always be fighting. But Senior is less of an "immortal". He's been saving the many universes in the I-Z realm for years now, and he feels he was never truly given a choice, given an unfair deal. Ultimately though, his desire to do the right thing made him chose to keep up the fight, realizing that one should never put selfish desires above doing good, no matter how seemingly innocent those desires might be. Senior's come a long way, but at last, his true form is revealed. He is a superhero, meant to embody an ideal, an ideal of humanity brought to Irk, a blessed gift that other Irkens can learn from. I guess he was always going to become a superhero one way or another...he was just such a perfect fit. Plus, I really, REALLY like the new outfit he's got now. It looks damn good on him. Now he'll be fighting injustice and cruelty through the IZ-Realm and in style! White goes well with EVERYTHING.

[texanredrose]

She’s A Pirate

Cannon fire exploded around them, a deep booming accompaniment to the high pitched tang and clang of crossed cutlasses and staccato notes of pistols firing. They’d played a dangerous game to get this far and the battle raging across the top decks of two ships acted as the culmination of a year spent sailing and fighting and falling love. To emerge victorious meant their wildest dreams coming true. No other option existed.

Blake’s feline ears flicked as she grit her teeth, her blade slicing through the air and the bone white plate of some monstrosity. She’d faced the royal navy, privateers, other pirates, and mercenaries but would gladly face the lot of them together rather than the otherworldly monsters that crewed the Grimm Reaper, twisted remnants of lost souls poisoned by the great goddess Salem’s touch. There seemed to be a neverending flood of them tearing free of the Reaper’s hull to storm onto the Longwang.

The Faunus twisted away from the gaping maw of another monster only to stumble and catch herself as her back fetched up against something too forgiving to be part of the ship itself. She turned, ready to strike again, and then froze. “Weiss?”

Blake felt a tightness in her chest, worry and love in equal measure making it hard to breathe for a moment. Before her stood the woman who’s stolen her heart, a noble daughter turned pirate queen, her dress soggy from rain and ripped by her own hands to allow freedom of movement, blood trickling down the unscarred side of her face and staining her left sleeve as she raised her arm. “Duck!”

Her feline ears perked as the order registered and she dropped down, the woman’s sword singing through the air and stabbing deep into the monster she’d narrowly avoided earlier. As Weiss dispatched that one, Blake saw another rear up being the woman, and she darted forward to protect her love. There they stood, back-to-back on the top deck, fending off the onslaught, and it struck the Faunus as deeply appropriate. That, in spite of the obstacles before them, the dire circumstances surrounding them, Salem’s fury descending upon them, and the armada awaiting them, Blake would choose to be nowhere else. Beside Weiss, no matter where that might be- land or sea or that world in-between life and death- would always be her place.

“Weiss!” She lifted her sword, blocking the blade of a Grimm creature, the weapon somehow fused to the bone plate of its forearm. “Weiss, I have something to tell you!”

“Is now the appropriate time?” Blue eyes flashed her way briefly as she pulled her own weapon from deep within the chest of yet another monster. “We’re both a bit busy for conversation!”

“If not now, then when?” Grabbing her scabbard in her offhand, she began lashing out with double the frequency, hoping to buy them a bit of breathing room. “I should’ve told you months ago anyway!”

“Well, then, get on with it!” Weiss growled, obviously frustrated as even more of the horrid creatures surged onto the Longwang’s top deck.

Setting her scabbard back in its place, she used her newly empty left hand to grab the woman’s right, the momentary reprieve they’d bought themselves allowing their eyes to meet.

“I’ve loved you for years,” she said, all her reading of romance novels through the years ultimately rendered useless. They didn’t have the luxury of a purple-prose laden speech to convey her intents, as the threats all around them wouldn’t give them time enough to savor the moment. It had to be quick, to the point, and it may very well be short lived… but she would regret it eternally, through whatever afterlife awaited her, if she failed to speak up now. “Through all this, every step of this adventure, I’ve fallen even further in love and I choose to give my heart to you.” The growling fury bearing down on them hastened her words. “What choice do you make?”

Blake could see how Weiss’ expression shifted as she registered the words and their meaning and a light came to her eyes. “Winter.” The Faunus’ brow furrowed in confusion as her ears fell but the woman didn’t seem to notice, turning towards the top of the wheelhouse. “Winter! Marry us!”

Standing beside the helm, the woman’s elder sister stood, a saber in one hand and a dagger in the other, fending off two of the Grimm monsters at once while shooting a glare down to the top deck. Frankly, though Winter still exuded the intimidating presence of a high ranking naval officer, Blake had come to understand the woman a little better in recent months and trusted Yang’s judgment most of all, relief suffusing her being as she finally registered Weiss’ words. Her sister, though, seemed mildly annoyed. “I’m a little busy at present, Weiss!”

“You are the captain of this ship-“

“Co-captain!”

“-and you have the authority, so do it! Marry us!”

At that moment, Yang appeared, dropping down from somewhere along the masts and using the rope in her hands to swing to Winter’s aid, delivering a brutal kick to one creature’s head while immediately launching herself in the opposite direction to throw a punch at another, somehow landing on her feet with a wide smile on her lips. Despite the fresh cuts along her arms and blood smeared across her knuckles, the woman seemed in high spirits but had always enjoyed the thrill of the fight.

“A wedding in the middle of a fight for the fate of the seas?” A full bellied laugh as she ducked a wipe swipe from yet another monster. “I’d expect nothing less from you two! If you don’t, Snowdrift, I will!”

“Oh, fine.” While using her sword to lop off the arm of an attacking monster, Winter jumped up onto the railing just in front of the wheel, somehow raising her voice to carry over the din of the raging battle. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, locked in deadly combat, to bear witness to the union of two thrice-damned souls in holy matrimony.” 

Unfortunately, what small reprieve they’d bought themselves ended at that moment, and Blake and Weiss had to jump apart to dodge another Grimm attempting to destroy them, but they turned in tandem and struck it down before turning their attention to the new wave of Grimm surging across the top deck, Winter’s voice briefly straining as she continued her speech while fending off even more attacks.

“Brought together by the raging seas of fate- you blasted barnacled bastard, can’t you see I’m busy- these two have demonstrated a will to persevere, to remain loyal to one another- Sundrop, a little help- and to support one another in this world and the next and I swear I will destroy you, now- stop- this- nonsense!”

Blake briefly looked up towards the wheelhouse, watching as Winter somersaulted over one creature and plunged her saber into its back while catching another’s claws with her dagger long enough for Yang to tackle it away, using her fists to render it unconscious or possibly dead. Meanwhile, Blake’s own blade bit into the hides of even more creatures while Weiss assisted, one delivering the first blow or blocked an attack while the other finished the cretin off, their off hands finding the other’s again and interlocking. They danced along the top deck, the rhythm of their hearts their only guide, unable to stop the smiles beginning to curl their lips despite the life threatening battle they found themselves embroiled in, because they were there, together, as they were always meant to be.

“Blake, do you take Weiss- I swear by the eleven seas- to have and to hold-“ the clanging of swords briefly rose, swelling to a crescendo punctuated by a cannonball blowing through the side of the wheelhouse “- from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, with a few of those options being considerably less likely- ah!“ The Faunus couldn’t help but wince as a claw scored along Winter’s side, incensing the woman even further. “Oh damn it all to hell and back!” Her frustration reached a boiling point as even more of the Grimm swarmed up the wheelhouse stairs to reach her, blue eyes flashing with malicious intent. “Finish the damn vows yourself!”

To her surprise, Weiss didn’t miss a beat, pulling her close by the hand as they used their blades to block two incoming attacks. “In sickness and in health, to love and cherish till death do us part.”

“And even after, yes, I do,” she replied, both of them silently counting in their heads before pushing back against their enemies, making quick work of one before dealing with the other. “And do you, Weiss, take me, to have and to hold, from this day forward-“

“Of course I do, really, as if you have to ask.” Again their swords flashed as they moved together, pushing beyond the physical limitations of one person to strike down monster after monster- a testament and demonstration that no problem, no obstacle, no force in this world or the next, could rip them asunder. “I crossed an ocean and more to find you, Blake. Now, more than ever, I do.”

The Faunus couldn’t help the way her shoulders relaxed and the goofy little smile that curled her lips. “Aw.”

The moment, perhaps, wasn’t best suited to the sentimentality, as Weiss had to dart around her to block yet another cutlass, and it seemed for every one they’d cut down, four more Grimm had sprung up in their places. “Focus, Blake.”

“By- the- power- I will rend your soul from your mangled body you pox covered cur- power vested- would you-“

As Winter struggled with defending herself twice over and continuing the speech, Yang effortlessly jumped in to join her- in more ways than one. As the woman’s fists connected and cracked bone plate after bone plate, her voice carried above the symphony of battle, a bright brass tone that cut through everything with ease.

“By the power vested in us as Captains of this ship, we now pronounce you wife and wife!” Now with help, Winter managed to switch from a mostly defensive fighting style to one that took advantage of the other woman’s presence, and together they beat back the boarding party and sent them tumbling into the tumultuous seas below. “Now kiss your bride!”

Even though they probably shouldn’t, Blake and Weiss temporarily disregarding the fight raging around them, pulling towards the other, their blades lightly crossing as their lips met. In that moment, they’d won- for all that still remained, for the strife and uncertainty they faced, it didn’t matter; they’d finally bared their hearts to one another- and the Faunus could hardly believe it. Her wildest dream come true.

“Blake! Weiss!” They jolted apart, surprised to find Ruby’s scythe deeply embedded in the chest of one monstrosity that looked like it might’ve been poised to deliver a killing blow to both of them. The young woman herself merely looked lightly annoyed, silver eyes pleading. “Priorities!”

“I make no apologies,” Weiss said, though she did lift her rapier and stab it through yet another of the Grimm that tried to take advantage of their distraction. “A pirate is always allowed to kiss her wife, Ruby, it’s in the Code.”

“They’re more like guidelines and totally not applicable when we’re fighting undead monsters conjured by a sea goddess! Please, focus!”

“More importantly.” Although still somewhat preoccupied by the enemies trying to dislodge her from the helm, Winter appeared invested enough in the conversation to offer her own viewpoint. “You can’t rightly start the honeymoon with all these uninvited guests.”

“She has a point.” Blake reluctantly admitted, her own sword flashing through the air and cutting through yet another enemy. “Let’s finish this.”

Then they surged forth, the two newly-wed brides fighting with renewed conviction, tearing through the boarding party and, eventually, finding their way onto the Grimm Reaper’s top deck themselves, eager to put the battle to an end. Beyond that, they couldn’t begin to fathom what fate awaited them but they knew the part that mattered most.

They’d face it together. --- Bonus Scene – while the battle still rages Yang: “I can’t believe those two beat us to getting married! You know what this means?” Winter: “And what’s that?” Yang: “We’ll have to beat them to having a kid!” Winter: *a beat* “Well, I suppose we’ve already accomplished that.” Yang: “Yeah, we- wait, what?” Winter: *knowing look* Yang: *blinks, then throws her fists in the air* “Whoo! I’m gonna be a momma!” Winter: “One step at a time, Sundrop, let’s focus on ‘not dying’ first and then we can address-“ *another Grimm swipes at Winter and just barely nicks her shoulder* Yang: [BEAST MODE: ENGAGE] Winter: *watches as Yang flies into a rage and begins laying waste* “… well, I suppose that’s one way to do it.” --- Y’all: “Hey, Tex, think you can write some Monochrome without featuring Elderburn?” Me:

Also, if anyone’s curious, the title is a play on Hans Zimmer’s “He’s A Pirate”, otherwise known as the Pirates of the Caribbean Theme Song, which is why there’s so many fucking musical descriptors and references throughout. A big shoutout to @maburito​ who, as usual, served as inspiration for the shenanigans.

[diaxfeliz]

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 | 𝟐.𝟓𝐤

A Genshin Impact Fanfic

➵ Character/s: n/a

➵ OC/s: Captain Pix, Ichika, H̶̛̰̼̗̖͚̺̘̳̄̂̎͘̕i̴͍̜̙̗̙̯̾͛̊͘̚k̸̢̢̢̨̹̥̥̰̦͍̒̋̈́͝ȃ̶̼̰̬̙͇͔͊͑̕t̵̨͋͝o̶̢̙̹͂͗́̊̇̒̿̿͠͝ğ̶̨̆́̑̔̈̈́ā̴̰͓͍̳̜̗ͅk̴͕̱͉̇̈́̈̾̈́̾͘̚e̶̤̟̅͝ (@a-small-glimmer-of-light​)

➵ Warning/s: none

A/N: I don’t know if you want me to tag you or not but here you go @a-small-glimmer-of-light​​ !!

•

The life of a captain is hard, and even harder being a captain of the Fatui, so once a former faction of the organization (one that the captain did not know about) rises up against against them, things get a little harder.

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•

Soft thuds sound one after another from inside Pix’s office. The sound made the people on the other side of the door curious as to what the Fatui representative was doing behind closed curtains. After the last thud, Pix sighed loudly followed by soft footsteps.

“I was gone for a few weeks.” Pix said to no one in particular in their empty office as they took down the darts that stuck out of their cork board full of reports pinned on every possible crevice. Half of the reports were missing person reports, mostly children, and the rest being either about theft or murder.

At first, Pix didn’t understand the urgent request for them to come back from Liyue by the commissioner, but now that they’re back, they realized the situation was more dire than they initially thought. The Kanjobugyo couldn’t handle the situation alone, and even with the Fatui on stand-by ready to assist however they could, they were useless on their own and needed their captain’s guidance — they needed Pix — and as much as Pix valued their work, they found the current situation ridiculously outrageous. How exactly weren't their troops able to handle the situation?

After dropping the darts into a shallow wooden bowl that sat on their desk, Pix stood in front of the cork board and put a confused hand on their hip. They squinted at the papers, mentally counting them. Too many, they counted, at least more than they were used to having on their plate.

“What happened while I was gone, Inazuma?” they mindlessly let roll off their tongue.

“Captain Pix?” A voice came from the door of their office that successfully broke Pix out of their trance. “It’s Ichika.”

“Come in.” they said with a shake of their head.

With that, in came the Kanjobugyo representative for the Fatui. Pix smiled at the young woman and turned to her as she shut the door behind her.

“Good evening, Ichika. What brings you by?” Pix asked, successfully hiding the pressure the situation had on them.

Before speaking, Ichika looked around as if checking for any potential eavesdroppers. There was a certain mischievousness in her eyes which gave Pix mildly suspicious vibes and it wasn’t exactly helping their job anxiety. As much as they appreciated her, Ichika tends to go over the top when it comes to helping Pix, and they felt this was about to be another time.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Ichika said, and immediately Pix knew it would be another thing they’d get in trouble for. Ichika took out something from her pocket and gingerly held it in her hands. “but I thought you’d want to hold onto this.”

In Ichika’s hands was a kunai sharpened to the tip that the edge gleamed from the moonlight streaming in from the window. Pix’s eyes glinted at seeing the masterpiece of a weapon. In their eyes, there were traces of elemental energy, but the kind of elemental energy that it was, they weren’t sure. Before they drifted off trying to determine the elemental energy of the kunai, they immediately snapped themselves out of their daydream and lifted their head to Ichika. There was a proud smile on her face, but it was one Pix couldn’t reciprocate.

“You said that there was a mastermind behind all this, right?” Ichika enthusiastically began. “Well, I took this from one of the scouts when they said they found it at one of the crime scenes and I just know it’s gonna help you find the man behind it all.”

Pix nervously chuckled. Not only are their own troops a handful, but so is their Kanjobugyo representative and they honestly don’t know how they can keep up with them atop the mountain of paperwork they have to deal with.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, Ichika, but you know I’m already under so much fire with your supervisors.” Pix explained, a nervous yet goofy smile on their face. “Any more and I’m sure to be ejected back to Snezhnaya.”

“I know that, but listen!” Ichika tightened her fists. Her familiar passion burned in her eyes. “I have an idea where this mastermind is.”

Having known Ichika for almost three years now, Pix knew that when she had an idea, it was going to be a valuable piece of information. They couldn’t remember the last time Ichika gave misinformation or even weak ideas. Every idea of hers was always worth a shot and Pix felt honored that they were the one Ichika tells them to.

“Alright.” Pix sighed and crossed their arms. “Let me hear it.”

“Let’s hope I don't get caught, shall we?”

Pix jumped from roof to roof as they inched their way to the harbor, the kunai Ichika had given (but had technically stolen) hidden in their sleeve. It was a moonless night, perfect for an undercover mission in the eyes of Pix. A black sleeved oversized cloak and a white fox mask they’d picked up at the local mask shop hid their appearance, and with a quick change in their gait and how they spoke, they shouldn’t be readily recognized.

Pix reached the barren harbor in a short time and camped on the roof that overlooked most of the area. Pix laid low, hidden in the shadows as they strained their eyes to watch out for similar elemental energy as that of the kunai. Pix put full trust in Ichika when she said the mastermind would be here.

So far Pix had only seen the blue of the water, green of the crates, and a hint of green in the gentle breezy wind. None of that musky, eeriness was present in the area, but Pix didn’t want to leave just yet. In the corner of their eye, Pix then noticed a Fatui agent by the ships of the nobles of the city. Curious as to why a troop of theirs is out late, they went to confront the man.

As Pix got closer, an unusual feeling began to rise in their chest. It was an oddly specific feeling that they knew they’d felt before, but that was a long time ago. It felt like the shivers they felt when their father told them stories of urban legends and the great beasts of Teyvat.

Pix jumped off the roof and landed a few feet from the agent as he continued staring at a noble’s docked boat. Pix wasn’t even spared a glance.

“Gentleman, might I inquire about your business here?” Pix said. “I had received notice back in Liyue that we were established a curfew.”

“Ah, yes. Forgive me for that, Captain Pix.” The agent began. Suddenly, the eerie feeling rose in their chest. Pix didn’t recognize his voice and they recognized all their troops' voices. ”I’m just here to take care of a few things.”

The agent quickly threw something onto the boat before being harshly tackled by Pix. They pinned him on the ground by his wrists and that’s when Pix got a good look at his uniform. They froze. It was a Pyro agent’s uniform but it was incredibly outdated. Pix had seen all versions of all uniforms and they knew this uniform dated back to before they even joined the Fatui.

The boat they stood in front of suddenly erupted into flames, knocking Pix and the agent into the large crates nearby. The flames roared and glowed brightly against the dark sky and no doubt would you be able to see it from halfway across the city. Pix hurried onto their feet and while the agent was a priority to capture, they couldn’t let the fire spread to the nearby boats.

They jumped into the dark waters, and upon their feet making contact with it, it froze, giving them the ability to walk on water. Their feet went numb casting Cryo energy, but this was a situation they needed to use their Delusion. They frantically ran around the boat occasionally using their Cryo Delusion yet again to shield themselves from the falling debris that chipped off the boat because of the flames. Their arm went numb, but they kept going.

Once they covered the perimeter of the boat, Pix jumped back onto the docks and with a swift movement of their hand. The ice around the boat closed in on the vessel and instantly froze every part of it, the fire going out with a ‘hiss’.

Pix breathed out slowly and rubbed their freezing arms, glad that the danger was gone, but they weren’t exactly glad of the outcome. The mysterious agent escaped and now the whole probably knew of this incident. They were going to face their supervisors' wrath because of this and they wouldn’t be surprised if they were going to receive a notice forcing them out of Inazuma.

Pix took out the kunai from their sleeve and held it up to the starry sky. They now recognize the weapon’s energy to be the same as that of the agent’s, and deep down, Pix knew who that agent was — or at least what group that agent’s part of. Honestly speaking, Pix was a little pissed they weren’t informed of them before arriving in Inazuma.

“I’m so so sorry, Captain Pix! I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Ichika rambled on and on about how sorry she was about landing Pix in this situation while they packed their things.

Unsurprisingly, the incident last night reached the Kanjobugyo and was pinned on the Fatui. Since Pix was their commanding officer, they received all the backlash and was ultimately asked to leave Snezhnaya as the Kanjobugyo would resolve as much as they could before allowing the Fatui to help again. Not to mention them finding the stolen piece of evidence Pix had on their person. Ichika admitted to taking it, but ultimately nothing was stopping the Kanjobugyo from temporarily evicting the Fatui out of the city.

“I am a little curious though…” Ichika began shyly. “Did you… find him? The mastermind?”

Pix hummed at her question and tucked their gun into its concealed holster strapped to the side of their chest.

“Right, him.” they said, flashing back to last night’s events, focusing most especially on the outdated Fatui uniform. “Well… I think we should save this conversation for another time, but let’s say I did.”

Hope flashed in Ichika’s eyes. “That’s good, right?”

They smiled. “Good.”

Pix really resisted the urge to say ‘frustrating’. As Ichika happily pranced around the room, Pix thought hard about them — the Fatui rejects. A long time ago, Pix was told about a faction the Fatui once had, but their personal knowledge on the faction was severely limited. All Pix knew was that the faction rebelled against the main faction, the Fatui, and because of their aggression, the Harbingers had to cut them off. Whatever happened after that, no one knows. The stories mentioned the cutting of ties with the rebel faction was more of them just never contacting each other again and leaving them to fend on their own.

It was frustrating to Pix because they weren’t told that the rebel faction everyone had been referring to all this time was in Inazuma. With the uniforms they still had, they must’ve used to to disguise themselves as Fatui and hid behind the name to protect themselves. They were hiding under their nose this entire time and they didn’t know because, as mentioned, they weren’t told about the Inazuman origins of the rebel faction.

“And of course, when I turned a blind eye on this city, that’s when they caused trouble…” Pix, eyes closed in ponder, thought aloud, catching Ichika’s attention.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Captain.” She tried consoling them, thinking she knew what Pix was talking about. “No one would’ve known that trouble would happen the moment you leave.”

“No, no one would’ve, because I was deprived of information.” Pix slung their bag over their shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, Ichika. If you can, keep me posted.”

Ichika saluted. “Will do, Captain.”

Pix swiftly left the office and headed straight for the docks.

They saw the Kanjobugyo littered everywhere desperately finding information on the situation. No one spared them a glance as they passed by and they supposed it was unsurprising by how they thought the explosion was the Fatui’s doing. To Pix, however, getting evicted from Inazuma was a loss for the Bakufu.

They sighed. Hopefully when they got home the Harbingers would believe them when they said it was because of the rebel faction which no one bothered to tell Pix about. They eventually reached the far side of the docks reserved for the Fatui and there were a handful of their troops waiting on the pier. They all lifted their heads when they saw Pix in their peripheral visions.

“Sorry about the sudden leave everyone.” Pix said with a scratch of the back of their neck. “We were framed.”

“Framed?” asked the gunslinger.

They nodded. “Let’s prepare to leave. I can tell you all about it—”

Pix was cut off by the sudden rush of wind. Leaves on the ground were carried away and their hair was whipped back. It was as if someone didn’t want them to go just yet. Out of instinct, Pix turned around them and saw a young man clad in different shades of green both in their clothing and elemental energy that surrounded him. They found them suspicious, and just like they had taught their troops, they found him suspicious too.

“Wait… that was the guy lurking outside of the headquarters last night!” the Pyro agent exclaimed and pointed an accusing finger at him. Immediately, the troops with Pix drew their weapons with an intent to hurt the young man. “Grab him!”

“I don’t really think this is necessary—” Pix tried reasoning but their troops already engaged.

Without warning or even some kind of tell, two copies of the young man made of concentrated Anemo energy separated from him and charged at their group. All of them were caught off-guard by this.

“Protect the Captain!” yelled the gunslinger and fired at the in coming copies.

As the rookies were preoccupied, Pix would’ve face-palmed at the situation if it weren’t for the young man’s sudden movement. In the blink of an eye, he charged at them, eyes burning with determination and familiar revenge. Pix extended their arm and launched icicles in an attempt to not hurt him, but freeze him in place. It was easily ducked as if it were something anticipated, alarming Pix. They didn’t know exactly what happened next, but after the sound of a familiar gunshot of a Fatui-issued firearm, they blacked out.

“Captain!” was all Pix heard before lost consciousness.

If Pix knew any better, their gunslinger misfired and accidentally hit them, but at this point in time, Pix wasn’t surprised. They had an ongoing unlucky streak so why not add feeling a pair of arms wrap around them before feeling their feet leave the ground? If Pix could chuckle, they would, because this was their first time ever being kidnapped.

[evolutionsvoid]

Though the savannas are a rather simple looking environment, they are one that is filled with a huge amount of life. Migrating herds can cover the landscape, with fields of browsers and grazers stretching all the way to the horizon. While places like rainforests win out with diversity and the bizarre array of life, the savanna wins by the sheer amount of animals you can witness in plain sight. A fresh morning and a good chair has let me see more creatures in a single day than I have seen in months in other places! This terrestrial sea of life is truly incredible to witness, but these places aren't always packed full. You will notice odd holes and gaps in herds, or stretches of land where no herbivore wishes to step foot. In a world where being in a group is vital for survival, it is strange to see loners sitting out in the open. Usually these avoided creatures are predators, which the reason should be obvious. Some may be for massive creatures that are given a wide berth as no one wishes to be stepped on or knocked about. For one beast, though, there is a special reason. They aren't elephantine or vicious carnivores, but the Catoblepas are certainly dangerous to everything around them. Found grazing in grasslands and savannas, the Catoblepas is quite the peculiar sight. Their bodies are shaped quite normally for a stout herbivore, with a hefty frame and a humped back. The large armored scales are certainly an interesting addition, but not too strange since other herbivores grow their own armor. Their long scaly tails give a reptilian vibe, but still nothing too out of the norm. Then you get to the head of this beast and things get weird. While other creatures hold their heads up high, or at least just hold them up, the Catoblepas lets its noggin just sit on the ground. It isn't temporarily down there for grazing, it stays down there for good. Their long neck seems permanently pointed downward, to the point where old tales say that lifting it upward would suffocate them as they wouldn't know how to breathe or function in this position. This certainly isn't true, but since they rarely ever lift their heads up, you can see why it got started. One of the reasons they may not pick up their heads is because it is a bit bigger than your usual noggin. Looking at their skeleton is a bit comical, because you got this long thin neck and than a chunky skull sitting at the end of it. With their head always sitting on the dirt, one wonders how they move or function. Well, the Catoblepas has come up with some special adaptations to make such an odd position work! If you look at the bottom of the mandible, you will notice it is covered in thick hairs that sprawl all over the place. It is like a beard that is being used like a skirt, but that isn't the weirdest part. Hidden beneath all that hair is a bizarre structure that is made through a unique formation of muscles. The developing and enlarging of these muscles has created something that is akin to the foot of a snail. It is pretty much a fleshy pad of muscle that allows the Catoblepas' head to slowly slither about like a slug. This makes their movements quite interesting to watch, as they must lead with their head anytime they wish to walk. Since this form of travel is sluggish, their body is left waiting for their head to move forward before they can take a single step. When grazing, they will only need their face to get the job done, so their whole body will be sitting still while their head slithers all over the place. Quite bizarre! Still, this mandibular foot does not answer all the questions about the Catoblepas' day-to-day life. If your head is stuck on the ground and you travel with your chin, how do you eat? Once again, this problem is solved by specializing certain muscles. Their lower lip is elongated and specialized to create a proboscis that is similar to an elephant's trunk. This appendage is packed with muscles that give it incredible dexterity and strength, allowing it to pull apart vegetation or yank up buried roots. It also quite sensitive to touch and taste, which it uses to probe out viable food sources. With their heads so low down, eyes aren't really that helpful. You can see this with the messy tangle of hair that constantly covers them, as they don't have much use. Instead it relies on its powerful nose to sniff out food rich areas, than its lip will locate the individual pieces. Grass will be torn and swollen roots will be pulled up and fed to its maw. The Catoblepas chews its food with a front-to-back motion rather than side-to-side, which is assisted by its mandibular foot. It spends a lot of time chewing, making sure it's ground up to an absolute pulp. This is because its dinner has to be forced up its neck to reach its stomach, so the squishier and softer the meal is, the easier it is to swallow! As a strict grazer, the Catoblepas spends a large chunk of its day seeking out and eating vegetation. This lengthy process is mainly because these creatures move at a snail's pace. They are quite slow and never in a hurry to get anywhere. When night falls, they often just sleep where they are, then wake up in the morning and continue their dining. So we got a slow loner herbivore that doesn't take cover at night and has terrible eyesight. Surely these creatures are vulnerable to predators, right? The Catoblepas is not a species that fears running into predators, it is a beast that predators are terrified of running into.

While their goofy appearance and slow ways has made them quite famous around the world, they have another thing that makes them notorious. If one already does not know the answer, then perhaps a look at its colorful display may give a hint. Lots of creatures use their coloration to hide or blend in, but there are some who choose to stand out for a very specific reason. You see, the diet of the Catoblepas is mostly vegetation, but they have specific foods they like the most. Plants tend to develop toxins and poisons to keep herbivores from eating them, and that is what the Catoblepas seeks out. Any poisonous vegetation is free game to this species, as they seem to have an incredible immunity to practically any toxin. As they consume these deadly foods, the toxins and noxious fluids are absorbed and moved to special organs. Located near the respiratory system, these vessels mix these poisons with their own secretions, turn that soup into a vapor and release them on each exhale. This results in the Catoblepas literally breathing poisonous clouds, surrounding itself in a deadly fog. One good breath will get you a lungful of Catoblepas poison and whatever plant toxins it had ingested. This dietary mixture is what makes this weapon so dangerous, as its properties are affected by what it has recently eaten. That means making an antidote or building an immunity is useless, as each cloud will contain a unique mixture of plant poisons. The side effects of inhaling this vapor will also be different each time, as it may result in things like vomiting, paralysis, blindness, swelling, itchiness, muscle spasms and so much more. Whatever the poison of a plant can do to you, the Catoblepas can weaponize and put it in the air. I heard that an Ivy Dryad once fell asleep on a hunting trip and woke up to find a Catoblepas licking her. Though she ran off before it started chewing, that particular beast spent the next few days spraying her burning oils everywhere, which the locals were not a fan of. This incredible defense is why every creature gives a Catoblepas a wide berth. Herbivores and carnivores alike want nothing to do with these beasts. There are a few creatures that can withstand this deathly fog. Dryads can tolerate it, but sometimes it can even be dangerous to us. Some plants create toxins to halt the growth of surrounding competitors, and this poison can be added to the mist. It may not be lethal to us, but it will certainly mess you up for a week or two. Ivy Dryads and their hybrids seem to have the strongest immunity, for the obvious reasons. Funny enough, some say that the art of the Venoness was inspired by the Catoblepas. You can definitely see where one would get that idea! One of the other beasts that may survive the aura of the Catoblepas is their cousins, the Khalkotauroi. These hulking brutes have been seen happily grazing besides their brethren, unfazed by the poisonous air. Honestly, if you see this duo out in the wild, keep far far away. This pairing is certainly one of the most dangerous combinations out there. A mouthful of poison will leave you choking for air, just long enough to get your body splattered across the savanna by the Khalkotauroi. As if those ornery behemoths weren't dangerous enough as it is! With this deadly aura ever present around them, you can see why very few things ever try to eat them. Any attempts must be done during windy days, when the weather blows their clouds away. Even then, one must stay upwind so that the poison isn't blown onto them, but this allows the Catoblepas to smell the attack coming. When agitated, these creatures will snort and churn out even more poison. The best method to take one down is to bait it into using up all its poisonous gas, which will take a bit. Once its stores are all used up, you may be able to attack. This still doesn't guarantee a safe kill, as the Catoblepas has another line of defense. Since it spends all its life marinating in its own vapors, the gas tends to leave a toxic residue on its body. A single cut or scratch from its scales or tusks will introduce the poison into your body. It is best to kill it from afar, aiming for its vulnerable neck. Though I have heard of some tribes hunting Catoblepas before, I certainly wouldn't do it. Every inch of them is poisonous, and the method of making their meat safe to eat is quite lengthy. Seems more trouble than it's worth! I have heard that certain Catoblepas cuts are considered a delicacy in some higher circles, and that baffles me. I have had the chance to eat their meat before and it certainly isn't anything special. It is just beef with a bit of sharpness to it, that is all. For the locals who hunt them, I understand that they need whatever food that they can get. For the rich idiots who call it a delicacy, it seems like nonsense to me. They are just eating it because it is hard to get and expensive. Maybe I should start selling Swamp Basilisk livers for a high price and see how many oafs buy it. Yeah, it taste like bog and death, but it is a delicacy! I swear! As famous creatures, you can imagine the Catoblepas has made quite the impact. Their notoriety and bright colors make them a must-see for travelers and tourists. Their colorful pelts and shiny scales are sought after by collectors and hunters, though they must be very careful when handling them! This same armor is also popular for native warriors and hunters, as it offers great defense. Practitioners of Thericorium also value the sturdiness and strength of these scales. The added color is also a nice touch! While some good can be made from these beasts, Catoblepas are very much feared when they are alive and walking about. Their poisonous fog can create a whole lot of problems, and many of these issues can lead to death. Just breathing it in is an obvious danger, and it is hazard that can take out anyone. Hunters and travelers are advised to keep close attention to their surroundings, as a nearby beast and a strong breeze can be fatal. Local hunters often refer to these beasts as the "Killer of Fools" and a tool of the gods to weed out the sloppy and stupid. In their eyes, every hunter should be aware of their surroundings and be mindful of the beasts and environment. To be caught in the cloud either means you missed the big colorful ungulate that was shuffling about or you weren't paying attention to the wind which is vital for taking down prey undetected. Screw any of those two up and you are no hunter! Those out hunting the wilds, though, aren't the only ones who must fear its poison. Farmers and livestock owners must be sure to keep any of these beasts away, lest they poison their animals or leave a toxic residue on their crops. This can destroy one's livelihood, but some have found an advantage to this deadly fog. One local tale speaks of a farmer whose crops were spared from a locust plague due to a Catoblepas being nearby. This taught the people the idea of pest control, and using specialized poisons to protect their plants. There is a famous plantation in these lands that is run by Ivy Dryads and actually keeps several Catoblepas on the property. Immune to its poisons, they feed these beasts certain plants and mixtures so that their fog is tuned to warding off pests and parasites. It also has the added bonus of keeping away thieves, as these crops are poisonous until they are properly cleaned. It seems like a risky bet to me, but apparently their produce is top notch, so what do I know? To properly and thoroughly wash my fruits and vegetables is what I know! Catoblepas are also carefully watched to make sure they don't go near the village's water source. Though the small amount of fog that touches the water may be diluted and neutralized, having a Catoblepas dunk itself for a bath will certainly cause some havoc. There is even a famous story that speaks of two greedy brothers that angered the gods, which involved one of these incidents. Apparently this duo was taking more from the land than they were giving, hunting and killing every beast they saw. A Catoblepas was sent by the gods to stop them, but the clever brothers drove it into a pond where the water washed away all its poison. They then killed it and hacked off its tusks as trophies. After a few more days of butchering the local wildlife, they headed back home to their family for a celebration. The whole family cooked up their spoils and had a feast. During this indulgent banquet, though, everyone grew sick and died. It turned out that the mother of the two had gone and drawn water from this pond after they had killed the Catoblepas. This poisoned drink was unknowingly served to the whole family and struck them down. This tale no doubt drove many to come up with ways to keep these beasts away from their homes and resources. Funny enough, one of the ways to ward off these creatures is to put up low fences or sharp stakes on the ground. Since it can't really lift its head, any obstacle that it can't crawl over is avoided. I mean, if you had to walk with your face, you wouldn't be all that adventurous either!         Due to their anatomy and poisonous aura, the Catoblepas has been used to describe a certain condition. It is called Catoblepas Syndrome, and it plagues researchers, archivists and students alike. It arises during long periods of intense research, or when exams are on the horizon. Those who hole themselves up to study and read for hours on end, burying their faces in books and scrolls. Permanently hunched over their desks and work stations, their necks forever point downward into their notes. As they feverishly read and write, they neglect proper hygiene and cease to bathe, resulting in the most putrid of smells! Friends, families and coworkers alike are driven away by this deathly cloud, fearful of the monster that created it! Truly this tragic disease has claimed many obsessed researchers, nearly taking me in its clutches! Thankfully I was saved by a coworker who got me to take a break and a bath! Disaster averted! Ha! But seriously, for all you studious folk out there, be sure to take a break from your work from time to time. A strong mind is a healthy mind! And be sure to bathe too, the whole world will thank you for that!   I do have to say, I am very thankful that my work on these creatures is done through writing and not through verbal presentation. Their name is an absolute nightmare for me to pronounce and I am happy I have not humiliated myself on stage trying to say it. Props to the researchers who do speak to audience about the Catoblepas and nail the pronunciation every time. If it were me, people would be learning about the wonders and adaptations of the Catobleyplebusmoos. Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian ------------------------------------------------- This thing took me waaaay too many tries to draw. I would get halfway done and think "nah this sucks," then try again. After three times, I finished the piece, colored it in and said "nah this sucks." The colors were what killed the last version, as I went with bland grays and browns. I was trying to do the dumb "mammals are drab earthy colors" thing, but that is a boring restriction I somehow have. Mammals come in all sorts of colors, so there is no excuse. Then I also got to thinking that poisonous animals rarely want to blend in, as they advertise their dangerous nature quite blatantly. I figured a famously noxious creature like the Catoblepas would believe in aposematism and would make sure the whole world knew they were there. My sister picked out the ring-necked snake as an inspiration (which turns out isn't all that dangerous, but dang those colors are good) and I went with that! So these beasties are a lot more colorful now! May seem quite odd out in the middle of a savanna or grassland, but I think any creature would respect the visual warning from a beast that spews clouds of death.

[jkl-fff]

Scooby-Doo “Gritty” Reboot Idea (part 1)

“Gritty” because it’d acknowledge some dark realities  (like physical and emotional abuse especially of children,  drugs and drug addiction, sex work, violence and death)  and would deal with some darker lore. But all while still having goofy  and slapstick overtones (a la Season 2 of “Gravity Falls”).

THE CHARACTERS:

Daphne African-American redhead, freckled, tall, slender, conventionally gorgeous.

She’s the only child from a wealthy family … but one that is, unfortunately,  very christian-conservative and obsessed with their reputation  as respectable; she’s always been pressured to conform to traditionally “feminine” and “christian” standards of behavior and appearance. As a result, she has flawless fashion sense and makeup skills,  is an excellent dancer, singer, and pianist,  and can navigate high society with ease …   But also as a consequence, her “unfeminine” or “unchristian” inclinations  (being assertive, liking combat sports, a fascination with the macabre,  and not being 100% straight in both her sexuality and her identity) have been disparaged and discouraged, making her reticent about  her true feelings and interests—she closes herself off from others  and doesn’t share those parts of herself easily.

Her initial associations to the others were limited,  since their families didn’t walk in the same social circles at all. However,  she and Velma have some AP classes together, and often talk about paranormal and occult things.

Velma Latina-American, near-sighted, wavy haired, petite, chubby,  cute as a particularly cute button.

Her parents are both lower income, always working to provide for her  and her 5 siblings (she’s #3), so she’s grown up with a homelife  that’s very loud, cramped, and … well, not *negligent* per se, because  her parents do the best they can with the time they aren’t working …  but let’s just say it’s a homelife without a lot of parental presence  (they never have a lot of free time, plus she’s the middle child).  Teachers became a kind of surrogate parent figure for her,  which reinforces a pre-existing tendency to retreat into a world of books  and school activities in order to have some personal space.  On the plus side, this means she’s extremely intelligent and independent,  and already a fantastic researcher. However, on the negative side,  she’s an extreme perfectionist and somewhat desperate for approval  from others, especially from authority figures (which leads to anxiety).  Being shy, she doesn’t have the best social skills, and thus doesn’t have  a lot of friends … thus hasn’t realized yet she’s bi/pan, and also demi.

Besides knowing Daphne from AP classes, she knows Fred because  their dads work together and would drag the family to work-family functions. They both showed up to one with a book about supernatural stuff to read  off in a quiet corner somewhere, and hit it off; they hang out every time  they go to one of those functions, but aren’t in any of the same classes.

Fred European-American, blond and sorta-plain-sorta-cute, strong and burly,  not particularly tall or thin.

Fred is the only son of a low-income widower, so he’s had to assist  his father’s mechanical work from a young age. As a result, he’s now  a pretty good mechanic in his own right.  They’re close, but his father’s very much a “my way or highway” person; plus, since his father has some close-minded ideas about gender,  Fred’s been pressured into stereotypical “masculinity” from a young age (camping, hunting, sports like football/baseball then wrestling and boxing  when it was clear his physique was better suited to those,  never showing “weak” feelings, etc.) with “girly” stuff that interested Fred (like fashion and acting, magic, the supernatural … and bi/pan attraction)  being belittled to the point that he’s developed some self-loathing  for even wanting to engage with them. He keeps doing so in secret,  of course, he just also feels ashamed of it.

Besides knowing Velma, he’s lived on the same street as Shaggy  and been in some of the same classes since they were 12 or so.  They aren’t exactly friends, but they do more-or-less know each other.

Shaggy Asian-American, a lanky beanpole with a runner’s physique,  handsome in an angular/bony way people either really like or don’t.

Because his parents died when he was 12, he’s being raised by his aunt  and her “roommate” (lesbians in a smallish town gotta keep it on the DL).  Both are extremely loving and supportive, which is good because  the incident that killed his parents left him with some major issues:  PTSD, panic attacks, depression and the like.  They bought him a therapy dog, which has helped a lot in treating  the more acute symptoms. They’ve taught him to try to talk about it,  but sometimes the overwhelming pain of it makes him go mute;  when he tries to express it artistically like they encourage him to do,  the stuff he produces sometimes scares the heck out of him (he hates it, thus he hates the paranormal).  His preferred coping methods are cooking then eating, or running;  both have developed, actually, with him becoming an amazing cook …  and being first in regional competitions for cross country and hurdles.  While he’s not public about being attracted to boys as well as girls  (because, again, smallish town), he has told his aunts,  who are extremely loving and supportive about that, too (because they rock).

He sorta knows Fred because they’ve been neighbors  and gone to the same school for years.  His best friend is Scooby, his therapy dog.

Scooby A loveable but clumsy lummox of a Great Dane mix.

Shaggy’s therapy dog, he has an uncanny sense for when  his boy needs him; on occasion, he has jumped the house’s fence  and loped to the nearby school when his boy had a sudden panic attack. However, the aunts joke that the mixed part of his breed is with  a Scaredy Cat, because he startles almost as easily as his boy does,  is wary around strangers … and doesn’t seem to realize how huge he is (he will frequently try to climb into people’s laps, like a cat).

He is utterly devoted to Shaggy (and vice versa),  but is otherwise just an ordinary dog … Or is he?

Their Roles in Mystery Inc.

Daphne: the Financier (pays for hotels and food) and later the Fighter (gets good at kicking ass), good at schmoozing witnesses, sometimes feels insecure  like she only really contributes money

Velma: the Brains (researches, documents cases) and later the Bruja (experiments with magic and develops some skill), mostly an optimistic ray of sunshine, sometimes feels insecure  like she’s always helpless

Fred: the Mechanic (owns the van and takes care of it) and the Muscle (stronk boi), good at pep talks, sometimes feels insecure  like he only really contributes is their vehicle

Shaggy (with Scooby): the Medium (interact deeply with the spirit world,  albeit unwillingly) and the Muse (the heart of the group—everyone luvs and proteccs), good at cooking and comedy, usually feels insecure all the time like he’s just useless in general and a coward

[cheeseeatingtrashmonster]

Reakumatized

LadyNoir July day 26: Undercover Date/Freefall. Thanks @lovesquare-squad

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Read the whole month on AO3

"Chat. Chat!"

He was frozen. Or, maybe he was moving and the world around him was frozen.

"Kitty, sweetie, I need you to tell me what's wrong."

Ladybug stepped into his line of sight and Chat was able to draw a deep breath again.

"Can you hear me?"

"I... it's... seeing him." That was more coherent than he expected.

"It looks like him, but it's not," she whispered, her hands raising to frame his face. "Remember? It's not him. This isn't Hawkmoth, it's Greyling."

"My akuma will defeat you!" Felix gave a flourish of his cane to accompany this. Their "battle" had barely started. Master Fu had been turned into The Grumbler and was going around with his walking stick, hitting people with it. When hit, the person would turn into a copy of him and sit down wherever they were and start meditating. He had been right, he made for a terrible supervillain.

"And he's a giant ham that can't act," Ladybug said with a chuckle. "We should have told him to be quieter."

"No," Chat said, shaking his head between her hands. "That's good, actually. That sounded nothing like him."

"Can you do this?" she asked. "It's okay if you can't, we can find another way."

"You'll be by my side?" Chat asked, his hands coming up to grip her wrists. She nodded. "Then I can do anything."

"That's my strong Kitty," she said, brushing his hair back. "Ready?"

"Ready."

She stepped back, and this time, Chat could see the differences. His father didn't hold himself like that. His father didn't have to muffle laughter when Chat's kick failed to connect. His father didn't mutter encouragements and suggest improvements in fighting form mid-battle. This wasn't his father. They had already defeated him.

They removed "Hawkmoth's" miraculous on the roof of Notre Dame, Felix being far enough from the eyes of the crowd that his identity would be safe with only a jacket hood protecting his face. Rena Rouge created an illusion to disguise him, and the heroes took their "prisoner" off into the night.

They released Felix in a dark corner and wished him and Bridgette well. Chat held his fist out to his partner, his eyes on Felix’s back. She didn’t respond.

“You okay?” Chat asked, turning to see Ladybug leaning heavily on the wall behind them.

“He asked who you were,” she said, closing her eyes. “When I was akumatized. He asked, and the only reason I didn’t tell him is because I didn’t know.”

Chat leaned on the wall next to her, waiting for her to come to him, if she wanted to.

“Good thing we didn’t know then,” he said.

“Good thing.”

/*****/

The next day they held a press conference.

"Hawkmoth has been defeated," Ladybug said. "His miraculous has been returned to the right hands. The man who was Hawkmoth has been handed to the proper group to deal with. We cannot name this group. The defeat of Hawkmoth was a team effort, and I would like to thank-"

Chat stopped listening to Ladybug's speech about there. He had helped her write it the night before, after the "defeat". His job was to smile and look pretty. He was good at that.

One of the first questions after her speech threw them off. "Who was that akuma the other night that looked like Ladybug? We never got a statement and lost track of the fight after the akuma carried Chat Noir off. We never saw Ladybug on the scene at all."

The heroes exchanged glances. They hadn't talked about how to address Ladybug's akumatization to the press.

"She was defeated when Ladybug did show up. She asked for privacy, and we're respecting that," Chat said. The relief on Ladybug's face was brief but strong.

When the press questions had died down, the Mayor said a few (read: many) words before declaring the day before an official holiday for the city, Miraculous Day. Chat zoned out again, but it sounded like another statue was being commissioned of them. Oof. When the Mayor finally finished speaking, Chat was beyond ready to get out of there.

"Ready for our date, My Lady?" he asked, a little too close to a microphone.

"Chat Noir! Will this date be as superheroes, or have you two revealed your identities?" yelled Alya from the crowd.

"Uhh..." He glanced at Ladybug and her wide-eyed expression matched the one he felt on his own face. "No comment! Have a nice day!"

They took off, overcome with a fit of giggles.

"I guess this is now officially a fake date," Chat said as they landed in an alley together.

"But we really are dating now," Ladybug said, detransforming. "So it's a real date."

"But we're going on a date as Adrien and Marinette," he said, detransforming and grabbing her hand. "And the public knows about it. So wouldn't that make it fake?"

"How about..." Marinette pulled him close and kissed his nose, "it's an undercover date?"

"It sound so sneaky," he said. "But we're right out in the open."

"Exactly." They entered the movie theater and ordered snacks, settling into a row of the mostly empty theater.

"Are you seeing your dad later?" Marinette asked as she handed him the popcorn.

"Yeah. He has more questions. I'm a little nervous about keeping up two lies now: his supervillainy and being Chat."

"Does it help that you didn't know for most of the time? Can you think back on what you thought at the time, instead of what you know now?"

"That's what's been carrying me through this," he said. The credits started and he leaned his head on Marinette's shoulder. "Do you think he really can get better? That stuff Plagg and Tikki said about misusing a miraculous amplifying the worst parts of you?"

"I hope so," Marinette said, shifting to put her arm around him. "You deserve the best father in the world."

"Guess I'll have to marry you and share yours then."

They froze. Plagg started cackling from his shirt.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?"

Marinette was bright red and unresponsive for the rest of the credits and into the first five minutes of the movie. She had to ask Adrien to explain what was going on when she tuned back in.

When the movie ended, the awkwardness had disappeared. They went for a walk in the park, hand in hand with equally goofy smiles on their faces. Eventually they ended up in front of the bakery, and it was time for Adrien to see his father.

"I still can't believe I'm dating Ladybug," he whispered in her ear as he hugged her goodbye.

"Text me when you're headed home?" she asked.

"Of course, My Lady."

/*****/

Gabriel looked better, more color returned to his face and his expression pinched in pain less frequently.

“Are you dating your classmate, the one whose parents own a bakery?”

“How could you possibly know that already?” Adrien asked. He was barely in the room and Marinette hadn’t even told the other girls in class beyond Alya yet.

“I have my ways. I didn’t know you two were close.”

“Her best friend is dating my best friend, we see each other all the time. She sits directly behind me in almost every class. We were in that gaming competition together until I dropped out. I helped translate when-”

“I was not questioning you,” Gabriel interrupted. “Merely expressing surprise. Are you happy?”

Adrien couldn’t remember the last time his father had asked that.

“Very.”

“Good.” After an awkward pause, he asked, "What can you tell me about the heroes and the villain they recently defeated?"

"Ladybug is so cool," Adrien said. He started in on a rant about her as only a lovesick fool can do. He eventually remembered to mention Chat Noir and Hawkmoth before circling back to Ladybug.

"Do you think Hawkmoth may have been involved in my injury or accident or whatever it was that led to my hospitalization?" Gabriel asked.

"Oh, no, I don't think so," he said, scratching the back of his neck and trying not to look nervous.

"But I was brought in by Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"Oh, yeah, you were. I just... assumed it was a mugging?"

"But my wallet was still on me when I arrived. That's how they identified me."

"Oh."

"I saw the recording of the fight with Hawkmoth, and the press conference this afternoon. I don't remember anything about the miraculous at all. I remember a lot of my work of the past few months, but absolutely nothing about the one thing everyone in the city knows."

"Minds are mysterious things," Adrien said.

"Yes, they are."

Adrien didn't like the suspicion in his father's eyes, so he distracted him with more work talk. He didn't have any photoshoots scheduled any time soon, so he asked about setting one up. Gabriel insisted that was useless until he got "a new Nathalie" and they started looking into replacement assistants.

Adrien left that afternoon wondering if keeping his father from finding out his own past would be harder than he thought.

/*****/

Marinette went up into her room and texted Alya. They hadn't given any details to their friends about how they got together, and it was making Reporter Alya a little crazy.

Alya: did he at least say what about you he finally noticed?

Marinette thought about this. Did he say what it was he liked about her? Even just a minute ago, he said he couldn't believe he was dating Ladybug, not Marinette. What did he like about the super-less side of her? Did he like the super-less side of her? She thought back over their date. He had even called it a "fake" date since it wasn't with Ladybug, hadn't he? But she was Ladybug! But did he see it that way? Her thoughts spiraled from there.

Marinette was a strong person, even before her miraculous. She was also human, and part of being human is having feelings. Doubt, fear, sadness, anger, self-esteem issues are all normal, and she told herself over and over afterwards that she did nothing wrong, that feeling bad things does not make her bad person, it makes her a real person. But it took her awhile to get there.

When the butterfly landed on the elastic holding her pigtail in place during a spike in those feelings, it didn't do anything at first. It sat there, waiting, while she continued to try not to cry. It had only needed an opening to attach. Now, even as her feelings started to even out again on their own, it just had to keep waiting.

"Marinette? Isn't it time for patrol?" Tikki asked, flying over to her. She saw the look on her face and reached out a paw to her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, wiping at the tears that had gathered in her eyes but not fallen.

"Marinette, something's wrong," Tikki said, feeling the energy in Marinette the second her hand touched her face. "Don't transf-"

"I'm fine, I swear! I just have to..." she sniffled a little, "to ask Chat a couple questions tonight. Spots on!"

Two transformations washed over her, and she felt a bolt of panic when she saw the spreading black-purple crawling over her skin.

"Spots-" She tried to call off her transformation.

But it was too late.

"Ladybug?" a voice in her head asked.

"Hello, again, Hawkmoth. You called me Lovebug last time."

[ericcmontgomery-blog]

anywhere else but here || self para

The sky was a beautiful mix of orange and pinks, the sun daring to peak over the iconic Boston skyline. Eric sat on the edge of his run down bike, his hands gripping the handlebars as a soft sigh escaped his lips. At the ripe age of 16 the boy was eager to get his day started, never finding sleep the night before despite the countless attempts. His jansport bag slung over his shoulders weighed heavy on his back, a wide variety of drugs within as he begun his workday. Eric was the sole provider for his family, his mom tried to help, worked at a diner in Mattapan but it only got them so far. He had to step up, be the man his father never was. He had three younger sisters he had to look out for and he wasn’t about to allow them to grow hungry. 

Pushing hard on the pedals of his bike Eric took off down an alley, making his usual rounds to the slums of Boston, finding his clients with ease, most of which being the crowd he hung around with, some hood rats just like him. His hoodie resembled multiple burn holes, his jeans too small and raggedy to be deemed appropriate to wear. But he made it work, he had to. By noon he had made an easy $400, that would pay half the electric and he could scrape together a few more deals to get them enough for dinner. 

“AYO KING!” A shout caught his attention, a smirk pulling on his lips as he immediately recognized the voice, Jose. Jose was Eric’s best friend. They lived directly next to one another, knew one another since they could walk, they struggled the same, they hustled the same. “What’s up man, takin’ over my turf?” he teased, riding over to the boy, exchanging their usual handshake as he looked around, adjusting the strap on his bag. “Nah, don’t gotta worry i’m just re-upping, heading out to Dorchester to help my buddy out with some last minute shit, he’s a bit low.” Jose explained. Dealers in Boston had an understanding of where and where not to deal. It was a silent deal, mostly enforced with a beating or worse, a shooting. 

“Dorchester eh? Not bad, should make a heavy profit.. make sure you’re not getting fucked over.” Eric warned, his hand resting on his friend’s shoulder as he shot him his usual goofy smile. “Come with then, be an extra eye over my shoulder.” Jose proposed, winking at him. Eric weighed the options, checking his phone before agreeing. “Fuck it, don’t have to be back to the girls until five when Ma heads out.. Let’s go.” he nodded and the pair begun to ride out of the heart of the city, finding easy back streets and short cuts towards the ghetto. 

The ride out begun to make Eric grow weary. He noticed a particular car following them to their destination, something wasn’t right. “Yo Jose.. hold up follow me.” Eric called out to his friend far ahead, nodding to cut down a small passage. They managed to lose their tail, ending up with the man Jose was assisting. The deal went easy, they got an even cut and assured business as usual. They exchanged in brief conversation that ended in a positive new area for Eric and Jose to deal their business, the dealer they were talking to needing some extra hands on the streets. 

Before Eric could nod to Jose to leave the sound of tires squealing interrupted them, his eyes shot up, the same car he thought he had lost was speeding down their street showing no intentions of stopping. Eric always held a gun on him, he knew better than to not protect himself and he immediately pulled it out, as soon as he was able to train it on the car a man emerged from the passenger seat, firing several shots in their direction. Eric tried his best to reach Jose, tackling them to the ground behind a dumpster as he peaked up, firing his own shots at the car that had already managed to get away. “FUCK” he yelled, his eyes darting around to see if they were coming back. 

“King..” the voice was weak, cut off by a gasp of air and the struggle to breathe. “Jose!” he shouted, turning to see his friend grasping his stomach, his eyes wide as he tried to sit up. “No! No fuck no” he stammered, dashing over to his friends side, holding his head in his lap, his eyes searching for the wound as he attempted to cover it. “SOMEONE CALL 911″ He shouted, his eyes streaming with tears as he tried to hold pressure, his friend staring helpless at the sky. “E.. E.. man I can’t..” he coughed, blood trickling down his cheek. “No, don’t talk, you’re fine, you’re going to be fine.” he replied, his hands desperately attempting to hold the wound but it was useless, blood kept pouring out and showing no sign of stopping. “Er-” Jose began before his face grew pale, his words being cut short, a final breath passing his lips. 

Everything after Jose’s passing was a blur. Eric was pulled from his friends body by police, his hands covered in the other’s blood, his body numb as he tried to fight his way back only to be held, sobbing. All he wanted to do was get back on his bike and find the man, he never would. 

Moments after the shooting Eric was released, his gun being taken away from him under the assumption it was Jose’s. His body was numb, his eyes swollen with an emotionless expression as he made his way back home, walking most of the way as his body could barely handle getting back on his bike. It took him over an hour to get back to his apartment, carelessly dropping his bike on the curb as he pushed himself into the door, his mom waiting impatiently for him to arrive. “ERIC MATTHEW DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I’VE BEEN WAITING?!” the screams didn’t effect him, he simply shook his head, attempting to  move around him and get to his room. Her gasp stopped him as she gripped his shoulders, seeing the blood on his shirt. “Eric.. baby what...” she began and he simply collapsed in her arms in a wreck of sobs and misunderstood words. “He’s dead ma...” was all he could get out, unable to control himself.

They never caught the men who killed Jose, in his mind they never tried. Headlines spoke only ill will about the boy, drug dealer killed.. another one off the streets.. gang violence was nothing new and the citizens of Boston didn’t blink an eye. It was as if no one cared, that he was just another thug that deserved it. 

Boston wasn’t the same without Jose. Eric went back to dealing, a cold hard shell wrapped around a boy who should not have had to deal with that type of loss. He showed no emotion, he held no personal relationships and he stayed vigilant. Jose’s death stays with him, the memory of his friend living on with a tattoo of his own nickname on his back, King. He didn’t know how to move on but his little sisters stayed true to his side, providing the only true side of humanity in his life.

“We love you King..” the youngest one mumbled behind the eldest sister, holding her leg as she nervously stared at him, her eyes swollen with tears. “And we miss you..” the middle sister spoke, her voice a bit louder and more confident. It was then that Eric showed the last true feelings over the cause, moving over to encase them in a hug, his sobs wrecking over his body once more as they held him, a broken boy in the shell of a man. 

[kyotocaitlyn]

Long Term Care: What Dementia Taught me about Life, Nursing, and Love

If some one had told me the day I graduated with my fancy bachelor’s degree in biology that I would spend over a year working in a long term care facility on a lock-down memory care unit, I would have shook my head and laughed at them.  Geriatric medicine was not something in my well-thought out life plan.  

No, my plan was to work as a medical scribe for a while and then apply for a physician’s assistant program.  When all that was over with, I’d finally be able to begin my career working in pediatric medicine, something that has been my dream for over ten years.  That was my life plan that I had designed and it seemed full-proof.  A program called PhysAssist Scribe was going to provide online training and after I had completed the online training, they were going to assist me in finding a scribe job near me.  I was already enrolled and thus my summer post college began.  Like most post-college plans, though, this plan fell through within a few weeks.  My typing speed was excellent, as was my ability to hear and understand what was begin said so I could scribe.  My down side was spelling.  I could not spell any of the medication names to save my life and it clogged up my overall time spent on a patient’s chart.  So, without any warning or indication from PhysAssist, I was let go from the program.

I was devastated.  I was that 22-year-old college graduate with a mostly useless degree living at home with my parents and little siblings with no plan and no job.  I felt hopeless and aimless as a nearly four-month long process of applying for entry level laboratory jobs began.  I was rejected from every job I applied to.  By the end of August and the pressure of having to pay for student loans loomed closer, I began to panic.  I had no idea what I was going to do.  There was one thing, though, that I had told my self I would never do.  I would never get my CNA and work in a nursing home.  I knew about the poor conditions, the back-breaking labor, the emotional turmoil, and the way people saw CNAs.  They saw them as nothing more than butt-wipers, not the essential back bone of modern health care.  I wanted nothing to do with that.  But there was a nursing home literally 5 minutes away from my house with a hiring sign up that whole summer.  As September inched closer and I got desperate, I knew I had no choice.  That nursing home offered in-house certification classes while working full time and I knew they would essentially hire me on the spot.  

So, I swallowed my pride and applied.  I got a call and a phone interview right away and soon, I was in orientation.  I was terrified.  I both knew what to expect and had no idea what to expect at the same time.  I was being thrown head-first into patient care in a field I never even wanted to be a part of.  I was surrounded by people of various walks of life in that class and always felt out of place because of my knowledge, my background, and my degree.  My bosses ranged from people with associates degrees to RNs, some of whom had little to no respect for me or what I was going to be doing for a living.  I had never felt more out of place in my life.  I wanted nothing more than to just quit and work in customer service or something but I knew better.  The patient care experience was going to be irreplaceable and help me get into whatever PA or nursing program I wanted to go to.  This was something I had to do and I knew that.  So I was going to tough it out for how ever long I needed to.

My first day of on the job training had me on the memory care unit.  That unit was small, only 20 residents, and was locked down meaning if the doors leading in or out of the unit were opened without the code, an alarm would sound.  The unit was designed specifically with dementia and Alzheimer’s in mind.  It gave them a safe place to wander (a common symptom of dementia), gave them a place for stimulation and activities, and a place for them to get the specialized care they need and deserve.  Those first few minutes on the unit were the scariest of my life.  I had never been personally touched by dementia so I genuinely had no idea what to expect.  I stood next to my trainer, watching quietly as these elder people wandered with walkers or wheelchairs around the unit, congregating in the TV area.  They looked at me from a distance, trying to size up this new person in their home.  Consistency is crucial for dementia and Alzheimer’s patients so throwing a new person into the mix can cause anxiety and behaviors.  But, as the night went on (I was on second shift until about August of this year), I slowly felt less scared.  The residents began talking to me and though sometimes it made little to no sense (word salading was common as was just talking nonsense or talking as if it was a totally different time or place) it made me feel better.  

Over the course of my on the job training, I spent two more days on that unit and two in other sections of the building.  When I wasn’t on the dementia unit, I felt out of place and even sort of missed it down there.  Most people I worked with disliked the dementia unit.  They didn’t like all the behaviors, the combativeness, and felt like that unit was mostly “baby-sitting”.  A lot of my coworkers felt like because of their dementia, there was a barrier between themselves and the residents, a barrier that might even prevent forming real, genuine relationships. A lot of my coworkers also didn’t seem that concerned with forming relationships with the residents at all.  They showed up, barely did their job and left people soaked, and then left.  That attitude struck me as odd because in my mind, if you were going to be spending eight hours a day or more with those same residents for days on end, you should want to build a relationship with them.  It would make caring for them easier.  Despite all this, there was a thought in my mind that no matter how much I cared for or loved those residents, their dementia would make it nearly impossible for them to reciprocate.  That didn’t really matter to me, though, because each and every day I went in and loved on those people regardless.  Their ability to connect or understand or even know my name didn’t matter.  I loved them and planned on caring for them like they were members of my own family.

Over the course of many months, I began to learn things about those residents and began to notice how many “I love yous” we shared during a shift.  I never knew if they were genuine or just saying it because they felt like it was the right thing to say in that moment, but it always felt nice to hear.  I began advocating for my residents, suggesting new therapies and requesting more help each and every day I worked.  I would bug dietary when they neglected their jobs to the point that they hated seeing it was my unit calling.  I stood up to the other CNAs who belittled my unit, calling it nothing more than “babysitting”.  I would let people know how draining the unit could be, both physically and emotionally.  I would leave in tears many nights because I would get punched by someone who claimed to love me.  I would get yelled at, spit on, ridiculed, teased, and sexually touched by these people who told me they loved me just minutes before.  I knew it was their disease doing it, not them.  I knew they truly didn’t know what they were doing 90% of the time and probably really did care about me.  But the behaviors were hard to work with.  The yelling, the pinching, the hitting were hard to endure day in and day out.  But I did it.  I got bit.  I got felt up.  I got kicked in the shins.  I got my hair pulled.  I got kneed in the face.  I got my wrists squeezed and twisted.  I did it for months because all that bad stuff, while it was hard, never made the impact on my soul that the good stuff did.

The gentle hand holds.  The soft conversations as I got them ready for bed.  The laughs we shared when the residents would say something so goofy that I couldn’t help but laugh.  The hugs I got.  The compliments.  The words of encouragement that somehow despite the dementia they knew I needed to hear.  The way they would laugh during showers when I’d wash their feet because they’re ticklish.  The time spent sitting behind the nurses’ desk with Little Bean.  The time spent learning German so I could communicate better with my German-speaking resident.  The hours I spend coloring and handling soft toys.  The games of balloon toss.  All those good things left a bigger impact than all the nasty behaviors that the dementia was doing to them and me.  I was slowly learning how terrible dementia really was but how blessed I was to be working with them.  Dementia was horrible but these people were incredible.  I loved them all so much, even though I knew the dementia could make it hard for them to love me back.

During the summer, a resident that resembled my late grandma began actively dying.  She had had increased edema in both legs, weeping, a strange red blotchy rash that caused her no discomfort, and a low grade fever.  She had no real symptoms of anything outside of the edema that everyone assumed was from her CHF that was more or less not an issue.  The only other thing I was really worried about with her was that she had a decrease in appetite.  Whenever I’d bring these issues up to a nurse, they’d shrug it off because she was 98 and on hospice.  That response always made me clench my jaw, but I put up with the ignorance and kept bringing my concerns up.  When she started dying, I went to see her and her chin would quiver a little when I’d talk to her.  She passed peacefully with no pain, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we could have done something more for her if someone had just listened to me and taken my concerns seriously.

A couple weeks before that resident began dying, my Bean was moved to a different floor.  I shared my concerns about her moving to a crowded, over-stimulating floor with a member of nurse admin.  I told this nurse that I was worried that my anxious Little Bean would be stranded at the nurses’ desk in an unfamiliar floor with people everywhere, phones going off, and call lights buzzing and fall out of her wheel chair because she was unsupervised.  I told the nurse that I was terrified that one fall would be the one that killed her and I was brushed off.  I was told that I was favoring Bean over the community and that I should think better of the aides on other floors.  I visited that resident everyday she was up there until one night, the scenario I described happened.  Bean was stranded at the nurses’ desk late at night and fell, hitting her head.  She began to actively pass later that morning.  I was devastated.  I cried practically all shift when I found out that my Bean, the Bean whom I had shared so many moments with over the last year, was in pain and dying.  I went to see her that night, kneeling next to her bed and sobbing.  Then I noticed Bean was rolling toward me.  Her lips were moving like she wanted to say something to me, but couldn’t, and she squeezed my hand.  It was then that I realized that dementia didn’t prevent these people from loving.  No, it was a mutual relationship Bean and I shared.  I meant as much to her and she meant to me.  Little Bean loved me and I knew it then more than I had ever known it before.  Yes, dementia is an ugly terrible disease but when a person with dementia says they love you, they mean it.  They mean it with their entire being.  Yes, they might think you’re their mother, their sister, or their daughter, but they mean it when they say it.  They know you aren’t just some stranger.  They may not know your name, but they know you.  They trust you and they love you.  Believe me, they love you.

After little Bean passed, I began thinking about everything my residents have taught me and now that I have worked my last shift at that facility, a certain thing keeps creeping up in my head.  There’s a verse in the Bible about what love is and it’s all I can think about.  My residents have taught me so much about love and I didn’t even know it until one of them that I loved so dearly left this earth to go be with Jesus.  The verse is 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 and it reads, 

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

My residents taught me that love really is all of these things.  Love is patient.  Love is having to explain to a confused person why they cannot leave the locked unit 1,000 times a day and having to do it with a smile on your face each time.  Love is being able to patiently take the seemingly endless slaps and yelling, all while being friendly and professional.  Love is choosing to be patient, even when those behaviors seem unmanageable and you’re at your wits end.  Love is kind.  Love is showing unbelievable kindness to someone who was literally just beating up on you minutes before.  Love is just smiling and nodding when someone is being cruel to you, but you know it’s the dementia talking.  Love is choosing to be kind to someone who more than likely is not kind to you in that moment.  Love does not envy.  Love is knowing that while it’s okay to long for something more or something better, that there is no good in envying what others have.  Love does not boast.  Love is knowing that you are no better than anyone else.  Love is choosing to be humble.  Love does not dishonor others.  Love is choosing to be genuine and honest, even when it’s hard.  Love is not self-seeking.  Love seeks to build others up, not tear them down.  Love is knowing that you’ll get peed on or beat up on, but doing it because it is right and it is good.  Love is not easily angered.  Love is knowing how frustrating your job is, but never showing your frustration or even anger to the residents because you know they cannot help the way they are acting.  Love really does keep no records of wrongs.  When a resident does hit or yell or spill bodily fluids on you, you do not throw that in their face to use it against them.  Love is forgetting they were cruel, just as they did.  Love really does not delight in evil, but always does rejoice within the truth.  Love does not look to blame, shame, or condemn.  Rather, love builds up, love supports, and love tells the truth.  Love is celebrating the little victories, rather than loosing it over the things that goes wrong.  Love does protect.  Love is standing up for your residents, even though you know sometimes what you say goes in one ear and out the other.  Love is getting in between two angry, violent residents so they cannot hurt themselves, but can hurt you.  Love does trust.  Being loving builds trust, breaking down the barriers of dementia and Alzheimer’s.  When that resident loves you, they trust you and there’s nothing more important than that.  Love trusts that their cruelty comes from disease, not from the sake of being cruel.  Love does hope.  Love is hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.  Love is hoping that your hard work has given hope to a family that’s suffering through dementia as their family member is.  Love is hoping and yearning that one day, this world will be dementia free.  And love truly does always persevere.  Love is coming back, even when the bad days out weigh the good.  Love is working short staffed, getting flat-out ignored by those higher than you or even ridiculed by those higher than you, and encouraging the families that dementia is tormenting.  Love is coming back with a smile, not tucking your tail in between your legs and running.

My residents have also taught me a lot about nursing.  They have taught me to value the input of CNAs as important and even life-saving because they are.  CNAs are the eyes and ears of a long-term care facility.  They see the same residents day and day out so when they come to you with concerns or changes in condition, you should not shrug them off.  You should not belittle them.  You should not ignore them because they are “just CNAs”.  They are coming to you because they care and they are concerned.  There is nothing more important than that.  It’s better to investigate and find nothing than to do nothing and have someone suffer.  My residents have taught me that health care is a team sport, not an individual one.  Everyone must work together for the benefit of patient, listening to one another and bouncing ideas off each other.  We should not look down on those with a narrower scope of practice or those with less experience.  Instead, we should treat them as the important members of the health care team that they are and respect them.  There is no room in true patient-focused health care for self importance.  Patient-focused health care should be loving and as I’ve seen, love truly doesn’t boast and is self sacrificing.

I’ve seen and learned a lot this last year.  Those residents are family to me and I owe them so much.  They taught me so much about how to not sweat the simple things, how to be more flexible, and how, ultimately, God is in control.  God put me on that dementia unit for a reason I didn’t understand until recently.  I needed to understand what I was getting myself into before I dove head-first into a career in health care.  I needed to suffer so I would come out on the other side as someone who understands the struggles of those I work with and for.  He put me there so I could learn how to be an advocate and how to love, even when it feels like the person may not love you back.  I’ve learned how to deal with death better and learned that it really is okay to cry as long as you know that dementia and old age is no longer destroying the person I loved.  They are restored in Christ if they knew him, that that is the greatest comfort at all.  For those reading who do not share my views, it has taught me that everyone takes comfort when a loved one passes because we know they are free from dementia which I have learned this year to be one of the worst diseases on this earth.  

I have learned so much and this post is already so long.  I cannot possibly talk about everything I have taken away from this experience in long term care so I’ll end with this; health care should always be about love.  If love is absent, true healing, encouragement, and peace cannot be achieved.  When I first started doing CNA work, I was told by some that I should avoid getting too attached to my residents.  I was told it would be too much and interfere with how I did my job; that when one died, I’d be too distraught to do my job if I got too attached.  That is the biggest lie you could tell someone getting into this field.  It’s good to get attached, so long as it’s professional and comes from a place of love and compassion.  Caring goes such a long way and growing attached is only natural if you are doing it right.  Health care becomes robotic if there is no love, and love can only take root if you are attached to the people you are trying to help.  Attachment comes in many forms, not always in forehead kisses or deep conversations.  Attachment can be simply holding someone’s hand in the ER or the back of an ambulance during an emergency when they’re alone and/or scared.  Attachment can be listening, just listening to the patient even when they don’t make sense.  Attachment can be an extension of love and compassion, something that should not be absent in healthy care.  Thank you to all of the residents I have cared for over the last year for loving me and teaching me so much about life and love.  Thank you to all the wonderful nurses who have helped show me that despite the terrible hours, hard work, and emotional stress that this job really is worth it in the end.  Thank you to the resident family members and the residents who have become like family to me.  You all mean so much to me and I cannot thank you enough. Thank you.   

[zootopi-imagines]

Imagine...

...if Bellwether visited Bunnyburrow when she was still a lamb and that Lionheart’s mistreatment of her was not her motivation for her uprising against predators, but was actually because of something much more... “romantic” in nature.

Requested by: Anon

Ship: Sharla x Bellwether

Words: 1, 509 (Way longer than intended.)

Drabble  ↓ ↓

Years after the events which shook Zootopia and the relationship between prey and predator, animals still spoke of the orchestrations of one sheep – Bellwether. They often theorized and thought about what made her “go off the rails” and do what she did, but never could figure it out. When ZPD spoke to her family, they all agreed that her sinister behavior began long before she was chosen as the mayor’s assistant and when she was still a ewe lamb, so their initial thought of it being because of the mayor’s behavior towards her was shattered. ZPD – mostly Judy – attempted time and time again to question Bellwether and find her reasons, maybe even reduce her sentence after she went through a honest retention for her actions and apologized, but she never budged and grew unbreakably silent as soon as the subject was brought up, lowering her head almost bashfully.

 And yet, because no one was killed or seriously injured in her escapade, and because a sheep’s lifespan drags no longer than 20 years, which was a record in sheep history, Bellwether was released from her cell after seven years of paying for her actions. The exceptions to her early release were simple: she was to live in Bunnyburrow for the next two years, stay away from all outside communications, and be fitted with an ankle monitor during her stay there. After all, it was Judy Hopps who finally made Bellwether understand that not all predators are savages, so even if she merely succeeded in making Bellwether tolerate them, ZPD knew the bunny cop had an impact on the sheep’s behavior.

 Bellwether understood that, but after a week of adjusting to the new environment, she still found herself scowling down at the beeping device on her ankle every few minutes, the sound nauseatingly annoying. Yet, she knew she couldn’t be bothered. Groaning, she tore her green eyes away and shifted them back onto the newspaper in front of her, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“Four carrots please.” A bunny, one of what seemed to be millions, requested.

“Four carrots.” Bellwether repeated out of routine, placed the requested carrots onto the clean paper, rolled it up, took payment, and handed the supplies over. After only a week, the sheep felt as if she could do her work in her sleep, and yet, she oddly enjoyed it.

“Oh, Dawn,” Mrs Hopps interrupted, however, “I can take over for a while; you can go take a look at the rest of the festival if you like.”

As much as Bellwether enjoyed her new job, and not just compared to her previous one, she quickly shot upright in her chair and nodded enthusiastically, her thick glasses hopping on her nose and her wool wildly bobbing back and forth. “Thank you, Mrs Hopps!” She called over her shoulder, already making her way down the dirt road. After a long day of work, she was even more excited to visit the old festival again. She was still a lamb when her mother took her to Bunnyburrow for a day to see their annual festivities, but of course, she knew her mother couldn’t recall – it felt like forever ago.

“Stop it Gideon!”

Bellwether instantly froze, her mouth growing dry and her skin growing pale underneath her wool – she recognized that voice.

“No point’n sayin’ that, Sharla; ya know that.”

Bellwether frantically searched the crowd of strangers and bunnies, but to her horror, no one budged to help, not even Judy, who was a mere ten feet away. Instantly, Bellwether’s face broke into a scowl. I won’t let this happen again, she screamed inwardly, and she couldn’t! With agile hooves, she pushed through the crowed and dashed out behind the caravans, grabbing a thick stick from the ground along the way and hoisting it above her head to attack. “Leave her alone, you sava-“ She hollered a warrior’s cry in her run, but as soon as she reached the argument, her words escaped her. In bewilderment and underneath the laugh of another sheep, Bellwether once again halted in disbelief, the wooden club slipping from her hooves and colliding with the grass behind her in a loud thud.

In front of her, shoving each other playfully in the midst of laughs and giggles, Gideon Grey and Sharla Woolworth were fighting over a bowl of flower and eggs, the first trying to add more milk while the other tried saving the dough from mutiny. “We have enough milk in it!” Sharla insisted, but Gideon recoiled, “Again, no point’n arguin’, Sharla – ya know I’m right.”

No surprise to a bewildered Bellwether, they were already both coated in flour.

 “Bellwether!?” Sharla finally exclaimed in delighted shock when she noticed the company, a goofy grin pulling at her natural overbite – she didn’t even care to notice the fact that Gideon took her distraction as an opportunity to add more milk, but of course…

“Oh sweet cheese an’ crackers,” Gideon gaped down at the useless mixture, “Ya where right! I’ll be right back!”

Riddled with nerves, Bellwether actually wanted to command Gideon to stay and not leave the two of them alone, but she couldn’t move. Of all things that could happen to her on the day of the festival, she ran into the one sheep who allowed her to enjoy it the first time she was there – the sheep that was the cause for Bellwether’s entire uprising against the predator community in the first place. But now, she thought, dread flooding in, she’s friends with the same fox that attacked her? She wondered how it was possible after how Gideon treated her as a lamb, but she couldn’t give herself an answer – she was too occupied with the fact that her entire scheme was pointless.

“Bellwether?”

She wondered if Sharla hated her, too.

“…Bellwether?”

It would make sense if she truly befriended a fox of all things.

“Dawn!”

 Bellwether was suddenly ripped back into reality with a small yelp and forced to notice the black sheep standing only a few feet away. “Ah, sorry.” She apologized sincerely – she must have been staring, “Sharla, was it?”

“Ah-hah.” She nodded enthusiastically, “And you’re Dawn Bellwether – I suppose you don’t remember me from when we were lambs, huh?”

The white sheep’s ears drooped even lower in shock, her eyes widening behind her large spectacles. “I-I do, actually…” She mumbled in disbelief, “I didn’t expect you to, though.”

“Of course I do!” Sharla chirped before rounding the table to close the gap between them, “You saved me from Gideon, didn’t you? Just like Judy!”

Bellwether could only nod, her jaw visibly slacked. Honestly, she didn’t remember it like that at all – she tried to save the sheep’s beautiful wool from the fox’s sharp claws, but only to be picked on as well – did she remember it wrong? What she recalled was Sharla protecting her in the end.

“And you still tried saving prey afterwards, didn’t you?” She continued when Bellwether stayed quiet, shocking the white sheep even further, “Of course, you got arrested, but you were up to the same old tricks, right?”

Bellwether felt her face grow hot underneath her wool. She couldn’t believe how much Sharla has changed – all in a good ways, too. She was no longer the shy little sheep she used to be; she speaks her mind with confidence – maybe a bit too easily, in fact.

“I tried.” Bellwether spoke, unsure if she should bring up her criminal past, but also not wanting Sharla to add anything more embarrassing, “But I took the wrong approach. I judged all the prey by the few and ended up becoming even worse than that few,” her eyes darkened, “but as soon as I am free to move around as I please, I will try to help again – not just prey, but both predator and prey – and attempt to destroy stereotypes! I’ll stop-“

The moment Bellwehter realized what she was saying, she bit her tongue and fell silent, regret instantly overwhelming her, but unlike what she had expected, Sharla only smiled.

 “I think that’s a great plan!” She agreed, forcing Bellwether to grin back at her with relief, but unfortunately, she continued yet again, “but…”

Bellwether’s joy quickly wavered at her crush’s ‘but’ and pause.

“…will you let me help you?” Sharla asked sheepishly – pun intended – and hesitantly held out her hoof, “After how you helped me, I mean.”

Bellwether caught a tint of teasing at the last statement, but she didn’t care. Without wasting a second, she placed her own hoof in her new friend’s own, her green eyes beaming, “I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

She secretly wondered if she should tell Sharla that she was her motivation from the very start, but she quickly decided against it – all in good time. Maybe then… they could be more than friends?

Who knew she’d be right about both.

 (Requests: OPEN. Picture is mine – it was edited by me.)

~ This is my last Canon Character x Canon Character. I work with Canon Character x Reader from here on out.

[spynotebook]

Image: Evans Vestal Ward/NBC

After writing and filming one version of its pilot (and showing it at Comic-Con), the people behind DC Comics’ Powerless decided to completely revamp the show. That means that the new first episode, which aired last night, had a ton of major changes from the original—and here’s what they were.

1) The Setting Has Changed From a Superhero Insurance Company to Wayne Security

Let’s start with a change that was announced in the new synopsis for the show. Instead of an insurance company that pays out to people after supervillain attacks, the show now takes place at Wayne Security, a subsidiary of Wayne Enterprises. This ties the show more obviously into the larger DC universe and is a relatively stable source of jokes. (Also, there’s a shout-out to the old premise in the new pilot when, in a flashback, the main character is shown working in insurance.)

2) The Main Character Is Now a Newcomer

In the old pilot, Emily Locke (Vanessa Hudgens) was a long-time employee of the company, and she’d spent enough time living in Charm City to be deeply tired of superheroes and the damage they cause. The old pilot opened with Emily going off on Crimson Fox (Atlin Mitchell) for the way that innocent people keep getting dragged into the middle of the fights between superheroes and villains. In the new version, she’s not only excited about moving to Charm City, but being caught in-between her first superhero/villain fight. She even takes a selfie in the derailed train that she was trying to take to work.

3) ...and No One Likes Her

In the old pilot, Emily was one of the gang. Teddy (Danny Pudi) was her best friend. Now, she’s the new supervisor of a bunch of R&D nerds who don’t like her or her habit of spewing business clichés. Plus, they’re all resigned to doing their jobs, which mainly amount to ripping off Lex Corp designs rather than inventing anything new.

Emily is also the fifth manager the R&D team at Wayne Security has had over the last year, and they have learned not care about their ever-rotating bosses. Plus, she’s a business school graduate who doesn’t actually know anything about inventing new devices. All she does is tell them to invent new things, which they point out they have done. I think possibly the best joke, even if I saw it coming, was when Emily implored them all to “think outside the box” and then discover that one of their projects was a literal box.

One character invents an “Emily Alarm” to warn when “people you don’t like” are nearby. Just in case you wondering just how much her employees hate her.

The old Jackie. Image: Chris Large/NBC

4) Pretty Much Everyone Is Extremely Mean

With the exception of the character Ron—because I think making comedian Ron Funches play someone who isn’t delightful would break the universe—everyone at Wayne Security is relentlessly negative. In the old pilot, the characters were all some flavor of quirky and pretty upbeat. The old Teddy was a practical joker who tried to make the office more fun; the new Teddy is there to puncture her illusions. The old Jackie (Christina Kirk) was a superhero groupie with a cubicle plastered with photos and posters of them, and a failure as Van Wayne’s (Alan Tudyk) assistant; the new Jackie is a world-weary assistant who drops one-liners at her idiot boss. (The best example is her deadpan delivery of “You’re going to be a great father” after he threatens to fill her pockets with rocks and throw her in the river if she lies about Bruce Wayne being on the phone for him again.) If nothing else, Kirk is funny in both versions, showing her range.

5) The Man in Charge Changed From One Kind of Entitled Ass Into Another

In the original pilot, Tudyk played Del Heller, the son of the insurance company’s owner, installed when her old boss died. He was obsessed with making money by denying claims, and every act of defiance led to him punishing the office by doing things like taking away their bagels or their desks. He was both a dilettante and a tyrant. He was an angry man-child in the old of the show.

Now, Tudyk is Van Wayne—a cousin of Bruce—so desperate to get promoted to a place in the main Wayne Enterprises office in Gotham City that he’s been pressuring everyone under him to come up with something good enough to get him there. That means going through R&D department heads like Emily at a really fast clip. Also, he loves to tout his connection to Bruce Wayne constantly, to the point of his assistant having a running “Bruce Wayne is calling for you” joke. Van Wayne is just as entitled and selfish as Del Heller, but in a more conniving, less pettily destructive way.

6) The Conflict Is Completely Different

The original pilot was framed around Emily trying to fight the Heller’s dictates that they deny more of their customers’ claims. The conflict was contained inside the company, basically. The new conflict is that Wayne Enterprises shuts down their branch of Wayne Security, so Emily needs the team to make something amazing that proves they’re worth keeping in business. And then she needs to get Van—who is ecstatic that the closing of the company means he’s getting absorbed into the Gotham City office—to actually present it. It’s a two-sided fight.

But it’s one largely resolved by the end of the episode: Emily spurs the invention of something great, it keeps the office open, and Van is sad. The need to keep inventing things to stay employed may come up again, but it doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a driving thread. In the old pilot, it seemed like the fight against the boss was going to be the theme of most episodes.

7) The Best Joke From the Original Pilot Is Missing

In the original pilot, there was a raging debate about whether or not their co-worker Hank Detweiler was really Green Lantern. The old pilot spent a lot of screen time having the characters try to prove it, including having a character smash a yellow chair over Hank. That running joke—which included Hank being suspiciously missing during villain attacks—is completely missing, as is the character of Hank (at least for now). It’s a casualty of Danny Pudi’s character going from an upbeat superhero fan to a cynical and sarcastic scientist. I’m hopeful it turns up again in another form in a later episode, because it really did work.

The new Wendy. Image: Evans Vestal Ward/NBC

8) The Superfriends Characters Are Mostly Gone

In the old pilot, Emily’s co-workers Wendy and Marvin—named for the classic but goofy Superfriends sidekicks—were squabbling siblings who happened to work together. Now, Marvin is missing completely and a new actress is playing Wendy. It’s not even clear if her name is meant to be a reference anymore.

9) In Fact, Almost Every DC Reference That Wasn’t to Batman Was Cut

I get that, as a company owned by Bruce Wayne, it makes the most sense to make Batman jokes. There are even a few Superman jokes. But the old pilot was a more pan-DC kind of show, whereas this one isn’t. Here’s a list of DC shout-outs from the old pilot our own Evan Narcisse wrote last year:

Del is shown chuckling over the Luthor biography from a few years back, while world clocks showing the time in Atlantis and Themyscira are part of the set dressing. Marvin slams Hank with a yellow, plastic-backed, wooden chair to try and find out once and for all whether he’s Green Lantern in a moment that got big laughs. When Emily is gloomy, Danny Pudi’s Eddie tries to cheer her up by saying “After the blackest day is the brightest day.” There’s a lot of self-awareness with just a touch of raunch, seen when Kirsten Wiig Christina Kirk’s Jackie groans lustily, “I wanna nail Aquaman so hard… He can breathe underwater so when he goes downtown…”

All of those are gone now. There is a meta-joke where the company is shut down because the devices it makes to help people in the event of a villain attack are useless now. “Bruce says we’re obsolete,” says Van in the new pilot. “Gone are the days of a man in a bandit mask stealing a ruby from a museum. Now it’s all just supervillains trying to destroy the Earth, superheroes fighting each other for vaguely defined reasons—our products are powerless to stop them.”

Another joke has Ron explaining that everyone knows that the “number one cause of office accidents is Superman crashing through windows mid-fight.” Both are solid jokes, but both are jokes based on general public awareness of DC’s superheroes rather than a deeper comics knowledge.

Two different Joker Venom antidotes. Image: Evans Vestal Ward/NBC

10) There’s So Much More Batman

It is almost exhausting how many Batman references are in this show. Emily is obsessed with Bruce Wayne’s book on business, quoting it constantly and carrying it everywhere. Van Wayne talks about his cousin all the time and mentions that he’s “very hard to get ahold of.” The end of the show has Batman using something very similar to the “Emily Alarm” the team invented to catch the Joker. Any one of these jokes might have worked.

All put together, Powerless ends up with the same problem that the first season of Supergirl had: they keep talking about this guy that never shows up. A charitable reading is that this overload is supposed to make clear how funny it is for these people to be working for Batman and not know it. But it’s overkill.

All in all, the new Powerless isn’t better or worse than its original pilot. It’s just very different.