#merits wig

[nowoolallowed]

Merit’s wig - Museo Egizio Collection

Inventory Number: S. 8499 New Kingdom, Pre Ramesside, Dynasty 18. 1425–1353 BCE. Reign: Amenhotep II / Tuthmosis IV / Amenhotep III Location Information: Deir el Medina / tomb of Kha (TT8)

Description:

Another exceptional artifact that belonged to Merit is her wig, made with real locks of hair that were sewn together and braided. The hair is parted in the middle and curled into ringlets that end with braids on either side of the face and on the back of the neck. This type of hairdo was often decorated with flowers and diadems, which were very fashionable in the mid-18th dynasty, as can be seen in the paintings and statues of the period.

[themagicalghost]

Soon

[little-candy-store-of-horrors]

I receive Cursed Header Image you receive Cursed Anime fanart @oldfritz

Favourite Details:

[bandtrees]

maybe it’s just my experiences growing up on this sorta thing but i really do hate the assumption from fellow Antis™️ sometimes that violence and gore a la edgy fanart or creepypasta or horror is on the same level as like… exposing kids to porn

[thelibrarian1895]

If your sibling is a rogue then make the best of it

I would like to think that Jason is very Hondo Onakha about kidnapping, very dramatic, fairly polite/chill to the one he kidnapped, minimal trauma, very professional overall but also very theatrical. Out of anyone in Gotham to have as your kidnapper, Jason aka the Red Hood is by far the very best person.

ALL of Jason's family whether they be legal, biological, emotional, or honorary, will absolutely try to convince Jason to kidnap them to get them out of some stupid civilian event. Whether or not Jason will go along with it will depend on several factors such as:

Does this benefit Bruce and get him out of a boring civilian event too? Then so sorry, you're just going to have to suffer!

How busy is Jason at the moment? Because being a drug lord and vigilante is actually pretty time consuming and kidnapping can be a lot of work for potentially very little gain.

What does Jason get out of it? Yes money is all well and good but Jason is rich by his own merits and can just steal from Bruce whenever, there's got to be more to it!

When is the last time Jason has kidnapped this sibling? He can't do it too often or it gets less effective. He has a reputation to maintain after all!

It may also depend on which sib is asking and what they need to be "saved" from.

Dick asks to be kidnapped from a bachelor auction charity? Ha! No chance, sorry Dickie! He will be there though and take pictures and laugh. (And also join all the other siblings who are stalking Dick and the winner of the auction in the event the winner wasn't one of the Bats or an invited member of the JL or Titans using Bruce's money) Dick asking to be kidnapped from a gala or some opening night of trendy place he's at to maintain civilian status? Maybe but the bribe has to be considerable. And it cannot benefit Bruce. Dick's normal bribes consist of taking some tedious part of an investigation over for Jason or getting intel from JL databases for Jason and the Outlaws.

Cass? Anytime and always, favorite sister who can beat him up has special kidnapping privileges, though they did stop for a very long time when some weirdos put out the theory that the Red Hood was in love with Gotham's Princess. (idk if Cass is considered Gotham's Princess in any version of canon but she is to me) Cass does still repay Jason in the form of Black Bat keeping an eye on Jason's territory when he's out of Gotham for any significant length of time.

Tim? He does owe the kid for several incidents and Tim normally doesn't abusive the privilege so he'd probably do it but there does have to be some sort of bribe for appearances sake. Tim usually gets Jason to agree in exchange for pictures of Batman tripping over his cape or in some other ridiculous position. Bonus in Jason's mind if Tim requests a kidnapping when Bruce is off world or otherwise occupied, therefore giving Brucie Wayne's reputation a hit. However if Tim wants to be kidnapped from something where Bruce is also suffering as Brucie, Tim is SOL (Tim might get revenge by getting Kon to wear Red Hood gear and "kidnap" Tim from the event if Jason refused. Kon will do it because Tim asked and also I would like to think that Kon isn't too fond of the guy who beat his best friend/boyfriend nearly to death and will mess with him if given the chance) Since kidnapping normally interferes with things that Tim wants to do however, he may instead bribe Jason to not kidnap a sibling that has asked to be kidnapped. Jason usually obliges this no kidnapping request.

Barbara? Sorry, no, he doesn't want to stress the Commissioner like that. He will, however, kidnap other people for her if she asks.

Stephanie? No Stephanie, he doesn't care what you offer, he's not kidnapping you so you can avoid your finals! Stephanie has, however, worn various wigs and been various hostages who died at the hands of the Hood in order to maintain his reputation. She gets paid in baked goods for her service.

Damian? Damian considered the idea ridiculous and proclaimed he'd never stoop so low and he would carry out his duties no matter how onerous! Damian then had to go to a Gotham gala. Damian is trying very hard to figure out a suitable bribe to get the Red Hood to kidnap him often enough that Bruce will be forced to keep Damian away from galas because of the ongoing security threat. So far it hasn't worked because Damian is very bad at bribing Jason, Jason thinks Damian forced to interact with normal people is funny, and Tim is successfully bribing Jason to ignore Damian's bribery attempts. The Red Hood has "kidnapped" Damian once, as a treat, when he thought the kid was looking particularly down about something.

Duke? Duke has yet to be made to attend any society gatherings as the solo Wayne (normally that falls to Bruce, Dick, or Tim) and can usually be spotted hanging out with Cass by the snack table at any gala or trendy event. He's not at Cass's level of reading body language but he's pretty darn good and he and Cass have reached a new level of being able to avoid annoying rich people while at parties. Duke is Cass's favorite gala buddy. Duke hasn't felt the need to ask Jason to kidnap him yet but Jason will allow the first one to be free of charge, no questions asked. After that Duke hasn't figured out suitable bribes for Jason but has realized that all of his siblings are hyper competitive and that Jason would absolutely wager a kidnapping in a competition or for a bet.

Alfred? If Alfred asked then Jason would without any caveat. Alfred will not ask however but might ask on behalf of someone else and Jason will comply.

Bruce? Jason just laughs. And if someone else is planning on kidnapping Brucie Wayne from a particularly boring business meeting or gala? Jason will actively thwart the kidnapping to force Bruce to continue to deal with social activity.

Jason usually splits a portion of the ransom money into bonuses for his goons since their original job outline is drug dealer/enforcer/mobster and not kidnapper. If they're going to get major felonies on their records, better make it financially worth it. All of Jason's goons are masked during any kidnapping event. The rest of the ransom money goes towards a charity of Jason's choosing.

Jason has also kidnapped people who are not his family or family adjacent. Barbara thought her dad could use a vacation at one point but he didn't have the PTO for it so Barbara had the Red Hood kidnap him. James Gordon experienced the weirdest kidnapping of his life that included some of the best food he'd ever eaten, an extremely soft bed, his pile of books that were on his reading list, and access to the sports games he'd meant to watch. The ransom was successfully paid after he had a week to relax. Gordon was then, as per protocol, allowed time to relax after his "harrowing" event. Barbara forced him to take the time. Strangely enough, some politicians who had been giving the Commissioner a hard time were suddenly very quiet when James Gordon came back, well rested, well fed, and ready to get back to the grind. It, of course, had nothing to do with the very polite emails with pictures attached that they all received while the Commissioner was very publicly out of the way.

Oliver Queen, when he was visiting Gotham, was kidnapped by the Red Hood. He was released after the ransom was paid and specifically he was released back in Star City. Mr. Queen was unavailable for comment after the incident but some sources say that he was cursing bats for some reason.

Lois Lane found herself kidnapped by Red Hood and ransomed by the Daily Planet while Superman was off world. Lois Lane returned safely to Metropolis and published a shocking expose on Luthor's latest scheme. Her sources for the article remain a secret.

Bruce is very grumpy about the whole thing, not just because Jason won't help his poor father get out of the stupid social event, but also because Jason being technically a rogue like this makes it very hard for him to successfully argue that Jason should let himself regain legal living status.

[theladyofbloodshed]

Happy Halloween!

‘Nes, picture this. Gates open at dusk. Nobody leaves until dawn. There’s a whole section of rides. A zombie maze. And a haunted house with three floors.’

Nesta wrinkled up her nose and slapped the brochure that Cassian had thrust under her nose away. ‘Why would I want to picture it when you have jammed it so close to my face that it is the only thing I can see?’

‘So, is that a yes?’

Cassian waited for her answer, an excited smile dominating his expression. Nesta hated Halloween. Hated anything to do with it. Hated motion activated skeletons that gave a warble when she walked by, hated the lurid orange colour that plastered every aisle, and absolutely despised the smell of rotting pumpkins. He knew it.

‘Yes, you may go. I will stay here with the lights off so nobody rings my doorbell.’

Cassian let out a snore. ‘You’re no fun.’

Horror movies were fine. Nothing particularly scared her about them. The acting was generally terrible, the effects even worse, and all of them put women through hell while they wore few clothes. It was the ridiculous hype weeks before that she hated. There was absolutely no need for it.  

‘Go and play with Rhys or Azriel,’ she said, reaching around him for her book.

‘They are already coming. I have to buy the tickets and I’m going to look like an idiot if you don’t come along.’

Nesta snorted. ‘I have bad news, Cassian. You look like an idiot regardless of my presence.’

Cassian clutched his chest. ‘Ouch. Somebody hasn’t had their nap today.’

Maybe her words had been a little bit too harsh. For a few weeks now, she had been debating their relationship and the merits of continuing it. They had more bad days than good. Arguments were their common currency. The relationship was becoming stagnant. He made it difficult to visualise a future when he still had the mental age of a teenage boy and lived in Rhysand's basement. But Cassian was also kind and funny, willing to cut the heart from his chest for his family. It wasn’t fair to keep hurting his feelings when her mind swung one way. She knew they were close to breaking point, he did too.

‘Fine. Book the tickets.’

A kiss was pressed to her cheek. ‘You are the best.’

***

Halloween dawned on them. Nesta had begrudgingly agreed to wear a costume for their night time festivities. She’d have sworn that Cassian preferred Halloween over Christmas as he’d barely been able to contain his excitement in the run up to the holiday. Nesta had lost count of the amount of times she’d returned home from work to a prank that had her clenching her jaw shut or threatening to take back the key she had offered to him for her home.

‘It’s called trick or treat, Nes. You can’t just eat candy without the trick side.’

‘I pay for the candy, so I can do what I want,’ she snapped. ‘Save your pranks for April Fool’s Day. It’s named after you.’

Cassian gave a slight grimace then hurried towards the bedroom. It had been a long day at work and now she was expected to stay up all night at a ridiculous spooktacular, as they called it, which meant she’d be grumpy all weekend from a lack of sleep.

When Cassian returned, he was whistling a tune and carrying a red bucket filled with water that he tipped down the sink.

‘Was that meant to fall on my head?’

‘I’m pleading the fifth,’ he replied.

Nesta let out a low laugh. ‘Oh, I could have really decorated the place in the spirit of things if that had happened to me.’

‘If I ever turn up dead one day, you have made so many threats that you will be the prime suspect.’

They got ready at her place. She opted for Morticia Addams because it meant she only needed to purchase a crappy wig and wear a dress she rarely wore, rather than buy a plastic costume that was a fire hazard. His phone was buzzing constantly. She risked a glimpse at the screen and it was plastered with messages from Feyre, Mor, Rhys, and Azriel telling them to hurry up because they needed to go. Cassian was still in the bathroom. She’d heard him grunting and swearing in between his razor buzzing. He’d stayed quiet on his costume, telling her it would be a big secret.

When he finally did emerge, Nesta burst out laughing.

‘What the hell are you supposed to be?’

‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’

His face was bright red and caked in face paint. It was all over his hands and neck too. Cassian had even shaved off most of the scruff on his face, but left a soul patch in its stead.

‘You look like a fucking tomato!’

Trying to hold onto his dignity, Cassian added a pair of plastic red horns to his head and picked up a pitchfork.

‘I’m the devil,’ he said in a tone that sounded as if he’d like the earth to split under his feet so hell could call him home. ‘I saw a tutorial, but it seems I lack the skills with face paint and liquid latex to do it justice.’

Nesta couldn’t muster a reply. He looked hilarious. It was only when she scanned his body that she took in the tight-fitting, red Lycra outfit which wouldn’t be out of place in an eighties fitness video - and the knee high black boots over it.

‘Are you the devil from The Powerpuff Girls or what?’

He let out a long groan as his phone continued to buzz with notifications.

‘Go and wash it off. Please. I am begging you.’

‘I tried! It has stained my skin bright red so I look like I’m having an allergic reaction. It’s better if it stays on.’

‘Really?’ Nesta threw up her hands. ‘We will be late. It’s dark. Nobody will notice how bad it looks.’

They hurried down the road where the rest of their group was waiting for them by Rhys’ car. Azriel, the designated driver because he never needed sleep, honked the horn in greeting. Rhys and Feyre had matched their outfits as Harley Quinn and the Joker. Mor had dressed as some sort of sexy red riding hood in a gingham dress that skimmed her thighs matched with knee high socks and a red hood.  

Feyre let out a horrified shriek of laughter. ‘What the fuck are you, Cass?’

He turned to Nesta, eyes pleading. ‘You said they wouldn’t notice in the dark.’

‘You are glowing red,’ remarked Rhys. ‘Even the man in the moon can see you.’

In a bad mood, Cassian clambered into the back of the car. It lowered beneath his weight. Nesta had to press her lips together to stop her laughter from making the situation worse. She wasn’t able to make eye contact with Feyre or that would set her off.

‘I’ll try and talk to him,’ said Mor as they began to file into the car.

It left Nesta riding shotgun with Azriel. She scanned him for some sort of clue to his costume, but in the end, she needed to ask.

‘An axe murderer,’ he replied, pulling a plastic axe from his coat. ‘They look like everybody else.’

‘Good choice.’

The key turned in the ignition and he grumbled, ‘I hate Halloween.’

***

If one more dumbass jumped out at Nesta in the queue, she would punch them. She didn’t care if it was their job to scare guests. Anybody who got paid to shout boo needed a better job.

‘Is it too late to turn back?’

Azriel drawled out a laugh. ‘I don’t think Cass will ever forgive us if we leave.’

Her overgrown boyfriend was alight with anticipation. He didn’t need to crane his neck to look towards the start of the queue as he was gigantic, but he still lamented that they’re arrived too late. There were so many better costumes he could have gone for. The iron giant. Frankenstein’s monster. Mothman. Not a tomato with an outfit so tight that everybody could see his dick print.

 A bored, middle-aged woman sat at the ticket booth. She scanned their tickets with as much zeal as one of the undead then they were in the grounds of the Spooktacular. What a stupid name.

As if preparing for battle, Cassian drew them into a circle and held the map of park out in the centre. A finger pointed to where they currently were. ‘Everybody is flocking in here. The rides will be busy now, and most of the night, so it doesn’t matter when we go on them. There will be time, before you ask, Morrigan. The haunted house is only accessible via the maze. It’s meant to be shit-your-pants scary, but only for those brave enough to make it through the zombie maze.’

‘Cass, you know it’s not real, right?’

He held up a hand in Rhys’ face, ignoring his question. ‘We need to get to the other side of the park, tackle the maze, do the haunted house while it’s not too busy to get the full experience. There’s a cinema showing old black and white films we can check out, food stands over on this part. I think there’s a costume competition.’

‘You’ll be entering that,’ said Azriel, a smirk on his lips.

‘He’ll scare everybody with that thing,’ said Rhys, pointing to Cassian’s crotch.

Cassian shushed them. ‘Don’t interrupt. I’ll lose my train of thought. I’ve lost it. Fireworks mark the end of the celebrations. If we make it to dawn then we get a survivor’s medal.’

‘You mean we won’t get locked in? I can leave whenever I want?’ Nesta pressed her hands together in prayer.

‘We’re staying until the end.’

‘Yeah, Nesta. Don’t you want a crappy plastic medal at the end?’ Feyre teased.

Nesta was not a night person. She had never been a night person. She could wake up at five in the morning as fresh as a daisy to begin her day – but ask her to stay awake until that time? Not a chance. If she stayed with Cassian, this would be her life every Halloween.

‘Let’s go team,’ he called and led the way towards the monstrously large maze.

She lurked at the back with Azriel. Nesta gave him a soft elbow in the side. ‘Let’s go team.’

‘Don’t,’ he replied, warning in his voice.

‘I feel like we’re in an episode of Scooby-Doo.’

Azriel gave a chuckle. ‘If he says let’s split up gang, I’m going with you. We’ll go and find a beer.’

The maze was ridiculously high. And enormous. Even Cassian was not tall enough to peer over the hedges to find the way. It would take them forever to bumble their way through to the promised haunted house. There likely wasn’t even a haunted house on the other side. Hopefully it was the car park and they could go home.

A smoke machine was working its hardest to pump the hedges with mist. Spooky, she thought with disdain. The way was lit with jack-o-lanterns. Through the hedges, Nesta could make out the low groaning of zombies and the terrified shrieks of patrons as they tried to find their way along the twisting paths.

‘Cass, you should just lift me onto your shoulders,’ called Mor.

Ugh. Yes, I’m sure you’d love to have your bare thighs around his face again, Nesta thought.  

It was a few times, long ago, apparently. They were friends. It hadn’t meant anything. But they still took trips together alone and her name was still in his phone with a few heart emojis that she had apparently put there and they flirted relentlessly still. Everything was just perfect.

A zombie burst out from one of the turns they could take. His arms were outstretched, flaking fake blood on his chin. Rhys shrieked.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed.

‘Sorry man,’ the zombie replied, breaking character with his laughter, then went back down the passage he’d been lurking.

At least five times, they hit a dead end. Cassian was adamant he could find the way through without any help. They had met no end of zombies too. It was freezing cold, fake smoke was irritating her lungs, and they were nowhere closer to the damn haunted house waiting on the other side. This was on its way to being one of the worst nights of her entire life.

Their group was beginning to stretch out. Mor, after shrieking like a banshee for the eighth time, had locked onto Cassian at the front for safety. There was a gap at the front. Azriel was talking to Rhys about work as if this was a normal activity for them to engage in, while Feyre had her hand in Rhys’ as she ate a candied apple. Nesta trailed at the back, forgotten, eating candy.

It could not be more obvious to Nesta that she was not part of this group. It was an uncomfortable truth. She kept throwing it back, but like the tide, it came back to her again and again. Whilst she did not expect to be on the same page as her significant other for everything, fundamentally, Nesta and Cassian were too different for the long term. Each step through the mist felt like it was pulling a veil away rather than hiding it; they were not meant to be. In the pit of her stomach, Nesta knew when they left the spooktacular scarefest, she’d need to have that conversation with him and end it for good.

Screams sounded followed by the thump of shoes.

Nesta threw herself backwards into a hedge as a hoard of screaming teenagers came galloping down the narrow space of a crossroads. Behind them was a swarm of zombies who were thoroughly enjoying their job.

When the dust settled, Nesta froze.

‘Oh no.’

Her group had been swept up with the screaming and running. She had lost them.

After waiting a while in the hope that they might come back for her, it seemed obvious that they hadn’t even realised she was missing. She tried not to be hurt by it, but tears still prickled her eyes.

There was no cell signal in this damn place. There was also no turning back. She was too deep into the maze to retrace her fumbling steps and find the way. She had to follow the sounds of screams to try and catch up to the massive group. Perhaps it was the workers’ way of clearing out the maze before it became too congested. Nesta would find her way through and meet them by the haunted house.

At a fork, Nesta paused. It was only her and pumpkins. Neither way offered any insight to the group’s whereabouts. There were still screams, but they came in every direction, as far as the amusement park. There was a chocolate coin in her bag of candy. The foil featured a skull on one side, crossbones on the other.

‘Heads I go left.’

Nesta flipped the coin.

‘Right it is.’

It was eerie to be alone. Nesta shivered against the cold. It was surely close to midnight by now. She risked a glance upwards – a full moon. Why was that panicking her? None of this was real. A full moon meant nothing. None of this was real.  

A zombie stepped into her path. Her face was painted grey with blood splattered all over it. Before she could even begin groaning, Nesta held up a finger. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘Oh, come on.’

In her marching, she encountered two more zombies. One of them, she threatened to punch and was told she’d receive assault charges if she did.

‘You can address the charges to the Addams Family residence.’

This was turning into an actual nightmare. She was cold and tired and wanted to go home. Why didn’t she take up Elain’s offer of a cosy night in watching chick flicks?

Logic would guide her through this. She just needed to remember which way she had originally been facing, figure out which direction she was turning through and she would find her way. It was easy. Easy peasy.

‘You’re going in circles,’ one of the zombies said. ‘I’ve seen you three times now.’

‘You are joking.’

Sure enough, at his feet was a knobbly pumpkin that was particularly grotesque. She had seen it before.

With a noise that could earn her employment with the other zombies, Nesta pressed herself into the hedge. ‘I am going to be in this maze for the rest of my life.’

Something came over her. Perhaps it was the full moon. Perhaps it was being in a relationship with an overgrown child who had abandoned her in the damn maze that she didn’t want to be in to begin with. Nesta started ripping off leaves and throwing them at the ground as if it might solve anything. She even kicked the hedge then immediately regretted it when a scratch raised up on her ankle.

‘What did that hedge ever do to you, Morticia?’

A deep, smooth voice jerked her attention away from battering the hedge.

The man had gone all out on his costume. He wore a fine blue suit with a golden patterned brocade and a billowing white shirt. A few drops of blood stained it crimson. It didn’t look cheap at all. His red hair was drawn back against the nape of his neck. He tilted his head which revealed the sharp points of his incisors. No fake plastic fangs.

‘It trapped me inside,’ she answered. ‘Dracula?’

‘Lestat. Close enough.’  

‘Have you lost your friends too?’

‘No, I come to Halloween events alone,’ he replied, the sarcastic tone impossible to miss.

Nesta’s brow bunched. ‘I wonder if I can make one of these branches into a stake to ram through your chest.’

It made him laugh. It was a rich thing that sent goosebumps skittering along her skin.  

‘Walk together?’

Nesta should have shut down the offer immediately. Wandering around with strange men dressed as vampires at night wouldn’t lead to anything good – but as it was, she was lost in this fucking maze and it was better to have company even if he did end up draining her blood.

They debated each fork, chose each path carefully as if it was a puzzle that they might be able to crack rather than a random route a mad farmer had decided. The man, Eris, shucked off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

At a dead end sat the Grim Reaper. A black hood was pulled down over their face and a scythe was held in one hand.

‘You have come to the end of your journey, weary soul. You must answer the riddle that was foretold.’

Eris scoffed. ‘That’s a terrible rhyme. It barely even rhymes.’

‘Yeah, well, you try saying it for eight hours a night,’ the Grim Reaper retorted. ‘Are you done? Can I carry on?’

The utter shock of being spoken back to was plastered onto Eris’ expression. It clearly did not happen often. Nesta held back her laughter; Eris had been good at getting them through the maze plus he’d let her wear his expensive jacket.

‘I protect. I stand tall. My purpose is to strike fear in all. What am I?’

‘The cops,’ Nesta offered.

Eris buried his laugh with a cough. ‘I think the answer is a scarecrow.’

The Grim Reaper stood. ‘Curses, you have solved my riddle,’ he said, voice unimaginably bored. The gate behind him creaked open. ‘You have found your freedom… for now.’

A pale hand gestured for Nesta to lead the way out of the maze and she had never been so glad to leave a place before.

‘That is a man who hates his job,’ said Eris, lips close to her ear.

The haunted house loomed in front of them. More squeals and shrieks echoed from within. It was not as big as Cassian had made it out to be, but it certainly looked haunted. Spiderwebs hung from the awning so that they dripped all the way to the steps. The wrought-iron fence was rusted and crooked, running the length of the property, save for the squeaking gate. On a hidden speaker, a child’s eerie laughter sounded on a loop along with come play with me.

‘If they have hired child actors for this bit, I won’t hesitate to hit them,’ Nesta said.

‘Stick close, fair maiden, and we will find our way through.’

Nesta pouted. She searched for a worker but there were no signs of any. This was why costumes were an utterly ridiculous idea. ‘I should wait here to see if my friends appear.’

‘Some friends, abandoning you.’

‘Yours did,’ she pointed out.

Eris held up his hands. ‘Mine are brothers. Every year we try and lose at least one of us.’

‘Well, one of mine is a sister and another is a soon to be ex-boyfriend.’

Her breath fogged in the air from the cold. There didn’t seem to be any sign of them coming through the gate. By the time they did emerge, Nesta would have turned into an icicle.  

‘You go. Don’t waste your time with me.’

‘I will never abandon you. Especially not on Halloween when there’s a full moon in the sky.’

Nesta raised her brows. ‘Oh yeah? What might get me?’

Another group had made it out of the maze and were making a racket as they hurried towards the house’s gate. Eris pointed at them. His amber eyes tracked over their costumes. ‘There could be killer clowns or… hot dogs on the loose.’

Indeed, one was dressed in an inflatable hot dog costume.

‘Do you think they’re like werewolves? The full moon turns her into a hot dog?’

‘I’m more likely to do damage than she is,’ Nesta grumbled. ‘I am so hungry and so tired. You know what, I have another idea.’

Nesta pulled open the purple gate that they had come through, much to the Grim Reaper’s shock.

‘Do we have to do the haunted house? Isn’t there another route back to the main part?’

‘There are three routes out of the maze. Two of them lead back to the park. You, lucky devils, found the only path to the Horrifying Haunted Mansion. You must go through it.’

‘I believe that goes against safety regulations,’ said Eris.

‘Minimum wage. Zero hour contract. Talk to my boss.’

 ***

‘Two more rooms to go through.’

That was two rooms too many, Nesta thought. She had lost count of the amount of times she had screamed. Most of the Spooktacular had been hit-acular instead. Not this haunted house. It was not for the faint hearted. She had expected plastic masks hanging from strings or glow in the dark skeletons that swung into her from fraying ropes.

This was horrid.

After the first monster had come sprinting across the room at them under a deluge of strobe lights, Nesta had clung onto Eris like a koala. There was not point in feigning bravery when everything in this house seemed hellbent on giving her a heart attack; the actors hired for this part were deranged.  Nesta had gone from keeping close to Eris, to walking behind him, fingers digging into his billowing shirt, to burying her face practically in his armpit and relying on him to guide her through.

She wished Cassian was here.

Not for comfort, but so he could be traumatised by this fucking place instead.

Eris blew out a breath. ‘There’s blood seeping out from under the door. I’ll carry you.’

Was this guy for real?

If he dropped her, Nesta would kill him though.

Carefully, Nesta was lifted by Eris, so she tucked her face into the crook of his neck.

‘What’s in the room?’

‘Do you really want me to describe it?’

Yes. No. She wasn’t sure.

After peeping open one eye, she wished she hadn’t. People were manacled from the ceiling, heads lolling uncomfortably. Raw meat hung from hooks. As Eris had described, fake blood soaked the floor. She was fairly certain it was fake blood. It better have been fake blood. Jars filled with severed limbs, eyeballs, and organs lined the wall. It looked like something out of Saw.

‘The raw meat is bad enough but if they’ve used animal blood, it’s a health violation. I’ll have them shut down,’ Eris muttered.

Nesta screwed her eyes shut.

‘Whoever made this place was an absolute freak. And not in a good way.’

Eris’ laugh made a rumble deep in his chest. ‘What’s the good way?’

‘The kinky sexy way,’ she said, before she could stop herself.

‘Ah, like handcuffs instead of manacles?’

‘No comment.’

Although Nesta had known the man for only an hour, she already could tell that he’d be grinning at her comment. And something about that had her pressing a smile against his skin in return.

‘What would be your absolute nightmare? In the final room, what do you not want to see?’

‘Oh my god. Is this going to be a strange set up meant only for me? I hope it’s not a million dollars. I’m afraid of becoming a millionaire.’

Was it bad that her first thought went to Cassian down on one knee proposing to her with all of his friends there to witness it? That would be a nightmare. He'd trap her so she couldn't say no. She cared about him. Loved him. But she wasn’t in love with him. Wasn’t sure if she ever had been. Lust had made her get carried away and before she knew it, there was pressure from all sides to make it something more. Never again would she tangle herself with a man that her sisters already knew. It made everything more complex.

She was set down on the creaking floorboards. ‘Do I want to open my eyes?’

‘Probably not,’ he supplied.

They were faced with a narrow corridor. At the end of it was the backdoor. Freedom beckoned.

‘We’ll run for it.’

There were circular holes cut into the wall that Nesta had a sinking feeling meant hands were going to try and grab it.

‘If you grope me,’ she called, ‘I will be contacting my lawyer.’

‘Ready to run?’

‘Hold my hand,’ she begged, clinging onto Eris. If her heart wasn’t hammering so hard, she might have felt pathetic. As it was, her friends had ditched her in a zombie maze and this vampire had swooped in to save her.

With her hand locked firmly into Eris’, they sprinted towards the backdoor. Sure enough, black-gloved hands shot out as they ran, grabbing onto clothing and limbs. When they burst through the door, they tangled in sticky cobwebs that had her shrieking.

‘You survived!’

Another Grim Reaper stood before them using their scythe to point in the direction they were to go.

Nesta threw her arms around Eris, feeling the hard muscle of his body. She was reluctant to ever let him go. He seemed to be of the same attitude, because he’d set off down the dimly lit path with one arm hooking her to him.

A feeling of disappointment settled on her tongue. If Nesta had entered that house with her group, Cassian would have gravitated to Mor and supported her through it. She’d have been at the back still, squealing and panicking unless Azriel took pity on her.

Thank goodness for Eris.

‘I wouldn’t have survived that without you.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘If we’d have turned the lights on, it would have been crappy fake blood and local thespians getting too into it. The darkness makes everything a bit scarier. You did great.’

‘Eris, I’d have sat on the floor and refused to move. How were you so calm?’

Eris tipped back his head in low, false laughter. ‘Oh, compared to my father, that house was a leisurely jaunt. I am starving. I couldn’t work out if it was your stomach grumbling or a prisoner of the house. What about a late dinner?’

***

‘There has to be something. Something in the past that made you hate Halloween.’

Nesta tugged a slice of pizza from the rest, marvelling at the stringy cheese drooping from it. ‘It wasn’t even Halloween. Goosebumps.’

‘The books? I mean when you’re ten, they’re truly scary,’ Eris teased.

She chewed down a mouthful of pizza. They’d found the cluster of food stalls with tired workers who looked as if they were counting down the hours until dawn so they could go home. A large seating area was in the middle of the stands so they’d set up camp there, Nesta still in Eris’ jacket. There was a cage with a few bats in that Eris commented was a food standard violation to have them so close to people dining.

‘No, the show. There was one episode. It freaked me out.’

‘The sponge under the sink?’

‘Seriously? No.’

‘Oh! Night of the Living Dummy – with Slappy? My brother hated that. We actually bought a Slappy and put it in his bed. He cried for hours.’

‘The one at Horrorland with those green things. Then it turns out they’re on a monster game show. But the start of the episode really did a number on me.’

Eris put his arm across her back and stroked up and down. ‘You poor thing. I hated Are You Afraid of The Dark with that monster in the swimming pool. I made my little brother sleep in my bed. Told my mother he was the one afraid, not me.’

They ate the rest of their shared pizza in a hush that wasn’t unpleasant. They’d both opted for coffee to keep them awake – and keep them warm. His knee was pressed to her thigh. A hand rested on top of his leg and Nesta had the mad urge to hold onto it like she had in the haunted house. Something held her back – a loyalty to Cassian that he had never deserved.

Positioned near the heaviest traffic of the park, Nesta was scanning the crowds for signs of her group. Many people had left. Only a few idiots would remain until the dawn – her group included.

‘You can go,’ Nesta insisted. ‘Won’t your brothers drive off if you’re not with them?’

Eris rummaged into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing – because he’d refused its return – and pulled out a set of car keys. ‘We all drove separately. We don’t like each other enough to car pool.’

That was a wise idea. Nesta wished she’d have taken her own transport so she could have turned around at the gates and gone home. She supposed she’d not have met Eris if she had done that. Some things were worth enduring.

‘This soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. Is it because he left you in the maze?’

Generally, Nesta was not a person who liked to share her business with other people. It felt a lot like airing dirty laundry. She did not care for gossip – her own or otherwise. But she had few friends. The two she did have thought Cassian was wonderful because Nesta had never been able to be honest about the problems in the relationship and cast him in a bad light.

It felt different to be dressed as Morticia Addams, sharing a pizza with Lestat de Lioncourt. Eris was a stranger who she’d never see again. What did it matter if she spilt her heart to him?

‘That was the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t want to come here, but he doesn’t really take no as an option. If I didn’t come tonight, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. I’m boring. I’m no fun. None of his friend’s girlfriends kick up such a fuss. He also slept with his friend and she’s still around all the time. I can’t voice that it makes me uncomfortable because then I’m being jealous and controlling.’ She took a sip of the too-hot coffee to act as a distraction. ‘We’re not compatible. I keep trying to resurrect a dying relationship – but why? I’m not even happy with him. I’m not myself with him.’ Nesta gave a yowl of frustration. ‘I change myself for him all the time – I hate dressing up.’

Nesta focused on the blurring lights of one of the stalls to distract herself.

Carefully, Eris’ hand landed on the back of her head to slip her wig off. His fingers twined in her scrunchie at the nap of her neck to pull that loose so her hair fell freely then he handed her a napkin to wipe away the crimson lipstick staining her.

‘Thank you.’

Eris gave a tight smile in response. ‘I think you’re wonderful as you are. Kicking hedges, threatening to stake me through the heart, or taking the slices with the most cheese on.’

‘You caught that?’

‘Next time, I get the cheesiest slices. Let me drive you home.’

There could be nothing more foolish than accepting a ride from a stranger, but it was tempting. He’d proved himself to be polite and charming, never putting his hands on her more than he needed to – and sometimes Nesta had wished they did linger on her.

‘I ought to stay. Get my survivor’s medal.’

Eris cocked his head to one side. ‘Why?’

Because Cassian would be annoyed with her if she didn’t stay. They’d talk about it for weeks afterwards, how Nesta was the only one who didn’t follow through with the plan or how she ruined the evening by getting lost in the maze. Everything could be spiralled back to being her fault somehow. She didn’t want the crappy medal. The only good moment of the night had been meeting Eris.

‘I have heated seats.’

‘Sold,’ Nesta said, rising to her feet.

Eris offered her an arm to take, ever the gentleman. As the night grew colder by the moment, his warmth was welcomed. They weaved through goblins and ghouls, witches and werewolves, as they crossed the funfair. Nesta still kept a look out for Cassian or Feyre but couldn’t see them.

‘You don’t want to go on the big wheel? The ghost train?’

‘I have had enough of Halloween. I want to go home, go to bed, and tomorrow I’m staying on the couch eating candy all day.’

Eris made a low groan that was almost erotic. ‘I am envious of your life.’

‘What is your plan?’

‘Try not to get too excited but I am a health and safety executive.’

‘Ooh, safety standards and worker rights. Tell me more.’

He gave her a soft nudge in the ribs. ‘I studied law because I like arguing. It turns out I like ruining fun too. I’m coming back here tomorrow when it’s light to shut down half the park. The maze was too narrow, it breeched safety standards. If there had been an evacuation, it fell short of requirements. And as for the murder house, well, that will be feeling the full wrath of health and safety laws.’

Nesta tipped her head back and made a moan to rival Eris’ one. ‘Oh, I love it when you talk OSHA.’

‘It’s not the most exciting job, I’ll admit. It pays well. There is travel involved. I’m high up the ladder already.’

‘Did you actually come here with brothers?’

‘Nesta,’ he sighed, amber eyes snagging on her. ‘Do you think my hobby is walking around dressed as a vampire picking up abandoned women in mazes?’

‘We all have our hobbies, Eris.’

‘My brothers and I always check one out as civilians. They’re into it. It gives me a chance to see the on-the-ground running before I swoop in and they have time to hide their atrocities’

The car park was far emptier than it had been when they’d pulled up that evening. At her request, they’d gone to check if Rhysand’s car was still there. Her heart sank at the empty space. They had gone. At some point, the group had just left, left without her.

Eris must have read something in her face because he stopped walking and pulled her into a tight embrace. She burrowed against his chest, so fed up of being an afterthought.

‘I know what it will be. It will be my fault because I got lost. Not theirs for running off. I will have ruined their whole evening.’ Her voice came out muffled against his shirt.

His arms encased her. She fit naturally to his body as two pieces of a puzzle. Lips pressed to her forehead. ‘You deserve far better than this. You’re wasted on people like that.’

For a while, they remained cuddling in the car park, neither one quite ready to stop it. It was only when a man dressed as Jack Skellington wolf-whistled at them did they reluctantly peel apart. Eris brushed away her gratitude for the comfort, but he kept his arm around her as they walked.

When they reached his car, it was worth more than she had in her bank account. He held the door open for her, those manners gleaming. ‘My lady.’

‘If you call me that again, I may let you drink my blood.’

He pushed away her hair so his fingers could trail the vein of her neck. It was tantalisingly slow then he drew back and closed the car door, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Nesta had to stop herself from squealing and kicking her legs as he walked around to the driver’s side. If she met a man like Eris each time she was abandoned in a maze, she’d go to Spooktaculars more often.

On the drive home, her phone finally started to ping with messages as she received signal. They gradually became more frantic then angry as if she was deliberately avoiding them. Rather than message Cassian, who would undoubtedly blow up her phone if he found out she was riding home with a stranger, she messaged Feyre. It was a simple thing.

You left me behind in the maze. No signal. Thanks for waiting. Found my own way home.

‘I should probably say it now before we get to my door. I don’t sleep with men on the first date so don’t try and come into my house.’

Eris gestured to himself as he drove. ‘I need an invitation to enter a home.’

True to his word, at the door, Eris did not try to convince her to let him in. The house was dark which meant Cassian wasn’t up waiting for her.

‘Thank you for looking after me.’

He swept into a bow. ‘It was my honour. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ she replied.

Coldness slipped over her body – and not from the weather. Eris smiled and gave a wave as he walked down the garden path. He waited by his car for her to unlock the house, to see her safely inside, but Nesta felt was numb. Eris had done what she had asked. He hadn’t pushed his luck or tried for a kiss or more. He’d been a shining example of a gentleman all night. So why was she annoyed he hadn’t tried to get her into bed?

***

The soft vibrations of her phone dragged her out of sleep at eleven.

‘I’ve been so stressed,’ Cassian said as a greeting.

Not worried enough to search the park for her, not worried enough to wait at the gates, not worried enough to come to her house.

‘I had to stay at Mor’s. You had the key. I’m still bright red.’

‘Don’t call me for the rest of the day,’ replied Nesta and she hung up the phone.

It had never felt so good. She wished she still had a flip phone so she could slam the two halves together; it gleaned more satisfaction that way. A couple more times, Cassian tried to call then Mor’s phone number flashed up on her screen – a crappy attempt to get into contact.

Nesta ignored it.

She was tired and in a rotten mood as she knew she would be the morning after a crap Halloween Spooktacular. Although, it hadn’t all been bad.  

After shuffling to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, Nesta spotted the note pushed through the post box that was sat on the door mat. It was a sloping, elegant script that was almost too small for her to read easily.

Trick or treat. Check behind the plant pot.

Reluctantly, Nesta opened the front door a few inches in her pyjamas, half-expecting an egg to be thrown at her. Behind the large, ceramic plant pot on the stoop was a paper bag filled with candy and chocolate. There was an envelope tucked inside. Her name was on the front in the same looping handwriting.

Nesta,

I realised in my excitement to share OSHA guidelines with you that I never asked you what you did for a living. That must be rectified. I understand that you are in the midst of emotional upheaval and I completely understand if you are not ready to date – presuming the soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend has been bestowed his new title.

Please call me. I promise I won’t force you through any mazes or haunted houses. Enjoy your day – here’s more candy to get you through.

Yours eternally,

Eris.

At the bottom of his letter was his number so Nesta needed to restrain herself from calling him then and there with bird nest hair and pyjamas.

No, the Spooktacular had not been all bad.

[contentment-of-cats]

Chiss headcanons - cultural

Chiss traditions surrounding hair are complex. Thrawn is constantly suppressing twitches because his Humans' hair is Wrong. most of the men, of course, emulate the 'Tarkin' where the hair is combed back as if in a wind tunnel and plastered with gel strong enough to seal a hull breach or alternatively worn in a 'Guard Six' buzz. The women if they do not have hair trimmed to above the collar wear braids or buns. He understands that Chiss familial traditions cannot apply, but some styles and lengths are improper for their age, or rank, or status. One cannot run through the crew rebraiding female officers and crew members' hairstyles.

Funerary traditions also center around hair for the Chiss. When a person passes, their hair is shorn and the head wrapped in a silk scarf in family colors. The hair is then made into elaborate hair pieces (for the wealthy) or for Lesser and Common families is pressed between pieces of crystal and sealed into a pendant, ring, or charm for a bracelet. The act of shearing the heads of the deceased is to cut them from the bonds of life, and allow them to go free.

Hair is 'dressed' by a hereditary class of workers, so skilled that a braid of hair 500 years old looks as if it was dressed that morning. However, when hair becomes too brittle or fragile, it is burned to ash and then placed in a pressure chamber and turned into a hard, diamond-like glass. Even the grindings as the glass is smoothed and polished are incorporated into the metal of the frame. Not a speck is wasted.

Most deceased Chiss are placed in deep rich soil to decay for a year, then their bones are removed and polished before being placed in the familial or community ossuary. In places without soil, the body goes into a pod of cultured bacteria that decay the body instead. The resulting fluids are vaporized to steam and allowed to cool, falling as life-giving water on crops. If no body exists, coils of hair from the immediate family are placed in the container instead.

Among some Chiss on ocean world like Rentor, a burial at sea is preferred. For others who live and work in space, being shot into the heart of a sun allows them to return to the universe completely.

Among colonial Chiss, it is traditional to shear the hair of a young person enlisting in the CDF or going into space for an extended time. This tradition is not usually followed by the Ruling or Great families unless they are taking a Merit Adoptive to symbolize the separation from their old life.

The wealthy have hairdressers on staff, their ancestors' hair is made into elaborate hairpieces to be worn on the most important holidays and occasions. When not in use, it's placed in wooden boxes lined in silk and kept in climate controlled rooms. The less wealthy patronize small firms for the same reasons, and may keep their important hairpieces in storage there or at home. The Common families have their hair made into amulets worn on a chain under the clothing.

Members of the military wear plan hairstyles. No hair pieces or wigs. Among families, the higher the rank the more elaborate the hair. Depending on the personality and family traditions, a Patriarch may wear a hairpiece requiring frameworks and other supports. On Founding Day - the day a Family was founded - the Patriarch of a Ruling family wears the most elaborate and oldest hairpiece, robes that can trail three meters, and sometimes need cooling fans within.

On a formal occasion, Thrawn does brush out Pyrondi's hair, then braids it properly. He puts a lot of thought into it. He denotes her rank, he marital and familial status, her ship, but most importantly - her victories.

He goes on to braid more hair, and for some of the men to razor designs into the sheared sides of their undercuts. The first time the Chiss see Humans with those hairstyles, it's a message. "These are my Humans. These are my family."

Compiled with help and inspiration from Bextia!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Nothing Is Lost side character lineup

Djedefhor -- Merit's father. Both of their kids get most of their looks from him.

Ahrenkare -- Merit's baby brother. Tried to portray how lively and playful he was.

Benerib -- Merit's mother. Tried to imply a bit of an age gap between she and Djedefhor.

Nefertiti -- Obviously needs no introduction. Her design was based almost entirely off of her bust, using some of Tzipporah's art as a starting reference.

Heba -- She is very young here. She's little, around 4-6 years old when Merit died. Tried to show some of that baby fat in her lil cheeks. And yeah, I know most kids had their heads shaven with the sidelock of hair... But I felt like a wig with the locks braided in a similar fashion fit her more.

Akhenaten -- Another who needs no introduction. Based his look off his statues (that I could get decent references of) and a bit of Rameses. Wanted to give him a cocky, self-assured air around him with a bit of a twisted twinkle in his eye.

Hathor -- Duh. But for this design I wanted her to be a bit on the thicker side. Tried to give her a bit of a double chin and soft proportions. Because. C'mon. You can't tell me the goddess of sex, music, love, and motherhood is a skinny twig. She hasn't made an appearance yet, but she will in some flashbacks!

Bakenkhonsu -- ("Servant of Khonsu") The High Priest of Khons(h)u, and the Fist at the time of Merit's life and Akhenaten's rise to power. I wanted him to look soft and sweet; approachable. The perfect look of the man who comforted Merit when her brother and mother died, and eventually, her father. One of Merit's closest friends and confidants. Most definitely figured out Merit and Khonshu did the dirty in the temple. He's not dumb asdfghjkl

[sgiandubh]

Holy Monday - Dagger Man

Sidenote: it's horrendously late, in my own time zone and Holy Monday is gone for good. Hoping yesterday's wonderful SC news are enough for you to forgive me, I go ahead with my short personal notes on what is perhaps one of the most complicated stories of this week.

Enter Judas Iscariot, whose name is perhaps a local corruption of the Latin term for 'dagger man': sicarius.

Who is he? We are told he was one of The Twelve chosen ones, but our Bibles are, to say the least, not very talkative when it comes to this man. We do not know what his merits are and many risk a seriously tragical confusion with the other Judas, 'son of James'. Perhaps in the same way Mary of Bethany is still mistaken by many for Mary Magdalene herself.

Today's episode is a throwback: 'Then Jesus six days before the passover came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, which had been dead, whom he raised from the dead' (John, 12:1)'

We don't know very well where the following episode happens (in Lazarus' house? somewhere else?) and for the first two days of the Holy Week, the Evangelists' reports are either vague or even conflicting. A woman named Mary approaches. Clearly, more than a sympathizer, yet barely tolerated by what clearly is a gender segregated assembly, where women serve a dinner they never join in. Something still very much happening in the Mediterranean world, by the way:

'Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment. (John, 12:3)'

Is she a prostitute? A rich patron? I have always thought, perhaps wrongly, there was something very erotic in that choreography, for hair is a very strong sexual symbol and even more so in the Ancient World (think Egyptian wigs and also, heh, Samson). Something that also reminded me of Salome's fateful dance of the seven veils.

Experts have calculated, for dry amusement probably, the cost of that 'ointment' in today's money, which is disingenuous, to say the least. Nevertheless, that's easily the price tag of a brand new Mercedes, with all the bells and whistles. Judas immediately puts things into context and speaks like a corporate CFO: 'Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor?' (John, 12:5)

You think this is what a good manager would do, right? Well, think twice. John does not like Judas. At all. He immediately tells us who he thinks that strange man really is: 'Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, which should betray him' (John, 12:4). And, which is perhaps even worse, a corrupted treasurer of sorts: 'not that he cared for the poor; but because he was a thief, and had the bag, and bare what was put therein' (John, 12:6).

Jesus' answer to this apparent practical dilemma is very clear: ' Let her alone (...), for the poor always ye have with you; but me ye have not always' (John, 12: 8-9). Judas' enormous mistake is to transform what obviously is a spiritual matter into a vulgar, political one. Throwing money into the mix, instrumentalizing it for what we would today call 'propaganda purposes' is at complete odds with His entire message.

But sometimes even the voice of Heaven has trouble making itself heard. This is why I have chosen for today a simple, short shofar sound, from Miklós Rózsa 's original soundtrack for Ben Hur:

[lyriquette]

Vytal Festival 2024 Prompts Week! Day 2: History/Fairy Tales!

@remnants-of-rwby-events - Also, thank you for the wonderful event and the prompts. I get to write again. Aha. Happy Vytal Festival!

-----

Title: Chronicling: 

A post-Grimm tale told in journal form.

—

Year 0 Day 22 A.G. ::

22 days ago, we put an end to a fairy tale that connected the distant past to our current present. Salem was defeated, and the Grimm were vanquished. 

Only later did we realize that this was the start of a chaotic new world.

—

Year 0 Day 23 A.G. ::

Perhaps the only merit of the Grimm was that it prevented a lot of the infighting that we’re experiencing now. Everyone saw the Grimm as a common enemy, and whenever there was a War like the Great War, both sides would deal with the Grimm before going back to killing each other. The looming threat of the Grimm prevented Wars from going completely overboard, because what’s the point of winning when the Grimm would overrun you anyway?

One could argue that Salem contributed most to the unification of mankind because that’s what it took to survive.

Salem issued her ultimatum when we finally came back to Vale, which was essentially Surrender and Submit OR Confront and Die. And humanity chose the latter, believing we could finish this fight.

Vacuo, Mistral, and whatever remained of Mantle and Vale amassed an army of Huntsman to attack the Land of Darkness.

Note that Atlas is missing from that group and that becomes important later. 

I’m still not sure why Salem chose to do things like that. The smarter thing would’ve been just to attack all the major cities and hold us at Grimm-point.

Perhaps she was getting bored of her immortal fight.

Or maybe she just wanted to do what the Gods did to her and her army a long time ago - wipe everyone out in one go - in a twisted role reversal. Eh. Who knows what goes through an immortal omnicidal maniac's head? And it's not like I can ask her anymore.

In any case, the major cities were almost all emptied out of Huntsman to fight this battle. Only the bare minimum remained to maintain the city’s defense, most of them Huntsman-in-Training.

People made the mistake thinking that Mantle and Atlas, being both from Solitas, were of one body and mind - and while many from Mantle were willing to see the end of this eternal fight - the big-wigs of Atlas held their strongest back, claiming they were needed to protect them from the Vacuoian rabble. Most people just treated this as rich people just being unreasonable and selfish - and that these folk could be handled after the war ended.

---

Year 0 Day 25 A.G. ::

Just getting the army to the continent was brutal. Grimm covered both the sea and the skies, and we took enormous casualties before even making landfall. And when we finally did, it was like introducing flesh to a meat grinder. Looking at the final casualties, over 40% of Huntsman died that day, and a whole many were left crippled or missing. All hoping to see the day where the fighting ends.

Ruby’s still in a coma after doing whatever she did. Weiss lost an eye and complained “why couldn’t it have been the scarred one.” I ended up being the unhanded to Yang’s unarmed. 

Hmm. I just realized that Huntsman have a very terrible coping mechanism for debilitating injuries.

When we came to the Grimm continent, we believed we held the winning hand. We were confident that our army was proof that Humanity was United and that the Gods would answer our call. Therefore when we finally reached Evernight Castle, we used the power of the Relics to summon the Gods on Salem's doorstep. 

And to our shock, the God of Light found humanity not United and therefore Unworthy. He didn’t bother giving an explanation to a species about to become extinct in the next few seconds. As we saw the same light show that was about to make humanity extinct for a second time - except now in the God of Light’s hands - we despaired.  

That’s when Ruby, wielding all four Relics, did… Something. It’s hard to describe. It was like being in part of her Semblance, including the extreme nausea part, and then also not. The world exploded into red and white - a field of scattering petals instead of the desolate land we were at. And when everyone came to their senses, all of the Grimm around us were gone. Ruby was gone too. So was the God of Light.

The God of Darkness had a perturbed expression on his face, only to be surprised when Ruby reappeared from a gale of petals a couple seconds later and without his brother. Meanwhile, everyone ignored the half-dead Salem and focused on the other building-sized deity in this scenario.

Waiting for his decree. 

Wondering if we needed to somehow procure another miracle to protect Humanity.  

Now whereas the God of Light was willing to make humanity go extinct just to honor the letter of the agreement, the God of Darkness, who was now the only god around, was more flexible on the interpretation of the conditions.

Humanity was United as far as He could see, and He would honor the spirit of the promise. There’s a certain irony here that the God who had made humans nearly extinct a long time ago was also the one who gave its stay of execution, not that anyone who hasn't heard Jinn's revelation could appreciate it. 

Salem, who was already half-disintegrated by just being in the proximity of Ruby’s Something, was unmade by the God of Darkness - disappearing into dust. It was a rather unfitting end for the immortal woman who had made our life hell - and if this were a book, I'd say the writer would've done Salem dirty. Unfortunately for her, this was real life, and I could only wish this happened sooner.

The only things that remained here were the Grimm Pools and the Castle and a small number of Grimm confined permanently to the Land of Darkness. 

Year 0 Day 29 A.G.

After the God of Darkness left, some people stayed behind to turn Evernight into a livable city. Before the army set off for home, I saw someone chiseling out a statue in the God of Darkness’s image and a whole bunch of purple-robed clad followers praying. 

Guess the God of Darkness finally got the worshipers He finally wanted. As for the God of Light, he still hasn’t reappeared, but the God of Darkness has reassured us that he is not in the position to do much of anything. More importantly to us though, Ruby will wake up eventually. 

The end of our fairy tale.

The army eventually separated and went back to their respective continents, eager to see the friends and family they left behind. 

But when the Vacuoian and Mantle Huntsman reached Vacuo’s borders, they were met instead with a united Atlasian army instead. 

That was the start of the Atlas-Vacuo war.

[edutainer2022]

I was confronted with the issue of adult friendships lately - how hard they are to maintain or to start from scratch. Or any relationship, really, in a full-time adulthood. And I'm really amused by Tycho Reeves befriending Scott Tracy. Or maybe it kinda going somewhere, sometime. So! Scott's mind, per usual, is telling him lots of angsty lies. Scott's family love him beyond measure. And on occasion real geniuses could be real idiots. @janetm74, that little headcanon of John being his brother's keeper and secret avenger gets to feature.

LEAN ON ME

This was stupid. It was nothing, but, mostly, it was stupid. He was stupid. He should have known better by now - people just... didn't choose him. If there was a choice at all, if they didn't need anything from him or didn't rely on him in some way, if they were not lumped together by circumstances or under his command - they cast a vote elsewhere. On particularly bad days he would wonder in passing if his brothers even would, were they not stranded with him from birth. Would they ever be friends? As adulthood course corrected, he saw his brothers, and Kayo, and Brains, develop social connections and loyalties of their own, or just quietly drift away to other alliances within the family, leaving him outside looking in. He certainly knew he needed to have been on his toes, above and beyond his best to earn merit with Dad. He still did. As much as he knew for a long, long time he wasn't Grandma's first choice. He was okay with that, mostly. He chose all of them, would ALWAYS choose them - nothing could ever change that. It was enough for him. Sort of. But this? He didn't know what he was thinking or expecting, really.

Friendships, beyond networking or acquaintances, stopped being effortless some time around university or basic. The brotherhood and camaraderie in his Airgroup was on par with his birth siblings and extended family, but not much went ahead that way after his stint in... THAT PLACE and early discharge, after Dad launched IR, after everything else happened, pulling him in a million different directions. Now, Gordon's mandatory jokes about a "boring old man" aside, he was self-aware enough to understand that beyond Thunderbird One or Mr. Tracy (no, not Jeff Tracy, sorry) of Tracy Industries, he was just Scott. Nothing special. Nothing particularly interesting. Certainly not enough time in his days (and nights) to accumulate catchy topics for conversation - a fact Lady Penelope never failed to reprimand him for over seemingly endless functions that somehow always ended up with him talking shop with World Council big wigs, financiers or investors, or even competitors. It was that or mind numbing chatter about yachts and villas, and resorts, or self-aggrandizing "endeavors". He left that to Lemaire. And he really should have known better than to earnestly hope to befriend a genius. Per his original point - John and Brains knew him since birth or childhood and didn't have a choice but to put up with him. Tycho Reeves did. And chose not to. Figures!

It seemed like a fairly straightforward arrangement. A Science and Industry Council was to start a session Monday in Geneva. Brains did not object to the opportunity to fly in earlier and stay at CERN over the weekend to go over something or other with Dr. Moffat. The sniggers of the Tinies were sternly dismissed, thus encouraged,  not suppressed. Tycho Reeves was on a secondment at CERN, working on something Scott strongly suspected was GDF funded particle acceleration research for another go at a T-drive, heretofore abandoned after the fateful day of the Zero-X launch. The whimsical scientist never quite failed to loose touch after their ordeal in the Hypercar, chatting away about the most wayward ideas and the most mundane things that caught his fancy - much to Scott's amusement - in messages or over occasional holocalls. Especially if a particularly dramatic rescue made it to the Global News. Since Scott was on the SIC board and expected in Geneva for the week, booked to capacity with panels, a quick and surprisingly pleasant plan was concocted: he volunteered to take Brains over in One (or, rather, volunteered Brains to take One with him, the engineer's greenish hue notwithstanding) on Friday, they'd grab a coffee with Dr. Reeves and see what Geneva scenic area had to offer for the weekend of some friendly catching up. Scott would have One on hand in case of a major emergency. He'd never seen John take him off roster faster. Yet here he was, back on the island that same Friday, making his way back to the lounge to busy himself with... anything, really, other than thoughts in his own head.

The sight greeting him, once he made it up from the hangars, would have been more than welcome on any other occasion. He truly never was NOT glad to see his brothers. And John planetside, down from Five early, acclimatizing to gravity before his own trip to Geneva with Virgil for the relevant panels next week, was a rare and precious treat. But right now Scott would have strongly preferred to be alone and dodge questions for as long as he could. Of course, John and, by extension, Virgil would have known the moment One took off from the CERN landing pad, so now his brothers were camping out in the lounge, waiting for him. Maybe he should have banked for Gran Roca and holed up there till Monday morning.

Virgil was seated on one of the sofas, reading. John was leaning on him sideways, his long legs hooked over the armrest at an angle that could have appeared uncomfortable to anyone who didn't know the Ginger Spaceman well. John was flicking through screens on his tablet and typing away, atmospheric glasses perched on the tip of his nose comically. They looked settled quite cosily for a quiet and (hopefully) uneventful evening. Kayo and the Tinies were probably out and about, soon to join them on the couches. Scott's heart ached. He really didn't want to be a distraction of his loved ones' priceless downtime with his moping. But it was probably too late to turn the corner and sneak into Dad's office or up to his rooms. It probably wouldn't help either, if he knew his family at all. Both John and Virgil looked up at him simultaneously. John sat up wordlessly, making room for Scott to insert himself between them. Virgil shifted his arm to the back of the couch, making a flannel bracket for Scott to lean into. As usual, Virgl's eyes and expression asked everything his voice didn't - he gave the eldest brother a soft and slightly concerned once over, leaving worry hang in the air should Scott choose to elaborate. Scott was grateful for that, settling himself into the slot on the couch, his eyes steadily trained on the carpet. If asked what went wrong, he probably wouldn't be able to explain anyway re: being stupid and unable to maintain meaningful adult relationships with acquaintances. John flopped back, using Scott's shoulder now as a headrest and making a little show of finding a comfortable spot, as Scott's was not as coushonie as Virgil's. Virgil reached around Scott's shoulder and gave the ginger head a light cuff. Scott found himself smiling a bit at that. God, he loved them so much!

The silence was comfortable and Scott let himself to just be wrapped up in it. John kept tapping at his tablet. At a certain point it pinged back and John seamlessly forwarded the message to Virgil's comm. Scott trained his eyes sideways to catch that it was from Dr. Moffat:

"Dr. Reeves invited his ex husband to assist in experiments for the weekend."

Scott could feel more than see Virgil's face fall with a stifled sigh. Yeah, that... He really hated being a spoilsport for his brothers, who had a thing going on about him needing enrichment and fulfillment. And an emotional burden. Now Virgil was visibly upset on his behalf on an otherwise perfectly nice Friday night. Scott felt the muscles in his neck and back tense and tried to deflect. Maybe they'll drop it all till Monday? Then he'll be safely gone for a week and after that this whole fiasco would be forgotten. He shifted a hand to tug at John's sweatpants lightly:

- How do you know Moffie, anyway?

- Oxford.

John shrugged noncommittaly, but, surprisingly, slipped a hand from his lap and linked with his. It had always been their thing - a silent gesture, usually offered by Scott, free for the taking if John was feeling overwhelmed or down, or didn't feel like more physical contact. His brother's palm was cold in his own. As if on queue, a stronger, warmer squeeze reached his shoulder. Virgil threw in a little headbutt too. Their own Morse code for "I'm here. Are you okay?" Truth be told, he was getting a lot better by the minute. Maybe it didn't gave to be a bad day, after all.

- So, do you want me to debunk his scientific credentials or to block funding of his next hyper-rail?

Scott must have zoned out for a moment, as he nearly jumped at the non sequitur.

- Come again?!

John sighed and, Scott was sure, rolled his eyes:

- I can go over every one of his published papers with a comb and call every result into question. Hypercar had faulty calculations, for one. Or I can freeze his funding. Or both.

- What?! Why?!

Scott was not holding up a very intelligent end of this conversation, but he was shocked. He felt John shrug once more against his shoulder.

- Nobody hurts my brother. Nothing I haven't done before.

- Huh?!?

Scott was beyond coherent communication at this point and looked at Virgil for help. Virgil appeared a little bit too amused to his comfort. John perched the tablet on his lap and went on, like explaining to a five year old:

- I got Stacy Sims un-admitted to college after she dumped you two weeks before the prom. She lied about her extra-curriculars in the application, anyway.

Scott resigned himself to interjections and an appalled grunt. What he didn't expect was for the sweetest, kindest Virgil to chime in:

- Didn't you have Erin disbarred too?

His ex-fiancée of the ill-fated Big New Year's break-up Erin? The hot-shot corporate lawyer Erin? Scott felt his ears ring. Maybe he overdid it with Mach 19, hightailing from CERN? And here he thought she dropped out of the New York City scene having moved operations to Europe. John was speaking up again:

- That's right. Disbarred and prosecuted for corporate espionage.

- Seriously?! That bitch?! Cool!

There was a slap of bare feet on the floor. In a moment Gordon flopped backwards across both Scott's and Virgil's knees. Scott's feeble "Language!" was buried in the rustle of fabric and the crunch of a celery bar.

- Sorry, *the* Bitch! Allie and I were legit afraid the Evil Almost Stepmother was gonna Harry-Potter us into the broom closet.

- She wanted to send the Tinies away to a military boarding school, find a loophole in Dad's estate and strip Virgil and I of inheritance. And build a wellness resort at Gran Roca. I hacked her DMs.

John adjusted his glasses primly to sit higher on his nose and focused back on the tablet. Scott groaned out loud and turned to Virgil again, keeping his voice a whisper this time:

- Why didn't you tell me any of this?

Virgil's smile was genuinely contrite and Scott felt his heart crack once more.

- You seemed into her. We always want you happy.

He really shouldn't try and meet people again. Ever. This was too much. Scott let his eyes rest for five seconds, then tapped John's hand, still resting in his:

- Please, don't do anything now!

John tilted his head to look at Scott upside down. Turquoise eyes were serious.

- Noone hurts my brother. Not even said brother, if he's being an idiot. Let the record show I'm fully prepared to have you admitted for psych eval the next time you jump off a cliff with a jetpack on bingo fuel, or fall for a narcissistic egomaniac.

Gordon was snorting at that. Too stunned to approach the statement from any number of meaningful angles, Scott went for the tried and true Scandalized Big Brother.

- Awwww, Johnny, that's so thoughtful of you! If you wanted control of my assets, all you had to do was ask - I'd write everything off to you in a heartbeat!

John put the tablet down again - a paragon of composure.

- Let the record indicate further that I have no vested interest in your collection of rare mismatched socks, brother mine.

Gordon full on hollered at that, limbs flailing every which way. Scott reached his free arm out instinctively, stopping the Fish from rolling down on the floor. He couldn't help his own grin. An extra nudge of soft flannel from the other side sent a warm, fuzzy wave all over.

That was the moment Alan and Kayo stepped out of the elevator, hands full of stacks of pizza boxes. If Kayo raised a quizzical brow in the general direction of the couch and exchanged glances with John - it was lost in the ensuing mayhem of passing over pillows and blankets for a proper puppy pile, batting somebody's hand off the *perfect* slice of pizza, popcorn fights, tickle fights, untangling the Squid, poking the Bear, rock-paper-scissoring to choose the movies and the watching order, having Eos calculate the statistical average of Alan being sent to fetch drinks, the works. Scott let himself sink deep beneath the surface of the white noise of people he loved most in the world, and feel the coil in his gut unwind a bit. Maybe it didn't have to be a bad day at all.

TBTBTBTB

Dr. Tycho Reeves found a rubber glove blocking his vision. The large, heavy-duty one, usually used in the labs when working with hazardous substances. He looked up from the calculations. The glove didn't move away, just shook a little in a lightly trembling hand of his usually quiet colleague.

- What is that?

- I-it-t's a g-gauntlet.

Tych drew his eyes up to the sight of Dr. Hiram Hackenbacker pretty much reeling with fury and Dr. Moffat by his side, arms crossed in indignation.

- A gauntlet?

He didn't know what else to say.

- Ye-es. You up-pset m-my f-friend. I will h-hereb-by ch-challenge every d-disc-covery you m-make.

Tycho sagged, lowering his eyes back to the floor. That allowed Dr. Moffat to reach up on her tiptoes and cuff him up the head. That'd be the second one he got today. The first was from Simon, his erstwhile research partner and ex, as he left CERN to go back to enjoying the weekend with the new family before the start of the Science and Industry Council sessions. Moffie was not done yet.

- What the HELL were you thinking?!!! The most incredible guy on the planet is not opposed to having coffee with you and you sabotage it with inviting an ex over?!!!!

Well, about that... The truth of the matter was - Tycho Reeves had no idea how to deal with the most incredible guy on the planet being not opposed to remembering his name, let alone having an actual meet up, coffee and small talk, and all. How soon would it be till Tycho shot himself in the foot with some awkward eccentricity, or rambled on a mile an hour till Scott was barely following with polite boredom and checking his watch. Or, worse, invented an emergency to get out. Tycho knew he was a genius, but he was quite aware of being a nerd too. And there were only so many nerds someone like Scott Tracy could tolerate in his immediate company at any given time. Brains was a long-time partner of Scott's father and knew him, supposedly, since childhood. Tycho was passably familiar, and thoroughly impressed, with Scott's other brother's work on Astrophysics. Dr Reeves himself would be one nerd too many. Besides, he didn't fit the bill of familial affection. Or any other affection, for that matter. So, in pursuit of self-preservation, Tycho maybe overreacted, inviting a rather perplexed Simon over for the day at CERN. And now Dr. Hackenbacker was up in arms and the most incredible guy on the planet was upset or, more likely, outraged. Maybe he did shoot himself in the foot after all. Tycho dared to peek up at Brains, still staring daggers at him.

- What do I do now?

It was Dr. Moffat's turn to give him a Look and to throw her hands up in the air for an unvoiced "I can't believe you!". Brains furrowed his brow, actually thinking over some options.

- You c-can, AX-SID-DENTALLY c-come over to m-my p-panel M-monday and st-tay for c-coffee. Sc-cott always keeps m-me c-company after b-big p-presentations. He's a v-very g-good friend and b-boss.

A coffee-break after the first panel meeting of SIC Monday. Tycho Reeves could do that. He was sure he'd be watched like a hawk and would regret it if Scott as much as frowned. But it was worth a shot. The most incredible guy on the planet was worth a slim chance to make things right. Tycho Reeves had a feeling he was facing the longest two days and the most terrifying fifteen minutes of his life.

[nowoolallowed]

Sitting Image of Merit - Rijkmuseum Von Oudheden Collection

Inventory Number: AST 2 New Kingdom ; 18th Dynasty; Horemheb 1319-1307 BC. Location Information: Egypt, Saqqara, tomb of Maya

Description:

Merit is Maya's wife. Like many notable ladies, she bears the title 'singer of Amon'. In her hands she holds a menat: a necklace of many strings of beads with a figure of the goddess Hathor as a counterbalance in the neck. This is used as a rattle to accompany temple chants.

[jgroffdaily]

Willkommen and bienvenue to another round of anonymous Tony voters debating the merits of this year’s nominations, with Stereophonic and Hell’s Kitchen leading the marquees with 13 nominations each. Despite all the mothers, rock-and-roll doyens, and Waystar Royco employees trying to lure us to the Theater District, our two veteran Tony voters aren’t overly enthralled by the season. They think it’s one of the strongest years for plays in recent memory. But for musicals? Eh, maybe some shouldn’t have made the transfer from across the pond. And while Stereophonic and Merrily We Roll Along are destined for further greatness, the voters don’t think being a Hollywood star guarantees an acting trophy. Ahead of the June 16 ceremony at Lincoln Center, they weighed in on where they stand and why.

Best Performance by a Leading Actor in a Musical

Brody Grant — The Outsiders Jonathan Groff — Merrily We Roll Along Dorian Harewood — The Notebook Brian d’Arcy James — Days of Wine and Roses Eddie Redmayne — Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club

Voter 1: There are three exceptional performances in this category. Brody and Brian are extraordinary, but my vote is going to Jonathan. His performance is the best of the year in any category, actually. He manages to make, on paper, a character who might be very unlikable and turn him into a complex human being who makes some pretty awful choices, and yet we understand the humanity behind those choices. It’s a staggering achievement.

Voter 2: My winner is Jonathan. That character is a total jerk the way it’s written, but he makes him completely sympathetic and it’s a beautiful performance. But I do want to say it’s an interesting list of names. I would’ve put money on Brian because that was an amazing performance. I probably would’ve predicted Eddie, even though it was a very divisive performance. I thought it was very stylized. I thought, Okay, you know what? That’s a choice. He was just sort of there for me, but I suspected he would get nominated because it’s one of “those” roles. Brody is saddled with two of the worst wigs on Broadway — he overcame them. The one glaring omission here is the star of Tommy, Ali Louis Bourzgui. That kid is a star. He’s so magnetic. I was enraptured from start to finish and I don’t understand why he’s not included.

Best Revival of a Musical

Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club Gutenberg! The Musical Merrily We Roll Along The Who’s Tommy

Voter 1: Merrily, Merrily, Merrily. I do think it’s disappointing that the one specifically BIPOC musical, The Wiz, was excluded. I’ll say that. I’m disappointed that it was snubbed. But for me, it’s Merrily in a walk. I really liked it downtown and I fucking loved it uptown.

Voter 2: Merrily. It’s always been my favorite. I know it’s the Stephen Sondheim black sheep show, but this is the best production I’ve ever seen and I think it’s the best production you will ever see. It finally works. There’s a lot of good you can say about these four shows, but Merrily is without question the one for me.

Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Musical

Roger Bart — Back to the Future Joshua Boone — The Outsiders Brandon Victor Dixon — Hell’s Kitchen Sky Lakota-Lynch — The Outsiders Daniel Radcliffe — Merrily We Roll Along Steven Skybell — Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club

Voter 1: This is another great category. I loved Steven and really loved Brandon. I thought both of the guys from The Outsiders were wonderful, but I’m all about Daniel. His delivery of “Franklin Shepard, Inc.” is award-worthy just for that song. Watching him grow as a stage actor has been a privilege. He’s one of the biggest stars in the world and he keeps coming back to the stage. In this production, he just takes it all to another level. It’s spectacular.

Voter 2: I’ll end up going with Daniel, but Steven, oh my God. I’m thinking about his performance and I’m almost crying again. Ron Rifkin won for that role in the last Cabaret revival. It’s definitely one of those roles that gets you noticed. But Tony nominators have had a habit of ignoring Daniel, so I was so happy they nominated him. He’s a fantastic stage actor. This isn’t a brag, but I’ve seen everything he’s done in New York on and off Broadway, and he gets better every time. His “Franklin Shepard, Inc.”? He’s singing the 11 o’clock number at 8:30. Come on. That’s a pretty tall order. Oh, I totally forgot about Back to the Future. I’m surprised Roger got in there.

Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Musical

Shoshana Bean — Hell’s Kitchen Amber Iman — Lempicka Nikki M. James — Suffs Leslie Rodriguez Kritzer — Monty Python’s Spamalot Kecia Lewis — Hell’s Kitchen Lindsay Mendez — Merrily We Roll Along Bebe Neuwirth — Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club

Voter 1: You won’t be surprised given all my Merrily love, but it’s Lindsay. She recently got married — Jonathan was the officiant and Daniel was the ring bearer. That’s how close they’ve become as friends, and that chemistry and love they have for one another is so evident onstage. Lindsay is really funny and sour; she oozes sarcasm, and yet she allows us to see the pain behind all the armor. In the final Merrily scene, we witness her innocence and her hopefulness in a way that I don’t think anyone sees coming. It’s acting at the highest level.

Voter 2: Even though I love Merrily and Lindsay here, I’m inclined to vote for Kecia for Hell’s Kitchen. I didn’t love the show, but she was one of the reasons I liked it. Oh my gosh, her voice. She anchors the show in a lot of ways. She’s also one of those actors who’s always been around and doing fantastic work. She made her Broadway debut at age 18 in Dreamgirls, playing Effie. This show is just another reminder of her talents. It’s not like we should give Tonys for longevity or lifetime achievement, but I feel like this is just another reminder of, Yes, Kecia is fantastic. That might put me over the top for her.

[daincrediblegg]

I’ve been seeing some complaints about Hari’s wig so I’ve decided to use my arcane knowledge of Jared Harris images to rate some looks from 1 (I’m questioning my choices) to 10 (I’ve never been more right) in order to prove the point that that wig wasn’t even the worst look he's ever had. Not even close.

1. the jaz haz of receiving psychic damage. With the exception of the moustache he is perfectly fine (honey. Listen. It just doesn’t work in this case. ily) but also him making that face specifically like he’s psyduck personified is extremely funny to me. 7/10

2. He looks like he could conceivably be in mortal kombat??? But also his fatality move would be the lamest shit ever? Babygirl you don’t fight like that. Put those things down. You’re gonna hurt yourself. Simultaneously I feel like I’ve stumbled onto the set of a very strange porno from the 70’s and I’m actually a little uncomfortable (again. Honey. You can do better with the stache thing. I’ve seen it. There are some good images with you in a mustache. It’s not this one tho I’m sorry) 5/10

3. The fuckin wig. Listen. Y’all in the hair and makeup department do wonderful things on this show. Really. I mean that. But what made us say that this is the move? Who said “young Hari, huh? I know what to do” and then made him a fucking beatle in the worst way possible (though I can’t entirely fault them- wouldn’t be the first time he’s done this). Though I suppose they didn’t want us to forget that this show is a comedy, and at least they’re aware of that. 5/10

5. … who is he? He came out of the fucking woods with the most unimaginable stank and breath of haggis. I literally am completely baffled by his presence. Perhaps a little perturbed by it. Perhaps a little turned on. Who knows. Schrodinger’s rating: either 2/10 or 6/10 depending on how desperate I am

6. Literally the ideal man. I don’t know what to tell you folks but you’re lookin at him. He looks like he just stumbled out of an elton john houseparty at 3am and is still riding out his ecstasy high and if he asked me for my firstborn child I don’t think I or any godly creature could possibly refuse him. 100000/10

7. Orenge. This one I felt merited 3 consecutive images bc the frequency of this appearance astounds me. This man like my father before him has held onto his yellow sunnies from the 90’s for far too long. There has never been a more depression image ever shot than that first one and it was really mean of the person who took this to do that, but also it’s a mood somehow. Can’t shake the combo of this with the buzz tho like thats… buddy there are better choices. I am glad you are making them now but damn. 4/10

8. Danger Will Robinson… you’ve been assigned old man at birth by production crew. Even that benjamin button cunt didn’t have it this bad. EVEN WIG BOY HARI SELDON DOESN’T HAVE IT THIS BAD!!!! I deadass want to take him home and put him in a bath and make him bathe in conditioner for a week. 1/10

9. Now look here sonny jim. You can’t do this to him. Like I’m sorry. What was the logic here, disney? You make a man look so unabashedly GORGEOUS with the long red hair and the outfit and the whole thing? Only to have him say fuck all?? You don’t deserve him. NONE of you deserve him. I want to take him to a whore house in red dead redemption and fuck him silly. I want justice for the bitches that wronged him. 9/10

[malewife-pirate]

demigod OC in the hades game style!!

her outfit is all pulled from either ancient Egyptian depictions of Set/ historical outfits!! her hair is based of a real wig found in the tomb of Kha and Merit:)

Anyway she’s so silly she makes me nauseous

[marukrawler]

Headcanons about Spectra ?

spectra's blonde hair is actually a wig, which seems to be supported by canon.

due to his high intellect, spectra had been helping out with certain vestal projects as keith fermin, among other things he designed the battle arenas used on new vestroia. this is how hydron heard of keith but has never heard of mira (again, this seems to be supported by canon.)

spectra "dated" mylene briefly before they became part of the vexos. it was mostly a physical relationship that didn't last long because their egos would constantly clash and create tension between them.

spectra had to raise mira from a young age due to their father's negligence. i like to think that spectra's feelings towards his father are very complex; he resents his father for abandoning his children but spectra also understands why his father did it because they share the same morbid curiosity for scientific advancement and power. spectra can't find it in himself to blame dr. clay entirely when he most likely would have done the same thing if put in clay's shoes.

as much as he isn't an active participant in his father's intellectual pissing contest, spectra donned the mask partly because he wished for his contributions to be recognized on his own merits and not linked to his father's. he wanted to leave a lasting mark on vestal, completely unrelated to the fermin name but rather the name he had chosen for himself.