#it's like deja vue

[ikram1909]

i can’t imagine what he must be feeling atm ☹️ such an amazing start to the season, now has to be put on hold due to this injury. everything about this is tainted with november 19th 2023 😭

No because I saw this edit earlier and just wanted to die 😭😭

[ramblingcoyote]

Gakuganji: Yaga, you need to control your students. They run around here like wild animals.

Yaga:...why did you have to say that

Gojo: *jumping up and down on his desk tossing his papers* Oo Oo AH!

Geto: *perched on the back of Shoko's chair grooming through her hair for bugs* Oo Oo Oo!

[allineedisonedream]

omg i stumbled across your blog recently and your art is gorgeous!!! i love the style and the way you draw dick in particular so much!

also i couldn’t stop thinking about your tangled au it’s so clever! it got me thinking of an au of your au (if that’s presumptuous or annoying feel free to ignore this ask lol). but it always bugged me slightly in the original tangled that rapunzel could remember stuff from when she was a baby bc babies can’t do that lol (obv she also has magic glowing hair so suspension of disbelief and all). but what if dick was actually older when slade (or court of owls tbh take your pick) kidnapped him? like he came under bruce’s care just like in canon after his parents died, and was around long enough to become brothers with jason, and tim had just been adopted when dick and bruce have a fight and dick storms off. not as bad as comics and bruce doesn’t kick him out bc he’s not an ass lol, but maybe dick wants to do more with his powers and bruce is overprotective, so dick storms out fully intending to come back, but slade has been watching him and takes this chance to kidnap him. and when bruce goes looking for him all he finds is a bloodstain and no dick.

and obviously dick is very keen on escaping the creepy dude who’s kidnapped him, but slade brings him to the basement of the tower and begins to torture/brainwash him sort of like the apprentice arc. and over time bc slade sucks and is good at the whole brainwashing thing, dick slowly looses his memories and eventually can’t remember a life outside of the tower at all. and he continues to grow up in the tower with slade as his “father” and he always has this sense that something isn’t quite right, but he can’t put his finger on it. like he has all these weird torture-like scars that he can’t remember getting, but slade tells him that it was from when he was young and before slade rescued him, and that’s why the world is so scary and dangerous and he has to stay in the tower where slade can protect him. and ofc he does bc slade loves him and wouldn’t lie to him right? and he doesn’t know why the name richard doesn’t fit him quite right, or why his heart races when slade appears unexpectedly (that’s how love works right?). but he stays in the tower like he’s supposed to until wally and roy show up.

and slowly after traveling with them he begins to get weird flashes of both painful and good memories, and strange sensations of deja vue. while meanwhile bruce is still all brooding and mourning bc it was his fight that led dick to run away. and added angst is that jason and tim actually remember and miss dick, even though tim had just started to get to know him. and damian is angsty bc he’s the only one never to have met dick (handwavy on the ages just like dc lol). meanwhile the kingdom still remembers and mourns the charismatic adorable prince that they lost.

and then when slade eventually catches up to and captures wally and roy, dick offers to give himself up and promises never to escape if slade spares them. and it’s extra sad bc he finally remembers what he’d be giving up. he remembers bruce and alfred and his brothers, and he remembers all the trauma slade put him through, and he’s willing to go through it all again to save wally and roy (bc is it really dick grayson if he isn’t super self sacrificing lol). and ofc it eventually ends happily and dick is delighted to go back to his family with his new friends and see his old brothers and meet his new brother all with a new haircut.

but yeah overall your au wormed its way into my brain and i couldn’t stop thinking about it lol, it’s so good!!!!

Ahjajfk thank youuuu<3

And OMG, this is amazing! Beautifully written, yes, absolutely love all the details, especially Slade's and Dick's relationship in all this. I've actually thought about him being taken later on so Tim and Jason would also remember Dick. But I think I started overthinking everything and made it way too complicated (I think I wrote about 20 pages of notes and stuff, I kinda got lost in them. I was/am pretty obsessed with this AU), so I just reeled back a bit and stayed close to the plot. It also simplifies things; I don’t have to rewrite the whole story, which, with my overthinking skills, would take forever. 💀

And that part with Slade making Dick forget who he was is great. I kept the whole AU pretty open with some stuff for imagination. My running idea at the moment is that he got sick when he was 8, so Bruce found the flower, and later Slade kidnapped him, making him forget everything and thinking Slade is his father.

But yeah, OMG, this is awesome. I totally love it. I tried to make it as detailed as possible story-wise, but at the same time, I really needed to limit myself to finish fast because I was scared I would lose interest or don’t have the patience haha But Now I’m kinda even more excited about how people will react to the next chapters. 👀

[zeldaelmo]

oooh, i like the chapter title “old wounds” tell

me about that one! 😊

Ah, so this is very late in the story, so massive spoilers for Inspiration, Illusions, and other Inconveniences!

So, we're at a point where the two have figured out their secret identities. They're on a secret getaway in Rito Village and a call of Link's boss Impa brings the question of their future back on the table.

It's a big deal for Link because being with Zelda means giving up his career as a Royal Guard and he needs time to decide. Zelda understands that, but since her ex Midna left for the exact same reason, she struggles a lot with her emotions in this chapter.

That's what Old Wounds is referring to—Zelda feels like she's living through a deja vue, but she doesn't want to pressure Link into anything he doesn't want either. 😊

My fav paragraphs are a bit of comic relief in the otherwise serious chapter:

“What—what would I do instead?” he asked, his lips brushing her hair. It was warm and soft and still smelled of the perfume he knew so well from hours of duty. He should probably put distance between them but he couldn't bring himself to do it. “My job can't be to just follow you around like a puppy.”

Her body moved under his arm and belatedly, Link realized that she chuckled. 

“Yeah, well, okay,” he admitted with a grin of his own. “I ran right into that one. But it's different because I have an actual job to do, namely to keep you safe.”

Fics mentioned in this post:

[halfofmysoulasthepoetsay]

what the fuck someone (@candyrocks03) is infodumping abt infinity train to me rn (sounds rlly cool) and like

im getting so much freaking deja vue??? Like?? I can almost clearly remember all of this happening before

[versegm]

There are few things in this world that can genuinely surprise Morgan. It comes with living for so long, she supposes; when you’ve seen so many things, it’s hard not to feel a deja vue about everything. Even her own death, while unfortunate, had not been surprising. Morgan had always known that passing away peacefully was not an option for her.

Still, it seems that she has not grown fully immune to bafflement. “Come again?”

Sir Kyrielight swallows hard. She’s beet-red, wringing her hands nervously. Still, she does not break eye contact. “I said I love you.”

The sentence does not make any more sense the second time around. Morgan rotates it in her brain, tears it apart. I. This one is easy; it refers to Mash, the speaker. Love. An action and an emotion all at once- the thing Mash is presumably doing, or feeling. You. Morgan is the only one in the room. It can only refer to her.

I love you. Three words that do not fit together. One of them has to be wrong, surely. Misheard or misunderstood. If Mash loves someone, it certainly cannot be Morgan- cannot be this wretched witch willing to burn the world down for her goals. If Morgan is loved, it certainly cannot be by Mash- this knight of virtue and courage who stands by the human order. And if Mash and Morgan have anything between the two of them, it certainly cannot be love. Hate, perhaps. Comfort, if one is generous. But love? Love. Love. L, o, v, e. Barely even a word. Just four letters stacked together. A simple sound with no meaning. 

“As a… friend?” While still odd, this would make more sense than what Morgan initially interpreted. Yes, this must be what Sir Kyrielight had meant; that she held fondness for Morgan, and wanted to make it known.

Except, no. The knight shakes her head. “No. Romantically.”

And now Morgan is back to square one. “... Sir Kyrielight, are you certain you are not mistaken? Emotions can be hard to tell apart. You could not be blamed for mixing them up.”

She meant for her words to be comforting, but Sir Kyrielight’s gaze turns into a glare. While Morgan is not unaccustomed to the knight’s anger, she doesn’t recall ever seeing it directed towards her.

“ Queen of Winter, ” Morgan always takes care to use proper titles when addressing others. It’s only polite. Yet, somehow, having Mash refer to her by her title feels… uncomfortable. “You can reject me. You can ignore me. You can pretend I never said anything. But I will not allow you to deny my feelings.”

She walks up to Morgan. Sir Kyrielight is a full head shorter than her; but right now, back straight, fury in her eyes, that does not make her any less imposing. “I love you. Deal with it however you want, but that, that’s a fact.”

*****

“You told her what?! ”

Slowly, Morgan sets down her teacup. “It seemed like a logical conclusion at the time.”

“You and your logic.” Habetrot rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Morgan, listen to me. Love is an emotion. By definition, it is not rational. If Mash loves you, it’s not for something as simple as the sum of your parts. It’s because you’re you.”

Nonsense. Emotions may not be rational, but they’re still somewhat grounded in reality. What could there possibly be in Morgan that could inspire love? “I know not what to do with her love.”

“You don’t have to do anything with it.”Habetrot sighs. “It’s easy. If you love her back, tell her so, and the two of you can become merry brides together. If you don’t, tell her so, and she will nurse her broken heart on her own. You only really got two options here.”

Fair enough. “How do I know if I love her, then?”

Slowly, very slowly, Habetrot blinks.

“... Love,” she articulates carefully, as if talking to a child, “is an emotion. It’s something close to joy. When a bride gets close to her chosen groom, she gets so happy there are stars in her eyes. It’s a fire inside the soul, fluttering like birds inside one’s belly.”

… That seems a bit dramatic. Can emotions truly be so intense? Morgan has her doubts.

“So. Do you love her?”

Morgan thinks. She thinks hard. “... She makes me very happy.” She doesn’t know if this is love- but if nothing else, that part, she’s sure of.

Habetrot pinches the bridge of her nose. “Okay, this isn’t working. Let’s try something else.”

*****

“- and she sent me to you.”

Sir Barghest pauses, midway through stirring her stew. “To… explain love to you?”

Morgan nods. “Indeed. You are the most knowledgeable on that subject.”

“Your faith in me flatters me, your majesty.” The knight turns back to her stew. “Love is… a want. A hunger, of sorts. When you love someone, you want to be with them. The want can be more specific- wanting to kiss them, or make love to them- but generally speaking you just… want them.”

She reaches out to grab some spices. She does not look at Morgan. “It can be a terrible thing. Sometimes you want someone so badly you want to devour them. Sometimes love reduces you to something lower than an animal.”

She sprinkles some ginger in the broth. “But sometimes… love is what prompts you to become a better person. You want to be worthy of the person you love. You want to be good enough for them. And that part is wonderful, I believe.”

Hm. An interesting perspective. “Is it worth it? To love someone when you know you can very well be their doom?”

“Yes.” Sir Barghest does not hesitate even a second. “It is worth it. It has to be worth it. What would be, otherwise?”

If Sir Gawain of Many Lovers is saying it- then there must be some wisdom in that statement, even if Morgan doubts it.

Sir Barghest pauses once more, for a couple seconds. Then she turns to look at Morgan. “Your majesty,” she asks carefully, “what do you want?”

What does she want? She wants to spend more time with Sir Kyrielight, that much is undeniable. If she thinks more about it- she would be amenable to physical affection, even. Sir Kyrielight had hugged her a couple times, it had left her skin tingly all over for hours. Morgan can’t imagine what a kiss would do to her.

But… for all the things Morgan can and will do, she does not believe she is capable of change. She’d tried, she really did- tried to be a savior, tried to be the kind one, tried to be the helpful one. She couldn’t. Her role is that of a witch, and nothing, no one- not herself, not Totrot, not (Ma-) (Fairy knight Ga-) (her frien-) Uther could change that. Morgan’s desires weigh little in the matter. Sir Kyrielight can not make Morgan better than she is. Remains the question of whether Morgan is capable of becoming worse.

*****

“So, Mash is in love with you, and you’re in love with her, but you’re worried about dragging her down?”

Morgan quirks up an eyebrow. “I did not say that. I am unsure as to whether I love her or not.”

Her spouse makes a strange face. Whatever emotion this is meant to convey, she cannot figure it out. “... Anyways. I don’t really see why you worry so much. Mash wouldn’t have confessed to you if she didn’t think she could handle you.”

“Sir Kyrielight is a virtuous person. She would offer a second chance to anyone claiming to want one. It is possible she has not yet realized that I am not a person who can be saved.”

Fujimaru frowns. “You think her naive.”

“I did not say that.”

“Kind of the vibe you’re giving off here though.”

“ I did not say that. ” Ah, now is a feeling Morgan recognizes- she’s irritated. “I, more than anyone else,know the things Sir Kyrielight has endured. I am well aware that she’s witnessed humane horrors the likes of which can never be put into words. I am merely worried that she might not realize these awful things can apply to me as well.”

Her spouse doesn’t reply immediately. For a few seconds, they only stare, before folding their hands under their chin. “What is love to you?”

Morgan has no idea. Her love for Britain overpowered everything else. She does not know what it means to love a person- if that’s something she has ever experienced in the first place. “I am told it’s a feeling, or a desire.”

Fujimaru makes a noncommittal noise. “That is true. However, I would like to offer you another point of view: love is an action.”

That is a widely different definition indeed. “Elaborate.”

“ Love is a verb, first and foremost. It’s the act of looking at someone. I don’t mean with your eyes. I mean truly looking at someone. Seeing them for everything they are- the good and the bad, the flaws and the virtues, the beautiful bits and the ugly ones. It’s the act of acknowledging someone’s whole self, including the parts that are inconvenient to you, and refusing to flinch.”

“You believe love to be the act of unconditional acceptance?”

“Essentially.” Huh. How very in character of them. “When Mash says she loves you, I don’t think she believes you to be pristine clean. I think she believes you worthy of staining her hands.”

“This seems mildly worrying.”

“And who are you to dictate her choices? You’re not her queen.” That statement hurts more than Morgan thought it would, though she would be incapable to spell out why it does. “She made her choice. She chose you. You can’t deny her that. All you can do is make your own choice: do you want to take her hand?”

“There is little risk in doing so.” If Morgan is everything that is evil in this world, then Sir Kyrielight is easily all that is good in this world. If such a thing as a savior can truly exist, then this is what Sir Kyrielight is.

“You think so? She makes mistakes too, you know. She’s quite soft-hearted. She hates fighting. That makes some decisions very difficult for her. Can you accept that? And if you do: can you accept that you will see her getting hurt over this, and you will not be able to help her?”

“Obviously.” The words tumble out of Morgan’s mouth by themselves. “None of these are flaws. Why wouldn’t I be willing to smear her blood on my hands?”

Her spouse smiles. “And you say you’re unsure if you love her back.”

… Ah.

“Apologies.” Morgan gets up suddenly, straightening her dress. “It seems like I need to have a conversation with Sir Kyrielight, and it cannot wait.”

The last thing she hears as she crosses the doorstep is “sweep her off her feet!”

*****

Morgan finds Sir Kyrielight inside her room. Rather predictably, in fact- and it’s a wonder that it took Morgan so long to realize that most people do not have her schedule memorized.

“Sir Kyrielight.” She says, standing in the doorway. “Mash. We need to talk.”

She startles when Morgan uses her first name. How cute. Still, Morgan cannot let herself be distracted now. She walks through the room to sit next to Mash. “I have done a lot of thinking.”

“Ah.” Sir Ky- Mash casts her gaze down. “Come to reject me, then?”

Morgan allows herself a huff of irritation. “Do not put words inside my mouth. When I am done, you may take back your confession, you may chase me out of your room, but I will not allow you to misinterpret my words.”

She extends a hand to set it on top of Mash’s. The knight jolts, but does not take her hand away. Hopefully, this is a good sign.

“I am somewhat… disconnected, from my emotions.” She brings Mash’s hand to her chest. “My heart is that of a witch. It curses panhuman history. It is cold as the winters of my long-gone Britain.”

Her free hand reaches out to cup Mash’s face. “But it’s yours, shall you accept it.”

There is a single second of silence following her statement, Mash staring at her with wide eyes- and then the knight suddenly collides with her chest, wrapping both arms around her. “Of course I’ll take it. I’ll take everything you are willing to give me.”

Warmth spreads under Morgan’s skin. Softly, she returns the embrace. “It is most unwise of you… but most welcome, nonetheless.”

“I don’t care. I’ve been wise for too long. This is me being selfish. I want you, all of you. I don’t care if it’s rotten in here. I want you down to the marrow.”

With that phrasing, it almost sounds like cannibalism. Is this what Sir Barghest meant? When she said love could turn one into an animal? (Did her lovers feel as flattered as Morgan is? To know that there is someone out there who would rather cram her inside their ribcage than letting her go?)

“There is much I am willing to give.” With no Britain left to protect, no duty to uphold- Morgan now belongs to the stranger that is herself. She can afford to give things away. “But for now… perhaps your hand in mine?”

Mash tilts her head up, staring straight at Morgan. She’s crying, Morgan realizes. She’s smiling too, though. “Yes… yes, that would be nice.”

[bleuts]

RETROSPECTIVE FRANCAIS - ENGLISH

Entre les chapitres d'histoire j'aime bien me plonger dans des petits projets. Durant ma dernière pause j'ai commencé une restrospective de l'histoire du côté/point de vue d'Öta. Je ferais la suite à la prochaine pause.

Du coup je vous met deja tout ce que j'avais fais, avec les dessins fait spécialement pour l'occasion ! J'ai mis une version google traduction du texte pour les non-français ?

Désolé pour la qualité de la traduction j'espère que ce sera compréhensible ! Quand j'aurais fini la partie Öta, je ferais celle de David :)

TW: mention of sexual abuse and suicide.

Between story chapters, I like to immerse myself in small projects. During my last break, I started a retrospective of the story from Ota's perspective. I'll continue on my next break.

So, I'm already posting everything I did, along with the drawings I did especially for the occasion! I've included a Google Translate version of the text for those who don't speak French.

Sorry for the poor translation quality, I hope it's understandable!

When I finish the Öta part, I'll do the David part :)

Öta naquit à Morthebois, une région sombre réputée pour pratiquer l’ancienne culture du Nord, des traditions oubliées depuis longtemps par le reste du royaume.

Fils du seigneur de Morthebois, il fut bercé depuis sa plus tendre enfance par les légendes de son peuple.

Tout ce qui se rapportait à la tradition et aux vieux mythes du nord le passionnait, et il n’hésitait pas à en parler des heures avec son meilleur ami : David.

-

Öta was born in Morthebois, a dark region renowned for practicing the ancient culture of the North, traditions long since forgotten by the rest of the kingdom.

Son of the Lord of Morthebois, he was steeped in the legends of his people from his earliest childhood.

Everything related to the traditions and ancient myths of the North fascinated him, and he would spend hours discussing them with his best friend, David.

Bien qu'il fût le fils d'un seigneur, le meilleur ami d'Öta était un esclave, et c’est ensemble qu’ils avaient grandi, inséparables et fusionnels.

Lorsqu’ils atteignirent l’âge adulte, David fut libéré. Öta choisit aussitôt de l’accompagner dans un long voyage à la recherche de ses origines.

Quand David trouva enfin un nouveau foyer, ils se séparèrent pour la première fois, se promettant de se retrouver rapidement.

Mais cette promesse ne fut pas tenue.

-

Although he was the son of a lord, Öta's best friend was a slave, and they grew up together, inseparable.

When they reached adulthood, David was freed. Öta immediately chose to accompany him on a long journey in search of his origins.

When David finally found a new home, they parted ways for the first time, promising to reunite soon.

But this promise was not kept.

Lorsqu’Öta retourna enfin chez lui, de mauvaises nouvelles l’attendaient. Sa mère avait été bannie, et était morte seule loin du domaine de Morthebois.

Son père lui révéla alors les raisons qui l’avaient poussé à libérer David : son ami avait subi des sévices durant de longues années, abusé en secret par la mère d’Öta.

Son monde s’écroula. Dès lors, il se sentit honteux de n’avoir rien vu. Il se renferma sur lui-même, rongé par la culpabilité. Et finalement, il décida de partir.

-

When Öta finally returned home, bad news awaited him. His mother had been banished and died alone far from the Morthebois estate.

His father then revealed the reasons that had led him to free David: his friend had suffered abuse for many years, secretly abused by Öta's mother.

His world collapsed. From then on, he felt ashamed of having seen nothing. He withdrew into himself, consumed by guilt. And finally, he decided to leave.

Après plusieurs lunes passées à errer seul, se laissant peu à peu dépérir, il croisa la route d’Alda et Élan, un couple d’herboristes qui allait transformer sa vie.

Ils le prirent sous leur aile, lui offrant des espoirs et un rêve. Öta se découvrit une passion et une raison de vivre. Comme eux, il voulait aider son prochain. Il devint ainsi leur apprenti.

Ce fut lors de cette année à leurs côtés qu’il découvrit la magie. Élan la pratiquait en secret et souhaitait enseigner cet art à Öta.

-

After several moons spent wandering alone, slowly letting himself waste away, he crossed paths with Alda and Élan, a herbalist couple who would transform his life.

They took him under their wing, offering him hope and a dream. Öta discovered a passion and a reason for living. Like them, he wanted to help others. He thus became their apprentice.

It was during this year spent with them that he discovered magic. Élan practiced it in secret and wished to teach this art to Öta.

Mais dès l’instant où il commença à pratiquer la magie, des feuilles commencèrent à pousser sur les bras d’Öta. Des feuilles héréditaires aux étranges vertus, qui se transmettaient aux mages de sa lignée.

Son corps réagissait à la magie et ce n’était pas pour lui déplaire. Öta les aimait, car il se sentait étrangement complet avec elles.

Cependant, la magie était interdite dans le royaume. Ces feuilles, Öta n’avait pas d’autre choix que de les cacher. Il les camouflait sous des vêtements et des bandages.

Ce fut après de nombreuses et longues recherches, aidé par Élan et son oncle Üter, qu’il découvrit que, correctement utilisées, ses feuilles avaient la capacité de renforcer les propriétés de toutes plantes avec lesquelles elles pouvaient être en contact.

Prenant cela pour un signe, Öta décida de chérir ce cadeau du destin. Mais ce n’était que le début d’une longue recherche sur la vérité derrière leur origine.

D’où venaient-elles réellement ?

-

But from the moment he began practicing magic, leaves began to grow on Öta's arms. Hereditary leaves with strange properties, which were passed down to the mages of his lineage. His body reacted to magic, and he didn't mind. Öta loved them, for they made him feel strangely complete. However, magic was forbidden in the kingdom. Öta had no choice but to hide these leaves. He camouflaged them under clothing and bandages. It was after much lengthy research, aided by Élan and his uncle Üter, that he discovered that, when used properly, these leaves had the ability to enhance the properties of any plant they came into contact with. Taking this as a sign, Öta decided to cherish this gift of fate. But it was only the beginning of a long search for the truth behind their origin. Where did they really come from?

Durant les nombreuses lunes où Öta avait cherché les origines de ses feuilles, il était retourné vivre auprès de son père, à Morthebois.

Ce fut à cette occasion qu’il reçut une lettre très importante : sa famille était conviée à la célébration de Mortherbe, une grande cérémonie qui n’avait lieu que tous les quinze ans. Elle se déroulait dans un très ancien village, qui avait juré fidélité à la famille maternelle d’Öta.

Cette célébration servait à honorer leur divinité locale, une Abonde nommée la Dame de Mortherbe, et à renouveler le pacte qui l’unissait au seigneur des terres.

Ni le père ni le grand-père d’Öta ne comptait y participer. Il s’y rendit donc sans eux, acceptant d’endosser le rôle de seigneur, et participa à la cérémonie avec une grande fierté. Il offrit pieusement son sang et ses prières à la Dame de Mortherbe.

Ce souvenir resta gravé dans sa mémoire, car Öta en était certain : durant l’offrande, il avait senti la présence de la Dame auprès de lui.

-

During the many moons that Öta had searched for the origins of his leaves, he had returned to live with his father in Morthebois. It was on this occasion that he received a very important letter: his family was invited to the celebration of Mortherbe, a grand ceremony that only took place every fifteen years. It took place in a very old village, which had sworn loyalty to Öta's maternal family. This celebration served to honor their local deity, an Abondance named the Lady of Mortherbe, and to renew the pact that united him with the lord of the lands. Neither Öta's father nor his grandfather intended to participate. So he went without them, agreeing to take on the role of lord, and participated in the ceremony with great pride. He piously offered his blood and his prayers to the Lady of Mortherbe. This memory remained etched in his mind, because Öta was certain: during the offering, he had felt the presence of the Lady beside him.

Par la suite, Öta poursuivit son apprentissage aux côtés d’Élan et Alda, qui venaient d’avoir un enfant et l’avaient choisi pour en être le parrain.

Ensemble, ils se rendirent dans la capitale du Royaume, GemmeNoire.

Il y fit la rencontre de Jol, la fille des herboristes. La jeune femme était amoureuse d’un garçon des rues nommé Nora, mais cachait sa relation à ses parents.

Orphelin, ce dernier vivait avec sa sœur cadette Merry dans une vieille maison abandonnée des bas quartiers. Ils survivaient grâce aux vols et à de petites escroqueries.

Le courant passa aussitôt entre lui et Öta, qui décidèrent de se revoir.

-

Afterward, Öta continued his apprenticeship alongside Élan and Alda, who had just had a child and had chosen him to be the child's godfather.

Together, they traveled to the Kingdom's capital, GemmeNoire.

There he met Jol, the herbalists' daughter. The young woman was in love with a street boy named Nora, but hid their relationship from her parents.

An orphan, the latter lived with his younger sister Merry in an old abandoned house in the slums. They survived by stealing and petty scams.

He and Öta immediately hit it off, and they decided to meet again.

Mais le lendemain d’une soirée alcoolisée où Nora lui avait fait des avances, une dispute éclata.

Comprenant qu’il avait failli se laisser aller dans les bras de Nora alors que ce dernier était déjà en couple, Öta ne cacha pas son intention de dire la vérité à Jol.

Nora s’y opposa aussitôt, menaçant Öta avec brutalité.

Öta tenta de prévenir Jol du vrai visage de celui qu’elle aimait, mais elle refusa d’écouter ses avertissements.

Cette période fut sombre, parsemée d’un encha��nement de mauvaises décisions qui les mena inexorablement vers des altercations de plus en plus violentes.

-

But the day after a drunken evening where Nora had made advances toward him, an argument broke out. Realizing that he had almost let himself fall into Nora's arms while the latter was already in a relationship, Öta made no secret of his intention to tell Jol the truth. Nora immediately opposed this, brutally threatening Öta. Öta tried to warn Jol about the true face of the man she loved, but she refused to listen to his warnings. It was a dark period, punctuated by a series of bad decisions that led them inexorably to increasingly violent altercations.

Las de cette situation, Öta se confia à Élan. L’homme, qui ne savait rien de la relation entre sa fille et Nora, réagit avec colère. Sans réfléchir, il agressa le voleur.

Ce jour-là, Nora perdit son œil. Pris dans l’altercation, Öta l’avait éborgné en tentant de se défendre.

Il s’en voulut aussitôt : il n’avait jamais souhaité blesser personne. Son désir avait toujours été d’aider son prochain, et non de lui nuire.

Mais Élan ne partageait pas ses remords, bien au contraire. Ce fut ces événements qui poussèrent Öta à s’éloigner de lui et de sa famille quelque temps, pour prendre du recul.

-

Tired of this situation, Öta confided in Élan. The man, who knew nothing about his daughter's relationship with Nora, reacted angrily. Without thinking, he attacked the thief. That day, Nora lost her eye. Caught up in the altercation, Öta had blinded him while trying to defend himself. He immediately blamed himself: he had never wanted to hurt anyone. His desire had always been to help others, not harm them. But Élan didn't share his remorse; quite the opposite. It was these events that pushed Öta to distance himself and his family for a while, to gain perspective.

Lorsqu'Öta décida de prendre ses distances, Alda lui présenta Petrus.

C'était un homme bon qui travaillait comme médecin dans un hospice, et qui dédiait ses nuits à aider bénévolement un refuge clandestin.

Petrus prit aussitôt Öta sous son aile, lui enseignant la médecine et l’invitant à travailler à ses côtés. La misère, la faim, la mort… être confronté à tout cela au quotidien était parfois pesant, mais Öta ne fut pas découragé pour autant. Le temps passa et il se prit à aimer ce travail.

Travaillant de jour à l’hospice, et de nuit au refuge, il se consacrait tout particulièrement à ce dernier, s’occupant avec bienveillance des âmes qui lui étaient confiées.

-

When Öta decided to distance himself, Alda introduced him to Petrus.

He was a kind man who worked as a doctor in a hospice and dedicated his nights to volunteering at an illegal shelter.

Petrus immediately took Öta under his wing, teaching him medicine and inviting him to work alongside him. Poverty, hunger, death… facing all this on a daily basis was sometimes overwhelming, but Öta wasn't discouraged. Time passed, and he grew to love his work.

Working by day at the hospice and by night at the shelter, he devoted himself particularly to the latter, caring kindly for the souls entrusted to his care.

Mais tout bascula lorsqu’un nouveau patient lui fut amené. Un homme avait tenté de se donner la mort en se jetant d’un pont. Un homme qu’Öta ne connaissait que trop bien… Nora.

Öta le sauva, mais en l’examinant, il se rendit compte que ce dernier se droguait avec de la magie noire. Il lui avoua ainsi avoir perdu l'esprit au point d'agresser sa propre petite sœur sous ses effets.

Refusant de l’aider plus longtemps, et de peur d’attirer des ennuis à ses autres patients, Öta le chassa.

Tout aurait pu s’arrêter là, mais le lendemain, une ombre se faufila dans le refuge.

Cette nuit-là, Öta fit la rencontre de Tyra, une ancienne compagne de Nora qui le cherchait depuis plusieurs jours.

Öta la guida jusque la maison abandonnée où il vivait. Ce fut ainsi qu’ensemble, ils découvrirent le corps du jeune homme.

Nora s’était donné la mort.

-

But everything changed when a new patient was brought in. A man had attempted suicide by jumping off a bridge. A man Öta knew only too well… Nora. Öta saved him, but upon examining him, he realized that the man was using dark magic. He confessed to her that he had lost his mind to the point of assaulting his own little sister while under its influence. Refusing to help him any longer, and fearing trouble for his other patients, Öta chased him away. Everything could have ended there, but the next day, a shadow slipped into the shelter. That night, Öta met Tyra, one of Nora's former companions who had been looking for him for several days. Öta guided her to the abandoned house where he lived. It was thus that together, they discovered the young man's body. Nora had killed herself.

Côtoyant la mort régulièrement depuis qu’il travaillait avec Petrus, Öta s’était suffisamment endurci pour faire face à ce drame. Ainsi, la découverte du corps de Nora fut troublante, mais Öta parvint à garder son calme.

Ce fut aidé de Tyra, à qui il avait offert de rester quelque temps au refuge le temps qu'elle se remette du choc, qu'Öta tenta de retrouver la sœur de Nora. Cette dernière avait disparu depuis son agression.

L’enquête les mena jusque la famille d’Élan, qui avait recueilli la jeune fille. Depuis qu’il avait pris ces distances avec eux, Öta n’avait plus eu de nouvelles.

Que s’était-il passé durant son absence ?

Qu’avaient-ils vécu ?

Si cela avait conduit au suicide de Nora, il n’était pas certain de vouloir le savoir.

Les retrouvailles avec Alda furent chaleureuses, mais celles avec Élan furent étranges. Öta n'était pas prêt à le revoir aussi tôt. Il sentait au plus profond de lui que ce ne serait plus jamais pareil.

Quelque chose s’était brisé entre eux.

-

Having been in regular contact with death since working with Petrus, Öta had hardened himself enough to cope with this tragedy. Thus, the discovery of Nora's body was disturbing, but Öta managed to remain calm. It was with the help of Tyra, to whom he had offered to stay for a while at the shelter while she recovered from the shock, that Öta tried to find Nora's sister. She had disappeared since her attack. The investigation led them to Élan's family, who had taken the young girl in. Since he had distanced himself from them, Öta had not heard from them. What had happened during his absence? What had they experienced? If it had led to Nora's suicide, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The reunion with Alda was warm, but the one with Élan was strange. Ota wasn't ready to see him again so soon. He felt deep down that it would never be the same again. Something had broken between them.

Ces événements rapprochèrent peu à peu Öta et Tyra, qui décidèrent de se revoir par la suite. Ils se donnèrent rendez-vous à plusieurs reprises et passèrent quelques nuits ensemble.

Cette étrange relation, à laquelle ils ne donnaient pas de nom, était exactement ce dont ils avaient besoin pour s’évader.

Tyra était une femme très mystérieuse, appartenant à un peuple qui se cachait dans l’ombre de la capitale. Elle était une Abarianne, l'enfant d'une culture qui était interdite dans le royaume.

Öta avait déjà rencontré des membres de ce peuple durant ses voyages, et n'avait aucun préjugé à leur sujet. C'est pour cela que malgré leur différences, ils pouvaient parler ensemble de leurs croyances durant des heures.

Leur curiosité insatiable leur offrait de nombreux sujets de discussions, que ce soit autour des légendes ... ou de la magie. Car Tyra, tout comme Öta, pratiquait cette dernière. Une forme de magie tout aussi méprisée par le Nord que sa culture, la magie du sang.

-

These events gradually brought Öta and Tyra closer together, and they decided to meet again later. They arranged to meet several times and spent a few nights together.

This strange relationship, to which they gave no name, was exactly what they needed to escape.

Tyra was a very mysterious woman, belonging to a people who hid in the shadows of the capital. She was an Abarian, the child of a culture that was forbidden in the kingdom.

Öta had already met members of this people during his travels and had no prejudices about them. That's why, despite their differences, they could talk together about their beliefs for hours.

Their insatiable curiosity offered them many topics of discussion, whether about legends… or magic. For Tyra, like Öta, practiced the latter. A form of magic as despised by the North as its culture, blood magic.

A SUIVRE / TO BE CONTINUED

[ladylooch]

Can we get a sweet blurb of Lio and Sav?

Savannah tries not to acknowledge the deja vue of knocking on the door of Lio’s apartment again. Last time she was here, he opened the door drunk off his ass with some girl who’s name he couldn’t remember on his couch. 

She purses her lips, breathing through the anxious tingles bubbling in her chest. 

A sick, Lio Meier opens the door slowly, coughing into the blanket tossed over his shoulders. 

“Sav?” Lio squints out into the disturbing light of the hallway. 

“Hi Lio.” She murmurs, taking him in. He looks terrible. HIs nose is red, his hair is wild and matted. He looks like he hasn’t had a shower in a couple of days. When she heard from the Devils coach that Lio would be out with an illness for a few more days, she couldn’t help but stop by. She knows him and Lucie aren’t speaking. Liv is out of town visiting Luca. She is worried no one is around to take care of him.

Despite everything that has happened between them, that doesn’t sit right with her.

“Can I come in?”

“You shouldn’t. I’m down bad.” He coughs out, then gingerly clears his throat, wincing. 

“I heard. I have some things that will help.” She holds up a reusable grocery bag filled with things. He stares at it, then brings his tired gaze back to her face. 

“Why?”

“Because I care about you.” She says simply. Lio shakes his head sullenly. 

“I think you might be the only one.”

“That’s not true.” She insists. She wonders if she should tell him Lucie was the one who told her what to bring over for him. She decides not to, fearing that will make everything worse between them. Lucie had sounded heartbroken on the phone with Sav earlier in the day. Sav could tell she was crying.

“Any whiskey in there?”

“No, but I do have orange juice!”

“That is… not the same?” 

“Well it’s all you’ll be drinking for a few days. You need the vitamins. Fresh squeezed too.” Lio chuckles despite the pounding in his head. 

“Okay, what else?”

“Cough drops.” She tosses them to him. He immediately opens the bag to pop one in his mouth. “And tea.” He wrinkles his nose. “With honey for your throat. Chicken noodle soup… homemade because I heard you hate the noodles from the can.” Savannah watches Lio’s face register that. They say nothing else about who would have told her. “Pedylate, immunity vitamins, Haagen Daz, and biscotti from the bakery in Jersey City.” 

This whole pack screams Lucie to Lio. But this perfect woman who he fucked up so gravely with is the one delivering it. Maybe she’s starting to forgive him… 

“Thank you. I.. really appreciate this. I have no idea what to do when I’m sick.”

“You’re welcome.” Savannah pushes the pile of stuff towards him. They pause together, not quite sure what else to do. 

“Sav…” It’s a whisper that barely reaches her ears. “Would you please stay with me for a bit? We don’t have to talk or anything, but I don’t want to be alone.”

“Sure.” Savannah nods. “I’ll heat up some soup for you. Go sit down.” 

[headstrongblake]

“and here i thought i knew everything about you.” / kassy & nick / @thewholecrew

nicklas wiggled his eyebrows, smirking as he shook his head at her sarcasm. she did know everything about him. well. sort of. she knew pretty much everything over the past year or so. who he was since he'd formed a new family and that's the person who mattered anyway. not who he'd been. or what people were part of that world before he found himself here with this family.

" yeah well, big sis likes to make an entrance, she's always had a flare for the dramatics, remind you of anyone? " he asked, a smirk growing wider on his features as he bumped his elbow against kassy's arm at his new bar top.

without any more explanations for the blonde woman who'd come and gone through their nearly ready night club, nicklas set back to work looking over the bar's stock, with kassy behind him on the bar top. if he closed his eyes, it felt exactly like his first home. except for the fact he can feel her eyes burrowing into him, feel a sort of tension looming in the air. " i can see the smoke rising from down here, kass. " he muttered with his back to her, ticking off a few points in his paperwork before he stood. " hey, don't go anywhere dark... it feels like deja vue but it's not, ok? sam...her showin' up isn't trouble for any of us. " not like jacob had been.

[adam-apple-murray]

Huuuuh.. That house... I could've sworn I saw that house before.. But can't remember crap-

Oh! Weird.. Maybe it's one of those Deja-Vue dreams? Like those uh, pictures that a lot of people recognize but never went to the place in the picture

*Adam shrugged as he talked lmao

[devilbreaker]

@smokinstyle said "you seem to make a lot of enemies around here."

it's almost like he's having a sort of deja vue right now, dante wanted to meet him somewhere, he got overwhelmed with the cheer amount of people coming for him and just got sidetracked. an errand or two to do and there he finally was in front of dante, a lot more blood than what he had when he met vergil though.

nero shrugs "really feel like i've been here before already, demons just keep coming after me over and over and i just fight them off because what else are you supposed to do dante"

[yeannotanalien]

Alr, gave my pirate a friend. I introduce construction worker,

She may or may not be hiding kitty cat features under that hat. In this world I'm setting up hybrids (animal, monster, elven, or other) are illegal in the city along with magic. So basically both are criminals in some way. Too bad their government is corrupt muhahaha.

Also I gave pirate an eye patch for backstory purposes. The idea is that these two met in the past (and live together. They watch movies together and paint each others nails) and when they only recently moved in together there were death games that somewhat were dreams but also not. And in the end the two were left and only one could win so construction died and pirate jumped off (third life may be my inspiration).

Everyone in the death games ended up waking up unharmed back in their apartments with no memories of it whatsoever. Expect since pirate techinally won because she was last to die, she remembered and a majority of her non life threatening injuries stayed. She only vaguely remembers it though and has sorta heightened senses of paranoia when something bad happens from it. Anyways she knows it's real but doesn't want to seem crazy by telling people, and construction worker does have flashbacks sometimes and deja vue from it. The closer you were to winning the more you remember.

Anyways I hope you like pirate girls friend! Thinking of naming them but im not sure. And on an unrelated note I lost my drawing glove so i cut up a sock and hot glued it to make a glove. I'm so smart (totally didnt burn my finger by accident).

[technicallyjollyobject]

Chapter 3 of Sour Droplets!

[Chapter 3 - A cold glass of water]

“Kanade huh? That’s a nice name.” An replied, her lips pursing into a smile.

“Thank you, my parents chose that name for me before I was born.” Kanade responded, giving her name a bit more context. “What’s yours?”

An realized that her name meant to “play music” or “preform”. It rose several more questions in her head, but she just settled on giving Kanade her name.

“I’m An. An Shirashi.” She replied, putting her cup on top of a canned cup of ramen sitting in an open cardboard box. “Thank you for bringing me here, I’m sorry you have to take care of me like this.”

Kanade shook her head, her hair swaying to both sides. “Please don’t apologize Mrs. An.” She replied, acting formal. “You were unconscious and injured on the ground, anyone would’ve done the same.”

An smiled faintly at her kindness, feeling her heart soothe from the warmth. However she couldn’t help but think about Kanade’s words. Would anyone else really have done the same?

“Well thank you anyway Mrs. Kanade.” An replied as the air conditioner buzzed in the background, chilling the room. It was obvious Kanade had it on constantly so she’d be at the right temperature, since she was also wearing sweats to counteract the chill.

“It’s my pleasure.” Kanade’s calm voice responded as if it was covered in silk. “But there’s no need to you such formalities with me, you can just call me Kanade.”

An felt it was interesting that Kanade was warming up to her so fast, but maybe she didn’t interact with others much, so she was just eager to make friends. However even though An had likely been awake and resting in this room for around 5 minutes, she knew nothing about it aside from the boxes of ramen in front of the bed. So feeling curious An let her eyes drift, observing the room. And it wasn’t long before her eyes landed in the keyboard set up infront of the closed curtains.

“…Hey Kanade, do you make music?” An couldn’t help but ask, catching Kanade off guard.

Soon though Kanade regained her composure and responded in that usual tranquil voice of hers. “Yes I do.” Kanade answered, even though An wouldn’t have believed her if she had said no. “However I’m stuck on the melody of one of my songs. Would you mind listening to it?”

An couldn’t help but feel her curiosity grow at the idea of one of Kanade’s tracks. She seemed so inexpressive and introverted that it gave off an aura that she worked under an alias.

“Sure I don’t mind, I work with music all the time. I’m sure I can help you figure something out.” An responded, feeling Deja-vue from when Toya wrote Hollow.

In response Kanade just softly smiled. “Oh you do? That’s great.” She said, moving over to her computer set-up pressed against her left bedroom wall. “I’ve been working on this song for a while now, but the melody always seems a bit off. I’ve tried refining the guitar and heightening the pitch but it always seems like something’s missing…” Kanade trailed off as if she didn’t know what to say, then clicked the play button with her mouse.

And as the graceful song flowed through Kanade’s attached speakers, An’s eyes widened.

This song!!!

[wyo-charles-too]

It’s hard out there for a man from the future

I will go on, most likely

As Deja Vue,

But my cloths will still be too baggy or tight,

For the style’s of the present.

Why does today always spit on me?

Seems it hates that I’m doing its job

instead of booking an Infinity Day/Infinity

Night Cruise that only its believers are

charged to board…

I’m busy, you buffoonish animals!!!

I need to synchronize with the Ancient

trapped in this vile second hand.

We have meetings and divergences to attend and the modern human is so passé.

A fool of coming days is on a mailbox and in a singlet

Screams and jumps for me to give up my dreams and

get a job for this America.

That bastard is somehow up the clock from even me.

[k00299539]

Movement Project Week 3 - Animation 01 - Trust the Process...

So like I wrote before, I expected to begin Week 3 actually participating in a Workshop and I feel the need here to preemptively defend myself a bit and mention that I did in fact show up on Monday morning. I even emailed Mary Conroy who suggested I join the workshop on Week 4 instead, so I'm hiding behind that excuse for the moment.

Anyway with all the workshops halfway through their two week block structure, I realised I could now only attend a maximum of two workshops for this project or in other words, I'd missed the boat on one entirely. And even though I love animation, it was also the easiest to do at home by myself and thus received the boot.

So now I just have to produce some animated work at home by myself to the standard of quality expected from a hands on workshop with expert tutors... walk in the park... :(

Above: Deja Vue

I guess the first thing to do is refer back to my mind map and explain my thought process here. I think by now as I write this at the end of Week 4, I've come to understand "The Spiral" as my central theme, but the dumber version of me who existed a week ago somehow beat around that bush without ever landing on that keyword. I was seriously drawing spiral staircases while still unable put words to my thesis. Anyway...

My train of thought basically went from "Kinetic/Parabolic/Geometric" to "Rotation" to "Spiral Staircase". This later led me to wider influence of the "Op Art" (or optical illusion art) world.

Above: You have no long how far back I had to scroll to find this again...

Actually looking back on I'm slightly abridging the timeline here, after all this was whopping week-ish ago. The staircase idea likely took seed in my head after seeing the above gif online by indie animator @PunchUsagi on Twitter. The quality of their work speaks for itself obviously, but it was less the stellar character acting that captured me and more the (seemingly) simple* five frame background animation loop of a camera tracking down a spiral staircase. You can even see how clearly my sketch above borrowed from this animation.

*definitely, absolutely, factually, 1000% NOT easy...

Trying to replicate PunchUsagi's work led to a couple of complications. First, I tried so many times to imitate this looping staircase effect but short of tracing I just couldn't get it right. Second, even though I know I've seen this kind of effect in animation before (Yu Yu Hakusho) I can't for the life of me track down any good reference material. Short of having some kind of Dewey Decimal ass brain for animated staircase scenes, there's really no good way to search this kind of thing.

So having (temporarily, at least) shelved that after a series of attempts, I moved on to similar but slightly less challenging prospect; animating a revolving staircase, except from a static, head-on view. I thought this would be a good exercise to stretch my 3D muscles in Blender as I'd never attempted to make anything like that before. I had a rock solid plan though, it was called "The Array Modifier"

Above: I tried to make a GIF where I would navigate to the array modifier as some sort of joke and then I actually couldn't find it cause Blender 4.0 changed the menu around...

Moving on...

Above: Behold the awesome power of the array modifier, master of stairs and making thereof...

So naturally I made a cylinder as the column of the stairs and a step whose height was an even divisor of the cylinders length to ensure an proper fit. At time I had no idea how engineers and architects measured the amount of steps need to encircle the circumference of the central column, and as you might accurately infer from that sentiment, was in over my head as a certified stair expert...

Above: That which precipitates the fall...

A column and a step, all I need now is my trusty, handy-dandy, 100% absolutely failproof companion; the array modifier...

What could go wrong?

Above: What went wrong...

Oh no.

So I realised that the array modifier is great for making straight, linear, decidedly not-curving stairs. Of course this clashed greatly with my idea of a y'know, spiral staircase. It was back to the drawing board...

Above: My saviour

But not for long! As this slightly outdated video showcased a method where you create an empty Plain Axes object at the centre-point of the cylinder and use that as the offset for the array modifier. I don't know why it wouldn't work using the cylinder as the offset value but I'm going to assume it has something to do with God challenging me.

So with that figured out we were home free...

Above: Why?

Oh No.

Basically this was a result of me not understanding the engineering or architectural design behind spiral staircases, as I alluded to earlier. In fact I've actually been recreating all the screenshots for this post cause I'm stupid and never document anything, and I actually couldn't even replicate this mistake at first. That's correct I am unable to succeed at failure...

Anyway the problem was that I failed to align the steps to the centremost point of the cylinder, which is necessary for it to coil properly. The other mistake I made while less important structurally was equally displeasing aesthetically. If you want the steps to perfectly encircle the circumference of the cylinder, you have to actually plan ahead and do the math to ensure that outcome. This particular math has already left my head (to make room for all my clever thoughts, no doubt) but this video by a real guy with actual qualifications sums it up better than I could:

Above: My other saviour

And finally we're on to the end result. I am now a master 3D staircase maker, capable of bending geometry to my will... I can also make little animations like this cool turnaround!

Above: Literal minutes of hard work...

Tumblr looks to be fucking up that video so I'll re-render it and try again tomorrow but for today I honestly can't be arsed.

Looking back I've probably spent too much time covering the "How?" and not enough covering the "Why?". I'll rectify that in a later post and get more into what I want to accomplish using spirals in animation, but for now you can probably gauge my overall mental energy level from the second half of the above paragraph's lone sentence. For now, me tired, me sleep.

[rileyjelliot]

"Works for me," he shrugged as he pushed the shopping cart that way, following closely by his sister. The feeling of deja vue had crashed over him a few times since being back home, and in this situation he liked feeling like a kid again. He had always been close with Georgia as well as his other siblings and being able to revisit those childhood activities now as an adult made him sentimental to be back. "I was thinking of maybe making mom's favorite?" @GeorgiaElliot

"Just back aisle and make our way down?" She suggested as she pulled out the list for what they were supposed to get for their parents and a few things she needed for her place. Shopping with Riley again made her feel like she was a kid again and it wasn't the first time the feeling had sprung up since her return to Kismet Harbor. "Yeah? What are you going to make?" @rileyjelliot