#scalpels and paintbrushes

[nozomi-akamivt]

Scalpels and Paintbrushes || Chishiya Shuntarô x Reader

- read ‘til the end for notes -

When a freelance artist travels to Japan to rekindle her passion for art and her life, she finds herself in a whole other predicament. Dangerous games, dangerous people, a dangerous world with dangerous rules. She’s alone, fending for herself, until she meets a disoriented medical student that will bring her comfort but might bring more difficulties and heartbreak aswell.

TW: gore, Niragi being Niragi

Chapter 7: I am not a Woman I'm a God

The first two weeks of being alone without Chishiya were the worse, I felt disoriented, like I was a ship lost in a turbulent sea without an anchor to keep me in place. I lost an arm and it also felt like I had lost a friend, or more than that... a lover.

I didn't know what we were, everyday, I wrapped my wound and felt the stump left instead of my arm, wanting it to be him helping me lick my wounds. Everyday I fall asleep with my walkie talkie clutched tight in my arms. I was waiting for him, because he was the only one I had left. And unlike Hide or Yumeko, he wasn't dead, I didn't kill him, he was fine....was he? Is he? I still have no news and I am starting to lose my mind. I try to be positive, to tell myself he'll call but then another week passes. Two more games are completed. They are harder when you only have one arm left.

"I should get in better shape, I'm back at letting myself die at this point."

Looking in the mirror I see that the chub that used to be around my hips and waist, and the one around my legs and right arm are gone. My face is looking thinner and my clavicles start to show. It has been hard taking care of myself while lacking an arm and someone to help me in this disorienting situation. I still needed to find ways to make everything easier for myself.

"I need to eat more, and I definitely need to do something about this nest of hair."

"Seriously, I need to put on some muscles, I won't be able to help anyone out if I'm a dead woman standing. C'mon (y/n) he'll call when he can, when he's ready. He said he needed time, and so you will need some too, not thinking about him, but getting better for others and him to see that you are here, alive and well and ready to help."

Because that was my vow to Hide and Yumeko. That I'll help others in this shitshow of a world.

And with a sigh I cover up the mirror and prepare myself to go get the traps I set outside for wild rabbits, hoping for a good catch. Hunting by setting traps was by far the easiest way to get food for me, as I couldnt hunt with only one arm, or at least not yet, I'd adapt sooner or later I hope.

Fortunately, three rabbits were caught in my net. Enough to last me two days, and as I could make broth out of the bones they would last me even more.

That was how my life was since Chishiya left. One armed lass against the cruel world of the borderlands, waiting for her beau to call. Playing games when absolutely needed and hoping they didn't require two arms or else she'd be royally fucked.

And then three weeks turned into four, then five, six, seven, two months, then three, then four.

And as I lost hope of ever seeing him again, whether it be because he died or ghosted me, which would be the same in essence, I decided to take it upon myself to get stronger.

So one might expect a training montage while I say this and honestly it might be better but the reality is more cruel unfortunately.

It started after the one month mark:

In the mornings I'd wake up and run until my legs and lungs gave out, having two arms to catch yourself is easily taken for granted in situations like this one and I most often than not face planted.

Nose bloodied I made my way to the traps, some days luckier and more bountiful than others.

More often than not I'd go to games whenever I could in the evenings, they'd keep my mind sharp and would force me to adapt to my new disability. And as monstrous as it sounds, you easily get adapted to the sight of brain matter and organs on the floor and walls.

My stump hurt like crazy still, it also itched under the bandages. And more often than not, I woke up with the phantom pains, feeling as if my arm got ripped from me, again and again.

I could rarely fall asleep, so I went to take Chishiya's old blouse and used it to cuddle as i curled on myself during the hard nighs, which were most of them.

After the two months mark I got better:

My legs and lungs had a harder time giving out so I ran further and faster until they did.

I also barely managed to cut my hair at this point, it was down to the middle of my back and looked just about ready to be a rat king. So with gardening scissors, a lot of shaking and a lot of patience I managed to look like a little boy who cut his hair with daddy's ball trimmer. It was bad, but more breathable, easier to take care of, and I mean who doesn't like a short haired, one armed wonder?

I didn't but you get used to it when it's all you can have.

I also started hunting bigger catches, like wild boar. And to do so I had to learn by myself, with the help of books I found in the mall book store. My japanese, having gotten much better in the bast two months, helped me enough that I could decypher how to observe and analyse the tell tale signs of the presence of boars. Bite marks on the trees, shape of frictions on the ground, hoof marks...

And that also meant I had to learn how to make spears. You never know how much more useful can your legs get until you use them as a second arm to hold wood down as you sharpen it. And they are definitely of use when trapping a boar down as you pin the beast with all your weight and deliver the killing blow.

That also meant my right arm got much stronger, I mean to compensate for my lacking left one, I had to make it better than it was. So, remembering Yumeko's self defence lessons I started to use them on real people in games.

To train of course.

.

.

.

But also because those people really need to get a grip. The lack of physically present autorities and the permission to commit atrocities really get to some people and they need to get their brains out of their asses before they get got.

Of course if assholes died it isn't much of my fault, I mean I do warn them. But do I go out of my way to save a guy that just groped a middle school girl? Nah. Fuck that. I much prefer saving the pregnant woman from getting killed by a masked kitsune.

And the third month I started to see:

My stump had healed almost fully by this point, it was itchy yes, the phantom pains were killing me, also yes. But there were almost no signs of fresh flesh or almost no risk of infections. That was one less worry to have? But to give me more balance I put a belt around it and gave it some weight, it would help me be better and faster on my feet without fearing that I'll fall every second that I live.

The walkie talkie was loud with silence, it teased me, laughed in my face at my abandonment so I hid it in Yumeko's stuff. And speaking of Yumeko and Hide, I organized their stuff in boxes, but not without crying at the memories and reiterating my vow to them.

I swore once more to them that I'd live once more, but also that as much as I'll help the ones around me I won't trust anyone to be close again. Not if it ends up with death, not if it ends up with them leaving

I left the idea of Chishiya contacting me again, maybe he did die, maybe he really did just leave, or maybe he broke or lost his walkie talkie. But I have to forget him, as good as it was he isn't here anymore so I have to learn to be by myself.

And that had to be the hardest thing.

"Goodbye Shuntarô."

I say as I close the box containing his scrubs, ID and white vest.

And until the summer I thrived:

After the third and fourth months I felt it, how I hardened mentally. The loneliness didn't feel quite as gruelling, the sound of silence not as mean. The pain in my stump stopped and other than my flashes of phantom pain I was, almost back to normal, as normal as I could be lacking a limb.

During a game in Harajuku I also found much better clothes than what I had. And I decided to treat myself, a trench coat, similar to the one from the Kuchisake-Onna game that felt was years ago. But also better, stronger and more comfortable combat boots. The rest was easy enough to find as Harajuku is the fashion district of Tokyo. But looking in the mirror, it was a different me than the one I was when I first came to Japan.

"It pains me to say it, but this batshit insane game really did give me my spark back. Just not in the way I had hoped."

But a win is a win, and I was not about to refuse something alright happening to me.

Hunting was bountiful, once every four to five days I could catch a boar and on the daily would be fish, some rabbit too. I also started to grow chillies, soy, sorghum and wheat as they were easy to conserve and create durable meals out of.

As time passed I saw some sort of faction make itself more and more known, people dressed in bikinis and other swimsuits rolling around in old cars with guns and a strong smell of weed following them. They were loud and participated in a few games with me, seeming more excitable and deranged than the average game player around.

So, I kept an eye on them, danger is common around here but they were trouble.

"Why are you looking at those people like that?"

I turn around to see a tall lanky girl with dreadlocks looking at me curiously.

"It's fine, they just seem way too excited to be here."

"I hear you. I'm Kuina, nice to meet you."

"You're part of their org aren't you Kuina-san?"

"Oh please don't be so formal with me. And yeah, I am. Is that a problem?"

She asks looking a tad bit nervous.

"As long as you don't cause any problem, no. But if your friends do don't expect me to go easy on them."

"You didn't tell me your name?"

"It's (y/n). You've been with them for long?"

"Nah, only a month or so? I had a good card they wanted so they brought me to their boss and boom."

She shows her wrist, showing a locker key bracelet with a number on it.

So, it seems this org was looking for cards, did they want to have every number from every suit? Why would that be?

Could it be their answer to being out here, could it be a way out?

It would be stupid, but maybe not impossible.

All of a sudden a chime is heard.

"Game, Eight of Spades: The Cage. You will have weapons at your disposition and the group will be separated in four smaller player groups, each fighting in one of the four arenas until only one is left alive. The four players left will be granted their visas. Good luck!"

Damn, my fucking arm. I'm fucked, but I need to try.

On the four tables are an array of simple short range weapons, american fists, many types of knives, boxing gloves reinforced with metal, batons, tonfas, bo, kendo swords. All in all, they'd be better for abled people.

All except for one. A long and strudy steel chain whip with its blades looking ready to shred flesh.

I close my hand in a fist, trying to calm my shudders, and take the whip. It was heavy but not too much, the lack of material made it lighter than a two handed sword but the length made it harder to manipulate than a butcher knife. They will do, they have to. and all of a sudden it glows teal, displaying my name on the pommel.

"Players, please separate in even numbers to form the groups"

Kuina and five other people are sent to one side of the room to an arena as she nods good luck to me and I to her. A bald and tattoed man, feeling similar to a snake somehow, lead his group to another arena. A long black haired man with a monochrome patterned shirt and a sadistic smile lead his to the penultimate arena. And I was left walking with my own group to the last one.

Here we were given earphones.

"Welcome to arena four. The rules are simple, the matches are one to one and end only when one of you is dead. The winners will fight each other again one to one until two are left, the winner of this last fight will recieve their visas and be granted the right to keep their weapon. Good luck."

Some look anxious and others look extatic, as for the latter one of them approaches me and grabs me by the stump.

"I'll take you, it'll be an easy win for an easy woman."

"Of course you go for the disabled one, trying to compensate for something big boy?"

The people around us laugh.

"Cause if so c'mere, mommy will put you to sleep so you can think on it. Unless I bashed your brains in enough that I destroyed your last braincells."

I get in the arena and motion for him to come teasingly.

"(y/l/n) (y/n) against Yoshitsuke Kunizaku"

And Kunizaku doesn't waste time, coming at me full speed with his machete. So I drop to the ground and kick his feet from under him, his momentum making him fall harder than he would've normally.

He is like a boar.

He attacks again and again, brashly but with a strength to worry about. So just like a boar I slowly turn around him, I make him lose his breath with unnecessary chases.

He nicks me on the face, under the breasts, on the arm, on the leg. But he breathes herder, and as I evade him I swing my whip, and I cut and lacerate his legs.

And so they give up on him.

And he is left writhing, clawing his way to his machete and when he does he blindly cuts as he tries to get back to his feet.

"You see the sad thing about a bladed whip is that I can't kill you at once, so don't make it harder for yourself little boar."

The whip is lashed at the man, and the arm holding his weapon is cut again and again until only bone and mangled flesh are left. And as he bleeds and screams I swing the whip again and again and again. My rage, my stress, and the pain felt during the past months possessing my senses as I finish by wrapping the whip around his head and cutting it clean off.

.

.

.

"(y/l/n) (y/n) wins"

And I pant as I get off the arena, people looking at me while I pant and wake up from my haze. The rest of the fights are a blur until mine.

She was fast and slippery like a fish. She hit with small cuts, nothing impairing but definitely would make you lose enough blood on the long run so that she could win.

So instead of playing around like with the boar, I take her by her hair and kick her to the ground, then make her a belt out of my whip. I try to shut my brain off as I saw her in half and she screams in agony.

What am I doing with myself. That I what I ask to the inner me who laughs and just say one word that rises bile in my mouth.

"Survive"

Yeah, right, survive.

"(y/l/n) (y/n) wins"

My last oponent is a very tall man, probably ex military. He looks, blank. And I would be scared of him, if I wasn't already of myself. This game was only one of the many after the Eight of Hearts in which I had to kill someone....multiple someones. And I was doing it flawlessly. As I did last time and the time before. And the fact that I didn't feel much while doing it was disgusting me.

But that's how the borderlands are. They change you, and it's never for the best.

"(y/l/n) (y/n) against Hikaru Kazushi"

He waits for me to attack first. He is patient, almost catatonic. It's a game of who will crack first and give the upper hand to the adversary.

So I slowly approach, wating to tease, to tempt him to attack first but he doesn't. So I turn around and prepare my whip, acting as if I was preparing an attack.

And he beats me to it.

Hitting the back of my head with his american fists. He turns me around expertedly and hits just about everything he can.

My eyes start to fade to black.

I need to find an opening

But where?

WHERE?!

I don't want to die, not yet, I need to repent, I need to uphold my promise

I NEED TO LIVE

"Found it."

He was using his left arm more, flinching when using his right. When I heard him move, he limped and seeing as he ended with his right leg he limped from the left.

So as he winds his right arm to hit my face I turn at the last moment, trapping it between my stump and my ribcage in my armpit. I kick his crotch a few times to destabilize him and turn us so I would be on top of him, his arm still in my grasp. And I wind my legs around his left leg and squeeze, hearing a pained yell from him and a crack from the leg. I then take care of the right arm and hit his elbow, hitting it so that it breaks and then bending the limb to an unnatural angle, the arm almost completely cut in two.

"See, now we're twinsies!"

I say as I agitate my stump in his horrified face and then use what is left of my left arm to cut his hair flow. With my right arm I grab my discarded weapon and bring it to the throat of the bleeding man beneath me and slit his throat.

As he gargles with his blood chimes are resonating all around the building.

"Takatora Samura, Suguru Niragi, Hikari Kuina and (y/l/n) (y/n) congratulations!"

I get up and as I do I try not to look beneath me as I fear I will vomit. And I stay here for a while, standing up without moving. My breaths short and rapid, body covered in blood, short hair sticking to me like glue with my sweat and blood.

"Damn woman, that was hot. Do you wanna do the same but in my bed, I'd love for you to draw my blood and use me as a fucking punching ball as I fuck you into my mattress and cut you open."

wha- What the fuck?

"What the hell Niragi, don't you know how to talk to a woman?!"

"As if YOU were a woman Kuina. Plus she isn't just a woman, she's a fucking war machine! A blood Goddess!"

I turn to see that Kuina was arguing with the man that flirted with me...? The psycho himself was the monochrome patterned shirt wearing man from group three.

"Blood Goddess? I'm flattered but refrain from talking to me like that or I'll castrate you kiddo."

The tattoed dobby wannabe snickered at that and full on laughed when Niragi glared at him.

"We've seen you around sexy, you've made quite the impression. Everyone at The Beach knows about you one way or the other, you've killed many of us and always seem to observe. We'd like to recruit you, we're sure you got some good cards, plus we could have some fun you and I. One on one, or if you want more I could always call more friends, fill you up real good with all of us until you're round and satisfied."

I visibly cringe at this, I've seen him around too. Always laughing, always smiling, always with his gun and always sadistic and horrendous towards others if he isn't already gutting them open.

"Listen I get what your org is trying to do and I'm fine on my own, why should I get in?"

"Why not, we have electricity, we have pleanty of food, booze, drugs, anyone you could ever want to have sex with. We have comfortable beds and a shelter that is assured against any type of exterior attack from greedy newbies or other factions."

"Yeah! And (y/n) I could really use a lady friend, shit is pretty much boring for me female wise there, they all act the same and you seem cool! Wouldn't you like a friend?"

"Not really no, you know what happens to people around here, I'm not losing someone else around here Kuina."

She nods, knowing the feeling. And then her head shoots back up with her eyes sparkling. And she starts to talk as we get out of the building and towards their cars.

"Listen I know you don't want to come and I won't force you but if you have enough good cards you could very much become a member of the executive council, and then you'd get infos no one else has and influence!"

"And why why would I care?"

"From what I know you want to protect people right? With those you could very well be the guardian of our people here at The Beach. There will always be a purpose for you there, and you won't be alone!"

That had me interested. Loneliness, I had gotten adapted to it but it was certainly getting to me at times. There I could go to my room or disappear outside if I needed alone time.

I also would have a permanent job. Whether as a card collector or as a "guardian" as Kuina put. It would certainly give me a purpose other than waiting until I get a new game and visa.

And it would certainly beat the emptiness at home.

So I sighed and climbed in the car next to Kuina who beamed at me.

"Niragi, drive before I change my mind."

He snickers and answers with a playful "yes ma'am" as he speeds on the road.

It was quiet surprisingly, the night was black and it was cold enough to stay awake but it was also so comfortable. The wind was blowing on us. And I stood straight, holding the headrest of Last Boss (as I learned he prefers to be called) and let myself relax a bit. The blood caked on me was going to suck ass but I'm finally going to be able to have a bath. From what I've heard they even have a sauna.

"How the fuck do you guys have so much, are you in a hotel?"

"Sorta, yeah. We're in a holiday resort, so there's the hotel but also a shit load more."

"Damn. That's fun."

"Where did you live before?"

"Oh a store in a mall that old friends and I made into a cool living space. We recycled rain water, and lately I even grew my own food for some things. I hunted for my meat in the suburbs, mostly boar and rabbit but also fish. It was calm enough but I had to wack away a few assholes that tried to overrun the place."

Kuina then stands up holding Niragi's headrest to be with me.

"We also recycle rain water, we use the fuel from cars to fuel our generators to make electricity and the old cars are our means of travelling since electronics are not worth much in this world compared to analog."

"Yeah, I can see you guys are self sufficient if The Beach hasn't crumbled yet in the time it has been around, even with the large number you guys seem to be."

And as I finish talking I hear yells from afar, they get louder and louder as we get to the coast where a resort is situated.

They scream at us like the public yells in joy after a gladiator wins his fight against a feral animal, like a country welcoming their war heroes. And I look at Kuina, silently asking her if it was always this way, and by the way she laughs at my face, it seems to be the case.

And after the car was parked Kuina said goodbye to me and Niragi and Last Boss lead me to where I'd be introduced to the "executive council". Overall, I respect the organization of...well, the organization. And so we walked, up many stairs and down many corridors until we arrived at a large double door.

"So uh lady let me tell you, the boss is quit an egotistical asshole so try not to bite his head off, though I'd love to see it."

"Niragi, I'm not interested."

"Hey, but you might be some time!"

"Yeah, no. I like my men less psychotic and my women nicer. Open the door please? I'd rather get this done quickly and be able to shower."

"Sure baby, come to me anytime you want to-"

"Niragi."

And with that he knocked, calling upon the people inside who he contacted previously via walkie talkie, and opened the door with Last Boss. They allowed me to walk first and closed the door behind me.

"Come, come! Please sit! I am Hatter, the boss of this utopia that is The Beach!"

Yeah he's a hatter alright, a mad one for sure. Extravagant and loud but most importantly way too confident.

"And you, who are you sweetie? I gotta know who my future member is after all!"

"(y/n)."

"Not a talker are you?"

"Not really no, I'm efficient in my work, that's all you need to know."

"And that's fine! I love it when we have efficient players! What cards do you have darling?"

I reach into my backpack and pull a packet of a dozen or so cards and Hatter looks extatic. And as he looks excitedly through the cards that he snatched from me I look around the room. There is one man with glasses, he seems tense. A woman with sunglasses who seems to be impatient. A woman with short side bangs and long black hair who seems almost like she is pleased. A tall muscular man, probably ex military. And in the far back someone, in white...

In Hide's old clothes.

He looks at me, face lacking expressions but eyes showing surprise and maybe even fear.

The man that left.

The man who abandonned me.

The man I tried so hard not to think about anymore, not to love anymore.

Shuntarô Chishiya

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WELCOME BACK TO S&C EVERYBODY, I never forgot about this story I just had a rapidly declining mental and physical healthy I HAD to take a drastic time off of everything. Writing was the lesser concern so I appologize for continuing this story only nearly two years after last chapter. But due to my now stronger than ever mental fortitude, the new season of AiB and a multitude of projects that I have: I decided to come back and make it count. SO welcome to the new and bettered Arcanox tumblr which will in substance, be the my main hub of influence since it is where I have the most followers!

[1997thebracket]

Round 6 - FINALE

The winner takes all! Which piece of media deserves to be the Champion of 1997?

Revolutionary Girl Utena: If it cannot break its shell, the chick will die without ever being born. This sentiment, originally found in Hermann Hesse’s 1919 novel Demian, features during a repeated sequence in the 1997 anime Revolutionary Girl Utena. Hesse is far from the only reference to philosophical, surrealist, or heavily symbolic text in the show, which trades in visual metaphor and multi-layered subtext. Revolutionary Girl Utena follows the story of Utena Tenjou, a young orphan who aspires to princehood-- challenging or outright circumventing the place of gender in that aspiration-- and is entangled in a series of duels centered around a girl named Anthy Himemiya. Written by Kunihiko Ikuhara, Chiho Saito, and Yōji Enokido (known collectively as Be-Papas) and soundtracked by J.A. Seazer and Shinkichi Mitsumune, the show has an instantly recognizable style, combining lush fairytale visuals and French-inspired architecture with a choir that functions as a sort of Greek chorus to the internal worlds externalized in combat. Utena is a story about many things, arguably all things, taking a surgical scalpel to adolescence and using the flat of the blade as a paintbrush, leaving a deeply human, visceral work of art in its wake. It has been massively influential on feminist, queer & sapphic, and otherwise gender-deconstructive or gender-subversive modern media. Smash the world's shell! For the revolution of the world!

Radiohead's OK Computer: I go forwards, you go backwards, and somewhere we will meet. By the middle of the decade, Radiohead was weary of the ubiquity of their 1993 hit Creep; although the record that followed it (The Bends) was a lusher, more evolved album than their first, it had failed to produce a distinctive enough image for the band to undo what Creep had done. The song threatened to define the band entirely to those outside their devoted following. In 1997 the band swung for the fences with the haunting, abstract OK Computer. It was a move their label cast immense doubt on at the time, and its success then and now would cement Thom Yorke and his bandmates as soothsayers of a sort, draped not in bohemian silk robes but in white hospital sheets. It's an album that speaks to the future with dread more than wonder, that critics described as "nervous almost to the point of neurosis," but marries the uneasy experimental soundscapes with poetic, surrealist, and increasingly prophetic songwriting regarding the parallel lives we lead with technology. Featuring the singles Karma Police, Paranoid Android and No Surprises, OK Computer is hailed by many as the band's magnum opus: it's certified double Platinum in the US and five-times Platinum in the UK, and in 2014 it was included in the United States National Recording Registry as "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant."

[les8ean]

art by @regal-bones - original post for above gif - Posted with permission

The Dimensional Pocket Knife

Need a screwdriver? a pen? Maybe a crowbar to open that locked chest? Say no more, the Dimensional Pocket Knife has all you need and more!  ...Well, most of the time.

The Dimensional Pocket Knife starts with 5 charges, and at the end of each day restores 1D4 +1 charges (to a max of 5). Upon use, a player can try to pull a tool of their choice from the pocket knife. They must roll a WIS saving throw, against the DPK's DC of 13. On a successful roll, the player draws the tool they desire. On a failure, the player instead rolls a D100, and draws the corresponding tool from the below list. (NOTE: the DPK works using the rules of Hammerspace, and so can draw tools much bigger than itself from it’s body, e.g, a spear, a crowbar, etc. The DPK itself is the size of a standard pocket knife)

Downloadable version of the below table

1 - Whatever tool the player desires, but a mimic 2 - Ladle 3 - Lockpick 4 - Telescope 5 - Knife 6 - Fork 7 - Spoon 8 - Scissors 9 - Crowbar 10 - Toothbrush 11 - Hairbrush 12 - Ink Pen (ink not included) 13 - Ink Pen (ink included) 14 - Wrench 15 - Hammer 16 - Flute 17 - Handsaw 18 - Pliers 19 - Chisel 20 - Ruler 21 - Trowel 22 - Shovel 23 - Allen Key 24 - Screwdriver - (Head type is randomly chosen by DM) 25 - Wire Cutters 26 - Paintbrush 27 - Toothpick 28 - Hatchet 29 - Nail File 30 - Lighter 31 - Hand Drill 32 - Salt Shaker 33 - Pepper Shaker 34 - Umbrella 35 - Whip 36 - Tuning Fork 37 - Baton 38 - Tree Branch 39 - Spatula 40 - Frying Pan 41 - Can Opener 42 - Bottle Opener 43 - Key - (roll a d10, on a nat10, the key opens the door it is inserted into. On a nat1, the key becomes jammed, and must be forcefully removed from the DPK. In this event, the key cannot be rolled again (i.e, cannot be drawn from the DPK). On any other roll, the key fails to open the door.) 44 - Handfan 45 - Longsword 46 - Dagger 47 - Bell 48 - Grappling Hook 49 - Magnifying Glass 50 - Pickaxe 51 - Fishing Rod (Bait not included) 52 - Whistle 53 - Broom 54 - Mop 55 - Tankard 56 - Bubble Wand 57 - White Flag 58 - Compass 59 - Mirror 60 - Teapot Spout - (The spout pours a random liquid of the DMs choice) 61 - Razor 62 - Whisk 63 - Bouquet of Flowers 64 - Bouquet of Dead Flowers 65 - Walking Cane 66 - 25ft of Rope 67 - Leash and Collar 68 - Binoculars 69 - Tentacle - (Tentacle moves of it's own accord, and does not respond to commands. It is neither hostile nor cooperative.) 70 - Feather Duster 71 - Wax Seal - (Seal is an emblem of the DMs choice (family crest, city flag, etc)) 72 - Extending Grabber - (Has a max reach of 1D10ft) 73 - Sickle 74 - Rapier 75 - Slingshot 76 - Tweezers 77 - Adze 78 - Drawing Compass 79 - Awl 80 - Metal File 81 - Mallet 82 - Hole Punch 83 - Sextant 84 - Calipers 85 - Whetstone - 86 - Tongs 87 - Gouge 88 - 2ft of Colourful Ribbon 89 - Icecream Scoop 90 - Meat Skewer 91 - Thermometer 92 - Small Sundial 93 - Fly Swatter 94 - Smoking Pipe 95 - Scalpel 96 - Spear 97 - Crab Claw - (Crab Claw moves of it's own accord, and does not respond to commands. It is neither hostile nor cooperative.) 98 - Vegetable Peeler 99 - Pinwheel 100 - Butchers Knife

[ramzawrites]

Dream World - A Sibling!Mutant!Reader Story - Part 4

GEN

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 | Part 5

Pairings: None

Characters included: Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, Raphael

Warnings: n/a

Series: Yes, this is part 4

Summary: Y/N wakes up again and luckily Mikey is there to finally save them from the boredom of the infirmary, giving them a chance to investigate their own room.

Word count: 4498

Authors Note: It’s family bonding time haha, no I didn’t write this while procrastinating work

When Y/N woke up this time they didn’t even question the at this point familiar backdrop of cement. What they were surprised by, was the green blanket that laid across them and the muffled conversation outside the room.

They slowly moved their legs off the edge of the stretcher, pulling the blanket closer around their shoulder as they strained their ears to catch what might be going on outside of the infirmary.

“-freaked out because of their body!”

Something told them that the conversation was about them.

“It’s just a hypothesis but if I’m correct then we have something to work off of!”

“What if it’s too much? What if it does more damage!”

“Leo, that there is basically a different person in the body of our sibling but if I’m correct they are still in there! We just have to… coax them out.”

“Not like this though! Donnie, I literally had to sedate them last time!”

“We don’t have anything else to go off of though!”

“You said it yourself it’s just a hypothesis. What if you are wrong and we will just make it worse?”

“Well, do you have a better idea?”

“…No. Let me think about it, okay? Just… let me think on it.”

Those two voices definitely belonged to Donnie and Leo, obviously discussing Y/N’s condition. They had to wince at how serious their tones were. Somehow, they couldn’t help themself to think that this didn’t fit them. Much preferring their light heartedness from before.

Seeing how their voice slowly became quieter until they couldn’t hear them anymore, Y/N assumed that they walked away from the door. This surprised them a little bit assuming that they stood there to begin with to maybe check up on them. Then again maybe they did already check up on them and were already in the process of walking away.

Feeling a bit restless Y/N began swinging their legs softly around. Taking a good look at how their new legs and feet moved around in their vision.

Taking a deep breath in Y/N slowly lowered one of their feet onto the cold ground. The second foot joined the other as they sat at the very edge of the stretcher. With another shaky breath they finally pushed themself off, balancing their full weight on their new legs.

As they figured beforehand, their body didn’t have any trouble keeping them up. Which made sense in a way, especially after seeing how the other turtles had no problem moving around. There were just a few moments where it was still difficult to wrap their mind around everything.

Carefully Y/N took one step. Watching how their feet moved and reacted as they slowly took a step after step. The green blanket was at this point draped over their shoulders and back, or rather their shell. It was weird knowing that there was a shell on their back. They could feel the soft blanket on their shell, keeping it warm. Even though it was a new addition to their body, it didn’t feel… different. Same thing with the plastron on their chest and stomach. It was just normal.

Y/N was now standing in front of the counter. It looked weird how there was just food standing next to various kinds of medical equipment. There were clamps, gauzes, scissors and even scalpels stored away in see through boxes. Once again though Y/N’s attention was drawn to the random little paintbrush.

They took it inside their hand. Running the bristles along their palms. It was soft. A few speckles of different colors were on the handle of the brush. Some pink, orange, red, green, purple or blue. Yet it still looked like someone took care to properly clean the bristles.

“Oh, nice! You’re awake!”

Y/N whirled around, spotting Mikey standing in front of them. Now that Y/N was standing upright they could tell that they themself were taller than him. Only by a few inches though. The orange spots on his body were almost as bright as the smile that he was giving them.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I just…” They placed the brush back down, feeling like they have been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Mikey didn’t seem to care though “That’s my brush. Normally you would be annoyed that I left that here.”

“I would?”

His smile faltered for a moment only to return into full swing “Yeah but that’s not important right now. I just saw some movement through the door and wanted to check up on you. See if you need anything.”

“Just woke up a second ago… Um, I couldn’t help but overhear Donnie and Leo fighting.” They didn’t know where exactly they wanted to go with this conversation. On one hand they felt a tiny bit guilty that the two were arguing because of them but on the other hand it sounded like they might have an idea what is going on.

Yet when they stopped themself to actually think about how to approach this subject, they saw how Mikey’s eyebrow ridge was pulled down. Oh yikes, he looked annoyed.

“I’m sorry that the two idiots woke you up.” He grumbled as he crossed his arms in front of his plastron.

It was funny, the way he looked disappointedly and angrily at the door, they could swear that Mikey was the older brother who was annoyed with his younger brothers’ antics.

“It’s fine. I did enough sleeping anyhow. I actually feel kind of restless.”

He eyed them as a response for a second “Honestly, I am glad to see you up and about. I was really worried about you last time I saw you, you were really pale. Well as pale as we can get, but if you are up how about a shower and then we can see what to do? Can’t have you die of boredom.”

Y/N nodded slowly “Yeah, a shower sounds nice.” They couldn’t help themself as a soft smirk appeared on their face “Are you saying, I smell?”

Mikey’s happy expression was exchanged with a pout “Aw, come on, Y/N! I’m trying to be nice and accommodating towards you while you are clearly going through it, and you tease me. I can’t fight back!”

Though as soon as his playful pout appeared, his smile returned. An earnest almost relieved smile “But can’t say I’m glad seeing you making jokes. You must be doing better than I thought.”

Yeah, they were inclined to agree. After the first shock of waking up in a new place, in a new body with new people wore off, they couldn’t help but almost feel comfortable. Y/N attributed it towards the fact that the people here had been trying their best to be actually nice. No matter how they tried to look for any bad signs, red flags, there was this small voice inside their head that told them that it was okay to trust them. That everything will be fine.

As they followed Mikey out of the room, they couldn’t help but grasp the blanket closer around their shoulders. Not sure what to expect when Mikey opened the infirmary door for them.

They were inside a tunnel that led into a huge open room. An atrium, maybe? There were skateboarding ramps. Graffiti all across the walls. More tunnels that presumably lead to different rooms. There were train tracks and a few subway cars parked. Honestly when the word lair popped inside their head to describe this place before, they didn’t think much about it. Now they had to think that this word fit this place rather well.

Mikey led Y/N past what they assumed must be the living room. There was a sofa. Beanbags, a couch and a ton of pillows. A projector on a small table. A few more subway cars were stationed here as well.

So, this was definitely an old subway system that probably led further into the sewer system.

There was a door that Mikey stopped in front of.

“Here we are. Take whatever you need, I’ll be just chilling over there where the projector was, so when you are done, we can think about what to do next. Take your time though!”

“Thanks, Mikey.”

And with this Y/N pushed the door open to a surprisingly clean looking bathroom. They weren’t really sure what they expected since this was in an old subway system, but they were glad, nonetheless. Seeing how Leo treated Donnie as the smartest of them all, they assumed this was his doing.

The bathroom had both a shower and a tub, but Y/N didn’t dare to fill a whole bath right now. A simple shower should be fine. Next to the sink, on a small cupboard, were a few differently colored towels placed. They couldn’t help but realize how colorful everything here was. Though seeing how they were mutants stuck in a sewer system only able to really go out at night, it did kind of make sense.

That said their mind was occupied with something else in the room. There was a mirror above the sink.

On one hand Y/N wanted to see what they really looked like now but on the other hand they were scared that inspecting themself like this would make it more real somehow. Yet before they could really think this problem through, their feet moved on their own. It seemed their curiosity won this fight.

They didn’t expect the weird emotions crashing down on them when they stood in front of the mirror. It was a mix of not recognizing the person, or mutant, in front of them but there was also this unmistakable thought of that this was indeed them.

Y/N couldn’t properly explain it even if they wanted to but maybe it was the form of their face. The way their eyes looked. The color of their eyes. This were things they recognized.

They let their blanket fall on the ground so they could take a proper look at their body. There was a dark green mutant with an almost black shell staring back at them. White small spots were littering their body and shell, while a light-yellow plastron covered the front. As they turned their body a bit, so they could take a better look at the shell, they couldn’t help but kind of think how the dark shell together with the white spots looked like stars in the night. Maybe if they connected the dots there would be some star constellations hidden.

It was a good sign to them that they weren’t freaking out in this moment. They did feel a bit queasy at all of this, but they didn’t feel a new panic attack sneaking up on them.

Maybe it did really help that even though their body changed they seemed to somewhat recognize their facial features. They couldn’t rightly place if this was weird, maybe even creepy or if they should somehow be glad about that.

But this also gave them the chance to see. Yep, no eyebrows. Now that they really thought about it how was it even possible that Donnie had eyebrows on his mask.

Finally, they tore their eyes off the reflection. Their concentration back on the task at hand. A shower.

It was a bit weird to just straight up step into the shower since they didn’t need to shed any clothing. But once they stood in the shower and warm water began raining down on them, they relaxed. They had to admit it was rather nice. Especially the way it pattered down on their shell.

And for a moment their mind was quiet. Just enjoying the peace.

That moment passed though as they grabbed for the soap. Lathering it up on their body. The smell was nice. Actually, as they took a tentative sniff at the soap, they realized that it was one of their favorite scents. Maybe this was Y/N Hamato’s doing? Maybe the two had indeed a few similarities. Or, more likely, it was a coincidence.

As they washed the suds off their arms and plastron they had to wonder. Should they try to wash their shell? Was it even possible? Was it necessary? They tried a little bit but gave up when they realized they couldn’t properly reach it anyhow. This should do for now.

Y/N turned off the warm water only to immediately miss said warmth. Not wasting any time, they grabbed a towel and dried themself off. Once they were satisfied, they hung up the towel and laid the blanket back across their shoulders.

They sighed satisfied. Indeed, feeling a bit refreshed after the shower.

A bit nervously they opened the door of the bathroom to step out back into the rest of the lair, immediately making their way towards the living space. It was really just around the corner, but they couldn’t help but be happy to not get lost.

Mikey was laying on the ground, reading a comic. Lazily turning to the next page.

Y/N stepped closer to look at the comic, but Mikey noticed their shadow suddenly. Shrieking in surprise, throwing the comic into the air.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N!” He said accusingly, staring at them with his hand on his chest “You scared me!”

“Sorry, Mikey.” A nervous chuckle following their apology. It was a bit funny.

He scrambled off the ground “I know we are all ninja and stuff, but I always forget how quiet you can be.”

“Seriously. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” They really didn’t. Mikey was probably just too concentrated on his comic to notice them.

“I feel like at least once a month you give me a heart attack.” He laughed lightly only to be met by Y/N’s confused expression.

“Right. Memory stuff. Anyway, I had the idea I’d show you your room! Probably more comfortable than the nasty infirmary.”

Somehow Y/N felt slightly offended at that. The infirmary wasn’t that bad, but a proper bed did sound better. Besides they were a bit curious to see how their supposed room looked like here.

“Lead the way.”

And that he did. Leading them away to one of the parked subway cars. Opening the door for them so Y/N would be the first to step in.

The first thing they noticed was how messy the room was. It wasn’t the kind of mess that made the place look nasty, but it actually somehow added to the comfy feel of the room.

There was a bed with a few teddy bears and fluffy big pillows. A ton of different kind of bits and pieces decorated the room. They were mostly action hero related. There were a few movie posters of movies they didn’t recognize.

Jupiter Jim and the Robo-Buggy Derby? Sounded… interesting.

Though there were also a few posters on the walls of Lou Jitzu and his movies. Their father if Y/N remembered correctly. It was kind of weird to think about that apparently a movie star was the father of five mutant turtles. But he was a mutant as well, wasn’t he?

But what really caught Y/N’s attention was that there were a ton of instruments in this room. A keyboard, a ukulele, a guitar, a recorder and a violin? So, Y/N Hamato loved music, huh.

Mikey bounced over towards the bed to sit down. He did it so naturally, Y/N assumed this was his go to spot in the room.

“So, this is your room. You can hang out here from now on. I mean it is your room.”

“That’s a lot of instruments.” Y/N spoke as they walked over to the keyboard. Lightly brushing their hands on the surface of it.

When they looked back towards Mikey, he gave them a big nod “Yep! The virtuoso of the family.”

Their gaze fell back on their hand that was still on top of the keyboard “That’s… How? Aren’t like most instruments made for people with, you know, ten fingers.”

Mikey shrugged at that “We all asked ourselves that as well! But I think you found your own way past that problem. Something something you don’t always need all ten fingers for a lot…I still think it is the magic of music that let you overcome this problem.”

Y/N let out an amused snort “Sure. I can get behind that.”

“Also, over there are your medical books.”

Y/N turned around with a speed they were sure they could have hurt themself with “Wait, what?”

Mikey’s finger was pointing towards their desk and indeed there were a number of thick books placed all over it. There was a laptop resting next to the books.

They immediately strode over to take a look at the books. Anatomy, Virology and the like. Damn, Y/N Hamato is smart, huh.

“That’s a lot.” They noted as they looked at all the different medical books.

“Didn’t the others tell you that you are the medic of the team?” Mikey sounded genuinely surprised.

Y/N shook their head “No. I assumed Leo filled that role since he was the one who gave me my pain meds and sedated me and stuff.” Not going to lie it still felt weird that they were sedated in the first place. They did tell Leo that it was okay, but they weren’t entirely sure how they felt about it. They weren’t mad. Maybe surprised was the correct word?

“If you are the chief doctor… surgeon… or whatever these are called then Leo would be your nurse, I guess. You taught him here and there for emergencies and because he was interested, which was good because when you got knocked out like that, he could at least take care of your wounds without making it worse.”

“Well, I know nothing about that. I’m just a poor old design student.”

Mikey snickered at that “Yeah, I heard. Donnie was really sad about that.”

“He was?”

He nodded “Yep. You and him were always Team Smart. He concentrates on machines and the like while you loved medicine and did research on our whole mutant situation. So, when he heard that the you now, with these new memories, was a design student he felt like he lost his only non dumb dumb sibling.” As he spoke, he made sure to make air quotes with his hands while saying the words “dumb dumb”.

Well, this might explain Donnie’s weird reaction when he first heard about their major. They couldn’t help but chuckle at this. There were usually a lot of different reactions when people found out about their major. This was a new one for sure.

Y/N slowly opened up a green notebook. It was littered with stickers of skateboards, pizza, turtles and there were four different colored hearts. A red, blue, purple and orange one. The notebook was kind of cute and obviously well loved. There were also a ton of notes sticking out of the side of it. Maybe even some loose papers.

They randomly skipped to a page deep inside the notebook.

These were medical notes. Specifically, about mutagen. Curious to see if they understood anything Y/N took a closer look.

There were sketches of chemical make ups of what they assumed must have been mutagen and their bonds. Notes with how to release these bonds. Honestly it surprised them that they understood that. The way the notes were written down Y/N thought they looked very much like how they would do theirs. Seemed like Y/N Hamato and them had that in common.

They whistled, impressed “Damn. The me you know is smart.”

“You would always say that you learning this all was more out of necessity that later turned into curiosity. It’s not being smart just being dedicated.” At the end he changed his posture and voice.

It took Y/N a second before they realized “Were you trying to imitate… me?”

Mikey grinned “Yeah and doing an amazing job of it!”

“Sure.” It was the first real laugh they let out without feeling somehow guilty or surprised by it. It was just easy to chat with Mikey.

Closing the notebook again Y/N moved over to sit next to Mikey on the bed. Okay, the bed was definitely more comfortable than the stretcher in the infirmary.

They took a look at one of the teddy bears. Smiling at the cute little bear. A few differently colored patched littered his body. Y/N placed it on their lap as their fingers traced along its synthetic fur. Somehow it felt like home.

“Raph gave you this one when we were all kids. He has a ton of these but this one was the one you would always grab whenever you had the chance. So, Raph just gifted you this one. See these stitches? You wouldn’t trust anyone else but Raph to repair him whenever a tear would appear.”

A smile made its way on Y/N’s face. That’s adorable. Their heart swelling at the thought of little kid them running up to their big brother to repair their teddy bear. Not able to help themself, Y/N gave the cute bear a quick little hug before placing it back on the bed against the wall.

Y/N eyes traveled over to Mikey. He was at this point playing with his own hands. His face scrunched together, almost as if he wanted to say something but tried his best to hold back.

“Something on your mind?” Y/N asked, their eyebrows raised in surprise.

Mikey stared at his hands “Oh, just… I don’t know… You have been out for two weeks and all and I would really love to give you a hug because, yay my sibling is awake but… yeah… your memory is all frazzled.” That was one way to describe their memory situation from his perspective.

He did seem like a person with a big heart that probably loved hugs and to him, he had to watch his sibling comatose for two weeks. Y/N had to admit, they felt sympathetic.

So, they just turned their body towards Mikey and opened their arms, similar how they would always do when they tried to cheer one of their younger sisters up. An open invitation that they could either take up on or not.

The way Mikey’s unsure expression turned into a big happy one before he threw himself into their arms, made Y/N’s heart swell. He held strongly on to Y/N, almost crushing their ribs in the process.

“I missed you.” His voice was muffled as he pressed his face into their shoulder.

Y/N just begun rubbing soothing patterns against his shell. Their older sibling instinct kicking in as they tried to console him. They wanted to say something as well but what could they possibly say? “I missed you too?” Of course not. Only even knowing of his existence for maybe a day or two. But they also couldn’t help to feel protective over him as he seemingly reminded them of their own younger sisters. They held on to him as well. After all of this shock and confusion it was kind of nice to get hugged like that.

Suddenly there were loud footsteps and the door to the room got pushed open. A frantic looking turtle mutant scanned the room only to spot Y/N and Mikey. Mikey was almost holding on to them like a little monkey would to a tree.

The tall mutant wore a red bandana and had a spiky shell. The last of the brothers. This must be Raphael.

He immediately relaxed when he spotted the two “Man, here you are. We got really worried when we didn’t spot you in the infirmary, Y/N.” He chuckled.

Mikey decided to let go of Y/N so he could give Raph his full attention “Something tells me you were the only one worried.”

Raph’s face immediately contorted into a grimace that just screamed that Mikey hit the nail on the head “What? No.” He coughed to look back “Found them! They are in their room!”

“See, Hermano! I told you they would still be at home! Don’t think they feel confident enough to go out of the lair.” Leo spoke from behind, peering into the room.

Y/N nodded towards Leo “Yeah. That.”

“I just thought it would be nice for them if they stayed in their actual room. You know, it’s comfier here. Also, they were bored.” Mikey explained.

Raph nodded, accepting his reasoning “True enough. You doing okay, Y/N?”

They immediately nodded “Oh, yeah! All good! Mikey told me a few things about myself and stuff.” Well, it wasn’t necessarily them but continuing to say “the me you know” was getting tiring and complicated.

“And that wasn’t too much?” Raph seemed like a bit of a worrywart, Y/N noted.

“No. It was nice. Though quite the shocker to learn that the I was actually smart. The way they wrote their notes though is very similar how I do it.” They weren’t really sure why they told him all that, but it ended with a smile on his face.

“I’m glad to hear that. If you are okay, maybe we could do a bit of a movie marathon? Since you are bored and all.”

“And it’s our favorite family activity!” Mikey exclaimed happily.

“I do like my movies… besides something tells me that you guys won’t be happy to hear that I can’t seem to remember the Lou Jitzu movies and … Jupiter Jim? You know, judging how there are posters of these movies all over the room.”

There were three gasps and one pronounced “Gasp!” Seems like Donnie was also standing behind Raph.

“No, this… our own sibling! Betrayal! The pain!” Leonardo exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest right where his heart is, letting himself flop forward. Raph reacted immediately, grabbing on to him so he wouldn’t smack right on to the floor.

Mikey held onto Y/N again, this time with glossy eyes “You don’t remember any Lou Jitzu or Jupiter Jim movies?!”

“The life you lived sounds like it sucked.” Donnie also exclaimed.

Wow, this hit them harder than Y/N expected.

“Just means you guys can see my first reaction to the movies… again? I guess? Kind of?” They tried to ease the minds of the other mutants.

“It’s emergency movie marathon time!” Raph exclaimed, immediately walking out of the room. Still holding on to Leo who was fake wailing. Donnie was close by as he followed his brothers.

These were sure some characters.

“Mikey, I can’t get up with you holding on to me like that.”

But he didn’t let go “You never saw any of these movies? For real?”

Y/N tentatively shook their head “As far as I know… these movies… don’t… exist… where… I’m… from…?”

Mikey’s hands clasped their face suddenly “This is the saddest thing I have ever heard.” His arms going back around their shoulders to keep holding on to them, as if they would fall apart if he didn’t.

This time Y/N patted his head and just said “There. There.”

[pissfizz]

my dear mutual do you have idea on what weapons to give the folks in my wep au? or if i should change them at all? i feel ai’s pen works fine for mizuki and the umbrella works fine for shizuku but idk about ena or kanade…do you have any suggestions im happy to hear it :D

Hmm… maybe some kind of art supply tool for ena? Like maybe a paintbrush or maybe a scalpel… and for kanade I kind of like the exacto blade idea but I don’t know… she’s really hard lol

[eunchancorner]

OMG, and picture how practice for the actual surgery scene would go

he’d practice his precision by tracing the marker lines with a feather or maybe a tiny paintbrush and pretending it’s a scalpel

and of course he needs to be SUPER careful and SUPER slow about it, which means that poor Kevin is SUPER screwed

Anon I am kissing you on the head rn oml

Kevin would be SO fucked when he realizes he's not only the drawing help for the scene, oh no

He's helping for the WHOLE scene

Cue Kevin being a giggly, squirmy mess while Streber slowly drags a feather or paintbrush over his spots and he just can't sit still which means they have to redo it over and over again

[baileytomkinsviscomblog]

Concept Collider - Pt. 3

This part of the concept collider project allowed us to experiment with some hand-drawn typography, using grids, tracing paper, scalpels, ink and brushes. Similar to the A5 pieces, we were given a list of words to choose from, the task being to try and represent the meaning of each word. Compared to having the use of imagery, representing emotions and concepts just with typography proved to be a very difficult task, especially with the time restrictions we had.

The first and my personal favourite approach I did with my group was the free-form experiments created with ink and paintbrushes, the reason it was my favourite is because of the creative freedom and allowing of expression that doesn't require any particular rules or borders, in addition to this, the experiments could be a lot more abstract, especially with the versatility of the ink.

I think my least favourite experiment was the tracing, this is because it was very time-consuming which meant that there wasn't as much time to conceptualise your ideas, resulting in very much surface-level, rushed and incomplete work. I felt like the results of these experiments were often very faint and inconsistent, especially when repetition was required, not to mention the fact that it was quite difficult to see exactly where your letters were being placed due to the tracing method.

The other two experiments which involved the letter-cutting were fairly interesting, but again it was difficult to really dive deep into the methods due to time constraints. Although restrictive, using the grids for typography helped my creative thinking by forcing me to utilise the very precise spaces I was working in. The splicing was interesting as it allowed me to really look at the space around the word and how you can utilise positioning within the page to create effective results, for example, I was pleased with the hiding effect I created with the word 'anxiety' by cutting it in half and placing it at the bottom of the paper as if it was peeking over the edge.

At the end of the session, everyone displayed their favourite experiments, this was an opportunity to look at all the interesting results people were able to achieve and also to observe their creative thinking processes.

Other people's work

Creating the zines

As a group, we shared with each other all of our favourite cut-out designs and typographic experiments, discussing which ones we would use for the zine. We made sure that the zine was balanced, with everyone having their work included. It was very interesting to see the creativity of others and how they were able to represent the different concepts that were given to us. Using the pre-made zine template, we spent a while organising our pieces, deciding where they would look the most effective and which pieces would go well together once they were overlapped through the riso printing process.

It was also interesting to learn a bit about riso printing and its history, as well as the kinds of looks that can be achieved with this method compared to standard printing. Unfortunately, we were told we wouldn't be able to see the final results for a while, so I haven't been able to include pictures of the finished zine.

[interactivemediaahh]

envelope and seal

Super sculpey is odd but I had to make a mould for a wax seal stamp. I had to reduce what I had made before with a pocketwatch and changed it to the tomb at Keston, which has a nice simple shape of a circle with three prongs made of stone.

I started by having a sculpey base to work on and then cut out the shape of the monument from another piece of sculpey in four sections: the circle and the three prongs. I then used a clay too to attach the pieces together to make the monument and then attached them to the base by dragging material down. I then smoothed out some edges and then added dents to the sections of the structure to show the decayed rock. the outside of the circle was then removed in preparation for the resin moulding.

The I made 2 envelopes using a combination of a pre-existing envelope and a large amount of measuring. I drew in all the fold lines of the envelope after measuring distances. I did come across an issue with how the measurements appeared as one box did not look right though it was correct. I then removed the outline using a scalpel and a cutting mat. I did this process twice, one with thin flimsy paper and once with thicker paper.

From here I folded the paper and used sand paper on the edges to make it appear worn and then applied coffee with a paintbrush to make it appear more aged. I then took some graphite dust from a pencil and rubbed it along the edges to make it look like soot. Once that had been done I then used my wax stamp on some wax on a test paper. after holding it in place while the wax dried, I removed the seal and the design came out alright. Needed a bit more wax but it had the print that I made so that cool.

[egginfroggin]

Don't ask me what my brain is doing, I don't know, but:

Borrower AU Moribito.

I love Moribito as it is, but, as may be expected due to my obsession with tiny things, my love for something can be multiplied if that thing is taken and shrunk to a minuscule size.

I'm imagining Balsa with some kind of needle -- maybe a knitting needle -- or maybe even a scalpel. And if she has a needle, maybe she has a little bobbin of thread it's tied to.

Chagum is very smol!

Maybe the Rarunga are the same sort of horrifying critter, or maybe they're a more normal crab, or something. Or, alternatively, some horrifying kind of eldrich worm (bobbin worms are terrifying critters, and now they're stuck with Rarunga in my mind for some reason).

But imagine, like, the extra stuff. Flying on a songbird. Errand runners specialize in keeping out of sight of human beans to carry messages and items to places in borrower settlements that sprawl throughout a house or street corner. Runners are small and nimble, even for borrowers, and know shortcuts that are hidden or dangerous even to other borrowers.

I really don't know what to do with this AU, but I just think that it sounds cute. Admittedly, one of my favorite parts of Borrower AUs is just repurposing things to suit the needs of tiny little critters. Thimble cups. Discarded toothbrushes used to scrub floors and such. Broad, round paintbrushes being used as tiny brooms. Stuff like that.

I dunno, if anyone has an idea for an actual plot for this, go absolutely ham with it, the most I'll likely ever do is doodles. Enjoy it if you like it! Go nuts!

[nozomi-akamivt]

Scalpels and Paintbrushes || Chishiya Shuntarô x Reader

- read ‘til the end for notes -

When a freelance artist travels to Japan to rekindle her passion for art and her life, she finds herself in a whole other predicament. Dangerous games, dangerous people, a dangerous world with dangerous rules. She’s alone, fending for herself, until she meets a disoriented medical student that will bring her comfort but might bring more difficulties and heartbreak aswell.

Chapter 9: Fleeting moments

And with this Kuina came back and fake smiles were exchanged, I went to serve myself food and we talked, small talk, just like strangers would.

After that the rest of the day was a blur. I went to my room and cryied harder than I had in months. Of course he had to come back when I was finally fine without him. It's always what happens, old habits die hard and old demons are not easy to kill.

So to the bar it was.

The walk there was okay, I bumped into couples shoving their tongues in each other's throats and militants acting tough. But once arrived in the bar the noise was almost too much to handle. I had to get what I wanted to get and quick.

"Hey, do you have two bottles of...you know what I'm too tired to give a fuck. Give me two bottles of whatever you have that's the strongest."

"I'm on it babe!"

And as soon as I blinked two bottles of absinthe were shoved on the counter.

"Have fun!"

Yeah. I don't know about this one. And I wave to the bartender as I leave the overcrowded bar and make my way into the building. Asking around here and there for directions on how to get to the rooftop I pass by the clothing room to get a vest to cover myself since the swimsuit barely did so.

"Oh, what are you?"

I feel something hard in the pocket of the cardigan, an iPod with its earphones intact? It was matte black and seemed in good condition. And as I clicked on the buttons it lit up.

It had battery.

"Did your previous owner have taste little one?"

And with that I continued to make my way up, absinthe bottles shoved in the deep pockets of the cardigan and clinking as my thighs pushed me up the stairs. My hand was occupied in scrolling as I listened through the downloads with one earphone in.

And once I arrived on the rooftop I sat on the edge, finally finding a song peaceful enough to fit what I wanted.

"Not bad. I'd thank your owner if they were still here. Although I guess I am your owner now huh? Shit, what am I doing talking to myself. You've gone crazy Humpty Stumpty, that's it, Chishiya was the final blow to your poor ole mind."

Absinthe in hand, I put it between my thighs and unscrew the cap. The strong herbal scent of the liquor hitting me in the face, more and more when I bring the bottle to my lips.

"Well, here's to me and still being alive although I'm losing it. I hope you've got your drinks on too Hide, Yumeko. I miss you guys."

And with that I drank, swift and hefty swigs were taken from the bottle as the music in my ears calmed the ringing silence of loneliness and hid the atrocious noisiness of the partying downstairs.

It was crazy how the sky was beautiful since all industrial activity stopped, it was so clear, the air was so clean. But was it worth it if all we had left was hell on Earth?

"Doesn't it burn?"

"It does, but it doesn't mean it's bad."

"It isn't meant to be drank this way you know?"

"I know, it doesn't mean I can't. There's nothing we can't do around here, I don't know if it's such a good thing as everyone makes it to be though."

I give him the bottle. Him, the man in white, the familiar stranger, the old demon I welcome back in my nights. And he drinks. And no other words are uttered as we watch the world in silence.

First Month:

Days passed and Kuina was a great girl, but being around her meant being around Chishiya. But I stayed, I stayed because I didn't want her to be hurt. She could fend for herself but I guess I just couldn't leave her to be alone with him, just in case.

Niragi was still annoying, comming ever so often to hit on me and annoy Shuntarô as I learnt he loves to do.

"So baby, what are you doing tonight? Going for a game?"

"Yes."

"I've been nice to you, c'mon give me something. A sentence that is more than a word, I don't know!"

"You've been hitting on me. I don't want you. You're violent and bat shit insane, that ain't what I want to link myself with."

He rolls his eyes and his fingers twitch around his rifle as he approaches me, and I face him head on.

"You're as violent as I am."

"Not by choice."

"But you could be, let yourself go!"

"Why would I want to, then I'd be nothing more than an animal."

"Did-"

"Did I say you were a wild feral beast? Yeah. You say that shit is human nature but don't you mean you stooped as low as becoming an unruly raging animal? Human nature is being intelligent enough to keep our instincts and unchecked desires out of society. By either taking control of them in a safe environment or erasing them."

And with that I go to the car where the rest of the people going to the same game as me are while he yells after me, finally reaching his boiling point. Once I arrived there, there is only one other person in the car. Shuntarô Chishiya.

"And thus Frankenstein's beast and her master are once again together."

Saying nothing I enter the driver's seat and start the engine, speeding towards our next game, a school

Once arrived there everything looked overrun by nature. It was growing much faster now that human intervention had ceased. And I slowly walked through thepath, admiring the great location and trying to put some distance between Chishiya and I.

Once arrived, we both take the phones given, validating our inscription to the game. Then a chime made itself known.

"Welcome Participents. Game: Eight of Clubs, Aka Manto. The players will all get to the toilets and enclose themselves in a cubicle, there they will have 5 minutes to make a choice. Once the choice has been made, people having chosen the same answer will be put into pairs within the same group. The pairs will be given a list of objects. The objective will be for these pairs to find these objects as fast as possible and stop Aka Manto's chase. The ones that cannot do so and are not already dead will suffer the consequences. You will have one hour."

"So they sai-"

"I understood Chishiya."

His eyebrows lift and I roll my eyes.

Aka Manto, we'd most likely be given the choice between red and blue toilet paper once in the cubicle, each color meaning a different death. Blue meaning suffocation until we become blue and red being stabbed until we are covered in our own blood. So once I entered mine I immediately picked red. Dying suffocating has got to be one of the worst things I could think of, and I'd rather be able to go against a stabbing maniac and have a chance of stealing their weapon.

"Teams are chosen. Red team go to the east wing, Blue team to the west wing. You have 10 minutes until start of the game."

"You've chosen red too?"

"I prefer reserving choking for the bedroom."

"Niragi would be elated."

I glare at him.

"Listen, I know you wanna piss me off but we really need to think of what to give to who and not be stupid in our decisions."

"We should team up."

"What did I say about NOT being stupid about our decisions?"

"We're both very intelligent. We'd get out quickly and easily. If you see people you want to help, go and help them, but together we'd have the most chances."

And with that I sigh. He was right, as much as I hated to admit it. So we paired up. Seeing our list I groaned out loud. We needed to find a daruma, two traditional japanese dolls, red thread, chalk, candles, salt and matches.

A purifying ritual.

"I fucking hate this already."

"You hate a lot of stuff."

"No shit Sherlock. Let's start already, chalk would be easy enough, in a class. Red thread and dolls...a sewing club?"

"Mh. Candles would maybe be in the teachers' lounge, or maybe if there's a drama club. And salt in the mess hall or kitchen."

"Matches and a daruma doll..some sort of janitor's closet?"

"Yeah it could fit. Where do they say the ritual has to be done?"

"Basement of course."

He hums and we get to work first would be the teachers' lounge, I lead the way since I was stronger physically. And we rounded corners after corners, hearing our panicked fellow red team pairs scambling about, until we attained the lounge and separated to check every cabinet present.

"Got them!"

I nodded back and we started to get going to our next location, the janitor's closet on the first floor where we could also get to both the mess hall and the kitchen. But all of a sudden the door opened and a tall figure in red holding a butcher knife entered and we were lucky enough to duck in time.

I signal Chishiya to not move as I look slightly over the table, they wore a mask that most likely impaired their vision but two people leaving would be impossible as it'd cause too much noise. So I duck back down and nod my head at the white haired male to continue to his left and get to the door, probably thinking I'd follow him he did.

"Hey asshole try and get a piece of that!"

And as I uttered those words Chishiya looked at me, almost too fast, and I motionned for him to run. I'd distract the Aka Manto, and he'd get what we need from downstairs. He begrudgingly followed my plan and I started running to the opposite side, if I couldn't outrun him, I'd outsmart him. And if I could do neither, I'd keep him at bay.

I turned corners, climbed stairs up and down yelled in the corridors so that other teams would know to run, but the damned bastard wouldn't leave me alone. So I hatched a plan, I'd go downstairs as planned but I'd kill the fucker. He'd die anyways if he lost the game, so how about I make it easier for him? And so with newfound vigor I sprint to the stairs, making it down the last flight and into the last corridor before the mess hall.

"(y/n)!"

"Chishiya run, now!"

He scrambled in the kitchen from where he was in the mess hall and I heard a loud bang of the doors opening and loud and fast thumps, Aka Manto was here.

"C'mere big guy! You want a fight? I'll give you one!"

I run to him and slide to my knees, kicking his legs from under him and he falls to the ground, groaning. As I roll back he catches my right leg and nicks it pretty bad with his meat cleaver, and as he was about to bring it down to strike again I kicked it our of his hands and quickly got to my feet. Not getting greedy in hitting the opponent I take the cleaver.

"Now we're talking."

Doors opened and two other teams came in, the Aka Manto, feeling disadvantaged tried to go to them first but I put myself in front muttering a "no you don't". The other pairs knew to run away from here fast as I held the cleaver up in front of me.

I'm gonna shish kabob that motherfucker.

He attacks first and he is fast and much heavier than me, I evade once, then twice but the third time he changes up his tactic and kicks my diaphragm. As I am proulsed backwards, my lungs cough up all the air I held. My hand still gripped the knife and it seemed to iritate the guy, he became more agressive, beating my face in thinking he could beat me to unconsciousness then kill me and get on with his day.

So I act as if I was going to punch him with my left hand and he diverts his attention enough for me to lift my arm and bring the cleaver down with enough force that I sliced through his clavicle.

The rest was fairly easy. I turned us around, using the momentum he had as he fell to his right. Once on top of him, I hit his neck enough times to behead the guy. Rolling on my back next to him, in a puddle of blood mind you, I take back my breath. The edges of my vision were black from the beating and I was losing blood but I'd be fine enough for another thirty minutes or so.

So I stood up and with staggered steps made my way to where Chishiya would be by now.

"You were fast, you got to the basement before I did you ass."

"And you look like you've gone to hell and back."

"I'm fine, you should see the other guy. D'you need help with anything?"

"Nah, go rest."

"Fuck off, do we do it in a circle or...?"

"Yeah, and wr-"

"wrap the red thread around and between the dolls tying them together. The salt is for purification purposes, red thread means fate, dolls are the world of the living and the Aka Manto, the candles are ritualistic in nature, the chalk is the border."

"Wow, you know your stuff. Did you read the thing?"

"How could I, I was flirting with death. Nah it's pretty basic spiritual knowledge and connecting the dots by this point."

And so we lit the red thread and our phones chimed, we were free.

"Good job."

"Yeah, you too."

And times and times again Chishiya would be in the same game team as I. So much so that I thought he did it on purpose. It would be totally counterproductive though, why spend months avoiding me to start and be close again? There was no way he'd apologise and reveal what he was hiding.

It didn't take a genius to see that his confession was made of half truths. There was something he didn't tell me, and maybe it was the reason he hovered around me, even in spade missions in which he'd be at a disadvantage.

But who was I to force anything out of him?

So I let it go.

"What are you thinking about? And don't say 'nothing' again or I swear I'll throw you out of the window."

"Just, getting lost in thoughts about the past."

"Yeah I know what your mean, but you do it a lot more when you come back from games with Chi- nOOOOO WAY."

"No Kuina, it's not love."

"Bu-"

"No, I know how he is. I don't want none of that with him anymore."

"What do you mean anymore? Did you have a crush on him? Were you together and you didn't tell me?"

"No to both."

"Were you not truly strangers when I introduced you two?"

"Touché."

"Wow I smell drama. Don't worry, I won't ask if you're worrying about that, but I did feel the tension between you guys. I just thought it was sexual!"

"Wha-"

Second month:

I got used to him lurking around, like some sort of weird guardian angel. Still annoyed me though.

"You know that I know you're here."

"I know that you know that I know."

"Stop being a smartass."

He chuckles and sits besides me. Evenings with him became, against my will, a routine. I'd go drink on the rooftop, occasionally with a cigarette or two, music in my ears and him in my shadow. It'd be silent for most part, my fight having mellowed out; he could fight back and he was Chishiya anyways, he's so stubborn I had become tired of fighting behind Kuina's back unless he truly got on my nerves.

"What are you listening to?"

"What? Why'd you want to know?"

"I'm bored."

"Tell me something new."

I give him the earbud I do not use and that is how the last of our conversation fizzles away as the playlist rolls through and the bottle of booze goes from me to him, from him to me, until no more amber liquid is left.

"It reminds me of our first night drinking together, back at the mall."

I hum.

"Didn't think you'd remember Shuntarô."

"Didn't think you'd want to talk about it."

"My fight is gone, I'm tired emotionally and physically, I don't care anymore Chishiya. I can't spend the rest of my days hating you this much. But I'll never forgive you that's for sure."

"I'm sorry."

"Try when you're not drunk, your eyes are droopy and you're swaying.... but thanks anyways."

"So you don't hate me?"

"I just heavily dislike you. Go sober up Chishiya."

He mumbles and leaves, and I smile, taking a whiff of the cool midnight air. He's always softer when he's drunk.

Third Month:

"Do you do this on purpose?"

"Do what?"

He says chewing on his snack, looking at the road ahead decors flying by as I drive the both of us to yet another game.

"Stick to me like a chewing gum to my soles on a summer day?"

"Maybe."

"You're gonna need to give me a bit more than that Shuntarô."

"You're less boring than the others people around here, it ain't my fault."

"You almost sound like you actually want to be with me."

"Ew, don't credit yourself this much it's disgusting."

"Riiiight, keep following me then. Creep."

Senso-ji Temple was our stop of the evening. Our game first seemed easy enough, Hide and seek, but in a gigantic space, seekers would be human, have human reflexes an thought processes.

I was very wrong.

"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE YOU GIANT SPIDER FUCK."

Giant robotic spiders.

GIANT ROBOTIC SPIDERS WERE THE SEEKERS.

They had night vision and were unable to get tired, the whole group got killed within minutes.

"CHISHIYA YOU ASS I'M HELPING WITH YOUR PLAN AT LEAST HELP ME BACK."

The objective was to find the 'nest' and destroy it because of course they'd have a nest.

"Okay I see where it is, distract it some more."

"I've been doing it since THE PAST TEN MINUTES YOU DUMBASS"

He chuckles and cuts the signal of his walkie talkie. "It's me and you now you disgusting eight legged freak....please help me God" My thoughts keep bouncing back and forth from confident to scared shitless as this immense metal arachnid closes the distance between us.

I had to think fast.

The giant gongs. I was dying, my breath getting shorter but I had to go faster, get the spider so lazer focused she'd hit the gong. And so that's what I did. Sprinting even faster I was thinking of how I'd kill Chishiya if I ever died because of a giant spider robot, and how I'd make it as painful as possible. My legs pushed by faster and faster, and faster until I slid under the gong and the spider hit it so hard the noise resonated through Tokyo. It was down for maybe a few seconds, letting me catch my breath on the ground, but quickly got back up and when I thought it was the end I saw a huge source of light coming from behind the temple. The spider exploded, some shrapnel cutting me, but the motherfucker had saved be just in time.

"Game clear. Congratulations."

And with a heavy sigh I fall to the ground, something coming to poke my side with its foot.

"Next time, you run." I pant.

And he helps me up, chuckling and muttering a "in your dreams", giving me a pat on the back.

Fourth month:

That night I didn't go outside, my body was aching and I was simply too tired to care, choosing to go listen to music on my bed instead. The game didn't go well, it was a game of heart and it required of me to lie to get people to kill each other. There was a bunch of kids there.

I just killed a bunch of kids.

It raised the bile to my throat. You do what you need to do to survive, but that shit. Killing people that haven't done shit to you? It always feels the worst. It's the type of blood that can't be erased no matter how much you wash and scratch your skin so your own blood hides the one of the innocents.

"There's blood on your bedsheets."

"I know. Don't worry it's mine." I sniff, fat tears rolling down my face out from my closed eyes.

I hear a sharp inhale and scrambling around until a wet cloth is dabbed around my mouth, if you cant scratch yourself with your other hand your body has other tools.

"You can't keep hurting yourself. You drink, you smoke, you do shit like that, you're deflecting your pains. Using addictions and new pains to make you forget the old ones."

"Wow I love to get psychoanalyzed by my ex." Another sharp intake of breath and a pregnant pause.

Until he scrambles again, washing my arms with antiseptic, I tried to not budge but the pain was intense and I was feeling antsy due to slowly loosing blood.

"Do you want to kill yourself (y/n)? 'Cause you're on the right path to do so."

"Sometimes I do yeah. But I'm not worthy yet, so I keep on going."

My arm finally wrapped up, I curl up on my side.

"You're worthy of more than you think."

"You're just saying that."

"You know I always mean what I say, or at least half of it."

"Way to make me feel better."

I feel the bed dip and a hand going through my hair. It had gotten longer in the time I was at The Beach, around Chishiya's length.

"I should cut it."

"No, let me take care of it."

"...okay."

And so he did. Next day he brushed the nest that was my hair, which I frankly wanted to just shave because of how unnecessary it was. I didn't care much for my looks anymore.

But when Chishiya brushed my hair and washed it, it reminded me of that day, months and months ago. A day that I wanted to forget like I wanted to forget him back then. But, one of my reasons for being how I am now.

He was so gentle with me today, as if I were glass. In the mirror I saw nothing but a broken woman and looked at myself with disdain. But he looked, hopeful somehow. And as I looked at his face I sighed.

"Your hair looks like shit. Sit." And he did.

"Your hair looks like tarmac with a piss poor covering of snow on it."

And with that and the slight sound of the iPod, I opened the bleaching kit I found under his sink. Preparing the mixture and gently putting it on Chishiya's hair. The fumes were horendous but his hair was finally back to platinum, so I washed his hair and dried it as gently as I could while I watched his shoulder and face relax from the mirror.

"I missed this." He said as he opened his eyes and looked up at me, a small smile on his lips. I scowl.

"Shut up, I just don't want to be indebted to you."

But all I did was hide the fact that,

I missed this too.

Fifth month:

"JESUS CHISHIYA GET YOUR LEGS TO RUN FASTER."

Another hospital games. Those were fun right? Yeah no, they weren't ever fun. This time it was a club game, once again.

But we had to run, and fast.

We had to find creepy dolls all around the hospital to smash em and get a piece of a code which we all communicated to each other via walkie talkie.

Turns out that when we smash a doll, we get ten minutes in which our position is revealed to the killer, and he was efficient. Probably a merc, but definitely someone that we needed to outsmart since we couldn't out run him. So we brought him to the maze that is the OR floor. Just a bunch of doors leading from one room to the other, to the corridor, to yet another room.

How wrong we were to bring him here.

"I think we lost him." I pant.

"Yeah, good job. Stay here, I saw a doll in the observing room."

"Sure."

I lean on the counter and as I take a breather. The lights turn off.

"Shuntarô, this is too familiar. Shun?"

"The door is locked, fuck. We're trapped."

"Shit, it's starting to smell weird in here."

"DONT INHALE IT- (y/n)? (Y/N)?!"

And as I feel my consciousness slipping, I feel a stinging in my stomach area.

. . . . ..n)

. .

. .../n)

. .

(y/n)

.

(y/n) please wake up, please.

I feel my body being rocked back and forth as my numbed senses come back to me.

"Chi-"

"Please, don't die on me, not yet. You can't, you need to stay alive."

"Chishiya what the fuck?"

He stops his mumbling, now that my eyes were less hazy I could see it. Streams of tears were running down his cheeks, I was back in my room, on my bed, in Chishiya's arms. And it all came back to me, the hospital, it was like back then, when I lost my arm. So I do what I can and take him in my arm as he collapses of exhaustion.

I set him on my bed and lay next to him. It was the second time it happened, we really shouldn't get separated in hospitals. And as sleeps overtakes me, he holds me.

And that's the last time I see him before he ignores me again.

<Prev /Next>

M.list

taglist wanters

Whew, that man is a rollercoster. Loves me, loves me not. They are dancing around each other and soon enough we'll have some action. Next chapter is the start of canon stuff related to the series so I hope you guys are ready, because I sure am! Also, I hope you like my amputee jokes for mc from last chapter, there will be some more when I feel the context is good enough. Merry Christmas y'all!

[1997thebracket]

Round 5 - SEMIFINALS

It's the battle of albums and anime in 1997! Which will be the last anime standing?

Revolutionary Girl Utena: If it cannot break its shell, the chick will die without ever being born. This sentiment, originally found in Hermann Hesse’s 1919 novel Demian, features during a repeated sequence in the 1997 anime Revolutionary Girl Utena. Hesse is far from the only reference to philosophical, surrealist, or heavily symbolic text in the show, which trades in visual metaphor and multi-layered subtext. Revolutionary Girl Utena follows the story of Utena Tenjou, a young orphan who aspires to princehood-- challenging or outright circumventing the place of gender in that aspiration-- and is entangled in a series of duels centered around a girl named Anthy Himemiya. Written by Kunihiko Ikuhara, Chiho Saito, and Yōji Enokido (known collectively as Be-Papas) and soundtracked by J.A. Seazer and Shinkichi Mitsumune, the show has an instantly recognizable style, combining lush fairytale visuals and French-inspired architecture with a choir that functions as a sort of Greek chorus to the internal worlds externalized in combat. Utena is a story about many things, arguably all things, taking a surgical scalpel to adolescence and using the flat of the blade as a paintbrush, leaving a deeply human, visceral work of art in its wake. It has been massively influential on feminist, queer & sapphic, and otherwise gender-deconstructive or gender-subversive modern media. Smash the world's shell! For the revolution of the world!

Princess Mononoke: Cut off a wolf’s head, and it still has the power to bite. Princess Mononoke is a critically acclaimed animated film created by globally renowned director Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli, released in 1997. The film tells a complex environmental story, set in a fantastical ancient forest based on late Muromachi period Japan; we join a young warrior, Ashitaka, who becomes embroiled in a conflict between the inhabitants of the forest and a mining town encroaching on their land. At the heart of the story is San, a human girl raised by wolves, and Lady Eboshi, the leader of the mining community. Princess Mononoke is admired by Ghibli and non-Ghibli fans alike for its beautiful hand-drawn animation and its exploration of the themes of nature, industrialization, and the delicate balance between the consistent push of humanity and the weariness of a long-surviving environment. It was the highest-grossing film in Japan for 1997, and also held Japan's box office record for domestic films until Miyazaki’s 2001 release Spirited Away; for many, these films also filled a long-existing gap for skillfully-crafted Japanese animated films appealing to the wider Western market.

[painting-portrait]

How many kinds of oil painting knives are there?

How many kinds of oil painting knives are there?

In painting tools, oil painting knife is also commonly used tools. The blades are mostly steel, but also plastic, generally without a sharp blade. Oil painting knives have many different shapes, as shown in Picture 11. The shape of the blade may be round, square, pointed, or even serrated. However, no matter how the knife type changes, its function can be divided into three types: color knife, painting knife and scraper. But in the process of use, each oil painting knife has multiple functions.

(1) Palette knife. Used to adjust and oil paints on a palette or flat panel. Generally long body, round head, straight handle, moderate hardness and elasticity. The knife surface is smooth and smooth for wiping. The design of the round tip blade is an important feature. When mixing the paint, the paint can be quickly removed and the color can be scraped without damaging the base plate.

(2) Drawing knife. Painting knife blade thin, delicate, elastic. A curved metal rod is connected between the blade face and handle. This special design prevents the fingers from touching the color of the picture while making the knife more flexible and free in control. The blade has a variety of shapes, including round, square, triangle, obtuse, etc., as well as different lengths and sizes. Painting with a paintbrush can achieve an effect that is difficult to achieve. The brush is often used perpendicular to or at an Angle to the canvas, whereas with a drawing knife the blade is almost parallel to the canvas. A drawing knife is a common tool of modern painters.

(3) scraper. It is mainly used to clean up old pigments from the color palette. The blade is hard and shaped like a worker's shovel. But in practical application, large color palette knife, painting knife is often used to scrape color. Do not scrape dry colors on the palette, however, because the blade is thin and flexible. There is a plastic scraper with a straight handle to ensure that the palette, especially the paper palette, will not be damaged when used.

(4) Auxiliary tools.

Scalpel or paper knife: Used to repair the raised thread on the canvas, remove small particles or stains on the picture.

Large scraper: mainly used for making large canvas base, used in modern painting techniques for large area coloring.

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Story Masterlist]

(Tags/TCW: threatening, violence, torture, force-feeding, tube feeding, blood, breaking/broken bones, moderate gore, dental/tooth extraction, implied scalping, stabb!ng/impal!ng, painting with blood, gore/blood art, story building, plot-driven, femalevampire!caretaker, malehuman!whumpee, malevampire!whumper, romantic elements)

"I'm sure you already know, your princess in shining armor paid me a visit." Sang seethed in a venomous tone, forcing Lukas' hands through a double knot and cinching it to the legs of the chair he was tied to.

"Oh, she was really mad but I've gotta say, Lulu, when you pick'em, you pick'em right." The vampire continued to speak to himself, his captive being given no choice but to listen with a thick ball-gag between his lips and a sock behind it.

"You were fun but Mina? Mina will be an absolute riot to break down."

As soon as Lukas was successfully tied, each limb to each leg of the chair, Sang stepped back on his heel to admire him. His skin was already flushing from the tension of the ropes around him and his stomach clenched against the digging rope that held him down.

Even when he struggled, he didn't get far and the chair was too sturdy for him to rock out of balance.

"I'm actually sad the jig is up so soon, I was hoping to really, really befriend her but you've got a problem running your mouth." The vampire gave a huff of disgust and reached for his duffle bag, pulling out a few wooden framed canvases and a small easel.

Lukas watched as the man littered his re-arranged coffee table with paintbrushes and pallets, eyes widening as the contents grew in severity. An exact-o knife was taken out, a scalpel, and a small, cheap-looking serrated blade.

"So you and I, are going to make her a surprise for the auction. One that'll be a real tearjerker."

Before Lukas had time to react, a blade was stabbed deeply into his thigh and twisted in such a way it made him writhe. He left pain against the gag in his mouth and his eyes rolled from the overwhelming sensation that threatened to take his breath away.

The instrument was removed and Sang picked up a paintbrush instead, lining it up with the wound he'd left behind on the male's restrained leg.

"Don't move or I'll have to make it bigger," He warned in a deepened tone as he pressed the brush carefully into the carved-out hole he'd created; soaking the bristles in a rich red.

"She's weak, Mina, I mean." Sang started, pulling the brush out of his body to start to gently work it against a canvas in his hand, as soon as he was seated beside the panting human.

"I don't know what she see's in you unless she's looking in a mirror when she looks at your pathetic, cheeky little face. I bet that's it," The vampire lamented, running dry on the quickly darkening 'paint' and giving a sharp jab into the wound he'd made on Lukas' thigh.

Lukas whined against the gag, body tensing and another push of perfect crimson readying Sang's painting tool once more. His skin dripped with trails and a small puddle had formed where the droplets collected. It hadn't been an artery, thankfully, the man was careful and only scraped up tissue and cells.

"I wish you could see it for yourself, just what I'm going to make her do Lukas." Even in his slew of a one-sided conversation, he was making skilled strokes against the canvas and dipping for more paint at his leisure; back into the wound, he'd made in the first place. "But I'm hoping she'll fight, so I can actually enjoy breaking her down."

Even as tears collected in his eyes and his leg twitched as he rooted the brush around inside it; what ate at him more was the idea that she could face the same treatment.

He deserved this.

She didn't.

Lukas sat still bound to the chair, hours later and his head dipped lower and lower as he went in and out of consciousness. The floor was stained around him with blood and it had long dried down his body in patchy ribbons.

"Hey," A rough smack to his cheek and he barely crested view towards Sang as the vampire grabbed up his head and paid no mind to the wounds he'd left on his skull. Even as the human cried out in such a broken, strained whimper; nothing akin to compassion could be found on the man.

There was a scrunch on his face, brows pinched like there was a vice between them; his breath was shallow on his lips and panting to catch up.

"You're not getting out of it that easy, Lulu." The vampire grabbed his fractured jaw and intentionally crushed it to wake the male with agonizing pain instead. "Open your mouth."

Lukas refused, sealing his lips closed and gritting his teeth to the best of what his damaged skull would allow. It wasn't much, the vampire pried his lips open and tried separating his teeth.

"Oh if you think I'm not prepared, you're sorely mistaken," Sang seethed in irritation, reaching into his nearby bag to reef out two items that shot terror through the human in his grasp. He could already smell it radiating off his skin, how fearful he was.

"You're going to drink enough blood that I can finish my deadline," The vampire took a slender tube from within his belongings and gritted his teeth in annoyance when the human clamped down on the fingers in his mouth.

Lukas writhed as far as he could, flattened, fought what little the man had allowed him as the tube was scraped on his gums. He lost power too quickly, he couldn't hold on as Sang manipulated the bones in his jaw and his pain was cut off with the item in hand. The tube scraped down his throat with a brutal slice and as soon as it was lodged; his head was turned so the rushing acid would meet the floor instead.

Sang had been prepared, allowing the male to vomit until his stomach was emptied and once the tube was cleared; the second item was fixed onto the end. A funnel.

The vampires slit his palm as deep as it would go and squeezed the wound into the basin of the funnel; a hand meeting Lukas' throat to steady him while he gasped and gagged. The plan worked, much to the human's dismay and fresh blood was siphoned into his stomach to be absorbed on contact.

As soon as it was warm and deep in his stomach; Lukas stopped fighting. And Sang was left to witness something that had drawn him to the human in the first place.

The subtle changes took over his body like a wave and left the vampire with a landscape of inspiration as each nuance hit.

Green eyes were consumed with black, skin transformed back to its normal ashen pallidity. It was euphoric to feel the bones set under his fingers, feel such strong resistance around the tube as he pulled it out. He watched Lukas fight to correct himself, how much he naturally wanted to slump within a few lingering moments.

The heat was next, the black-haired man's skin starting to flush and shift under the tack of crusting blood. Sang watched wounds close where he'd left them, the scalp he'd taken off of him re-surface and tuft with hair already. He saw the fall in posture, how his lips slowly parted as seconds grew and drool met his corners.

"You want more now?" Sang purred, fingers carding through his matting strands; gripping for a moment to tilt his head back.

Lukas looked angry still, under the softened lines of his face. Despite how wide his pupils were, how fast his heart rushed against his ribs, he wasn't happy about this dose.

A tongue swiped over his lips to moisten them and hunter-green eyes stared up at the man that had helped ruin his life. The vampire was observing him so intensely, eyes deep and piercing with an electric blue. The corners of his lips curled back and it made him feel like Alice, locking eyes with the Cheshire cat.

"I'll give you more, Lukas if you'll suck up the pieces of your pride and beg me for it. How you used to." Sang informed, watching more defiance spark in the male, now that he'd come back to physical perfection within a few minutes.

"Fuck you," Lukas seethed as the vampire snatched up his chin and promptly halted the healing of his shattered jaw with another grind.

"All you have to do is fucking beg, slut," Sang's voice dropped to a dangerous pitch and he held onto the bones that were rearranging under his fingers. He was enjoying it too much, the look on his face said so the longer he stared his obsession down. "I need to see you lose it, one more time if I'm going to finish these tonight."

Lukas gave a huff through his nose and a roll of his eyes, tears surfacing down his corners from the stings of pain through his face. He couldn't look at him anymore but Sang wasn't satisfied with that, he knew the moment he looked away, what he'd earn.

A fist met the healing fractures and reversed every stitch Sang's blood had tried to reverse. Another and another, all from opposite sides of the last. When the vampire stopped, Lukas' face was unhinged and the lower half rested close to his neck. There were finally new shrieks of pain and terror, as he'd minced the bones finely enough to misalign teeth and leave them stringing on gums.

"Ooof- maybe too hard... You're not very pretty anymore," The vampire laughed, fingers reaching into the mess and pulling a molar from the very back of his mouth. "I might use this too, or I might leave it for Mina as a gift. Give her a little teaser for the real event."

Lukas was trembling now, shaking in the overwhelming shock of pain and the fear of just how far Sang would go this time. He'd been creative, brutal in the past but tonight's example of both was putting dread in the mix of his gut.

All he was left to do was watch as the vampire returned to his canvas and had started with a new one. He reached out with a pallet to catch a string of bloody drool and shoved another brush into the socket he'd left behind on his gumline. A deep twist and Lukas was howling again; blood vomiting over his hand from the human's nausea hitting its peak.

"Ah, you sick little shit you're wasting it," Sang chastised, tending to the thinned material with a spread of red and deeper crimson. "But I brought the funnel for a reason."

Lukas cried out in broken terror now, the radiating sting overwhelming him every time Sang engaged with his distorted mouth. He gagged and sputtered, pulled against his bindings, and sobbed in a gasping breath. It was substantially harder to keep calm and regulate his breathing, even more so when the brush dug into his strained gums.

"Don't worry Lulu, I've only got three more pieces to go. You'll be fine."

"Excuse me," Val announced, flagging down the attention of a passing brunette with a badge. They could only assume she worked there.

"Yes? Can I help you with something?" Andreia questioned, stopping when the tall vampire tracked her down mid-sprint across the gallery.

"I'm looking for Mina, is she around?" They asked, watching the human give a squint to her eyes. It was minimal, but they noticed it. She definitely knew of the name.

"She's not here right now but I'm of the same title so perhaps I could be of some use?" Andreia watched the vampire take a manilla envelope from under their arm and extend it to her, Mina's name written across the front.

"Could you give this to her? Just tell her it's from a friend, she won't know me by name." They offered and kept it extended until cautious hands took it from them. They looked at the woman when she met eyes with them and offered the smallest edge of a smile.

The next words from the vampire, left Andreia speechless, even as they turned away and walked through the front doors. Her mother tongue met her ears and the accent was so refined, there was no way it wasn't native. The sound left a chill down her spine and she was clutching the documents to her chest without realizing her stance.

'Regina are nevoie de ajutorul nostru dacă vrea să omoare dragonul.'

"What could that possibly mean?" Andreia asked, having recapped the event to Mina as soon as she'd made it into the break room.

"Who was this again?" The vampiress questioned and the human slid the package closer to her.

"They said you wouldn't know them by name but they were tall, brown hair, brown eyes. Extremely long hair, couldn't tell what gender they were." She watched the woman pull open the unsealed flap and peek into the contents, brows pinching as she slid them out.

Andreia circled her, looking over her shoulder as she pulled out the papers but she flipped them when she got close. "Ugh Mina, I want to know too, this is too mysterious."

"I don't know what it might be so please, allow me to look over it first by myself and I promise I'll tell you okay? Could you go buy me some time with Blaire?" Mina asked, watching the woman's face fall and shoulders slump in defeat. She pouted even and Mina mimed the expression.

"I can buy you ten minutes, maybe fifteen if I bullshit hard enough," Andi replied and Mina gave her a sweet smile.

"I promise, I'll fill you in."

As soon as Andreia was gone from the break room, she gave a small peek over her shoulder and towards another colleague with their back turned. At last, she flipped the documents back over and started to card her fingers through them as she stared at the first page.

It was an article that had been printed from a web page but the contents started to force tension into her lips and jaw as she read further down.

'The vampire in question was taken to trial on the 31st and faced a live jury of kindred while he gave his testament. The defense held solid grounds and evidence through the trial and after only two hours of discussion, all parties regrouped to find Sayong not guilty of his crimes.'

'This case will go down in history, as the biggest failure of the vampiric counsel. Letting a monster free, into the public will go to prove their leniency isn't suitable in all cases. Immortal or otherwise.'

'At the loss of 13 human lives, 13 families affected and 13 empty caskets; the public is appalled at what has come of this case of public manslaughter.'

Mina's sight was all but there when she peeled back more pages; found more clippings, more news articles. Each seemed older than the last and by the time she was down to parchment paper, she was squinting to read ink that had smudged and faded.

'This beast is different, far different from the ones we've encountered. It moves through the shadows, it can transform into many faces. It hides and it hides well. No one knows its true form but there is hearsay about it being ten thousand years old.'

'Be warned any that encounter it, it is not like a common leech, it can form teeth and claws, it projects the resemblance of kin and enemy. It has tricked many of us into our demise and I fear none of us will make it, but if this letter is found; do not follow the blue-eyed monster. If it has seen you, it may already be too late.'

As she scanned the final page, Mina reached for the envelope and found a bit of weight left in the corner. The papers were dismissed and she poured the contents into her hand; a smooth, shiny coin meeting her palm. In an instant, her lids fluttered and visions painted before her eyes; this time, of a familiar scene.

Neon blurs hazed her sight and she saw Grim’s, the dented back door, and the blurry face of an attendant. Further, a door that had scribbled writing on it was indecipherable because the message wasn’t important. She knew where she was, where this person had been who owned the coin prior.

She saw Lukas and he looked at her, them, so fondly. He crawled with open arms, another scene and he laid against their chest and cried. A hand soothed his head, pet through messy hair, and tamed it backward. Whoever looked at him; did so with love in every movement. They pulled his head up, kissed him; in another flashing instant he was under them, panting in ecstasy. Clinging, wanton, she felt like she should have looked away.

The bleary vision of a gravestone cracked the vision of Lukas’ pleasure, this time the name was visible. Valen Zugravescu. She read it as if she were looking at it head-on. The vision morphed a final time and she watched as someone snipped flowers into a sink, padded across another room and they looked at the coin currently in her hand. As they picked it up, stroked a thumb over it, they looked into the hallway mirror and she saw their reflection.

Brown hair, down to their waist, and dark eyes that looked sullen at their own image. They spoke something and it was distorted but she just barely made it out.

“Save him, before we both lose him.”

When Mina gained control of herself again, she had to quickly upright to keep from face-planting into the table in front of her. Tears pushed through her eyes, blood dripped from her nose and her lids fluttered to gain relief from such a long glimpse into the past. There was no doubt in her mind it was intentional; planted there by this vampire for her to see.

The spasm in her chest was painful and she quickly plucked a napkin from the condiment caddy to hold it up to her nose. Another to wipe the table off in hasty covering and she smeared it off her lips and chin. Hunger panged in her throat and she swallowed a short trail of her own plasma when she tilted her head back a bit.

“Mina, are you alright?”

Before she could orient herself, the break-room door creaked open and both Blaire and Andreia ushered in to originally gain her attention back to work.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine, I just- I think it’s something seasonal. I’ve been letting myself get too cold lately, I don’t feel it like you guys do..” She reasoned, far too abruptly to be normal and Blaire had already approached her to rest a gentle hand to her forehead.

“You feel a little hot to me, actually, you might have a fever, Mina. Are you alright? Have you been resting?” Blaire questioned, brows pinched in concern. She’d been asking a lot of her lately, there was a bit of guilt in her eyes already.

“Yeah you don’t look too good Mina, are you sure you’re okay?” Even Andreia sounded concerned now and the vampiress was squirmy under such intense attention.

“I’m alright, I just haven’t been sleeping the best. I think I’m just worried about the big day and stressing over tiny details. I promise though, I’m fine.” Mina assured, this time putting more effort into doing it with more sincerity.

“Andreia, would you be alright staying two extra hours tonight? I’d like to send Mina home and let her rest.” Blaire questioned and before the vampiress could dispute; Andreia of course jumped to agree.

“Of course, consider it done, Des will be on lunch soon if you want me to call him to come to get you, Mina.” The brunette offered and Mina held her hands up with a shake.

“No no,” She waved, “I’m telling you both I’m alright, I can at least get home on my own.” Mina tried and Blaire looked at her with a furrow on her brows.

“I’ll take you home, Mina, I’m about to take lunch anyways so let me brief Andreia on the project and we’ll go, alright?” The woman insisted and both left the room as quickly as they’d come in.

It seemed like a blur, how quickly Blaire had come back and they’d both gotten into her car. Mina was thinking too much now and the longer they sat in silence, the heavier it wore on her face. A thousand different things ran through her head and it all drew back to what she’d seen through someone else’s eyes.

“You know you can talk to me, Mina. I may be your boss and just some old human, but I have listening ears, especially for you.” The woman spoke gently into the foggy air as Mina had clouded it with how much her mind was swirling, twisting around.

“I don’t think this is the kind of conversation we can have, Blaire. I appreciate the kindness, I do and I wish I knew enough to even be able to tell you. But I don’t.” Mina turned to look at her and she picked up her occasional glance as she continued down the road and deeper into town.

“Sometimes we don’t need answers, we just need to say it out loud.” She encouraged still, easing into a turn that took them closer to Mina’s street but cut the main traffic.

“I’m falling in love with someone I shouldn’t,” Mina breathed in a small, closeted honesty. “And the odds are very very stacked against us, from all sides. It shouldn’t even be happening.”

“But it’s love, right? So it should be happening but it shouldn’t, in the theory of a perfect world, be hard. You’re right but this is life and I’m sure you’ve lived enough of them to know that better than any of us.” Blaire offered a warm smile and glanced over towards the woman who had shrunk in her place; wore defeat like a newly tailored dress.

“I don’t know the situation Mina but I know if you find someone you love, the fight is worth it. I know that much.”

“That’s the thing… I’ve lived too long to be so haphazardly self-destructive. But it’s so intense, it’s like an overwhelming urge that makes me go ‘I have to do this’ ‘This person right here, will be all I’m going to think about.’ and it’s driving me insane.” Mina lamented, adjusting in her seat as the car pulled into her driveway and was changed into parking gear.

“It sounds normal to me if you’ve never been in real love before. Maybe this person is just your match, your soul mate and you just get to know about it.” Blaire had a sparkle in her eyes as if she were encouraging a young lady to agree to a suitor. Instead of making romanticized comments about the fact she was falling in love with what society called a blood-whore.

“Thank you, Blaire. I think I needed to hear that,” Mina lied, giving a small smile and looking at her for a prolonged moment. “Don’t let me keep you from your lunch and I promise, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“I need you for the event but I’d rather you rest and I get to keep you for the rest of the year, too. Please don’t push yourself Mina and whatever this is, if it’s meant to be, it will work out.”

The two parted ways and Mina gave a wave over her shoulder as she entered her house; immediately slumping in the doorway to hold herself. She peered over her arms at the bundle of documents she’d shoved into her purse and the buzzing of her phone, told her Andreia wanted to know what all of that had been about.

She owed her that much, she thought. Now that she’d be home late and it was all because of some stranger.

Why had they given her all that? Let her see all of that? See Lukas, see them, it made no sense. She tasted it still, the lingering bitterness of blood and the scent of sex that had permeated the room when she’d been in her vision. Someone other than her loved Lukas but for whatever reason, they wanted her to save him.

And then there was evidence, file upon file, of someone who had committed carnage more times than she could count. Each file was more horrendous than the last, a dozen different names but the first three had been the same. It was an overwhelming amount of information to take in, especially all at once, and for such a majority to be so vivid and first handed.

'I'm trying, I'm trying to save him, I'll do whatever it takes.'

-

Taglist:

@whumpy-writings @thecyrulik @wolfeyedwitch @i-msonotcreative

Please excuse me while I discover what keeps shadowing my posts. The tags will be odd for a while and include symbols.

[k00269100]

Ceramics Workshop- Mark Making

Today I attended the mark making workshop. We were first told to pick out descriptive words that linked to our theme. using my theme of rhythm, some words that I came up with were: Repetition, jumpy, popping, flow, bouncy, smooth and harsh. We then used various tools and techniques to translate these words on paper with Indian ink. When we finished mark making, we made our own viewfinders using black paper to help us pick out what areas of interest we might have relating to our project.

I used a rolling pin and water to create this piece. The lines with water appeared smoother while the ink with the dried paper came out rougher. This reminded me of a effortless rhythm contrasting a harsh scratchy one

Using boucing and flow to descriptive word i splashed my paintbrush on the paper creating this. I also swirled the paintbrush around to illustrate fast tempo

I just thought this tool looked like a microphone and the top had the same feel a microphone would. On the middle picture, i used another tool which kind off looked like drumsticks and messed around with them. i really like the outcome it gave.

This reminds me of a effortless rhythm as theres seems to be some sort of relaxed and easy tone or flow.

I just like how this one turned out but doesn’t really relate to my theme

I cut out this piece so it contrasted the positive and negative to the original piece using a scalpel

Overall i found this workshop very relaxing and it helped me view my project in a different way

[teacupfulofstarshine]

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP: CHAPTER 8

cw: mild angst, injury mention, vivisection mention, human experimentation mention, boatloads of unethical science

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // read it on ao3!!

wordcount: 7086

“This is a terrible idea,” Thomas says. It is far from the first time he has said this to Virgil, generally speaking. It is also far from the first time he has said this to Virgil regarding this specific situation. This does not deter Virgil in the slightest. Logan looks up at Virgil from where he’s curled on the lab table, newly-human legs tucked up underneath his newly-human butt. 

“I would like to learn to walk,” he says. “I think it is a valuable skill to have, even if I do not intend to live on the land for the rest of my life. If I am to return to visit, and -” Logan’s eyes flicker away from Virgil’s face and rest on his shoulder, face heating up. “- and I would very much like to, it would benefit me to be able to masquerade as a human. I find walking essential to this charade.” 

“There are plenty of humans who don’t walk,” Virgil says. “Babies can’t walk, and elderly people sometimes can’t walk, and there’s any number of disabilities that might prevent someone from walking. Walking isn’t what makes us human.” 

Logan’s eyes meet his, and Virgil fights the blush rising on his cheeks with every fiber of his being. “What is it, then?”

“Walking?”

“No. What is it that makes you human that I do not have?” 

“Jesus, Lo, I don’t think ten thousand years of human philosophy has managed to answer that, and you want me to give you an answer now?” Logan tilts his head, confused and adorable, and Virgil is talking before he realizes it, rambling and spilling words out of his mouth like tap water cascading down a sink. 

“Being human isn’t about walking like a human or talking like a human or anything like that. Humans are so vast and diverse, and - and it’s like the ocean, you know? All those creatures are so different, with different methods of eating and sleeping and breathing and living and dying, and it’s - it’s not like you can just put one label over them that will encompass the spirit of what makes the sea the sea, or what makes a human a human. It’s - it’s -” 

He pushes his fingers through his hair, greasy from two days without a shower. “It’s about your capacity to care . It’s about your ability to look at someone else, anyone else, and acknowledge that they deserve everything you do. They deserve to live, they deserve to love and grow and thrive and be . Being human, it’s - it’s about looking at someone else and knowing that inside them is a person just as complex and mysterious and weird and wild and wonderful as you are, and they’ve got just as much depth and personhood and emotion and life as you do, even though they might be your polar opposite.” 

“So being human,” Logan says quietly, “is about being able to recognize your own complexities in another?” 

“If you wanna put it like that? Yeah, I guess.” 

“I suppose I am more human than I ever realized before, then.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Virgil says, and he takes a step towards Logan. Logan looks up at him, eyes wide and trusting and open, and Virgil holds a hand out. “I don’t think it’s bad at all. I know you’re all scared of us, because of what we could do to you, but - but I hope you can trust that the Doc and I, we - we don’t want to hurt you. We don’t want to let anything happen to you. You deserve security and stability, and if we can help give you that, we will.” 

Logan studies him for a moment with bright, critical eyes, and Virgil finds that he’s unconsciously holding his breath. Slowly, cautiously, Logan lifts his hand and places it into Virgil’s, and Virgil smiles, and Logan’s face breaks into a gentle smile, and Virgil has to fight very hard not to lean in and kiss him. (He pretends that he doesn’t see Thomas standing behind Logan, making very obvious mocking heart noises.) 

He holds out his other hand for Logan to take, and Logan doesn’t hesitate to place his hand in Virgil’s. They were scaled, before, but now every place a midnight blue scale used to live has, instead, a freckle. Virgil wonders how long it would take to count them all. 

(He definitely doesn’t think about laying in bed with Logan, holding him close, breath mingling in the space between their faces, sleepily trailing his index finger over the freckles covering Logan’s entire body, connecting them like constellations. He doesn’t think about trading stories with Logan, sleepily explaining his world’s constellations and heroes and myths as Logan does the same. He doesn’t think about Logan, laying on the bed and looking up at Virgil with the same open trust he’s displaying now as Virgil takes out a paintbrush and lovingly, painstakingly, connects each and every freckle into a beautiful portrait that, even in full glory, could never hope to match or even rival the splendor that is Logan himself, masterpiece untainted.)

(Virgil does not think about any of these things.) 

Carefully, he steps backward, holding Logan’s hands and pulling gently so that Logan rises into a standing position. He’s wobbly and unsure, like a newborn fawn, and Virgil quickly shifts so that he’s gripping Logan’s forearms instead of holding his hands. “Whoa, careful!” 

“I will never get used to these useless fins,” Logan mutters, glaring at his legs. “They are so unwieldy, and I have to concentrate on moving both of them instead of just one! I do not like it. I have decided.” 

Roman snickers from his touch tank, and music rises from Patton’s. “It’s hard for baby humans to learn to walk, too,” Virgil says, ignoring the other mer and focusing on Logan. “Kids fall all the time. It’s not about never falling. It’s about getting back up and trying again. Besides, I’m right here the whole time. You don’t have to worry, I won’t let you fall.” 

“I trust you,” Logan says, simply and honest and open, and Virgil feels a little something inside of him shift at such a plain display of trust. “I cannot see you very well, but I trust you.”

“What do you mean, you can’t see me?”

“I find that anything not directly in front of my face is very . . . blurry at the moment. I have lived with this my entire life. I had my electricity to compensate for this in the water, but now I have nothing.” 

“So what you’re telling me is you need glasses?” 

“What is ‘glasses’?”

“How are we supposed to get him those?” Thomas says. “He can barely walk, and he doesn’t know enough about human culture to pass for one. As far as the government’s concerned, he doesn’t even exist!” 

“Yeah, I know that, but he needs to be able to see, Doc.” 

“You’re gonna jeopardize his existence for that?” 

“Of course not!” Virgil snaps. “I’m just saying, it’s something we have to think about if he’s gonna be spending any sustained amount of time in a human form!” He takes a careful, slow step backwards, then another, then another. Logan mirrors him with an unsteady, slow step forwards, then another, then another. 

“I just want you two to be safe,” Thomas sighs. 

“I’m not a child,” Virgil mutters rebelliously. Before Thomas can retort, Roman drapes himself over the side of his tank and offers a spine about the length of his forearm to Thomas. 

“Do you still want this?” 

“Did you fire that at the tank?”

“Nah. I just kinda wiggled it around for a while until it popped out. They get loose and fall out sometimes, it’s not a new thing or anything.” Thomas takes the red-and-white spine and steps to the nearest lab table. He pulls out a scalpel and starts to carefully dissect the spine, looking for the poison inside it. 

Virgil turns his focus back to helping Logan. “I know it’s hard,” he says, holding his hands. “The amount of injury small humans sustain when they’re first learning how to walk is truly staggering. Hold on to me, okay? I won’t let you fall too far.” 

Logan looks at him with wide eyes. “What if I hurt you?” 

“You won’t, Lo. Trust me.” 

They practice walking back and forth across the lab floor for almost an hour. Roman makes unhelpful comments from his tank, and Virgil makes rude gestures at him. The gestures are somewhat less effective than normal, because Roman doesn’t understand what “flipping someone off” means, but it makes Virgil feel better, so he keeps doing it. Logan slowly improves as they keep practicing. 

“You know what would make you better at this?” Virgil asks. Logan shakes his head. “Being able to see properly.” 

“We are not taking the newly-humanoid merman to the optometrist,” Thomas says firmly. 

“Well, what the hell else are we supposed to do with him? We can’t just let him be on land half blind, Doc!” Virgil protests. 

“We can’t just let him get captured by the local cryptid hunter because you drag him into town, either.”

“First of all, I’m the local cryptid hunter, so Logan will be fine. Second of all, he needs to be able to see!” Virgil squeezes Logan’s hands tightly before he can consciously process what he’s doing, as though intending to reassure him. Before he can panic too hard about what he’s just done, Logan squeezes back. 

“I appreciate your concern,” Logan says softly. “I think your mentor may be right. It may be too dangerous to bring me into town and expose me to copious amounts of humans. I cannot say that I am not nervous about the idea of being exposed to more of them.” 

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” Virgil says, and immediately he’s swarmed with a surge of guilt. He’s basically been talking about Logan like he’s not even here, like his own opinions on what they do with him doesn’t matter, and God, how shitty does Virgil have to be? 

“I know you did not mean to,” Logan says. Virgil barely restrains a wince. 

“But I did,” he says. “And I didn’t mean to. I - I’m sorry, Logan. I didn’t mean to make it sound like we were making arbitrary decisions about you like you’re not conscious and opinionated.” 

“I am not mad,” Logan says. He looks puzzled that Virgil thinks he is. “I did not think you were maliciously attempting to control me.” He tilts his head adorably. It takes every ounce of self-control Virgil possesses (which isn’t much) not to gently squish his cheeks and kiss him senseless. (He’s not even sure if mermen know what kissing is.) 

“Well this is . . . concerning.” 

For a split, horrible second, Virgil thinks that Thomas is referring to him and the way he is very obviously ogling over Logan. His mind races to come up with some sort of defense, some explanation, but when he lifts his head he realizes that is not the case. Thomas is frowning at his laptop. 

“What is it, Doc?” 

“Get Logan somewhere he can sit and come over here. The results are back from the toxins in Logan’s net.” Roman’s entire body bristles like a sea urchin in his tank at the mention of the tank Logan was in; the color drains from Logan’s face and he goes perfectly ramrod-still. His hands are shaking, and Virgil smooths his thumb over Logan’s bandaged knuckles before he can stop himself. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, carefully guiding Logan back to the lab table. He slips an arm under Logan to hoist him up onto the table. Logan curls his hands in the hem of his shirt and very deliberately breathes deeply. “We won’t let you or your pod get hurt.”

Logan still looks terrible, and before Virgil can stop himself, he says, “Do you want a hug?” 

“A . . . hug?”

“Yeah, it’s - Christ, how do I - you put your arms around someone and squeeze, it’s a comfort thing, I -”

“I know what a hug is,” Logan interrupts. “I receive them from my dad and brother frequently.” Virgil’s face burns bright with shame. “What I meant was . . . was why?” 

Virgil blinks. “Because you’re upset. And that makes me upset, cause I don’t like it when the people I care about are upset. Hugs make people feel less upset.” 

“You care about me?” Virgil thinks about how nice it would be if the earth swallowed him whole in this exact moment. 

“Yeah. We . . . we’re friends, aren’t we?” 

Logan stares at him for a moment, and then his eyes soften and crinkle and he smiles. “Yes,” he says softly. “We are. I think I would like a hug.” 

Virgil leans forward, carefully wrapping his arms around Logan’s chest and hugging him close. Logan loops his arms around Virgil’s neck. He’s trembling, and he smells like fish and saltwater and seaweed. Virgil’s smelled some variation of this combination for the past several years, being a marine biologist and all that, and he’s largely desensitized to the way the ocean smells. But there’s some sort of undercurrent to the way Logan smells - something raw and fresh and dangerous and almost electric, the way the air smells right before a thunderstorm. 

Logan pats his shoulder gently and starts to lean back, and Virgil gives him one more gentle squeeze before leaning away. He doesn’t want to be weird about it, after all. 

“Thank you,” Logan says. Virgil takes his hand and squeezes it. 

“Yeah, Lo. Of course.” 

Roman reaches to gently squeeze Logan’s ankle, and a large, clawed hand comes up out of Patton’s tank and gently holds Logan’s hand. Virgil hurries over to Thomas and peers at the screen. “What did the results say?” 

Thomas frowns. “It’s not good. We were right, it was a neurotoxin, but there’s something wrong with it.” 

“Yeah, it was in a net that injured and almost killed someone.”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s derived from natural sources, but this toxin, it’s - it’s just . . .” Thomas pushes a hand through his hair. “It has genetic markers for multiple species of aquatic life. I picked out jellyfish and pufferfish DNA, specifically.” 

“Fucking yikes.” 

“Oh, it gets worse. There’s no way this DNA could have come from a genetically stable or viable hybrid. It’s like . . . it’s like someone took the genetic sequences for the deadliest, most dangerous marine toxins they could isolate and crammed them all together to make some kind of - of - of super poison or something. They weren’t trying to make a new life-form. They just wanted to create the most toxic thing they could, and I think they succeeded. It’s a miracle this net didn’t kill Logan outright.” 

Roman makes a loud, angry noise from his tank; a melodic snarl rises from Patton’s; Logan shudders and curls his free arm tightly around himself. Virgil’s blood runs cold at the thought. “What would it take to do something like that, Doc?” 

“Whoever this was did a pretty crude job of it,” Thomas sighs. “All the splicing is haphazard, and it’s honestly a miracle they managed to make this stable enough to do damage to any organism.” 

“Still, the fact they made this . . . who knows what else they may have done?” Virgil asks.

“I don’t know.” Thomas drags his hand down his face, and he looks older than Virgil’s ever seen him. “This - this is the most unethical application of science I’ve seen in a long time. I hate to think about what else this person might be doing.” 

“What about Roman’s spine?” Virgil asks. “Any results there?” 

Thomas nods. “Yeah. Whatever’s in his spines is far less lethal than the hybrid shit in that net. It’s more focused on paralysis and incapacitation.”

“Well, yeah, I could have told you that,” Roman huffs crossly. “I use it to stun prey so that I can catch and kill it more easily. That’s what it’s for .” 

Thomas is still frowning worriedly at the spine. “Doc, what’s wrong?” 

“Roman’s poison . . . based on my analysis, in the hands of someone who can use CRISPR technology, it could be altered to produce far more devastating effects. If whoever set this net gets their hands on Roman, the experiments they run could prove disastrous.” 

“Roman getting captured at all would be disastrous,” Virgil says. He dimly notices that Roman looks shocked to see Virgil defend him. “We can’t let anyone else know about these three. They belong in the ocean, and anyone else would try and keep them prisoner on land.” Virgil’s heart wrenches at that; he’s been ignoring that Logan will eventually have to leave, and he’s not about to start thinking about it now.

“I want to run more tests on the net that Logan got tangled in,” Thomas says. “If we can break down the technology of the barbs, we may be able to trace the origins of the net.” 

“What would we do when we found those origins?” Virgil asks. Thomas exhales. 

“I don’t know exactly. I just . . . we’d have to do something. We can’t do nothing. That’s not an option.” 

“I agree,” Virgil says. Thomas smiles, and Virgil feels pride bubble up in his throat. 

“I want to compare the net toxin to Roman’s, too. Maybe comparative analysis will help me learn something about both of them.” 

“Again, you could just ask me,” Roman grouses. 

“I probably will, once I develop a detailed questionnaire,” Thomas says. “But there’s also examinations and comparisons that we can make at the molecular level that we can’t get from just talking to you.” 

“What in the name of the Seven Mother Goddesses is a molecular?” Roman says. Logan turns to him, eyes wide and curious, and the tip of Patton’s head pokes up from his tank. He has their undivided attention. 

Virgil never thought he would be trying to teach sixth-grade biology to a trio of mermen, one of whom he’s extremely gay for and another one who’s older than human civilization, but here he is. What the fuck is his life, anyway? 

*~*~*~*

“See to it that this chamber is thoroughly cleaned and sterilized in time for my next experiment. And be sure to inform the crew that I want the excess waste disposed of discreetly this time, or they will find that they have been disposed of discreetly.” 

The secretary nods, obediently sending the orders as she peels off the blood-stained rubber gloves and tosses them into the biohazard waste receptacle. “Was the experiment a success, ma’am?” 

“If by success, you mean did the poison have the effect I intended, no. However, I believe I have isolated the patch of incorrect genetic code, which means that I will be able to improve the efficacy for next time. I doubt I would have found that on my own, so in that sense, yes. It was a success.” 

The secretary notes this on her tablet. “Tell me, what is the status of our acquisition of the human subjects?” 

“Approximately 79% of the specimens you request have been corralled and sedated. They await testing in Chamber C whenever you are ready, ma’am.” 

“And the rest?” 

“Being gathered as we speak, from the usual sources.” She nods, washing her hands and switching her anti-slip laboratory shoes for her characteristic red heels. “I have an alert set to ping when the shipment comes in. I will alert you at once.” 

“Excellent.” She steps out of the lab. Her heels click satisfyingly on the floor, and she tilts her head up. “Walk with me. Run through the list of current projects and update me on the status.” 

“At once, ma’am. Which one shall I begin with?” 

“Tests of the aerosol form of the net toxin. How have the lab rats fared?” 

“Only a 50% mortality rate, but that is higher than we had initially predicted.” She hums noncommittally, and the secretary continues, pulling up the file on her tablet. She continues to talk about the status of the aerosol experiment until they reach the private office, laid with marble. 

She walks over to the windows overlooking the ocean, hands clasped behind her back. “What of the fleet of drones? Have they discovered anything yet?” 

The secretary swipes a few pages on her screen. “Not yet, ma’am. A whole fleet was dispatched to cover the quadrant where net 17-C was located, as well as the surrounding areas in case our calculations were off. A team is monitoring the feedback round the clock, and they will alert me with the most urgent priority if they find something.” 

“Excellent.” She stares out the window, lost in thought, and the secretary gathers what little courage she has. 

“Ma’am, if - if I may ask a question?” 

“You already have.” The secretary’s blood runs like ice, but she merely laughs. “Continue.” 

“Why are you so invested in relocating this net? You seem so adamant that you’ve caught something valuable, but why not set another net and attempt to catch another?” 

She is silent for a long time. The secretary swallows. “I - I did not mean to offend, ma’am -”

“Silence.” She falls silent instantly. “Have I ever told you why it was here that I set up my facility? Why it could not possibly have been anywhere else in the world?” 

“No, ma’am.” 

“My family,” she says, “used to vacation at the beaches around here. I loved the beach when I was small. I loved collecting creatures from the tide pools and seeing how they worked. One day, I saw the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life. It was a merman, with a beautiful red and white tail and spines everywhere. He was sunning himself on the beach in the early morning.” 

The secretary’s eyes widen. “I had to have him. I tried to get him to come with me, to get him to tell me how he worked, to get some of his spines, but it failed.” She rolls up the sleeve of her blazer and shows the secretary two perfect half-moons of faint, raised white scars on her arm. Bite marks. 

“That monster bit me and disappeared into the sea. I never saw him again. How dare he?!” She yanks her sleeve down and covers her arm again, snarling. “But it’s alright! It’s fine. I will find that traitorous merman again, and it will be my pleasure to exact revenge on him. I will vivisect him slowly and painfully and I will finally gain the knowledge which has been denied to me for so many years.” 

Privately, the secretary is suspicious of this plan. She isn’t sure if she believes the story about the merman, but the evidence of scars is difficult to refute. Still, she knows it’s not wise to disagree with her publicly (or even privately), so instead, she says, “That makes sense, ma’am.” 

“I hate not knowing things,” she seethes. “Knowledge is the epitome of human power. I will gain as much knowledge as I can, and then I will have the greatest weapon and the greatest shield in all of human history. I will not let some fish keep me from knowing all there is to know.” 

The secretary wonders how long this train of thought is going to keep up, and then the tablet in her arms begins to shriek. She begins swiping at the screen, frantically sifting through the sudden influx of error messages. 

“What is it?” 

“Reports from the lab - the drone monitoring squad, they - one of the drones caught something on camera -”

She whirls around, and the secretary startles and nearly drops her tablet. “Take us there at once!” 

“Yes, ma’am!” The elevator ride down to the monitoring room is tense. She can’t seem to stand still, tapping her feet and her fingers and all but vibrating with energy. The secretary bites her lower lip and sifts through the reports, trying to figure out what exactly is happening. 

She sprints down the corridor, the secretary hurrying behind her, and throws open the door to the monitoring room. Everyone in it jumps, and before she can say anything one of them throws an image up onto the wall of screens. 

It shows what looks like a young man, frowning at the feed, before swinging the lower half of his body up and around to reveal a gorgeous red-and-white-patterned tail, covered in long, sharp spines. He brings his tail down in a graceful, vicious motion, and the spines jettison from his tail and pierce through the camera lens. The feed glitches, staticky, and then cuts out. 

SIGNAL FAILED flashes across the screen in bright red letters. 

She rests her hands on the nearest table, ducking her head down. Her shoulders begin to shake, and the secretary sees every single person in the room swallow in unison. They’re all terrified, and she is too. Every person in this room is about to get fired or mysteriously vanish or both. 

Without warning, she throws her head back, and - and she’s - 

Laughing?

Wild, raucous laughter, bordering on a shriek, bordering on hysteria, the kind of laughter you’d expect to hear from a portrayal of someone who’s criminally insane in a movie. The secretary holds her breath. 

“I knew it!” she shrieks, slamming a hand down on the table. Everyone in the room flinches. “This is proof that there are mermen in this ocean, and I will have him if it kills me!” 

She whirls around to face the secretary, eyes wide and wild and slightly unhinged. “I want at least two more fleets of stealth drones dispatched to those coordinates. Get me as much information as you can. And you!” She points at a random technician. “Isolate the footage of that mer and send it to my office immediately. I want to review it personally.” 

“At - at once, ma’am!” the technician gulps. 

She sweeps out of the lab, dictating to the secretary the whole time. The secretary sends up a whispered prayer to whatever gods intervened to keep them all alive another day and hurries after her.

*~*~*~*~*

Patton has never seen the appeal of a mate. 

He is ancient. He has outlived almost every creature he has ever met. He can dimly remember being a guppy, frolicking about the ocean with the other elder mer, spying on the beginnings of human civilizations when they began to rise. Humans have always congregated around the water, he thinks, and he has seen many stages of human life. 

He has watched humans celebrate the birth of their young at the water. He has watched them come of age, watched them marry, watched them travel, watched them grow their families. He has watched their burial rites, and he has guided many humans safely to the seafloor and given them a final resting place. He has offered many a prayer to the Seven Mother Goddesses for a happy union, asked many a flying fish to guide a human soul safely to the Upper Ocean. 

He has seen pods grow and fight and dwindle and die. He has watched many, many eons of life in the ocean. Never once has he wanted to participate in the creation of more life. He does not want a mate; he has never had the desire for that kind of relationship. 

Patton knows that mates are important to some, but they are not important to him. He does not need a mate the way he needs water in his gills. His pod is very small, and he has no mate, but he is satisfied with his existence thus far. Roman and Logan may not have come from a mate, but they are no less his. 

Patton may not want a mate, but he also knows what mer are like when they want mates. He hears the way Logan and the smaller human - Virgil - speak to each other. He can sense the growing affection in Logan’s voice when he tells him what he and Virgil have done that day and defends Virgil from Roman’s criticisms and shyly tells Patton that he wants to return when he is fully healed. 

The human concept of mates is different from the mer concept. Patton knows this much. He does not know very much about human mating rituals. 

Based on what he does know, he would say that Virgil and Logan share similar tendencies. 

Patton does not particularly care about this fact. He had been quietly accepting that Logan was lost to him forever, that he would never see his guppy again, but this human rescued him. He kept Logan safe, tended his injuries and fed him and sought out Patton and Roman to bring them to Logan. He had stood in front of Patton and sworn that he would return Logan to the ocean once he was healed. Patton knows that he terrifies most humans, but this one had not flinched. His voice had been firm and strong, and he had sworn that Logan would not be a prisoner. 

There are worse humans Logan could want to mate with, Patton supposes. 

Roman sinks below the water of their shared small ocean and grumbles to himself. “The stupid human is making gross faces at Logan,” he huffs. 

“What kind of faces?”

“Gross ones, Dad! He’s like, staring at him with this stupid look and his face keeps going all weird and pink and - ” Roman’s tail bristles with indignation. Patton gently smooths a large hand down his tail, flattening the spines and soothing Roman. He trills, gently, and Roman responds in kind. 

“I suspect he would like to be Logan’s mate.”

“WHAT?!” Roman shrieks. 

“It is not nearly as bad as all that, guppy. Logan wants to be his mate, too. Surely you can see it?”

“Of course I can see it, but - but what does Logan know about mates? Or humans, for that matter?! This is a bad idea, Dad, we have to talk him out of it!”

“Why? Does Logan not seem happy?”

“I - that’s not the point!”

“I asked you a question, guppy.”

Roman’s gills flare out. “Yeah, Dad. Lo seems really happy.”

“Do you not want him to be happy?”

“I don’t want him to leave us.” Roman curls in on himself, and he looks small in a way that Patton has not seen for centuries. 

“Oh, guppy.” Gently, Patton reaches out and traces one finger along the band of light blue scales wrapped around Roman’s upper arm. “Logan loves us. If he had taken a mer for a mate, would you have the same reaction?"

“No, because that mer would just join our pod and it would be fine! But - but what if he decides he doesn’t love us anymore and leaves us for the humans?! ”

“Logan would not do that. He is our podmate, Roman. Even if he wishes to take Virgil as his mate, that cannot change the bonds that we have with him. Logan is not going anywhere.” 

“How are you so sure about this?”

“I have lived many, many centuries,” Patton says, leaning in to gently nuzzle Roman’s hair. “I have seen many matings, human and mer. I have watched their lives play out. I know that the taking of a mate does not necessarily mean the separation from one’s pod. However, if the pod is unnecessarily hostile to the mate, someone may feel the need to choose between their mate and their pod.” 

Roman bristles again. “Am - am I driving Logan away?”

“No, Roman, ” Patton soothes. “ But if you continue to be angry and disparage Logan’s feelings, he may take offense. I am not saying that you must become best friends with Virgil overnight. All I ask is that you keep an open mind about what is to happen, hmm?”

“I only promise to try,” Roman huffs. 

“That is all I can ask.” Patton shifts to coil his large tail around Roman, who lets out a soft chirp and snuggles into Patton’s chest. “I love you, guppy.”

“Love you too, Dad.” 

They doze together for a while until Roman stirs. “One of the humans is here. Not Virgil, the other one - Thomas, I think.” He shifts and swims up, poking his head and torso out of the water. Patton yawns and rises up as well, letting one of the fins on the side of his head breach the water’s surface so that he can hear what is going on. 

“Do you need to go and hunt again?” Thomas asks. “Logan’s getting hungry, and I can go get some of the fish we have in the fridge, but if you all need to hunt anyway you might as well go, y’know?” 

“How would we bring the fish back to Logan?” Roman asks. Patton notices that while his tone is cool, he is no longer being outright rude. 

“I have a woven bag that we use for diving sometimes. You could load that up with fish. Or, if you want, I can drive the boat out and anchor it in the ocean, and you can just dump your catches on the deck so we can bring it back to Logan. Your call.” 

“I will consult my father,” Roman says, dropping back under the water. Patton lets his tail arch up out of the water as a sort of “hello I was listening” to Thomas as he pulls his head back down. 

“What do you think?” he asks Roman. 

“I don’t like the idea of that human following us around,” Roman says. “But I’m not the pod leader, so it’s not my call.”

“Ask him if this ‘boat’ is the thing he was riding on when we first met him,” Patton says. Roman swims up to the surface and drops back down. 

“He says it is.” 

“Ask him which holds more fish.” 

Roman pops up again. “The boat, he says. He also says that we could fill the bag with fish, empty it on the boat, and then bring it back down to fill it with fish again.” 

“I like that idea. Tell him we accept his help.” Roman looks disgruntled, but he still swims up to tell Thomas what Patton has said. 

When Patton lifts his head out of the water, he brings the water with him, wrapping it around his head and neck. The gills along his ribcage flare out angrily when he pulls himself up out of the water, but he ignores it in favor of looking at Logan. His guppy smiles and reaches out to touch his fins gently. 

“Have a plentiful hunt,” Logan says. “Be safe, Dad.” 

“Of course, guppy,” Patton says. 

“The cart is right next to your tank, Patton,” Virgil says. Patton lets out a low, rumbling click and locates the small ocean, carefully lowering his body into it. His gills flare out happily as he submerges in the water, and once the majority of his body is underwater his tail slithers in and curls on top of him. 

The small ocean moves with jerky, hesitant lurches. It is very uncomfortable inside there, and Patton is curled up on top of himself like an eel. He dislikes being in the small ocean for extended periods of time, but if it lets him move freely between the ocean at large and the place where his guppy is, he can tolerate it. 

Once the cart stops moving, Patton feels hands on his tail. They lift him up and over the edge of the small ocean, carefully lowering him down into the real ocean surging up into the grotto. The process continues for a few minutes until hands grip beneath his arms, lifting him up. Patton wraps his gills in water as Virgil lifts him up, groaning under the strain. He all but throws Patton into the water, and Patton inhales sharply as the cool water of the ocean flows around him. 

“Sorry!” he faintly hears Virgil call. Patton lifts one hand up and waves at him, hopefully conveying that he is not mad and unharmed. 

He swims about in the grotto for a little bit until Roman enters the water with a tremendous splash. “Thomas says that he is going to get the boat,” Roman reports. “He will meet us on the open ocean and give us the fish bag.” 

Patton lets Roman lead him out through the little tunnel. He can feel the change in his gills when they swim into open water, and he gleefully pushes forward into a spiral as he lets himself lengthen. Even at his smallest, he is far too big for any of the small oceans the humans attempt to keep him in. He relishes this chance to stretch his fins. 

Roman swirls around him, flaring and flattening his spines in joy. Patton carefully sends a few clicks towards the surface as they swim further out, sensing for Thomas’s boat. He feels Roman swish forward and sees him swim close, dragging a large impaled fish behind him. 

“First catch!”

Patton carefully tears off one of the choicest pieces of the fish and darts down to the sea floor, digging a small hole in the sand and laying the fish inside. He and Roman make short work of what’s left, and Patton lays the skeleton into the hole as well, covering it back up. 

“O Seven Mother Goddesses,” he intones. “Accept this offering and bless our hunt today.” Roman repeats the blessing, pressing one hand against the covered hole, and then they swim off into the ocean. 

When Thomas drops anchor, Patton and Roman swim up to greet him. Patton rises up in a column of water, leaving his larger set of gills submerged in the ocean as he watches Thomas. “Here’s the bag,” Thomas says, handing something to Roman. 

“What will you do while we hunt?” Roman asks. 

Thomas picks up some human thing. “I’m running tests on water samples.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I’ll be plenty busy while you hunt, and I won’t leave this spot, so you can come and drop off fish whenever you fill up the bag. Are you going to bring all the fish you catch back to the boat?” 

“No,” Roman says. “We usually eat a few while we’re hunting. Dad eats a lot more than us, so he usually eats a lot during the hunt and then he eats with us, too.” 

Thomas nods. “I’ll let you know when the boat reaches capacity, and then we can head back to Virgil and Logan. Sound good?” 

Patton nods when Roman looks to him for confirmation. “Fine.” Roman dives below the waves and Patton sinks down with him. Roman is busy attaching the bag around his torso, making sure that it won’t get in the way of his spines when he hunts. 

“Go ahead and catch something to eat, Dad. I’ll fill the bag for Logan and take it up to the boat, okay?”

“Once I eat, I will help you,” Patton protests. Roman smiles. 

“Take your time, Dad. I’m a good hunter - you trained me, remember?”

Patton smiles fondly. He does remember a tiny Roman, no bigger than his palm at his preferred size, valiantly attempting to chase down and kill prey much bigger than he was. It’s a favorite memory. 

Roman swims off, and Patton sends out exploratory clicks. He locates a school of fish and carefully approaches them, drawing in more and more water as he gathers his strength. Patton carefully coils his tail below him and releases a loud, deafening click. It’s like the normal clicks he uses to see things in the water, but magnified. 

The school of fish scatters, but he manages to stun a solid two thirds of them. They begin to sink, and Patton happily zips back and forth through the school, scooping the little bodies up and crunching on them. Despite the sacrifice he made to the Seven Mother Goddesses, Patton is ancient enough that bones don’t bother him when he eats, especially not for fish so small. 

Patton finds and stuns a few more schools, as well as some larger fish which he brings back to the boat. Thomas seems stunned by the sheer volume of fish he and Roman are collecting, and Patton suspects that the human will have questions about their hunting practices when they return to Logan. He should probably prepare Roman for those questions on the way back, he thinks. 

He’s so distracted that he almost doesn’t notice when a fish gets close to him. That puzzles Patton; most fish avoid him, knowing that they are in the presence of an apex predator. Still, he thinks, food is food. He sends out one of his stunners, but the fish is unaffected. 

That makes his scales itch in a strange way. He tries again, a little louder. The force of the sound knocks the strange fish back a little, but it just keeps approaching. Patton quickly dives below it and emits a low, rumbling distress call to Roman. Whatever this thing is, he wants his guppy close before they deal with it. 

Roman speeds to his side, and Patton points up to the strange fish. “It doesn’t look like a real fish,” Roman murmurs. “No fish I’ve ever seen, anyway. I don’t like it, Dad. I’m gonna go stab it.”

“Be careful,” Patton pleads. “I already have one injured guppy.” Roman nuzzles his face into Patton’s neck for a moment before bending his arms so that the spines on his joints sharpen and stand at attention. 

Patton watches with apprehension as Roman swims up and quickly gets in front of the strange fish. He brings his tail up, spines stiffening, and throws it forward. A few spines jettison out and pierce the strange fish. 

The water crackles and fizzes as the strange fish dies, almost like the water around Logan when he attacks. Roman flinches back from the discharge before swimming up to inspect what he’s just killed. 

“Dad, this isn’t a fish,” he says. Patton swims up quickly. “It looks like a fish, but there’s no meat. There’s no bones. It - it feels like the things the humans use.” Patton touches the strange object and recoils from the smooth, warm sensation. 

“We should get this to Thomas immediately. Maybe he knows more about this thing.” 

“Whatever it is, I have a bad feeling,” Roman says. 

Although he doesn’t say anything, not wanting to frighten his guppy, Patton does, too.