#maybe I'll add more tags later

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Triangulum - Prologue - The Shelduck's Game

— — — — — — —

All was still.

It had been still in that particular neck of the Gravity Falls woods for almost a full year.

The residents of the nearby town knew better than to venture too close, and their sentiments were shared by the beings—animal and supernatural alike—who had formerly occupied that part of the forest. Even the Manotaurs had long since abandoned their nearby man cave—and if even the self-proclaimed representations of manliness themselves wouldn’t dare approach the area, then the rest of the population was in no hurry to do the same.

Such stillness made every step from a pair of unknown feet more prominent, twigs and foliage snapping beneath them as their hooded owner moved swiftly through the underbrush. And despite the darkness of the night sky above—with only a few stray moonbeams through the leaves of the canopy layer acting as a light source—their pace was quick and undisturbed as they ventured deeper into the woods, only broken once they finally arrived at their destination.

A destination in the form of a triangle-shaped statue, half-embedded in the soft earth.

The forest had clearly made several attempts to claim it. Twisting vines had curled themselves around the limbs like the ribbons on a present, and the patches of stone that were usually exposed to the sun's rays during the day were now illuminated with a soft glow from the moon’s gentle gaze.

But despite nature’s best efforts, it still remained.

Remained with an open hand on a permanently-outstretched arm. 

Waiting for the day someone finally came along to make a deal.

The mysterious figure stood still for a few minutes, their gaze locked on the singular eye that made up most of the triangle’s face. And after another minute of staring, their footsteps—those still-shattering footsteps—began again, this time to close the gap between them and the statue.

And once that gap was properly closed, the figure’s own arm extended towards the statue—

—and an orange, feathered hand clasped around its stone one.

There was a faint spark in the triangle’s single eye—the first sign of life it had shown in months—before the figure vanished in a flash of light, that little bit of life fading back to nothing with their departure.

And much like the statue itself, all fell still again.

— — — — — — —

“You’re a real wise guy, but you made one fatal mistake! You messed with my family!”

“YOU’RE making a mistake! I’ll give you anything: money, fame, riches, infinite power, your own galaxy! PLEASE! NO! What’s HAPPENING to me?!”

“!NRUTER YAM I TAHT REWOP TNEICNA EHT EKOVNI I !NRUB OT EMOC SAH EMIT YM, L-T-O-L-O-X-A-”

“STAN-LEEEEEEY—”

The first thing Bill was able to process was the fact that he was still screaming.

The second was that he was able to scream at all.

Despite the lack of a mouth (or lungs, if some nerd wanted to get annoyingly technical with the anatomy of a triangle), Bill’s chest rose and fell at a hyperventilating pace, his singular pupil rapidly darting back and forth as he took in his surroundings.

He was lying flat on his back with his face pointed upwards, although a closer examination revealed that any attempt to label directions would be entirely pointless. 

Kinda hard to have an ‘up’ or ‘down’ when all that surrounded you was an endless, white void.

He rose up from what could be considered the ground, and hovered in place for a moment. It was the mindscape, that much he could deduce at a glance alone. And a grateful lack of the Mystery Shack living room—or a furious, elderly man about to shatter him like glass—implied it was highly unlikely that he was still inside the mind (or whatever was left of the mind) of Stanley Pines.

But if not his mindscape, then where—

“Oh, hey, you’re here!”

The sound of an unknown voice behind him spun Bill around in midair, with far less dignity than he would’ve preferred. “Hey pal, who d’you—think…”

Any potential anger that might’ve been building vanished in an instant as Bill got a good look at the peculiar being before him. 

First obvious thing of note was that they were clearly not human. Rather, they looked to be some sort of anthropomorphic duck or duck-like creature—similar to the ones from the dimensions with that annoying rat who liked to get a bit too pushy with how he ran things. Quantum Destabilizer to his head regarding the specific breed of duck, however—they were probably some kinda shelduck? He was pretty sure those had orange feathers.

They were also about five-feet tall by mortal measurements, and the garish color of their feathers was only outshined by their eccentric clothing choices. 

The first thing to draw Bill’s eye was their jacket; an extremely tacky windbreaker composed of a multitude of colors in light pastel shades. Paired alongside with a radically-patterned shirt, sporty red shades, and a necklace with a charm in the shape of an orange, they looked to be the poster child of the word ‘hideously tacky’. 

Either that, or ‘retro’. 

…Eh, he’d settle for ‘hideously retro.’ 

“Glad to see you’re up and about,” the duck continued as they took a few steps closer to him. “Honestly, I had no idea if shaking your hand was actually going to work, after everything that happened to you. I mean, getting set on fire? Shattered into pieces? Erased from existence?!”

They stopped and tapped their bill thoughtfully. “Plus there’s the fact that your actual resting place was somewhere completely different—” Their hand moved to the side of their mouth with a cheeky grin. “—and whew, buddy, as much as I wouldn’t mind waiting around for a man like ~that~ to get back to town, I have a million things I need to do today and don’t need to make it a million-and-one!”

Smiling wider, they reached up to nudge at him with their elbow. “Eh, eh, know what I mean?” they asked with a wink, before letting their arm fall again. “Nah, I guess you wouldn’t. The point is, it worked! Because here you are, back and better than ever!”

Before Bill could get even a word in, they raised a finger. “Okay, so I know you probably have a looooot of questions to ask,” they said, and began to tick off the remaining fingers on their hand. “Who am I? How I do know so much about you? Why did I bring you here in the first place?” 

The ticked off fingers morphed into a roll of the wrist. “Yadda, yadda, yadda, point is, you probably have a ton of questions that need answers. Well, lucky for you, that’s exactly what I’m here to do!”

A pause. “Well, not here here, we’ll have to wait until we’re actually in my office before I explain the situation more clearly,” they clarified. “Accidentally left all my flashcards and presentation material in there, and if I try to cover all the basics without ‘em, I know I’m going to forget something important. And that'd just be really inconvenient for everyone involved!”

Their smile widened. “But once we’re there, I promise I’ll tell you everything you need to know!”

They folded their hands together and stared at him, likely an indication that they were finished talking. And if that wasn’t enough, they quickly clarified with: “Sorry, I know that was probably a lot to take in, but I’m done for now if you have anything you wanna add.”

It took a lot to surprise Bill Cipher.

With his vast collection of knowledge, near-perfect omniscience, and countless other abilities that could bring whole dimensions to their knees, it was a rarity for him to come across anyone or anything that might actually catch him off guard.

All that aside—

—heh?

Credit where it was due, Birdbrain wasn’t wrong about the amount of questions currently bubbling around in his brain. Accuracy of their questions was also pretty spot on, although it didn’t take a genius to guess the answer of that last one.

There was only one reason anyone ever sought him out, and it wasn’t to trade fashion tips (although it was hardly necessary in this case; the guy looked like a sentient arcade carpet straight outta the Dimension That’s Perpetually Stuck In A Heavily Romanticized Version of the Mid-Eighties-Slash-Early-Nineties).

They were looking to make a deal.

If Bill had a mouth, he’d be smirking at the thought. Boy, back less than two minutes and he already had some chump lining up to make a deal with him, huh?

Had he suddenly transformed into a stupid human child leaving a medical checkup, one being rewarded for the state of their unimpressive and fragile immune system with a piece of cheap candy?

Because it sounded an awful lot like he was being handed a free sucker.

And while normally he’d snatch up a chance like that without a second thought—

"You made one fatal mistake..."

He tensed as Stan’s words forced themselves back to the front of his mind, along with the vivid memory that accompanied them. The sinking feeling of realization as he came face to face with the wrong twin. The panic blossoming in tandem with the flames engulfing Stan's mind, ones eager to swallow both of them in their destruction.

The agonizing pain as his entire being violently shifted between forms in a desperate attempt to escape, before a single punch from Stanley’s fist shattered him like glass—

“You’re a lot quieter than I was lead to believe.”

And suddenly the duck was uncomfortably close to his floating form, a studious expression on their face as they stared him up and down. “Did I do something wrong?” they asked. “Pretty sure I just needed to shake your hand to make a deal, right? Unless someone happened to change the rules while I wasn’t looking.” 

With a huff, they placed their hands on their hips and stared off in one direction of the white void. “I will say that if they did, it was a real jerk move!” they called out in a mildly-scolding tone. “I spent months doing as much research on you I could, and if I did all that prep work only for something new to come out just as we start talking, then I’m gonna be pretty annoyed!”

While the duck rambled on, Bill floated backwards with an indignant glare. Only time he was fine with people getting that close to him was when he was the one invading their personal space.

Although they raised a good point; he was being far too quiet. 

Even the deadest silence spoke volumes and the last thing he needed was for them to potentially backtrack on the idea of making a deal at all.  Unpacking everything else could come later, he couldn’t afford to pass up a chance to make a deal with some obviously-willing sucker.

In the meantime, he had to throw them at least one bone. Or, them being a duck and all, at least one breadcrumb. 

Ha. Hilarious.

Another shift of his pupil as he looked them up and down. Well, if they really wanted him to add to the conversation, there was nowhere better to start than with the obvious.

“Sorry, Birdbrain, guess I kinda short-circuited just from staring at the war crime in fifty-seven dimensions you call an outfit,” he said aloud, raising a hand to shield his eye. “Yeesh! Forget an eyesore, I’m getting a full-body ache just by looking at you!”

Yeah, that’d work.

In all honesty, their fashion sense was actually right up Bill’s alley. Bright, tacky colors that made it difficult to stare at the person wearing them for too long? Hideous, brilliant, absolutely something he could see himself wearing if the situation called for it.

But it wasn’t like they needed to know that, and hey; they called it low-hanging fruit for a reason.

Surprisingly enough, the duck actually smiled with amusement at his little quip. “Oh, well, the shirt was a gift from a friend,” they explained, and gently gripped the edge of their windbreaker. “But I got the jacket in the Dimension That’s Perpetually Stuck In A Heavily Romanticized Version of the Mid-Eighties-Slash-Early-Nineties. It’s my favorite place to shop for clothes~!”

It was almost scary how well he could read people sometimes. “Yeah, no kidding,” he said with a cackle. “Didja wake me up so I could point you in the direction of somewhere to buy clothes from this decade?”

“No, no, my fashion sense is a choice,” they said, holding up a finger. “But that’s not what we’re here to discuss! As I said before, I’ll be able to explain everything once we’re in my office. So we—oh, wait, hold on a sec.”

The duck clapped their hands together, and as they did (and as Bill watched), something began to rise up from the ‘ground’. It continued to expand upwards—the shape slowly resembling that of an upside-down horseshoe—and before long, a tall, curved archway towered above them. 

The archway’s appearance was fairly unordinary, with the only exception being a small sign at the very top center, labeled with nothing but a clear picture of an orange (or was it a tangerine? Eh, details; a fruit was a fruit). And at a glance, nothing lay beyond the other side aside from the continuation of the endless void. 

At least nothing that could be seen by the naked eye.

…Which meant there was a ninety-percent chance that there was plenty to see with an experienced eye.

“There we go,” the duck said. “This will lead us to the main part of my mind, aka my office. There, we can go over all the terms and conditions of the deal I wanna make with you!”

They flashed him a bright grin. “Like I said, forgot all my flashcards and stuff in there, and I’d rather not go over everything without them.”

Without waiting for a response from him, they hurried forward through the archway. As Bill had initially suspected, they seemed to vanish into thin air as they passed beneath it; a confirmation that the archway was really some kind of door to the deeper parts of their mind.

Rather than immediately follow after them, Bill instead turned his attention back to the endless void while he gathered his thoughts.

Okay, a quick assessment of his current situation; Punched in face. Exploded. Died. Woke up to a badly-dressed duck—one who clearly had more than a couple of screws loose in a way that teetered the line between hilarious and annoying —looking to make a deal.

The latter was hardly the weirdest thing to ever happen to him. Probably didn’t crack the top hundred, or even the top thousand. A talking duck in tacky clothing? Just another Sñeaturday night for him.

The former, however—

One fatal mistake.

His eye flashed red with abhorrence as Stan’s words once again hammered against the inside of his skull. In his desperation to shatter the barrier around the town, to put a stop to anything that would keep him from being finally, truly free—

—he’d foolishly miscounted the number of fingers on a hand.

His own hands balled into fists as the implications behind Stan’s oh-so-clever little plan finally started to take hold. No—not just Stan’s plan. Even if the old man hadn’t outright admitted to disguising himself as Ford, it didn’t take a genius to guess that he hadn’t pulled the stunt by himself. It took two to tango, and it also took two twins to swap places with each other.

And if one twin had been in charge of lulling him into their trap, that left the other free to pull the trigger on the gun.

One fatal mistake. One fatal mistake—

Ford had never planned on giving him the equation at all! He’d been deceived, tricked, played for a fool—

—and the worst part is that it had worked.

After all the knowledge he had provided to Ford over the years, after everything he had promised him in their success, he had thrown it all the way for the sake of his…his stupid family!

What a fool he was, and what a fool Bill had been for ever considering him a valuable and trustworthy ally in his plans.

And thanks to Ford’s betrayal, it was almost certain that things had settled back to normal in the mortal realm, with every trace of the Nightmare Realm being forcibly pulled back into the decaying dimension they called home. 

Which meant Bill certainly wouldn’t be getting a hero’s welcome once he returned. He’d promised his buddies a party that stretched on until the end of time, not some half-baked event that only last a few, measly human days. 

Even if everything was the fault of that ungrateful jerk and his stupid family, Bill would still be the one dunked headfirst into a bowl of multidimensional salsa the second he stepped foot back into the realm.

Thanks to Ford and his stupid family, he had no more backup attempts, no more portals, no Henchmaniacs, no more suckers he could puppet around or trick into doing his dirty work—

Thanks to Ford, he had nothing.

“By the way, I should probably let you know—”

“ACK!”

Bill was once again flung backwards out of sheer surprise as the duck’s head poked back out of the portal. A motion that earned an apologetic laugh from them, their hand also appearing out of the archway as they pressed it to their bill. “Sorry! Sorry, I forgot to tell you something important!” 

Bill narrowed his eye at them. “You know, you’ve got a real knack for sneaking up on people, Birdbrain,” he said, muffling his annoyance with a laugh. “Can’t pretend I’m not impressed, though. If you were some slithering, poisonous snake in the grass and I a pathetic, unsuspecting human full of vulnerable red blood cells and no immunity to venom, I’d probably be dead by now!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the duck said proudly. “But what I wanted to tell you was that even if you aren’t interested in making a deal, you’ll need to come in and let me know.”

Both hands were now outside the archway, raised in a shrug. “You know, just so I can pop you back, no harm, no foul?”

Their arms fell along with their expression as they peered closer at him. “Hey, is everything okay?” they asked. “I realize I’m probably moving a little too fast, especially after what happened in the last mind you were in. So I can understand any hesitance on your part…”

They cast him a look of sympathy, hands clasped together as they stepped all the way back out into the white void. “And if you need some time to think it over, I’ll understand. I know I said earlier I had other things I needed to be doing today, but that was all talk! We can take as long as you need to decide.”

Bill’s eyebrow narrowed at their concern. Hey, just because they were right about his hesitance didn’t mean he had to actually admit to that being the case. Especially not now that they’d caught onto that hesitation twice.

Once was easy to pass off as their mind playing tricks on them. Twice was a bit more difficult, though not impossible. Especially not when you were a master at twisting a conversation to your favor.

Another joke at their expense would probably do the trick. Clothing was out, he’d already poked fun at their hideous style and stretching a bit too thin always came with the risk of the tormented building an immunity through overexposure. Not that Birdbrain had exactly been bothered by—

Hmm. 

That could work.

With a chuckle, he raised a hand in the air to summon his cane. “Hehe, I don’t know what all that research told you, Birdbrain, but if you’re really standing there and trying to imply that I might be nervous about making a deal—” 

After giving it a little twirl, he jabbed the end of the cane against their arm. Not so hard that it would hurt, but with just enough force to make them wonder if harm had been the intent. “—you must not know me as well as you think you do~!”

He paused, and reached up to tap one of his sides thoughtfully. “Speakin’ of knowing people, though, I know you’re all eager to get to your big fancy-schmancy brain office to tell me what’s what,” he said. “But normally when I go dumpster-diving into someone’s mind, I at least like to catch their name first.”

He delivered another poke to their arm with his cane and batted his eyelashes at them. “Unless Birdbrain is your actual name and I’m just the Multiverse’s best guesser~?" he asked. "…I mean, I’ll probably still call you Birdbrain after I get a name, but it’s always nice to have options, y’know?”

There, a nice excuse that also doubled as a half-truth; not once in the entire conversation had Birdbrain actually given him a name.

And while he and the concept of truthfulness weren’t exactly on speaking terms, half-truths were the redheaded stepchildren he was happy to associate with whenever their presence was needed.

If the duck had actually been bothered by either jab from his cane, or if they hadn’t been fooled by his attempt to shift the conversation, they showed no indication of such in their expression. 

If anything, their smile only widened further at his request. “Oh, that’s actually a good point!” they agreed, and pressed a hand to their forehead. “Got so caught up in the details that I almost forgot to introduce myself! And knowing me, I would’ve gone through my whole presentation and not even thought about it!”

They paused for a moment to think. “Plus my research indicates that you aren’t a member of the fae so I see no risk in getting my name stolen if I give it to you,” they pointed out, with a glare to their side. “Unless that was something else that someone forgot to tell me ahead of time?”

Bill’s eye shifted thoughtfully towards the same direction, as if he expected to see someone else with them in the mindscape. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing more than the white void he had already grown used to seeing around them.

Once again, that wasn’t an indication that there was nothing to see, but that was something to worry about later. “Tempting, but I’ll set the idea aside for a rainy day.” He gave them a wink, or as best of a wink as one could give with one eye. “Or maybe for when I just get bored and feel like experimenting with something new~! Haven’t done that in a while, might be fun!”

The duck tapped their chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, let’s see. Which name I prefer depends on the person, but I think…”

They held up a finger, eyes bright with inspiration. “Yeah, I think you can call me Tangy!”

“Tangy, huh?”

Bill’s gaze shifted knowingly between their feathers, necklace, and finally moved back to the sign on the archway. Guess he’d thought that low-hanging fruit joke way too soon.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and tease if you want,” Tangy said amusedly. “I never claimed to be subtle when it comes to the way I present myself.”

They held up a hand and wiggled their fingers at him. “Plus my feathers already smelled like tangerines before I took on the name, so it was even more perfect~!”

After giving their hand a sniff, they let their arm fall back to their side. “Well, I’ve given you my name. Guess all that’s left is for us to get this show on the road!” they said, tilting their head at him. “Unless you really do need more time to think it over? I promise I’m not here to judge if you do!”

Boy, they weren’t letting up on that, were they? “Sounds to me like you need more time to think it over than I do,” he pointed out, and cutely pressed a hand to his cheek. “What, are you scared to make a deal with wittle ol’ Bill~?”

“Not particularly,” Tangy assured him with a laugh. “Although I would’ve appreciated the extra time to gather my presentation materials together.”

They held up a finger. “But, if you’re so sure that you’re ready, then let’s go!”

They ducked back through the archway, once again leaving Bill with nothing but his own thoughts. He cast another look towards the void again, unsurprised by the fact that there was still nothing (or no one) to see.

He stared for a moment more, before a devilish laugh began to bubble inside him. Boy, that old geezer must’ve punched him harder than he’d realized if he’d actually been shaken enough to worry, even for a brief moment. What was he thinking, getting so worked up about his situation when some tacky bird was practically throwing themselves at him for a deal? A deal that would probably be child’s play for him to complete, leaving him with a whole favor on their end. 

Plus, what was an anthropomorphic duck in tacky clothing but a human with feathers, and tacky clothing? If he played his cards right, he could easily end up with a sparkling new vessel to parade around in while he cleaned his wounds and regained his footing.

Heck, if he really played his cards right, there was always a chance for him to try his hand at another Weirdmageddon. One that would actually succeed this time around.

His features twisted into a wicked, metaphorical grin. And maybe with the right persuasion, he could convince Birdbrain to include a lovely reunion with Stanford and the rest of the Pines family in their deal.

Maybe even a reunion that involved peeling each of them apart like human bananas. Layer by layer, skin from muscle from vein from bones. Until they were all nothing but writhing blobs of flesh, unable to do anything but scream in endless, agonizing pain. What's wrong, Fordsy, you can't erase someone out of existence because your arm's a pile of fleshy goop? Too bad!

A delightful fantasy to imagine, but nothing more than that for the time being. Oh well, something to pocket for later.

With a satisfied expression, he adjusted his bowtie and hovered forward through the archway—

—only to be greeted hard and fast by the unforgiving ground he splattered against on the other side.

There was a gasp nearby, followed by the sound of webbed feet slapping against a tiled floor. “Oops! Probably should’ve warned you about that!”

With a groan, Bill lifted the front of his body up from the floor and cast a nasty look to Tangy. Their hand was extended forward for him to take, and their beak curled into an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” they said with a chuckle. “Completely forgot to mention the faint shift in your natural abilities as you step into this part of my mind. It’s a little jarring, but otherwise harmless and the effects should wear off pretty quickly.”

Their offered hand was ignored as Bill floated fully back up into the air. “That’s a real cute trick, Birdbrain,” he said, and dusted off his front. “Although a bit rude on your guest’s behalf, don’t you think?”

He moved close to their face, features once again stretched into the mouthless-equivalent of a smile. “I mean, I don’t call you over to my place and make you trip on your way through the front door, do I?”

Despite the sudden intrusion of their personal space, Tangy’s expression didn’t change. “No, I’d imagine you’d do something much worse,” they pointed out. “Like make the door lead to the Unnaturally-Moist Dimension, or something equally as cursed.”

Bill folded his arms with a thoughtful look. “Unnaturally-Moist Dimension, huh? Creative, I’ll give you that one.”

“I thought you’d like it,” Tangy said with a laugh. “Browsing your records for months straight gave me a pretty good feel of the kind of guy you are. I swear, sometimes I even see triangles when I close my eyes!”

To emphasize their point, they closed their eyes for a few seconds and pointed a finger to their temple. “Yep! They’re there!”

They opened their eyes again. “Anyway, did we want to get started on the deal, then?”

“Gotta be honest, Birdbrain, I can’t exactly accept or deny a deal if I don’t even know what the terms and conditions are,” Bill pointed out. “So how’s about we discuss all that first?”

Tangy smiled wide at his suggestion. “A very fair point! I can’t expect you to accept my deal if you don’t even know what I want!” they said, and spun on their heels to face the other direction. “Tell you what, you go ahead and make yourself at home at my desk area while I get your file, and then we can start our discussion. I knew I forgot something from upstairs, I swear, I’m just a mess today!”

As they hurried away from him with a visible spring in their step, Bill took the opportunity to examine his new, new surroundings. 

The endless white void had been replaced with some sort of observatory combined with a records office. The room was wide and cylindrical with tan walls on all sides, and there were two distinct levels between the floor and the cornice connected to the domed roof above their heads.

The lower level was open and empty, save for a simple workspace at the far left side of the room comprised of a desk, wastebasket and office chair. The area were a mess compared to the rest of the room—the surface was littered with papers and folders, a mug of some unknown liquid, and a closed laptop adorned in bright and cutesy stickers, while the wastebasket on the floor was overflowing with several pieces of crumpled paper.

The upper layer—on the other hand—was a full observation deck. One that circled around the room’s entirety, with both halves coming together at a spiral staircase on the opposite end of the room, and one that Tangy had bounded towards after putting a pause on their conversation. The walls along the platform were lined with tall filing cabinets that stretched from the ground to the diameter line of the domed ceiling.

And rather than any sort of sky beyond the glass, the view looked to be shimmering sea water. As if the entire ‘office’ was situated at the bottom of the ocean, with only a few schools of colorful fish adding some contrast to the endless blue.

“Let me know if you have any requests for the mood lighting,” Tangy called from the spiral staircase. “Normally I keep it neutral in case the boss wants to pay me an unscheduled visit, but if you want, I can just—”

They clapped their hands together, and the ocean view above immediately shifted to a bright, retro scene of shifting shapes and colors, one that could rival their outfit in terms of tackiness. “Or if you want something a little more personal, I can change it to—”

Another clap, and the retro shapes melted into a mess of raging hellfire and bloody hail that thundered hard against the glass. “Again, taking any and all requests, so just let me know if you got ‘em!”

Bill had remained silent as Tangy prattled on—eye fixed on the ever-changing scenery outside the dome—before his pupil shifted down to the workspace area. He hovered towards it, while the sound of filing cabinet drawers being opened and closed from the second level echoed throughout the room. “Just give me a moment, I know it’s around here somewh—a-HA!”

There was a loud BANG of a drawer being slammed shut, before a sudden blur of orange came barreling down from the upper level towards the ground below. At first, Bill expected-slashed-hoped that Tangy would splatter against the floor at Mach speed, if for no other reason than the visual comedy aspect.

A duck splattering against the floor? Why, that was straight out of a vintage cartoon, one where talking animals were allowed to inflict horrific acts of violence on each other. Such a fun period of time in animation history, one of his personal favorites if he really had to pick.

Unfortunately for him (and luckily for Tangy), their body came to an instant stop in midair, less than half an inch from the floor. With an exhale of relief, they stretched a webbed foot down to give the tiles below a gentle tap, and the rest of their body finished the fall at a more manageable speed.

An expected outcome, given the mindscape setting. But Bill couldn’t help but be disappointed at the lack of a splattered duck on the floor.

“Sorry for making you wait,” Tangy said, giving the file in their hand a light shake. “This should’ve been under ‘C’ for ‘Cipher’, I have no idea how it ended up in the T section! Guess someone must’ve slipped it into the wrong drawer or something.”

They let out a small chuckle as they seated themselves in the chair behind the desk. “Well, no matter. Let’s go ahead and get this started—”

They paused, and looked to him again. “Oh, wait, you’d probably want a proper seat for this, wouldn’t you?”

With a gesture of their hand, a empty chair appeared on the other side of the desk for Bill. “Once again; just let me know if you’d prefer anything different,” they said. “Throne, bean bag chair—”

They made little squirming motions with their fingers. “—recliner stuffed with bugs so you always feel something wiggling whenever you sit down?”

This got a laugh out of Bill as he sank into the offered chair. “Once again, very creative,” he said, folding his hands atop his cane. “You really know how to treat a shape in this place, huh?”

“Well, I do like my clients to be as comfortable as possible,” Tangy explained. “It makes them so much more agreeable when it comes to dealmaking.”

Bill raised his eyebrow. Clients with an S, huh? Interesting, and worth questioning. “Oh, so I’m not the first interdimensional, all-powerful being you’ve brought here?” He pressed his hand to his forehead with a dramatic flair. “Aww, well, now my feelings are hurt, Birdbrain. And here I thought I was special~!”

“Don’t worry, you are!” Tangy assured him, with a tilt of their head. “You’re the first interdimensional, all-powerful being I’ve brought here. The other interdimensional beings I’ve brought here were far less powerful than you are.”

They clapped their hands together. “Which is why I’m especially excited to have you visiting me today! I’ve never had the chance to make a deal with someone like you before!”

Wow, they were laying it on pretty thick, weren’t they? To the point that there was a decent chance they were just trying to butter him up.

Still, Bill wasn’t one to turn down a free compliment. “Sheesh, kid, you’re gonna make me blush,” he said with feigned modesty. “I mean, by all means, keep up the flattery. But normally I only get this red if someone catches me in the process of peeling off my exoskeleton.” 

He waggled a finger in their direction. “Heyyy, his little deal of yours wouldn’t happen to involve you trying to get me outta my skin, would it~?” he asked with a wink, then let out a small chuckle. “...That was a wink, by the way. In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Don’t worry, I understood the intent,” Tangy assured him. “Although to answer your question honestly: No, that is not what my deal entails. Besides, I’m much older than you are.”

Oh, they were, were they? Another interesting tidbit to tuck away in the old brain vault for later. “Fair enough, I wouldn’t be interested anyway,” Bill said, leaning back in his chair. “So what kind of deal are you looking to make, Birdbrain? Wanna be rich? All-powerful?”

A beat. “…Taller?”

Hey, just because they were keen on dishing out the compliments didn’t mean he had to reciprocate.

“As tempting as that last one is, I’ll pass this time,” Tangy said. “But to be honest, I didn’t just bring you here so you could make a deal with me. I mean, I guess I technically did, but—”

They moved a hand to Bill’s file on the desk and flipped it open. “Point is, this deal is less about what I want, and mostly about what you want.”

Well, if that didn’t shoot Bill’s eyebrow so far up his face that it was a miracle it didn’t fly away of its own accord. So they were just jumping straight to that point on their own without him having to guide them there himself, huh?

It wasn’t enough to lower Bill’s guard completely, but he couldn’t help but give them an intrigued look. “Oh? And what is it that I want exactly?”

Tangy turned their gaze to the file. “Well, according to this; lots of things!” they said, tracing their finger beneath the words on one page. “A physical form that will allow you to escape your dimension and rule the mortal realm with an iron—and three-dimensional—fist. Some form of revenge on the people who stopped you from doing that the last time you tried—”

They let their eyes travel across the page for a moment, before confusion painted their features. “—the world’s silliest silly straw?”

Bill let out a hearty laugh. “That’s right, I’d almost forgotten about that one! One of the few things I gotta give humans credit for; they sure can silly a straw!”

He folded his arms. “But in all seriousness, it’s pretty low on the list of things I’d make a deal over,” he said. “You’re on the right track with those first two options, though. So if we really wanna get this show on the road—”

“Ah, ah, not so fast!” 

Tangy held up a finger. “I might know what you want, but you haven’t even heard my terms of the deal yet!”

Despite his best efforts, Bill's nonexistent smile fell in an instant as he raised his eyebrow at them. “Pretty sure you just said this whole deal was about what I wanted?”

“I said it was mostly about what you wanted,” Tangy reminded him. “But there are a few things I’d like to gain out of our exchange for myself.”

They cradled their chin in their hands. “I mean, it wouldn’t exactly be a deal if only one side got what they wanted, would it?” they asked. “It’d be more like—I don’t know—me just giving you a gift without expecting anything in return?”

A shrug. “A nice gesture, but not something that requires all this extra effort,” they pointed out. “In that case, I could’ve simply left a present next to your statue and been done with it!”

Bill rolled his eye. An annoying point, but a fair one. Even if he would’ve absolutely preferred a free offering without being expected to give anything in return. “Well, what do you want out of the deal, then?”

Tangy’s beak widened into an excited smile and clapped their hands twice. Immediately the scenery around them changed; the lights in the room were snuffed out in an instant and the grotesque, hellish scenery beyond the glass above transformed into a calm, starry night.

Another series of claps, and a large projection screen appear behind them in midair, followed shortly by a film projector at the other end of the room. With a pleased expression, Tangy rolled their chair around the desk and moved towards the empty space beside Bill. “I have a short promotional film prepared,” they explained. “After the dozenth-or-so client, it gets exhausting repeating myself over and over.”

They leaned closer to him and gave him a knowing wink. “Plus this way I can offer my guests refreshments while they watch! I heard someone was a fan of Time-Punch? I might have a few bottles on hand, if you’re interested?”

Bill's eye had once again been fixed on the changing scenery above their heads, but his expression fell into something more pleased at the mention of Time Punch. “Well, now, if you’re going to go and offer me something like that, then how can a guy say no?” he asked, tucking one hand behind his head while making a gesture with the other to proceed.

There was a snap of Tangy’s fingers and a small, floating martini glass appeared in the air near Bill, one immediately followed by a bottle of sparkling liquid. “I think a glass of Late 2020 would be to your liking,” they said. “It’s supposed to be a very weird year.”

Bill’s eye lit up. “Ooh, that’s the year the plague makes a comeback, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is,” Tangy said, while the bottle poured its contents into Bill’s glass. “I opted for the back half of the year, after things really began to kick into overdrive.”

Once the glass was full, Bill took it in his hand and gave the contents an expert swirl, before raising it to his eye for a sip. “Oh yeah, that’s the kind of savoriness you only get from media fatigue, toilet paper hoarding, and…”

There was a pause, followed by a smacking sound as he determined the taste. “Huh, almost forgot about the murder hornets.”

“Yeah, kind of a wild thing to throw out there while everything else was going on,” Tangy agreed.

While Bill took another sip, Tangy gestured to the projector and the screen before them lit up with the image of a vintage countdown timer. Once it ticked down to zero, the screen fell dark again for a moment before the first scene appeared.

A random, humanoid man raced into view from the right side of the screen. His appearance was disheveled and worn—as if he’d been previously fighting some difficult battle—and his features twisted with defeat and fury.

He slowed his run to a gradual stop, ducking behind a wall and sinking down to the ground in an exhausted, sitting position. As he pressed a hand to his head, a booming voice (one that echoed throughout the domed room around them) began to speak offscreen. “Greetings! Have you ever found yourself in a situation like this gentleman right here?”

The camera zoomed in on the man’s face, as he glared at the person behind the camera with a look of pure malice. “Hey now, there’s no need to look at me like that, pal,” the voice continued cheerfully. “The state you’re in right now is all your doing! You ticked off the wrong people, maybe you burned all the bridges with your family and friends. You’re a loser—”

On the screen beside the man flashed the word ‘LOSER’ in a wacky font. “—a CHUMP—” Another word in wacky font appeared on the opposite side of him. “—an absolute SUCKER—”

Before the third word could appear above his head, the man waved the text away in a blur of colors. “Can we get to the point?” he asked with a scowl.

“You’ve hit rock bottom with no way to climb back out,” the voice continued. “Or so you think~!”

The camera panned out, and suddenly Tangy appeared onscreen with an excited flourish. “Lucky for you, there’s a way to get your life back on track!” they said eagerly. “Introducing—”

With a wave of their hands, the title of the short film appeared over the two of them in big, orange—(Bill side-eyed the actual Tangy at this, who merely shrugged. “Listen, I like what I like.”)—letters of the same font as before:

“The Shelduck’s Game.”

Bill’s eyebrow rose with curiosity. The first thing to catch his eye was the word ‘shelduck’ (so Birdbrain was a shelduck, huh? Called that one.), but what really piqued his interest was the specific use of the word ‘game’.

Though a deal of a different name, a game possessed enough unique characteristics to justify the use of a separate word. A game implied challenges, rules…

More enticingly, a game implied a prize to be won.

The Tangy on the screen continued to speak as the text faded: “That’s right; The Shelduck’s Game! A fun-filled game for beings of all types across the Multiverse, and a chance for you to pull yourself out of the doldrums and get your life back on track!”

The scene transitioned with a screen wipe to a simple, crudely-drawn animation of Tangy and the unnamed man. “The Shelduck’s Game is so simple and easy to play, a child could do it!” the overlaid voice from before continued. “Not that we get a lot of children playing this game, but they could if they really wanted to!”

The actual Tangy leaned closer to Bill. “Yeah, not a lot of kids end up hitting rock bottom in the way most of my clients do,” they explained in a whisper. “And on the off chance that they do, they’re usually pulled out of it by the power of friendship or whatever by the time I’m able to arrive on the scene.”

A shrug. “Still, I am here if they ever need my help.”

Bill rolled his eye and turned his attention back to the film. “How does this game work, you may be asking yourself?” the voice asked, while the animated stand-in of the man shrugged with cartoonish uncertainty. “Well, as we said before, it’s so simple that even a child could figure it out! And that’s because—”

The crudely drawn Tangy gestured widely, and the scene transitioned to the two of them playing a random board game. “—the Shelduck’s Game is always suited to fit the specific player’s needs and personality!”

The board game shifted to a chessboard. “Are you a fan of chess?” Then a checkerboard. “Or perhaps checkers is more your speed?” The board disappeared completely. “Or maybe you’re not a fan of board games at all! We’ve got plenty of other options!”

Another scene transition, and the man was now hiding behind a tree while Tangy could be seen searching for him in the background. “There are countless games to be played in the Shelduck’s Game,” the voice continued. “But in the end, all you have to do is win one in order to obtain—”

More text written in that wacky font appeared onscreen, covering it in its entirety as the voice read them out: “—The Grand Prize!”

Bill hid a laugh behind another sip of his drink. Once again, his guessing skills were impeccable.

“The Grand Prizes offered by the Shelduck’s Game are just as diverse as the games themselves,” the voice continued. “And just as catered specifically to the needs-slash-wants of the player!”

The scene changed to the man’s animated head surrounded by brightly wrapped presents, and one opened to reveal a pile of money.  “Looking for cash?” Another revealed an unlabeled award. “Fame?”

And the last present opened to reveal an elegantly-decorated crown. “Looking to climb back to the top after your nasty and undignified fall from grace?” 

A wipe of the scene revealed the man from before, his disheveled and beaten appearance now replaced with a triumphant pose as he stood tall before a pile of his hard-earned rewards. “All of this and more can be yours if you play and win The Shelduck’s Game!”

With a proud smile, the man gave a thumbs-up to the camera. “Thanks to the Shelduck’s Game, I’m finally back on top!”

“Look at this guy!” the voice continued. “Don’t you wanna be just like him? I’ll bet you do! So play the Shelduck’s Game today!”

The guy gave a thumbs up as the title flashed again: “The Shelduck’s Game! Outta luck? Talk to the duck!” A pause, before the voice spoke again in a much more casual tone: “We’re still working on the catchphrase, cut us some slack.”

A series of warnings in smaller text quickly scrolled up from the bottom of the screen, read along by the voice at a pace to match the speed:

“Warning; please do not play any of the more intense games in the Shelduck’s Game if you are prone to illness, vertigo, motion sickness, or are with offspring in any way, shape, or form. The Shelduck’s Game is not responsible for any death (temporary or otherwise), dismemberment, or injury that may occur during the events of the game. Rules and regulations for each game may vary, as will your satisfaction with the end results. The Shelduck’s Game is not associate with Globnar, Time Baby or any associated organizations.”

The screen faded to black, and Tangy once again clapped their hands together. Immediately, the screen and projector vanished and the room’s lighting was restored. “Still a work in progress,” they admitted, while they moved their chair back to the other side of the desk. “But I think it gets the point across!”

They tilted their head. “Unless you have any other questions you still need to ask before we continue?”

Oh, Bill’s mind was whirling with questions, his gaze fixed hard on his empty martini glass in an attempt to mask the glee building inside him.

Birdbrain was in charge of running some sort of multidimensional game and wanted him as their latest player, with the aforementioned prize to be won acting as a lull to draw him in. Play a game, win a prize. A deal older than time itself, and one that often sounded too good to be true.

And as someone who had plenty of experience in the field of dealmaking; whenever a deal sounded too good to be true, there was always a catch. And lucky for Bill, he was quite the expert in spotting the catches in a deal. A master at spotting a watery loophole in even the most empty and barren of word deserts.

First thing of note was the lack of any specific game for him to play. The video had provided examples, but they’d been exactly that; examples. The video had made it very clear that the games were catered specifically to the player’s needs and personality.

And although he had a feeling Tangy was going to discuss the specifics of the game next, there was still the issue of the prize itself. They had already brought up a list of a few things he desired, but nothing that was worth diving headfirst into an unknown game of chance.

…Well, nothing that was worth diving into an unknown game of chance without more information, at least. 

He had to keep them talking, at least long enough to get that information out of them and anything else they were willing to divulge. Something he was sure wouldn’t be difficult; with how happy Birdbrain seemed to keep chatting up a storm, it was a wonder that they hadn’t been born a parrot instead of a shelduck.

Man, the bird jokes were almost too easy.

“I know what you’re probably thinking,” Tangy said aloud, interrupting his thoughts. “You’re probably thinking ‘this sounds amazing, and way too good to be true.’, along with some kind of derogatory remark about my appearance.”

Smarter than they looked, apparently.

Bill gingerly traced a finger around the rim of his glass. “Let me just see if I’m picking up what you’re putting down,” he said aloud, while his gaze followed the movement. “If I play one of your silly games and win, I get the prize of my dreams? That’s the deal you wanna make with me?”

“As expected, you catch on quick,” Tangy said proudly. “Yep, games are how we do things over here in my neck of the woods. I’ve got enough power to grant people their fondest desires, but it only becomes a reality if they play and win.”

They folded their hands on the desk. “And lucky for you, Bill Cipher, you happen to be the one I’m extending that lucky offer to today!”

Bill reached his glass to his eye again, downing the last little bit of Time Punch. “Can’t lie to you, Birdbrain, that does sound like a pretty sweet deal. But I’ve gotta reiterate my point from before; I can’t exactly agree to a deal if I don’t know the specifics behind it.”

He gestured widely with both arms and the few remaining drops in his empty glass splattered onto the papers on Tangy’s desk, a shimmery mess of color against their usual shade of white. “And not once in that little video of yours did you ever state the actual name of the game."

He held up the glass to his eye for a casual inspection. “I’m just saying, it ain’t smart to sign up for a game before you even know what you’re playing~!”

Tangy didn’t look the least bit perturbed by the mess, and instead gave a wave of their hand. The few spilled drops rose up from the paper into the air, leaving no trace that they had ever spilled, and a wave of their hand in another direction brought Bill’s empty glass up to join them before both dissolved in a quick burst of light.

The light faded as quickly as it had appeared, the cup and droplets now a floating mass of energy as Tangy shifted both hands to bring that energy into their embrace. They snapped with one hand, then the other—

—and then slapped both hands around the energy, flattening it into something that Bill could not see. After keeping their hands pressed together for a moment, they rereleased their grip and held the mass before them as it rematerialized into something entirely new.

At first, it appeared to be nothing more than a bunch of small, golden shapes, each about the size of an eraser. Once all the shapes had properly formed, however, they started to combine into a larger, singular shape—

“A triangle?”

How original.

The triangle—well, actually it was more of a square pyramid than anything else—fell into Tangy’s cupped hands, and a pair of thin, golden chainlinks began to materialize from the topmost point. They continued to form upwards for several inches, before slowly rounding off into a closed circle chain. “I had a few ideas for the game I’d offer you,” they said. “But I think at the end of the day, a scavenger hunt is the perfect choice!”

They looped a finger into the chain and twirled the charm in the air, the triangle gently drifting back and forth with their movements. “Combined with a little bit of Capture The Flag~!”

Bill raised his eyebrow. Alright, not what he was expecting but his curiosity was certainly piqued. “Elaborate.”

“Basically, I take this little guy and I—”

A snap, and the charm suddenly reverted back to a mess of golden bricks. “—scatter the pieces all across Gravity Falls,” they continued. “I then plop you down in the town, and leave you to find all of the pieces and put the entire thing back together.”

They tapped their beak with their finger. “I’d want to give you a decent amount of searching time, so let’s set the time limit from the beginning of June to sunrise on August thirty-first,” they said. “Both within the year twenty-thirteen, of course, so no trying to pull a ‘Well technically, I could still keep playing because you never specified which August thirty-first.’”

Their hand moved from their beak to their chin as they thought for a moment. “Although I guess there has been some debate on whether the current year is actually twenty-thirteen or twenty-fourteen,” they mused. “Time Baby’s literal-untimely death made things go all wonky for a bit and there’s still some lingering side effects. I’m pretty sure it’s only twenty-thirteen, but you know how it goes—”

They shrugged. “Whatever, from the beginning of June to August thirty-first all within the same Gregorian year. Three months, no more and no less.”

Bill was silent as he contemplated all of this, gaze shifting between Tangy and the scattered pieces of triangle. “Where does the Capture the Flag part come in?”

“Good question!” Tangy said. “So basically, once you get the pieces together, you’ve gotta find a way to keep hold of the charm by the time the game’s deadline hits!”

They flashed him a smile. “Which I doubt would be an issue for someone like you, but what’s a game without a few extra challenges thrown into the mix?”

Extra challenges, huh? That seemed vague enough to be sneaky. “And what does that mean, exactly?” he inquired. “Gonna pop down a couple of extra players to act as an opposing team to me or something?”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Tangy assured him. “I just figured you’d be surrounded by a lot of people who don’t like you, and would probably do anything to stop you from achieving your goals.”

Their smile widened. “I mean, if someone showed up and tried to turn my dimension inside out, I doubt I’d be willing to just let them walk around freely after that,” they elaborated further. “And if I found out they were collecting the pieces of a puzzle that would let them do that again, I’d probably do everything in my power to take those pieces away from them.”

A shrug. "That's just my own personal feelings, though. For all I know, the people down there could welcome you with open arms and do everything they can to help you find the pieces. Either way, though, you have to be the one holding them by the end of the game to count as the winner."

…Alright, so maybe it wasn’t as sneaky as he’d initially thought. 

Still, Bill had yet to find any sort of real catch in their offer, and Birdbrain had yet to circle back around to talking about the prize he’d receive if he won the game. “So, just so we’re all clear: you want me to waste three months hunting down some building blocks in a town I can’t stand, full of people I can’t stand?” he asked. “That’s your big, exciting game?”

He folded his arms behind his head. “Gotta say, Birdbrain, I’m not seeing much of an appeal to playing your little game. From where I’m standing, you put far more effort into your silly video than actually making your game interesting.”

A laugh. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m sure it’d be fun to go back to tormenting the suckers there for a bit. But I’ve been doing that for several decades now, and the novelty’s worn itself pretty thin.”

“Hey, it’s not like I could send you anywhere else,” Tangy pointed out. “What with the weirdness barrier around the town and everything, I’m kind of limited on options.”

They reached up to gently tap one of the scattered bricks with their finger, before the charm reformed itself into a full pyramid. “Which reminds me, I don’t believe we decided on your prize, did we?”

It took every ounce of willpower on Bill’s end to keep his expression neutral as the conversation shifted back to the topic of his prize, despite the initial glee from before bubbling up once again inside him. It really was too easy to get what he wanted out of people, wasn’t it? “We discussed it, but I don’t think we settled on an answer.”

Tangy let both the charm and their gaze fall back to the desk, and they reached over to turn the current page of his file to the next one. “Well, we’ve covered a few of the things you currently desire,” they said studiously, pupils shifting back and forth as they read. “Revenge, a chance to take over the multiverse again…a silly straw—”

“I believe we already established that I can make due without that last one for now,” Bill interrupted quickly.

“Sans the straw, there’s a number of options to select as your prize,” Tangy continued, and flipped to another page. “But so many of them wouldn’t even be worth all the effort of playing, what with that aforementioned barrier still around the town—”

They slapped the folder shut with one hand. “So, why not make that your prize instead?”

Bill blinked. “Wait, make what my prize?”

“The barrier, you goofball!” Tangy said with a delighted laugh. “You play my game and win, and I’ll shatter the barrier for you!”

…Heh? “Heh?”

“I don’t know how much clearer I can phrase it for you,” Tangy said. “Since all of my other options would still leave you stuck within the town limits, why not just get rid of the reason you were stuck in the first place?”

They pressed their hands together in a squishing motion, adding a raspberry for comedic effect. “So yep, that’s my offer! Find all the pieces of the charm, put ‘em back together, and keep hold of the entire thing before the sun rises on the final day of summer, and I’ll shatter that pesky barrier like glass for you!”

“...You’re bluffing.”

It was said far too unprofessionally, far too needy for his liking. But for the first time since he’d arrived, any common sense was momentarily ignored as Bill stared at them in utter shock. 

Out of all the things they could have suggested as a prize, out of all the things he could have suggested, not once did the thought of destroying the barrier cross his mind. Why would it? The only one who had any knowledge of how to collapse the barrier was—

Bill’s hand gripped the chair’s armrest, and he let out a grounding exhale of breath in an attempt to relax. He had to remain calm. Neither he nor his Nightmare Realm buddies had been able to break past the barrier, and he had a feeling that ol’ Sixer had no interest in spilling that information to his beloved family. 

And if Bill hadn’t been able to get the equation out of him, there was no way that Birdbrain would just know it off the top of—

“‘Gravity Falls Natural Law of Weirdness Magnetism and the Equation To Reverse It.’”

Tangy’s attention was now on the laptop, their fingers dancing across the keys for a moment before they pointed to the screen. “Huh, look at that!” they said delightedly. “There’s actually results!”

Bill’s grip on the armrest tightened, cotton fluff billowing out of the rips as his pupil bounced to the laptop for a millisecond. “...And how do I know you’re not just staring at an empty screen right now?”

“I don’t blame you for being suspicious,” Tangy said, and turned back to face him. “But I can promise you that I wouldn’t have offered the idea if I didn’t intend to follow through on it if you win the game—”

“So what do you get out of all of this?”

It was a question that had been lingering at the back of Bill’s mind, just barely out of reach. But upon hearing Birdbrain’s offer to shatter the barrier, something had finally clicked.

They had not once elaborated on why they wanted him to play their little game. 

The prize they were offering; it had to be the catch in their deal. Something so personally enticing to him that he wouldn’t think to question why they were offering it to him in the first place. 

Why would they be promising to give him so much, if they weren’t going to get anything out of it themselves?

Tangy tilted their head at his question. “What do you mean?”

“What are you getting out of this deal?” Bill repeated, and floated up out of his chair. “Out with it, Birdbrain; you wouldn’t be offering this deal if you weren’t getting something out of it in return.”

He hovered forward and placed his hands on the edge of the desk. “You said yourself that a deal wasn’t a deal if only one side was getting something out of the exchange,” he pointed out. “If I play and win, I get a prize.”

He leaned forward further, eye narrowing with suspicion. “So I ask again; what are you getting out of this deal?”

Much like the other times Bill had invaded their personal space, Tangy showed no sense of discomfort or annoyance at the action. Rather, they simply moved a hand back to the laptop and pressed it closed. “What do I get out of this?”

The hand moved to the charm on the desk, their fingers teasing the chain for a moment. “That’s an easy answer! I get the joy that comes from helping someone in need.”

Bill raised his eyebrow, unconvinced.

“I’m serious,” Tangy said, and rose up from their chair again. “The entire motivation behind giving people a chance to play my games is because I adhere to the idea that everyone out there deserves a chance to get their lives back on track. To get a second chance that many others might not be willing to give them.”

Their cheery demeanor grew unusually serious for a moment as their eyes fell to the desk before them. “Even if they squander that chance, at least that helping hand was extended to them in the first place…”

They were quiet for a moment, before their bright expression returned in full. “Also I’d like to point out that while you don’t have to trust my motives, I did go through all the trouble of bringing you here to make this deal in the first place,” they pointed out. “Why would I go through all this effort to bring you back, only to deceive you about what I have to offer?”

Bill could think of at least a dozen answers to their question off the top of his head, but he simply folded his arms across his chest. In their defense, it was a good point; why bother going through all that trouble if they had no plans to actually hold up their end of the bargain?

Sure, there was always a chance that they were lying about possessing the ability to destroy the barrier, but what benefit would it give them to do so? How would lying here further Birdbrain’s needs?

…Again, Bill could spend an eternity listing off potential guesses, but at the end of the day, they would just be guesses. Not actual answers behind their motives.

“I’m happy to give you as much time as you need to think the offer over,” Tangy said, and waved their hand over the desk. “But if it might help speed up the process—”

They pulled their hand back, and a blank piece of paper flew up from their desk and hovered between them. As Bill watched, the words ‘The Shelduck’s Game Contract’ began to magically form in big, orange (again with the orange) letters at the top of the paper. 

Letters that were quickly followed by a series of paragraphs in the same font, finishing off with two blank signature lines near the bottom of the page.

“I know you’re a man of handshakes,” Tangy said. “And we can absolutely do that as well. But my game requires a binding signature to take effect.”

Another wave of their hand and their signature appeared on the first blank line. “There we go, now I’m legally bound to uphold my end of the deal,” they said. “And if I don’t, you’re well within your legal rights to hit me with whatever punishment you see fit~! I do believe we mentioned the Unnaturally-Moist Dimension already? Or perhaps you’d want to do something worse to me?” 

A shrug before they folded their hands together. “Either way, my fate would be in your rightfully-unforgiving hands!”

Bill stared at them before his gaze moved back to the contract, slitted pupil darting back and forth as he absorbed every word, letter—even every punctuation mark—several times over. It was nothing they hadn’t previously discussed; an explanation of the game, the decided terms, and—

‘As agreed upon, the being known as Bill Cipher will receive the following upon winning the decided game; the complete and immediate destruction of the weirdness barrier that surrounds the town of Gravity Falls, Oregon. Scenic Dimension 46'\.’

His gaze lingered on those words for a moment while he pondered over everything that Tangy had told him. There had to be something he’d missed, the catch he’d yet to find in their words.

But, on the other hand—

His shoulders tensed. They had countered his questions with legitimate answers. They were practically throwing themselves at him to make a deal, even going to far as to offer themselves as a punching bag if they tried to back out. They were promising to give him the very information that he had died trying to pry out of Ford’s mind—

One fatal mistake.

He didn’t even bother to hide the flash of red in his eye, as he snapped his pupil back to Tangy. “You’re serious about breaking the barrier if I follow all your rules and win your dumb little game?”

Tangy held up a hand. “As serious as the odes of plague in that 2020 punch you drank.”

“And all I have to do to win your game is put that little charm of yours back together and keep hold of it by the end of the summer?” Bill asked. “That’s it?”

Tangy snapped their fingers and the charm flew from the desk to their hand. “That’s all you’ve got to do.”

Bill looked from the charm to their laptop. “...And there’s absolutely zero chance of you just giving me the equation right now, even if I do everything in my power to torture it outta you?”

Another snap of their fingers and the laptop vanished in a flash of light. “You could certainly try,” Tangy said with a smile. “But I’m also aware of your vulnerability in the mindscape, and I feel like that probably puts you at a disadvantage in a fight—”

“Yeah, yeah, alright, point taken.”

Bill crossed his arms, eyelid narrowed in thoughtful silence for a moment, then another—

Aw, heck with it. Since when did he overthink this hard about anything?

“Gimme a pen.”

Tangy’s face lit up with excitement as they made a pen float up from the desk and into Bill’s hand. And within seconds, the blank signature line was occupied by a boldly written ‘BILL CIPHER’ in jagged capitals.

Their smile widening further, Tangy gestured the signed contract back towards them and rolled it up with a wave of their hand. “Looks like the game’s on~!”

“Ah, ah, ah, before that—” Bill held out a hand. “—now it’s my turn.”

Tangy gave a nod. “But of course! I’m nothing if not a duck of my word.”

They reached for Bill’s hand with their own, their palms barely making contact before both were enveloped in blue flames. Heatless flames, but the power behind the action could still be felt as the imaginary bonds of the deal travelled up through their arms and throughout their entire bodies.

Bill’s hand lingered in theirs as the flames died down, his grip tightening against their feathers. “If I win your stupid game, and you don’t shatter that barrier for me, I get free reign to torment your lying, feathered butt in the most horrific ways possible until the end of time.”

“Once again, duck of my word,” Tangy assured him. “But I would like to remind you that I only have to uphold my end of the deal if you win. If you lose, you can’t hold me accountable for your failures.”

Despite the eye roll that followed in response, Bill could feel the familiar rush of endorphins that always came with making a deal surge through him. A rush now paired with a swelling passion, as the realization that he had succeeded in playing his cards right.

He had a chance to destroy the barrier. To start again.

To finally be free.

His features twisted into a metaphorical grin. And this time, he would not be making any ‘fatal mistakes’. Take that, Stanford! Take that, Stanley! Take that, anyone who would not be getting in his way again!

“So, are you ready to begin?”

Once again, Birdbrain was just a master at interrupting his thoughts. But once again in their defense, they were also good at following those interruptions with a good point. “So, how’s this gonna work, then?” he asked aloud, gaze moving to their still-locked hands. “I possess you, then we pop on down to Hick Town, or—?”

Tangy tilted their head curiously. “Possess me?”

“Yeah, you know, so I can play your game?” Bill pointed out. “Can’t exactly go without a vessel to possess.”

He batted his eyelashes at them. “Unless you’re planning on just dropping me down there in my pure, unaltered form~?” he guessed. “Couldn’t blame you if you did, I’m a delight!”

Tangy chuckled. “Well, you are a delight, but I don’t plan on doing that,” they said. “Knowing you, you’d probably use it to your advantage and just turn the town upside down looking for the charm pieces.”

They raised their free hand in a shrug. “And while that’s not against the rules or anything, it would make the game a little too easy.”

“Had a feeling you’d lean that way," Bill said with a roll of his eye. "So then, when am I possessing you?”

Tangy chuckled, their smile widening just the faintest amount. “You’re still misunderstanding, Bill,” they said. “When did I ever say you were going to possess me in this game?”

“...What do you—”

There was a flash of light as Tangy broke their handshake, and Bill vanished. Their arm remained outstretched for a moment, gaze locked on the spot where Bill had been previously, before they let it fall with a giddy laugh that echoed throughout the domed room. “Wow, I can’t believe it!” they said, flapping their hands in excitement. “I actually managed to convince him to play one of my games! This is going to be so much fun!”

“Sounds like things are going well.”

Tangy’s gaze snapped to the archway at the sound of a new voice, grin widening as a tall woman stepped through. Unlike Bill’s entrance into the room, she walked with control and grace, her countless eyes shifting about as she took in the scenery. “I saw he had taken his leave, so I thought it safe to make my presence known.”

“Oh, hi, Jhessie~!” Tangy said delightedly, waving at her with their whole arm. “And you’d be right on that fact!”

They gave the woman a double thumbs-up as she approached the desk. “I convinced Bill to play a game!” they explained. “Not only that, you were right about him being suspicious about almost everything in the deal, while also being too darn stubborn to accept any chances to back out.”

Smiling wider, they reached for the triangle charm on the desk and held it up. “Also, it’s a good thing he was so focused on all of that, he didn’t even think about taking a closer look at this bad boy,” they said, and pressed a finger to their bill. “He also didn’t notice how I never actually ended up using my flashcards, despite them being one of the excuses I used to get him in here. Odd oversight on his part, I think.”

“The important part is that he accepted the deal,” she said, tilting her head upwards towards the glass dome. “I’m sure He’ll be pleased about that, as well.”

Tangy also turned their gaze upwards, as the hellfire and blood rain they had previously set for Bill melted back into the underwater view from before. They continued to stare for a moment, before Tangy dropped their gaze back to her. “Hey, Jheselbraum, can I ask you something?”

“You’re going to ask if my initial vision of Bill will come to pass,” Jheselbraum said, also letting the gaze of her multiple eyes fall to Tangy’s face.

Tangy playfully wagged a finger at her. “Nothing gets by you, huh, Miss Oracle?”

“Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure myself,” she admitted. “Or perhaps I struggle to believe it, despite witnessing the events of the premonition with my own eyes.”

She held her hands behind her back. “Regardless, while my visions usually come to pass in one way or another, the events of the future are not set in stone. Whatever happens will inevitably be up to him and the choices he makes during your game.”

“Well, either way, Bill’s on his way back to Gravity Falls for the summer so whatever happens will reveal itself in time,” Tangy said. “Oh, I should probably—”

With a snap, the charm vanished into the air. “There we go! Now his scavenger hunt can properly begin.”

“So, where did you end up hiding the pieces?” Jheselbraum asked.

Tangy tilted their head curiously. “You don’t know?”

“Just because I possess the ability to see into the future does not mean I choose to use it for everything,” she said. “It would make for a rather unsurprising, and therefore dull, lifestyle.”

“Fair enough,” Tangy said. “Well in that case, I won’t tell you! Let’s continue keeping it a surprise for everyone!”

With that, they clasped their hands together. “Well, I’ve probably got some time before he needs my help,” they said. “Care to share a glass of Time Punch with me while I wait? I’ve still got a mostly-full bottle of 2020.”

“I’m more partial to 3030 myself if you possess a bottle,” Jheselbraum said, before taking a seat in the chair previously occupied by Bill. “It’s currently unknown to most, aside from those of us blessed with the ability to see that far ahead.”

With a laugh, Tangy summoned a bottle and two empty glasses. Both of which—along with the rest of the room—were swiftly engulfed in shadow as a massive being passed overhead, beyond the glass of the domed roof.

Once again, both beings turned their heads upwards and watched in silence as a giant, pink axolotl floated lazily through the crystal blue waters, its magnificent body twisting to and fro for a few minutes before it eventually swam out of sight.

“Hmm, it appears I was right when I said He’d be pleased,” Jheselbraum observed thoughtfully. “Although He might be less so when he hears that you offered Bill some of your Time Punch.”

Tangy returned to pouring their glasses with a nervous chuckle. “Hey, come on, he was so suspicious of me when I first showed up,” they pointed out. “What better way to help him relax than to show him I’m a cool duck who’s willing to break a few rules with him?”

They cast her a concerned look. “...I’m not actually going to get in trouble, am I? The big guy would understand, right?”

Jheselbraum hummed with amusement. “Worry not, it was a joke.”

Tangy let out a laugh. “Heyyy, since when were you a jokey-jokerson?”

“Since I was able to predict every punchline while others could not predict my own,” she replied matter-of-factly. “But I’m serious when I say you needn’t worry. I can promise you that He’s pleased with the way things are unfolding, and is as eager to see how it’ll play out as we are.”

Their smile widened, before they waved the first poured glass in her direction. “Well, I certainly hope He remains pleased as time goes on,” they said, before getting to work on their own glass. “After all, the game has only just begun.”

“...That was incredibly cliché—”

“I know, but it sounded so cool and ominous that I just couldn't resist!”

They gestured for the bottle to lower itself to their desk as the two of them gave a toast (one immediately interrupted by an outcry of “Wait, I forgot to tell him the rules!” from Tangy), the base coming to a wobbly rest atop a stack of folders on the desk.

Specifically atop a thick, unopened folder, one that contained a decent number of papers regarding the subject within. On the outside of the folder itself however, there was nothing more than a simple picture to act as a label, stuck to the folder by a cutesy little sticker of the full moon. A picture that was thankfully unobscured by the bottle of punch. 

A picture of the Cetus constellation.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Day 9

Deity

*sneezes after downing coffee* Well irl stuff got in the way so I'm way behind my original schedule for these and for Linktober but here we go with another arguably short one, fuelled purely by self indulgence, headcanons, spite against my linguist essays that kept me from keeping to schedule, severe sleep deprivation, a shout out to the Ender Lilies soundtrack and Majora's Mask soundtrack, and Nintendo for not clarifying anything about the lore so I'm snatching what I can and making it my own lol. Look, when you fíxate so much on details the Zelda team doesn't elaborate on you have to fill in the gaps with what you can.

As always can be read as romantic or platonic, technically in a LU context but not explicitly in it by itself.

The Lord of the Mountain liked hearing people sing.

In a way, it wasn’t a surprise, Hylia and the Golden Three each had their ballads and symphonies and minuets, each splendid and with cuts of their divinity in it, Farore was fond of lightning and forest alive minuets, and you could swear Farosh sparked just a bit brighter when one would him the beginnings of the Minuet of the Forest near their spring, Din was fond of boleros, fiery and alive and howling with the echo of flame touching earth that made a shine run through Dinraal’s scales, Nayru, in contrast, was much fonder of blizzard and river quiet serenades, the songs of contemplation at first snow ringing clear when Naydra curled around it’s spring, content to be free of Malice.

And of course Hylia had her ballads and lullabies, perfectly fitting to her display of divinity, of honey days and vast bird like wings, of ambered summers to come and to pass and dazzling solar storms of starlight and sunlight sparking through the human form of her descendants and heroes. So in a way, you weren’t surprised at all that the Lord of the Mountain – Satori, with a familiar touch of londsleite divinity, the hunt of the woodland beasts and diamondscar adoration for the Hero of the Wilds, similar in glory to the Light Spirits petrichor and vermeil fondness for the Hero of the Twilight – liked to listen to people sing. What you were surprised was how it attempted to follow along, it’s head across your lap the second you sat down in the clearing, a gentle hum on back of it’s throat, an owl’s cry and a cicada’s humming and faintly, chirring purring as presses it’s faces into your hands, a gentle request for petting.

It was adorable, even with the faint notes of the chill of clear spring water on winter and the livewire feeling of magic, like holding your hand too close to a flame but not quite touching it.

A low chuckle brushes against the back of your mind, a feeling like biting on ice, the prowl of a wild beast and the build up of lightning and light used to create his blade, the amused affection of a warrior reconvening with their brother in arms, you think you see the bone ivory of the Deity’s hair on the side of your vision, though you know he’s not physically there, ‘He likes you.’

You hum, gently patting behind it’s ears, pushing through the chill, gracefully not mentioning the burning with a smile at the mythic being’s faint chirring, birdsong and the wind through cherry blossoms that sparkle like rose quartz, “Well I quite like him too, I can see where it’s gentleness comes from.”

The ghost of a touch over your hair, the caress of lightning striking over your skin and the hair on the back of your neck pricking up and the crisp cold of winter, the chill of the ending and the flame of a new dawn, of new days, the phantom of magnolias and spring water on your tongue. The fragrance of pine, daffodils and blood soaked lilies on ashen fields on your senses, gentle and careful, marking but not claiming, ‘Only because it’s you, beloved. It’s not something easily given.’

You sigh, shakily composing yourself, you let yourself relax into the phantom sensation. Of hopes and dreams and healed suffering, of the divinity of hunt turned into protection and lightning given form, of tangled timelines and crystalized memories, “I know. It does not change my opinion, either way.”

To be the subject of a god’s care and regard was dangerous, after all. For the human and the deity in question, you know the stories from your world well, of the effects of Hylia on First and Sky, of Twilight and the personification of the Twilight Realm and the spirits of his land, of Wild and clawing from death’s embrace into that of the wilderness.

Knew how the fact the Fierce Deity’s mere proximity causing pain on those who changed him into hunting for hunt’s sake into protection for the sake of someone else cut deeper than even the ever encroaching entropy all beings must one day face. It was no wonder the Song of Healing was his creation, to want to ease the burden.

You gladly grant him some peace, in turn, even if it wasn’t much. It’s the least you can do, for always having his ways of watching over your heroes.

“Join me? We can make a duet.”

You feel more than see him shift, ephemeral, fleeting, gentle against the edges of your existence, as foreign to Hyrule as your own, sparking over your spine as you feel ozone and rust on your teeth. Satori is humming again to match the rumble of thunder in the man’s voice, the heralding of songs of war and elegies for the dead, ‘Of course, though I’m afraid I do not know many songs, besides…’

“It’s alright,”, you smile faintly, there’s a white ocarina in his hands, as he leans, a spectre against your side, “I’ll teach you some of my own, though you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t remember all the lyrics.”

‘It would be my honor to learn.’

You think he smiles, from the fluttering of something ancient and long forgotten against your side.

You sing to Satori and the Chain, a small respite of familiar and forgotten tunes, the Lord of the Mountain hums along. The Fierce Deity’s song cutting through any nightmares that may ail your heroes for another night.

When the dawn of a new day comes, the feeling of divinity against your skin feels just a bit more obvious, sinking into every crack of your being like a shroud, falling over your boys like a veil, reflecting the breath of eternity over Hyrule.

(First gives you a look that’s half exasperation, half understanding. Sky pointedly sticks to your side as Time looks you over, markings deep with vibrant color. You shrug with a helpless smile as you feel the lightest brushes of Hylia’s fond days of gold and starlit summers days against the Lord of the Mountains warm, luminous affection and the Fierce Deity’s smug, but content lonsdaleite smile.)

[mattodore]

100 questions with Matthias | playlist, pinterest | ←

1. What common traits do you share with your oc? What about them is the least like you?

Hm… I think Matthias and I are similar in that we’re both all-in when it comes to love, but I think just about every other aspect of Matthias’s personality and life are different from mine. Or, I hope so... lmao.

2. Do you think you would get along with your oc if you could meet them? What things would you talk about?

Absolutely not. I would be calling for this man’s beheading online. He wouldn’t like me either (let it be clear that he doesn’t like much of anyone, though). If we had to have a conversation I’d maybe listen to his thoughts on literature or history. I like listening to people much more intelligent than myself talking about the things that interest them. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with him, though.

3. How competent would your oc be in a survival situation? Would they be better off on their own or in a group?

Incredibly competent. Matthias is a savant with huge swaths of knowledge touching on a countless number of subjects, has analytical prowess, is strong and sturdy, manipulative, charming, and a natural born leader. He has all the makings of a solid survivor and could wind up on the other side of any survival scenario as the head of some fucked up cult, honestly, but…. If the situation in question is dire or inconvenient enough he’s simply not going to bother. He’d let someone else kill him off without putting up a fight. And I’d say he’s better in a group just because he needs people to make him feel real.

4. Is your oc a daredevil, or more of a scaredy cat? What is the most daring thing they’ve done in their life?

Daredevil. Matthias has little value for his own life and often winds up doing some rather outrageous things in order to feel anything other than the numbness he's used to. I think the most daring thing he’s ever done has to be blackmailing the headmaster of his boarding school just because of the sheer gall of it.

5. What is your oc’s patience like? When waiting for something, are they able to sit still or do they fidget? How do they fidget?

Matthias is never in any kind of rush. He leans and lounges and sprawls. He doesn’t move much, but I think he does have a certain lofty demeanor about himself when he’s waiting that’s reminiscent of a big cat swishing its tail and flicking its ear; if he’s crossing his legs you’ll see his foot sort of dip and swish while he’s waiting… he taps his forefinger on his temple… and he stares very intensely.

6. How much thought does your oc put into what they wear/look like? Any reason why?

Matthias pretty much figured out what worked best for him when he was a teenager and has stuck with it since then. He has a simple skin care routine and only uses a few hair care products, so it’s not something he has to put much thought into anymore as it’s all just rote memory now. 

In terms of his clothing, he’s not very adventurous and knows what already works versus what doesn’t. He gravitates toward pieces that flatter his physique while also remaining in a color palette more suitable to his tastes (he likes plain clothing without logos or lettering and wears blacks, grays, whites, and darker shades). 

But Matthias also has a dermatologist, a stylist, and a personal trainer on retainer… he could always get them on the line if he needed to. 

7. Does your oc collect anything? What about knowledge or facts? How big is their collection?

No material possessions, but he does seek out knowledge, if that counts? He also owns a lot of books, but not because he’s collecting them on purpose… he just reads a lot.

8. What kind of flavors does your oc like? How much spice can they handle?

I think he likes both sweet and bitter flavors the most. He’s used to eating a wide array of foods, so I don’t think there’s any flavor he doesn’t like exactly. Matthias can’t handle spice at all, though, which is a shame because he does actually like the flavor. Theo finds this to be very funny, by the way… he thinks Matthias is cute when he’s trying to play off how badly the food is getting to him while drinking water in these precise, measured gulps that’re meant to be subtle but just make it all the more obvious that he’s kind of dying. His ears and the back of his neck go all red while eating spicy food.

9. How easily does your oc trust others? Any particular reason why? How trustworthy are they themselves?

Matthias doesn’t trust easily at all. I think it’s partly because he never had anyone to trust in those development years of his childhood, but also partly because of the way in which his mother shipped him off to a reformation school to be abused and tortured and then essentially abandoned him there. Even despite never being close with his mother or even particularly loving her… he still knew that there was something meant to be there between a mother and their child that was… betrayed. So he finds it nearly impossible to give his trust over to another person, especially because he hides so much of his real desires, impulses, and personality from the world. Imani is the first person to ever gain that trust and the only person after to get it from Matthias is Theo. 

As for himself… it depends on who you are. If it’s Imani or Theo that are putting their trust in him, then they can be assured that they will never have to doubt him. If it’s someone else, however… he’s only trustworthy when it suits him and his little games. He lies a lot just for the hell of it, cheats often, and amuses himself with the power of holding secrets. Do not trust this man.

10. What are some of your oc’s pet peeves? How do they handle it when the annoyance doesn’t stop?

Matthias was trained in etiquette for years, and despite frequent participation in debauchery as an adult, and a strong distaste for rules, some of his training has stuck with him regardless. That is to say that poor table manners make him feel homicidal. Open mouthed chewing and talking with your mouth full has to be what he finds the most atrocious, especially as it nearly makes him nauseous. His way of handling these annoyances is to simply leave without another word, no matter how important the conversation or the person having it with him is.

11. Does your oc have a good sense of direction? Do they get lost easily?

Matthias has a very good memory (a detriment, really, considering how much there is in his life that he’d really like to forget) and a good sense of direction follows that naturally. He hardly ever gets lost.

12. How well would your oc handle being placed in a leadership position?

Like a fish to water. Matthias has lived his whole life placed at the top of the food chain and leading the pack already. He takes up that space with grace. But does he actually want it? Well… no, he’s rather bored of it now. He wants someone to follow instead but so few people are deserving of his devotion… 

13. What is your oc’s confidence like? Are they self-confident to the point of being arrogant? Are they terribly self-deprecating?

Matthias has the confidence of a man who has never found himself to be intellectually inferior to anyone and has only ever stood above everyone else. He’s arrogant and disdainful. Comes with the turf that he also likes himself a great deal… he’s prideful to an irritatingly high degree unless you’re into that sort of thing.

14. What is your oc’s speech like? How loud are they usually? Do they have an accent or a stutter?

Matthias is silver-tongued. He enunciates every word carefully and speaks very precisely. He speaks confidently and never mumbles or stutters. However, if he lets his mind wander or slip (whether aided by intoxication or just simple distraction) his Polish accent—which was trained away when very young—slips through the cracks. You can hear his accent most notably over the letter “a” in words (Bambi becomes Bahmbi, for instance… which I mentioned months ago but now there’s the added context that this is his nickname for Theo… grins a little). 

15. What is your oc’s memory like? Do they remember certain things better than others? Do they have any strategies to better remember things?

Perhaps it’s because of how regularly he exercised his mind from a very young age, but Matthias’s memory is astounding. More than anything, though, what his memory latches onto most is violence. The traumas of his teenage years have followed him like a second shadow. His dreadful nightmares are fueled by just how much he remembers of his time at the reformation school he was sent to from ages 15-18.

16. How affectionate is your oc? How do they convey their affection? By being touchy, or through more subtle ways?

Platonically? He’s very warm with Imani. He often holds out his arm to her so she can place her hand on his bicep as they take walks in the morning. I don’t think they verbally affirm to one another how much they love and care for each other, but that’s mostly just because they already know they do from over a decade of friendship. Plus, Imani kind of has a hard time accepting love from others, so that’s also why Matthias doesn’t speak to his love for her as his dearest friend.

Romantically? Matthias is always showing his affection and love for Theo openly and without shame. He meets Theo’s needs exactly where they are, seeing in Theo just how badly he needs to be reassured and pursued, even when Theo is still trying to deny himself what he desires. Matthias conveys his affection most through words of affirmation and acts of service. He’s always in Theo’s ear whispering about how his heart beats through Theo’s or how nice he’ll be to and for Theo, how good… how he’d crawl for him… he’s incredibly devoted and Theo is very aware of that fact. Make no mistake, though, Matthias is also affectionate in other ways as well. He’s incredibly tactile with Theo, because Theo’s most comforted by the physical reassurance that Matthias is there to catch him, you know? If Theo falls, he’s got him. Matthias also isn’t shy about voicing how badly he wants Theo either. Time and place don’t matter to him at all when faced with Theo’s presence (or, even, the absence of his presence; Matthias wants him all the time). Matthias would let Theo do anything to him. He could ask anything of him.

17. How polite is your oc? Do they know how to act in a formal situation? How would they *actually* act in a formal situation?

Matthias is… hm. Generally speaking, he’s polite, but it’s not exactly… sincere. He’s all charm and pretense, I mean… he’s just following the social contract to get what he wants. In formal situations, he’s the picture perfect gentleman. He has a lot of experience from etiquette lessons to cotillions and has undergone rigorous training in boarding school to ensure infallible success in the upper echelons of society.

18. How physically strong is your oc? Is their agility or endurance better?

Matthias is very strong. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s strapping. His muscles aren’t the kind that are just for show… he’s thick all over and isn’t concerned about having a movie star six pack. He wants real, animalistic strength. He wants to ensure he’s never put in a situation where he can’t protect himself ever again. And I’d say his endurance is better than his agility by nature of having previously undergone a lot of forced labor. Plus, he’s had to adapt and has a high pain tolerance now that he’s in his twenties, so aside from, like, pretty high stamina, his actual ability to endure pain itself is high.

19. What is your oc’s creative skillset? Music, drawing, writing, dancing, etc.? Or are they lacking creativity entirely?

Hm. I think he’s not very… imaginative? Creatively, I think Matthias is very much someone who just sees what’s there… he doesn’t draw from it and add on, you know what I mean? He does some art, but it’s observational realism. He sketches landscapes almost exclusively (in fact, it’s one of the things he does in the mornings). He has a lot of free time not only because of the nature of his lifestyle but also because of how little he sleeps… so he’s had a lot of time to practice and is good at it. He’s trained in ballroom dancing but he’s not explored any other kinds of dance and doesn’t try letting loose any other way. He can play the viola and the piano (as he’s legally required to do as a fictional rich love interest™), but doesn’t compose his own pieces. He’s not a writer, surprisingly, despite reading obsessively… I don’t believe he’s ever even tried writing himself. Well, he does journal, on occasion, but that’s just drawing from his real life… his imagination is stilted. One could draw the conclusion that this is perhaps because of the childhood he had or a result of trauma… hm. Take your pick.

20. Does your oc have any favorite games to pass the time? What other hobbies do they have?

Well… he plays mind games, if you count those. He likes messing with people. Other hobbies… well, what I just mentioned in the previous question, for starters. Hm… I think he treats sex as a hobby. He reads a lot and always has. Birdwatching. Going on walks. I think he’s pretty boring, honestly. Sorry, Matthias. No, um… I really think he just… appreciates the world. It sounds weird to say, considering he’s rather nihilistic… but I feel as though his nihilism actually plays a part in why he just… sits back and appreciates what’s there, because what else is there? The birds in the trees, the rising and setting of the sun, the movement of his body while dancing, the base pleasures of his sexual appetite… yeah. That’s what life is. Experiencing it is his hobby, I suppose.

21. Is your oc expressive, or would they rather conceal their emotions? What are their typical expressions like?

Matthias isn’t very expressive. Sure, he smirks and offers an inscrutable smile, but… he’s hardly ever actually expressing his true emotions or thoughts. I’d say he normally has an intense, persistent stare no matter which mask he’s wearing for the evening. If he smiles, it doesn’t meet his eyes. He’ll raise a brow if he’s amused, and his mouth will quirk, but he never fully laughs—not easily, at least. You’d have to work very hard to earn a laugh from him.

22. How easily does your oc fare in the sun? Do they tan or burn easily? Are they completely unaffected?

Matthias wears sunscreen every day and is meticulous about reapplying it. If he tans, it’s very light. Mostly he just burns. Trust that he complains about this all the time to Imani as she’s often the one with him while poolside. She thinks it’s hilarious, because even when they were kids he’d burn along the bridge of his nose just from being out for a handful of hours in the courtyard of their boarding school.

23. How graceful is your oc? Are they elegant in their movements, or more clumsy?

Matthias is poised and confident in his movements and commands attention through them. He glides gracefully around the room when he’s entertaining guests and mingling. His tread is light, despite his size, and he has a tendency to creep up on people when they’re not looking. The way he moves is unsettling to some who’re watching on the outskirts, because it often appears as if he’s prowling. 

24. Is your oc a romantic, or are they grossed out by the simple mention of anything romantic?

Oh, Matthias is a true romantic when he finds someone worthy of his affection. Or, rather than just his affection, should I say his absolute devotion? He worships at Theo’s feet. He’d debase himself just for a rare glimpse of Theo’s smile. He’s at Theo’s beck and call.

Additionally, Matthias would never be disgusted by any of his desires or urges as he doesn’t let society dictate how he feels about anything; rather, the more his desires deviate from what society at large deems acceptable, the more he’d delight in them. So the love he feels is something he exalts, even when it skews off in jagged directions.

25. How stubborn is your oc? Are they open to considering different options or opinions, or are they more closed off?

Matthias is pretty stubborn, I think. He values his own opinions above all others. He’ll move only if he’s been proved wrong or outsmarted… which is something that always gives him a delicious little thrill. He loves meeting people who can get the better of him.

26. How does your oc sleep? Do they move around a lot? What position does your oc normally sleep in? What are their typical bedding arrangements like?

Matthias is an insomniac and gets very little sleep. When he does sleep… hm… I think he doesn’t move around much unless it’s to accommodate someone else in the bed with him (Theo…). Matthias sleeps on his back using one pillow under his head. He doesn’t like feeling constricted, so he sleeps naked with only a sheet covering his body, his comforter put away in the storage bench at the foot of his bed and only brought back out to make the bed in the morning.

27. What is your oc’s sleep schedule like? Are they a night owl, an early morning riser, or do they get any sleep at all?

Matthias likes the mornings best. I think he normally manages to get some sleep in at around 11AM-1PM in the day. Theo actually helps him fall asleep… Matthias will lay his head in Theo’s lap while Theo’s studying and the motion of Theo’s fingers carding through his hair will put him to sleep like a child with warm milk. His nightmares ease around Theo.

28. How organized is your oc? How important is organization to your oc?

Matthias is very efficient and organized. It’s personally very important to him to keep his area clean as it was a habit he developed in boarding school.

29. If a perfume was to be made to represent your oc, what sorts of smells would be included in it?

I think Matthias’s signature fragrance is already a good enough representation of who he is. He wears Francis Kurkdjian’s Oud Extrait de parfum. A strong scent that’s spicy and rich with saffron notes that’re soft and leathery. He smells warm and masculine without being ostentatious.

30. How caring/empathetic is your oc? Are they the type to immediately adopt and protect others, or are they a true sadist?

Matthias has very little empathy for people who aren’t of his concern. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a true sadist… but he does have violent urges and enjoys toying with people. He’s protective of children and teenagers, though… it’s not something often seen, as he has no reason to be around younger people, but… Imani’s seen it first hand with her younger brother.

31. What inspired the creation of your oc? Any specific things, a general aesthetic or idea, or something completely random?

Theo. I’ve talked about this over here, but Matthias as a character exists because of Theo. His actual appearance is meant to contrast Theo’s. His life is meant to mirror Theo’s. His personality is both a mix of hard differences and similarities to Theo’s.

32. How judgemental is your oc? Do they keep an open mind about people, or are they the type to judge a book by its cover?

Matthias isn’t actually all that judgy. I mean, he definitely looks down his nose at people, but that’s hardly their fault. I’d say he’s open minded, but he’s also a lofty asshole.

33. What five objects or things could be expected to be found on your oc’s person at any time? Why?

Matthias doesn’t have material possessions that he feels he has to carry around at all times. 

But… I suppose he’d have his phone on him, a watch on his wrist, and his driving gloves tucked away in his back pocket. He doesn’t have a wallet, but he does have a card he’ll carry in one of his pockets. He doesn’t carry keys, as he has people who’ll let him inside his home when he needs to be let in. 

When he’s dating Theo, though, he often makes sure he has a hair tie or two on his wrist as well (which does in fact make me feel insane, thanks for asking). 

34. Does your oc have a pet? If they could have another one or if they were to get one, what would it be? How well could they care for it?

Surprisingly, yes. Matthias has a cat named Odious. By nature of Matthias being rich, Odious is spoiled, but not exactly by Matthias himself. He’s not very affectionate, but he does like her. She just wandered onto one of the estates and didn’t leave.

35. Does your oc have any distinguishing markings? Scars, tattoos, birthmarks, freckles, etc?

Matthias has a very noticeable scar on his chin from a decanter his mother threw at his face when he was fifteen years-old. I do think he’d have more scars on his body from the three years he spent at a reformation boarding school, but I haven’t yet decided where or to what extent the scarring goes. He has no birthmarks, freckles, moles, or tattoos otherwise. 

36. What is your oc’s fight or flight response like? What sorts of things provoke it the most?

Matthias is the fight response without question, but it takes a lot to get him to break and resort to it. Matthias has an impeccable amount of control over his own impulses and can hold off on reacting for a long time. But when his control snaps and he turns violent, it’s most likely a response to Theo getting hurt in some way. He has very little control when it comes to Theo.

37. How does your oc handle heavy stress? Do they have any specific coping mechanisms? Are they healthy or not?

Matthias gives the impression of being impenetrable, but I do think stress is something he feels. If he’s stressed, it’s most likely because of mental challenges he’s facing. As for coping mechanisms for it… he probably doesn’t have any, just by nature of stress being something he chooses to ignore most of the time. Hm… I can’t imagine he’d handle it any differently than how he normally handles his other challenges: with wine, sex, and a crowd of murmuring bodies.

38. What does your oc do to relax? Any specific activities? Why?

By all means, Matthias definitely seems as if he’d be pretty relaxed, but he’s actually on edge a fair amount. His insomnia gets pretty awful at times and he has audible hallucinations. The best way he’s found to deal with it is to relax outside, listening to the sound of the birds and letting the breeze ease the fevered rush of noise his mind tries tricking him with. He doesn’t live close to people at all, so he knows the hallucinations aren’t real (mostly, he hears screaming)… still, it’s not like he enjoys them. He views it as a weakness of his.

39. Does your oc have any nicknames? What are the origins of them? If they don’t, can you come up with some possible ones?

Matthias doesn’t like when his name is shortened, so he doesn’t have any nicknames based on his actual name. Hm... Imani calls him baby whenever she’s making fun of him, if that counts? It’s not really a nickname, though, but whatever. Theo doesn’t use nicknames with Matthias, I don’t think, but Matthias would go crazy for it if Theo ever did. He’d do anything to hear Theo call him his pet… I’d bet he fantasizes about it all the time. I’m sure he’s probably coaxed Theo into calling him a few nicknames during sex, though, so there's that.

40. What languages does your oc know? Are there any they want to learn but haven’t had the chance to? How good are they at picking up new ones?

Matthias is a polyglot. He can speak and write in Polish (and can generally understand a handful of other Slavic languages), English, Spanish, and French. He also knows ASL.

Matthias wants to be able to read as many languages as he can. Right now he’s learning Mandarin but is in the early stages of memorization. He’ll probably start working toward learning either Arabic or Hindi next… I’m not sure. He likes Arabic poetry (the translated forms he’s read) a lot, so that’s probably what he’ll gravitate toward.

41. What was the worst injury your oc ever suffered? Has it had any long lasting impact on them?

His worst injury has to be the broken ribs and punctured lung he got while he was at the reformation school. It’s the source of one of his most frequent nightmares.

42. Is your oc an optimist or a pessimist? Any particular reason why?

I’m honestly not sure that Matthias goes either which way. Everything is so… nothing to him that not even I can say how he feels in concrete terms. I don’t think he feels like there’s going to be better days ahead! or that everything is awful and will be awful forever. He’s just… apathetic.

43. How important are the rules to your oc? Do they follow them to a t, or do they enjoy breaking them?

Matthias has never seriously cared about rules and in actuality spurns them. The only time he observes them is when he can use them to his advantage or because he’s had to in order to ensure his safety.

44. How violent is your oc? Or are they more of a pacifist? To what lengths will they go to start/avoid a conflict?

Well… he’s had violent urges since he was very young. He doesn’t act on them hardly ever (now, at least), but they are there in his mind. And Matthias doesn’t avoid conflict per se, but there’s very little that he views as worthy of his attention in that way. He gets mad for a time, sure, but then he lets it go. When he does act on his urges, it’s… well. It gets bloody fast. He kind of lets it all out at once. 

45. How is your oc around animals? What about children?

Matthias is stilted with animals, including his pet cat. He talks to her like she’s a fully grown human person… he pets her a few times on the head and then pats her bum and tells her to go on her way. It’s a little funny, in my opinion. 

Matthias doesn’t really hang out in circles where children are present hardly ever, but when he is around them I think Matthias is surprisingly soft. He’s gentle with them and talks to them like they’re his equal; he doesn’t use baby talk or dismiss them. Kids really like him because of that. Matthias treats children and teenagers better than any of the adults in his life ever treated him.

46. Does your oc lie a lot, or is the truth very important to them? What is their reaction to other people lying to them?

Matthias thinks lying is fun, lmao. He only considers the truth to be important when he’s talking to people that he views as respectable. If he cares about you, he’s probably not going to lie to you. Perhaps it’s because of how good of a liar Matthias is, but he can see through lies eerily well. So when other people lie to him… hm. I think he enjoys it, because you can learn so much about people based on what they chose to lie about. He finds that fascinating.

He doesn’t like when Theo lies to him, though. Not about the important things at least, like Theo’s safety. It’s what Theo lies about the most to him.

47. How much of a prankster is your oc? Are their pranks truly evil, or more harmless, positive ones?

He doesn’t pull pranks. He thinks they’re simpleminded and uninspired. He can think of much more exciting ways to mess with people.

48. What are your oc’s nervous tics? Are they aware of them? Do they attempt to hide them?

When Matthias is nervous he’ll thumb at the scar on his chin. He catches himself doing it occasionally, but I don’t think he’s ever been aware of why exactly he does it. He stops himself when he realizes he’s going through the motions, though. He thinks the impulsivity of it is inelegant.

49. What would be the perfect gift for your oc? What would be their reaction to receiving it?

I’m honestly not sure. Matthias doesn’t necessarily care about material possessions, so you couldn’t really buy him something and expect much of a reaction from him for it. But I’m also not sure if there’s anything sentimental that would move him either. So not something made for him or something bought… but maybe something personal that belonged to you at some point. Hm. I think he’d let the mask slip and he’d offer a smile… a genuine thank you. He’d be fascinated by the choice of gift… it’d be different from what he’d expect someone to give him and it’d thrill him in that way.

50. How attentive is your oc? How perceptive are they? How easily do they get distracted?

Matthias models his behaviors off of others, so he’s attentive and watches closely. I think he’s perceptive, but not as much as his gaze might lead you to believe. Matthias can get caught up in his own orbit. His haughtiness gets in the way sometimes, so he slips when he’s having his ego stroked… it’s the best time to get one past him. Theo uses this to his advantage when he’s prevaricating and trying to avoid being caught lying.

51. If your oc was to receive an award for something, what would it most likely be for? Have they received any awards in the past?

Matthias has received numerous kinds of academic awards while in school. He’s also won awards for his manners and dancing in his etiquette lessons. No specific award I’d give him… not seriously, at least.

52. In what ways does your oc cope with anger? How easily angered are they? Do they lash out?

Matthias used to be a lot more aggressive when he was younger and was stubbornly argumentative, but he learned to control his… not anger, exactly, but his derision, as a natural consequence of physical violence at the reformation school he went to in his late teens. Matthias does get angry, but… he lets it go if it’s not actually worth his time. If you’ve pissed him off, he’ll give this tight, inscrutable smile and his eyes will glint once in warning before his features will smooth back over. He’ll keep staring until you get uncomfortable and look away first, change the subject, or leave. But if he’s actually furious over something that he can’t just ignore… he lashes out like a viper. You’ll get dizzy from how severely he dresses you down. Or he’ll hurt you, if your offense is grievous enough. I don’t think he’d be quick about that, though. He really does enjoy playing with people.

53. If your oc was to host a podcast or TV show, what would it be about? Would your oc actually be good at it? What sorts of guests would appear?

Oh God… Matthias absolutely cannot be given an audience. It would be detrimental to world order or something. Um… but I think he’d do great talking about history or literature… or manipulation tactics. I don’t think he’d have any guests on, though. He’s a one man show.

54. How would you describe your oc’s voice to sound like? Do you have any voice claims for them?

Matthias’s voice is low, cold, and seductive. There’s a gravitas to his voice and an arrogance you can just hear. If you close your eyes while Matthias is speaking, you’ll get the impression that you might need to crane your neck up to look at him… the force of his presence just spills over into every part of him, including his voice. He enunciates the letters in words precisely and has a measured way of speaking that adds a layer of… command to his words. 

I don’t have an exact voice claim… but I think his voice would sound like a harsher, deeper version of Michelle Gurevich's in Temptation (especially when Michelle’s voice starts to growl/rasp at the end of her words).

55. How sensitive to loud sound is your oc? Do they prefer constant high background noise, low background noise, or complete silence?

Hm… it depends on what the noise is coming from. He’s used to all kinds of distressing noises. In general, I’d say he prefers low background noise or silence.

56. What is your oc’s favorite color? If you had to choose one color to represent your oc, what would it be and why?

Matthias doesn’t have a favorite color… like, at all. And I’d say silver reflects him well… I can’t say why exactly, it’s just the first color that comes to me when I think of him. Maybe pale blue as well… he’s icy.

57. How good is your oc’s sight? Do they wear glasses? Do they need glasses? Do they have some form of night vision?

Matthias has perfect eyesight. The fucker.

58. How would you describe your oc’s appearance to someone who’s looking for them? What features would be most identifiable?

I think Matthias is actually incredibly easy to spot. I’d tell them to look for the tallest guy in the room who’s pale all over and broad shouldered. I honestly think that would be enough to spot him. I think his pale blond hair is the most identifiable feature he has, especially when light hits it.

59. How good at cooking is your oc? What can they cook/what is their favorite thing to cook?

While Matthias does have staff who’re paid specifically to cook for him, he actually waves them away a lot of the time to do it for himself instead. He’s a good cook. Not, like, Le Cinq level cooking, but he’s good regardless. I think Matthias spends a lot of time practicing things like cooking specifically to impress. He gives off the impression that he’s just innately talented at many things, but that’s by design. He’s actually worked very hard to develop the skills he has. It’s a fun aspect of his character, in my opinion. He seems like he wouldn’t care, but he actually cares a great deal.

(Additionally, being on Matthias’s payroll is pretty cozy, because oftentimes he just ends up doing what the staff are hired to do for himself and the staff still get paid regardless. Putting up with his uncomfortable staring and odd waking hours is worth it in the end.) 

60. How good is your oc at keeping track of time? Are they always late, always early, or always right on time?

Time slips away from Matthias frequently. He’s normally late to things, but because of his personality, a lot of people think he’s just being fashionable… he’s not. He genuinely just gets so wrapped up in whatever it is he’s doing that appointments on his schedule slip his mind and he winds up ten minutes late to everything.

61. Is your oc more quick-thinking, or do they take longer to figure things out?

He’s quick-thinking. His mind is agile and connects dots faster than most. But he’s not even half as perceptive as Theo despite having a similarly quick mind.

62. How quick is your oc? Do they have faster or slower reflexes? What things are they quickest at?

He’s both mentally and physically quick. He exercises regularly and boxes, which is something he would hardly be able to do well if he couldn’t react fast. The way he carries himself, his grace and poise, has also aided his reflexes. I think he reacts fastest when catching things… you should see how adeptly he can catch and maneuver Theo’s legs around him when Theo jumps on him.

63. How self-disciplined is your oc? Do they often think before they act, or the other way around?

Matthias is incredibly self-disciplined due to how he grew up and the experiences he had in his teens. He thinks first before acting, without a doubt. The times in which he does act first are always the moments in which his control snaps and he lashes out. He tries to avoid that happening as best as he can.

64. Which of the seven deadly sins does your oc fall under most? What about the seven heavenly virtues?

He’s lust, easily, but pride and wrath speak to him as well. 

As for the seven heavenly virtues, the only one I can even entertain for him is patience.

65. If you were to give your oc a new superpower, what would you choose and why? If *they* were to be able to choose, what would it be and why?

I was going to be funny here, but actually… I think I’d give him the ability to sleep whenever he wants. Is that really even a superpower? Probably not. But it’s all just made up anyway, so, sure. He’d have sleeping powers.

On the other hand, I think Matthias would be interested in something that could give him either greater knowledge or a deeper insight into the way people think. Telepathy, maybe? Not, like, mind control, or anything. That’s not very fun for him… he’d want to have to work for it more.

66. What sort of advice would people go to your oc for? What sort of advice is your oc actually good at giving?

I don’t think Matthias has the interest or sensitivity necessary to give people advice. I don’t know… he doesn’t really have many opportunities to try, anyway. I doubt Imani goes to him for advice when she’d rather handle things on her own, and Theo would never ask anyone for anything, especially for help. But I think Matthias would be the kind of person you would go to when you want to indulge. He’d stoke the flames of your passions and persuade you to reach for them rather than staying still.

67. How many people does your oc prefer to be around? A crowd, a few friends, or all on their own?

Matthias prefers to be in crowds of people. He has to feel alive somehow. He lives both because of others and through them. 

It’s only when he feels seen and understood through Theo that he begins to reassess and prefer the company of just a few friends and his lover.

68. What sorts of things would cheer your oc up when they’re down? Is your oc sad often, or is it more rare?

Rather than feeling sad exactly, Matthias is more unresponsive. I’d say he has a very childlike sadness buried deep down that he’s carried with him his whole life to the point that he’s now numb to it. Nothing cheers Matthias up, not really. Maybe Theo.

69. How energetic is your oc? Are they constantly tired, or constantly bouncing off the walls?

Matthias is an insomniac, so by nature he’s sort of always tired; however, Matthias has had nearly a decade to adjust and is a master of performance—you would never notice how exhausted he truly is. It’s not that he’s dull or low energy… but he’s languorous. All of his movements are languid and unhurried. Even the way he talks is measured… he draws things out. His actions only pick up if he’s excited by something. 

70. What about your oc’s lifestyle would they change if they had the ability? Why?

Nothing.

71. What is your oc’s go-to for offense? What weapon, what style of fighting? Or are words more their weapon of choice?

The personal trainer Matthias has had since he entered his twenties is an ex-boxer, so that’s how Matthias has learned to fight in a more refined, professional capacity. Before that, though, he learned how to fight from hands-on experience at the reformation school… meaning, he fought dirty and there was absolutely nothing off limits. He had to defend himself any way he could. Because of this, Matthias is rather crafty in what he’ll reach for to use in a fight, but he prefers to do it with his bare hands if it’s… a more personal attack. 

Matthias actually spars with Sehyuk at times to blow off steam. They’re never fighting to really hurt each other, which is good… Sehyuk could put Matthias out of commission for quite some time if they ever wound up actually fighting. Well, if they were playing clean. If they fought dirty it’d be a toss-up on who’d win. They’re both rather brutal.

72. What is your oc’s ideal environment like? Urban or natural? Fancy or rustic? What’s the weather like?

Matthias enjoys warm weather. He enjoys nature and likes tropical locations or locations that’re at a great distance away from other people. He likes being separate from everyone else at home… it gives him the space to drop the act and be who he really, truly is underneath it all. Space also allows him the clarity of knowing he’s just hearing things when he’s hallucinating. (Though, later this becomes unnecessary when Theo finds out about Matthias’s hallucinations and shows Matthias to record the things he thinks he’s hearing. If they don’t come through the recordings, then he knows they’re not real.)

73. If your oc were to be arrested, what would it most likely be for? Is it justified? Have they actually been arrested before?

Matthias has never actually been arrested, but if he were to be arrested for anything it’d be for public indecency, without question. Justified, obviously, because he’s fucking and sucking everywhere. 

74. How would your oc act when drunk? What about when really, really tired?

Matthias is very intense when he’s actually drunk. He’ll stare without talking for a long, unsettling amount of time. He forgets to mind his strength and leaves marks behind if he grabs an arm or a shoulder. He doesn’t shy away from voicing his thoughts, of which he doesn’t filter… meaning he says things that are weird and also deeply disturbing if he’s feeling angry (again, violent thoughts… he’s always had them). Matthias is also direct in a very blunt, unrefined way when he’s drunk—he’s always direct about what he wants, mind you, but normally he’s charming about it. The charm’s gone when he’s intoxicated. He’s incredibly meticulous about never drinking too much because of all of this.

When he hasn’t slept for days, I think he becomes… very quiet. He doesn’t even talk to himself, which is a thing he does frequently when alone (a habit from childhood). I think the softest he ever is is when he’s tired. Theo’s seen him like this a lot. He’ll lay his head down on Theo’s lap and just stare into space. If he speaks, it’s a few words at a time and that’s it. He becomes pliable… he’ll press into Theo’s touch and sigh… he’ll make quiet sounds of discomfort and hurt if Theo tries to shift away or leave. He’s clingy. The hallucinations are incessant if he hasn’t slept for a long time, so… I think that’s why he gets quiet. There’s already too much noise.

75. What would your oc’s dream home be like? How big would it be? What sorts of rooms would be in it? Where would it be located?

He doesn’t really have a dream home. To be clear, Matthias did actually buy himself a large home to his taste shortly after getting his inheritance… but it’s not like he’s attached to it. He doesn’t have that… desire for material things, including for where he lives. He dreams about locations, sure, but the actual house he lives in doesn’t factor into it. He just wants to live somewhere warm and in the heart of nature… he wants to always hear birds outside.

76. What is/was your oc’s relationship with their family like? Was it happy, tense, or abusive? What living family does your oc currently have, if any?

Matthias’s father died when he was fifteen and since then he’s been completely estranged from his mother as well. His relationships with both parents have always been nonexistent. His mother has resented him since birth and his father only saw him as a means to continue his legacy as well as a way to entrap his mother. Physical abuse came with his parents’ marriage, but Matthias is completely unaware of that fact as he was neglected and left on his own for nearly his entire childhood. I’d say he can hardly even recall a handful of instances where he interacted with his parents when he was young. Rather than being under the care of his parents as a child, Matthias was taken care of by the staff of the estate (who had orders not to interact with him more than necessary). He received no love, no praise, and no physical affection. He grew up on silence, literature, and the sounds of the birds in the gardens of his home. After his father promised him the entirety of his wealth in his will, his mother assaulted him physically and then sent him away to a reformation school that psychologically tortured and physically abused him until Imani got him out of there the day he turned eighteen.

77. Does your oc like to wear any particular accessories? Hats, jewelry, scarves, etc.?

The most Matthias wears are his driving gloves and one of his watches.

78. How socially skilled is your oc? Are they good at understanding social cues? How charismatic are they?

Matthias’s social skills are award winning. He’s exceptionally charismatic and well-mannered. Of course, that’s just for show. His grasp on social cues is stilted, but a smile can get him very, very far with that face and all that money.

79. For what reason would your oc turn into a villain? And if they’re already a villain, vice-versa?

Well… I think either way you view this question in relation to Matthias’s character, the answer is going to be because of Theo.

80. What is your oc’s handwriting like? How easy is it to read? Can they write/read cursive?

Matthias’s handwriting is clean and romantic. Huge swooping curves and artistic strokes. You can tell his handwriting has been something he’s worked very hard on perfecting. He writes in cursive most of the time, but not always. His print is sharp and clean, but not as extravagant.

81. How good is your oc at drawing? What is their preferred art medium, and what is their artstyle like?

Matthias is good at drawing. He draws in sketchbooks and prefers simple graphite pencils. His art style is observational realism. (Refer back to #19 for more on this.)

82. What would be your oc’s ultimate dream vacation? Where would they go? Who would they take with them? What would they do?

Whisking Theo away to wherever Theo will allow him to would be Matthias’s dream. Theo has many different responsibilities that he’s bound to… and, really, Matthias just wants to take him away from it all and keep him in bed for days. He wants Theo to rest and act on his own wants and desires for once. He wants Theo to be somewhere safe.

83. What is your oc’s favorite trait about themselves? What about their least liked? What would others like and dislike the most about your oc?

There’s nothing Matthias doesn’t like about himself, honestly. He favors his own intelligence the most.

I think he’s valued by others for his money the most, followed closely by his looks. Most people who haven’t been privy to Matthias with his mask off probably would say they feel uncomfortable when he goes silent and just… stares. If they’ve seen him without the pretense, then his derision is what they dislike most.

84. Is your oc more masculine, feminine, androgynous, or something else entirely?

I think he’s more masculine.

85. What would history remember your oc for? How would they become famous? Or are they the sort that would really only be appreciated long after their death?

In the Echthroi universe? Hm… he doesn’t covet fame in any way, so I can’t imagine it’d be because of anything he himself has willed. Maybe someone snaps a photo of him and posts it online and it blows up? I don’t know… he doesn’t even have any social media himself, so… yeah. I got nothing.

86. What would someone assume about your oc based on their appearance? Would those assumptions be correct?

Matthias has been carefully crafted to look exactly as haughty and duplicitous as he is.

87. What are some of your oc’s physical weak spots? What about emotional/moral ones?

He’s weak to being kissed behind his ears, touched along his spine, and having his head pet or his hair pulled. He’s weak to Theo and Imani… and there’s this small, trembling thing inside him that’s weak to his mother.

88. Does your oc hold grudges? For how long? Does your oc have any rivals?

Hm… I have a hard time imagining him carrying anger with him long enough to foster a grudge (outside of the grudges he has with his mother and the people at the reformation school he went to). I think if he had an issue with someone he’d do something about it rather than stew in it. And by “do something about it” I don’t mean by talking things out.

89. What does your oc’s laugh sound like? How often do they laugh? Are they easily amused?

Sexy. What? Who said that? 

No, but Matthias doesn’t genuinely laugh very often. Instead he has this rehearsed laugh that he uses to charm and manipulate in social settings. It sounds nice… breezy and light… a trustworthy kind of laugh.

His real laugh is actually pretty startling. Matthias’s voice is cold and seductive… dripping… but his laughter, when it’s honest and real, is rumbling and comes out at a much lower register. He laughs with his entire diaphragm. You can press your hand to the center of his chest and feel it rumble through your fingers. Theo actually jumped the first time he heard Matthias laugh. Matthias’s laugh is inviting and warm and always makes Theo all flustered. Even if you're immune to Matthias's looks and charm, his real laugh will draw you in.

90. Does your oc have any objects they could never give up? Why is it so important to them? Do they have any family heirlooms?

Matthias doesn’t form attachments to material objects and has nothing he holds on to. He also sees zero value in family heirlooms and his lineage as a whole. I suppose he does still have his family home (and other Evanoff homes) in his possession but he defiles it regularly.

91. What is your oc’s typical posture like? Do they slouch, or stand straight? How much space do they usually take up, both physically and figuratively?

Matthias (like Imani) was forced through years of etiquette lessons and has a very precise bearing with an easy upright posture, standing tall and elegant in the center of any room. He’s both physically large (he’s 6’3” and would potentially have been taller had it not been for his experiences at the reformation school while still growing) as well as figuratively; Matthias has a very… imposing presence and is at ease with himself no matter where he is.

92. What trait does your oc appreciate or admire the most in others? Why?

I believe it’s a three-way tie between intelligence, wit, and viciousness. Matthias doesn’t want to be bored by conversation and he seeks out stimulation and amusement to prevent that.

93. What is your oc’s preferred learning style? Observation, hands-on, instruction? Do they take notes or memorize?

He prefers to learn by himself through reading and observation. Obviously, though, there are some things he can't learn through simple observation and does actually seek those who're better educated to learn from—like his personal trainer and language tutors. He has a very good memory, but he takes notes regardless. He likes the activeness of pen and paper while learning.

94. Does your oc rely more on a logical or emotional mindset? What situations would this be the opposite?

Logical, definitely. Matthias experienced very little emotional output for most of his life and it was only once he truly bonded with Imani that he started to develop more sentimental feelings. When it comes to Theo, however, he becomes almost entirely ruled by emotion… nearly too much of it for him to bear.

95. How is your oc about keeping someone else’s secret? Are they the gossiping type, or do they hold true on their promise to keep things quiet?

He keeps secrets very well. It’s not that he feels especially beholden to keeping his word, but rather that he enjoys knowing that he’s the keeper of a hidden kind of knowledge. That said, when the secrets he’s keeping are on Imani and Theo’s behalf, it becomes much more about a sense of loyalty and love than about… mastery and power, I suppose.

96. Describe your oc in three words. What three words would they use to describe themselves?

I would describe Matthias best as a man who is intimidating, imposing, and impossible.

Matthias would describe himself as detestable, irresistible, and… a mouthful.

97. How old is your oc physically? How old are they in mental maturity? When are they most mature, and when are they the least?

Matthias is in his mid-twenties physically (I think 26-27 is a more solid answer, but nothing’s set in stone). Mentally… it’s complicated. When he was young he had a sort of agelessness about him… it was only when he first entered his teens (and the public) that I believe he began to act more like a real child and then more rapidly like a teenager. Abuse did a number on him, though, late in his teens… He’s both stuck at the ages he was during the worst of the abuse while also seeming older than he actually is. His maturity is best exemplified in crisis situations or when he’s taking care of someone (Theo…). Conversely, his maturity goes down the drain when he’s being stingy or possessive.

98. Is your oc the type to have a lot of fairly good friends, have a small group of close friends, have one or two best friends, or have no friends at all? Who are they closest to?

Matthias only has one best friend and that’s Imani, who is also the first friend he ever made (they've been friends since they were eleven and twelve, respectively). He’s also friends with Sehyuk but they aren’t particularly close. His relationship with Sehyuk is... one of convenience, I'd say, but they do have an interesting bond... Matthias is able to fully be himself around Sehyuk, which is rare for him.

99. What is your oc’s morning routine usually like? What do they eat for breakfast (if they have breakfast)? What time do they usually get up in the morning?

Matthias is an insomniac so most mornings he’s not actually waking up but rather was already there waiting for the sun to rise. Matthias will sit outside with coffee and a book in the morning and listen to the birds. If he’s having breakfast it’s most likely something light that compliments his coffee.

100. Does your character ever swear? How often? How vulgar is their swearing?

In casual conversation I’d say he doesn’t often swear since he’s more imaginative than just saying “fuck you” or similar phrases, but if he does swear in conversation he’s most likely doing it in Polish (pierdol się is easily what he says most). When he’s in someone’s ear talking dirty, however, he’s vulgar to the point of pearl clutching on his partner’s part.

[oldmisfortune]

Finally got to finishing the comic idea that's been haunting me lately ;; i got super lazy with some of the poses and just copy-pasted them xD i hope this amuses people as much as it amused me :)

This is happening in my personal alternative ANE where Ez got dragged back to the guard and Nevra isn't a stuck up at first anymore and oh look! My oc is also there!! (I haven't decided on a name yet ;;;;;;)

[ra-archives]

Hyrule is tired of the vets pining bullshit. Legend is tired of Hyrule in general. Wild just finds this all amusing, mostly, except when he's terrified.

LU-Tober Day 7

'Just Kiss Already' Prompt from a friend cause they think they're funny

I had a different plan for today but I ended up spending 6 hours painting a wall, so change of plans bc I needed to get this out quick and didn't have time.

Its not my fav piece or concept, but I also say that about half of my art pieces so-

Anyway, bird bois cause I think its cool and also they're my new go to when I just need to scribble a bit :>

[nuclearspring]

i know there's a little bit of info on him currently included in my roster but ! i wanted to cobble together a more detailed rundown of my courier (the sixth one) + his verses. he is a bit of an unreliable narrator, so i'm leaving gaps in this - thing is he doesn't know what's up, so neither shall we.

(that said, if anyone has ncr muses who could maybe piece some things together, hit me up. he can't keep getting away with this).

rough bio under the cut. trigger warnings for death, violence, drug use, the military, addiction + memory issues.

name & aliases: sasha dubrovhsky / boris medvedev / courier six. tag skills: unarmed, survival, guns. (note: given his backstory, he's proficient in these, and in stealth). age: late twenties / early thirties during the events of fallout new vegas. moving into his late thirties if in the tv show era. sexuality: bisexual. you know, for the extra damage. alignment: chaotic something. personality types: estp. enneagram 8. physical appearance: 6'3", buzzcut, brown eyes, cheekbones, numerous tattoos. imagine a large russian man who has clearly broken his nose more than once. he is russian jewish & roma ft. general slavic aura. always clean shaven if he can help it, but stubble happens to him frequently. if in the verse in which he's courier six, he will have two scars on his forehead courtesy of benny. notable features: speaking to six, one may get the sense that english isn't his first language. he doesn't really have much of a russian accent, but his cadence (especially when he is particularly tired), as well as his word choices can sometimes give him away.

he is also autistic, and may have adhd. both are undiagnosed. the latter may have something to do with six's mentat habit.

his face is rarely shown - he tends to wear full combat armour, helmet included.

the man who eventually becomes courier six is born in ncr territory to a family who are descended from vault 13, if a tad distantly (nobody in the family can track the exact lineage, nor have they tried).

six is born alexander dubrovhsky. his branch of the family are loyal to the ncr in some ways, though their primary ideology is born not of the ncr, but of memories of their heritage. sasha receives more of an education than he feels he needs, but he is a curious soul and enjoys picking apart the way of things. devours books when he can get them. is in trouble more than once in his childhood for taking things apart to see what makes them tick.

he is not yet of age when he enlists. he's tall and broad enough to pass for it, and nobody in ncr recruitment looks too deeply into the issue. even before taking two bullets to the forehead, he is an improviser - there's no real plan tied to his enlistment. he makes it through basic easily enough - can remember that fine. can remember being passed up for first recon so as not to waste his hand to hand abilities - he is, in a word, large. can remember being filtered into the rangers instead. can remember later leaving his dog tags on a corpse about his size. tossing the tags that had originally been on the corpse in question into the colorado river.

the why of it is unclear. but he remembers the bloodless panic, and in hindsight is certain he had something to do with that death. can't say for certain whether or not this is unlike him, but the potential will keep him watching himself out of the corner of his eye, waiting for some similar slip up.

he knows he picked his new name out of the past. boris was the name of some relative, he thinks. perhaps a distant cousin, perhaps not. medvedev, on the other hand, is born of the bear tattoo adorning his ribs. (two-headed, stick and poke, slightly weathered, scar cutting through it).

recalls a time, too, when he burns his armour and weighs his options. he knows how to kill things, and is the sort of person with at least a chance at surviving the wasteland. so far so good, anyway. he passes a town with a mojave express office, and volunteers himself for a job. from that point on, he is a courier.

post gunshots to the head, he'll wonder if the memory issues are new. thinks they must be. things improve with time, but some things, he thinks, will never come back to him.

he remembers just enough to feel like helping the ncr is the most deranged thing he's ever done. he does it anyway. that said, six saunters vaguely in the direction of socialism whenever possible.

he identifies a chem habit, but can't be sure he had it before he was shot. can remember snippets of things he used to know, and understands that a great deal of the information is barred now. one hobby of his is gathering it again.

choices in game:

these will be updated in time (i'm going to play again to refresh my memory on him), but he can either pick the independent or ncr route depending. if we're writing post game, his default is independent, though that was a difficult decision for him and he still feels two ways about it. he isn't a blind ncr loyalist by any stretch, and is aware that there are some in the ncr who'd string him up if they knew he'd deserted, but he is not immune to propaganda.

alternate depictions:

i have written him before as an ncr ranger spy who is only moonlighting as a courier, never properly deserted (because the desertion catalyst wasn't there; he made it through the battle of hoover dam in 2077 just fine in this verse), and didn't end up shot in the head in goodsprings. in that verse, he can be recruited as a companion - for anyone who's into that.

this version of him isn't as fleshed out right now (read: i don't remember most of the development i did when i was writing him this way) but i'll update this later, and i'm happy to plot things out on a character by character basis. he is generally motivated to fight the legion, and will in time become somewhat disillusioned with the ncr.

[meownotgood]

rough draft is nearly done... final fic will be 3k-5k words, and it will be posted sometime this week

interact if you'd like to be tagged <3 (but please have your age in your bio, otherwise you'll be ignored!)

[nordicbananas]

"SO I HAVE TO WONDER SOMETIMES--

shroom. they/her. very active, though i don't check dash as much anymore. feel free to go in my inbox though!

--HOW BEAUTIFUL MUST THE WORLD LOOK--

side blogs: art @multishroomm-draws, crochet @amigushroomie, spider notebook @spidershroomm, iwatex blog @exoshroommie. ask for url of selfship/mutuals only blog.

--THROUGH YOUR EYES?"

matching pfp from shikimori's not just a cutie with @the-twiggles! the lovely @melitheduck drew my banner <3

old pinned.

[everyitachi]

Happy birthday Itachi!

Hi! It's me again Laetitia @beatriceportinari from @everyizuna.

To the surprise of no one I couldn't live too long without another little screencaps blog, and I've chosen Itachi for this next one!

This will be similar to how I ran everyizuna: 2 (now 3) queued posts per day until it runs out.

Again don't hesitate to send me an ask for any clarification abt the inclusion of a panel, or if you think I've missed one!

Big thanks to the person who let me have the url and happy screencaps summer,

-Laetitia

[rhyme-thinks-stuff]

I'm going to start posting old art for repostober today!! My understanding is that it's a flexible challenge, so I'll be posting mostly art I haven't posted anywhere before (because I have a lot of it) and I've been working on a prompt list with weekly themes for myself because I think that'd be fun for me

but before I post the first old art, I think it's very important that people know that THIS THING!!

V V V

is what I used to draw things on for many years before I got my first sketchbook in February 2022

A large amount of the art I'll be sharing during repostober will probably safe fun drawn before February 2022, and will thus have been drawn on printer paper using this clipboard as a surface, and then stored inside said (increasingly heavy) clipboard until I got around to sorting the used pages out of the clipboard and into the archives

(these are The Archives btw) v v v

And This is my first sketchbook, Feb 2022 to April 2022!!

Currently I've completed 9 sketchbooks of varying sizes, 5 of which I've made cover art for

Getting an actual sketchbook turned out to be really good for me and my art, I started drawing a lot more when I didn't have to worry about things like clipboard space and paper spilling out and sorting things to make space and how much blank paper i had stored.

I could just turn a new page, draw on that, and keep going. Also after the first 2 sketchbooks, I got my first sketchbook with paper I could use watercolors on, and watercolors are great and the best and I love them very much!

When I look back at my time with Blue Clipboard nowadays, it's a feeling of nostalgia paired with a feeling of "I lived like this?!"

So I guess the lesson of this story is that change is good sometimes. And sketchbooks are pretty great

[scrapratsoldier]

MAIN VERSE | TIMELINE

34 BBY - Cal Kestis is born. 30 BBY - The Jedi take Cal Kestis (4 years old) as an Initiate. 22 BBY - The Clone Wars began. Jaro Tapal takes Cal Kestis (12 years old) as his Padawan learner. 19 BBY - Order 66. Cal Kestis (15 years old) crash lands on Bracca. He remains in hiding and works for the Scrapper's Guild. 14 BBY - The events of Jedi: Fallen Order. Cal Kestis (20 years old) is chased out of hiding by the Inquisition. He is rescued by Cere Junda and Greez Dritus, befriends Merrin, and destroys a holocron containing the names of Force-sensitive children. 12 BBY - The events of Jedi: Battle Scars (22 years old). TERRORIST 12 BBY - 09 BBY Cere, Cal, Merrin, and Greez all go their separate ways. Greez borrows Cal the Stinger Mantis, providing Cal and BD the means to continue taking the fight to the Empire. Cal runs missions for Saw Gererra, primarily with Bravo, Gabs, and the Klatooinian twins Koob and Lizz. During this time, Cal is single-mindedly focused on the cause and loses contact with his former allies, though your character could be among the others with whom he forges a relationship. SURVIVOR 09 BBY The events of Jedi: Survivor. Cal Kestis (25 years old) battles friends and foes for Tanalorr. Shortly after the job on Coruscant goes south, Bode coaxes Cal into an intimate relationship, initially as a means to get close to his mark, but ultimately getting closer than he intended, and they fall in love. Ever conflicted and fearing their time together is limited, Bode encourages Cal to grow his feelings for Merrin. While Merrin and Bode are not intimate, the two come to an agreement that the more support and love in Cal's life, the better. Cal struggles to reconcile his fear of attachment with this abundance. I PROMISE 09 BBY - BEYOND Reeling from the loss of Cere, Cordova, and Bode Akuna, Cal and his fellow survivors forge a path ahead. Cal grieves the loss of his first love (Bode Akuna) while he nourishes his new relationship with Merrin and navigates the demands of taking on a caretaker role for Bode's daughter, Kata. Cal and Merrin work to reconnect the broken network of the Hidden Path and establish a base of operations on Tanalorr.

[cnwolf-brainrot]

Just finished my Mikey fic for @asteroid-on-wolftopia ! This was written as part of the @mutantmayhemgiftexchange, which was an absolute blast! I loved participating in this but apparently I'm literally incapable of not writing angst :'D sorry, I hope you like it!!

[trashlie]

Nol and Kousuke; their continued parallels

I know I never shut up about parallels and mirroring and foiling but that’s something that I find so fascinating about ILY - the intentional set up of characters who can illuminate something else in another character, and how the way they respond similarly or differently to their similar scenarios makes or breaks them. For instance, we see in Nol and Shinae typically positive mirroring - where she has learned from him how to be a better friend and turned around and gave it right back to him. But we also see between Nol and Kouske’s parallels a tendency to fracture and create chaos. 

The more we learn about Nol and Kousuke, and their relationship, the more intrigued I grow about how they parallel each other, because I think they are more alike than they - and some readers - realize. Or, rather, I think Nol is at least aware of it to some degree, but Kousuke remains locked up inside his comfortable bubble. 

I don’t have a clear cut thought-process for this post lol so please bear with me - I’m just tossing around some thoughts I’ve been having. It’s a LOT of long-winded rambling lol I’m sorry in advance 

To some degree, Nol and Kousuke’s parentage is paralleled. Neither of them had much of a relationship with Rand - for Nol, he didn’t even know his father for years, and Kousuke may as well not have as busy as Rand always was. They also had a mother who loved them. I’m using this word loosely here because frankly I think Yui sees Kousuke as an extension of herself, rather than a person of his own, and thus I feel like her love is more of a means for what she wants but, that’s part of what I’m getting at, too. Kousuke interprets it as love, Kousuke believes that their family is unlike others and that they don’t show affection the same way, that nurturing isn’t the same, and that Yui wants what is best for him and guides him to that goal. On the flipside, we have Nol who, as far as we can tell thus far, had a mother who loved him and doted on him, was affectionate and warm and made him feel like he was special, gifting him with a special nickname. 

The foil goes further, too - Kousuke grew up wealthy and privileged, wanting for nothing, with the security afforded to the family heir who would go on to one day inherit the company and the fortune. Nol, on the other hand, we can tell didn’t have the same fortune as Kousuke, and we get the sense that the only abundance they had was of warmth and love. Or maybe that’s just my projection, haha. At any rate, we see the set up clearly: one is cold, lonely, but with all wants fulfilled*; the other warm and affectionate though they may not have had everything they wanted. 

It’s easy to see that Nol was nurtured. That he may not have had all materialistic wants met, but his basic needs were. When he first meets Kousuke, he exudes confidence and charm, he seems like a friendly child. We also can see in him, even if he buries it deep down, that Nol is deeply empathetic and understanding of people, and even if he did it for penance, he took it upon himself to help others - but more than that, he seems to intuitively understand what people need, because he understands the wants and needs of people. 

Kousuke, on the other hand, doesn’t have that same ability, because he lacks the experiences Nol has. When you’ve had to want for nothing* your whole life, when you are intelligent and successful, when you have every opportunity afforded to you, you grow to accept what you’ve been told your whole life: that you are the best, that you will go on to do great things, that you are above these other baser needs. It was through the internalized belief that becoming better will make his father love him, that he could earn his father’s love by being just like him, that he would impress him and receive the love and attention he craved. So Kousuke never developed that understanding of the importance of friendship and peers, never learned the strife and trials others endure. He knows he’s privileged, but he also knew that empathy was beneath him, because he had no need to engage with others, because he knows his place and it’s above others. 

We haven’t seen young Nol interactions with kids his age outside of the teasing about his name, but it’s safe to guess that he probably had a pretty decent childhood before he and his mother moved closer to Rand. Kousuke on the other hand admits that he knows no one likes him, that he lacks the personality and charisma Nol possesses, that he fears he acquired none of Rand’s good traits and only the ones that made him the most like him in the worst way. 

Idk this is something I like to talk and think about, because it’s not clearly not simply a story of have vs have nots, or, well it isn’t so cut and dry. Because to some degree I guess it is. Nol had something that Kousuke didn’t - that affectionate nurturing, someone who gave him reassurance and warmth, someone who made him feel love. Does Kousuke feel love towards his mother? Does he even feel love towards his father? At a very young age he internalized that love is different for them, and he also internalized a transactional sense of love. That he must be worthy of love, that he must earn it. He forsook the activities a normal child his age should have engaged in and instead set himself on a one-track quest to chase after the one thing he ever wanted but couldn’t obtain: his father’s love. 

Though it can be argued Yui loves Kousuke, it doesn’t negate that he grew up in the face of neglect, and that he so deeply internalized this neglect until it poisoned him and grew from him an ugly, thorny bush that has him deeply caught within it. I think that’s the thing that’s saddest to me about Kousuke - he had everything he could want but for the one thing he truly desperately wanted, and it clouded him so strongly that he couldn’t see beyond it. It turned him into someone jealous and unhappy, someone who couldn’t bear to live with the idea that someone else might have had what he wanted, that someone else had experienced it, someone who wasn’t (in his mind) good enough. 

Kousuke believes that in order to win his father’s affection, he has to be good enough. And how could this illegitimate child possibly be good enough to win it? This illegitimate child who was nearly a spitting image of Rand, who had a bright smile and laughed. This child who emanated every positive trait used to describe Rand - every positive trait Kousuke had never born witness to. 

And because Nol wasn’t good enough because he was insatiably jealous the fear took root. Fear that nothing he did would ever matter, fear that Nol who already had beat him when it came to genetics, could possibly best him again. 

That neglect played so heavily into Kousuke’s identity that he has yet to separate himself from it, has acknowledged the way he is driven by fear and jealousy, that he couldn’t bear the idea of Nol ever besting him and did all he could to tear him down, to ensure he never could. And that’s the thing - Kousuke wasn’t wrong, although he wasn’t correct, either. Nol could have bested him, just not the way he feared. And, until now, he had chosen not to.

That’s the biggest difference in where Nol and Kousuke foil each other. Kousuke was raised with cold, lacked the kind of warm nurturing Nol had, learned love to be transactional, and that neglect turned into want and grew into jealousy and fear so intense that he had to tear someone down. But where Kousuke was raised in a corporate family, by business minded people who had no room for empathy and certainly not for those beneath him, by people who needed to be cunning and make calculated choices, Nol was raised by someone who seemed to exude warmth and instill in him the kinds of morals that were beneath Kousuke. Nol came to this new home equipped with empathy, and also with a gaping hole of want. 

Over and over Nol reached out to Kousuke, wanting to help him fill that hole of his own, hoping for a companion, for a buddy, to be part of a team. That even if they felt small - and though Kousuke may have felt otherwise, Rand certainly made him feel small and not good enough - they could have been together, they could have lifted each other up. Nol learned at an early age what it was like to have an ally, to have someone on your side, to have someone you were able to show your weakness to. Kousuke never did; he had to be perfect at all times. He could never make a misstep, lest he disappoint father, lest he set himself back on his quest for his father’s love.

And this further came to manifest as they grew older. Where Kousuke’s neglect turned him jealous and fearful, Nol’s didn’t really externalize the way Kousuke’s did. Even though he was punched down by Kousuke and attacked, even though we know his experiences with Yui still cause him fear, even though he, too, suffers from disappointing Rand, Nol never really took it out on Kousuke, the way Kousuke did to him. I think there’s another reason to it, but I do think his sense of empathy played a strong role, here. As someone going through it, and worse, Nol understood what it was like to feel like you weren’t good enough, that no matter what you did you would never make a difference. Over and over again he appealed to Kousuke knowing he wasn’t good enough in his eyes, but hoping one day he would be. He understood! 

That’s not to say that he hasn’t fought back because we’ve certainly seen that throughout ILY Nol has started to push back more, that more and more his veneer has changed and he’s gone from obedient for the sake of keeping peace to going toe to toe with Kousuke and finally voicing his feelings. But I think even up until the night before his court date, Nol hoped one day  he would reach Kousuke, that maybe there was something left in him that was salvageable. 

But that’s not all! I think that’s the most obvious way that Nol and Kousuke foil each other, because it constitutes for so much of who they are, of their core identities. Nol made a point to distance himself from people out of both a fear that he would bring harm to others and a deeply held belief that he didn’t even deserve that kindness. And yet he still reached out to people who needed that help. Even though his motivation stemmed from a selfish place (his penance), it still was an act of kindness, it was still him empathizing with people and playing his part to benefit them. Kousuke, though, came from an environment that encouraged every man for himself, that there’s no good in softness, that you had to be hard to be strong you had to be above your feelings, that you had to be the best, that people were beneath you and you had to ensure they knew it. 

And yet, Nol and Kousuke both are SO SIMILAR in ways that they don’t seem to realize, I think, because they are so blinded by the very thing that makes them so similar. 

Especially at this current stage of the story, we see that both Nol and Kousuke are at war with themselves. Or rather, there’s a battle raging on within each of them, both of them contending what they believe to be true and actual reality. 

Kousuke has spent a long time projecting on Nol. We’ve been seeing it for many episodes, all the way back to the night he got drunk at the club with Kousuke and Yujing and all the voices he “heard”, people talking about him and saying things that were, frankly, true. Things that deep down he knows to be true of himself. We’ve seen him lie to himself on MANY occasions, usually to placate himself. We’ve also seen times he’s stated things with eyes closed, impying some kind of mask or lie. One that I remember off the top of my head really clearly was when Nol and Shinae were bickering about his jacket at dinner, and Kousuke told them they’re ridiculous, they’re acting like children. But looking back on it, doesn’t it feel more like a moment of Kousuke’s jealousy he spoke of? That Nol is someone so good natured and easy to get along with, that people just naturally get along with him. He doesn’t have these kinds of frivolous relationships with people, doesn’t even allow himself them because there’s no time he has better things to be doing. 

But by stuffing down these little truths, by squashing down his insecurities and fears, by lying to himself at each opportunity, Kousuke plays heavily into the world he believes in, and it’s clear to us readers that the world he believes in is not, in fact, true. 

Quimchee has talked before about how memory plays a role in this story - and that there isn’t one true memory, because everyone’s memory is biased by their own views, their own feelings. Memories are malleable - over and over you remember things and details change and you can’t quite recall what was or wasn’t true. 

Kousuke speaks with such conviction of things that aren’t entirely true. Even recently, he said to Nol “Do you know how much trouble I’m in with father because of you?” even though he’d just had a phone call with Rand reassuring him he was not, in fact, in trouble, and that all Rand wanted was to know they are safe. But it doesn’t compute with what Kousuke knows to be true - that Rand will be disappointed in him, that he is Nol’s keeper, that it’s his job to keep an eye on Nol, so he dismisses the truth and reverts back to his own version of things. 

Not only that, but even the aftermath of that call roughed him up and worked him up so much it set him off on a spiral. Kousuke was dealing with a lot that night, especially with what he believes is expected of him. He was already high tension long before Nol jumped into the pool, and long before that call with Rand, but by the time he shows up at the Parks’ house, he’s full on spiraling, ruder than usual, meaner than he tends to allow himself to look in front of others (he prides himself on being a gentleman and understanding the importance of decorum and a good public image). 

When reality tests his false reality, it sets him off. He can’t handle the dissonance between the two, is incapable of facing that what he deeply believes to be true may not be. Because if that isn’t true, what else isn’t it? And from what we saw after he punched Nol and he took that fall, there’s something buried deep in Kousuke’s subconscious that he cannot face, that he refuses to. Something that he is protecting himself from. 

“Sometimes those that experience trauma create falsified memories to cope.” 

Kousuke is speaking of Nol, but I’m pretty sure he’s projecting. He’s the one, I think, with the falsified memory (though I’ll get to Nol in a moment). He is the one who has come away from that night Nol was taken away the inherent belief that Nol is unstable and violent, that Nol attacked him, that he is constantly laying an attack on him. He’s paranoid of Nol at every turn and takes every success Nol has as a slight against him. Maybe Nol was planning all along to use Oxford as an opportunity to best Kousuke and threaten him. But Kousuke never even considered an alternative. I think there’s even a likelihood that he got in the way of Nol and Shinae’s growing friendship not only to isolate Nol again, but because that jealousy still eats him up: that Nol is so personable and likable, that he just has a way with people who end up genuinely liking him, whereas no one likes Kousuke; he lacks what Nol has that makes him so likeable. But anything Nol does that looks like success is a slight against Kousuke. He can’t bear to see him rise up, lest he ever rise high enough to eclipse Kousuke. 

And while it’s very believable Nol is the violent one - because we’ve seen him lash out already and we know about his punching bag and what angers does to him and how he relieves it - we also have to wonder. If Nol was the one who attacked, why was Kousuke the one huff huff huffing in his memory, just like after punching Nol? It doesn’t match up with Nol’s memory - asking what he did wrong insisting he didn’t do anything. We’ve already established memories can be falsified - so whose is? What is it that is so traumatic about this experience that Kousuke couldn’t clearly recall it? There’s a whole post to be said about that memory and why we should be wary of its accuracy based on the coloring but that’s not for me to write (someone else on reddit has said they are working on it and I look forward to it!) but the point is: Kousuke is probably the one coping with falsified memories, with a false reality. 

But he’s also not quite wrong, I think. Like I said, this is where Nol and Kousuke overlap in similarities. 

It’s harder to state for certainty regarding Nol, since it’s just conjecture at this point, but I think it’s safe to say that Nol’s inherent belief that he is a monster, that he is a villain, is part of a falsified reality, and I think his was born out of the time he spent in that mental facility. In fact, a lot of Nol’s other trauma reactions seem to be born of that time. He’s vehemently against medicine, he doesn’t like to be in hospitals, his entire reaction when he woke up thinking he was back at Hirahara Memorial alone is enough to deduce that the time Nol was there was awful and irrevocably changed him. Is that where the belief that he’s a monster was born? Was it through Kousuke’s emotional abuse and the time he spent in the mental facility that Nol came to regard himself so lowly, that he came to believe everyone is better off without him, that he can only bring danger and badness to people he cares about? 

We’re obviously missing a few puzzle pieces here, but I think it’s a safe guess. Did something happen to his mom as a result of her pregnancy or his birth, or is it more than something happened to her and he feels like it wouldn’t have if he’d never been born? It feels like something happened and he was made to internalize it. Not all “mental facilities” are good, and not all have the good of the kids in mind. And worse, with Yui’s connections to the hospital, it’s likely that what was “meant to be” help was the complete opposite. I feel like that’s why Nol has internalized it so deeply; it’s something that was pressed upon him at a vulnerable time and it completely changed the way he views himself and how he thinks he’s reflected to the world. 

Kousuke clings to his falsified reality for comfort, Nol hides in his because he has nowhere else to go. Kousuke is afraid of reality and the truth, Nol is incapable of even seeing it! And even here, where they are so alike, they still react differently. When faced with dissonance between his reality and actual reality, Kousuke externalizes it, starts spiraling and grows angry. (Or, we could say.... he becomes.... unstable?) Nol, though, internalizes his and delves deeper into that dark. 

Now, I’m not saying there’s no case for Nol having ever attacked Kousuke. But I also wonder if we aren’t supposed to think deeper on this. Nol looks like he’s violent based on this altercation with Kousuke and what we saw with Sangchul, and how hard it is for him to bite back his anger. But we also know Kousuke to be an unstable person - he struggles with reconciling truth with what he believes and when he gets overwhelmed and stressed, he becomes irascible and paranoid - and some of that paranoia seems to leak the truth he’s fighting. But that’s not what this post is about lol. 

The point is, both Nol and Kousuke are struggling to reconcile what they believe and what is really true. So much of Kousuke’s peace seems to hinge on what he believes - it’s so easy to tip the scale and lead him into a spiral as he fights off the truth. Control is what makes him feel powerful - not in just the lording over people way, but over his own mental state. He needs everything to adhere to what he believes, lest he have to face something he isn’t ready for, something that will change everything he believes. He needs to believe that what he knows to be true, because who is he, what is he, if it isn’t? What of the years he spent grinding and trying his best to meet someone’s approval if it was all in vain? 

But Nol struggles with his falsified reality because he believes himself to be dangerous and undeserving. Who is he, to think he deserves friendship, to think he deserves kindness? Who is he to think he deserves comfort. For what he believes he’s done, he must suffer and any form of peace is undeserved - even dying. But we see that he is starting to struggle with that - he has formed friends he thinks he doesn’t deserve and they care about him. He is allowing himself moments of relying on others, of accepting their comfort. How does he reconcile his internalized beliefs with what he is finding himself wanting?

If we are to take their drunken states to be indicative of some truths they cannot face - like Kousuke’s paranoia that people are talking about him, that they are saying horrible (but true) things about him as a reflection of how he sees himself and what he believes of himself, then Nol fighting with Alyssa and stating that he doesn’t even want to be there, that there’s somewhere else he’d rather be is indicative of the truth he is denying, seeing in a group of strangers the people he’s yearning for. Just because he doesn’t believe he deserves it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it. As much as Nol believes he’s a monster meant to be vilified, he still craves the comfort that comes from his friends. He still wants to be around people who DO love him, around people who see the good in him. 

They both struggle to reconcile this with reality. Kousuke can’t face who he really is, that he spent his whole life trying to earn affection that should have been given. He left no room in his life for anything he enjoyed because there was one desire that trumped it all, one reward that would justify the means. Who is he if what he believes isn’t true. What has he lived for, if he will never obtain his strongest desire? How do you live with yourself, when you realize that? So he runs from it, he takes shelter in something that makes sense, that makes him feel better, that grants him the control he needs. And Nol runs from his truth, because what he believes - that he is a monster - is something he can’t let go of, lest he bring more harm to people he cares about. He has to evade it, lest the truth catch him - that maybe he isn’t the monster he believes, that maybe he does deserve the love he craves. How can he continue to evade it, though, unless he continues to believe in his truth? 

I really look forward to seeing what Nol and Kousuke make of these scenarios, of whether or not they ever choose to accept/embrace reality (or if it has to be pushed on them). In a sense, they both reside in these falsified realities for a sense of control and security. Maybe Nol knows deep down that he can’t control what happens to the people he loves, so he just hopes by distancing himself he can control that much. They both face very difficult choices and have a lot of demons to confront, and I want to see they’ll ever find where they overlap again or if they will choose forked paths. 

It all boils down to this: Nol and Kousuke are both prisoner of their own minds, in some way. Neither of them can move forward until they tackle that, but it’s such an intrinsically woven part of them, how are they to shed that? That’s what I’m dying to see. 

[pridelessdaydreamer]

jarring, perhaps-?

A Devoted Hearts Starter

Linhardt actually arrives at a decent time.

Of course, he is by no means early, and it’d be charitable to say he arrived at the stated time, but he’s not horribly late, so. That’s worth something, isn’t it?

At the very minimum, it’s not like he just woke up from a nap and then left. Today was a special occasion (to most), and so, out of some mild respect, Lin decided to actually dress up. (That isn’t why he was late, of course. He’d simply taken his time getting there.) His gaze glides across the room, and he notes almost everyone else looks nice as well. That’s nice.

Then he finds a spot to sit and take a nice nap.

He doesn’t do so, however, without first setting out his clue. Normally, he would have a white ribbon as a part of his outfit, — and even now, he had one tied around his wrist, — but the prompt asked him to bring a treasured item in a jar, and this was the closest thing he had to that. A white ribbon in a jar. A compelling conversation starter.

Lin yawns, stretching out in his chair and letting the time pass by.

[daturanerium]

okay not to be like that but like. the entire series has been pushing the message that lyctorhood and perfect lyctorhood is not a good thing. everyone who has participated in the lyctorhood process has said "don't participate in the lyctorhood process" except pal & cam, and when cam and pal eventually do achieve perfect lyctorhood or something close it's not presented as a good thing--it's neutral and bittersweet at best. lyctorhood is the ultimate individual sacrifice. "here's to camilla hect, another one of devotion's casualties". "going to parties, self-actualising, reshaping your identity? i don't suppose you had much scope for it before", etc. etc. etc. just from nona, not to even mention the other two books. it's just very surprising that the book is so obvious about lyctorhood not being a good thing but ppl still talk about griddlehark perfect lyctorhood as a happy ending. is it possible? yeah for sure. knowing these girls' histories and behavioral patterns it could for sure happen. but is it truly a walk-into-the-sunset ending for gideon and harrow? i'm really not so sure. if that's what you're rooting for all power to you, but personally based of what i've seen i'm only interested if tazmuir treats it as the tragic ending she has been building up towards.

[queenofthegalaxxy]

[[ Starter for @maddmuses (Conner)!]]

At first, this all had been only a necessary waste of time. Stay with the team, befriend them and make very very very sure that they wouldn't be looking for Starfire. She could have left a week or two after Starfire left, but then there was the urge to prove herself better. To become a better friend to her little sister's friends, a more valuable asset of the team, just in general be way better than Starfire ever had been. So, Blackfire stayed a while longer, by now rather certain that even if the team would for some reason still start to search for Starfire and despite the barely existing chances actually find her, there was absolutely no way back for Starfire at all.

She had probably proven by now how useful she could be, too, given all the enemies she now had already faced with the team, so she could leave. And she would, because following along the rules of heroes for their missions was really annoying at times and she had to be careful to not let too much of her actual (lack of) morals show through - but. There were some fascinating people here, she had to admit that. Sure, they were heroes, but that aside, Blackfire kinda enjoyed hanging out and being part of this group. Kon was one of the ones that Blackfire found especially fascinating, and right now, he was in the Tower for a visit.

With no trouble currently being there, it was a leisure time for the team, which meant some routinely patrols and trainings but otherwise no real activities planned. Or in other words - booooooring. Having lounged on the couch and trying to find something interesting in the TV for a while already, Blackfire now glanced over to Kon, who seemingly was trying the same or perhaps simply didn't know anything else he could do.

"Hey, Kon. You up for some 'patrol'?" She gestured some quotation around that word, because while it was a good excuse, it wasn't really what she was suggesting. "I'm gonna die from boredom if I stay like this much longer." She had before made it obvious that she was not a good option for patrols - she claimed to never notice the crimes that happened nearby when she was out, though the truth was that she simply didn't care about stepping in when something happened - so this might be a weird offer if one didn't notice her gesture; but it wasn't really patrol she was suggesting after all. If he'd understand that didn't really matter, she could always explain herself more once they were on the move. Patrol was simply the best-sounding excuse to go for the city, if she wanted to make herself sound like a caring hero.