#oc: samuel who

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday, OC First Encounter, Seven Sentence Sunday & Top Ten Songs on Repeat

Tagged by the lovelies @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @raresvtm @imogenkol and @josephseedismyfather

Tagging @direwombat @noodlecupcakes @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @josephslittledeputy @cassietrn @g0dspeeed @aceghosts @cloudofbutterflies92 @derelictheretic @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard and @yokobai + anyone else who'd like to join.

Music for an original character, Rouske, A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore and The UnTitledverse, Seven Sentences for a Life, Despair & Monsters WIP, OC First Encounter for The Silver Chronicles and my top ten songs on repeat. Listen and read below the cut:

In my Fallout 4 WIP A Symbol For A Better World from my A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore series, I take a lot of joy in writing out my Sole Survivor OC Nate Gust Sarid being in charge of the Minutemen, especially with Ress' influence. Like Nate is pretty charismatic (in an odd sort of way) and has a fundamental understanding on how recruitment works, but Ress has been apart of her family's crime boss management and has witnessed how other factions use certain values to recruit others, including her own brother. Considering how low in numbers and scattered the Minutemen are, Nate devises a plan with Ress to start making advertisements (with the help of Piper) to convince people to join the Minutemen, a form of passive-aggressive combat against the Brotherhood of Steel's propaganda, with one core value being "belonging". This also helps Nate better convince Danse to join the Minutemen when the latter is found out to be a synth; especially since Danse has come across/heard the advertisements and even teamed up with Nate at that point in the WIP, that the idea of joining the Minutemen doesn't seem that far fetched of an option when presented.

"Young man, there's no need to feel down I said, young man, pick yourself off the ground I said, young man, 'cause you're in a new town There's no need to be unhappy Young man, there's a place you can go I said, young man, when you're short on your dough You can stay there and I'm sure you will find Many ways to have a good time

It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A They have everything For young men to enjoy You can hang out with all the boys It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A You can get yourself clean You can have a good meal You can do whatever you feel

Young man, are you listening to me? I said, young man, what do you wanna be? I said, young man, you can make real your dreams But you've got to know this one thing No man does it all by himself I said, young man, put your pride on the shelf And just go there to the Y.M.C.A I'm sure they can help you today!"

Rouske is a character who is as covered in layers as he is full of contradictions. He's the archbishop of Yahar'ghul, practically it's leader, therefore representing Yahar'ghul itself (the violence, depravity, callousness towards life and just the horrible self-inflicted nature of it all) and yet, in spite of this horribleness that he acknowledges within himself, aspires to save people by taking them into the Paragon of Extinction's dreamscape while it burns the multiverse out once awoken. He is often the most calm, self-disciplined and speaks with a refined vocabulary, which contrasts him from his fellows. He is closer to the disposable Pthurmerian Snatchers who barely make a noise beyond a snarl than he is to his self-interested human cohorts who are either loud and obnoxious or as refined as he is, just with less politeness. Rouske both has faith in his plan and yet has various doubts, but in the end never backs down from completing it. But everything gets even more ambiguous with his relationship with a woman from his past. She isn't named beyond being referred to as a "yūrei" (hence the quotations), which if the translator is correct is a Japanese word for "specter" or even "ghost". Which by Rouske's POV, she is; an apparition from his past only ever viewed in one memory of his. In no other circumstances is she ever shown beyond this one muddled memory Rouske has of her. Sometimes the older cohorts of Yahar'ghul refer to her but their information on her are often contradicting and vague, merely rumor. Rouske is the sole person to even have an interaction with her, although the reliability of Rouske's memory of her is questionable. Descriptions of her often change, the setting too, and their relationship is intentionally left unclear; is she his mother? Sister? Family member? Her vocabulary is described as being just as refined and similar to his own. A friend? Lover? Crush? Rival? Enemy? Outcast? Stranger? Future successor or the previous Archbishop? Nothing is clear... and will never be clear, since Rouske has been alive for so long that traveling the Multiverse that his memories aren't what they used to be. The only consistent thing he remembers about her are her words to him; something that rattles him to the present day. Makes him question Yahar'ghul's horrible traditions. Regardless, his refusal to fully remember her and his interaction with her has a thematic reason; the main theme of this concept of a WIP I'm not going to write is "Memories" and "Remembrance", which also acts as a key to being able to "change yourself as a person". Whereas the protagonists succeed in this, Rouske is showing an utter refusal to do so; whatever pain he associates with "Yūrei" and the truth behind her words hurt more than acknowledging he has done wrong and should cease this destructive plan and face the unfairness of the multiverse instead of running and escaping from it. He refuses to remember "Yūrei" fully, and being the one person who even managed to crack his faith in Yahar'ghul's traditions, he also refuses to see himself beyond what he's been taught; only that he is from Yahar'ghul, and Yahar'ghul is nothing but horrible.

"I hurt myself today To see if I still feel I focus on the pain The only thing that's real

The needle tears a hole The old, familiar sting Try to kill it all away But I remember everything

What have I become? My sweetest friend Everyone I know goes away In the end

And you could have it all My empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns Upon my liar's chair Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair

Beneath the stains of time The feelings disappear You are someone else I am still right here

What have I become? My sweetest friend Everyone I know goes away In the end

And you could have it all My empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt

If I could start again A million miles away I would keep myself I would find a way."

And finally, some OC stuff on Leslie Who from The UnTitledverse series and how his bond with his son Samuel Who and his mentorship over Joaquin Cobalt shape their lives. For Samuel, Leslie's parenting of him allows the boy to carry the values of kindness and faith even in the Pride Ring of Hell, looking out for his loved ones (especially Charlie Morningstar) and the little guy. Meanwhile, Leslie's mentorship over Joaquin gives the young boy a stable adult figure in his life, one who instills in him the values of mercy and forgiveness and to focus on what matters (like his friends and family of choice) rather than his own short-term pursuits (instant vengeance against Edward Carmine and being of service to an authority that seemingly aligns to his moral ideals). Love my grandpa OC rising to his mid 70s who has a son that's an advisor to Hell's royal family and a kid he's basically a parental figure to who's the leader of a multiverse task force that regularly kick the asses of fascists and whatnot. And both Samuel and Joaquin are trans, so trans ally old man for the win.

("Hey!") "Once upon a younger year When all our shadows disappeared The animals inside came out to play When face to face with all our fears Learned our lessons through the tears Made memories we knew would never fade

One day my father, he told me, "Son, don't let it slip away" He took me in his arms, I heard him say "When you get older, your wild heart will live for younger days Think of me if ever you're afraid"

He said, "One day, you'll leave this world behind So live a life you will remember" My father told me when I was just a child "These are the nights that never die" My father told me

When thunderclouds start pouring down Light a fire they can't put out Carve your name into those shining stars He said, "Go venture far beyond the shores Don't forsake this life of yours I'll guide you home no matter where you are"

One day my father, he told me, "Son, don't let it slip away" He took me in his arms, I heard him say "When you get older, your wild heart will live for younger days Think of me if ever you're afraid"

He said, "One day, you'll leave this world behind So live a life you will remember" My father told me when I was just a child "These are the nights that never die" My father told me

These are the nights that never die My father told me

My father told me!"

Here's a six sentence snippet of my Guenevere WIP where recently married/crowned Guenevere ends up (somehow) lost in woods far from wandering in the kingdom's gardens earlier. So she takes aid from a noble gentleman who seems to know the way back. If only she knew what awaited her...

When I looked down and met his eyes, I found myself briefly still; never before had I seen such rings be as dark as the pupils within. I would go as far and say they were almost void.

A chill rippled across my skin, goosebumps summoned and a minor thought said, Run.

But it was fleeting, the thought, for how ridiculous it is that I should be afraid of such a short, non-threatening nobleman. Especially when he was wearing such an oddly square hat.

I didn't have much other option either, considering he was likely my only way back to the wedding and out of the woods. And I doubted he'd risk doing nefarious deeds on Camelot's newly crowned queen of a beloved king. At least I hoped not...

"Shall we get going, your majesty?" Sir Enigma asked with a smile, gesturing to his odd carriage, breaking me out of my thoughts.

And lastly my top ten repeating songs:

"This Comes From Inside" by The Living Tombstone

"Maps" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs

"Silence" by Marshmello ft. Khalid

"Let You Down" by NF

"Genghis Khan" by Miike Snow

"Skin And Bones" by David Kushner

"Outro" by M83

"Sweet Oblivion" by David Kushner

"At All Costs" by Chris Pines & Ariana DeBose

"The Line" by Twenty One Pilots

[ultrainfinitepit]

Rococo Reaper - if you like this design, you can pledge for it in my upcoming pin campaign Themed Monster Enamel Pins.

[bernard-the-rabbit]

these were ref studies for the god and the priest of my CoS cleric, haven't used them yet but have them since ive been only drawing school project stuff

[atempause-art]

the squad is all here < 3 absolutely horrendous family

jeden vedle druhýho samej debil nebo blbeček

[a-tired-gothamite]

Kinda wish I could afford college...

Maybe I should join a gang or something, they pay well right? There's like a hundred around here...

(OOC: open rp technically idk if there's any blogs like this except the COO so...)

[this-should-do]

thinking about my lone wanderer,,, heres him at most a day out of the vault

[screechingsandwichhologram]

my amrev ocs if they had tumblr

🌓 dressedsword

HOLY SHIT PAUL REVERE JUST RODE THROUGH TOWN HOLY FUCK ITS HAPPENING

🪁 kiterrrrr Follow

why r you blogging and not fighting. fake ass

🌓 dressedsword

bitch i'm a fucking woman. can't exactly pull up to fort william and mary in stays now can i

🐴 pennsylvaniarifle Follow

not if ur coward

35 notes

🐏 tumblefarmer

man we kicked their fucking assesss let's goooo !!! first fight of rebellion woooo !!!

👒 spindledpoet

..... i'm glad you made it back home but not sure we should be celebrating the beginning of what certainly will become a war

🌓 dressedsword

john shut the fuck up ur just salty sam trampled ur flowers on his way out of the house

5 notes

🌺 massalilly Follow

FIRST SHOTS FIRED IN LEXINGTON AND CONCORD HOLY SHIT

🐏 tumblefarmer

WHAT THE FUCK MASSHOLES RUIN EVERYTHING

17,756 notes

👒 spindledpoet

hey guys is coughing up blood normal

💦 pantingmanthing Follow

NO???

👒 spindledpoet

damn

12 notes

👣 sandyfootprints Follow

god war fucking sucks. first day on the job and im spitting out some dudes blood. he probably had a wife. cant even drink bc they told us not to

❣ crimsonfingerlicking

yummy

👣 sandyfootprints Follow

why am i on tumblr

67 notes

🐏 tumblefarmer

guys. i really really really wanna join the war. is that a good idea. my cousin is ill and his sister is unmarried but i cant just stand by. i cant leave them but i must fight for my homeland and for the freedom my ancestors were promised

🫡 kissingcontinental Follow

join us we need men so so bad plsss

🪶 writerlover Follow

fight to build a better tomorrow for your family

🐏 tumblefarmer

okay im doing it!!! going down to mass this weekend

23 notes

🌓 dressedsword

hey so like. is. is. do we think that. maybe in the new country we could like. idk . maybe uhhh. give women rights?

1 note

🐏 tumblefarmer

guys war sucks ass its so fucking boring im just sitting in camp. a guy just fucking sneezed in my food. i hate it here

🌹rosedlionheart Follow

thats what you yankees get for picking a fight with the strongest army in the world

🐏 tumblefarmer

doesnt ur king piss blue

784 notes

🫶 letteredolley Follow

damn my fav dress maker is too sick to make me a new dress :// fuck my life

🐓 kickerchicker Follow

girl we are in the middle of a war that is Not the thing to worry about

💋 marieantoinette Follow

god forbid women do anything

🥖 lalanterne Follow

wrong dash. ur time will come

1,789 notes

🕯️carpediemcandled Follow

aw fuck the cute boy that was stationed near me just fucking died from camp fever </3

🕯️ carpediemcandled Follow

he was so cute too :// a french canadian farmer from new hampshire that was like. super into sheep and goats. he was super clumsy too. but like in a cute way

🕯️ carpediemcandled Follow

aughhhh :((( i was going to bring him one of my nice candles :(((

10 notes

🌓 dressedsword

FUCK

0 notes

👒 spindledpoet

yknow that feeling you get when you look at your reflection and you feel like you are going to throw up

🙏 universalfriend Follow

yes

👒 spindledpoet

thanks

7 notes

❣️crimsonfingerlicking

is there.... money? in war

🦁 redbloodedredcoat Follow

dm me

2 notes

🦋 painfulpoet Follow

@ spindledpoet are you , okay??

👒 spindledpoet

i have a horrible thing inside me that i understand now but i can not continue. i am dying.

👒 spindledpoet

please do not let them forget that i was among you

9 notes

👒 spindledpoet

i am making a dress. i must finish it. it will be the best yet. it will be my last one. delphine needs the dress. she needs the dress. i need the dress

1 notes

🦋 painfulpoet Follow

@ dressedsword hey is ur brother okay?

🌓 dressedsword

he is very ill and delirious often. our cousin has died in the war. i have little means of supporting us and he is too sick to leave the bed. when he is aware he cries and writes. his handwriting has spoiled

🌓 dressedsword

he is not for long. he will be gone before any letter or parcel of yours will travel the atlantic. i am sorry

4 notes

👒 spindledpoet

i don't want to hurt my sister but delphine is waiting for me

0 notes

🌓 dressedsword

gonna log off for a bit

1 notes

🌗 designedpamphlet Follow

shit. i'm fucking doing this

0 notes

[morelikesin]

Drowning.

Trying.

Grieving.

-

Practicing my portraiture; albeit through unconventional means.

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday & Ship Aesthetics Template

Tagging @voidika @raresvtm @josephseedismyfather @noodlecupcakes @imogenkol @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies @aceghosts @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @derelictheretic @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who'd like to join.

Next trio of Hazbin Hotel songs is for Life, Despair & Monsters, A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore (TW for that) and The UnTitledverse as well as template for the two main protagonists of An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts Trilogy. You can listen and view below the cut and find the blank template at the bottom:

[TW: Minor discussion of Fallout's in-game representation of substance abuse and addiction first up]

In my Fallout 4 WIP A Symbol For A Better World, there's a topic that I believe has never been handled properly (amongst many other topics) in majority of the Fallout games (but most especially those influenced by Todd Howard), and that is of addiction, and characters afflicted by addiction. It's something I noticed in Fallout New Vegas and had become evident to me in Fallout 4, and one of the many things I wanted to personally do justice in my A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, especially when it comes to companion quests, most specifically Cait's. Her story ends with her addictions being magically cured by a machine that instantly gets rid of addictions, something that I've noticed had brought a sour taste in many people's mouths. Now I'm still working on the WIP, especially with Cait's story, so it's probably gonna be a while before that comes out. Here's "Poison", another Hazbin Hotel song that I think tackles the topics of substance abuse (including the victim often suffering under the people/supplier exploiting the victim's addictions), a few really unhealthy coping mechanisms for the addict themselves and the shitty experience of that in general rather well. I acknowledge it doesn't entirely encapsulates everyone's experiences with addiction but it is something that does happen. Listen below:

"I got so good at bein' untrue I got so good at tellin' you what you wanna hear I disassociate, disappear Yeah, yeah, yeah

So far beyond difficult To resist another gulp

Yeah, I know it's poison, you're feedin' me poison I'm chokin' from the taste and I can't help but swallow Up your poison, I made my choice And every night I'm wasted like there's no tomorrow

Oh-oh, oh-oh Any way you want me, baby That's the way you got me, I'll be yours My story's gonna end with me dead from your poison

Poison, I'm drownin' in poison I'm fillin' up my glass but it's always hollow Full of poison, I'm sick of the poison Wish I had somethin' to live for tomorrow."

Next song is my all-time favorite Hazbin Hotel song, "Loser, Baby", and even though I've done this from an older post, I'll do it again! One of the key relationships in my House Of The Dragon WIP The Thorned Crown Of Iron Thrones is between Prince Aegon II Targaryen and former assassin Okkotsu. Aegon and Okkotsu meet after the disastrous funeral for Laena where arguments were had and blood was spilled and fingers were pointed and family secrets emotionally damaged Aegon's older adopted brother Corvus. In the chaotic fray, Aegon runs off into the nearby woods to get some alone time, before bumping into Okkotsu, a rather infamous woman from a foreign land who attempted to assassinate the Targaryen royals several times before she gave up when it nearly costed her life one too many times. Aegon feels like a failure to his family, Okkotsu is a self-accepted failure, and they bond over this. This is a key canon-divergence, as unlike Viserys who mentally checked out on raising Alicent's children, as well as Rhaenyra, who wants nothing to do with her younger half-brother, Okkotsu, although she doesn't become his step-dad, instead she becomes the dad who steps up. And that's not hyperbole, I literally have a line saved for her where she more or less tells Aegon "don't worry, I'll be your dad from now on". And through the power of accepting themselves as poor sopping wet meow-meow pathetic blorbo screw-ups, she unknowingly changes the course of Aegon's future as he's no longer an unsympathetic piece of shit... he's just the first cringefailure loser in Westeros. "Loser, Baby" can be listened to below:

"So things look bad, and your back's against the wall Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall Can't face the world sober and dopeless You've lost your way, you think your life is wrecked Well, let me just say you're correct!"

"Wait, what?"

"You're a loser, baby A loser, goddamn baby You're a fucked-up little whiny bitch! ("Hey!") You're a loser just like me!" ("Thanks, asshole!")

You're a screws-loose boozer An only one-star reviews-er You're a power-bottom at rock bottom But you got company! ("This supposed to make me feel better?")

There was a time I thought that no one could relate To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight We're all livin' in the same shit sandwich!"

"I've been born to high-borne royalty!" *

"Haha! And you think that makes you unique? Get outta here, man!

We're both losers, baby We're losers, it's okay to be a-" "Blitzed-out, booze-drinkin' ho?" * "...Baby, that's fine by me."

"I'm a loser, honey A schmoozer and a dummy But at least I know I'm not alone!" "You're a loser just like me!"

"I got an appetite for gamblin'!" "I got an appetite for samplin' every drug and fine wine I can find!" * "Go ahead, baby, sing that song!"

"I got no coin left to spend up!" * "I gave up my mission to save myself * Now I'm stuck on the run!" * "I'm trapped and it gets worse every hour!"

"You're a loser, baby!" "A loser, but just maybe if we-" "Eat shit together, things will end up differently!"

"It's time to lose your self-loathin' Excuse yourself, let hope in, baby Play your card, be who you are!"

"A loser just like me!"

[* First change, Aegon hasn't literally sold his soul to anyone specifically, so being born into royalty (and all the burdens and consequences that come with that) was an easier substitute. Second change, Aegon mostly drinks and hasn't been up to sexual activities at this time (or any time from that point on). Also I put Okkotsu's little "..." pause to that since while she's not exactly judgemental, she is a little concerned. Third change, there are drugs in Westeros I've managed to find out... and also sex toys don't exist at this stage so "fine wine" was a clear and effective substitute. Fourth change, again, as stated in the second change, Aegon hasn't been up to any sexual activities at this stage, so I alluded to his gambling problem instead. Fifth & sixth changes, since Okkotsu hasn't made a deal with any demons that make her obligated to follow their commands, I instead replaced those lyrics with the fact that Okkotsu's given up her assassin career which simultaneously lets her keep her own life but puts her on the other side of both the law and the royalty who sent her after the Targaryens.]

In my Hazbin Hotel WIP Smile Tunes, Alastor is still as mysterious as ever, and Lucifer still retains his goofball tendencies, and both still one-up the other when trying to impress on Charlie's daddy's girl status, but one thing that's changed in my WIP is Samuel's presence. Samuel does not trust Alastor at all, and in fact is the one person trying to investigate who exactly Alastor is, what his game is for the hotel, and why exactly he went missing seven years prior. Samuel also becomes a sort of solid rock presence for Lucifer (whose a second father to him) to rely on and a big hand in helping Lucifer with his depression. Samuel in fact is one of the few people in his inner-court that Lucifer trusts without question, hence why he has Samuel keep an eye out on Charlie because Lucifer trusts that Samuel can look out for her. On another note with Lucifer's involvement, the King of Hell himself is absolutely baffled by the presence of Kingsley (much like Vaggie, hint hint, nudge nudge) despite the fact Kingsley should be recognizable as an exorcist, or at least an angel, due to his close resemblance too them, which alarms Samuel (and Vaggie) on what exactly Kingsley could be. Because if he isn't recognizable as an angel to the most infamous fallen angel of all... than what is Kingsley? Anyway, time to bop to "Hell's Greatest Dad":

"Haha! Looks like you could use some help From the big boss of Hell himself Check out Daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp! ("Five stars! Flawless! Greater than great!") Oh, with the punch of a pentagram I wap-bam-boom, alakazam Usually, I charge a sacrificial lamb But you get the family rate!" "Thanks, Dad!"

"Who needs a busboy now that you've got the chef? ("Whoa-oh-oh!") Michelin-tasting menu, free à la carte I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just the start!"

"Who's been here since day one? Who's been faithful as a nun? Who makes you chuckle with an old-timey pun? Your executive producer! ("That's true!") I'm your guy, your day-to-day Your chum, your steadfast hotelier Remember when I fixed that clog today?" "I was stuck, thank you, sir!" ("Oh, you!")

"I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond ("Aww!") You're like the child that I wish that I had ("Uh, what?") I care for you, just like a daughter I spawned ("Hold on now!") It's a little funny, you could almost call me dad!

They say when you're looking for assistance It's smart to pick the path of least resistance!" "Others say that in your needy hour There's no substitute for pure angelic power! Who just happens to also be your blood!" "Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud

They say the family you choose is better!" "What a bunch of losers!" "Can you butt out of my song?" "Your song? I started this!" "I'm singing it, I'll finish it!" "Oh, you tacky piece of-!"

And lastly a ship aesthetic template for the two now officially named main protagonists of An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts Original Trilogy; Jade Smith and Jasmine Rafiq, including their faceclaims too! Read up on them below:

Blank Template below:

[imaginepostingonsideblogs]

girl help the oc i made as a joke is getting lore and also making me so fucking sad

[fluffs-palace]

Gimme samuels fear

x

Question 9

Greatest Fear

Samuel didn't consider himself to be a coward by any means. Neither did anyone for that matter— especially Julian. Did you see the way he stood up to him when the good doctor told him it was over?

Yet, even so, he wasn't excempt from fear. Tentacles of paranoia writhed at his feet constantly, threatening to drag him into a deep and dark sea of dread. There were the little things like needles, sure, but most his life he spent desperately trying to block out two very specific fears.

Naturally, with memories sunk deep into his psyche— locked away tighter than any barnacle-ridden treasure chest their little crew would ever hope to find— the thought of never getting them back lingered with him. For years, he was plagued with that. Hiding the feeling from those around him; they couldn't fix it so why bother them with it?

It wasn't until two lost twins ended up on his and Julian's doorstep one random evening that that fear contorted itself into something new. Something much more powerful.

All it took was reuniting with his broken family to break him. Those two kids, his little brother and sister, told him so much. They were so excited to see him again and yet all he wanted to do was run.... again. Wait, again? He ran away. Samuel's from Prakra. He was never meant to be in Vesuvia.

Gods, the things they told him. Why he left. His mom... she was gone. That's why they found him again. Apparently, her and Samuel weren't close. So many siblings too. New nieces and nephews to meet. A band of new in laws. Hell, he even had new siblings he'd never even known about. A step father, half siblings, an older step brother. It was... overwhelming.

He would never know his mom again. What if they all hated him before? If he'd ran in the first place, he must of had a good reason, right? What if- No. He wasn't going to think about that.

No matter what, he was never getting those memories back. Not if he had a say in it.

[dxppercxdxver]

hello hello! in preparation for the opening of @tf2shipswag's oc bracket For Real i have written a vaguely persons-of-the-tale-esque bit of propaganda fiction in which our unwitting ocs experience a historical anachronism and discover they have been entered into the oc bracket! if you like early enemies to lovers and a tasteful dose of meta fiction (along with aggressively 18th century styled prose) you'll probably like this! i call it "there's such a thing as an author" or "persons of the tale But Worse"

Somewhere just to the left of the story well known, Samuel Mundy sat perched in the bay window, long legs stretched across the whorled-grain boards with languid content. Liquid summersong pooled in his lap with all the warmth of a loyal cat, golden and simple. The glass panes were thrown open to let in the comfort of the season—what little could be snatched from the jagged-toothed forest filled with the crack of gunfire, anyway—and he clutched a chipped china saucer in his fingers, picking at a fresh bread roll.

Gazing across the Manor’s ill-tended garden, Samuel sighed nearly dreamily, a reflexive smile playing across his cracked lips. For once, his little world was quiet, nary a disturbance to be found.

Of course, however, his peace was not destined to last, and Miss Pauling’s far off cry of, “Mail, boys!” roused the rabble from deep within the house’s corridors, who all came a-bustling with the energy of an anthill, and idle chatter filled the air, quickly snuffing the silence. Samuel, pointedly ensconced in his window-borne nest, merely watched his compatriots greet their friend and sponsor on the lawn as she distributed the sheaves of parchment and carefully tied packages amongst them. They were permitted some personal effects at their stations, which included a small allowance for assorted trinkets and treasures, and thus the days Miss Pauling ventured into town were filled with a quiet sort of excitement. Much as they were soldiers of a secret war, and trained for such, it grew dreadfully lonely and dreadfully threadbare.

This day, though… Something about it was different.

While the great majority of his fellows dispersed from the lawn as swiftly as they had come, their spy, Laurent, remained, conversing with Miss Pauling. Samuel could hardly make out a word at his distance, but his eyes were sharpened by his particular profession, and the feeling between their persons was a tense one. Her brows were furrowed sharply over the silvery frames of her spectacles, and Laurent’s hands formed clipped gestures at his sides. Whatever it was they spoke of, it hardly seemed a pleasant thing.

After mere moments more, Laurent plucked a paper from Miss Pauling’s elegantly gloved fingers and held it out before him, pursing his lips as he studied it, before shaking his head, offering Miss Pauling a crisp salute, and trudging across the lawn.

In what appeared to be Samuel’s direction.

Growling softly, Samuel wrinkled his nose, staring firmly down at his plate in some vain hope Laurent would pass him by, that the mysterious business he appeared so perturbed by was kind enough to leave Samuel alone. The last thing he needed was another catastrophe atop the neverending tumultuousness of his wartime existence.

“Bushman.”

In spite of his willing, Laurent’s infuriatingly smooth voice lilted into his ears with a weariness that belied an intent beyond an obligatory passing greeting, and Samuel found himself looking up to meet his tired gaze.

The warmer weather had done a kindness to the spy; his sallow complexion and skeletal frame were given a new life in the sun, and the embroidery in his suit shimmered like the finest of jewels. And still, Samuel couldn’t help but find him dour, unpleasant, and downright infectious in his discomfort. Almost in response to Laurent’s hardened grimace, Samuel shifted in his seat, his skin itching ‘neath his clothes.

“Spook.”

When the acknowledgement of Laurent’s presence failed to dispel him from Samuel’s immediate company, he sighed, and turned to properly face the equally beleaguered spy, letting his boots sway loosely beneath him.

“Unless it’s business, I’m not interested,” he said brusquely, fixing Laurent with a firm stare that he returned with unflinching readiness. Pale eyes bored into his own as Laurent shook his parchment bounty open with a sharp flick of the wrist.

“While my present port of call has little to do with our current occupation,” he said, calm and measured, “I have a feeling you will want to see this.”

The paper was rough and worn, stained deep yellow with the wear of travel, and the ink splashed across it was coming off on his skin and the leather of his glove in small flakes, but there was no mistaking the printing.

At first, Samuel blanched, presuming it a call for their heads, but as he read, the fear curdled into something far more baffling. Taking up most of the page was a sketched rendition of the two of them—sniper and spy—stood side by side, illustrated Laurent flashing a wry smirk at his ink-bound companion that the drawing of Samuel readily returned. Bold typeface toward the top spelled out “WANTED” clear as day, although there was no reward attached. Twirling arrows pointed to Laurent and him in turn, annotating precisely who was whom. There was yet more type at the bottom, but Samuel had rather stopped processing exactly what it said by then, and handed the sheet back to Laurent with an incredulous scowl.

“What in the hell is this?”

As Laurent crisply refolded it and placed it in an inner pocket, he replied, “We appear to have been entered into some sort of tournament.”

“Tournament?” Samuel’s mind whirled, spiraling out endless possibilities, each one markedly worse than the last, “As in… fighting?”

“Mercy of mercies, I do not believe so,” Laurent mused, crossing his arms and glancing into the distance. “Even with my considerable skill, we would hardly stand a chance with you on our side.”

“Watch your tongue, Frenchie.” Livid, Samuel snapped, instinctively reaching for the machete at his side. “Don’t pretend you’re not glad of this as well.”

Laurent snorted. “Of course I am, but it is hardly a matter of cowardice.”

“Yeah? What is it, then?”

“I do not wish to dirty my suit,” Laurent sneered, mouth curved sharp as his knife. In that moment, Samuel wished for nothing more than to knock that wretched expression from his face, but resorted instead to knotting his fist in the fabric of his shirt. It certainly would not do to lose his composure so early and in a place so visible to his superior, but oh how he longed to rattle Laurent around, maybe beat some sense into him along the way.

Samuel rolled his eyes. “Fine. If we’re not to be fighting, what exactly are we meant to be doing?”

“If I am interpreting the missive correctly,” Laurent said, smoothing the fine hairs of his wig, “it is really less of a gladiatorial affair, and more of a… popularity contest.”

“Oh.” Cocking his head, Samuel let the implications wash over him, feeling his body recoil in the wake. “Oh.”

“Strange, is it not?” Taking a deep breath, Laurent shrugged slow and deliberate. “Still, I suppose I might consider myself at an advantage. I have many a desirable quality to be considered…�� He trailed off, but Samuel was suddenly alight with energy.

Held in his hands was the opportunity to be absolutely devilish, and he seized it with vigor.

“Oh, really?” he said, feigning innocence. “Like what?”

Laurent whirled, eyebrow raised in sharp relief. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” Samuel poured as much sincerity into his voice as he could, leaning forward with earnest. “You see, we’ve been friends for so long—” he stifled a laugh, “—and I’d never even realized! Please, tell me about these ‘desirable qualities,’ I would love to hear all about them, and at the greatest of lengths.”

For a long, terrible pause, Laurent only stared, and Samuel faintly worried he was about to receive a length of cold steel across the throat or wedged between his ribs, but then Laurent’s cheeks flared red beneath his powder, and his mouth hung agape.

“You— you arse!” he snarled, seizing Samuel by the cravat and drawing their faces close. “You would do well to mind your manners, bushman. I do not abide mockery, nor do I suffer a fool, and you, sir, are a prime example. Remember this, lest I be forced to remind you.” With this, he drew his suit back, revealing the delicately tooled sheath for his beloved dagger. Samuel swallowed, thought up every prayer he could, and grinned wolfishly, fiddling with Laurent's elegant sleeve cuff.

“Wouldn’t want to get this dirty, would you?”

Laurent’s nostrils flared, his breath hot on Samuel’s lips, before he released him, pushing him back roughly and huffing, indignant. Samuel massaged his neck, relief coursing through his veins. A scant few feet away, Laurent stood in profile, nearly serene if not for the subtle movement of mute, furious speech.

“Nice talking to you,” Samuel said cheerfully, and, strange as anything, Laurent actually laughed. It was a brief, choked thing, barely identifiable as humor, if not for the smile playing across his face.

“You, sniper,” he said, reaching out and taking a bite of Samuel’s bread roll, “are a ridiculous, ridiculous man.” With this last remark, he about-faced and trudged across the lawn, spine ramrod straight and be-ribboned hair flouncing against his back.

“I know you are, but what am I?” Samuel called after him, and Laurent retorted with a sharp, “Go fuck yourself!” which Samuel could only meet with a thrown bread roll. It collided with the back of Laurent’s head with a satisfying muffled thunk, and Samuel cackled as Laurent let loose a long stream of French obscenities, harshly adjusting his wig so rudely whacked askew.

“I hope you know I despise you,” Laurent hissed once he had deemed himself presentable, and disappeared inside the house with the slam of the heavy oaken door.

“Yeah, yeah, hate you too,” Samuel said. Tucking his legs back into his window seat, he inhaled the lively summer air, and discovered he could not stop his beaming.

[as ever, flintlock fortress is a collaboration with @chiropteracupola]

[atempause-art]

decided to draw refs for body types of my current mains - i'm not saying i'm good at it but at least in my mind they are different from each other and i think in the end putting them all into one file for comparison and making also height chart out of it would be fun lol

started with ljuba who ended up getting full on ref cause her current one is hastily colored sketch that was completely unreadable and needed one for art fight anyway

[nejackdaw]

Since I haven't seen you post about Mags yet i'd looove to know more: 2, 3, 5, & 8 <3

-syd

Hi!!!! Sorry this took me so long to answer but also omg Mags 🎉 she's only partially made but I love she. Ty for the ask!

2. How long was the process before the character reached its final version? (or a version that would be clearly recognizable as the character?

She actually isn't done! I needed members for Samuel's ex military splinter group (turned against the government,) and she came to a decently formed state pretty quickly. Spent a couple of days thinking about her at random times/when trying to go to sleep and got a solid starting point. She's officially the second created member of the team!

3 + 5 secret combo: (3) What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story? (And) (5) How did you choose their name and why? Was it simply based on vibes or is there any specific meaning behind the name? Are the reasons behind their name different in- and out of universe?

When I was trying to come up with teammates for Samuel, I sort of initially tried to fish around for potential team roles/specializations to see if anything immediately stuck out. Since they go by handles instead of names, her name (Mags) was the first thing I knew about her--she's called Mags because she's the gun specialist (like a gun magazine.) Initially it was a tossup between Mags/Maggie but in my own head I only ever called her Mags, so that's what I settled on. I can't decide on an actual name for her, but if it's never used, does it matter? (/hj)

8. What is the origin of their personality? And let's be honest - how much of it is projecting? [Long rambling answer alert]

TLDR: woman who enjoys having unrestrained killing fun but wants to be a better person: aim me at the bad guys (and ignore that I am one)

Uh, well, it's the personality and backstory bit that isn't done! But initially I was like, "hm, do I know any military gun ladies" and off the top of my head, TECHNICALLY yes, but it's been so long since I watched/read FMA that I don't really remember much/anything specific about Hawkeye 😭 sorry girl.

She's got the whole, like, no nonsense thing going on, yeah, BUT she is DEFINITELY not out here making sacrifices for anyone and she doesn't particularly care much about whether or not the group's vision is actually carried out (dismantling the government by destroying its means of enforcement.) She doesn't really believe it CAN be done, or that it necessarily SHOULD be done. She doesn't have faith that a new start will change anything, because bad people exist. She's literally right there. Bad people exist. BUT she more than anything else needs (1) a sense of purpose and (2) someone giving orders for her to follow. Being part of the group provides her that, but also: above anything else, she is preoccupied with power.

Killing feels powerful. Destruction feels powerful. And she has no issues with doing these things, no sense of "this is wrong," and will do these things for no reason when bored or otherwise tempted. But simultaneously she recognizes these things are "bad," or harmful to the general public, and having someone holding her leash keeps her in check (lowers the amount of Bad in the world.) She could have stayed in the military (because a currently ranking officer has more power than a defector,) but who better to hold the other end of that leash than a guy who doesn't blindly follow SOMEONE ELSE'S orders? A guy who gave up his own official power to be "good?" She's second to the top, but not AT the top, which is where she likes it, and generally she's directed somewhere that's preferable to where she'd direct herself.

She's actually MAD at Samuel when he eventually meets back up with the group (they were all presumed dead to each other, because they are all "officially" dead, as per the government) for taking so long to (1) bust out of human experiment prison (weak) (2) recover (are you slipping, your job is being beat up) and (3) get back to them (even if it is entirely by accident,) because as second in command SHE was in charge and everything kinda was fine but also a lot of the time just went to hell. Everything sucked, the team sucked, the team was unhappy, she was unhappy. Leading is HIS JOB and unless he's defecting AGAIN he'd better start DOING IT. (She was enraged when he suggested she carry on leading, even if he only did it because he was battered and exhausted and Samuel is a man that wants to lay down and die somewhere but who the hell else is gonna do the work? Also Mags would bring him back to kill him again.)

She's very strict with hierarchy and roles because it makes her feel better for everything to be cut and clear. Self aware and mad about it. Absolute hardass. DOES shoot first ask questions later anyway (it's not as huge a problem as it used to be.) Doesn't believe in the Vision, but does believe in the group feeling Fine and Okay because that's HER group and how dare you make them be anything else (<- source of her anger at Samuel being gone, because her being in charge made them all miserable.) Perceptive of other people's emotional state but not an emotional person. Her hobbies include following orders and insulting people. She's convinced she's doomed to die horribly when her actions all catch up with her in some Karmic explosion but keeps doing bad shit anyway because who's gonna stop her? Woman who doesn't much care what's going on in the world or her own life as long as she gets to shoot people about it. Absolutely incoherent answer but I'm blaming the fact that she's not done baking yet

[yeuphoric]

╰   * OPEN TO ALL ( platonic, familial, and romantic connections welcome but romantic connections will be female only ). our muses were part of a group on a private jet that crashed in the wilderness y*llowjackets style & they've been out there a couple weeks / months now but things are starting to get spooky. DO NOT LIKE THIS STARTER .

sat still on the porch, blue eyes strain against the sea of darkness that spills out beyond the cabin, the flickering candle in hand doing little to aid him in his responsibilities. born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the favourite of his high society parents, some might say samuel has only ever been blessed with luck, but getting assigned guard duty the very same night one of their ilk claims to have spotted an unknown figure in the woods, he sure as shit doesn't feel very fortunate right now. as a chill runs down male's spine, head whips around, nearly jumping out of rickety chair when he spots someone positioned in front of the cabin door. “ fuck me ! ” he exhales, relieved that his vision has adjusted quick enough to recognise the other that has joined him. “ how long have you been stood there ? ”

[readceran]

me being a guy multiple ocs/self insert adjacent guys in the same universe is so funny but im having sm fun....