Tumgik
#it Does have some occult though. because i was playing the story for my brother and i Do enjoy scaring him hhbvhfhsfvh
keeps-ache · 4 months
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ggghhg i hate vehiclessssssss ghghghhghhhhh [dies dies dies forever]
#just me hi#i'm going to get right back to it but i need to complain or i'll turn into a stale loaf of Bread lmao :3👍#so here it is. why's it gotta be so hard hhghfh#okay buildings suck i hate buildings. but also they don't make me want to immediately explode at the merest hint of actually drawing them#vehicles?? Vehicles ???? i am going to just. what if i just put everyone in magical cardboard boxes and did that huh. what is the point !!#i have to draw motorcyclessss and carssssss and i'm okay with bikes to a degree actually <3 and horsessssssss and truckssssssssssss#god forbid you pick an older model with like 20 articles on it cuz most of them are going to only have a side profile and 3/4s view of that#dang thing. which yea sounds manageable 'why is this a problem keeps' i cannot properly see the FRONT#i have to guess?? i have to Guess ???? my dearest wish i think i'm just going to live in the sewers. with the sewer creatures#GGHHHHHHHHHHHH#i am going to practice drawing this stupid thing that i'm going to use for like 7 panels MAX and then i'm going to commit a FOUL crime. lik#rearranging someone's usual playlist without them knowing so they're confused every time they listen to it afterwards#//okay enough of that. we're good hbfhsfh :3#i have done other things today ! i've actually made a rough timeline for pi.e so thaaaat's cool :D#that and found a cool artist to follow on pillowfort. i. forgor their user but they have cool art .w.#/also i'm past the halfway mark on this first chapter which is !!!#i don't want to jinx myself cuz i know i'm really good at that hfhsv - but i think i'll start storyboarding the next part if i can get a#couple more pages done :D#//also the cowboy au grows stronger everyday hhhgfshvbh#i kind of knew some sort of au was inevitable but i did not think it would be an old west one loll :3#still trying to figure out the logistics#i wanna find some good historical fiction from those eras (1860s-70s) but i do not have the brain space for it rn fbhs - so this will do :>#it won't have any of the magic or gods i think bc of that but i'm having fun regardless :D#it Does have some occult though. because i was playing the story for my brother and i Do enjoy scaring him hhbvhfhsfvh#there are devils on the ranch!! or are they devils?? he hasn't gotten that far yet lol :>#//i also may have some sort of weird lean towards the spooky because Somehow each of my stories end up containing some sort of thriller#element?? lmao rip my siblings#but it never happens on purpose. again; rip my siblings hfhhvsh#//oo running out of tag space lol <//3#i shall return. probably with more wip stuff cuz i started like 4 canvases in 2 days hhghghdvs - toodles !!
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kiruamon · 1 year
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Paper Heart (Part 2: The Present)
Sorry, sorry for the wait. The chapter keept going and going and ended up to be so much longer than I planned! (And I had to translate it which took also a good while.) But now I wish you much fun with the second part of my silly little story!
_
Has it really been almost a year since you started living by yourself? Living all alone in this house you call home. Sometimes it still feels like your parents could suddenly show up at the driveway of the house. As if nothing had ever happened. Just like they always did. Sometimes they disappeared off the face of the earth for a few weeks because of a job, sometimes even for months. The longest period - when you were sixteen - had been six months that felt like forever. But at least back then they had called or sent you a letter every now and then. However, when your parents left for the last time, they only told you that they had to go away for a while because of work. That you should take good care of the house. Where if anything should happen, you would find their papers in case of an emergency. Just in case you needed those. To tell the truth, to this day you have no idea what to do with their research notes. The mountains of folders contain dozens of indexes and random old newspaper and internet articles and handwritten notes on all the junk in the basement that must have collected layer after layer of dust there over the years. Broken, maybe antique furniture and pseudo-occult stuff that your parents collected there while keeping you away from it. You lost interest in trying to look around down there many years ago.
All you know for sure is that one of the reasons your parents were almost never home is all that stuff down there. As a child, you often felt alone because of it and… …you still do whenever you're in this house. It feels too big and empty for one person to live here. But you had this feeling even before they disappeared. It has only grown a bit over the last year. That's probably why you spend so much time in the garden or go on strolls for hours in the nearby fields and woods. Luckily, you can at least count on your best friend not to forget you. Mitchell and you hang out a lot. Either at his place or here. Sometimes he brings his little brother Gavyn with him. It's nice having them around. You're even grateful when Mitch - as he often does - just waltzes in on you without a warning. You know he's worried about you. That he knows that you quickly feel uneasy all alone, even though you always insist that you are fine with it. That you are used to it and can handle it.
… you wish you knew if your parents were okay. If they had an accident. Or… just abandoned you for good, although you don't know why they would do that. Was it because of you? Or was it because of them? Or neither… Or maybe they got into some dangerous business. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time with their strange research. Maybe that's why they can't come back. Of course, you did call the police at some point. But since your parents are adults and you are also of age, the whole incident fizzled out pretty quickly. You remember how tense you had been watching the news for a while. Always with a lingering fear of hearing or reading their names when an accident or another disaster was mentioned. The police simply assumed that they left for good. By now, you almost believe that, too. Either way, there is no point in thinking about it any longer. You've already gone over this issue too many times in your head to waste any more hours on it when there's nothing you can do about it anyway.
Neither does it do you any good to stick to their old rules any longer when they are no longer there. You've always ignored the basement ever since you got in trouble for playing down there when you were in elementary school. You don't remember the details of the incident very well. Only that you must have been alone at home that night and probably felt lonelier than usual. And although you always followed the rules of your parents, you decided to go down to the basement to look around. Of all the things that had been stored down there, it had been some huge, old doll that had caught your eye. It had a weird chamber in the chest and for some reason that you can't remember because it was so long ago, you had made a heart for it and put it in there and pretended it was alive. You probably just wished for someone to be there for you that night. What you clearly remember is the scolding you got from your parents the morning after. For being down there and playing with things that were probably too valuable for the hands of a child. It's hard to blame them for that - especially since they'd never scolded you otherwise - even if their reaction seemed a bit over the top to you today. You also remember… how you cried your eyes out when you saw the torn pieces of the paper heart on the kitchen table.
After that, you were never down there again. Your parents had hidden the key to the basement in a new place. Some years later you stumbled upon the hiding place by pure coincidence, but you never took the key and acted as if you didn't know where it was until today. It simply didn't bother you anymore what old stuff your parents stored down there. Normally you wouldn't have seen any reason to go down to the basement, but this morning when you were half asleep and staggering down the stairs to the first floor, you thought you heard a noise coming from there. Maybe mice. Hopefully not rats. In any case, you decided to go down there after work to check things out. Maybe you have to set up some live traps in case of trouble and to get rid of the uninvited visitors before the situation gets out of control.
Your fingers feel the underside of the desk top in your parents' study and bump into the taped key there. Good. So the hiding spot hasn't changed again. Carefully, you peel off the tape and detach it from the old key and make your way to the basement stairs. Arriving in front of the door, you try to insert the key into the keyhole. The old key doesn't go in easily, but with a little willpower and a few rattles, you manage to unlock the door. Maybe the door has warped a bit over the years… something you could take a closer look at another time to see if you can fix it. For now, you just open the door and shiver a little as a cold breeze brushes your bare arms. Weird. It must be because of how long the basement had been sealed off. There are no windows down here that could be left open. A dusty smell hits you as you take a step into the dark room and your hand searches the wall next to you for the light switch that should be somewhere around here. You feel plastic under your fingers. Luckily, the old ceiling lamp still comes to life as you flip the light switch. "Let's see… ", as expected, there is a lot of old, dusty junk lying around on the shelves and in the glass cabinets. Everything is marked with some kind of numbered label, which at least hints at a certain type of system. You put yourself in motion and keep looking for traces of furry roommates somewhere in the nooks and crannies, wandering deeper and deeper into the miniature labyrinth of old furniture and other curiosities. From time to time you have to squeeze yourself through particularly narrow passages. But so far… no sign of any mice, rats or other animals. That's actually pretty good. Maybe the noise did come from outside. You have almost reached the end of the room when you notice something out of the corner of your eye.
Between a shelf and a nearby glass cabinet, a figure crouches on the floor, half slumped over. Confused, you turn your head to get a better look at it. "Oh. So this is where you've been." Well… where else if not here, right? A small smile flashes across your face as you gaze at the lifeless doll. Seeing it definitely brings back a certain nostalgia. Without hesitation, you approach it and squat down in front of it to get a better look. By now, it looks even gloomier than you remember it. Cobwebs hang between its head and shoulder and you feel sorry for the puppet, how it sits so forgotten and lonely here in the dark. You don't think twice as you reach out your hand and gently wipe away the cobwebs hanging from it. "Well old friend?" you murmur softly to it. It feels a bit like you're seeing an old friend again after a long time. "It's been some time. Do you still recognize me?" Of course, it doesn't give you an answer. How could it? Back then, you just imagined it was talking to you. But it's okay. Your hand wanders further, strokes the cracked chest and you can feel the grooves that hint at the hidden chamber behind it. That's right. There had been a flap. Automatically, you search for a hold with your fingernails and gently pull on the flap until it opens, exposing the chamber in the doll's chest. You blink, staring curiously into the secret chamber. The cavity is as black as if its inside were covered with soot. Or as if it was swallowing up all the light inside. But perhaps it is simply due to the sparse light conditions down here, you think. For one night, a heart had rested in this chamber. A messily cut paper heart that you had decorated with all kinds of stickers, drawings and trinkets to give it to your friend. But now there is only this hole in which yawning emptiness exists. The sight is downright depressing. "Not much going on in there, huh?" you ask quietly, knowing you're just talking to yourself. Gingerly, you close the flap for now. "Well, maybe we can clean you up a bit. Wipe off all that grime." The cracks look rather bad though. There are pieces missing everywhere and you are not sure if it is possible to repair them. Maybe an expert could fix it, but you don't have your hopes up too high.
"Come on. Let's get you upstairs first and give you a closer look," you grab one of its long arms and carefully put it over your shoulder, then you do the same with the other one and hoist it onto your back so you can give it a piggyback ride. "Whew. Okay… not exactly a lightweight, are we?," you grunt softly. Your old friend is much heavier and bigger than it looked while sitting. You have to adjust the weight on your back a bit before you find a good footing where it isn't about to fall off your back. Its arms and hands dangle lifelessly back and forth in front of your chest. "Hold on tight I don't want you to fall off," you mutter half-jokingly and make your way back to the door with slow and careful steps. It's not so easy with your new friend on your back, but somehow you manage to shuffle past the junk without any mishaps. You use your elbow to flip the light switch and carefully push the door shut with your foot as you step out of the basement. The stairs are a bit of a challenge and you move up more slowly to avoid losing your footing on the steps and tumbling all the way back down with your friend. Otherwise that would probably end in more than a few scratches.
When you finally reach the kitchen and set the old doll down on one of the chairs, you need a brief pause to catch your breath. Normally, you're used to lugging heavy stuff around because of your work in the garden and your job. But at least you can take a better look at the doll up here in the daylight. However… sadly you realize that it is in an even worse condition than you already saw in the basement. The fabric of the pants, the night cap and the collar around the neck are completely moth-eaten. There are chipped off larger and smaller pieces all over the arms, hands, and body. The odd spikes on its head are sharp and clearly there are larger pieces missing. A weird piece of paper with some illegible scrawl is stuck to the back of its head, which you figure out is pretty easy to peel off. Since it doesn't seem to belong directly to the doll, the paper just ends up in the trash can for paper waste. After that, the inspection continues and you pucker your mouth a bit as you spot the next big damage. "Oh boy… that looks bad." A large hole gapes at the back of the doll's body. Thankfully, it doesn't seem to extend all the way up into the chest cavity.
And yet you have the feeling that your friend is probably beyond saving. Perhaps you would do him a greater favor if you showed him some mercy and sent him to the scrapyard… You hesitate, walk to the kitchen sink and grab one of the cleaning rags to soak it with water and wring it out. Before you know it you're already wiping the dust and dirt off his face. "Let's clean you up before we do anything else," even if you're going to take him to the scrapyard tomorrow, you want to at least do this much for him. You give him a small encouraging smile and continue to wipe him clean, rinsing the rag every now and then to remove the stubborn layers of dirt, dust and unidentifiable stains that cling to his body.
It's already evening when you're finally done. He still gives off a rather sorry sight, but it's still a little better than it was before. There's not much more you can do for him… Except… You raise your head a little. There is one thing, perhaps, that you can do. Just for old times' sake. And maybe also because you feel you owe it to your eight-year-old self. Faster than you can reconsider, you've already brought a pair of scissors and some old craft supplies from your room into the kitchen and spread them out on the table, eager to get to work. For his final journey you want to give him something on his way. You are still no expert at crafting. But at least this time the heart-shaped cardboard template looks a bit better than the old version. And maybe you're a tad proud of that. You try to remember what the original heart looked like, but you can't quite remember the exact details. What color did you choose for the heart? Red? No, it was definitely not red. Your gaze wanders over the colorful sheets of paper in front of you. Blue? Yellow? Both? You think you somehow used both colors. "Hmmm… how about this… ", you use your template to cut out both a yellow and blue heart and simply glue the two hearts together. Now you have both - a yellow and blue side for the heart!
What else? You glued all kinds of stuff on it back then. But you have no idea where your old sticker books have gone. Probably such old stickers wouldn't stick very well anyway. You could try to draw something on the front and back. But well, that's not your big strength either. Perhaps it could be a little simpler, after all, it's the thought that counts in the end. So you decide to write down in words whatever comes to your mind and what you probably wanted to express with your decorations as a child. The blue side facing you comes first. And immediately the star and moon stickers pop into your mind. So you write down the words moon and stars. What next? What else can you think of? You've got plenty of room. "Maybe… night, sleep, rest… um… whisper?", slowly the blue space starts to fill up a bit. It's like you're playing an association game. All by itself, your head adds more words to the previous ones, which your hand immediately writes down. Shadows, because the night is full of them and not everything is as bad as it seems at first sight. At night the world seems mysterious, almost strange. As if it was full of magic. You also think of music. Some soft melody that makes you fall asleep. Perhaps you only think of it because you turned on the radio earlier to fill the silence in the house. But you wonder a little what it would say about you, if someone would analyze this. Anyway. You turn the heart over to the yellow side.
"If one side is the moon, then this one is the sun," plus the friendly yellow just fits too well. Good. So what do you associate with the sun? "The day. Warmth," plenty motivated you write down your thoughts. The day brings fun with it. You can meet your friends to laugh and play games with. You have more pep in your step and are more motivated. Wow, some of that sounded pretty much like stuff a kid would write down and you laugh quietly at yourself. "Well, it fits good enough," your younger self would definitely agree with what you wrote down here. You look over at the doll with a grin. What else could you write down? "What else could I give you to take along?" you ask yourself quietly, looking down at the paper heart again. There were so many things. So many wonderful things. "May there always be a light inside your heart - no matter how small - that will guide you even through the darkest of times," for the blue side. "May you find the courage inside you to face even your worst fears and never forget how much beauty there is in this world," for the yellow side. … okay, okay, now that sounded a bit like something you directed at yourself. Super cheesy as well, you think to yourself, a tad embarrassed but smiling nonetheless. But hey, no one but you would ever get to read this anyway.
Good, now there's hardly any space left on the two pages. Your eyes roam over all the craft supplies. You notice the little tins filled with colored glitter. Hmmm… Would that be too over the top, perhaps? "… Oh, why not?" Surely a little extra sparkle can't hurt! So you carefully drag one of the glue sticks between the written words over the yellow side of the heart a few times, and then sprinkle some gold colored glitter on top of it. After that, you have to be patient until it dries before you turn the side over and coat it with glue as well and then decorate it with silver glitter. "Nice work," you say with a proud grin and examine both sides of your work once again with satisfaction.
"It might not be exactly the same, but I hope you don't hold it against me," you joke light-heartedly, looking into the hollow eyes of your silent friend. Now that the heart is finished, you get up from your seat and stand in front of the doll that had been waiting patiently on the chair next to you for the last half an hour. Gently you open the flap to the chamber in its chest again. Even up here with better lighting, its insides remain shrouded in total darkness. Pretty weird. But you don't think too much about it. You shrug your shoulders and carefully grasp your self-made heart. "Even if it doesn't make you whole anymore… Maybe it will at least fill a little of the emptiness inside you and can accompany you on your final journey." Gently, you place the heart in his chest, with a feeling as if you were dipping your hand in ice water until you pull it back out of the chamber, shuddering. You frown in bewilderment at this sensation and look at your hand. Nothing out of the ordinary to be seen. Except... for all the glitter and glue clinging to it! You chuckle softly at the sight. You'd better wash that off or you'll have that stuff all over your face and on your clothes later. But before you do, you carefully close the flap and throw a warm smile at your silent friend. "It's almost like old times now," you say with tenderness in your voice. Well, except for the fact that you're not a little kid anymore. Other than that, it's amazing how little has changed. You're still talking to a doll. Maybe you should try socializing more if you're so eager for someone to talk to. Your eyes wander to the clock above the kitchen door. "Eight-thirty already?" you hadn't realized it was so late. A glance out the window also tells you that the sun has nearly disappeared. A last strip of red light blinks over the hedge that surrounds the back garden. Time to make yourself something for dinner, you guess.
You turn away from the doll and head for the sink to wash your sticky hands clean before preparing dinner. You've barely taken three steps when a noise causes you to flinch suddenly. It sounds as if something heavy had fallen to the floor somewhere behind you. The doll, it goes through your mind and you already imagine in your thoughts how it must have slipped off the chair. … did it stay in one piece? Worried, you want to check if everything is all right with it and hope that it survived the fall without further damage. But you don't even have a chance to turn around and look at the doll to confirm your suspicions. Right and left to your side, hands shoot out of nowhere, grabbing you before you even realize what's happening and dragging you backwards with such force that you can't breathe. You are far too perplexed to scream. It takes a moment before a feeling of panic strikes you. But now that it's there, it swells with every second, like a spreading fire in a wooden house. Your heart pounds as if you've done a sprint and speeds up even more as you feel your body pressed tightly against something stiff. Your breathing becomes more frantic. What is this? What is happening here? The hairs on your arms stand up as a cold shiver runs over them.
Someone has grabbed you, you finally realize. Someone has entered your home and is holding you captive. Unnaturally large fingers dig into the fabric of your T-shirt, fueling the sinking feeling in your stomach that you are in some serious trouble right now. That's definitely not Mitch, who snuck in through the open patio door and is just trying to surprise you with an unannounced visit. You don't dare turn your head to look at your captor. The stranger still says nothing. Gives no instructions or anything else that tells you what his intentions might be. He just holds you tight. Which only makes the whole thing so much worse, because it fuels your brain with the worst possible outcomes and makes you break out in cold sweat. Will you end up with a knife in your back or chest any minute now? Are they going to drag you off? Do they want to rob you? Or does this have something to do with your parents and whoever this is wants to get their revenge on you now, too, for some crazy reason?
"Look… I-I have… n-no idea w-what you want… b-but if it's just money or something… t-then just… t-take whatever you want… " Your voice is shaking like crazy, just like the rest of your body. If they weren't holding you, your legs probably would have already given way. You feel tears welling up in your eyes from the desperation of this situation and which are clouding your vision. You are terrified. And still they remain silent without telling you what they want from you. Seconds are passing insufferably slow, just feeding your panic and fear even more. One of the two hands removes itself from you. This is probably the moment when the knife comes! Or a pistol… In the movies and newspapers, it's always like that. Your stomach tightens as if it could already feel the blood flowing from the upcoming wound. Breathing becomes almost impossible by now, and you squeeze your eyes so tightly shut that it already hurts. You don't want to see it coming when it happens and you hope it will be quick. So fast that you might not even notice.
Something brushes your cheek. Cold. It doesn't feel like a knife or a gun, though. Your irritation-flooded body needs a moment to identify it as a finger. The stranger strokes your tear-soaked cheek. He does so with such extreme care that you blink in disbelief and open your eyes. You're still alive, you realize, and gasp for some air. Only now do you notice that the hand around your belly did also become much looser. Maybe you could escape, if only you were able to think clearly. His fingers feel cool while they move from your cheek to your chin, slowly lifting it until something other than the kitchen ceiling enters your field of vision. You're not sure what you're seeing at first. Your head only processes bits and pieces that catch your eye. You see dark blue fabric, yellow stars on the nightcap that dangles from the intruder's head. A shiny golden bell swings back and forth above your head, making a soft tinkling noise. The stranger's eye sockets glow in a dim, soft red light. One white eye and one red eye stare down at you without blinking once. The round face is split into a light and dark side. Almost like a crescent moon in the night sky. Moon and stars, you think. It is impossible to take your eyes off this sight and you may have held your breath for a moment as you slowly put the pieces together in front of you. This is not a mask. This is not a man. Or even a human. Not an intruder. Not a stranger. You brought him up here yourself. He looks different. But you still think you recognize him. You see his mouth, stretched into a wide grin, which certainly wasn't there before and how it slightly shifts. His voice is soft and like a whisper as he mouths a single word to you: "Friend."
"…" The lump in your throat loosens while your body continues to feel tense. "… hi… ", you stammer quietly. It's all your overwhelmed head can manage as a response at this moment, while you still stare up into the face of the doll that has come to life. Somewhere on the way between the basement and the kitchen, you must have hit your head pretty hard. Maybe you did fall down the stairs trying to carry him up here. Lying unconscious in front of the basement door and imagining something. This simply can't be real… It's impossible. And yet you can still feel his fingers on your skin and how the weight of his arm now rests gently on your shoulder instead of pressing against your stomach. … Maybe it's a very realistic dream….
"… would… ", your voice falters for a moment and you need a second attempt to find it. "Would… you maybe let me go?", you ask as careful as possible and indeed, surprisingly, he follows your request. "Th-thank you," you mumble under your breath, quietly and somewhat uncertainly, almost expecting that he might grab you again right away. But nothing like that happens. You slowly take a few shaky steps forward before you turn around on unsteady legs to get a better look at what you're dealing with here. He's… freakin' huge, and that's despite the fact that he's standing in front of you in a somewhat crouched position. His head turns slightly to the side, his eyes watching your every move curiously, like a cat seeing a mouse for the first time in its life. You swallow a little.
Apparently you're not the only one of you who wants to know what he's dealing with here. You run a hand over your head and through your hair. Your hands still feel somewhat sweaty. Haha… hah… this just has to be a dream… just… a very realistic dream… A doll can't just come to life! There's no such thing! It cannot exist. You look past him to the chair where you had put the doll earlier, but of course it's empty. After all, he is standing right in front of you. You swallow again and look up at him. He hasn't moved an inch. Almost as if he's waiting for you to do something. You honestly have no idea what he expects from you. Or if he really expects anything from you. Take a deep breath. In and out. In and out. Calm down. There seems to be no danger to your life for now. "So… you… are?" you ask in a first timid attempt to learn more about the being before you. "A friend," comes his immediate answer. He sounds fully convinced of it. Like it's a simple fact that he establishes in his unusual whispering voice. "O-okay… okay," that's the second time he's said that now. You're still pretty nervous, but it's nowhere near as bad as it was a few minutes ago, and seeing him right in front of you like this makes it all a little less scary. You can handle it. Just stay calm. You put your sweaty and glittery palms together, lift them in front of your face, take another deep breath, and lower them again. It's not the worst sign that he's calling you his friend. Or so you hope… But it's also not what you wanted to know. "I meant more… what you are?" The question seems to confuse him, he stares at you, tilting his head from side to side as if thinking. Then, suddenly, he turns it further and further - like one of those fortune wheels at fairgrounds - until his head completes a full turn and pauses again in its original position. "Can't remember," is his only reply, while there's a far-too-large, unreadable grin on his face. Oooooookay, that was a teeny tiny bit creepy now… Well, more creepy than the whole situation already is. But aside from… whatever that just was, he still shows no signs on wanting to hurt you. So you scrape up your courage and try again with a different approach. "Do you have a name?" Anxiously, you wait. His eyes linger on you. "No." "Oh, no name huh," that surprises you a little. Somehow you had assumed he would have one. "Do you just not remember it or have you never had one?" is why you want to know, feeling your tension lessen a little with each word you two exchange. "Yes." You frown. Um… that wasn't a very helpful answer… You start to wonder if he can even understand you properly. Silently, you sigh. Somehow this isn't going anywhere. But you haven't given up yet! "Are you… really the doll from the basement?" you wonder quietly, directing the question more to yourself than to him, because it all seems so unreal to you. But it is strange… Where were the spikes on his head? You don't see any broken pieces lying around on the floor, which would had suggested that they had fallen off… And… besides, now that you think about it, he doesn't look so worn out anymore. The damaged areas on his body and clothes seem to have vanished completely… Strangely enough, at the mention of the basement, he ducks his head a bit and frowns a little. Almost as if the thought of this place makes him uncomfortable. Except for the discomfort on his side, he seems to be quite willing to answer you, though, because you get another short yes from him as confirmation. Good. At least this suspicion has been confirmed. So much for that…
You're still not quite sure if this is all really happening or not. Actually, there are a lot of reasons that would speak against it. You could just test it out. What should you do again to see if you are dreaming or not? Oh yes, pinch your arm. You raise your left arm in front of your chest and pinch your skin once with your fingers. Ouch! That hurt more than you expected it to! A hand comes into your field of vision, grabs your hand and holds it tightly. Startled, you look up to see a red eye and a white eye staring back at you, visibly concerned. "You're hurting yourself," his voice sounds slightly worried. His reaction surprises you so much that you automatically stutter out an, "Sorry." Your mind, meanwhile, is spinning. It hurt.
The spot on your arm still throbs mildly from the pain. And you clearly feel his hand resting around your wrist. This… this can't possibly be real. It would be beyond absurd. Far from all logic. As if in trance, you raise your free hand, placing it shakily on his face, because you simply have to make sure. He holds still, not shying away from your touch even if he seems a bit surprised by it. Slowly you stroke over every little bump and dip. Tracing the little grooves in his face with your fingers. It feels far too real to be a dream. While it should be impossible, you realize that this isn't a daydream. He is really here. Just like you're really here. "But how… " you whisper and fall silent again. You can't help but remember the half-faded memory of that evening. Your first visit in the basement. Your first meeting with your "friend". A doll. So big that you fitted into its lap. That you pretended it was real. Because you felt lonely and didn't wanted to be alone. You spent an entire evening with him as a child. Your throat feels like it's closing up. Your parents never really scolded you before. Except back then. They knew, you realize, and you see the pitiful remains of the torn paper heart as clearly before your eyes as if they were actually lying there in front of you. You cried for so long, even days later you were heartbroken and felt terrible. Because your parents had taken your friend's heart from him. 'Cause they had torn it into little pieces that you couldn't have patched up together with all the duct tape in the world. And because they had locked him back in the dark basement all alone. Oh god… that just… couldn't… be… Finally you begin to understand what's happening here. And at the same time you feel as if you don't understand anything anymore. Confused, you withdraw your hand from his face. "How can that be? How can it be that you… that you are alive?" In your heart you already know the answer, but you need to hear it. Because head-wise, you just can't understand it. Because it shouldn't be possible. Because such things as magic and the like don't really exist. Should not exist. Magic doesn't exist. Not like in the stories you know from your books. He looks at you, the index finger of his free hand first pointing at you, then tapping against the closed flap on his chest. "You gifted us with a heart," his hand rests on his chest in an downright tender gesture, almost as if he can feel the paper heart beating inside it. Wow… that's just… all a bit too much at once. "I… I don't understand how… I mean it was just… ", just a paper heart. That's all it was. So how… You didn't even realize he was still holding your right hand. Until he slowly lets go of it and you feel like you're about to lose the ground under your feet.
In the next moment his hands are already wrapped around you again and this time you understand that he is doing this to pull you into a hug. He never intended to harm you… This time he is also much more careful with you. Like you might break if he touches you too roughly. Or maybe he's just worried you might have another panic attack. You just let him hold you. And although you feel completely overwhelmed, you don't even feel a hint of fear anymore, unlike before. No idea if that is wise or not. Maybe it would be normal to be afraid. To run away from him as fast as possible. But… instead, all you can think about is how long he was locked away in the darkness. Completely abandoned and nearly forgotten with time. Perhaps he had hoped that you would set him free? That you as his friend would come one day and save him? How lonely it must have been to spend all those years down there, without knowing when someone would finally come to look after him… "… what are we supposed to do now?", you hear yourself wondering and feel your hands clinging to him, because you fear that otherwise one of you might just vanish into thin air.
You have no idea how long you both stood there before your head finally felt clear enough to fully register your surroundings. At some point, he started humming softly to himself and stroking your back. Much like you would do with a frightened child. It's soothing. You have to admit that much to yourself. Your forehead rests against his chest. Which, amazingly, actually feels a tiny bit warm and yielding. Not like a human or a normal living being, but still… He is alive. You still can't really make sense of all these things that are happening here, but… at least you've collected yourself enough that you don't feel like you're losing your mind anymore. For the time being, you hope it will stay that way. You go over all the information you've received from him so far in your head. Somehow your self-made paper heart has managed to give him some life. For the… second time. You try to remember the details of your first meeting, but it has been so awfully long ago that it is difficult for you. You think he looked a little different then. Before he came to life, he didn't look the same either. The spikes around his head are missing. And there are bells on the red bands of his wrists that definitely weren't there before. And his colors seem less pale and much more vibrant. You're not quite sure what it means. Maybe it's not too important. At least not so important that you need answers to it right away. Some questions can certainly wait. One thing is clear, though. The idea with the scrapyard is totally canceled! You already felt terrible about it when you considered that option, but now that he's alive, you have no doubt that it would be downright wrong to do that to him.
In some way, it's almost luck that your parents are gone and you now live here alone. As soon as you start thinking about it, you regret the thought. You feel guilty for thinking such things, because it sounds like you are glad that they went missing - or possibly even dead. You may have no idea why they acted the way they did back then, but maybe now that you're an adult you could have talked to them calmly about the situation? Stopped them from locking him away again? Maybe they could have given you answers to some of the questions that your friend can't seem to give you. Well… either way, there's no use thinking about it anymore. They won't be coming back… So it shouldn't be a problem to keep your friend here in the house. The nearest neighbors also live pretty far away. The house is so far out of town that usually no one comes here without a reason. So you don't have to worry about anyone discovering him soon. You don't even want to imagine the chaos that would otherwise follow. Still, you'll probably have to give it some thought. Just in case of an emergency. That is… if he even wants to stay with you… You feel your heart sink a little. You've just accepted it. But… actually, you have no idea what he is thinking about this matter. Or if he has a place where he truly belongs. To which he is drawn. You would like to ask him about it. You want to talk to him and you remember that he doesn't have a name. "Um… say… would… it be okay if I gave you a name?" Oddly tense as if you're asking him something unimaginably stupid, you await his answer. Chances are, he's not okay with this at all. His hand comes to a rest on your back in mid-motion. Carefully you look up at him, noticing that your cheeks are getting a little warmer from embarrassment, and you try to guess from his face what he is thinking. He… looks stunned. Like he didn't expect you to ask him something like that. Oh darn! It probably was a stupid idea in the first place!
"Say it," he whispers to you. His eyes resting gently on you. His smile seems much softer than before. O-okay? Guess that counts as a yes, then. "So… I was thinking… maybe… Moon," you suggest, incredibly nervous. Maybe the name is too childish… or too simple, but when you looked at him, it was the first thing that came to your mind. He just reminds you of the moon. And… and… geez. You look up at him and for some reason you're already expecting him to make a grimace. Maybe it's not such a great idea as you first thought! "I-if you don't like it then-" "Accepted," he interrupts you with a wide and almost amused grin on his face. Against all odds, he looks pleased about his new name. "Oh. Oh… good! Well then… nice to meet you Moon," you smile at him a bit sheepishly and just say the name again to test how it feels. It sounds right to call him so and he also looks at you delighted. Wow. You really feel much better now. He… likes his name. Moon likes his new name! You can't hold back the big smile that appears on your lips. Unfortunately, it is slightly dampened when you think about what you actually wanted to ask him. "Well… I… was wondering… what you're up to now. I mean now that you're alive and all," you explain in a rush. Maybe a little too rushed, but you'd rather get this over with quickly than drag out the question forever. Still, you feel uneasy about it now. As if you could lose your newly found friend right away. " … ", he seems to be thinking. His head lowers towards you. You feel it leaning gently against yours. It's strange how soothing his presence is to you. "Fulfilling your wish." What? "My… wish?" you repeat, confused and with no idea what he's talking about. You don't remember ever having mentioned anything in this direction. And he makes no attempt to be more specific. You feel his fingers digging a little more into the fabric of your shirt before they slowly loosen. The weight of his head on yours also lightens as he straightens himself a little. You have the feeling that Moon wants to say something to you. His hand moves from your back down along your arm and all the way to your hand, which he takes in his and lifts it in front of his face to take a closer look at it for whatever reason. "You should wash your hands~" For a moment, you're silent. Then the corners of your mouth move up and you can no longer manage to fight down the laughter rising in your throat.
"Seriously?" you ask, half in disbelief, half laughing. Of all the things he could have told you, this is what's bothering him the most? You fight your laughing fit with a few deep breaths, some scattered chuckles still creeping into them, and see his eyes narrow into a satisfied smile. "Fine. If you give me my hand back… " you wiggle the fingers of the hand he's holding demonstratively. "I'll gladly do as you say," you finish the sentence with an amused snort. Somehow, the tension is finally gone now. You smile kindly at him and watch as his fingers slowly let go of your hand. You had planned to wash your hands from the beginning anyway, before a certain someone stopped you by giving you the fright of your life with a hug! He follows you around the table, watching every single step you take with great interest. From opening the faucet to washing your sticky and glittery hands with a little soap under the water stream. After you finally get all the sticky and glittery stuff washed off your hands, you turn the faucet off again. Only to see a hand reach past you and push the faucet lever in front of you open and shut several times before his hand withdraws and he turns his attention fully back to you. Hmmm. You should probably give him a little crash course soon on how certain things work around the house. Just so he doesn't accidentally flood your kitchen or bathroom.
"I'll give you a little house tour later." You peer over your shoulder at him as you dry your hands on a dish towel. "I mean… " you take a deep breath. So far, none of you has said it directly. Again, you feel a small pang of nervousness rising in the pit of your stomach. It's all good. Just say what you're thinking. What's the worst that can happen? "… I was just thinking… if you don't have any other plans and… want to stay here, then it might be easier if you know quickly where everything is and how things work", you try to smile confidently, but you can't quite pull it off. Damn, you feel queasy, because you still don't know if he's planning to stay here at all. Why do you even get your hopes up? That's stupid, if not quite selfish of you. Moon can do whatever he wants and doesn't owe you anything. Besides, you would feel even worse if he would stay with you only out of pity or some weird sense of duty…
His posture stiffens a bit and he ducks down so far that he now has to look up at you instead of the other way around. "You… want us to stay?" It almost sounds like he can't quite believe it. … maybe… Moon had felt as insecure as you this whole time? Wondering if you wanted him here or if you were going to send him away. You put the towel aside, carefully turning to face him and leaning towards him to be at the same face level as he is. "I mean, you need a home, right?" Moon still seems hesitant. Or in doubt. You're not quite sure why. "Listen Moon. I… I don't want to force you to stay here if that's not what you want," you explain in a hurry, backpedaling from your last statement, thinking that he might feel compelled to follow your wishes. Perhaps you were mistaken and he was only so hesitant because he had no intention of staying here and your suggestion is now pushing him in that direction? Wow! You did exactly what you said you wouldn't do and feel upset about yourself. Hopefully you can set things straight again. "You are free to go wherever you like, I just thought… if this is a place you could stay… or wanted to stay… then… " Then… it would be nice if he would choose staying with you. But you can't say that without risking to influence his decision or make him feel bad in the end. So you keep that part to yourself.
His hand reaches out to you. You feel his so much larger, cool fingers touch your hand. Gently clasping it. His head is turned toward the floor, making it impossible for you to tell what kind of face he's making. The tip of his dark blue nightcap dangles back and forth between you. And even though you're so close to him, you have trouble understanding his voice when he finally answers you. "Are you sure? Do you really want us with you?" He sounds shaken. Almost afraid. As if he couldn't quite believe that this is what you really want. That it's too absurd that you could want him near you. Even though it hurts you to see him so crushed, you feel your little glimmer of hope from earlier coming back and gently asking to be let in. Evidently you weren't so wrong with one of your previous assumptions. Well… in this case… it might be okay if you be honest with him now. When instead of holding back, you tell him what you want to dispel his doubts. "Yes. I am sure of it. I want you to stay with me," you leave no room for doubt when you say those words. Of course you are insecure about many things and you have a thousand questions and no idea if you will find the answers to all of them. You also don't have the slightest idea what exactly he is. Surely you will encounter some problems. Perhaps not everything will always be easy. But all this doesn't change the fact that you want him to stay with you. That you want to give him a home. If you encounter problems, you will find solutions for them! That's what friends are for, after all. Together you'll get through it. "You're my friend, after all," you add with a soft smile, and with the index finger of your free hand, you give the bell on his cap a little poke, causing it to chime lightly. His head slowly lifts and finally you can look him in the face again. Moon looks like he still can't quite grasp what you've just told him, but slowly it seems to come through to him how sincere you are about it. Without hesitating, you grab his free hand and pull him up with you until you are both standing upright again. With a beaming smile on your face, you look at your tall friend. You want to show him that everything is alright and he doesn't need to worry. This time you are the one taking the initiative and hugging him. Also in order to show him that you really want him to be here. It seems to work, because you can see the corners of his mouth moving up bit by bit until he returns your smile. "Then we'll stay."
You feel sooooooo much better after this is finally settled. In fact, you're so relieved that you're just now realizing that you're pretty hungry. Well, no surprise there. Time for dinner is long overdue. The house tour will just have to wait a tad longer. Ever so carefully, you step out of the embrace. "I guess I should prepare dinner. Are you hungry too?" Could living dolls - or whatever he is - actually get hungry? And if so… did he need anything special to eat? You look at him a little questioningly, and his faceplate tilts away to the side at that unnatural angle again. Is he trying to imitate you right now? "Hungry?" he asks, and you're not quite sure if that means he's hungry or not sure what that even means. Frowning in thought, you look at his mouth. When Moon speaks, it sometimes moves, but somehow still seems like it's carved into his face, which makes it all the more amazing that Moon can show so much facial expression. The observation, while fascinating, leaves you about as wise as you were before. You have no idea if your friend here can even eat food. Logically, it seems completely impossible, but you probably won't get very far with logic, considering the situation you're in.
"Just wait… I'll prepare something and then we can test whether you can eat it or not." You don't have a better idea at hand at the moment and you doubt that an internet search on the subject would help you much. So you start rummaging around in the kitchen cupboards and the fridge for something edible that you can prepare without much effort. Always closely followed by your new roommate. A little too close, as you quickly realize when you turn away from the fridge with your hands full and almost bump into him. "Oh boy. That was close," you stifle a laugh, but have to smile nonetheless. "Moon," you say softly, drawing out the O a little. "You're welcome to watch me, but please do it in a way that I don't accidentally run into you. We don't want to cause any accidents in the kitchen. All right?" you ask him without sounding annoyed, merely giving him an amused look. Luckily, so far you've only had some vegetables, cheese, and a pack of sliced ham in your hand, and not a sharp knife. So everything turned out fine. No one got hurt and so there is no reason to panic. You can understand that this is all new to him. That he wants to know what you're doing. He's acting a bit like Gav when he was a little kid and always wanted to see what Mitch and you were doing, even if you were just fixing the tire on one of your bikes. So Moon possibly feels the same way as Mitch's little brother did back then. Thankfully, he does as you ask and stands at your side while you spread out the food from the fridge on the countertop. Yeah, this is much more comfortable when working.
Since it's already quite late, you won't start cooking anything. But at least you still have the motivation to make some sandwiches. With your newly gained freedom to move, it goes pretty quickly. In no time, the fresh vegetables are washed and cut with a knife. The tomato and cucumber slices land together with the lettuce leaves neatly arranged on the sandwich halves smeared with butter. To be on the safe side, you put cheese on two of the sandwiches and ham on two of the other sandwiches, because you're not sure which of them would be more to Moon's liking. That is, if any of it is to his taste at all. Well, you will have to try and see what works. Smiling, you lift the two plates of sandwiches. "It's nothing special, but: Dinner's ready~" you announce with a gleeful grin to your friend, and carry the plates over to a spot on the table where there's no craft stuff in the way to place them. "Come on, let's sit down." You pull up a chair for Moon and then another for yourself on which you take a seat. With the palm of your hand, you tap the empty chair next to you, smiling and motioning for him to do the same. He comes closer, his hand stroking the wooden back of the chair before he carefully sits down on it and looks at you eagerly, as if he wants to know what will happen next. The scene is actually kind of cute.
But okay, you don't want to put him on the rack any longer! You grab one of the cheese sandwiches and hold it out to Moon. "Here you go," you watch excitedly as he cautiously takes it from you and holds it closer in front of his face, where he looks at it from all sides as if he hadn't just seen how you had prepared it yourself. However… he doesn't make any attempt to eat it. On the contrary, he holds it out to you again. Huh… Does he just want to mirror your gesture from before? He seems to imitate some of the things you do. Or does he just not know what to do with it? "It's meant to be eaten," you explain, but his head just tilts to the side again, while his arm continues to be stretched out towards you. You cross your arms and put your head back for a moment, pondering. " Well… it's like… ", how do you explain eating? Oh! Maybe it would be easier to just show him! You look at him with a confident grin. "I'll show you how to do it, okay?" you blurt out being plenty motivated and thinking it's a pretty good idea. Showing, rather than telling. You bend over a little and bite off a piece of the top of the sandwich he is still holding in front of your nose anyway. "See? Like this," you say as you chew, hoping that's descriptive enough for him to understand. "You… chew it… and… swallow it behind when you're done," you try to explain further with your mouth full. Tensely, you watch Moon pull his hand back, look at the bitten part, then back at you, and no sooner as you've swallowed it down, he's holding the sandwich out to you again. His eyes shine a tiny bit brighter, making him look really gleeful. "Say, Ahhh," his voice sounds downright teasing and his mouth twists into a wide, playful grin.
You raise your eyebrows when you hear him. You didn't teach him that…. … He knows exactly what he's doing! Oh, what a trickster~! You laugh out loud and shake your head at him in disbelief. "You do realize I'm not a child you have to feed. Right?" His amused expression doesn't falter one bit. "Doesn't matter. You have to eat," he makes it sound like there's nothing more to it and that he hasn't just fooled you for his own amusement by making you think he had no idea what it meant to eat. Apparently, behind the quiet facade of your new roommate hides quite a little prankster. Which probably means that your time with him certainly won't be boring, as you happily note to yourself. "That may be true, but you could have told me something if you already knew what eating meant." "… You didn't ask. Besides, it was funnier that way~", a soft giggle reaches your ears and you roll your eyes, grinning at his comment. Well, at least he's honest enough to admit it. "Meanie," you reply without meaning it seriously, since it is way too hard to take offence at his little joke. And in fact, instead of asking him about it, you jumped to the wrong conclusions from his behavior and decided to act ahead of things. So next time you will try to play it safe first. But in any case, it also means that he already has a bit of basic knowledge. Besides, you've noticed for a while now that he understands you a lot better and knows how to express himself than he seemed to in the beginning. Which is really good! That means you can talk so much easier with each other! Maybe he can read as well? You should definitely find out! But maybe not right now. One thing at a time. "All right. I've learned my lesson. So would you be so kind and tell me if you need to eat?" you ask him, becoming a bit more serious. After all, you want to be able to take good care of him. "Eating is not necessary," he tells you as if the idea alone is very silly to him. Okay. But not necessary and not possible were still two different pairs of shoes. And the one did not automatically exclude the other. As if he had already guessed your thoughts, he keeps talking.
"We can't take it to us anyway." "Oh." Well… so much for that, then. You lightly rub the back of your neck with your hand. "I see… " That's almost a bit of a shame. It probably would have been fun to cook for two instead of just for you. But no big deal. At least you're a little smarter now! "Okay, so no edibles. But… is there anything else you need? To feel… well?" You're not sure yourself what else he might need. Water? Magic? Sunshine? Electricity? Nonsense, he is not a machine. And not Frankenstein's monster either. But does he need… some kind of energy to move? Some bizarre magic ritual? A bath in the light of the full moon or something whacky like that? Slightly braced, you hope for an answer to this question. The sly expression from earlier has disappeared from his face, suddenly looking much softer as he stares at you and assures you: "We have everything we need. No need to worry about it." You're not quite sure if that's true, but there's no reason to doubt Moon's words either. So you decide to trust him and nod slightly. "Fine, I'll take you at your word. But if there's ever anything I can help you with or so, tell me right away. No need for false modesty. Okay?", the least you can do is offer your help to him. Not that he's just holding back for some odd reason. You know how it feels when you don't say what you actually want out of consideration for others, and you'd just be happy if he'd be straightforward with you instead, if there's something you can do for him. "Agreed~." You close your eyes and breathe out slowly. Good, so that's also clarified. You've learned something new again. When you open your eyes, you find the sandwich you have bitten into right in front of your face. Again. "Now eat." He makes no move to put it in your hand, obviously wanting to continue feeding you. Also, the playful grin is back. For maybe five seconds, you consider whether it's worth the effort or your pride to get into a discussion with him that he really doesn't has to feed you to make you eat. You decide: No, it's not worth it. So you just take a good bite of the sandwich offered to you. Let him have his fun, you will certainly not let him tease you with something like this.
During your house tour, Moon followed you like a duckling wherever you led him, while he curiously looked at the individual rooms on the first floor, which included the kitchen, the living room, a small bathroom, and a guest room. You only left out the basement for obvious reasons. Since neither of you was particularly eager to go back down there. At this point, you're leaving the bathroom upstairs, which is a lot bigger than the one downstairs and also has a bathtub in it. You want to save your room for last. So you turn right and follow the hallway to the end, where there are two doors opposing each other. "And this is… this is… ", your shoulders stiffen a bit as you stare at the closed door of your parents' now unused bedroom. "Well… my parents' bedroom." Unlike the other rooms, you hesitate to open it. It still feels awkward to just walk in there, even after nearly a year. You don't usually enter it unless you air it out or do some vacuuming and dusting once a month in there. Reaching for the door handle, your hand pushes it down to open the door. You've left mostly everything as it is. Except for the bedding, which you took off at some point to wash it before putting it away in the large closet on the wall so it wouldn't collect any more dust. Unlike the other rooms, you stop at the doorstep, not entering, but give Moon a chance to go in. However, he seems to notice that this room makes you uncomfortable, because like you, he refrains from going inside and just looks at it from the hallway. "They are no longer here. They… um… never mind, it isn't that important… Anyway, it's just the two of us here. So… no need to worry, okay?" This time he doesn't have to worry about losing his heart or his newfound freedom again. Since Moon don't look like he wants to go in, you carefully close the door before turning to the other one.
Much less timidly, you open it and turn on the light as you enter. "Well, and this is their study," the room is quite large. Lots of piled up bookshelves with old looking books and file folders that line up in what feels like endless rows are in here. A large desk made out of dark wood stands near the shelves, while there is a small sitting area at the other end of the room that consists of a flat table, an armchair, and a sofa that can fit two people. Both the desk and the flat table have various writing utensils and closed folders lying around. The loose papers with handwritten notes, which used to be scattered all over the place, have been stored in empty boxes over the months and then dumped next to the armchair, because you didn't know what else to do with them. On the one hand it looks much neater and on the other hand it doesn't collect dust like that. You lean against the front edge of the heavy desk while you watch Moon walking past the rows of shelves and examining some of the books with curious interest. "They've gathered a lot of documents about all the things in the basement up here. I think it was some sort of hobby of theirs? You know, collecting antiques and whatnot and doing research on its history. They also collected all kinds of articles about some pretty wild stories and stuff like that. Some of the books are quite obscure. Folklore, tales from different regions, some pseudo-occult works that somebody came up with at some point. I've just flipped through them here and there." In the hope that it might give you a clue about their whereabouts. But it didn't lead you anywhere.
"I looked at some of the articles, too. There's… some pretty heavy stuff in there about… ", you shake your head and grimace a little. No, you decide you'd rather not tell Moon about any details of that nasty stuff. "Doesn't matter what exactly was in it. Half of it was probably just nonsense anyway," stuff that some newspapers have hyped up to make headlines or came from shady newspaper publishing companies anyway. "Let's just say… I'm not too fond of scary stories and the like," you admit with a slight sigh. One more reason why you've rarely stayed here in the study. But maybe… some of the stories and articles weren't so far-fetched when you think about who you're talking to. In a way, you are experiencing firsthand an encounter with the supernatural. Except it doesn't feel like one of those horrible horror stories at all. "Haaaaaaah," you take a deep breath to regain your composure and give Moon a small smile, who is eyeing you thoughtfully. "Anyway, they traveled around a lot because of that and for their work too." At least, that's what you've always thought… Now you're not so certain anymore, considering that your childhood experience wasn't pure imagination, and your parents clearly kept you away from Moon on purpose. For whatever reason. If you think about it, maybe their so-called hobby was more related to their week-long work trips than you always thought. Moon is silently listening to you so far. Just lets you keep talking and somehow you're quite glad he's not asking you any questions. You shove your hands into the pockets of your pants and shift your weight nervously from one foot to the other. "… but… maybe I didn't know them as well as I thought I did," you mumble, shrugging your shoulders slightly. It's not as easy for you to talk about the two as you wish. Who knows what else your parents kept hidden from you. "Anyway… you're always welcome to look around in here if you like or if you find anything in here interesting," maybe you should take a closer look at the folders yourself. Perhaps then you might be able to find out what exactly your old friend is. Well… now there's only one room left… You start smiling again, take your hands out of your pockets and hold out your hand to Moon. "Come, I want to show you my room", you are so excited to finally show it to him!
Walking hand in hand, you gently pull Moon along with you, leading him to the other end of the hallway. "Behind the door on the right is the staircase to the attic. There's just a bunch of dusty boxes with old clothes, toys and books. Oh and some furniture that's been replaced. So everything that nobody needed anymore, but was considered too good to throw away. And I guess, a dozen or more spiders are living up there. So we'd better not disturb them," you explain much more cheerfully than before, winking briefly at your friend, for which you earn an amused smile from him before turning to the other door. "And this is my room," you say, opening the door right away. Gently releasing Moon's hand, you take a step into the room and flip on the light switch. You wave cheerfully for him to come in. Moon looks at you with a visibly amused expression on his face before he accepts your invitation and follows you. Does he recognize it? The room has changed a lot since you were a child. Well, no wonder. You're not eight anymore, after all. And you definitely wouldn't fit in your old bed anymore! Your new bed, on the other hand, has plenty of room for you to spread your legs and roll around in it to your heart's content. A thin blanket for the warm summer nights and lots of soft pillows with different patterned covers are lying inside, just waiting for you to snuggle into them soon to get a good night's sleep. Except for the big, snow-white and very round bird stuffed animal that sits between the pillows on your bed and that you fell in love with when you were a kid, the rest of your toys have gone either to the attic or to the children of acquaintances of your parents over the years, where they still served a good purpose.
On the left side of the bed stands a small night table. A book is lying on it with a bookmark sticking out. Your digital alarm clock is next to it and you try to suppress a rising yawn as you read the time on the display. Normally, you'd be in bed by now. But today is anything but normal. Moon takes a good look around. He walks through your room in his somewhat cowering posture, reminding you a bit of a shy animal getting accustomed to a new environment. Everything that seems remotely interesting to him he takes in his hands to give it a closer look before putting it back at the exact spot he found it. Now he holds one of the small plastic stars in his hand, which once hung on the ceiling of your room and are now scattered on the bookshelves as decoration. The last of the luminous stars on your ceiling fell down a few years ago, which you took as an opportunity to paint the ceiling yourself a dark sea green that contrasts nicely with the rest of the light-colored walls. "They fell off the ceiling over time," you tell him, standing next to him. He turns the star back and forth between his dark blue fingertips. Looks like he likes it. Well… his clothes have a pretty straightforward theme, judging by the pattern of his cap and pants, which are covered in yellow stars. "One year, nearly every two weeks, one came off. Perfect year for watching shooting stars," looking back it was darn funny and there wasn't a morning that went by that you didn't check to see if you could find another one of the plastic stars somewhere in your bed. "One time one fell on my head in the middle of the night." Moon looks up at you. He tilts his head to the side. A smile lingers in his eyes as he listens with interest. So you just keep talking. "I didn't noticed until I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth in front of the mirror," you babble and smile a bit sheepish at him. His gaze wanders from you to the star in his hand and back again. In the next moment, he rises to his full height and gently tucks the star in his hand behind your ear. Um… what's this about? You stare at him, dumbfounded. Not moving. His face is close to yours and you notice a mischievous twinkle in his mismatched eyes. "You should have made a wish," he whispers to you and you think you hear a suppressed laugh in his voice. "Huh?", wish for something? It takes you a second before you realize he's talking about the stars. Oh jeez! Now you're back to smiling. "I don't think that counts for plastic stars." It's a cute thought, though. "Putting that aside, it would be super tough to say your wish three times as fast as they fall to the floor," you object, looking at him with amusement. Your hand carefully searches for the small star he's tucked behind your ear. "And… I wouldn't know what to wish for anyway," you confess, smiling softly, and slowly pulling the star from behind your ear before placing it back in Moon's hand. Even the heavens might not be able to make some things come true, no matter how many times you would have entrusted your wishes to it. Not that you believe much in such things as higher powers or any gods. And… it's not that you are unhappy. Everything could be much worse, you always tell yourself. You have everything you need to get along on your own. However, from now on you aren't alone anymore. The thought is still so new to you that you can hardly believe it. Moon eyes you lost in thought for a sec. The red light around his pupils flickers softly as his eyes wander back to the plastic star you gave him back. He puts it on the shelf and continues his little tour through your room.
You show Moon the rest of the room, which is quite large and spacious, just like your parents' bedroom. You really never could complain about a lack of space. There is not much left from the time when this was your childhood bedroom. Aside from a few fairy tale books, most of your children's books have been replaced by a variety of non-fiction books about plants and gardening, as that subject has taken up more and more space in your progressing life. Your favorite novels have their own little corner on the two bottom wall shelves to the left of the bed. On the upmost shelf, on the other hand, is a collection of smaller, uniquely shaped and colored nightlights. You are especially fond of the small glass dome with the wooden base on which are several pink blossoming LED tulips. Currently they are turned off, but when you turn them on they emit an incredibly pleasant light in the dark. If you feel like setting a bit of a cozy atmosphere in the evening, you turn on your little collection while you watch a movie on your laptop or listen to some music on your bed in the partial darkness.
You push the two heavy curtains aside to show Moon the hidden bay window behind them, it's the counterpart to the one in the bedroom across the hall. An upholstered bench seat with a few cushions and a bedspread are tucked inside. "During daytime, you have a really nice view over the back garden from here. I'm sure you'll love it," you love sitting here to read or just daydream a bit while staring outside. "Can't see much of it now, I'm afraid," you admit sheepishly, kneeling slightly on the bench to take a look out the window. "But when the lights are off in the room, you get a good view of the stars, if it's not cloudy," there are some benefits to living so far out of town. You climb all the way up on the bench and gesture for him to join you. If you bend your legs a little and move close enough to the window panes, there is enough room for the two of you to sit. The wood creaks a little as he joins you, but it easily holds your combined weight. Like you, he pulls his long legs as close to his body as he can and tries to make himself as small as possible. The sight automatically brings a happy smile to your face and carefully you lean a bit to the side to reach for the curtains and draw them shut so that the rest of your room is no longer visible. It's much dimmer now that the light from the ceiling lamp is no longer reaching you both with its full brightness. You lean back again, placing one of the pillows in your back to sit more comfortably, and you take on an almost conspiratorial tone as you tell him: "Now it's our little secret hideout where no one will ever find us." At least, that's what you often told yourself as a kid. "Just the two of us," he confirms cheerfully, his eyes now shining much more intensely in the dim light and reflecting in the dark window panes while casting a soft red glow on you two.
"Mhm, hey, Moon?", you almost whisper. "Yeah?" you hear him respond just as quietly. You pull your knees closer to you, resting your arms around them and your head on them. "… I'm sorry I didn't get you out of there sooner," you murmur lowly. Your heart feels heavy while you speak and you lower your gaze a little. And although he hasn't shown any signs of being angry with you about it yet, you couldn't blame him if he was. No matter how hard you try, you can't even begin to imagine how traumatic it must have been to have your heart ripped out of your chest and then destroyed. What it must feel like to spend years locked up all alone in darkness… Before you can dwell any longer on it, a hand wraps around your shoulder. You notice how Moon changes his sitting position and pulls you over to him. Before you have a chance to stop him, you find yourself sitting in his lap, forehead resting against the blue fabric of his collar. He strokes you tenderly over the head. "Not your fault," Moon whispers softly. "But… I should have… ", you attempt to speak, feeling your voice tremble as you do so. "Shh. It's all right. No need to cry. Keep the bad thoughts away." Even though he says that, you're still so terribly sorry for what happened to him. And yet here he sits, comforting you now. Shouldn't it be the other way around? "Was it painful? Were you lonely?" you ask in a quiet voice. " … ", at first he doesn't answer and you're unsure if maybe you shouldn't have brought it up. "I… don't know. Can't remember. Only blurred fragments. Flashes. Not sure why… " He lifts one hand, puts it lightly on his face as if he was touching his forehead in an attempt to remember. Meanwhile, with the other hand, he holds you a little tighter.
He… doesn't remember? Is it just the time between your reunion or… does it also include your first encounter? Your right hand wanders to his chest, where it halts over the hidden chamber. You lean a little closer against him as you listen silently. It's the only thing you can do for him right now. "Before… I woke up, everything is… like static. Vague shapes. The first clear memory is you. Your back. You felt familiar. I knew you were our friend," his hand lowers again, gently stroking your cheek and you feel his face press gently against your head in a familiar gesture. You put your arms around him, holding him close as your head spins, like a merry-go-round. Moon is suffering from amnesia. He can't seem to remember your first time together. And yet, in a way, he recognized you. Didn't forget you completely. Could it be… that it has to do with the fact that his original heart was destroyed? Is that why he has trouble remembering? You unconsciously cling to him a little more. "I… I'll take care of you from now on," you promise him. You mean it. You're no longer a helpless little kid who can only watch and cry when his friend needs help. You won't let the past repeat itself. "I know," he answers as if he never even doubted it.
By now, you feel really exhausted. Sleepy and on the brink of falling asleep. A soft yawn comes out of your mouth. Your body feels heavy and the fact that Moon has started patting your head and humming softly in your dim hideout doesn't make it any easier to find the strength to get up again. "You should sleep. It's late," you hear him whisper close to your ear. You smile a little at that. "Mhmmmm. You're probably right… but… not here," you try to shake off the tiredness and slowly sit up. "As cozy as this is… ", and dang, it really is. "… I still have to prepare a place for you to sleep first." "No need. This will do." You raise an eyebrow and look up at him, puzzled. "You sure? I mean you could have the guest room. Or I could at least get you a mattress topper and put it next to my bed if you'd rather stay in my room. I'm sure that's more comfortable for sleeping than the bench," not that you haven't managed to fall asleep here yourself, but still. "Don't need sleep." You blink at him in surprise. Oh… okay? Guess it was like the no food thing then. "Huh. Alright, I guess? Um… do you need anything else for the night then? So you don't get bored?" "I'll just watch you sleep. Scare away naughty nightmares when they sneak up on you." Looks like Moon's gone back to making silly jokes. You smile a little at this, but it's already showing how tired you are. "Not creepy at all~ But if it makes you happy, fine by me," let him watch you sleep if he wants. He allows you to climb off his lap and you slide the curtains aside to hop off the bench. "But if you do get bored at some point, you're welcome to explore the house. Just… keep your hands off any switches that aren't for turning on or off the lights or faucets for now until I have explained to you how all the stuff works tomorrow. Okay?" "Understood. We'll behave," he replies with such a sly grin that you hope he'll truly follow your request. Well, chances are he's just trying to tease you a little and will actually be good. "Great. Then… I'll just go downstairs to turn off the lights, brush my teeth and change into something comfy," you announce and search for your pajama under the blanket in your bed. Ah there it is. "Just make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back," you call out to him as you're halfway out the door.
There, you've changed. All the doors are locked, the shutters are down, and you've filled your thermos with tea when you stopped by the kitchen to turn off the lights. By now you realize how the exhaustion of the day sinks into your bones. You click the light switch and the hallway light goes off as you enter your room and freeze in the middle of the doorway, only to let out a rather loud snort shortly after. Moon sits half sunken in the large beanbag chair that stands next to the bay window. He's looking rather grumpy, and the way his long limbs stick out at odd angles beyond the ends of the beanbag doesn't look comfortable at all. You giggle softly and receive an offended look from him before he stretches his arms out to you as if asking for help. "We're sinking! It's eating us!" he says in such an exaggerated manner that it reminds you of a performance from one of those trash movies Mitch sometimes brings over to watch with you. "Coming~" you reply with a grin, but before you do you leisurely set your thermos down on the nightstand and flick on the small lamp next to it before walking around the bed towards him. "Hurry! Help us! Before we get all gobbled up!" You look at him with amusement. What an actor. He probably wouldn't have any trouble freeing himself in the first place. "It's fine. See? I'm already here," smiling, you grab his hands that are reaching out to you and pull him out of the oh-so-dangerous death trap without really having to put much effort into it. "Looks like you're still in one piece," you comment with a smile as he stands in front of you. "Just barely," Moon replies with a wide grin, and you give him a gentle smack on the chest. Which he immediately uses as an opportunity to throw himself backwards and right into the so-called death trap. He is kicking his arms as if in agony. "Oh no! You've pushed us! We're trapped again and dying!" He makes a noise as if it were his last breath and shortly thereafter remains motionless. You already have tears in your eyes from laughing. If you hadn't left your cell phone in the living room downstairs, you would have been recording a video right now. "Okay, okay. Enough dying for tonight," you grab his limply lying hand on the floor and watch as one of his eyes, which had darkened earlier, comes back to life with a red flicker and stares at you, mockingly, as you hear him chuckle softly at his own joke. A yawn is mixed in between your scattered chuckles once again, and you rub your eyes with your free hand a little. His fingers wrap around the hand that's holding him, and this time Moon is up before you could even make the attempt to pull him to his feet. "Time for bed," he murmurs and you merely nod in agreement. Sounds like a great idea to you.
You let Moon lead you to your bed while he's holding your hand. Oh, darn, you totally forgot… "I have to turn off…," the light, is what you want to say. But Moon cuts you off midsentence. "Lie down. I'll take care of it," gently he pushes you onto the mattress and you don't protest any further. You hear him scurry over to the door and in the next moment the big ceiling lamp goes dark. Tired, you crawl under the covers as you watch him come back to your bed and sit down on the floor to your left. You feel around with one hand for the switch on the bedside lamp and flip it off before rolling over to the other bedside where he is waiting. The room is completely dark now. Well… almost. Moon's red eyes glow softly in the dark. However, it's not the only thing that glows. The stars on his clothes also stick out against their dark background. He really is full of surprises, isn't he? The familiar sight of the glowing stars brings a small smile to your face. From under the covers, you reach out your hand and holding it out to him. Once again, his cool fingers wrap around yours. It is reassuring to feel his presence. To know that he is right next to you. "Good night, Moon. See you tomorrow," you mumble sleepy. A faint "Nighty-night" is all you hear before you are already fast asleep.
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thebuggiest · 8 months
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The Magnus Protocol ep 1-4 thoughts
So many spoilers for TMA and TMAGP under the cut lmfao god it's good to be back on my bullshit
FIRST SHIFT- First file? case? whatever, that's deffo this universe's anglerfish. The speaker says that something took Jacob into the shadows, and the returned Jacob's comment on being "some of him" mirrors what Sarah Baldwin said to Jon in TMA ep 96: "Some of her. Skin, a few memories. Not on the inside." Fun callback to the first episode of TMA. Second file elicits a reaction from Sam because of the mention of the Magnus Institute, so the horrible thing he's seen that was mentioned in the TMAGP interview-with-Lena trailer is likely linked to it. Also, the Magnus Institute burning down… I really hope that means this universe has a Gertrude, and she's still around. I'd also like to point out the mention of strange symbols found in the Institute. I'll talk more about this soon. Also: what or who killed redcanary? There's a part of me that wonders if there's an Archivist wandering in the tunnels beneath the institute similar to the one under Alexandria in TMA ep 53 (rc mentions spelunking specifically, not just urban exploration, which is why I think he went into the tunnels for sure.) Other notes: Teddy quit. You can quit here. That's good to know. Less comforting is that the recording of Sam and Alice in the bar sounds like it came through one of their phones- muffled and not in the office where the computer microphones can get at them. Also: Gwen Bouchard is interesting. I want to know why she's too stubborn to look for work elsewhere, as clearly she isn't wanting for money. She could have some affinity for government secrets due to some connection with the Eye, but even in TMA's universe Elias was just an upperclass meatsuit for Jonah Magnus. I'll be curious to see what unfolds.
MAKING ADJUSTMENTS- I have a hunch that Ink5oul is going to pop up again. It seems like a rich vein to plumb given how the tattoo they(she?) gave their victim and what unfolded seemed tailored to her. Plus, they were the instigator of the horror without being its focus, and they've got a big cool tattoo that will make them easy to recognize. More importantly, the victim apparently found Ink5oul when looking up symbols for a commission involving alchemy. I think alchemical symbols (or other weird occult symbolism) might crop up as a recurring motif in TMAGP, as they mentioned symbols in the Institute as well (placed there by the inhabitants or whoever started the fire?) Other notes: Alice has a brother named Luke who is part of a moderately successful band but doesn't play an instrument. I'll circle back to that.
PUTTING DOWN ROOTS- Nice gristly little (probably) Corruption linked story. Outside of the case, I like that Alice's devil-may-care attitude makes it hit harder when she tells Sam she's being serious about something. It's also kind of interesting to see that Sam gets along much better with Gwen than Alice does. I wonder if that comes from a dislike of confrontation. I'm also curious to see where this mention of redundancies goes-- it's a contrast to TMA, in which getting let go was not something they had to worry about.
TAKING NOTES- The story about the murder violin is quite clearly Slaughter, and yet the fact that it thirsts for his physical suffering as well gives a tint of Desolation over the thing, despite the lack of firey motifs. Maybe we'll get more of the gray areas between powers in TMAGP. Something I really want to speculate about though is whether someone's little brother in a band might get hold of the evil violin sometime. That would be sick. More in line with the story: Merchant immediately reminds me of both Breekon and Hope and Mikaele Salesa. We will see if he and/or his oddly shaped sack come back into things. I wonder if the sack is an artifact itself, as he sounded a little surprised by the appearance of the violin in its depths. Other notes: Interesting that the computer system (I forget how they said Freddy was 1337ed out) is dropping info for both Alice and Gwen here. I could have sworn Alice just exploited a loophole or something to find out about Sam's snooping-- except that's the exact opposite of what she's been telling him to do. And Gwen seemed like she was just doing her job when the video or audio file dropped into her workstation.
Anyways. Excited to hear the next ep tomorrow.
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hillarysss · 4 years
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RAHU IN THE HOUSES🦹🏽‍♀️
Heyy guys I’m back :)) I’ve just been focusing on myself lately. And I’ve been wanting to talk about more Vedic astrology since I know some of my followers really like Vedic! There isn’t one that is better or worse but personally do think that Vedic can be more helpful when it comes to life events and predictions. ☺️ 
RAHU PLANET COMBINATIONS
Some words associated with Rahu:  confusion, obsession, travel, diseases. 
Rahu is not a physical planet.
Rahu is a malefic planet, meaning whatever house is in even though there is houses Rahu excels in  (3rd, 6th, 10th, 11th) it still brings malefic effects, that’s what it does. 
Some of my interprations may not resonate because it depends on the whole chart. These are some general intepretations.
How to calculate my Vedic Birth-chart? 
https://vaultoftheheavens.com/ChartCreatorLahiri/Welcome.aspx << (Click North Indian, it is preferred) 
Rahu in 1st house: Such person is incredibly intelligent. But doesn’t always use it for good. They can find themselves in a lot of scandals. Loves material things and go as far as recklessly loosing money for luxury. Identity issues, needs validation. Such person has incredible good motivation to reach a higher status in life and will most likely not fail to do so. However, if Rahu is bad placed in a sign it can bring issues with the physical body and mental health. This placement is prone to be mentally ill. Goes through a bunch of obstacles in early life. If Rahu is in a good sign, wealth is a common theme for this placement.
Rahu in 2nd house: Such person is most likely attached to their family image, may know multiple languages or is interested to do so. You may have intrusive thoughts and can suffer not knowing what is the reason to keep living. Low self-esteem. If in a exalted sign could have a rich partner. Even if they are attached to family image their family probably isn’t as good as they want it to be. They care a lot about their image. Has intellect with their words and knows what to say and this will get them to such higher position in life. Speaks quite fast.
Rahu in 3rd house: This is flavorable placement for Rahu. (: Could have bad relationships with siblings or have a brother.(If Malefic, If in a good sign you have a very good relationship with your siblings.** You express your opinions openly and this can make you someone a lot of people look up to especially on the web. Most likely will go on a bunch of mini vacations. Such person has ego and loves being unique. Intelligent people. Since Rahu is associated with Illusion such people can make up fake scenarios and stories just for their own ego and validation. Type to make original stories way more dramatic to please other people. Manipulative but doesn’t get caught easily. Natural charm. 
Rahu in 4th:  From my observations, people with Rahu in 4th could have a famous family member or/and a family member that is quite wealthy. The more feminine figure (Usually the mother) plays a big role for people with Rahu in 4th. You can usually find this placement in big internet trolls as person lacks empathy to other people perspective. Impulsive. Person may move a lot. Probably doesn’t live where they were born. May have very unusual secretive hobbies. Family may not know them a lot since person can be quite secretive. Mother could’ve suffered from something and could’ve been delusional. Mother may always put pressure. Generous but with big ego. Most likely donates their money to special things. 
Rahu in 5th: Most likely wants to be famous and will go to absurd lengths to get it. Can and might as well step on others in order to get their goal. However, this placement makes someone clever and very creative! May not have any children or could damage their children. Was probably the mean popular girl. Confident but sometimes over the top. Can benefit from investments. Likes to learn new things and has a bunch of stored knowledge. Loves books. Interested in singing or any creative field.
Rahu in 6th: Persuasive individuals. Opstimistic about challenges. Most likely has very good health.  May be involved in traumatic events like kidnapping or theft. Criminal record is found in Rahu in 6th individuals. Very good with fighting. Will benefit greatly with their own bussiness. People look up to them but yet initmidated. Such individual most likely has a controversial status yet powerful. Very strategic. You can’t beat them in arguements.
Rahu in 7th: Unhappy marriage is very possible here. Has a bunch of sexual partners and most likely has a lot of relationships. Is obsessed with the idea of another being in their life. Has to be careful about what they say cause anything they say can be used very badly especially with partnerships. Info might be exposed things they only gave to their partners. Such as nudes being exposed or anything very personal. Most likely will have a bunch of achievements in life. Confusion within their own personality. Highly dominating. Will be known. Very skillful and knows how to use it to their advantange. Can be very spiritual. Can push their opinions on to others.
Rahu in 8th: A lot of physical issues is promiment. Issues with law. Will have a bunch of changes throughout their life wether they’re good or bad they will happen often. Your family may suffer with money. Could end up homeless at some point. Has very good charm with people. Deaths can be a common theme here. Good researches and can find out anything & can detect bullshit. May have thought about being a detective during their life. Interest in astrology. Wouldn’t be suprised if a lot of you guys have this lol. Extremely good intuition. Great mind for researching the occult. 
Rahu in 9th: Constantly doubts everything and everyone, may have trust issues. Stubborn minded people. Very big love on foreign lands. Good common sense and can excell in politics. May fake their background to fit in. May have a bad relationship with the father figure. Constantly wastes money. But they can also have income from many different sources. Wants the truth and only that. Interest in traveling abroad. Could be seen as mean. Will seek higher knowledge and the truth. 
Rahu in 10th: Will experience a bunch of life changing events in life. This usually brings more positive than negative here. (It depends on aspects) . Rahu in 10th is found in extremely sucessfull individuals. May change workplace quite often. Something common with this placement is rag to riches. Such person could’ve been born in a poor environment and then they rise up to fame and recognition. They succeed professionally. Could have interest in Social Work. Can use their tactics for the wrong way to get what they want. However, love life may suffer. 
Rahu in 11th: Type of person to have had interactions with people of power. Prone to miscarriages. Will succeed in Marketing. Has a bunch of dreams they wanna chase after. Friendships will help a bunch to this native this lifetime. (: Receives much love from others but may not give it back..  Always sees the good in everyone and this can set them back. Should be careful when taking advice from others. Can be extremely naive. Will use their imagination this lifetime to achieve higher power and is possible they will succeed doing so.
Rahu in 12th: Will achieve good success relating to Spiritual growth. May write books or blogs about their spiritual knowledge. Could be psychic or/and astrologer. Most likely won’t have a traditional career. Can cause trouble relating to professional life. May have long-distance partners. Could be prone to being catfished. A lot of healers have this placement. May have trouble sleeping. Very religious or can be very attached to their own beliefs. Will go to extra lengths to escape from reality. Compassionate human being.
Let me know if you guys want more Vedic content. Give some feedback  🥰
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ladyyatexel · 3 years
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I Went On A Manga Binge
So you don't have to
For those of you who have wisely avoided the shreds of it I've left around the blog thus-far, I had some weird notion to go re-experience Yu-Gi-Oh uuuuuh a week ago? We'll go with that. Time is meaningless.
I'd been able to read a good portion of the early manga at the end of highschool, and somewhere in my stacks and stacks of paper is fanart from this dark time, so you know I cared. I also still own a Dark Magician action figure somehow, so. I'd also watched a large portion of the anime with my brother because it had been laced with some kind of crack and we couldn't look away? I remember when we both were just like shit, wait, don't change the channel, I can't stop looking at it. And the next thing we knew we were waiting for new episodes and I was doing research on the Japanese original because I was that kid.
Anyway, unnecessary backstory out of the way, here are some... let's call them Observations and Consequences of having read somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 chapters (and growing) of a manga primarily hinged on card games from a spectrum of sources ranging from boringly lawful to sketchy as fuck.
Surprise actual character that develops in typical shounen fashion being Jounouchi. My limited experiences with the 4Kids dub and only early manga had not painted him in a particularly good light. I don't know if episodes were being aired out of order or if I had just missed the ones that established that he was making shit up as he was going along, but Wow I liked him a lot more going through the manga than I ever did watching the (dubbed, heavily edited and censored and thrown into a slurry machine) anime. I'd managed to come out with the impression that he was just as reasonably experienced with the game as Yugi back in the day. Wild.
I'm now reading every single comic-style post on Tumblr backwards.
Striking inverse to first point, wow, I don't like Seto Kaiba. Though he gets points for his general philosophy of the future, and the line I read in my sketchy online combo of scans and scanlations in which he said, "If God is in your way, you run him down," was Metal As Fuck. I somewhat shame-facedly admit to enjoying him a lot more as an Abridged Series character. (I watched Abridged as it came out back in the day! The experience of watching the anime with my brother had been so fresh that I got all the in jokes about the way things were edited and dubbed, it was great. Series remains influential part of my life to this day, which is hella weird.)
I almost understand how Duel Monsters works now. I don't want this.
That said, wow a lot of the decisions made in the anime made everything a lot more ridiculous than the admittedly already ridiculous original. I got the distinct feeling in the manga that the Duelist Kingdom stuff we were seeing was designed to be used and exploited in ways that don't make sense in an actual cardgame just played on a table like a normal person and this was part of testing everyone to think higher, differently. Maybe this is obvious to everyone already, I don't know. I had always liked that it was very, 'Not so fast, I'm going to blow up the moon to change the tides,' but I'm not really sure the anime gave enough explanation that this was an extra layer added to things for that event? You can see people actively getting used to it in the books, and people who aren't considering the real or 3D nature of it getting owned, but my memory of anime version is everyone just like, 'oh, shucks, fuck me, I forgot to consider the phase of the moon before i played this card, can't believe I forgot.' No one calls Yugi on any of this stuff because it's valid play in that situation. Plus Yami Yugi had mad trickster energy in the beginning and it suited him to think of ways to do things inside these little simulation boxes the way it suited him to set perverts on fire. I imagine the real card game trying to emulate this element as something that would be to its detriment, but I neither know nor particular care haha
Ryou Bakura.
Really, though. I think he became kind of casualty of 'wow, we have a lot of characters who really aren't able to do anything in this story anymore,' despite the fact that his whole inner life could have been as interesting as Yugi's. I always like thinking about the possibilities of stories in which main character falls into magical world and is given magical item and told they're the hero and then they find out they've been the bad guy the whole time. The first several volumes of manga were about the quiet weirdo kid that no one talked to who was always blacking out and turning into a fucked up version of himsef because he was so attached to his ancient Egyptian jewelry, so like, Bakura could have much the same shit going on. I want to know what's happening with him so much. He clearly doesn't love being possessed, but he's also so drawn to the ring. Despite it having stabbed him at least twice and him knowing it's a danger to him and his friends, he keeps being pulled back into it. You see so much more of him being like, 'Oooh, a creepy thing, I love that! :D' in the manga than ever in the anime, which I'm all about. Also more blood. I'm very about that as well. Though my memory of the anime also made it look very much like normal regular daily Bakura was just a weird facade in places before he ever would have been. I think that was it trying to compensate for what people didn't see from the Toei anime, but okay whatever, that I love everything about this guy is not news, I don't need to talk about Bakura excessively here, I'm pretty sure that's gonna show up on my blog by itself
On a related note though, damn, more of these people need to talk to each other. Can we have some existential crisis support clubs or something. Can we get like some apologies or something? "I respect you as a duelist." "Cool, but you literally built a tower designed to specifically assassinate me and my friends? You were supposed to get Better after I retaliated by putting you in a coma, but you kinda didn't." "Why would the coma have made it better" "I just told you it didn't" ---- "Sorry I went along with the plan of your evil parasite stabbing you, misled you, and then also jumped in and took up some real estate in your head too." "I understand, I also have an evil thing inside me that does things while I'm blacked out." "...no, I was conscious for all of that." "Oh." "..." "..." "..." "Do you like Ouija Boards?" "sure okay" ETC. Like damn we are reading shounen manga because no one is talking extensively about their feelings here and I'm tapping my foot angrily.
Holy shit there are so many mythologies happening at once. The ancient family guarding the Egyptian Pharaoh has a surname that's a Mesopotamian goddess. None of the god cards make any Egyptian sense except Ra, and just like. Baaarrrrely. Somewhere either Evil Ring Bakura or Mar/lik makes a reference to cremation and spirits being taken to heaven with smoke which several things, but definitely not Ancient Egyptian. Marik/Malik meanwhile is clearly trying to head Arabic, along with Rishid, but then, hey, our sister is just Isis. Goddess McGoddess. Sometimes they're the same goddess! Her name could be Isis Isis or Ishtar Ishtar. Meanwhile, all the obviously 'occult because Christians think it is freaky' stuff. ~ancient egyptian pentagrams~~~This isn't a complaint, I guess so much as a 'Wow, I can kind of see the cultural spot the author was coming from and where he was aiming' kind of thing.
Wonder where things would have gone if the card games had not been latched onto the way they were.
Managed to forget how gross the pre-cardgames stuff was on the sexual harassment front. I'm glad there was a sort of explanation of everyone drifting away from being dick heads and that that decision was made. It got way more comfortable to read after no one was bringing Yugi p*rn on VHS.
Yugi looks better with a nose, glad we got that upgrade.
Interesting to watch the series style shift as it goes away from being horror to being over the top cardgames and friendship (with blood!). The first picture of Mokuba is fucking Jarring. Also noticed that the nicer a character is, the less their teeth are defined.
Glad manga did not go as completely off the fucking the rails about Marik's face. I never got as far as seeing him back in the day because college occurred, but I remember seeing pictures and stuff and being like, "what in the Fuck happened to that dude, I think the house style has collapsed in on itself"
Things the author Really Likes: motorcycles, belts, SHOES, holy shit the shoes. These are some of the most lovingly rendered sneakers I've ever seen. All the detail on his characters goes straight to their feet and then it's stretched upward until it forms stiff peaks. Gently fold in 3000 years of trauma and bake face down in a crumb coat of scattered mythology. Remove when you roll two zeros.
Where the fuck am I going to put the extremely large omnibus volumes of this comic I purchased in order to balance out how much I would be reading for free on the internet. I should have grasped that a three in one edition would be Thick and yet somehow I was still :O when it arrived. Have I strategically purchased volumes that contain my favorite parts, maybe, what's it to you will i eventually get the whole thing because incomplete book series gnaw on my soul? yes
Wish the transition from "I've murdered several people in delightfully karmic ways" to "all you need is friendship in your heart and cards in your hand" Yami Yugi/Pharaoh had been discussed more/transitioned better. Buddy, where did you get this approved for television high horse? Please go back to strangling people with yo-yos or at least tell me why you stopped.
I still can't tell anything that looks like a big robotic monster apart from any other big robotic monster. My dude, I can't tell cars apart, all these monsters look the same.
Yami Yugi fascinated me way more in highschool? Maybe because it was still super early and the anime was like 'we need to torture you about his origins WeEkLy. Now I'm just like 'wait hold on, can we go back to Bakura and Marik for a minute, there's some extreme unpacking to do here?' Those two are paying so much more in baggage fees here my guy wow
Violently uninterested in any of the spinoff media
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bitchapalooza · 3 years
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More hetalia highschool AU, 🌟magic team🌟 edition :)
Under the cut bc it is long ❤️
Vladimir is that one kid obsessed with Twilight but only for the vampires; it was his first ever exposure to vampires thanks to his dad thinking Twilight was an appropriate book for a 11 year old. Team Edward going strong for five years, he'd proudly declare like it actually mattered. He tries his best to dress goth at school even though his uniform gets in the way. Fake ear piercings(his parents won't let him pierce them yet), over the top makeup, he's dyed the top half of his shoes black because his parents were concerned about his obsession with black and wouldn't buy him the black tennies he wanted— "mom look, these are marked down for back to school! Can I pleeeease get them???" "....may I know why the black ones specifically?" "They match the ever nothingness of my soul." "Yep! The white ones it is then!" "Mooooooooooom!"— Vladimir has been dubbed the cringy vampire kid of course.
Lukas is into pretty much anything concerning cryptids and magical creatures because they can't be proven to be fake or real, which intrigues him. He carries a book about mushrooms at all times and info dumps on pretty much anyone about identifying poisonous mushrooms and which mushrooms are safe to eat. His backpack is covered in buttons and pins to show off his interests. He keeps an amethyst in the front pocket of his backpack, reason unknown other than to just randomly pull it out and let Mikkel look at it. He's that kid that always wears his hoodie no matter the season, he never takes it off. Under his hoodie is always a crude worded t-shirt that the school would not approve of, much less his parents. He's relatively quiet and because he's quiet he's considered a weird kid.
Arthur can't decide if punk is his style or if goth is. Either way, his way of self expression at school in addition to the uniform is horrible. Checkered black/red shoes his grandma got him with his older brother's hand me down worn out greying socks—"can I PLEASE just have my own clothes???" "we have perfectly good clothes for you in the garage! I can fix them up to fit you better and everything!" "but I want cool NEW clothes!" "those are cool clothes and as far as the other kids know, they're also new. Now get your transformer backpack and get to the car. I put a new patch on it last night so that should hold it for the rest of the year."— Old Pierce the veil shirt, with holes chewed into the collar from his older brother Dillan, peeking out from under his white polo. A black and red choker to match his black and red slowly tearing apart too big flannel on top of a black pull over. A deep blue beanie, the hoodie of his pull over almost constantly on top when outside the school. He dyes a part of his hair a different color every month. He spikes his hair using too much gel and is convinced he looks good. He talks too much about bands and always gets Vlad and Lukas going on and on about fictional creatures he does not FULLY believe in himself. He does, however, believe in magic and loves Harry Potter, more specifically the Weaselys, to bits.
Natalya is a sophomore, a year behind the boys, and she just kinda pushed her way into the friend group until they eventually accepted her into it. They were the only three she knew who liked occult related topics. She's on the baseball team because she wanted an excuse to hit things with another thing and NOT get detention because of it. She wears the khaki uniform skirt and takes full advantage over being able to wear any kind of tights underneath; skull pattern, plain black, blood splatter pattern, fire pattern. Anything that makes her feel like a badass. She's always talking about antiques and forging weapons, more specifically knives. She has a whole collection of fidget toys but her favorite is this pea pod keychain her father gave her. She's always talking about how she'd like to be a medical examiner and to just prove that she's serious, she'll bring up a picture of a human model and point out the difference between a self inflicted fatal wound and a homicide. She puts up a charade of being able to see and talk to ghosts to freak out Alfred, her extended friend first met through Tolys.
They collectively believe they're cool and that other people know this. They're genuinely blind to the obvious snickers sent their way, being called losers and nerds. They're really knowm for like really pathetic things like; Natalya is Ivan's, tallest and most intimidating member of the wrestling team, weird younger sister by a year. Lukas is just the weird quiet kid that reads by the courtyard garden during lunch. Vladimir is not only the vampire goth kid but the kid who's parents believe the teachers are giving his son low grades on purpose and will yell at them for it. And Arthur is just. He's another Kirkland, immediately assumed to be a massive trouble maker because of his now graduated brother Alistair and one grade above him brother Dillan. Everyone loved his eldest brother Darick and sometimes compare him to Darick.
Compared to what others THINK they do, such as witch craft for some odd reason, the four of them do pretty typical teen activities. Like hang out at the mall. Do their honework together. Play video games and D&D when they have the chance. The boys do have sleepovers still as they have since meeting each other in middle school, Nat not really being a fan of sleeping where she doesn't live but comfortable enough to go to their houses and just chill for the day. They have become friends because of their related interests but thats not what they're ALL ABOUT.
Fun facts/stories about these losers I thought about while bored as fuck:
• Lukas, in his freshman year, went on a nature hike field trip with his lit class after reading Into The Wild. And he brought his mushroom book of course. They walked around, looking at the sights, talked about the book. Lukas just stops at one point, falling behind the class. He picks up a mushroom, goes to the teacher and is like "You see this? Its not poisonous." And straight up fucking eats it without warning. The teacher called an ambulance even though Lukas kept telling him he was fine and that that mushroom was 100% okay to eat raw, but for sure better off cooked. Lukas calmly shows the paramedics his book and they're like "yeah that actually was safe to eat, we don't need the book to confirm that, but um. Please don't ever pick something off the ground and eat it again. Just. Please don't do that, son." .....he did it again before leaving to go back to school but this time he didn't tell anyone.
• In elementary school, Natalya brought in a model of the human brain she asked her dad to borrow. He had to say yes because she was his only child genuinely interested, not bored of, his medical profession and he found it very cute and honoring. So she's at show and tell, its her turn right, and she silently goes up to the front of the class and pulls out the model brain. Teacher tries to step in because, hey, these are 6 year olds—AND WHY DOES THIS 6 YEAR OLD HAVE A PLASTIC BRAIN??? But Nat just shooshes her. In surprised shock, the teacher is just quiet as Nat begins to explain parts of the brain and their function— which was all wrong actually. She knew the words and everything but she didn't get the locations right. She sounded confident and smart and she was telling this to a bunch of 6 year olds so they believed her of course. End of the school day, her dad is having a hilarious conference with his youngest's teacher about the brain incident.
• Vladimir loves reading. He's loved it since he began to learn how, even if his dyslexia gives him grief along the way. So since he loves to read he'll always get excited and read ahead in class or in the public library reading club. One summer, the reading club was reading The Giver and it was getting really good. Vlad was loving the story, so much so that Vlad began to read ahead in his own time when he really wasn't supposed to be, the club was reading it together out loud and discussing it. Now he's read enough and worked hard enough to figure out how to help himself focus better and understand each word and sentence without having to reread it all multiple times over or get stuck. But sometimes the meaning and context to what he's reading doesn't ALWAYS process with the words as he's too focused on reading the words right and it passes right over his head. So Vlad is reading ahead and he's getting to the part where The Giver has given Jonas the memory of the sled again. And Vlad just sits there after reading that paragraph. He rereads it. And rereads it again. And then he leaves his book on his bed, goes to the the hall closet and takes out the ironing board. He grabs a plastic container to use as an ill attempt of a helmet and he just. Rockets down the staircase and hits the wall. He screams and cries and his parents rush in from the livingroom. When asked what happened he just says "I wanted to understand the sled scene better! Now I do and I feel really bad for Jonas!" He just couldn't quite grasp WHY the sled accident hurt, never had a broken bone nor sled afterall, and needed to find out. And that's how Vlad got his first broken arm at the age of 12.
• When Alfred and Matthew moved in with Arthur's family, Arthur didn't like it. He was a moody young teen but he was also just tired of the full house. His cousins were loud and nosey. He had to share a room with his four older brothers already and now with Matthew while Kathleen and Alfred got a room to themselves. Arthur thought this was so unfair. So his solution was to run away. He was 13, he needed a place to have some peace and quiet for once. So he texts Francis and Lukas, the only two of his friends living in his neighnorhood. Francis is not on board with helping him run away at first but then Lukas brings literally all his camping gear for Arthur's use and then Francis is on board because he had the feeling Arthur was going to get himself killed somehow. So as the elder one of the group he accompanied Arthur and Lukas out to the short stretch of woods behind the last street of their neighborhood, intending to go to the big clearing before hitting the roads leading to the airport and whatever else buildings. They're out there setting everything up together and they're done by like 4 pm. They sit down and talk, munch on oreos and other snacks Arthur deemed as essential survival foods. Then Francis looks at his cell and remarks "wow its already 6! Ah, Lukas, we should get home. Afterall, neither of us ran away so we still have supper to eat. Come on Lukas, let's go before our parents come looking for us." They exchange goodbyes, Francis trying his best to hide his cocky smirk. So Lukas and Francis start walking off, Arthur crawls into the tent and eats half a cookie before frowning and feeling too alone. He didn't expect to feel alone because all he wanted was to BE ALONE. Before he knows it, he's running out of the tent yelling after his friends to stop and wait up. "Oh whats wrong, Arthur? I thought you wanted to run away." "I— I forgot I hadn't fed my rabbit is all! I'll run away tomorrow! I'm not... Feeling lonely if.. If that's what you think...." Arthur did not run away the next day. Buuuuuut the three plus Vlad made a tree house together in the Kirkland backyard that they still use today!
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solitaria-fantasma · 3 years
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Um for the Super Ghost AU I am just imagining that The Question managed to figure out basically everything about Gawain and the Mystery Skulls, but instead of it being his paranoia getting to him it's because he accidentally learned Gawain was a ghost, wanted to learn why he's a ghost and then he was going down the rabbit hole and by the time he climbed out of it he's just wondering what is Gawain's life, unlife, whatever and the life of his brother. Just, this came to me and refused to leave.
((*cracks knuckles*))
Question hadn't seen sunlight for nearly six days, and it had finally paid off.
He leaned over his hands on the edge of the desk, staring at the pin board before him. It was crisscrossed with color coded strands of yarn, and little push pins that held up photographs, newspaper and magazine clippings, and printed Internet screenshots. It wasn't the most complicated web he'd ever built, but it tied up neatly, and that was enough. Not every mystery had a a million twists to unwind.
The trail started in London, England, and stretched all the way across the Atlantic to a tiny town in Texas, USA, barely large enough to be a speck on a map. He had birth records, school enrollment records, science fair awards, promotions, Visa applications, mortgages, home appliance purchases, swing dance trophies, company picnic photos, a missing person's report, and an obituary, all leading to a giant question mark scribbled over a photo of a young blond man, with the word 'whereabouts?' written beneath it.
This photo connected to the next item in the chain with a quick arrow of blue, and another long, arching arrow connected a birth record from earlier in this leg to the same thing - a newspaper article from that small Texas town, talking about the mysterious case of a young boy with amnesia being found on the steps of a local restaurant. There was an article about the boy's adoption just a few months later, and then another article congratulating three local kids and their dog for solving a small time mystery.
The chain ran through several articles like this one, and the kids grew older as their mysteries evolved from misplaced mail and lost pets to package theft, poltergeist activity, and cryptid sightings. More and more, the articles talked about ghosts, creatures of urban legend, and even sightings of demons and occult activity. Around 2008, the newspaper articles became printed blog posts, and seemed to be written by the kids themselves.
Question laughed quietly to himself. Kids after his own paranoid heart, all three.
The articles came to an abrupt halt in 2014, with a missing persons report for the amnesiac boy (now an adult), and a series of articles about a groundbreaking prosthetic limb, developed by a genius young man who tested his prototype on himself after tragically loosing his own arm. There were a few more articles about the prosthetic, and a few photos to go along with them that showed the blond man from previous articles, and then there were a few clippings of local tabloids from a truck driver who swore he'd been carjacked by 'a flaming skeleton with great fashion sense'.
There was silence for a month or two, and then concurrent newspaper articles and blog posts about the miraculous return of one Lewis Pepper, thought to be dead from the same tragic caving accident that cost his best friend his arm. The blog posts about the supernatural returned, and the prosthesis research seemed to slow down. Coincidentally, a young man named 'Merlin Knight' with an eerily familiar face was hired at the local auto shop.
Question wondered if the entire town was playing dumb, or just stupid. The only real change was the clothing, and that long blond hair being braided.
This employment record connected all the way back to the obituary from the first leg of the chain, and proceeded on to connect with screenshots from a social media account of a robotic body, and the building of what would be, within a few month's time, the town's own local hero.
Question breathed out through his nose. A local hero who would go on to help save the world, and found the Justice League itself. Had that been part of the plan?
The web wrapped itself up quickly from there. Supernatural skills and abilities not possible by modern science, knowledge of other realms and creatures only known to mythology, and the tiny little clues he'd been hoarding and observing for a full year all pointed to the same conclusion. It wasn't as fantastical as it sounded, in all honesty, though Green Arrow had looked at him stranger than usual when he'd first said his conclusion out loud.
There were legitimate aliens, sorcerers, and demons in this reality - why not ghosts, too?
There was one final piece missing from the web, however, and he was out of clues to tie in. There was a near twenty year gap between the last known sighting of Gawain Kingsmen, and the appearance of 'Merlin Knight'. What had the man been doing for all that time? There had been no sightings of anyone even remotely matching the appearance of Gawain or 'Merlin' anywhere in that time, and without even the slightest whisper of a rumor on an Internet forum or library archive, there wasn't much more he could do to find out.
Question straightened up from the desk, and rolled his shoulders to try and stretch them out. There was no way around it.
He was going to have to get more...direct from here on out.
.......
"What does a dead man do for twenty years?" Gawain froze with a potato wedge half-raised to his shoulder at the question, and Bran - unwilling to wait for her snack - leaned her head down to snatch it up anyway. Gawain turned his yellow LED eyes over to Question, who had planted himself in the chair across the table without so much of a 'hello', and tilted his head.
"...I'm sorry," He apologized. "But I'm not sure I know what you mean."
"I know you do." Question leaned one elbow on the table. Bran nudged Gawain's still-raised hand, hoping for more potatoes, and the hero absently picked up another wedge to feed to her. "I know most people believe the 'advanced AI' cover story, but I'm not most people. I know you're a ghost possessing an armored suit like that old anime." The potato wedge vanished, and Question wondered if the little ghost was actually eating it, or just storing it for later.
That was a mystery for another time, regardless.
Gawain had turned to face him fully, now, and his two other ghostly companions were now peeking out of hiding from behind his shoulders. They weren't hostile, but their stares were, nonetheless, intense, and Question smiled behind his mask. He knew he had their full attention, now.
"How did you find out?" Gawain asked, keeping his voice low.
"I saw you from the ground in that fight with Mr. Sorcerer Superior, Magnus Creed." Question replied. "You ran into that warding slip like a bird into a clean window. A robot wouldn't have been stopped by mere paper and superstition." Gawain tilted his head slightly to one side.
"Some superstitions hurt." He argued, just the slightest bit defensive. "...what was your question, again?"
"What does a dead man do for twenty years?" Question asked. "There's a two decade gap between your presumed death and your reappearance. You could stand to work on that secret identity, by the way." He advised. "Someone's going to notice your resemblance to a dead guy from twenty years ago, if you ever let down your hair." Gawain's LED eyes narrowed, and one of the spirits - Chopper, the one with the upright spines - hissed in response.
Vixen walked by with John Stewart at her side, and both Chopper and Gawain made a visible effort to drop any outward signs of irritation. Question remained where he was. People were used to seeing him tense and suspicious, by now. It wouldn't raise a single eyebrow.
"...I was lost." Gawain spoke up quietly once Vixen and John had passed out of earshot. "I woke up in the middle of an unfamiliar forest, and I just couldn't get out. Not for a while."
"You were lost in a forest for twenty years?" Even Question sounded skeptical. "I've seen what you're capable of. You should have been able to handle a little thing like being lost."
"It was ten years," Gawain retorted sharply. Bran raided his plate for the remaining potato wedges. "And I wasn't just...born being able to do that stuff. I had to grow into it. I had to learn." A strange gust of air blew past the table, scattering someone's forgotten paper plate and napkin to the floor, before Gawain unclenched his fists, and visibly calmed down. Question still didn't move.
"Death...does things to you." Gawain lowered his voice again. "To your mind. You can't think straight for...a long time - and that's if you're lucky." He lowered his hands to the table, and Bran automatically wound herself around one arm with a pleased sound. "I found my way out of the forest after ten yes, and then I went...home. To Tempo."
"Your parents had moved away by then." Question knew. He knew how the story of the living family had played out, from there. "Your brother was living with your uncle, and your friends were off at college." Gawain's shoulders drooped, and the third spirit - Griflet, if he remembered right - patted at the side of his helmet sympathetically. Chopper was still glaring at him.
"They had." Gawain made no effort to hide the disappointment in his voice. "I guess I couldn't fault them for not wanting to stay in town after all they went through, but back then, I didn't know it had been ten years. It only felt like a few days, to me."
"That must have been difficult." Question said, and he meant it. Sympathy wasn't really his thing, but Gawain was being cooperative, so it was the least he could do. "And the other ten?"
"I was hiding." Gawain laughed humorlessly. "I somehow convinced myself that my family-...that my brother, and my uncle, would be afraid of me, if they saw me like that, and I just...never came forward." He shrugged. "I just sort of watched, and listened, and followed them for another ten years, and I thought that was pretty good, you know?
"I couldn't interact with them, sure, but at least I could still see them. It was...better than nothing." The hero fell silent, for a few moments, and then looked Question in the eye. Or...as close as he could get. The featureless mask tended to throw off people's frame of reference for facial features. "What are you going to do now?"
"Absolutely nothing." Question casually leaned back in his own chair. "I've already put the pieces together. This was just the last piece I needed to finish the story." He stood up, and pushed the chair in under the table. "This time, I just wanted to satisfy my own curiosity." Gawain seemed surprised, and remained sitting as Question walked out of the cafeteria.
He could feel four pairs of eyes burning into his back, but for once, being watched didn't bother him. Curiosity killed the cat, they said, but satisfaction brought it back, and Question was very much satisfied with this answer.
Now, he could focus on more important matters...like the long-ignored connection between Girl Scout cookie sales and the appearance of crop circles in Midwest America.
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hlcreators · 4 years
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The Murmur of Yearning (93k)
Four years ago, Harry Styles was forced into a marriage of convenience to enrich and ally both his and his promised's families. The sudden, and slightly suspicious, death of the Marquess of Haxshire, however, brings great disturbance to Crescentfield Hall and, as his late's husband's closest male relative, Harry unexpectedly finds himself the head of a family he never felt he belonged to. Between a meddling distant cousin hellbent on inserting himself in Harry’s life, his wicked and mistrustful mother-in-law and his late husband’s advisors refusing to help or take him seriously, Harry struggles in the fight to keep what he’s earned and make the Estate finally feel like home.
Luckily, he doesn’t stand completely alone and finds himself an unlikely ally in Mr Tomlinson, the elusive Land Stewart who has been taking care of the property in the shadows for years. Louis Tomlinson is caring, patient, and unlike everyone else, he doesn’t seem to think Harry committed a murder.
‘Sup (6.7k)
Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results.
Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him.
ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.
Tired Tired Sea (113k)
As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.
The Blood of Words (33.7k)
Louis Tomlinson hasn’t sworn off relationships per se. He just doesn’t think he’s quite ready for one yet, despite his therapist’s encouragements. He’s comfortable in his position as editor for Styles Publishing and he’s happy to focus on his career while he gives himself more time to heal.
Enter his CEO’s brother, a boxer with a heart of gold who is determined to carve himself a space in Louis’ life and, more importantly, his heart.
Peace In Your Arms (1.5k)
The happily ever after ... Or a series of TEC codas 
the dead things we carry (25k)
September ‘49 He hasn’t seen him since that day in France, that horrible muddy day where for one terrifyingly long second, Louis really thought he was going to die. He winces with the phantom pain, the hand not holding his cane going to his stomach automatically, remembering the franticness, the tenderness, of Harry’s hands while Louis was bleeding out.
This is the man who saved Louis’ life.
For one second, Louis fears Harry won’t recognise him, but his eyes widen when he turns to his left and they meet Louis’. He takes a step forward, reaching for him with a shaky hand before stopping himself.
“Louis,’ Harry says with a shudder and Louis doesn’t think his name has ever carried more weight.
This is the only man Louis ever thought about kissing for real.
“Oh,” Mrs. Padley says, clearly taken aback. “You two know each other?”
There are some things people never fully come home from. Until, one day, if they’re lucky, home comes to them.
Things Gone Cold (24k)
"your heart is warm for things gone cold.”— Sophocles, Antigone
With his soulmate’s thoughts about him written on his skin and the world’s eyes trailing his every movement, Harry Styles is having a bit of a rough time releasing his second album in peace. And that’s not even counting the breakup. Or the car crash.
Through Eerie Chaos (102k)
For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.
The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.
Sleep It Off (844)
I've felt better ! Hello 2017 !!
What do you mean he’s coming? (15k)
When Harry accepted to be his sister’s Maid of Honour, despite how non-traditional of a choice he was, he didn’t think writing a speech for the wedding reception would be this hard. Now, not only does he have less than two weeks left to find something moving and inspirational to say, but Gemma just confided in him that her old childhood best friend is going to be in attendance. The one who moved to LA and they haven’t seen in fifteen years because he was too busy becoming an Academy Awards winner. But hey, no pressure. It’s just Louis Fucking Tomlinson.
Harry is screwed.
a fully armed battalion (to remind you of my love) (5.6k)
“He was flirting with you by the way,” Niall says casually once he’s finished saying goodbye to Louis and he’s joined Harry outside.
“No he wasn’t,” Harry replies automatically, feeling his heart clench at the thought. Was he?
Niall simply raises a mocking eyebrow in response before wrapping his scarf twice around his neck.
“Not that it matters!” Harry says quickly, eyes widening. “I wouldn’t care even if he did because he’s awful and the worst.”
Everyone at Hogwarts knows that Professor Styles and Professor Tomlinson absolutely despise each other. It's too bad that they're in love.
Coax the Cold (86k)
England, 1897.
English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.
All These Lights (34.8k)
“People vote for alphas because they’re strong and they’re not only beautiful but also mesmerizing. They make you want to give them all of your attention, make you want to beg for some of theirs back. They’re shiny, oozing sex appeal and a commanding presence, and people always want more and more. Omegas are enticing too for sure, but it’s not the same. It makes people uncomfortable. It doesn’t make them want to root for you.”
the canon fic where Harry is an omega and dreams come with a price.
wash him deep where the tides are turning (3.7k)
"When Harry finally tells Louis about his family’s curse and the true love spell that broke it, they’ve been dating for seven months, nineteen days and about twelve hours and Louis’ cock is buried deep inside his arse."
Part two of a practical magic au.
a long way down (to the bottom of the river) (24k)
“ Most people would call Harry silly for believing in curses. Childish would also be a probable insult thrown his way. In their little town full of little people, Harry’s whimsical nature and beliefs mean that he’s subjected to frequent judgemental looks and whispers. It doesn’t usually bother him. Most people don’t know about the magic thrumming through his veins or about how powerful words can truly be. Most people don’t carry around their ancestors grief like a burden. They don’t have to pay for deeds hundreds of years old like Harry and his family have. They get to love freely without fear.
Harry and his kin aren’t so lucky.”
a practical magic au in which Harry and his sister accidentally kill her abusive boyfriend with magic and Louis is the D.I working the case.
loose lips sink ship all the damn time (not this time) (39k)
“Louis Tomlinson is gay,” Fiona announces and she sounds calm at least. “That’s not a scandal,” Nick replies automatically even though he feels slightly sick. He needs to call Louis back. Now. “No,” Fiona agrees quickly. “But his underage gay sex tape is.” The one where Louis is outed via a sex tape he made before the X-Factor and Nick can't resist flying to America to give him a shoulder to cry on. Told through flashbacks, this is a story of getting together and getting back together.
all that i’ll ever need is in your eyes (4.2k)
Louis has known he's going to marry Harry Styles since he was eighteen years old. Five years later, he has the perfect proposal planned. Too bad he can't help blurting it out while they're detained at the mall.
hi hater, kiss kiss (3.8k)
Nick has had a crush on Louis Tomlinson ever since he first saw him perform on the x-factor. Almost four years later, he's finally accepted that their ongoing, unstoppable feud is the only thing the two of them will ever share. One game of Call or Delete with Niall Horan, however, starts to shake this belief.
your bones illuminate (5.4k)
High School AU Snapshots of Harry and Louis' relationship through their last year of sixth form. Warning: There is no plot. Only fluff.
the last people standing (at the end of the night) (7.4k)
Sequel to the greatest pretenders (in the cold morning light)
A year after his undercover assignment ended, Louis should finally feel at peace. With Cowell & Co finally dead or behind bars, his life is more simple than ever. It's too bad his feelings can't be buried as deep as the people he's lost.
An undercover cops AU
you think fashion is your friend, my friend (fashion is danger) (27k)
"Louis has one rule, and one rule only, that he simply refuses to break. He forbids himself to be attracted to anyone he might work with. No wanking to models who might wear his clothes! It’s hardly fair, considering he spends 95% of his time working with the most attractive men on the planet, but his career is more important. Besides, in Louis’ experience, it always leads to disaster. Harry Styles makes respecting the rule really damn hard though and Louis is not quite sure why."
the one where Louis is a famous British designer and Harry is the clumsy, most likely straight model that makes his heart race.
the greatest pretenders (in the cold morning light) (41.5k)
undercover cops/the departed au
Louis and Nick are on two different sides of the law and mobster Simon Cowell is not the only person they have in common. The one where Louis is an undercover cop and Harry is the court-ordered shrink who refuses to prescribe him Valium.
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jasminesilk · 3 years
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Simblr Tag
Thank you for the tag @ashubii! I always love talking sims.
Rate in order favorite to least favorite, Sims 1, Sims 2, Sims 3, Sims 4: TS4, TS2, TS1, TS3. I know, I know! How dare I rate TS3 so low but hear me out - I was in late high school/university when TS3 was being released and between my social life and schoolwork I just didn't have time or money for the sims. I would still play TS2 on my family computer back home during summer break to get my sims fix lol. TS2 was my favorite for a long, long time but aesthetically speaking TS4 is far superior to any of the past iterations. I do think nothing will ever beat TS2 for lore though, and as one of my favorite simstubers says: I am a whore for lore!
Favorite expansion: TS1 was Makin' Magic, TS2 was Pets, Nightlife, and University, and TS4 is Seasons, City Living, and Cottage Living.
Small pets or horses: ...unicorns please. And fairies.
Favorite active career: None of them are that great imo. The detective one especially sucks. I think the scientist one is the most interesting to actually playthrough, but the doctor career does unlock some neat interactions for your sims.
Favorite LTW/Aspiration: The Soulmate Aspiration ofc. I'm such a pro at that one now that I can complete it in like two sim days. Although I do also love most of the Nature and Logic ones, and I have a special soft spot for the Archaeologist aspiration that came with Jungle Adventure as I studied anthropology and archaeology at uni.
Whims, wishes or wants and fears: The wants and fears system was way better for gameplay imo. Whims and wishes are cool but they're just so bogged down by ones like "buy a bee box" or "buy a dishwasher" that the individuality of your sim gets lost in those pack-specific whims. I would love for the sims team to actually update whims to be more strongly tied to your sims traits and aspiration so that whim-based gameplay didn't feel so hollow.
Favorite occult: TS4 Vampires. They're easily the most fleshed out and if it weren't for all the "fly here as bat" glitches I would STILL be playing with my vampire sims. I wanted to love spellcasters and mermaids but the gameplay with them is just so basic... I get bored playing with them and it breaks my heart as I love occults in the sims.
Cowplants, Bonehilda or Social Bunny: TRAGIC CLOWN.
Favorite non-PC Sims game: URBZ (me too @ashubii)! I can't even tell you how many hours I logged in that game on my old XBOX lmao. My poor brother hated me for it.
Favorite spin off game: Sims Medieval! I would argue it's better than TS3 but I know that's probably an unpopular opinion haha.
How do you pick the names for your Sims: By staring off into the distance 🤪🤪 I wish I were kidding. Naming sims is really important to me and I often try to make it clever or funny in some way. I'll spend hours researching names, saving them to lists, and looking for inspiration from my real life. I love names.
Create a spouse or find them in game (townies): This really depends on if I'm just playing the game or trying to create a story. I love to give EA townies little makeovers and have my sims marry them though because I just find it interesting to see how their genetics mix!
Do you prefer following storytelling simblrs or gameplay simblrs: Both! I really admire storytelling simblrs for their dedication to their craft, but sometimes silly sims gameplay screenshots are all I need to have a good time here on simblr. I love simblrs that focus solely on renders and edits too - the sheer talent and creativity in this community is so incredible.
What year did you join simblr: I have been a lurker for many years, but started a simblr myself in 2020.
Again I was tagged in this a few days ago now so I tag anyone who hasn't answered these yet! I love to see everyone's opinions on the sims so let me know if you do~ xoxo
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seraphjewel · 4 years
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Little Hope Thoughts: The Clarkes
This post will contain spoilers for Little Hope. Out of courtesy, I am going to put everything under a cut.
I want to put out two disclaimers before I get too far into this. The first is that this is only my interpretation of the story and the characters. I'm not claiming that this is correct or even the only way the events of Little Hope can be understood. Second, I am not familiar with magical practices or pagan beliefs. Again, I'm only basing all of my interpretations on what we're presented within the confines of this game.
I want to first focus on the Clarke family, and specifically the way that they died in the fire. There are five magical elements and each one correlates to a death. The element of earth is represented in the father James, who was crushed to death by the roof falling on him. The element of water is represented in the mother Anne, who died from smoke inhalation while in the bathroom preparing to take a bath. The element of air is represented in the older sister Tanya, whose scarf was caught on the balcony when she tried to jump thus leaving her hanging in the air. The element of fire is represented by the younger sister Megan, who was burned alive. The element of metal is represented by the brother Dennis, who is impaled on metal spikes.
I acknowledge that being hung is only one of two possible ways that Tanya can die. She can also die if she goes back inside the house and is burnt, which does ruin the theory of each Clarke family death correlating with a magical element. But I personally find that death really ridiculous-- why would you go back inside a burning house-- and am going to stick with her hanging death.
We can look at this a step farther with the trophies the player receives when saving each of them. Saving John earns you the “Heavy Burden” trophy, which again ties into the connection with earth. Saving Angela earns you the “We Are of Water” trophy which is probably the most obvious of them. Taylor's trophy is called “Free Spirit” and to me that links her to air. Daniel's trophy is called “Unbroken” which can refer to how metal is strong and difficult to break. Admittedly Mary's trophy, “Forgiveness”, doesn't tie into fire in any obvious way. But when I thought about it more I remembered that sacrifices were made by fire to seek forgiveness of sin.
You may be wondering what any of this has to do with anything. If you collect all of the clues you'll learn that Anthony had taken an interest in the occult and had a book on pagan beliefs with him the night he crashed his bus. You'll also learn that Reverend Leonard Carson (the reverend in the 70's) had an interest in the occult and was charged with teaching the youth. It isn't difficult to conclude that Anthony made the same connection of the deaths of his family that I just did, linking each one to a magical element. One clue points you to a newspaper where they determine it was a child's doll that started the fire. According to the pagan book Anthony was reading before the crash, poppets/dolls were believed to be linked to the person they were fashioned after-- sort of like voodoo dolls. Anthony could have believed that it was because the doll burnt that his younger sister Megan died in the fire.
But wait, there's even more to this! The player learns that whether the characters live or die isn't actually the goal in the story. The idea is to “save” them, and the main four characters (John, Angela, Daniel, Taylor) are saved when they confront their demons and tell the others to leave them behind. Since these four characters exist only in Anthony's mind, we have to then assume he was worried they were all damned and that through the game the player is making decisions to change the characters' attitudes and personality. In the short time we have with the Clarke family, we see that three of the four characters exhibit some behavior that at the time would've been considered sinful or influenced by the Devil. The father was an alcoholic, the sister was into hippy stuff and had some magical items, and the brother was into rock and roll and was in a band. I couldn't see any specific behavior of the mother that would've been considered sinful, which is why I think Angela was “saved” by her being supportive and her and John fighting their demons together at the end. Also her name, Angela, includes the word “angel” which emphasizes Anthony’s perception of her being more innocent than others in his family.
This still leaves saving Mary and Andrew. The way you “save” Mary is exposing Reverend Carver (the reverend in the 17th century) as a practitioner of the occult and getting him taken away. I have a lot of thoughts about Mary/Megan that I'm going to save for another post, but I'll try to condense it a little here. In the 70's we see all the characters (except for Anthony) yelling at her, pushing her away, treating her like a nuisance, or ignoring her. Megan has a piece of dialogue where she says “they blame me for everything”. I can see Anthony perceiving the newspaper pointing at the child's toy as the cause of the fire as yet another person blaming Megan for something. So putting the blame on anyone else would be breaking that cycle.
Andrew was “saved” in my play-through as well, though as of this moment I don't know if it was because I saved Mary or because Vince had Anthony arrested. I know that saving the other four doesn't matter since I hadn't managed to save Taylor in that play-through, which leaves Mary's ending and Vince's ending as the only factors. The interpretation of “saving” him will change depending on which of those factors actually played into his salvation. If he was saved by helping Megan, to me that means he carried the most guilt over her death. In his mind she was probably an innocent child with no perceived sinful influence. Also, he was her older brother and would feel that responsibility to care and look out for her. Not to mention the poppet correlation I mentioned earlier. When you do save Mary and she thanks you, his response is: “But I didn't save you.” You can interpret this literally, as in he was unable to save her in the burning house; you could also interpret this metaphorically, as in he wasn't able to save her from the corrupt reverend. It feels like that moment is him acknowledging this is wishful thinking on his part. I originally interpreted “saving” him by getting him arrested. Anthony has been living with the guilt and trauma of the fire for about forty years and it's possible that while he was judged innocent in the 70's, he never fully accepted that and still blamed himself. When he was arrested in my play-through, he seemed at peace with it. In that way “saving” him is giving him peace about the role he believes he played in his family's deaths, by having it acknowledged and punished, something he no doubt believes is long overdue.
There’s also the achievement of “save Andrew from himself” that you earn if the four characters are killed. Since I earned this by accusing Mary of witchcraft and having the demons kill everyone, I can’t say for sure the factor involved. Was Andrew saved because all of these visions were killed at the house, or would he have been saved no matter how the four were killed? Either way, it’s clear to me that letting the characters die saves him from their ghosts, the parts of them he hasn’t let go of for all these years. He was also arrested in my ending, so he could have been saved from himself in that any reaction to losing his family again was taken out of his hands.
Since this game is focusing on a person's salvation by confronting their demons, either option is valid.
I have more thoughts on other aspects of the game but I wanted to start with this.
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ciriceart · 3 years
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OC profiles: the Lawson family
From the now-defunct semi-interactive comic/creative writing projects, “Hunger, Nevada”, “Far From Any Road”, and “Saudade”.
The plot of these three stories cover topics and conflicts such as learning to relate to those around you, breaking toxic cycles, smalltown stagnation and the isolation of close-knit communities, and metaphorical (sometimes literal) body horror monsters that slowly poison towns and families. I wrote these stories from the ages of 14 to 21, and they're all very much a reflection of myself and my perspectives/outlook at those times. I still go back and revisit certain areas, but can't see myself rewriting them in full any time soon. I feel like that would be a disservice to my past self - I used these to sort out and explore my own feelings and hangups, and they served their purpose, but I still draw and talk about the boys more often than I expected I would when I drew my first doodle of Ellis and Lawrence in 8th grade detention. This post is just an infodump about the family of the main characters. I'm not getting into plot details just yet. Though it is worth noting, this was at the height of my Silent Hill hyperfixation, and Ellis and Lawrence began life as the protags of my imaginary Silent Hill fangame for which I made an entire gamefaqs walkthrough because I did not know how to write or draw too well. That doesn't really matter too much now, I just think it's fun.
The Lawson family consists of Francis (or Frank) and Amalia Lawson, and their two sons, Ellis and Lawrence.
Frank is a large man, about 6’3 with green eyes, short auburn hair,  and a beard. His skin is somewhat pale but has a minor farmer’s tan from working outdoors, and there’s a spatter of freckles across his entire face. He sometimes wears rectangular half-frame glasses and uses a walking stick.
Amalia is about 5’4 and stocky, with dark brown, almost black hair cut in the patented Mom Bob(tm) with bangs and dark eyes. Her face is somewhat oblong with round, soft features and her skin is a warm mid-to-light brown.
Ellis ranges in age from 17 to 26 across plots. His facial structure favors his father. He’s about 5’10,  has very light brown skin, freckles on his face, arms, chest and shoulders, dark eyes and auburn hair. As a teenager, his hair reaches to about his jaw with an off-center part, and he keeps it short and parted on the side as he gets older. He usually at least attempts to comb his hair back but half of it just falls back in front of his face anyway. Sometimes sports various non-serious injuries such as scratches and bruises. He’s rough-and-tumble.
As a teen, most of his outfits consist of torn up jeans, skater shoes, and a plethora of graphic or band tees. Sometimes an old flannel stolen from dad, or black canvas jacket. As an adult, he wears mostly intact but faded black work pants, black or brown work boots, a plain T-shirt and often an unbuttoned overshirt with either short sleeves or the sleeves rolled up.
Lawrence also ranges in age across stories, from 9 to 17. His facial structure favors his mother. He has pale skin, freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, green eyes, and auburn hair in a short, choppy buzzcut that he later grows out to reach past his shoulders as he gets into his teens. As a child, he’s very short and scrappy, and then becomes gangly and awkward as a teenager.
As a child, his wardrobe is typically all childish graphic tees and cargo shorts or jeans, all picked out by his parents. As he gets older, he becomes introverted and shy, always covering himself up in an absurd number of layers – he's often seen wearing a short-sleeved shirt with long sleeves underneath, either a flannel or sweater, and a massively oversized forest green jacket with a red fleece collar. He usually sticks to plain, slightly baggy jeans and sneakers.
--
Frank and Amalia married in their mid to late 20’s and moved to Frank’s hometown of Ansley, [state redacted].
Frank works in a hardware store and as a repairman. Some years ago, Frank suffered a spinal injury, resulting in chronic pain and his use of a walking stick. He still works at the hardware store and takes repair jobs, though he’s unable to work as often or for as long as he used to.
Ellis drops out of high school in the second quarter of 11th grade to work full-time at the hardware store and begins picking up smaller repair jobs around town. Lawrence, being much younger, is not employed but occasionally does smaller tasks such as sweeping up or organizing shelves after closing hours, or tagging along with his brother or dad on repair jobs to help where he can.
Amalia works at a packing and shipping facility in the city. She works overnight, six days a week with Mondays off. She’s usually home about an hour before her sons have to get up for school. Amalia’s pack a day smoking habit and Frank’s temper are the subjects of most conflicts, but they never progress past passive aggressive remarks or heated discussions. The family occasionally relies on financial help from a man named Mike, whose family has been friends with Frank’s for several years, to make ends meet. He’s often the reason that their heat and water stay on.
The Lawsons are a practicing family of Amicists. They regularly attend service at The First Church of the Shoal United in the next town over. More on Amicism at a later date.
Ellis has a lot of pent up resentment toward authority figures and “grown-ups” in general, even into his own adulthood, due to Backstory Reasons I won’t get into here.
James, Marie, Robin, and Brian are Ellis’ friends from high school. They mostly sit around smoking pot and watching bad movies, sneak out to drink at the park after curfew, and attempt to skate in vacant parking lots.
James was held back in middle school and is one or two years older than the rest of the group. Most parents in town still call him Jimmy and think he’s a very nice boy. If asked to describe him, his long line of ex-girlfriends would say “he’s so nice, but GOD he’s so dumb.” Marie was closer to Robin and James than she was to Ellis, so they didn’t hang out outside of the group at all. She thought Ellis was kinda weird, but not a “bad weird” so she never mentioned it or complained. Robin is that sort of midwestern emo girl in everyone’s math class who’s an artist, but all she draws is semi realistic eyes with elaborate eyeliner in her English notes. She regularly gets into arguments with Ellis and James on what genre different bands count as. Brian is the obvious stoner friend who would be kinda chill to hang out with if he weren’t so loud and annoying about how his parents totally don’t even care and just like, totally let him do whatever he wants.
Dropping out of high school to work a fulltime job, having no interest in college, minimal relationship experience, and staying in such a small and rural town leads to Ellis becoming socially isolated and unable to fully relate with people his own age. He slowly falls out of touch with his friends and people he knew from school, preferring surface level interactions with older coworkers, relatives and friends of the family.
Lawrence, as a result of his older brother’s attempt at parenting while Frank and Amalia are working, learns to be untrusting and uncooperative as well. He picks up a smoking habit by age 14, often stealing them from Ellis or from their mom's purse when she’s home, and sneaks out of his and Ellis’ shared bedroom through the window at night.
Lawrence is a nice kid, but struggles to make friends. Throughout all of middle school and into high school, he only manages to befriend two others named Catherine and Donnie.
Donnie is Brian’s little brother. He and Lawrence aren’t actually friends, but they tend to tag along when Ellis and Brian hang out at each other’s houses. Catherine has known Lawrence since they were in third grade, but they never hung out until they got put in the same advanced math class in middle school.
As he gets older, Lawrence begins to neglect his few friendships and social life in favor of fiction; most notably stories and unfiction focusing on the occult and supernatural, as well as a video game series called Sprout Friends, a puzzle game involving farming and anthropomorphic fruits and vegetables. If he isn’t hiding out on the rooftop of the house at night, he’s locked in the bedroom playing one of multiple Sprout Friends titles, or hunting for strange occurrences around town during the night.
--
Fun fact: Ellis' middle name is Layne, and Lawrence's middle name is Elijah. I thought it would be cute if their middle names had the same first letters as each other's firsts.
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spookyc · 4 years
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I sure do!!
Well then, I shall divulge.
So, in my talentswap Kiyo is the protagonist as he is the ultimate detective. Originally this was just because I thought it fit but I definitely have more of a definite reason as to why I chose him for the ultimate detective. So a big thing I wanna do with this au, is to give more of the unpopular characters a spotlight, this can be seen with the main central group of the game, Kiyo as the ultimate detective, Tenko as the ultimate astronaut, and Angie as the ultimate child caretaker/assassin. (Which, yeah, It's kinda funny how these three ended up being the main trio considering what happened with them in canon) And when I played v3 I always thought Kiyo was super interesting, not only his talent but also his entire personality. It was so unlike what you would expect from the typical dr cast, I mean the creepy guy of the cast isn't the main antagonist? It was so different and it drew me towards his character, and I even indulged in a few of his free times which were always super fun just because I learned something new with each one.
And then, well, chapter 3 happened. I don't believe I have to explain what happened with that. I remember being kinda bummed out, I mean, the creepy weirdo just ended up being a creepy weirdo, a creepy weirdo who was abused by his shitty sister, but a creepy weirdo nonetheless. Didn't help that I have a brother that I'm decently close with; the entire thing just made me very uncomfortable. So I figured it would be super interesting to go through a story with Kiyo's lenses, to understand why he believes the things that he does and to give him a second chance, in a way.
Also when I really sat down and thought about it, it made a lot of sense to me. Like, in this au I want to keep their backstories intact, (for the most part) and I also wanna keep the fact that they were originally pursuing their canon talents until an event happens that changes their mind. So originally Kiyo was still gonna go for the anthropolgy route, but on one of his vacations, he happened upon a murder case. In the beginning he planned to just observe how the scene would play out, but because he's so attuned with people, he ends up finding out the killer and has him arrested. After this he becomes fascinated with criminals, about their ideologies, their psychology, the history behind past criminals. And so he then redirects his path towards that of a detective, perhaps partially out of a sense of justice, but mainly out of a morbid curiosity to see, "how far the depths of humanity can go."
I also noticed how in the canon story Kiyo often likes to observe others and sorta likes to stay neutral on most topics and I feel this would really benefit him as a detective. But yeah! That's essentially the reason I decided to make him the ultimate detective but let's dive into more of his background and how he grows throughout the story.
So, let's just go ahead and get this out the way. The sister issue. Now, as I stated before, I have a brother I'm close with myself so the entire incestuous relationship with Kiyo and his sister makes me deeply uncomfortable. So I'm sorta divided on two options. 1. I could eradicate sister from Kiyo's story completely and pretend she never existed. Or 2. I keep sister but simply change the form of abuse she inflicts on Kiyo. I'm leaning more towards the second option as this way I'm not just neglecting the abuse Kiyo went through, but I also don't have to make myself uncomfortable by acknowledging the incest stuff.
Anyway! Moving on to the more exciting stuff. So, I still want to have Kiyo involved with the occult, or at least he used to be. See, possibly a year or two ago, (and possibly in regards to sister's death but I'm undecided on that) Kiyo performs a ritual that goes horribly wrong. And the result of this ritual enables Kiyo to see and hear the spirits of the departed. And while at first it was intriguing, it soon became annoying at best and mentally draining at worst. It's simply a fact of life he has to deal with, and due to this power he can see and hear the ghosts of his dead classmates throughout the story. Which is both a blessing and a curse.
Now, as for his development throughout the story, here's what I'm thinking. Now, Kiyo doesn't really have many confidence issues, he's proud in his line of work and he's unapologetic about his beliefs and such. And I wouldn't really wanna repeat Shuichi's storyline anyway. So, for this au, I think Kiyo's arc throughout the game will be learning to trust and gain acceptance amongst people he loves. Rather than the twisted perception of love that Kiyo gives off in canon, I'd want Kiyo's result from sister's abuse to be that no one loves him and no one ever will.
He then begins to believe that love doesn't exist, and not just romantic love, but any kind of love. But rather than grow depressed by this fact, Kiyo uses it as a way to uplift himself. Telling himself that he doesn't need love and that he's perfectly fine being alone. To put it bluntly he's basically just coping from the abuse, trying to use it as shield to protect himself when in reality it's just a sword pointed at himself. But then again, what reason would he have for not believing this? This very concept is what's made him such a great detective.
He doesn't take sides because he can't understand the reasoning behind either side, not in an emotional way anyway. And even though he's incredibly successful in his work, there's a part of him deep down that is terribly lonely. A part of him that longs for company, a part of him that wishes he knew why hatred always burns in the eyes of those he arrests. And it isn't until he's kidnapped and taken to the Ultimate Academy that he finally has to acknowledge this part of himself. This starts with his relationship with Tenko.
Which, as you might expect, doesn't start too well. Tenko of course still has her "degenerate male philosophy" (though after chapter 1 this part of her becomes severely toned down and we get to see what her actual character is like sorta like what canon should have done before chapter 3) but Tsumugi, (ultimate pianist) accompanies Kiyo for a lot of chapter 1 and this sort of slowly warms Tenko up to Kiyo. After chapter 1 tho, when Kiyo flawlessly solves the first case, Tenko sees how useful Kiyo is and grows a sort of begrudging respect for him. After the trial she congratulates him on a job well done and Kiyo appreciates the gesture, obviously being able to tell that it wasn't something she was particularly ecstatic to do. Chapter 2 comes around and if you read my ask about Maki (ultimate artist) , you know this is when she starts spreading the "rumor" that Angie is an assassin.
Kiyo initially doesn't buy this at all, because even though he's exceptionally good at reading people, Angie is a total blank for him, so he can't really confirm or deny the rumors. What he does notice, though, is that Tenko seems to he strangely angry at these rumors, growing visibily distressed whenever Maki brings them up. He doesn't really get it, seeing as though he's only seen the two talking a handful of times, but he brushes it off but he doesn't get involved with people's personal bis. Until Tenko comes to him. He's surprised to see her and even more surprised to see the angry expression on her face.
She tells him that they can't keep letting this go on. He asks what and she responds with the rumors. He agrees that the rumors have gotten out of hand but he asks her what she wants him to do about it. She tells him that he is the only one that the others will believe. And he's like, fair enough, but why do you care so much. And she responds saying, "Because I have her motive video." Kiyo is shocked by this info and asks why she can't just tell them herself. And she says that, "Well, because the rumors are true, she is the ultimate assassin."
Kiyo is again flabbergasted and asks Tenko if she intends on him lying and she says yes. He asks her why, in the most sincerest tone, truly not understanding why anyone would go this far to lie about someone they hardly know, Tenko responds. "Because something isn't right, Monokuma has to be playing some trick, there's no way Angie is capable of murder." Kiyo still doesn't understand, but seeing the fierce determination in her eyes, he knows he won't be able to refuse her offer. And so he agrees that tomorrow he will do his best to dispel the rumors about Angie and convince everyone that she isn't an assassin. And then, the very next day, another body is discovered.
Immediately the opportunity to clear the air is gone in the mass confusion. And it's not long after that everyone begins to pin their blame on Angie. So, Tenko approaches Kiyo again asking if she can accompany Kiyo on his investigation, but only on the basis of defending Angie. Kiyo, who isn't used to working with others, hesitantly agrees and the two form a reluctant partnership. Kiyo initially plans to work on his own but after Tenko finds a few vital pieces of evidence he grows more accustomed to her presence and the two actually bond quite a bit, although they don't admit it.
Eventually the investigation ends and the two head to the trial together, convinced that Angie isn't the killer. Of course the main lie of this trial is that Angie is not the ultimate assassin, the only real thing that was pinning her to this case. After that is cleared up, Kiyo, along with some help from Tenko, solve the case. All is well and good with the world it seems, until Maki speaks up. She asks Monokuma to show Angie's motive video, just to be 100% sure that she isn't the ultimate assassin.
Immediately Tenko retorts, saying that they already cleared up that she wasn't but Maki replies.
"Well, if you're so sure that Angie isn't an assassin, then you should have no problem with me showing this right?"
"Unless, you know something we don't?"
The others agree with Maki and demand that the motive video be shown. Tenko looks to Kiyo, demanding he do something but Kiyo shakes his head. "They're too far gone now." Tenko clenches her fists, but doesn't say another word. With a grin of pure malice, Maki tells Monokuma to show the video and he complies, if a bit reluctantly due to Maki's tone. The video plays and the truth is revealed, Angie is the ultimate assassin.
After the video the students erupt into an uproar, angrily turning towards Tenko and Kiyo and demanding why they lied. Tenko responds that if they hadn't lied, the rest of the students would have gotten them killed. They also turn on Kiyo, asking why a detective would lie. He responds saying it was the only way to get to the truth. He also adds that Angie being an assassin had nothing to with this case, they already determined the true killer.
But despite their statements many of the students are still outraged as they mount the elevator. They also notice Angie is not with them, as she seems to have disappeared during the chaos. Two individuals however observe the scene with twisted glee, Maki and Kiibo (ultimate supreme leader). After everyone gets off the elevator, Tenko approaches Kiyo. She thanks him for standing up for Angie, and this time she actually sounds genuine. She then admits that maybe he's different than the other degenerate males and that he's not so bad. Kiyo accepts the sort of compliment and Tenko walks off.
And for the first time Kiyo feels happy. Now he's felt satisfaction after a solved case and even sometimes felt contentment but, he can't remember the last time he felt happy. The last he felt like he belonged. And after this the two from a solid friendship, one that will carry them throughout the entire game and Angie joins the squad too and as much as I'd love to get into their relationship this post is far too long already and I wouldn't wanna waste anymore of your time. But! I hope this was enjoyable at the very least.
I really enjoy getting these asks because they always help me to flesh out the story and the characters and they're always super fun to write so if you ever wanna know about any of the other characters, don't hesitate to ask. Thanks for the ask!
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Episode 31 Review: Danger to the Cryonics Capsule
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{ Not available on YouTube }
{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }
{ Screencaps }
And now we reach Episode 31, the first episode that isn’t currently available on YouTube. In fact, none of Week 7 is available on YouTube, which means no Bad Subtitle Special until the end of Week 8. (Is anyone else disappointed, or is it just me?) It’s a pity, because this is both a good episode and probably relatively unchanged from Ian Martin’s original script, although the absence of cheesy one-liners about the Devil does suggest some rewriting.
Here's the synopsis for this one, by the way, from the October 24, 1969 issue of The Plain Dealer:
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It’s interesting to note that, while this summary comes from the period of the Lost Episode summaries, it still accurately describes the plot of the aired version of the episode. It doesn’t describe all of it, but then, none of the newspaper summaries do, before or after the Lost Episodes period. So, without further ado, let’s hurry back to the crypt on Maljardin and check on Erica Desmond’s cryonics capsule.
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Dan trying to stop the cryonics tank from malfunctioning, despite knowing nothing about how it works. Not generally a smart idea.
While Jean Paul and Elizabeth are still with Vangie at the French Leave Café, the cryonics capsule's cooling mechanism malfunctions and its tank starts spraying water upwards. Dan tries to get it to stop spraying, but his efforts are in vain and he calls for Alison. She freaks out and they both run down there, but it doesn’t stop until just after Quito arrives around the corner.
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There’s a scene where they’re trying to fix the machine and both of them are talking to each other, but the only audio we hear is the background music. Not sure if that was deliberate on the part of the writer or the director, or if it’s a blooper.
Alison asks Dan what he was doing down there, and he confesses that he was searching for the missing cyanide. There’s an interesting part where he says “I’m not sure I trust [Raxl] or that zombie,” and Quito--who is still hiding--clenches his fists as though angered by the reminder of his undead state.
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Quito clenching his fists just before the intro.
After they return to the Great Hall, Alison blames Dan--"perhaps you inadvertently crossed the wires," she says--but he denies it. I'm surprised that Alison would accuse cautious, practical Dan of something so careless, but I don’t know him as well as she does. I’m also not sure how inadvertently crossing the wires would cause a tank to start spraying water, and I’m not sure the characters have any idea, either.
On the main island with Jean Paul and Vangie, Jean Paul recaps his cryonics scheme in a way that makes it clear that Ian Martin and/or the meddling executives really didn’t want him to repeat his catchphrase from the earlier episodes again:
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Jean Paul on Erica’s resurrection: "It WILL happen. I made that vow the day my darling wife was stricken IN SPITE OF GOD!"
Raxl, of course, blames THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES for the leak in the capsule’s tank. Raxl may be right--she usually is about matters of the occult--but after learning of the note from the Episode 30 script about who pushed Holly down the stairs, I’m thinking that the true culprit is someone else, someone less obvious. This scene also provides some blatant foreshadowing for the aborted plotline involving Tarasca:
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Raxl: “The master must be protected from all demons, from the past and in the present, especially the witch who seeks to own him!”
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The next shot.
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A clear shot from shortly after of Elizabeth’s dramatic eye makeup.
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The witch’s own version of Bissits Face™?
Meanwhile on the main island, Jean Paul convinces Vangie to hold a séance to contact Erica's spirit, which she is willing to do if slightly reluctant because she knows that she will eventually die on Maljardin.  This suggestion excites Elizabeth, whom he has to remind that "it is not a game."  She also asks if he would ever let her go, and he says that he would only let her return to Maljardin: proof that Jean Paul is still on board with the whole detained guests thing.
In the lab, Alison is searching the drawers of Dr. Menkin’s cabinet for his notes on Erica and finds a small notepad hidden among the papers in one. She reads it, her mouth agape, as Raxl enters.
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What could it say about Erica?
Raxl lets Alison know that she knows about Dan searching for the missing cyanide in the crypt and is not pleased. She asks Alison if Dan doesn’t trust her, and she defends him, saying that none of them can trust each other anymore. Then they debate whether or not one of the other characters made the machine break down. Alison says that she now thinks it most likely broke down on its own, but Raxl still insists that someone (by which she means Jacques) tampered with it. Raxl has a point, because brand-new water tanks don’t generally start spraying out huge amounts of water on their own like the capsule’s cooling tank was doing.
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SCENE INTERRUPTING DAN: “Hello, Raxl. I didn’t know you were interested in lab experiments, too.” (LOL)
Even though the leak was clearly the work of supernatural forces, Alison still tells Dan, "Don't make any more waves around here." Good luck with that. You may want to talk Jean Paul into having Quito buy you duct tape the next time you see him, then tape Dan’s mouth shut and tie his hands behind his back to keep him from tearing it off. That’s the only way to stop him from accusing Jean Paul of being a murderer and imprisoning all of you here. (It will also make it easier to get with your far more attractive brother-in-law, especially if you leave Dan in his bedroom while the two of you wrestle with your unresolved sexual tension in the Great Hall.)
In the crypt, Raxl tells Quito that it’s time to begin searching the caskets for the conjure doll and the silver pin--which I thought she said they already did in previous episodes, but I could be wrong. Maybe they just want to double-check to make sure they checked everywhere in the basement. Quito begins pulling open Jacques’ casket and we cut to a couple filler scenes with the other characters. When we return to Raxl and Quito, we find her back upstairs searching the fireplace in the Great Hall for the doll and pin. When Quito arrives, she asks him if he found them in the casket and he shakes his head. They head upstairs to continue their search--which, again, I thought she said that they already searched upstairs in Episode 29, but I suppose they just want to double-check.
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Alison tells Dan when he next visits the lab that Dr. Menkin was trying to learn how to recreate an entire human body. Reminds me of Frankenstein. Dr. Frankenstein and Dr. Menkin both tried to play God by creating a living human body, but their experiments differed in that Frankenstein used cadaver parts to build his man, while Menkin’s experiments involved cellular regeneration and possibly (based on the sources referenced in Episode 26) robotics/artificial intelligence as well. I don’t know if Martin had planned to draw a direct parallel between the Drs. Menkin and Frankenstein at some point, but I suspect he was.
But Alison still doesn’t know enough about his experiments to satisfy her (or us), because all of Dr. Menkin’s notes from the six weeks before his death are missing. This is suspicious for obvious reasons, given his death shortly after her arrival, which she still doesn’t know was Jacques’ fault for no other reason than that she was upstairs at the time when he told Raxl his highly suspicious story about Menkin’s “accident” in the water.
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Really, Dan? A bottle of cyanide goes missing and yet you willingly drink alcohol that’s been sitting out where anyone could pour poison into it? SMH Yet another reason why Alison should duct tape your mouth shut.
Dan is suspicious of Raxl--who is just about the last character they should suspect of hiding the cyanide or murdering either Erica or Dr. Menkin--but even more suspicious of Jean Paul. He and Alison also discuss how Jean Paul may not have filed Erica's death certificate with the authorities and how suspicious this makes him look--which is recap, yes, but which I bring up again because it is still relevant. I am really thinking (and was really thinking as far back as last fall) that Martin was originally planning to reveal that Jean Paul killed Erica and was trying to resurrect her out of some combination of guilt, regret, and fear that Erica's death would make him look suspicious. This would not only make these clues worth more than red herrings (or, should I say, kippers?), but it would also connect to all the things that Jacques says about he and Jean Paul not being so different. I have a whole theory about this, which I plan to discuss in a future post sometime later in this arc.
Alison also mentions some sea caves five hundred yards from an unseen cove on Maljardin, which she says Raxl told her about (unfortunately, I don’t remember in which episode). This seems to be foreshadowing something--I’m guessing the discovery of Jacques’ pirate ship that’s mentioned in another episode--but they never visit the caves, unless that’s where the Temple of the Serpent is located.
Back on the main island, Jean Paul has returned, but Vangie has left to go somewhere. Jean Paul says that she is probably packing a few days’ clothing for her stay on his island. Elizabeth is relieved to hear that she will only be there a few days. She also reveals that she sees Vangie as "competition" for Jean Paul's affections. (LOL) I would say that she is deluding herself, but then, she is unaware that Jean Paul was possessed all the times that he flirted with her; in her mind, Jacques is the real Jean Paul and the Jean Paul who mourns Erica is “not himself.” It does explain, however, why she was clinging to him in that one scene from last episode. Even so, Vangie never has any love interests on the show. I’ve suspected for a while that she and Raxl secretly have a thing for each other. Obviously they wouldn’t have shown that on TV in 1969, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t still ship them together.[1]
Elizabeth’s profession of interest in him motivates Jacques to possess him again, and we get
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HEADACHE FACES! Yay!
After possessing him, Jacques reassures Elizabeth that he is very much still interested in her (Elizabeth, I mean, not Vangie). He also sends the audience more false hopes for Holly's death: "I'd stake Jean Paul Desmond's life, virtually every day…What’s one life, more or less? It doesn't even matter whose life. Take your daughter for example, before she's twenty-one and inherits all those millions."
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Elizabeth looks appalled by this suggestion, but it’s hard to say if she truly is or if it’s all an act. I’m sure, though, that this is, roughly, the thought process going through Jacques’ mind:
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Coming up next: Jean Paul and Vangie make more arrangements for the séance to contact Erica and Raxl reveals more of Maljardin’s history.
{ <- Previous: Episode 30   ||   Next: Episode 32 -> }
Notes
[1] In the books, Quito is Raxl’s husband, but that obviously isn’t the case on the show, or else she would most likely be jealous of his affections for Holly. The fact that she isn’t suggests that the two aren’t married (or, at the very least, aren’t married anymore) in the show canon. This means that Raxl doesn’t have a canonical love interest.
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falseroar · 4 years
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Is This Your Card? Part 16: Alone with the Seer
((The table quickly turns on the District Attorney, but Celine proposes an idea, a way that the attorney could help her discover what’s really going on in this house. Despite some objections from the others, Y/N decides to take her up on her offer if it means possibly getting to the truth.
(This part contains a couple of references to Silent Watch, and changes up the relationship between the DA and the Seer from canon.)
Here’s a link to the masterlist for the whole au and to the most recent part.))
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Watch as I betray them all”
The words on the card had an immediate effect on the table, and feebly you said, “I don’t…This isn’t—”
“Isn’t what?” Celine asked when you hesitated, and you swore you could hear the taunt in her voice.
But you couldn’t answer her, couldn’t just admit that your card was the bloodstained one lying in the middle of the table, the word “werewolf” an accusation and condemnation all in one.
“You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time, Y/N,” Celine pressed further, and you could feel the energy ripple around the table, the accusing stares that you met one by one as the others piled on.
“With those beady little eyes,” Chef said, his gaze going to your bruised eye in particular.
“And wearing those rags?” Benjamin scoffed, leaving you to fight the urge to look down at your wrinkled and disheveled clothes from last night’s party.
Your gaze went to Abe next, saw his eyes flicker over you before he said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted someone so god damn gorgeous.”
Wait, what?
In between you and him, the Colonel seemed to realize that it was his turn to speak up, but he only waved a hand and said, “I’ll pass.”
On your other side, Damien remained silent and tense, his eyes on the card in front of you. You couldn’t be sure what was going through his mind, whether he would have spoken up for you if he knew a way to do so without causing more trouble—or if his sister wasn’t here.
“This card doesn’t mean anything,” you said. “It sounds more like a taunt than an accusation, doesn’t it?”
“…True,” Celine said, surprising you. “It’s as though someone singled you out, to observe what’s happened here this weekend. As I suggested earlier, I believe this is just one part of a bigger story, and I sense that you have a far greater role to play in all of this. I trust you can help me find an answer, Y/N. Will you help me?”
“…I want to know what happened to Mark, the same as everyone else at this table,” you answered, and she smiled.
“Perfect. Come with me.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Abe said, before she could rise from her chair. “How exactly do you expect them to ‘help’ you?”
“There are ways to find the answers we seek. I am a practiced seer, and with that comes experience with the arcane arts. Believe me when I say that I have seen things that you could not possibly begin to understand,” Celine said, drawing herself up to her full height to better glare down at him.
“Try me,” Abe muttered under his breath, before raising his voice again as he stood. “So what, you’re going to drag my partner off to do some ritual that will most likely lead to their death?”
“No one said anything about dying,” you said, ignoring the way the butler and the chef both looked at the “Death” card lying right in front of you.
“This isn’t up for debate, partner,” Abe said without looking at you, his eyes still locked on Celine.
Partner. Abe’s second card was just barely visible underneath his “Hermit” card, but you didn’t have to see it to remember the long list of names typed on it.
Before you could think of anything reassuring to say to him in front of everyone else, the Colonel stood as well, both hands flat on the table.
“Well, I trust Celine with all my heart! I don’t see any reason why anyone should doubt her!”
While Abe and the Colonel glared at each other, Benjamin raised a finger and said, “Well, I have to agree with our hunter. This just doesn’t seem natural.”
“Yeah, like any of this is ‘natural,’” Chef countered. “We might be dealing with a werewolf, have you all forgotten that?”
You wished you could forget, same as you wished half the table wouldn’t look at you when he said it.
“If it makes you feel better, you guys can stand watch outside the door,” Celine said. “But my work cannot be interrupted.”
“Oh, believe you me, I’ll be keeping a close eye on every single one of you.” Abe stared around the table. “Doesn’t matter how natural or not all of this is, I’m sure I’ve dealt with worse.”
That apparently settled, Celine gestured for you to follow her and walked out of the room, but you weren’t the only one to rise from the table.
Damien, who had been silent this entire time, passed you at the door frame and caught up to Celine at the foot of the stairs with a cry of, “Celine, wait!”
“Yes, Damien?” Celine asked curtly, her tone suggesting that she only stopped because her twin brother had blocked the way up the stairs.
“Are you alright? I know this news can’t be settling well with you.”
Celine brushed past him, her voice empty of emotion as she said, “I’m fine for now.”
You and Damien locked eyes, briefly.
Celine had been Mark’s wife, up until the fallout earlier this year. You didn’t know the details, you doubted anyone outside of the couple and perhaps Damien did. Even the tabloids had failed to pick up anything beyond baseless rumors and swirling gossip as Mark retreated away from the world at the same time. You’d barely seen him after the divorce.
Of course, you had barely seen him before the divorce, too.
Leaving it up to Damien to chase after Celine and try again, saying as he went up the stairs, “But all of this talk of the occult, I thought you had—”
“Given it up after I married Mark?” Celine answered as she paused at the top of the stairs.
“Well, yes,” Damien said. “I just thought…you wouldn’t become wrapped up in all of this. We don’t know what’s going on here, Celine, someone sent those cards, they knew us and they mur—Mark is dead.”
“There’s more to this world than you could ever hope to imagine. I just had my eyes opened to a small portion of it, and I can’t just close them now, little brother,” Celine said. “Especially not now, when it could help us find out who killed Mark.”
She turned and continued on down the hall without waiting for a response, and after a moment to sigh and run his hand through his hair, Damien called after her, “Just be careful!”
You reached the top of the stairs and glanced at Damien, who failed to meet your eyes. You could have asked him why his sister would be here, or if he knew why Mark’s card said what it did. You could have asked him why he had said nothing at the table, when everyone else turned against you.
But you didn’t ask, and he didn’t offer any answers.
Instead, he just added softly, “You too.”
Like you would follow Celine into yet another small room that you had never seen before or shut the door behind you if you were trying to be careful.
“It has been a while, hasn’t it, Y/N?” Celine asked as she opened a black leather bag and began placing a series of items on top of the small table in between you, starting with a tattered, square piece of fabric whose corners hung down over the side of the table. “Since we had a chance to talk alone like this.”
“Couldn’t have anything to do with what you said you would do if I ever set foot in this house again, would it?” you asked. “Something about a fur rug, wasn’t it?”
Celine gave a fond smile at the memory as she lit the last of several candles, which did little to break the darkness in the room. The flickering flames caught her eyes and sent a shadow over her face as she said, “Well, it certainly didn’t stop you, now did it?”
“I didn’t think you’d care, all things considered. Why should it bother you who your ex-husband chooses to invite to some party?” You crossed your arms and sat back in your chair, fighting to appear calm and collected even though every hair on your body felt as though it were standing on its end.
“What bothers me is that I warned you, I warned you something like this would happen when I told you to stay away from Mark and my brother,” Celine said, her voice rising slightly before she regained control of herself. “And you didn’t listen to me.”
There were more items on the table now, besides the candles. A large crystal ball, several strange, wooden shapes covered in markings you couldn’t understand, a couple of dark, pitted stones that seemed to absorb the light from the candles. And, clenched tight in her right hand, a silver amulet.
“I had nothing to do with Mark’s death—”
“Oh, and it’s just a coincidence that he had your cards on him, just before he took a silver bullet to the chest?” Celine asked. “I knew, as soon as I saw you for what you were, that you would mean nothing but pain and ruin for Mark and Damien if I didn’t—”
“What does Damien have to do with this?” you interrupted, your own hands clenched tight to fight back the urge to change, to get out of this room.
“What do you think would have happened, if someone had found that werewolf card on you? If your little secret left this house?” Celine asked, her voice lowered and trembling. “The district attorney, friend to Mark Iplier and the mayor himself, revealed to all the world to be a werewolf. And suddenly everyone’s wondering how much they knew, if Damien was simply ignorant of the true nature of the monster he backed and helped put into office, or if he knew. Everything he worked so hard for, ruined in a single weekend because he just wouldn’t listen to me.”
“You told him to stay away from me, too,” you said. It wasn’t a surprise, just another confirmation of how much the Seer hated you.
“For all the good it did,” Celine muttered. “Instead, he just went and offered to hide you away in his own home every full moon. Like keeping you safe was the problem here.”
“…What about Mark?” you asked. “Did you ever…?”
“Tell him you were a werewolf?” Celine laughed without a trace of humor. “No, it never came up. His work kept him busy enough that he didn’t have time for anyone else, so that was never a problem.”
Was that a trace of bitterness in her voice? Or maybe you just imagined it.
Your eyes ran over her fingers again, noting that there wasn’t even a line to mark her missing wedding ring anymore.
“Why are you here, Celine?”
Celine paused and then sighed, her breath nearly extinguishing one of the candles closest to her before she opened her eyes again and met your stare.
“I couldn’t shake the feeling I had about this party, ever since I heard about it. I felt, I knew that something terrible would happen this weekend, I tried to warn...But it happened anyways, and I don’t think it’s stopped happening, not yet.” She ran her hand over the two cards in front of her, and with a start you recognized the bloodstained cards Abe had placed on the table earlier. “You can feel it, can’t you? There is something at work here, a presence that…that reminds me of you.”
“What?”
She pointed at your chest with the hand still holding the silver amulet and said, “That curse that clings to you, it reeks of the same darkness that lurks in these walls. It’s how I knew there was something wrong with you, the moment I met you.”
You reached up and gripped your shirt, remembering that night in the woods. Those solid black eyes that had taken your friend, the silver touch that left you reeling until the moonlight changed your life forever. The night you learned that there were things out there, entities that would do anything to enter this world, cruel beings that didn’t care who they hurt along the way to whatever goal they set their sight on.
There was something that clung to the air of this house, that pressed down at every moment, leaving you with the itch in the back of your spine that screamed it wasn’t safe, that left you feeling so close to changing at every moment. If there was even a chance that Celine was right, that there could be something like that in this house…
“What do you think we could do?” you asked. “To stop it?”
Celine tapped the crystal ball with her finger and said, “To start with, we need to know what we’re dealing with. I believe that your curse means that you already have a connection with things not of our world—”
She cut you off before you could protest and continued, “Whether we like it or not, you’re the best option we have right now. I’ll do what I can to help, but I need you to concentrate and tell me what you see.”
She waited until you reluctantly nodded and then spread her hands out over the cards, the silver amulet still tucked between two fingers as she closed her eyes. Her lips moved, but you couldn’t hear any words, only feel the darkness begin to gather in the corners of the room, threatening to snuff out the light of the candles, whose sputtering flames illuminated the swirling mists within the crystal ball at the center of the table.
You found your eyes drawn to the crystal ball, to the images that flickered within the mists inside echoed by the shifting shadows in the corners of your eyes.
The images grew stronger the longer you looked, until it was like you were there again, standing in the foyer looking up the stairs as Mark spoke to the small gathering with his drink in hand.
“—surrounded by such close and trusted friends—”
His eyes met yours, his words twisted and broken by the memory of his body on the floor until you wondered if they had always sounded so hollow and bitter.
“I locked the door to your room once I was sure you were safe and sound in bed,” Damien’s voice said in your head, contradicting the image in your mind of reaching the open bedroom door just as the butler rounded the corner, tray in hand.
The next image that floated up was Damien and Abe arguing in your bedroom, their voices muffled and distant. You watched in confusion, wondering when this happened until Abe’s voice swam into focus and you heard him say, “—have a little voice in the back of your head that whispers every time you’re around the attorney that maybe today’s the day they—”
His words drifted back into the muffled haze that surrounded you, leaving only another layer to the sick and twisted ache in the center of your chest and you shut your eyes, not wanting to see the words on his lips or Damien’s response.
You stepped back and found yourself looking down at the Colonel, seated on the bench outside with his eyes hidden behind his glasses, his smile wistful as he said, “I guess we both needed someone to keep us this side of sane. I had hoped she would help me—”
You saw the Chef, knife in hand as he spoke of his failed restaurant, heard Benjamin’s lament about a partner who betrayed him, too many voices swirling together until, suddenly, you found yourself standing outside again, this time in darkness.
You could hear a voice, muffled and going in and out too much to make out any individual words, only the rise and fall of the speech of a man you had never seen before, leaning on a shovel as he spoke to you and Abe and the Chef, his eyes alight with urgency. Something important, something…
You blinked, the room returning to focus as you whispered, “The gardener.”
“The what?” Celine asked, her biting voice cutting through the mist that still seemed to fill your head. “Did you see something? Someone? Tell me!”
“The gardener, he’s seen this before,” you said softly, dreamily as though you were still half-asleep, but you felt certain you were right about this. The gardener would know what to do.
Celine, on the other hand, only seemed to grow angrier at the sound of your words, like you hadn’t given her the answer she was looking for. “Is that it?! No, you need to go back, there has to be more—”
It must have been the remaining haze in your mind, that made you ignore the obvious presence in the room growing stronger with her every word, how the darkness in the corners had left the flames of the candles like pale echoes of any real light, that made you think now was an okay time to ask your next question.
“The Colonel’s Lovers card. Who else knew you two were having an affair, besides Mark?”
There was only a moment, barely a second to register the surprise on the seer’s face, before it quickly turned to rage.
((End of Part 16. In Celine’s defense, she genuinely wants to do what she believes is best for the people in her life. The DA just...doesn’t line up with her idea of “what’s best” though.
Link to Part 17: The Groundskeeper.
Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch))
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inventors-fair · 4 years
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How Legends Are Made
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In general, I’m always happy with the diversity of entries. I’m surprised there weren’t as many uncommon Dominaria or Kamigawa inspired legend themes. It feels like a lot of people came from the same place, and honestly, that makes sense. There aren’t that many cards that create legendary tokens, after all. But the design space is open, and you guys delved!
Let’s get to commentary, shall we?
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@3smuth​ — Brother of Flesh
What I’m not understanding is why there just isn’t another card called “Brother of Blood” that this can be paired with, and why it’s a legendary token instead. In my opinion, the concept would have felt better as two cards. Practically, though, this is a bomb legend that puts eight power on board and is a tribal build-around, and frankly, I like it a lot. I just wish it had a better feel.
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@ace-hobo​ — Rite of Sadra
I agonized a little over this card. It feels appropriately Zendikar-y, so if that was your intention you succeeded. I am not a personal fan of the X/X tokens, but that’s not a real reason, I’m just prejudiced. Honestly, there’s nothing technically wrong with this card. It doesn’t tickle my fancy, but it doesn’t lose points for any reason either. It’s a pretty fun limited card, something fun to open up, good in ramp decks even in the late game. Name could use some pizzazz.
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@allaroundawesme​ — Jiang Yanggu, Journeyman
I applaud you for creating an interesting planeswalker that’s actually moderately well-balanced. I would have made the second ability a -1 or -2, honestly, but that’s about all I can say for that. It feels like Yanggu, so you succeeded there. In terms of technical things, Mowu is just “a legendary green Hound [dog now, actually!] token with “This creature’s power and toughness are” etc.” You don’t need to add */*. Also for that last ability, you need to specify whether or not it’s two mana of any one color or two mana in any combination of colors.
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@ceta-maelstrom​ — Ela, Primal Hunter
Another green planeswalker that’s pretty much well-balanced? Dang, y’all on fire this week. However, as much as I understand the bardic reincarnation, it feels weird to have both the ETB and the -4 be the same thing. It feels like you’re pulling the same bear out of the aether, and it negates the legendary sensation that having the specific token is supposed to create. Save this card, change the first ability to “up to one target,” and don’t make the bear legendary.
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@dabudder​ — Lavinia, Stoic Defender
I like how you had a new take on a now-familiar legend. Reading up on her was interesting. That said, I don’t feel that this card is worthy of a mythic status. It’s narrow and a little weird, and pretty expensive for a 1/1 with no creature protection. The creation of The Guildpact feels... Off. I simply feel that it should be its own event rather than something Lavinia does on her own. I know it’s vague, but the segregation of guilds on Ravnica means that five-color-ness has to have an impact that this card simply doesn’t. Small note: “monocolored” should be one word.
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@dancepatternalpha​ — Sword of Destiny
So, uh, what’s up with that first trigger? Do you create a Human AND put on a counter? Or like, were you going to erase one of those? Not sure what’s going on. It feels fine that the sword isn’t legendary. I think I prefer it. The word “creatures” in Arthur’s ability should be capitalized. Also, current wording is to put the name of the token before the other stuff a la Tolsimir. Mechanically, it’s fine. Good use of colored equipment. Still not sure what’s up with that trigger, if you missed a word or whatnot.
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@deeran-moo​ — Rose, Rebellion Leader
In general, it’s best to stay away from non-MTG IP unless the contest specifically calls for it. That’s a general note. As for the card, it would work fine...if I wasn’t a massive fan of Steven Universe with massive story qualms. It’s an interesting choice to have her be mono-red with a white activation. But for one, why does Steven have flying? He floats! Why isn’t he a Gem, too? Additionally, I’m rather upset by the implication that Steven exists as a prison for Rose, which you set up mechanically by having recursion. If Steven goes, Steven goes, and there is no Rose. She’s gone, as the line says. So that’s a snafu. But anyway, for mechanical purposes, she doesn’t need a color indicator, “Strike” doesn’t need to be capitalized, and there doesn’t need to be a period after “haste.”
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@demimonde-semigoddess​ — Memory of Wisdom
This is an interesting take. I wonder who’s saying the line of the flavor text. Perhaps a priest, a follower? I remember that kickass art of Kefnet dead and bleeding on the floor. Mechanically, this card’s appropriately mythic, a fine control staple, pretty fun, solid. The word “spirit” should be capitalized, and “7″ should be written out as “seven.” Aside from that... Not bad? Name feels like it could use buffing up.
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@dim3trodon​ — Veren, the Haunted
I like a unique counter as much as the next guy. Pretty flavorful. But why on earth does this card say “For the rest of the game” on it? Is that meant to set a rule? An emblem? How does it trigger? I grok it but it doesn’t work in the rules at all. This would have worked so much better as an enchantment with “When ~ enters the battlefield, create a [insert kind of token] with a haunting counter on it.” That said, I appreciate how more things become haunted. I don’t like how if you don’t have any targets it goes to an opponent’s creature because it forces you to target.
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@fractured-infinity​ — Amulet of Selenia
So, it creates an Angel token, and this card’s sole purpose is to ensure that nobody else can play it? This is a lot of words to create a token. The flavor is fine, but it plays just horribly. It’s a lot of text to do practically nothing but hate itself. The justification isn’t strong enough to create a vision of the vindictive nature that your flavor text and the story strive for. It’s not a bad flavor, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired.
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@gollumni​ — Vance’s Influence
Everything I said about your last card still applies here, pretty much. It’s a build-around-me, it’s poop in limited unless you’re the luckiest player in the world, it’s an interesting tutor, etc. Not a lot to say here, considering.
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@hypexion​ — Phyrean Crucible
Did I miss something? I searched, but I couldn’t find the word “Phyrean” anywhere in Magic’s history. Anyway, the wither is an...interesting choice. Can’t say it feels particularly like Mirrodin/NP, but whatever, it plays well for a rare. But you have to have three creatures whose exact power is seven? To make a 5/5? Why? The numbers here feel arbitrary and unnecessarily complicated. “Seven or greater” could have worked, perhaps. Honestly, I’d rather have those three creatures and an artifact that gives wither rather than a token who’s not guaranteed to be as objectively strong.
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@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​ — Azor, the Arbiter of Law // Azor, the Last Guardian
Oh boy. This is...a lot of text. I’ll give points for flavor. But this is just too much. The first ability doesn’t need reminder text, see Domri and Riot, and should be “up to one target.” The second ability costs far too much to just play Sphinx’s Decree. Why not just copy the text from that card instead of the wording you used here? Also, why does he have a color indicator on the front? And as for the flip side... I don’t have anything creative to say. It’s not a reference to The Immortal Sun, it’s a copy, and I have nothing positive to add about that. In reference to this whole card, I would rather have seen your creative input regarding a new token, something unique.
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@ignorantturtlegaming​ — Adelyne, Wolf Speaker
Love the flavor and concept here. Mechanically, it could use some work. For one, the first ability only gives flash to wolves on the battlefield, and, well... If they’re already on the battlefield, flash is useless. You’d want to say “You may cast Wolf spells as though they had flash.” Secondly, and someone can correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not sure if the second ability ‘works’ as a replacement effect? I think by the time she becomes the target, it’s too late to give her hexproof, and I’m not sure why this isn’t a trigger. It would certainly be more grokable. “comes into play” should be replaced with “enters the battlefield” on Cheyenne. Still, great great druidic flavor.
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@illharg-the-rave-boar​ — To Rule Them All // Lord Sauron
Call me a stickler and a jerk (it’s the only identity I have left), but I’m not a big fan of non-MTG IP for contests that don’t call for it. Oh, but I’ll stop being a stick in the mud. I’m a huge fan of the transformation and your use of a sorcery spell to signify a grand event. The activation should be “Put ~ onto the battlefield from your graveyard transformed” as seen on Startled Awake. Almost corrected to “return” but I learned my lesson there. I love how Sauron can be defeated without the ring. Really, this card’s full of good stuff. I’m just a butt about the game.
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@mistershinyobject​ — Nest of the Gremlin King
What a jolly happy name. There are only a couple things that make this card not perfect for me. For one, every instance of creature types should be capitalized — Pest and Gremlin. For two, shift+enter puts the quote attribution on the proper line, and you can use the Mainframe editor to bump the text up and down as need be. For three, I’m not positive why a nest is making creatures attack? Little off in the flavor. For four, I’d rather have a Kaladeshian name than Gizmo. All these are petty things that don’t discount the fact that this card’s fun, annoying, red, annoying, and great. And annoying. I love that little snoot-nosed bastard.
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@nine-effing-hells​ — Occult Research // Secrets Best Left Buried
I think the macabre is neato. Everything about this card is creepy, flavorful, evokes the aura you clearly intended, and builds up an implied world. Let’s talk about Revelation. I like it and don’t like your implementation. How to fix it: Make it a keyword action that adds insight counters to permanents, and have three insight counters always do something. Like: “Carbuncled Chemister || 1R || Creature - Human Wizard || Revelation — Whenever you cast an instant or sorcery spell, put an insight counter on Carbuncled Chemister. Then, if it has three or more insight counters on it, it deals 2 damage to any target.” Keep this mechanic around. I like it.
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@reaperfromtheabyss​ — Disciple of Madness
Spelling madness backwards. Har de har. In all seriousness, I feel that this card missed the mark. It requires a big sacrifice for a big reward, and I like that. But all the in-jokes fall flat for me. And if you have no cards in hand already, well. “trample and haste” should be separated by a comma. And consider this: what if it said “Each player’s maximum hand size is zero” instead? I know it’s a little weird, and Jin-Gitaxis is a different precedent, but man, it reads better. Gotta have something to do. I like how this card’s a fun build-around for Goblins.
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@shakeszx — Haakan, Eternity’s Conduit
Was the name an intentional callback to Haakon, Stromgald Scourge? If so, that’s confusing as butts. As for the card... You are technically correct. A legendary token is being made. It doesn’t mesh with the spirit of the contest at all — oh, “Spirit” should be capitalized — but you are technically correct. I think the exile should target and be part of the activation cost. Aside from that, it’s a fun build-around-me commander. Not broken, pretty neat. Still hung up on the name.
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@shootingstarhunter​ — Echo of the True
Er... So, is this card “Echo of the True” or “Spirit of the True?” You have both here. Gotta proofread, my inventor. Anyway, I would look at Rekindling Phoenix for a better notion on how to make that token work. If you give the token a trigger to return a card named [thing] of the True from exile to the battlefield, then that meshes better as a trigger. Points for Spirit God. Maybe I’m exhausted, but I find it interesting. So there you have it.
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@walker-of-the-yellow-path​ — Mad Baker
And Urza laughed, and laughed, and laughed again. In all seriousness, one mana for a Food artifact token is busted beyond belief. This card is silly, and I like the idea, but that cheap artifact production is too powerful. “Token,” “Legendary,” “Colorless” and “Trample” all need to be lowercase as well. Flavor text on POINT, though. Love it.
~
Which one of these will influence next week’s contest accidentally? Stick around and find out! Thank you for all your entries.
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suzukiblu · 5 years
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excerpt from current writing: 
“As you like it, my dear,” Aziraphale says wryly, and they get on with the business of molding young Warlock into the most morally neutral human possible. Crowley reads him dreadful stories and sings him murderous lullabies and Aziraphale tells him all about the beauty of the world and the inherent value of other people and Crowley finds even more murderous lullabies. Never let it be said he’s slacking on his half of the Arrangement. 
Though the Arrangement does take a bit of a beating, juggling all their usual sins and blessings along with a very observant child. When they’re not around, Warlock NOTICES, which Crowley considers the best evidence of his demonic heritage they’ve had so far. He frequently has to distract Warlock from playing outside on days when “Brother Francis” is off performing miracles in the name of keeping their jobs, and Aziraphale has to keep him outside on days when Crowley’s doing the same. In the name of keeping THESE jobs, they need to be very careful not to be spotted as going missing at the wrong time. Unfortunately, some temptations are time-sensitive. 
A determined five year-old is a wily opponent, for the record.
“But WHY can’t I go play outside?” Warlock whines from the floor, surrounded by toys and still somehow bored to spitefulness. 
“It’s raining,” Crowley lies from the armchair. 
“No it’s not!” 
Crowley snaps his fingers. Hail crashes against the living room window. He raises an eyebrow at Warlock, who scowls. 
“I wanna play outside!” he says. 
“You’d catch your death of cold, and your infernal father would have my giblets,” Crowley says. Though it WOULD solve their main problem, he supposes. Or buy them a bit of time, at least. 
Come to think of it, he’s not actually sure Warlock CAN die, human-ish body or no. He really should’ve asked about that. 
“I don’t care!” Warlock yells. 
“My giblets would,” Crowley says. Warlock throws a toy car at him and throws a fit, and they spend a miserable afternoon indoors. Crowley spends it waiting to be agonizingly discorporated and figuring Hell will be delighted to hear it, but tantrums aside apparently Warlock isn’t angry enough for any horrible occult powers to come out. Probably for the best; Crowley might’ve lost the nanny job waiting for a new body, and then he’d have had to come up with a new in. 
He’s also watered the lawn, because SOMEONE has to. 
“Next time it’s MY turn to go cursing and blessing,” he informs Aziraphale when the other returns, the both of them standing on the back terrace to avoid any unfortunate eavesdropping. 
“Oh dear,” Aziraphale says, pursing his lips. “Was he that difficult?” 
“Of course he was, he’s the bloody Antichrist!” Crowley says.
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