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#source: tick tick boom
the-black-bulls · 2 months
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Yami: You need to ask, are you letting yourself be led by fear, or by love?
Finral: Fear! A hundred percent fear!
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colourstreakgryffin · 8 months
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I saw you're taking Hazbin hotel requests so I thought I'd shoot my shot! So reader is a young boy who also died around Alastor's time(Early 1930s) . He's so confused and overwhelmed by how fast everything is progressing. So when he hears Alastor humming/singing a song from the 1930s he feels a sense of comfort and familiarity. Bonus if it also happens to be their favorite song! Take your time and you're amazing!
Oooh! Fourth Alastor request and I am having such a great time with this! This man is so fun to write for! After I finish here, I am gonna go cook some Jambalaya then pop it into my pentagram and summon Al so he can cook me!
Alastor- Night & Day
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Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom…
when the jungle shadows fall
like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock
You don’t recognise anywhere you are… this place. It’s hot, dark, dangy and uncomfortable. There’s nothing here resembling Earth and it’s shaking you to your core. Not having the strength nor confidence to move anymore from the alleyway you were just dropped into upon arriving here from the pentagram in the dark sky. Everyone is too much for your young mind… well. Other than that best, those lyrics and that voice
As it stands against the wall
Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops
When the summer shower is through
So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you
That song is a symbol of comfort for you. Night & Day by Cole Porter. Something your mother use to sing to you every night before bed, the sound of pretty rain hitting your open window as that beautiful sweet woman would sing over and over again, all without it growing repetitive, until you fell asleep. Having wonderful dreams all the time
Even though you’re scared out of your mind, you begin to walk out to the streets. Packed to the brim with all kinds of weird-shaped adults but you avoid most of the them, weaving through this thick crowd to find the source of the soothing lullaby of your whole life and the voice singing it. It sounds dapper, transatlantic, if not an old radio. Is it coming from a radio?
Night and day, you are the one
Only you beneath the moon or under the sun
Whether near to me, or far
It's no matter, darling, where you are
I think of you
It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Running around to find where that wonderful singing is coming from and it feels like the person is constantly teleporting, no adult should be this frustrating to find. Or, you’re just too overwhelmed from being dropped into literal Hell to even realise your coordination skills are as dropping as you did. Your mind is racing to come to terms with what’s going on
This isn’t New Orleans at all… and not a single trace of your parents around. Are you alone? No. No. You don’t want to be alone, you’re too young to be alone. Is everybody here too evil to care about a literal child Sinner being stuck on his own and having to fend for himself in ways he doesn’t know how to…
By all the unholy gods. Somebody help
Day and night, night and day, why is it so
That this longing for you follows wherever I go
In the roaring traffic's boom
In the silence of my lonely room
I think of you
The loud noises of talking, of the wall of built-in weird flat devices screeching and echoing, the patter of footsteps. It makes you want to hide away and sleep to try shake off all the distress and overwhelming feelings you are being tormented with but that song is way too recognisable and comforting for you to ignore so you just keep pursuing it
Maybe, it’ll be pointless and the singing source will be from a Radio of your year but it almost feels like the song is organic and from a person. That means there is an adult of your time here. A man from the 1930s, Hell, he may be somebody of your family! That’d be wonderful and your hopes are high that when you do find the source, it’s somebody you’ll get to embrace and talk to
Day and night, night and day
Under the hide of me
There's an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me
And this torment won't be through
Until you let me spend my life spreading love
A flash of bright red crossed your eyes when you finally had managed to shakily but stubbornly and determined, pasted through the big careless and if not almost hypnotised by the running TVs crowd, and continued down the road in half sprints. Following a array of melodically humming, recreating the beat and rhythm of the song as it seems the source is quite invested in such a song
It felt like forever following a mere sound across the city’s streets but there he is. The source of the singing, he’s so close that you can finally reach a arm out and take his hand to catch his attention
Day and night, night and day—
The man instantly mutes his singing. He is tall, in a nice fancy coat with long hems at the bottoms, with a pair of what seemed to be tall deer ears on the top of his head and his pale face branded with a permanent toothy grin, he looked both menacing but yet friendly. Turning around to face the nine-year-old Sinner running around the Pride Ring’s own Pentagram City’s streets to chase the source of a song of familiarity and now has chased and caught his hand, Alastor reacted rather friendly and understanding to be presented with a child of his own era
Leaning down to be kneel before this young confused on-the-verge-of-crying boy, the Radio Demon says smooth and curious with that same radio effect almost overlapping his charming transatlantic accent, placing his free hand on your little shoulder
Something about Alastor reminded you of a popular figure from New Orleans you’ve met before
“Greetings there, young man… tell me, where are your parents?”
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rowdyslove · 1 year
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𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. | jack hughes
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jack was always such a lighthearted and joyous person to be around.
whenever he stepped into a room, everyone craned their necks just to catch a glimpse of him. whether he was in a large crowd or just around a small group of people, there was always a smile set on his face.
but today, that bright smile was gone. his usual booming voice that would greet you everytime your presence entered his apartment was replaced by the dim ticking of the clock and the soft wind blowing in through his open window, the only source of light in his bedroom being the sun that shone itself through.
jack, sitting up on his bed with his back against the headboard, was blankly zoning out at his feet with a heavy heart in his chest. he didn’t respond nor react when he heard you open the door and enter his room.
“jack?” your voice questioned softly, a slight sympathetic tone coming from your voice. you had very slight hope that he would answer you, but you also weren’t expecting him to want to speak up either. you could understand how he would be feeling so beaten up by what happened, but you didn’t expect him to be handling it this bad.
you knew how much he was upset about not being able to play hockey for a while due to his dislocated shoulder. and you could just tell that he was feeling even worse considering how much work he had put into starting off this season strong, considering how frustrated he was after his rookie season.
jack didn’t make a single sound. instead, he simply just scooted himself to the side a bit more to offer you room to sit on his bed. of course, you being you though, just sitting down was not what you were planning on doing.
you stepped closer to his bed, walking around to the side opposite of his injured arm, before carefully throwing your legs over the mattress and laying your head on his soft pillows.
you took a few moments, finding the most comfortable spot for you and closing your eyes with a relaxed sigh.
a small pout formed on your face after you opened your eyes and saw jack still staring straight in front of him. leaning in closer to him, you slid yourself under his good arm, bringing your head up to rest on his chest and a hand up to place on his lower stomach.
“i’m sorry j. i know this must really be crushing you right now.” you muttered lightly under your breath, burying your face into the soft cotton of his sweater.
jack finally released a discouraged sigh, his lips pursed together and creases on his forehead with the resentment that was built up in his chest. he knew that the time would come where something like this would happen, but he couldn’t fight the thought that he let down his whole team. the disappointment he was feeling with himself filled his entire body more than he thought it would.
after hearing the disheartened exhale that left him, your heart plummeted to your stomach. not knowing for sure what to say, you just gently glide your fingers again his stomach drawing random shapes, your lips pressing a light kiss to his clothed shoulder.
jack felt like his heart was about to burst when he felt you against him. in a slight way, instead of hating himself for getting injured, he hated himself for feeling so many things for you.
he hated how weak he felt around you, always falling to your every wimb. he hated how much he loved being alone with you, and how many beats his heart skipped whenever you touched him even in the slightest. he hated how safe and comforted he felt whenever you always came running to him to help if he was feeling down. not to mention how much he absolutely hated the bitterness he felt when he had to watch you grow romantic feelings for someone else, just to end up with a broken heart in the end. and worst of all, he hated how he could never find an appropriate time to declare his love for you.
at this point, he engraved it into his mind that he just had to stop himself and find someone else to fall in love with. lately he had been trying to distance himself further from you, and up until now he thought he was doing fairly good.
unlike the usual banter that would start between the two of you everytime you were with each other, the room was awfully quiet right now. but not in a sense that there was any awkwardness. it seemed quiet in a sense that there was some sort of unknown flare of intimacy and vulnerability that embraced the two of you; an exclusive feeling that only the two of you held.
and suddenly, the silence was broken and jack finally spoke.
“why are you here? there’s a game tonight.” he said, trying his best to distract and steer himself away from the heavy pounding of his heart that he was hoping you could not feel under your fingertips.
your movements stopped, your fingers pausing to rest. you always went to all of his home games every chance you could. you were somewhat close to most of the other guys on his team, but the main reason you went, was to watch him; the man that shined his brightest whenever he was on the ice. the man who always had you staring down at him in awe as he gracefully did what he does best. the man who made you so proud of him for living out his biggest dream.
the man who stole your heart undoubtedly, without any notice whatsoever.
“i’m not going to the game if my best friend is not playing.”
jack’s jaw clenched hard at your choice of words. he couldn’t deny the stinging feeling that shot through him when you said it.
‘best friend.’
the two words he absolutely hated the most. the painful awareness of just how strong his love was for you came tumbling down on him like a ton of bricks. the feeling was too overwhelming for him, as you called him your best friend; he wanted more than that. he wanted more than just the close-knit friendship that tied you close to each other. the words replaying in his head, banged all across his skull, so hard that he couldn’t help but let out a loud grunt.
“what’s wrong?” you asked, concern filling your orbs as you looked up at him from where you head rested. you thought you might’ve hurt him, physically since your hand was so close to his arm that was strewn into a sling.
when he didn’t give you any response, you took your hand and grabbed his chin and tilted his head to face you, the stubble growing back on his jaw pricking your skin lightly.
you frowned at him and repeated yourself. “what’s wrong jack?”
the distance that existed between your faces was much closer than jack thought, so close that he couldn’t help his gaze from shifting down quickly to glance at your lips. he felt his chest bursting with fireworks, the sight of your lips just taunting him so much more.
jack gulped slowly, heaving a heavy sigh with closed eyes before looking back straight at you. “best friends…” his voice was timid, words slipping out almost hesitantly, “i don’t like that, i really don’t.”
“me neither,” you whispered, soft breaths now fanning right over his lips due to you slowly closing the barrier between you both.
the hand you had grasping his jaw, slid down his chest to find his injured arm, gently gliding to his hand and lacing your fingers with his.
shaking breaths were exchanged through the small space of air between your mouths, noses nudging against each other softly. he truly couldn’t tell if this just a dream, a figment of his imagination, or if it was real life right before his eyes.
possibly just a dream within reality; a dream of his that was now finally becoming his reality.
jack simply couldn’t think with having you this close to him. he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to ever think again, because if he was allowed to have the love of his life so close like this, he would rather never think.
“are you being serious?”
“yes, jack rowden hughes,” you said, his full name sounding like heaven rolling of your tongue, “just shut up and kiss me already.”
and so he did, immediately obliging to your demands. tender lips with such passionate touches and grazes of your thumb over his knuckles. all of the emotions and feelings he had been keeping bottled up inside the pits of his heart were now dropping down to the deep depths of a black void, slipping away from him to finally enjoy the moment he has been waiting for.
and jack poured out every single emotion out into the way his lips curved and caressed perfectly over yours, and every soft squeeze of his hand to yours that quietly promised his undying love for you to continue on forever.
he pulled away after a few moments, chest rising and falling heavier with each flustered pant trying to regather his breath.
a soft smile drew itself across his lips before he pressed the most gentle of kisses upon the plane of your forehead and rested his own against it right after.
the room was silent once again after that. the only sounds being the soft air blowing through the curtains of the open window and the soft shifts of your bodies as you cuddled up to jack as close as you could get.
even though the room was quiet, the love being conveyed between you was oh so loud.
and now, jack felt his injury coming to less of a burden in his life, knowing you were right there with him. cuddled up into his side, just the way he always wanted you to be.
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sincericida · 9 months
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ANDREW GARFIELD
in the "Tick Tick... BOOM!" era was something else.
(source)
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brucenorris007 · 3 months
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Expiration
Summary: When your goals revolve around one person, the day they're gone is always going to catch you unawares. And few, if any, are as singular in their motivations as Omega.
2147 words
Br-r-r-at-at-at.
Boom.
Omega charged ahead, leaving the combusting remains of the twenty-third badnik in his wake as he retracted his guns. He approached a turn in the corridor at speed. Another mass-produced E-series bore down the hall toward him, laser cannon already primed. Rather than stop, Omega let his momentum carry him forward, his frame skidding past the corner just as the inferior model fired; magenta energy singed the handle on Omega’s left shoulder.
He slammed his feet down to seize traction and redirected his charge before the E-2000 could deploy its shield or fire again; drove his right fist through its arm cannon, metal erupting and splintering like wood under his attack. The E-2000 switched offensive protocols to its remaining arm, ramming the chief of its shield into Omega’s shoulder.
A notification chimed across his CPU.
He preemptively dismissed it.
He opened his fist to grasp what remained of the mass model’s left arm. He swung his torso around with his full weight, bashing his captive’s head into the wall as he engaged his afterburners; he careened forward, metal scraping and sparks flying from the E-2000’s spasming body until all resistance ceased. The hall opened into a chamber with three floors.
Upon entry, he detected another nineteen badniks visible on the floor below; no fewer than six E-1000s turned and aimed their laser rifles at him, two from a higher elevation. Prioritizing destruction of the rejects in an advantageous position, Omega hoisted his defunct cargo and hurled it at the mass-products nearest him to occupy their attention.
Before he could open fire, a discharge of concentrated energy struck his back; he stumbled forward, swiveling his head to identify the source.
A Newtron; a fucking Newtron sat on the wall over the door behind him, its mouth closing to conceal the plasma pistol within.
Another internal notification pinged. Omega ignored it again.
In the split-second he took to reorient his balance, a Grabber dropped down from the ceiling and hooked its legs onto Omega’s chassis, two gripping him by the handles on his shoulders. The badnik lacked the structural strength to lift him, but it did inhibit his movements while the E-1000s adjusted their aim. Omega fired from the gun barrels on both arms while simultaneously re-engaging his engines to wrest himself free.
Three shields came up; only one rifle fell to gunfire.
The tensile strength of the thread connecting the Grabber to the ceiling held.
Thin red laser sights trained on him.
The ticking that preceded detonation sounded from the spider badnik.
Kvhroon.
Chaos energy, sharp and wild, sliced through the leg gripping Omega’s right shoulder handle. A grenade struck one of the E-1000s descending from above, detonating on impact.
Omega’s teammates thus announced their arrival.
Omega veered left, this time managing to generate enough force and momentum to snap the leg holding his other handle; with the Grabber lacking purchase, he broke free entirely. With another chaos spear, Shadow cut through the thread connecting the badnik to the ceiling and grabbed the line. Like a ball and chain, he swung the reject over his shoulder and slammed it down on top of the other badniks filing up from the floor below.
Overhead, Rouge smashed her foot through another E-1000’s head with a spiraling kick. The mass-product’s body crashed to the floor and scattered into pieces.
Omega’s two fleshy teammates regrouped on either side of him.
He disabled all damage notifications and switched his weapons to blasters.
—————
Ninety-six minutes later, Pacific Rim quietly played in Team Dark’s living room on their TV; Omega sat on the floor while his teammates lounged on the sofa beside him. On screen, the cables suspending Gipsy Danger over the harbor released, dropping the unit into the water. Omega found the concept of a mech requiring two meatbag pilots to function absurd, but he did enjoy watching the destruction depicted in del Toro’s action scenes.
Although they’d been successful in clearing out the base, Rouge had been less than impressed.
(“You know. When I said we should pace ourselves, that wasn’t really a suggestion.”)
While she’d spoken in collective terms, she’d been looking squarely at Omega when she used them; referring to the caution she’d advised after he’d charged ahead of his teammates through several other bases. He’d pretended he didn’t notice–same as he'd feigned ignorance of the fact that Shadow had consistently positioned himself four centimeters closer to him than was typical on missions.
He’d endured several similar expressions of concern over the past eighty-one hours; a greater frequency of the same within the last forty-three.
Nine days and two hours had elapsed since G.U.N. removed Eggman from its terrorist watchlist.
Nine days, one hour and fifty-eight minutes since Eggman had been declared deceased.
Three days and eight hours had elapsed since Omega independently verified the fact.
One day and nineteen hours had elapsed since Omega last spoke.
(“Is this a malfunction or a quiet day?”
“His quiet days don’t usually last all day; either way, something’s wrong.”)
Omega had expressed–via nonverbal means–that yes, his voice box was malfunctioning, and no, it did not require repair.
He did not tell them that his processors and circuits had sparked with so many things to say simultaneously that it overburdened his voice box. They didn’t need to know the specifics. Nor was their concern necessary; his effectiveness in carrying out missions hadn’t been impeded whatsoever. Particularly the variety they’d been taking on.
Though Eggman was gone, his machines nonetheless continued the maintenance and patrols of his hideouts in his absence; while they wouldn’t break away from their routines or attack anyone beyond their stations without explicit orders from their creator, it was still a sizable force to leave unchecked.
Rouge had secured a considerable commission from G.U.N. for each base that Team Dark cleared out. Omega had taken to the job enthusiastically, perhaps more than usual–he’d been in an especially destructive mood.
It’d been with great reluctance that he conceded to Shadow teleporting them home after their eighth hideout in the span of thirty-four hours.
On screen, Pentecost told Raleigh about his illness. From the couch beside Omega, steady and rhythmic breathing told him that his teammates had fallen asleep. He delved into his CPU and connected to the Egg Network.
For practical reasons–and his hatred for all things Eggman–he hadn’t interfaced with the network in more than a decade. Now, though, while there would be several warnings and alerts triggered by his digital footprint, without anyone to react to his presence, they posed no threat. Firewalls erected throughout the network barred him access from information such as the locations of bases established within the past eight years, but the same security did not extend to data from older hideouts.
Omega breached the outdated protections around the neglected servers like walls made of cardboard. The feasibility of finding any practically useful information in such old archives was questionable; nonetheless, he picked his way through them.
Anything from Eggman’s earliest years of terrorist activity–he’d held a disproportionate interest in islands–that wasn’t destroyed was obsolete. What badnik designs he still used from that time had since been updated several times over. A footnote’s worth of interest in the kingdom of Soleanna coincided with the creation of the Egg line; Gunner, Keeper, Lancer, etc., which would be expanded upon later. The base in Egypt had been discarded wholesale; more of a launching point for Eggman’s attempt to conquer the ARK. Prior to that…
Omega remotely delved into the archives from the bunker in the Mystic Ruins.
The birthplace of the E-100 series.
Omega navigated through rudimentary airship schematics, interpretive translations of texts on the subject of an ancient deity, half-finished plans for a third iteration of Mecha Sonic… typical of Eggman to discard anything that didn’t maintain his fickle interest.
He came upon a folder marked E-100s; found within another folder of video files.
Eggman had, initially, installed in his prototypes a function that recorded the visual data captured by his robots and filed them into the archives via the Egg Network upon the prototype’s destruction. Usually at Sonic’s hand. He’d done away with the practice sometime prior to Omega’s creation.
Omega idly opened the file for E-100 Alpha; skimmed over a lot of footage tracking a Flicky through Station Square, one that attached itself to Amy Rose. The files attached to most of his other predecessors save Beta were considerably smaller and their videos shorter in length; though Delta, Epsilon and Zeta shared one point of commonality with E-101.
E-102 Gamma.
Several people, Amy Rose chief among them, had mistaken Omega for his predecessor upon their first meeting. A ridiculous comparison, obviously; they didn’t share any commonalities save defection from Eggman and the color red.
. . .
Omega played Gamma’s video file.
He skipped through the first half of footage; more to the point, Eggman’s frequent appearances and orders. He paused at the moment of Gamma’s defection.
“Erasing Dr. Eggman from ‘Master’ status.
Established: E-series robots. Friends.
I must save them.”
Omega scrubbed through the video. His predecessors fell systematically, one by one to Gamma’s plasma rifle.
Delta.
Epsilon.
Zeta.
Beta; who managed to inflict a critical wound on Gamma moments before his demise.
Gamma’s visuals shook and blurred. Came to a stop aboard the beached Egg Carrier.
A cut to static coincided with the beginning of an explosion.
The file, played to its conclusion, closed.
Omega sat in silence for a minute.
He closed the folder; turned his attention in toward his own CPU. Extracted the code for his core directives.
Defeat of Eggman.
Destruction of all Eggman robots.
Directives independent of any orders from his creator; ones that he’d taken great pains to establish while he was sequestered in the basement. He determined now, however, that they required examination.
Omega questioned what objective the pursuit of each directive served.
His processors sparked.
He immediately dismissed the question as irrelevant with regard to his first directive. Eggman’s demise rendered a defeat impossible.
He applied the question to his second directive and found a simple answer. Destruction of all Eggman robots would establish the fact that Omega was the strongest robot.
Knowing the objective illustrated that further pursuit of the directive as a directive was obsolete; Omega had already destroyed more Eggman robots than anyone else. Shadow and Sonic were the only ones, meatbag or otherwise, to approach his record. His CPU automatically produced the follow-up query of why he pursued said objective.
“. . .”
He banished the question altogether from his motherboard.
Having thus clarified his objectives, and the fact that both had been fulfilled, Omega promptly deleted both from his internal software.
Which left him without a core directive.
Briefly, he receded from his CPU–the credits scrolled by on the TV. He turned his head.
Rouge lay with her head propped on one arm of the sofa; her body sprawled out to take up as much space as possible. Her mouth hung slightly open, as it often did when she didn’t sleep hanging from a perch. Shadow, his lap occupied by Rouge’s legs, had sunk into one of the couch’s backrest cushions, almost engulfed in down with his chin touching the tuft on his chest.
Omega listened to the sounds of his sleeping teammates. He didn’t even need to guess what their reaction would be to his current thought process.
Resoundingly, loudly negative.
He retreated into his CPU.
Drew up the code for commands of his primary functions.
A cautionary prompt popped up.
Terminate?
Omega watched the words blink at him for approximately two minutes. Failing to produce any reasons to avoid executing the command, he made to confirm–
Blip.
Foreign access to the Egg Network diverted his attention; he’d neglected to disconnect.
That the network recognized the other party as foreign narrowed their identity down to two possibilities, both of which Eggman had given up on years ago. And since Gemerl didn’t connect to the Egg Network on principle to avoid incurring any undue risk to Cream…
Metal clocked Omega within moments of its connection.
It made Omega aware of the fact, annoyingly, by communicating with him. The equivalent of a text message came through his Wi-Fi signal.
Oh. You’re still operational?
Metal’s presence vanished from the network half a beat later; before Omega could even reflexively fire off a Fuck You.
His internal fans whirred; his chassis chafed.
His temper flared nearly enough to forget what he’d been doing. The popup remained:
Terminate?
Omega disconnected from the Egg Network.
Cancelled out of and dismissed the command prompt.
The TV had returned to the DVD menu. Omega remotely switched it off; reclined until his shoulders and chassis were propped against the living room wall.
Before entering sleep mode, he made a single update to his drivers.
Core directive: Pending.
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fortune-fool02 · 1 year
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A Father’s Sacrifice
Dad Leon Kennedy x daughter, female reader
Summary: A father will do anything to ensure the safety of his child. Even at the cost of his own humanity. 
Warnings: Angst. Blood. Light body horror. Parental-Child love. Violence. 
Taglist; @multi-fandom-imagine​
This was based on a dream I mentioned a bit ago with some other bits added. 
Please enjoy! 
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Something tugged at the back of Leon’s mind, a whisper in his thoughts that would not be silenced. His handgun gripped tightly in his hand, his breathing calm and collected. A steady breath in, and steady breath out. Beside him, a young woman stood in her early twenties. Still a child in his eyes. His child. 
A part of Leon hated how this had come to be. His daughter standing as his partner in the D.S.O. He never wanted her to have a life like he did, he wanted her to branch off to explore something else, another passion. Something safe. But, much to his dismay, she trained and rose the ranks as he did. Many people often said how proud he must be of her. And he was, every little accomplishment of hers, he valued, he celebrated. Every failure, he was there to offer comfort. 
He could not have asked for a finer daughter than his precious [Name]. 
She stayed by his side, waiting for his order. The team they had supposed to meet were slaughtered by an unknown B.O.W, something powerful. It tore through their men, splattering blood all over the corridors, limbs left behind feet away from their bodies. Fear and horror etched into the faces of dead men. It made Leon’s stomach churn that he had to bring his daughter into this. That one day, it may be her face on the floor, etched with such fear over empty, lifeless eyes. 
Leon would ensure that it would never come to that. As long as he still had breath in his lungs and blood in his veins, he would protect her at all costs. Even if it meant putting himself in the firing line. He promised himself that the moment he first held her in his arms, when those eyes looked up at him and he saw such light in them that even the sun itself could be jealous of. 
Shaking his head a little, Leon peered through the archway of a door and felt his breath hitch a little. Inside the room were containers secured to the wall ahead of them, filled with vials, each labelled with a serial number and a letter. These were viruses. Each and every one of them. 
“Oh my God...” [Name] spoke softly, her eyes wide with disbelief as they both walked inside carefully. Her eyes trying to process just how many vials there were there. “If any of these get into the streets...” Her voice trailed off, the idea of these viruses being released to the public made her shudder. How many would die? Even with every ounce of help, there was not a chance this could be stopped. Looking around, [Name] wasted no time in rushing over to the computer system, looking over the information. Whatever manufacturer this was, there was a chance there must be an way to destroy the samples here. 
Her fingers dancing along the keyboard, searching for anything of use before getting ready to destroy the samples, Leon staying close to cover her as she did. This all felt too.... easy. That irritating worry gnawed away more now, 
“Okay, I think I got it.” A low whirring hum of machinery was made as a series of mechanical arms began to move, row, by row, the samples were destroyed. [Name] turned to face her father, a warm smile on her lips, a sense of pride in her eyes. Leon’s lips twitched to mirror that smile until he heard something. A clicking sound. It was soft at first, like a clock ticking. 
Leon’s eyes widened in horror, realising the source of the ticking. Before he could even get a word out, a booming explosion burst forward, pulsing through the room with a powerful force, sending them flying into opposite directions. Leon crashed into a wall with a painful thud, his head smacking the wall hard and everything went black for a moment. 
The sun spilled through the curtains of the hospital room, pouring over one bed and one bed only. Anxiety knotted away at Leon as he slowly approached, the doctor closing the door behind him, giving Leon some space. His wife sat there, a bright yet tired smile on her face, small beads of sweat trickling down her skin but she didn’t care. 
In her arms was a bundled blanket, wrapped around the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes upon. Their daughter. 
“Isn’t she beautiful?” His wife asked, looking between him and their baby. Leon was speechless. No words could pass his lips as he simply looked at their baby. He sat down beside the bed. In all his life, he never imagined he would be a father. All the horror in his life, all the terrors he has witnessed and overcome, each a trial in its own way. All for this moment here. 
“She’s more than that.” He finally spoke, his voice so soft he almost didn’t recognise it himself. Slowly, his wife held the bundle towards him, and he almost refused. Worried that if he touched her, he might hurt her. The mere idea of anything awful befalling her made his chest tighten. 
“I won’t let anything happen to you, [Name]. I swear it.” He whispered, pressing his lips on her forehead gently. 
Thick smoke and the walls seemed to mix together for him for a moment, making it difficult to determine where he was looking. The back of his head felt slightly damp, with a shaky hand, he reached over and touched it, wincing at the shot of pain that came from the contact. Blood. All sounds around him were distant, far away as if he was underwater. There was something beeping somewhere, a vibrant red-light flashing but was clouded by the smoke. That must have been from the machine. 
Turning his head upwards a bit, he blinked the stars from his vision away to see the containment unit of the virus destroyed. Vials scattered about. Some shattered while some remained intact. Before his mind could wander elsewhere, a heavy thudding sound was heard, like footsteps, though they weren’t coming in his direction. They were moving away from him. 
Soft, pained sobbing caught his attention, sending a sharp shard of panic through his body, lighting up every fibre of his being. Beyond a fallen piece of machinery, Leon could just see [Name]’s hair, her body seeming to be trapped under a large piece of rubble. Panic surged through his body, gathering what little strength he had left as he tried to push himself up. He had to protect her. 
His legs were weak, shaky, but he moved forward. Adrenaline pumping through his veins as he grabbed his gun, his eyes locked on the thing approaching his daughter. The B.O.W. A large, hulking form twice the size of him, dark purple veins covering its entire body as they seemed to glow almost, its body twisted to a point it was almost unrecognisable as one being human. 
It tore the rubble off her like nothing, staring down at [Name]’s body as she tried to move back, tried to crawl away from him. The metal shard in her leg kept her in place, blood seeping below her. 
“Get the fuck away from my daughter!” Leon shouted, unleashing a flurry of bullets at the bioweapon, rage boiling within him, scorching his veins. The bullets seemed to almost bounce off the bioweapon’s thick skin, as it turned its head away from her and looked at Leon. Still, he held his ground, even as the bioweapon charged at him, raising its arm and striking his side, sending him flying through the air and crashing into the wall. A sharp snap was heard and a searing pain burned his back. His vision spun lightly, his mind processing the pulsing agony in his spine. 
“D-Dad!” [Name]’s voice was off to the side somewhere, thick with fear and concern that made his heart twist with discomfort. But he couldn’t move. His legs refused to obey him, his muscles heavy as he laid there, panting shallow breaths. His right hand still twitched, still responded to some degree. A vial, undamaged, rolled off the shelf and towards him. Leon looked at it, he watched the blackened liquid inside it swill and flow lightly, his mind focusing on one thought only. Carefully, his fingers reached out towards it, the tips brushing against the cold casing before he was able to grab it and pull it into his hand properly. 
He made a vow that day that he would do anything to protect his daughter. Even if it cost him everything. 
[Name] coughed, trying to push herself up again as she winced, looking up towards the bioweapon as it stood in front of her. Its eyes gazing down at her like she was nothing, an ant to be crushed beneath its foot. Tears welled in her eyes and she couldn’t help but tremble as a small, scared sob left her lips. It smiled at her before it took another step towards her but stopped. 
A strong force shook the ground below them before something pierced through the bioweapon from behind, latching a powerful grip enough to lift the creature into the air and slam it into the ground, making the floor crackle widely. Among the smoke and flames, [Name] saw something pinning the bioweapon down, a large, thick bladed tail swinging around the creature as it yanked the end from the bioweapon. Savage, twisted snarls left its throat as it slammed the monster into the ground again, a sickening split heard as the skull split open, spilling the contents of its head out onto the floor. But that didn’t stop it. It slammed the head again, and again, and again until there was nothing left but a mess of gore and piece of bones. 
Once satisfied with its carnage, the creature tossed the carcass aside before it turned to her. Fear coursed through her as she saw it approach her, yet, it was quickly snuffed out and replaced with a suffocating dread as light finally hit its face. Her eyes widened as more small tears trickled down her cheeks. 
“Dad...?” Among the blood on its face, beyond the grotesque mutations that corrupted its body, twisting it to almost beyond recognition, she saw those eyes. The locks of hair that still remained in place, if not damp by blood. A low chitter was heard, mandibles on the sides of its jaws opening up slowly, dripping with saliva as it looked at the girl. The savageness in those eyes shimmered violently and yet there was something else behind it, some flicker of humanity that was fighting to remain present, to not be overcome and consumed by the virus. 
“[Na....me]....” The vocals chords shifted, trying to form the word as if it was alien to it. But the eyes gave it away. Carefully, she shifted around to face it- no, her father- more and tried to stand up, ignoring the burning pain in her leg. 
“Y-Yeah, it’s me.... dad.” Her hand reached out slowly towards him, a light tremble shaking it as she did despite her best efforts. He looked at her hand before another rumble left his throat, the tail shaking lightly as it came back into view, the end twisted like a scorpion's sting almost. The sight of it dripping in blood and gore made her stomach churn but she pushed it down, keeping her eyes on her father. Slowly, her arms rose up and she wrapped them around his neck, pulling herself against him in a hug. 
“I-It’s okay, dad... I-It’s going to be okay.” 
In truth, [Name] was not sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. 
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timeagainreviews · 4 months
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Mining Gold
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In his 2012 stand-up special “New In Town,” John Mulaney quipped that he “always thought quicksand was going to be a much bigger problem than it turned out to be.” This sentiment seems to have rung true with people online. Quicksand was such a big deal in media in the ‘80s and ‘90s. Who could forget Westley jumping headlong into quicksand to save Buttercup in “The Princess Bride?” Remember the first time you saved Mario from sinking deep into golden sands? Yet in real life, very little quicksand. While I am sure there are parts of the world that grapple with quicksand, it’s more of a trope than anything. Trapping our heroes allows storytellers to show who these characters are under pressure. While Doctor Who has its share of great escapes, it’s also prone to using capture to pad time. But isn’t that a cynical view? Can’t trapping our heroes also give the narrative a moment to breathe?
Quicksand is the perfect type of trap because it’s a ticking clock that must be treated with attention and care. Characters must slow down and assess their situation. It’s odd then that Doctor Who has never used quicksand in the show proper. But it’s just a placeholder. You could throw someone into the Timelash. The Fourth Doctor had to shoot a rope while standing over a pit of horda. Or again with the Fourth Doctor when he stepped on a landmine. But that last one is different, isn’t it? The horda and Timelash are as real as the Swamp of Sandness and the Bog of Eternal Stench. But landmines are very real. And in some parts of the world, a horrific day-to-day reality.
Returning after a seven-year absence, Steven Moffat brings the Doctor back into the minefield with “Boom.” But unlike Doctor Who’s last episode named after an explosive onomatopoeia, “Kerblam!”, this episode aims to chastise capitalism’s role in atrocity, not give it a free pass. Also making a comeback are a few Moffat staples- Villengard, the Anglican Marines, and stupid children. Each does their part to build a narrative mirroring the current political climate. But have any of Moffat’s less celebrated qualities returned along with him? Will he fall into his own trappings as a writer? Is this trope just padding out time? Or can a bottle episode become an instant classic?
Coming off the heels of last week’s manic “The Devil’s Chord,” the show was due a bit of a breather. While I’m all for bombast it’s nice to know this thing has an off switch. I already saw someone on Instagram who disagrees wholeheartedly. In their words “Boom? More like BORING,” so I imagine this one won’t be popular among dullards and the chronically contrarian crowd. But as an old, I appreciated the slower pacing and the emphasis on emotion. If you need a constant source of laser swords and loud noises, allow me to quote the Third Doctor- “Don't worry, Brigadier. People will be shooting at you soon.” Luckily, Billy No-Mates and his five Instagram followers appear to be in the minority. Most everyone I’ve talked to absolutely loved this episode.
The one issue I’ve seen fans bring up that holds any kind of water has been the conversation around faith. The inclusion of the Anglican Marines introduces a religious angle that some have criticised as preachy and offensive. In the past Moffat has used the Anglicans to various ends. Spanning across two centuries, the Anglicans we’ve met so far have come in numerous forms. Sometimes they’re allies of the Doctor, and at other times, they’re a fanatic organisation hellbent on stopping the Doctor at every turn. This time, however, the Doctor and they cross paths presumably by happenstance. (More on why I say presumably later.) This group of Marines are already in a deep conflict with an elusive enemy, which they appear to be losing. Despite these losses, they keep their faith. But it’s hard to keep faith when your enemy is as invisible as your god.
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The two soldiers we’re introduced to are Carson and John Francis Vater. Not as in they’re married like the Fat One and the Thin One couple from “A Good Man Goes To War,” but rather that Carson only gets the one name. As names go, John Francis Vater is akin to purple hair in an anime- total protagonist vibes. Vater even has a daughter named Splice living back on base. He has a cute “save the cat,” moment when he tells Splice to brush her manky teeth. Which is why when he dies, it feels like there’s still more to his story. Unfortunately for Carson, he exists to illustrate the way the Villengard smartmines on Kastarion 3 operate. As it turns out, it’s pretty quick, rather violent, and kind of pretty. Even more unfortunately for Vader, he is now essentially lost as Carson was acting as his eyes due to temporary blindness.
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It’s never really explained why the Doctor and Ruby are parked on the planet. Presumably, it’s the Doctor doing his usual “land wherever and explore,” approach. But it’s the death of Vater that draws the Doctor and Ruby into the action. After lifting the veil from his injured eyes, Vater’s injury draws the attention of a Villengard Automated Ambulance Unit with the video face of Susan Twist. Having assessed that Vater’s recovery time would be too big of a drain on resources the ambulance terminates him. The Doctor comes running at the sound of Vater’s scream but finds nothing but an empty crater and a smartmine under his right foot. It’s the inclusion of Susan Twist here that makes me wonder if this isn’t part of some greater plan. Pretty obvious, really. Also, didn’t a big portion of Moffat’s last episode also take place in a crater?
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The Doctor’s voice carries out along the horizon with a mournful rendition of “The Skye Boat Song.” It tells of the journey Bonnie Prince Charles took from Benbecula to Skye after his defeat at the Battle of Culloden, thus spelling the end for the Jacobites. This worked for me on several fronts. As a fan of the Second Doctor, I admired the nod to his past. I also enjoyed the reference to Ncuti Gatwa’s Scottish identity. The forlorn quality of his singing reminded me of the Master playing the Skye Boat Song in “The Power of the Doctor,” which was one of the better parts of that story. I was also grateful that they didn’t undercut the tension with a pop song, or something truly cringe, like quoting from Harry Potter.
The Doctor is singing to calm himself and hopefully delay the bomb until he can come up with a new plan. But it’s this singing that draws Ruby to his location. Together the two of them must move their bodies in sync to a rhythm so the Doctor can rest his leg. In yet another contrast to “The Devil’s Chord,” music is being used in an entirely different manner. But this time, the Doctor’s dance partner, Ruby Sunday, is less complimentary and more complicated. The Doctor faces death all the time, but seeing Ruby put in harm’s way raises the Doctor’s blood pressure. The adrenaline becomes harder to control. And his bio-signs become easier for the smartmine to detect. Because of this, the Doctor’s emotions are raw and prickly, another stark contrast from last week. He chastises Ruby for not doing as he tells her, but she ignores him because she’s got her own ideas about what she is and isn’t allowed to do. I was getting shades of Amy Pond from Ruby in this one, and considering the author, that makes sense.
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If you’ve ever heard me say that I wanted the chance for Jodie Whittaker to get mean, or show anger, this is precisely the kind of depiction of the Doctor I meant. In many ways, Ncuti is the same brand of golden retriever adorable as Whittaker, only here they’ve allowed him to show that he’s capable of a depth of emotion. The Doctor has an authoritarian streak that he hides well, but in times of stress, the walls begin to fall away and you see the complicated Time Lord underneath the fish fingers and custard, the floppy hair, and the eccentric fit. This is exactly the kind of episode I wanted to see Ncuti get to do. I’ve seen him deal with heavy subjects in “Sex Education,” I’m glad they didn’t just hire him because he’s hot and dripping charisma. He’s also incredibly capable of going into dark places.
While looking for a rock to help the Doctor balance his dangling left leg, Ruby happens upon the “smelted,” remains of Vater. The Ambulance sort of formed and condensed Vater’s body into a tube shape topped with a nameplate and a hologram projector containing an AI facsimile of Vater’s consciousness. And I’ll say it because everyone’s waiting for me to say it- it’s an actual fleshlight. There, I said the thing. Are you happy? Is this what you wanted from me? Are you not entertained? I’d like to pretend I was so wrapped up in the episode that I didn’t think it, but I absolutely did. It’s VOR all over again. I got over it pretty fast.
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That’s the way good Doctor Who goes, really. The little hang-ups are more like snags when you’re moving along. It’s easier to look past the nitpicks and grievances when there’s so much more at play. When Doctor Who is bad, all it has are its nitpicks and grievances and that’s a real sadness when that happens because we’re no longer watching Doctor Who, we’re watching the background go by. We’re admiring the wallpaper because just because the writers phoned it in, doesn’t mean the set designers did. But this is Doctor Who firing on all cylinders.
We are however getting into the realm of one of my nitpicks about this episode and that’s Splice. Because she lost her mother, her dad, Vater, has special permission to let her live on base. The issue I have is that I wasn’t joking earlier when I said she’s stupid. I don’t say this to badmouth the little girl playing her, as she was good. I also don’t mean to denigrate the script. What I don’t understand is why is she so old? That may seem like a weird question because kids come in all sorts of ages, but this one is little kids stupid. I found it hard to believe that a girl of her age would confuse a hologram for her father. I get that she might be fooled by the voice and I can even believe that she would be foolish enough to wander into a battlefield to find him, but I’ve never once seen my dad looking like a translucent blue hologram. This is why I say she’s too old. An older kid would have figured it out. They should have either changed her dialogue or cast someone younger. Otherwise, she’s a perfectly fine character.
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Splice’s emotional reaction draws the attention of another Anglican Marine named Mundy Flynn. Immediately my Whovian brain was doing backflips at the sudden appearance of Varada Sethu. For those of you not in the know, Sethu is planned to be a companion in season 2 next year. Seeing her this early was very exciting. Was this an Oswin Oswald scenario or a Martha’s cousin dying at Canary Warf scenario? Did they enjoy working with Varada so much that they created a character for her in the next season or is this some wibbly wobbly sort of thing? Well, as it turns out, it’s a wibbly wobbly thing. I didn’t learn this from the show, however. I learned it from Doctor Who’s social media. And honestly, I really wish they’d have just left us to wonder on this one. Would it have killed them to leave an air of mystery around her character? There’s still a bit of mystery, but I feel like they’re holding people’s hands a bit too much. I guess they’re afraid people’s imaginations will run too wild and we’ll set ourselves up for disappointment. They know who their audience is. But still, I like the not knowing part. I like the speculation.
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Mundy sees the Doctor holding the remains of Vater and commands him to drop them. But if the Doctor drops the remains, he risks setting off the mine. But even worse, if the mine goes off, it will turn him into the explosion. The Doctor refers to himself as a ”complex spacetime event,” indicating that if he were to explode, it could take out half of the planet. But Mundy isn’t convinced and tries to shoot the Doctor’s arm to make him drop the tube. Sensing combat, the Ambulance bots start looking for the injured to either heal or put out of their misery. Releasing her mistake, Mundy commands Ruby to shoot her in the arm in order to draw the ambulance away from the Doctor, but in her hesitation, Ruby is mistaken for an enemy and shot by Mundy’s comrade Canto who arrives late on the scene.
While we’re on the subject of Ruby, I wanted to point out that I found it a bit odd that Kastarion 3 was her first experience on an alien planet. Sure this is only her fourth adventure onscreen, but we were told in The Devil’s Chord that six months had passed. Granted, Rose Tyler spent an entire season having earthbound adventures with the Ninth Doctor, so there’s an explanation. I have to tip my hat to their attention to detail here as not even the Doctor Who Magazine comics have taken her off-world. I guess “Space Babies,” kind of counts. Just something I felt worth mentioning.
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Not only has Ruby now died, but the Doctor learns that even if he does dupe the smartmine into thinking he’s not a living person, it will eventually detonate by default. The only way to stop this is now outside of the Doctor’s control, sort of. He must convince Mundy to surrender. Since the mine belongs to the Anglican Marines, only their surrender will disarm the device. Otherwise- boom. The Doctor explains to Mundy that the war they’re fighting is with themselves. The Villengard algorithm has been tricking the Marines into attacking themselves to keep them buying their product. It’s a war being waged against nothing all in the pursuit of profit.
Mundy asks the Doctor for proof which is where the Doctor’s stance on faith comes into play. But I feel like the actual conversation the Doctor is having in that moment is that faith is both a good and a bad thing. It’s not that he’s saying it’s bad for someone to have faith in God, but that it’s bad to let faith do your thinking for you. Splice has faith in her daddy. The Doctor and Ruby have faith in one another. Faith can strengthen us as people. But when it’s used to justify not considering deeper truths, it’s a hindrance. I feel like this is very in line with things we’ve heard the Fourth and Tenth Doctor’s say about religion in the past. I will admit though, I am an atheist, so I can’t speak from the perspective of a person with faith.
When Mundy tries to send evidence back to command, it’s intercepted by the algorithm and overruled. The machine has taken over and the smirking face of Susan Twist shows no signs of compassion leaking through. But with the Doctor connected to the machine and his hand connected to the remains of Vater, he’s able to send Vater into the algorithm. As Vater battles the ghost in the machine, I was reminded of “The Doctor’s Wife,” when the TARDIS re-enters her body and destroys House from the inside. In fact, lots of this episode reminded me of previous Doctor Who. The short war fought on the basis of a lie reminded me of “The Doctor’s Daughter.” The message about unchecked capitalism reminded me of “Oxygen.”  And of course there’s the mine calling back to Tom Baker in “Genesis of the Daleks.” Lots of what Ncuti was doing this week reminded me of Tom Baker and I mean that as the utmost compliment. He was doing stellar work here.
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This episode had me grinning from ear to ear for the entirety of its runtime. But it wasn’t until after that I realised what it was that had me so happy. Sure, the episode was good, but I realised that it was the first time in the last 5 or 6 years that I had enjoyed a new Doctor Who episode without a giant asterisk hanging overhead. I cried tears of joy during “The Woman Who Fell to Earth,” but that was excitement for Jodie. My opinion of the episode itself was quite low. I enjoyed “The Witchfinders,” (also how cool was that reference to it in this episode?) and I enjoyed “It Takes You Away,” but I loved “Boom.” Without any hesitation, I absolutely loved it.
While the RTD2 era has been a marked improvement, I have had a few reservations. Mostly that it has so far felt like they’ve been trying way too hard. Trying too hard to have fun. Trying too hard to be funny. Trying too hard to be action-packed. I hope that the people in charge have seen the fan reaction to Boom for what it is. You don’t need massive budgets. You can do smaller stories with simple sets. The fans will respond well when you nail the tone and writing. Even Ncuti Gatwa said that while he was confused the entire time shotting the episode, it ended up being his favourite of the season. This felt like the most Doctor Who episode of Doctor Who that I’ve watched since Moffat left, and I’m including the new Davies stuff in there. This is what I meant when I said I wish Davies would chill the fuck out. Stop trying so hard.
Where this falls short for me is it highlights how insular the show has been since it returned. Eight episodes, six by the same writer, one by a former showrunner, and the remaining one is shared by two new authors. Why? I’ll be honest, Davies has never been my favourite Doctor Who writer. He’s a strong producer who writes people well. But when it comes to his episodes, other than “Midnight,” he’s never written one I would call a favourite. This is just a personal preference. When they announced his return, I was more excited for a return to competence than a return to classic writing. We could use new blood in the writer’s room. Even Chris Chibnall could see that, and he did hire some pretty good talent. My two favourite episodes from his era are written by people new to the show. More of that, please.
In truth, bringing Moffat back was a good choice. Unlike Davies, Moffat has written some of my favourite Doctor Who. And as with most anyone who has written the shear volume of Doctor Who as he has, he’s also written some of my least favourite Doctor Who. It’s bound to happen at that level of output. He’s not a writer without problems. His writing of female characters leaves something to be desired. But Moffat writing under a different showrunner, with an editor? Total Chad material. Some of the best. If they kept bringing him back like this every year or so, I would absolutely love it. Especially because it would continue to leave room for new talent.
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With Vater in the machine, the ambulance revives Ruby. Sadly, Mundy’s love, Canto, dies just as he proclaims his love for her. This part was a bit shallow in that it was barely set up and felt like loss for the sake of loss. As Jean Cocteau once said “Emotion resulting from a work of art is only of value when it is not obtained by sentimental blackmail.” So it’s a bit difficult to feel sorry for Mundy here, but it’s not completely void of an emotional core. It’s nice that Splice has a new caretaker in Mundy, and that’s as happy an ending as we need. What’s more important is the emotional depths we’ve experienced with the Fifteenth Doctor and Ruby. This was the moment when they were solidified for me as characters. I needed this episode. Not so much to show me that the Ncuti and Millie could do it, I knew they could. But rather to show me that the show could still do it. That RTD was still up to the task of delivering us something more than progressive happy fun. We’re not beyond the realm of complexity. And with that, I can relax a little. What else ya got, Davies?
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batmanisagatewaydrug · 11 months
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Hey Sex Witch!
I am a gay cis man, and while I don’t consider myself ace, I find it difficult to feel either romantic or sexual attraction to other men. Now, I’ve spent most of my time around straight men, and most of my queer friends are women. I also didn’t have any out queer friends at all until well into my adult life, largely through lack of access. Porn was basically the only source of sexual gratification for me.
I suspect that a fear of rejection/physical assault led me to overcorrect and just assume that all men around me were inexorably off limits during my formative years. Which, while not GREAT, did offer me some emotional and physical protection. I now live in San Francisco though, but while I’ve visited the Castro many times, I still can’t quite break out of the “everything is platonic by default” and feel the emotional sting of desire that I feel when I look at a male pornstar. (This is despite despite the fact that the men in these bars are at least as attractive as the men on the screen - I can say “This guy ticks all the boxes I find appealing” but still feel like any prospective spark is being smothered. I understand some of it is the fear of being “the creepy predatory gay” (thanks Popular Culture!) but I also just find my brain going into the platonic interaction zone before I’ve even considered making eye contact.
(For the record, I don’t blame the porn. “Porn addiction” is, ironically, quite the fresh load. I’m as sure as I can be that this is just late-stage pragmatic sexual repression refusing to die completely.)
Do you have any recommendations for normalizing (renormalizing?) sexual attraction and potential chemistry? If so, I’d love to hear!!
hi anon,
I have a question: you mention that you go to "platonic interaction zone" before you even make eye contact. what happens after that? do you ever actually talk to these men? based on your statements about growing to think of all men as off-limits and fears of coming across as predatory, I worry that maybe you don't.
it sounds like, more than anything, what you need is some practice initiating interactions with people who strike you as cool and attractive and interesting to get to know better, particularly in gay settings where the risk of hitting on someone who will respond with homophobia is very low.
I'm not talking about flirting or pickup lines or waltzing right up to someone and announcing sexual interest, I just mean approaching and striking up conversation. give them a compliment, ask a question, offer to buy a drink or an appetizer, whatever. just, you know, talk to them and give them an opening to talk to you back. deepen that conversation if it's going well, and politely bail if it turns out you don't click.
the worst thing that can happen is a bit of awkward conversation, which happens to everyone all the time anyway and is more or less the price of being human, so no real loss there. the best thing that can happen is that you meet a new best friend or a great romantic love. the middle ground between those two points is a thrilling mix of potential dynamics, none of which you'll ever discover if you never put yourself out there.
back to your idea of the platonic interaction zone: I get what you're saying, but I also think a lot of unintentional hurt can come from the idea that there's anything fundamentally different about approaching someone in a platonic manner vs a sexual/romantic one. either way, the goal is to make a good impression on another person and learn more about them to assess them as potential company.
making a habit of approaching people to chat can also help dispel that sense of being creepy or predatory. every time you have a perfectly pleasant interaction with someone, boom, there's another reminder that you're not a criminal of the heart who's skeezing everyone out. hell, if anything you'll actually get better at picking up cues by regularly talking to a wider variety of people - and, if you're ever in doubt, just ask and give them the option to continue the interaction on their terms. "hey, it seems like you wanted to get back to your friends. should I go?" "you can be honest: would you rather keep sitting alone? no hard feelings!" "I'm gonna pop outside for some air, do you want to keep talking when I come back?"
now at this point you're probably saying "hey Makenzie how does this apply to sex and romance" because you still have to talk to people that you want to do sex and romance with!!! and you'd be amazed how easily striking up a friendly conversation can turn into sex and/or romance. very often the thing that makes people most attractive is getting to know more about them and finding little things that excite you and draw you to them. sure, they're good-looking, but you're never going to find out about their very cute laugh or their passion for cooking or your mutual interests unless you actually go talk to them.
and hey, listen: knowing that someone was interested enough to take the plunge and start a conversation is a great feeling. someone confessing interest right up front, that's good shit. people like to feel seen and wanted. but very few people want to be the one to take the plunge, so being bold enough to do so automatically sets you apart.
you're smothering your own spark, babe. next time a guy is ticking all your boxes, get out of your own way, tell him you're digging the vibe, and see what happens next.
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originemesis · 1 month
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There's a storm on the horizon of hellscape just north of the Manor Ars Goetia, brewing with periodic as they were belligerent blasts of what one could only assume to be heavy winds raging just outside the garden gates if viewed from the creature comforts of a study's shelter against the unholy crusade that raged beyond its rococo rendition of fortified walls. Metal bars rattled with the impatience of a prisoner waiting to be let free of their enclosure- to storm the palace and pluck the haughty out of the hunkered down as if they were truly safe behind a blind eye turned. It wouldn't remain turned for long, of course unless of course every window along the stretch of the manor's upper floors shattering simultaneously was a normal affair for its inhabitants. In a sonic boom of brandished bass that made thunder itself sound like a newborn's mewl, the mansion rattles in its bones.
"When the world has screwed you ~ and crushed you in its fist..." A disembodied musing on high within the electrized billows of black clouds serves as a temporary point of reason without an otherwise unreasonable force of nature. One that wastes little time with the pleasantries of knocking to ask if the heathens within knew their Lord and Savior. No, there were other practical ways in flushing out a chicken coop, and it didn't involve playing petty politics- not this time. "When the way you're treated has got you good and PISSED." Another wave of foundationally dismantling energy wipes out the bottom layer of manor windows as if the source of its fury couldn't fathom the idea of leaving anyone currently within the house divided out of this little bonding experience...in dying together, of course!
"There's been one solution ~ since the world began." And wouldn't he know that better than anyone? He'd been there since the very beginning of fucking Earth, after all. "Don't just SIT AND TAKE IT-" A flap of wings the span of the last supper's table follow him out of the clouds on the tail end of a lightning strike that beelines for the manor, cutting off all light within in an instant.
Panic, little feathery fucks- panic and fly up to fry with the rest of this shithole of a universe.
A crass cackle culminates over the axe clasped within wicked talons and its with a sharp strum downwards does the energy behind the string's vibrations catch the booming of his core for a soul like a spark to a gas leak.
"STICK IT TO THE MANNNNNNN-" Boom.
At least that's what sound he imagines the manor's roof makes when he rips it off the top of the top floor like a rotting scab to fling aside and expose the Goetian lord in his study room- yeah 'studying'... how to take a heaven-sent DICKING.
"Well, well, well! Looks like you hooting whores fucked up your negotiations!" Floating back with several heavy flaps, he positions himself behind the subtle swirl of a newborn twister- its form little more than loose pieces of the manor gathered thus far and the faint stirring of sound waves the incessant pulse of his inner amp emits in time like a metronome of destruction...a ticking time bomb- the very fate that had sealed his own world in the end now championed by a call to cause a similar calamity once more. Only this time, it was the owls' turn to watch everything they knew shred apart piece by piece by the oncoming storm.
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"So let's make this CORDIAL, shall we? Hoo, HOO- cloacafuckers! HOOOOOOO'S READY TO DIE?" Punctuating the sentiment with a forceful slam of strings, the angel sends several waves of sound force below to slow any attempts at climbing to his lofty position in the sky, a position he'd already began to spiral up cloud by cloud as he stirred the atmosphere blurry with restless rounds of gritty guitar riffs to feed the speed of sound within the tilt of the the heaven-aimed pillar and all its currently collected debris from the shattered bits of man-handled manor.
Adam - Son of the Red Earth - Phase 1.
[track in play 🎵🎶🎸]
🎸Group Limit - 4 character slots. [@avispatr , @mages-pandoras-box , @a-hell-of-a-time x2] 🎸Win Requirements - 20 landed hits (or neutralization in Phase 3). 🎸Battle Requirements - Unless heavily staggered by multiple hits per round, Adam has a constant field-wide music-based aoe that accompanies his guitar playing. A 4D will be rolled to determine a number 1-4. This is the amount of sound waves from the aoe that will disturb the party (either breaking concentration or potentially injuring). I will then roll a 20D for each number of waves per character involved provided against your AC to see if you're hit (participants will message me with the confirmation of being hit or not via dms/discord). A hit will stagger/interrupt concentration and you will be unable to attack on your turn if this happens. *This does not stop you from performing other actions such as healing, assisting allies, dodging other incoming attacks, or using items. Adam's AC in Phase 1 is different than in Phase 2 and 3. If reached, Phase 2 and Phase 3 AC will be adjusted. After your reply is posted, send me your 20D dice rolls via messages for each attempted attack, and I will compare and align it to Adam's current AC to determine hits in my reply sequence. 🎸Starting Roll for the AOE field-wide energy surge mentioned above is: 2. I will be sending the listed characters above my two D20 rolls for each of you to determine if you're hit/disrupted on this first 'intro' round or not on your reply based on your personal AC.
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taiyonikorosareta · 3 months
Note
hey, I have an issue I think you probably can answer to.
ever since last year, I've been learning a lot about visual kei, its history, and finding great music from that subculture. the bands that have most resonated with me are plastic tree and buck-tick, though I only learned what visual-kei was through malice mizer (whose music I haven't quite gotten into, but I love mana sama's presence in general.)
all of this is to say that I know visual kei had it's prime back in the 90's and there's not currently much of a booming scene surrounding it as before, but I still find it odd how I feel so disconnected to its influence. I want to learn more about the history and legacy of the bands I love, but finding more than a handful of websites and discussion forums from years ago is a challenge, especially for Plastic Tree. I try to learn more about them, but the digital footprint surrounding them almost feels obscured and non-existent in a lot of ways. when I try to find discussions about meanings behind some of their songs or discussions about the members in general, I often can't find anything. even when trying to find the origins of some of their photoshoots, nothing comes up for me.
I just want to ask, is this just how it is? the online presence of some bands from the past just seems so hidden or inaccessible. I want to learn more about the conversations fans were having back then about the members, their music, and just fan culture in general. my best guess is that most of it just occurred offline, but even finding information from the early 2000s is a challenge. do you know what I'm talking about?
I have so much intrigue surrounding this culture and my favorite bands, but I have so many unanswered questions. it all feels so mysterious and out of reach. let me know.
i know what you are talking about but yeah it is what it is. it's difficult to find an english source for them. i just try to be ok with what little thing i find about them or sometimes i translate interviews and things like that if i don't feel too lazy and mostly i feel too lazy, lol.
but yeah i hear you. unfortunately it is what it is
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the-transid-gacha · 5 months
Note
Minecraft introject anon here!! Ender is having a great time and Enders super fun to hang out with. Do you think we could get a creeper introject as a friend for Ender?
Names: Creep, Boom, or Tick
Genders: Intersex & Non-binary
Orientations: Bisexual & Biromantic
TransIDs: TransMuzzled, TransBPD, TransDestructive (wants to be more destructive), PermaGunPowderHands (Wants to permanently have gunpowder on his hands from all his TNT making), TransEnergetic, & TransGreyFadedHair
CisIDs: IED (intermittent explosive disorder), Nonverbal, Mania, Flirty, Caffeine addict, & Pyromaniac
Pronouns: They/Them, It/It's, Creep/Creep's, Boom/Boom's, & TNT/TNT's
Species: Creeper
Age: Agenull
Source: Minecraft (creeper introject)
Roles: Anger holder & Persecutor
Appearance: Art not mine art by artmaline on twitter
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Enjoy dear- hope ender gets along with them-
-Vex
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skitterhop · 1 year
Text
how i did the shadows in MAGIC SHOW
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I thought it might be fun to write a little breakdown of how I made the shadows in my animation!
so a little bit of context about magic show: i made this animation very quickly! it was a gift for @xxacidnekoxx, and in total i worked on it for about 2 weeks.
there wasn't an animatic stage, and i drew all of the final frames as i went. i didn't even know it was going to have shadows at all until I finished coloring it and realized the whole thing looked a lot more flat than i had anticipated.
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oops!
luckily, getting the animation from this to its shaded state only took a few hours.
so let's break it all down!
Part One: Some Basics
it's worth noting that the animation software I used for this is toon boom harmony. a lot of what i'll be talking about is harmony specific, although you could certainly apply similar techniques in other programs.
Masking
the idea is simple. you have three images. the first two images are the same image, but with different palettes. the third image, known as the mask, is grayscale, and defines which areas use which palette.
when combined, the black areas use the first palette, and the white areas use the second palette. grey areas mix between the two.
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in harmony this is easily accomplished with just a few nodes.
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the unlit background is layered on the bottom. the lit version is masked by the cutter, and layered on top of the unlit background.
this kind of setup will likely work for most cases. however...
by default, cutter nodes will only use the alpha channel of whatever is plugged into the matte to determine which areas to mask, ignoring the actual brightness values of our mask.
this causes some issues for us! our lighting has layers. we want our spotlight to make the background lighter, and we want our characters to cast shadows on top of the spotlight.
luckily, we can force harmony to use the matte input's brightness values to determine the mask instead by inserting a greyscale node before the cutter and ticking the "matte output" box.
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(btw, if you need a layer or matte to become a solid color, you can plug it into a Matte Blur node and pick which color you want there. very handy in combination with the greyscale node's matte output!)
Color Overrides
the easiest way to make alternate palettes in toon boom is to right click on the palette in your palettes list, and click "Clone..."
this makes a copy of your palette where all of the colors are linked to their respective counterparts in the original palette.
with cloned palettes, harmony uses whatever palette is highest in the list (or whatever palette is currently selected) to determine which version of the palette it uses in the scene. you can override any layer's palette priorities by plugging it into a Colour Override node and adding the new palette you want as a whole palette override.
Apply Peg Transformations
the Apply Peg Transformation node is simple. normally peg transformations occur before the drawing node. this means every instance of the drawing will share the same transformations. but this node lets you apply them after the drawing node.
this allows you to insert multiple instances of your drawing, each with unique transformations!
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perfect for our shadows!
that's the basic gist of it! combining these elements gets you most of the way there.
Part Two: Getting The Rest Of The Way There
unfortunately, our table looks like it is floating at the moment.
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this technique is very efficient, but the results are far from perfect.
shadows are what happen when an object blocks light from hitting another object. generally these objects are "three dimensional" and have "volume", which, in combination with the position and angle of the light source, changes the shape of the shadows they project.
the truth is that reusing flattened 2d artwork of characters to create shadows can only get you so far. the effect looks better when the light source is coming from a similar position and angle to the camera, but looks worse when the difference is greater.
in our case, the light source is close enough to look convincing on the curtains, but the shadow doesn't line up with the table's feet on the floor, absolutely shattering the illusion.
so how do we fix this?
Color Overrides Again
the Colour Override node also lets you non-destructively remove specified colors from a layer.
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here i've "deleted" the table's shadow by using a Colour Override node to replace all of the table's colors with 0 alpha colors.
this is a very efficient method of removing objects from a lot of frames at once!
cutter nodes can be used to further mask away any remaining parts of a shadow that you don't want. example:
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Manually Adding The Shadow Back In
no node fuckery here. i simply made a new layer and drew the table's shadow by hand for each frame and included it in my shadow composite.
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this little bit of manual shadow animation really ties everything together and sells the effect in my opinion.
Part Three: Finishing Touches
these aren't necessary, but they add a little bit of polish
Mesh Warping To Add Form
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the shadows subtly wrap around the curtains as if they were a little bit round. just gotta run the shadows through an Apply Peg Transformation node connected to a Mesh Warp node. be warned that the bezier handles on this thing are a lot more finicky than the other bezier handles in harmony and sometimes they bite you.
Blurring Spotlight Edges
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in the real world, shadows get blurrier the further away they are from the object that's casting them. it probably would've been a lil more realistic if i slightly blurred the shadows that the characters cast on the curtains as well, but i thought they looked better sharp here. realism doesn't actually matter just do whatever looks Good Enough.
Floor Reflection
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i used an Apply Peg Transformation node along with a simple peg to layer a flipped instance of the curtain's Lit shading on top of the floor. blur it (more vertically than horizontally,) set the blending mode to add, and lower the opacity. done!
that's about all i can think of right now. thanks for reading if you got this far!
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as a bonus here is what the whole node tree for this animation looks like. most of the shadow & background stuff is happening over in the upper right cluster.
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yallmakemyassitch · 1 year
Text
Chapter 1 - Insomnia (I'll Never Leave Your Side)
Summary: AGOTI is woken up by a nightmare and seeks comfort from his adoptive father. Solazar doesn't hesitate to attempt to make his child feel better but realizes the only way he can is quite... unconventional. Even after doing so, the night was filled with wonder as the two embark on an adventure...
Word count: 10,764
Character count: 60,904
Tobi talks: This was meant to come out much earlier so apologies for the late upload folks, I had to do some extra proof reading and corrections. This is a passionate project that took nearly two years to create (created back in 8/30/2021) and it's still ongoing! You won't have to wait such a long time as I have spent time on future chapters as well so those will be published much sooner rather than later. Be aware that just because this chapter is void of anything graphic or disturbing does not mean future chapters will not have mature themes present. Please enjoy the story and I thank you wholeheartedly for reading~♡
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49247710/chapters/12426553
A love letter to the ENTITY crew and its creator @sugarratio1
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Vigorous winds blew within the small confinements of the city and it had everyone cooped up in their homes to escape the harsh weather. It was booming and traveled well into the night, spilling into everyone’s nightly routine as the tiny town quieted down. Life had become stagnant, branches were pulled by the wind, and small puddles accumulated on the roads, undisturbed by the lack of roaring vehicles that would quickly cause them chaos. Contrary to popular belief, thunderstorms weren’t as aesthetically pleasing to everyone.
Inside a humble house inhabited a family of three, both children of which were fast asleep. One struggled, however. He was the youngest out of the nest, squirming in his sleep to try to escape the uncomfortable heat taking over his body. The digidevil child, Agoti, had patterns of sweat stitched into his forehead. With his blanket held hostage, he had no clue where his consciousness had taken him.
“Get away…” He mewled, turning on his side.
Agoti’s dream was shrouded in black, himself being the only thing visible in his nightmare. But there were voices, impish voices taunting him . The child couldn’t even begin to think how the tormentors he met only a day ago got into his head. But that wasn’t very important as they belittled the digidevil, mocking him even more when he began to cry. No matter how frantically he searched for the source of the voices, they couldn't be found.
“Leave me alone!” He cried one final time.
Tears were beginning to leak from his eyes, his whimpers soft and anguished. Agoti fell to his knees and curled up into a ball. “Daddy...Aldie…help me.”
But nobody came. That was soon to change, Agoti was jolted out of his nightmare by the loud clap of lightning. He wrenched up from his bed with an audible gasp. The moment he opened his eyes, he felt afraid. The fear bubbling in his chest built up into a scream he shrieked into the night, his high-pitched and terrified wail muffled by the natural boom of thunder.
His eyes were wide with alarm and what would normally be rivers of salty water spilling from his eyes were strips of VHS film. He was in shock, sitting erect and still from the raw terror circulating his body. The images of his nightmare cycled through his mind and the violent thunderstorm distressing him more as the seconds ticked by drove his quivering lip to release the cries building up the painful lump in his throat.
The toddler’s weeps were loaded with whimpers and snotty hiccups. He tried so desperately to palm away the tears streaming down his face, but alas, they did not relent. His hazy vision stared into the darkness of his bedroom, flinching every time lightning struck and momentarily showed the stark white interior of the room before reverting back to black.
The glowing stars plastered on the ceiling above his bed brought him no level of comfort. Agoti's gaze flickered next to him to his tear-stained stuffed bear. Without hesitation, he grabbed the animal and sought protection under the covers. His face was buried into its soft fur while fresh, hot tears ran free. His sobbing was uncontrollable, squeaking when lightning roared outside as he could never brace himself in time.
Like many young children, Agoti would have trouble sleeping in the dark. His beloved father had noticed his struggles and gifted the boy a nightlight to help soothe him during the night. But right now he couldn’t handle it alone.
The digidevil waited for another minute, anxiously anticipating the sound of the door opening and being met by the gentle glow of his father. Or if he was lucky, his older sister would come through and snuggle under the sheets with him. Both options sounded lovely, so he waited. It soon became apparent after a few minutes none of that was happening. It was only a muffled rainstorm and teddy bear as his friends during this dire time. Terrified to death, he lifted his head out from under his sheets, his hot cheeks streaking with tears.
He wouldn’t get anywhere by calling for them again, the outside cacophony made that feat impossible. The 4-year-old, with shaky hands, slipped off his bed and plopped down on the carpet, leaving his animal friend behind.
Even at his young age, Agoti was unusually small, he couldn’t reach most things that children his age could. Most of what he couldn’t reach was doorknobs, so his father was committed to leaving the door ajar for him to leave at night less a situation similar to his current or if a late-night bathroom break was needed.
He stuck his hand in between the gap and slowly opened the wooden door, grimacing as it moaned along its hinges. Agoti peeked out slowly, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread that made his blood run once in contact with the darkness outside his room.
With this new revelation, Agoti knew he wouldn’t be able to enter the corridor without any… ‘reinforcements’.
The stars above his bed replaced the general use of his nightlight by a long shot and he didn’t have to use it much anymore. But he did keep it and remembered leaving it in his drawer. He turned his attention back inside to the piece of furniture on the other side of the room. The demon walked up to it and sorted through the top section of random junk, eventually hitting something firm and around.
He grabbed it and felt along its side to flick it to life, holding it with both hands. Agoti had to squint when its warm light hit his eyes but adjusted well enough to make out its features. Silk silicon layered the rotund exterior and two ears poked out the top to give it the authentic look of a rabbit.
He left the comfortable quarters of his bedroom after assuring himself his father was just down the hall. Unfortunately for him, he had unluckily directly stepped on a weak floorboard. The sharp squeal made the digidevil jump a foot into the air, snapping his head down so quickly it made him dizzy. Realizing it was just the floor made him sigh out in relief, not doing much to quell the anxieties that prickled at the nape of his neck.
Agoti began to trek down the hallway, it felt much longer than what he experienced during the day. His senses were running on overdrive, acutely aware of every sound surrounding him. Each breath that entered and exited his lungs, the rapid clattering of rain on their roof, the creaking sounds along the floor where he walked, all served to make the experience as sinister as possible.
Then he heard it.
A creak not from his own doing, coming from just behind him.
Agoti whipped around, holding the nightlight right in front of him. He hesitated but ultimately approached the weak floorboard where the noise had resonated.
There was nothing there.
His vision was superior to most species compared to his, but even he struggled to see what was in front of him. Agoti focused and scrutinized the darkest depth of the hallway, seeming to stretch infinitely from where he was standing.
He looked a little harder and that’s when he dropped the only thing that could protect him. He swore he saw a figure move in the dark.
Agoti grabbed it from the ground and quickened his pace, his little feet pattering across the ground. It was enough to finally make it, his hand trembling as he knocked and didn’t dare to move the light hovering over the patch of darkness. The wait was agonizing and the more he glanced back, the more threatened he felt, like a looming presence was steadily approaching him each time he briefly looked away.
Agoti knocked harder, beating his small fist into the wooden door, crying out for his father. The demon could only hope the man would come sooner. After all, who knows what was really in this hallway?
The chamber’s only nuance within the stygian and static environment was a bizarre blue figure sitting quietly, holy light shedding from their body. The man with every rapid and accurate keystroke of his fingertips connecting with the keyboard occasionally stopped to sip his coffee. The black kind was his favorite, it being his number-one assistant in getting through the hazy nights made of nothing but raw work ethic. But if he was feeling generous, he would add some cream or sugar to it.
The man lived this lifestyle for numerous decades and it still caused him to call into question how he got here. Sure, he could recall the precise events that landed him as an Earth dweller. But they felt so surreal, it was such an abrupt shift from who he was then.
That didn’t stop him from adapting, however.
Whilst taking out another paper to file and beginning to write on it, he stopped mid-stroke of his cursive handwriting. Solazar began to think, his thoughts were interfered by a flood of memories. It was practically routine at this point for him to take time out of every day to reflect.
Solazar descended from an ancient race named the Solarisapiens, densely populated with murderous, god-like star entities. They were the next of kin from the gods themselves and what they would do struck terror throughout the universes. And after eons of bloodshed, one of them suddenly becomes a father of two. If it had been during war, his high social standing as a commander created to lead these bloody crusades would sink to the furthest level. Solazar would be looked down upon and ridiculed, distinguished with a flaw that hadn’t been noticed by their oversight; it wasn’t in their programming to care about mortals. The brutal punishment afterward was something he had only personally witnessed, but it left an impression on his fellow warriors if they dared to be so incompetent in their purpose. He did train them to be merciless and obedient, but to be reduced to such putty was a fault he held against himself. Their fate was sealed the moment their betrayal came to light. It didn’t happen often but when it did, certain procedures would be initiated.
The ceremony that took place was meant to purge the warrior of the humanity they gained, to give them a second chance. But at a cost.
The Solarisapien would have their limbs dismembered and every single one of them was catapulted out into the deepest, most treacherous parts of the universe. They may only return after regaining the members of their body, to prove their loyalty to their purpose. Those days were cruel but over, the war was ended, and while the blood on his hands had washed away, he reminds himself often they haven’t faded. Not yet at least.
Solazar was aware of the risks of fathering mortals. He had grown fond of them and their antics, he had grown to even love them. This was despite his specific design created for being an unfeeling monster, Earth somehow changed him in such a way he had the ability to love. Solazar accepted their fates a long time ago; everything would die eventually, he just wouldn’t be a part of it. For each day the sun still shines, he would cherish the chaos and laughter his children have brought into his life.
Solazar despised self-pity, but even he had to admit his own fate was the worst out of any painful way to die. He is forced to walk along this mortal plane, created to fight for all eternity, and no longer supported the reason for it, so what were his goals now? The death of his children would strip him of his purpose as a father, foraging a path down an existential crisis-
What was he doing?
There were better things to worry about.
He blinked once, snapping him out of his trance, and realized the tip of his pen left stiff by his hand accumulated a glob of ink on his sheet, leaving a noticeable stain on his pristine handwriting. Solazar rubbed his eyes, sighing deeply. He blinked again, now putting down the pen to massage his face with both of his hands.
‘Goodness that stings,’ He thought to himself.
Needle-like sensations have been shanking into his eyes for the past several hours. Staring so hard at his screen because he was so adamant about his work wasn’t healthy. Yet again, he disregarded his doctor’s warning, it was no wonder why he was farsighted. Short spurts of shut eyes did the job of replenishing his drive, so the fiery being leaned back in his chair to take a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Infinite energy meant the man didn’t sleep, so ever since he crashed onto Earth, he would spend his time running errands. Even though the specimen was quite intelligent, it landed him a not so revered job as a music manager. The man admired music, how humans were able to craft a piece made with skill and passion was a beautiful thing to him. Unfortunately, many of the clients he had to work with have proven themselves as either incompetent in their jobs or bailouts. With his constant failures, it made creating a profit difficult so he would often live paycheck to paycheck. It was just enough for his children and their home so he didn’t dwell into it.
Solazar pushed himself back to give the desk and himself some space in between them. He folded his hands together and placed the interlocked hands on his lap after crossing his leg over the other. He closed his eyes and started to softly hum, mindlessly humming to no one in the room other than himself. It helped him relax.
That’s when the former warrior was interrupted by thumping on his door.
“Hm?” He pondered aloud, looking behind him to lock eyes with the wooden door. He knew exactly who it was based on the squeamish pleads on the other side. Solazar, with steady haste, got up on his two feet and opened the door. His gaze instantly dropped to the ground to see Agoti, his youngest, at his heels. Before he could react, the small child dropped what he was holding and hugged his leg, crying.
The incomprehensible blubber sputtering through his lips caused the man’s hardened gaze to soften. Agoti looked up at him with big, glossy eyes, stretching out his little arms and grabbing at the air, beckoning the man to hold him.
“Did the storm wake you?” He spoke in a low voice and kneeled down in front of him, opening his arms to give him access to his embrace. The demon was quick to fall into his arms, bawling so hard he could hardly say a word.
He nodded quickly, “M-mhm.” the toddler whined, clutching onto his torso. “I had a... *sniff* a really bad dream.”
“So you had a nightmare?”
“Uh- *hic* huh. I was scared, Daddy. No one was there…”
His father’s eyes slit into a sympathetic gaze and pulled the demon closer into his arms, “Shhshh, it’s okay. I’m here for you.” he hushed, slowly rubbing his back.
The warmth he had ached for crowned his body in a soothing heat and his nerves strayed once his flesh made contact, reminding him of the familiar buzz that came with his father’s touch. Solazar stayed there for a while, patting the back of his head while continuing to calm him down.
The child’s shivering slowed down to a halt when his body melted from the affection. He glanced at the glowy object on the ground and picked it up with one hand, holding Agoti in his other arm.
“Ah, you used the nightlight I gave you.” He mused, inspecting the tool in his hand.
He nodded, still sniffling.
“That’s alright, I gave it to you for a reason. Do you like it?”
Agoti seemed to hesitate before nodding his head again.
He peered at him, consumed in thought before speaking up. “Maybe it could be brighter next time?”
“Mhm.” He heard Agoti mumble into his chest.
“Then I’ll look for a special one, just for you.” The Solarisapien gave him a tight side hug, which had Agoti’s face squished up against his.
The warmth he had ached for crowned his body in a soothing heat and his nerves strayed once his flesh made contact, reminding him of the familiar buzz that came with his father’s touch. Solazar stayed there for a while, patting the back of his head while continuing to calm him down.
Solazar flicked it off and left the nightlight where it was, and stood up, holding the toddler as he walked back inside his room. He closed the door behind him and sat down on his unused bed and placed the digidemon on his lap. The room had been nearly pitch black at this point, minus his blue flames and still-illuminated laptop at his desk. He reached his hand toward the nightstand to pull the string hung under the hood of the lamp and gave it a tug, now able to properly see him.
“So tell me about this nightmare of yours.” He questioned calmly, looking thoughtfully at his adopted son.
“It was the b-boys from the playground.” Agoti mewled, “T-they were h-hurting me and-” he began to cry again, recalling the terrifying dream. “They said they would hurt me if I told anyone!” The Solarisapien quietly listened to his dilemma, stroking the top of his head to calm him.
“It was only a dream, okay? Anyone who tries to intimidate our family will have to go through me first,” He said assuringly, however, Agoti didn’t take much of a liking to this.
“They sounded like monsters and were really scary! D-don’t you remember yesterday?”
Solazar did in fact remember yesterday, it was an especially terrible day for Agoti. He managed to get cornered by two older children while at the playground with his sister. They went as far as to get physical and destroyed his favorite toy in front of him. This was the first time anything like this had ever happened to him, so it gave him quite the scare. Luckily Aldryx eventually found him and terrorized them both into submission and managed to escape before any on-sight parents got involved.
Solazar admits the outcome would have been much better if he was present, his poor son came home sobbing and he had to promise to get him another toy to stop the tears. But as expected, the parents of the bullies would come to his door, complaining about their ‘innocent’ children coming home mysteriously bruised. Solazar wasn’t having any of it and proceeded to verbally rip them to shreds, insulting every part of their subpar parenting, and with a wave of his hand, dismissed them off his property.
He tried to sympathize. "I remember, Agoti, and I know it was scary, but-”
“NO YOU- *hic* don’t!” Agoti started to fuss, his cries intertwined with a hiccuping fit. He mewled after his outcry, putting his face in his hands as Solazar rubbed his back.
“I do know, Agoti.” Solazar uttered, gingerly thumbing a tear off his face, “Try to calm down, okay? Breathe for me.” he said it in the softest tone he could muster, but it barely helped.
“I tried to find you but I couldn’t!” Agoti sobbed.
As if the situation couldn’t escalate anymore, the 4-year-old began to hyperventilate. Solazar could feel his VHS heart pounding against his ribs repeatedly. At this rate, the digidemon would have a panic attack.
“They said they would- they said they would- *hic* hurt me! And you weren’t there! *sniff* I-I thought you had forgotten about me.”
This struck a chord within him. “Agoti, I would never…”
“They said they would take big sis a-away from *hic* m-mehe.” He buried his face into his chest and lamented his sorrows. “I-I don’t want y-you and A-Aldie to go!”
His father only had to think for a second to know what to do next. Agoti’s distress after a nightmare wasn’t uncommon, but this time was especially bad. Anything he said to try and soothe him was a trigger word to his panic, he would have to approach this would a lot more grace. Solazar held onto his son’s shoulders to push him back, exposing his tear-stained face to him. His fingers brushed against his cheek and with his hand, he softly caressed the smooth skin. His index finger moved beneath his chin to angle up and have their gazes link, held together by his thumb. Solazar’s pure white scleras gently stared into his wide, terrified ones.
“Breathe, Agoti. I’m not going anywhere.” There was a ring in his voice that grabbed the attention of his son, gentle but firm in his words.
The digidevil ogled obliviously at Solazar, his words quite not processing.
“Follow my lead.” he demonstrated, his chest rising and falling as breathed deeply. Agoti stared at him for a while before attempting to mimic his actions. It took some effort through all the tears but not long after, his breathing evened out and he found himself synchronizing with his father. At this very moment, the pair silently bonded as his nerves were tamed and put to rest.
The room was quiet, save for the soft breathing and gentle praises from Solazar to keep going. His method of calming the child was successful, he wasn’t crying anymore and the film was hanging loosely from his eyes. The Solarisapien plucked off a strip and peered into the black squares, seeing from his perspective the void that his child was plunged into. He tore the rest away, grazing his hand over his face and creating a small pile of film onto the carpet below them both.
Solazar wrapped his arms around him in a loving embrace and said to him. "Listen to me when I say this, Agoti, I will always be with you. There’s no way I could leave someone as sweet as you behind.”
“Really?” He sniffled, a flicker of hope flashing behind his eyes.
Solazar raised a brow at the rhetorical question. “Do I really need to answer that?”
Agoti’s soft giggle hung in the air as he was lifted into the air under his arms, spreading a smile onto the Solarisapien’s face, his eyes curving to show the affection brewing behind his glasses. “Hehe, I don’t think so?” He giggled. He was placed on his lap again, to which the digidevil snuggled into his chest, listening closely to his father.
“You don’t ever have to be afraid of me leaving you. I would never do that to you, my child.”
“You promise?” The demon whispered, peering up at him with even more hopeful eyes.
The Solarisapien’s shoulders shook as he chuckled deeply and lovingly at the silly question. “Yes, Agoti, I promise.”
He held up his pinky, eyes glistening. “Pinky promise?”
Solazar held up his own. “I promise.”
There was a moment of silence between the pair.
“I love you, Daddy.”
He pressed his cheek against his forehead affectionately. “And I love you.”
Solazar readjusted the boy, laying him into the crook of his arm, and began to gently rock him. Agoti laid still, relaxing his muscles, and ascended to a sort of heaven with the coziness the heat gave. Solazar placed his hand on top of his head again and massaged each one of his tendrils, taking his time with each one to let his son know just how much he cared about him. To send this point home, his deep voice coaxed him closer to the cliff of slumber as he once again mindlessly hummed a berceuse.
The past warrior was massive and radiated warmth, so Agoti took it upon himself to take advantage of it and used him as a heat blanket. Agoti felt more than safe, he felt loved by the man that was carrying him oh so gently. Little did he know, Solazar was already aware of his neat little trick.
He would ‘coincidently’ pass out in places he knew his father would come across, the most ludicrous spot he discovered him in was the bathroom sink. It was all a ploy for Solazar to attempt to wake him up, fail, and eventually tuck him into bed himself. His father knew from the start what he was doing, he could even feel his chest quiver with suppressed giggles, proud that his plan had worked out so many times. Sometimes he would even peek an eye open to see if Sol was giving him the attention he desired. It amused him but he couldn’t find it within himself to point out the adorable quirk.
He stood up. “Let’s get you to bed now, alright?”
Agoti went stiff and paused, shocked that they had to depart so suddenly, “Can we please stay here?” he begged.
Solazar shook his head. “No, Agoti. You need to sleep in your own bed.”
“Pleeease? I don’t want you to go…” He whined, clinging onto his shirt tighter.
“No means no, Agoti.” He understood the child’s fear but also understood the child would have to get used to the dark eventually.
The digidevil’s expression turned sour and he puffed out his cheeks. Agoti’s calm breathing began to waver and his whines were quickly escalating.
Solazar sighed. “Don’t make that face, Agoti…”
Agoti pouted even more, his expression souring by the second.
“No!” He cried.
“What-”
“I’m not leaving you!”
The toddler grabbed handfuls of his turtleneck sweater and clung to the black fabric. Solazar was sure he was gripping hard enough to where he didn’t even have to hold him if he stood up. He quickly sat down again and hugged the digidevil just in time for him to let out a loud wail onto his chest. Sobbing ensued.
‘Goodness…’ he thought to himself.
Agoti was a stubborn child, once he believed something, it took a lot of convincing to reverse the effects it had. He was grieving at the thought of his father abandoning him. He would never of course, but his son’s recent nightmare clouded his innocence with pessimism. The only logical solution would be to inflict the opposite. Make him feel good about himself, cheerful even, but with what? A warm glass of milk? Retelling his favorite stories?
Solazar’s brainstorming landed him in the middle of yesterday where this whole incident started. Of course, Agoti was still very upset but then it jumped to later in the day with his sudden change of mood, he was acting like himself and graced anyone he was with a beaming smile. He found this very strange as not too long ago, the boy was distraught and now he was back to normal. What caused such sudden optimism finally jogged his memory into remembering why…
Oh no.
In practice, it could be very effective against Agoti considering his sensitivity to touch that came with his age. It wouldn’t be very hard to dish it out. If you were to ask Solazar about performing the action, however, he would call you ridiculous.
This activity that Solazar was so unsure about was tickling.
Aldryx, his older sister, had gotten tired of Agoti’s constant moping. He would drone on about how upset he was until she couldn’t take it anymore. Aldryx chased him down, and the duo scampered all around the house loudly enough to simulate an earthquake. None of Solazar’s warnings to tone it down stopped them. Once Agoti was cornered, instead of their usual roughhousing, she ruthlessly tickled him until he agreed to stop talking about it. The Solarisapien very vividly remembers the laughter and squealing that came from behind his door.
It persisted until the deal was made official, albeit breathlessly on Agoti’s part. After that, the younger demon continued his daily hijinks like nothing had ever happened.
That was until tonight, he was still haunted by the day before. Solazar wanted to feel frustrated, all of their best efforts have led to naught and even his sister couldn’t stop it from persisting. He stopped himself once he realized what he was thinking and stopped himself in the middle of his foolish thoughts. Was he really going to insinuate a 4-year-old was at fault here? He had no one else to go to other than his family, they lived in a world where anyone could be taken advantage of, a foreign concept to Solazar. However, Agoti had just experienced this firsthand a day before. He could only imagine what it was like and felt a sudden tide of compassion for the small boy.
He wasn’t well adjusted to give physical affection despite the years they had been under his custody. Sure he would hug them and overall, tried to be the father they needed. Tickling was even rarer. Majority of the time it was unintentional and he would be left confused why his daughter or son was giggling up a storm when touching them in certain places. Sometimes it was purposeful but was brief and lasted only a few seconds as a response to his little one’s mischief with a small bit of his own. Solazar either way was apprehensive at the idea, making Agoti uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted. He heard his muffled mewl, aching with sadness and wrought with pain. Finally, the man spoke up, he couldn’t bear to see his son so distraught any longer.
His arms were already wrapped around his body which could prevent him from squirming away. Solazar didn’t have much experience with the activity but knew along the torso solicited the biggest response. He mindlessly scribbled up his side, his massive hand could reach the entire area so no part was left untouched. The reaction was immediate, Agoti gasped at the sudden touch, which didn’t stop the fit of soft but bright giggles bubbling out of him. He did it again with his other hand, causing the boy to attempt to squirm away from his hand. The next spot he didn’t expect to be targeted was his back, he traced along the center of his spine slowly. Agoti arched his back with a light squeal, finally showing his face to his loving father as he expelled a flurry of happy giggles, shivering at his gentle touch, and looked up at him, confused but smiling.
“Pahapapa, what ahare you- eheehee!” The digidevil’s query was interrupted by another wave of bubbling laughter, this time much louder. The Solarisapien was stroking up and down his back with his entire hand, each digit crawling up and down his spine like a spider. It was sending fuzzy, warm feelings in his chest, so he didn’t hold back his laughter.
“Just relax, Agoti. Let me take care of you.” He sounded suave and mellow, not helping the fact he was being held against his will. Solazar picked up the boy and laid him down on his lap, keeping his body facing up.
Agoti wiggled on his thighs, tittering with anticipation and a giddiness he hadn’t quite felt before. “Dahahahaddy! Eeeheeheehee!” The boy was giggling like he was still being tickled, which confused the Solarisapien for a moment as he hadn’t touched him yet. It made him slightly chuckle in response once he realized why he was giggling so much.
“I’m guessing it's my hands doing this to you?” His children weren’t lying when they said his flames made their skin feel funny.
“That tihihickles!” Agoti cried.
Solazar patted the top of his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll be more gentle this time.”
He resumed his tickling, mostly letting his flames do the work, and only slightly grazed his fingertips over the torso, mostly targeting his back and sides like before. This left Agoti in a never-ending snorting mess as the warmth sent shocks of ticklish sensations up his body. The digidevil was squirming from left to right, never leaving the safe spot his father had placed him. Although he secretly enjoyed it, the instinct to protect himself by wrapping his arms around his body never faltered.
“Mweheeheehee *snort* ahahahahaah!” By then, the child was face down, still giggling up a storm. Warm fingers were tracing random shapes up and down his spine, eliciting the biggest response out of the boy. Solazar’s stern expression softened, gazing at his son with admiration and delight. Making his way to his lower back, he teased the skin where the shirt rode up from all the movement. Agoti wheezed and his laughter turned silent before he returned to his hysterical fit, sounding even more childish with a hint of femininity now that his voice was so high-pitched.
The Solarisapien’s eyes thinned, the bridge of his nose wrinkling as the invisible smile returned to spread across his face. The spot seemed too much for him as much of his laughter was starting to sound too breathy, so he slowed down. He calmed down, giggles still sputtering out of him and laced with unintelligible babbles for mercy. Using the other, he began to tap the side of his ribcage, the fabric of his shirt moving as he gently dug into the bones. With the size of his hand, five fingers were able to press into his entire side of bony flesh while the other hand titillated off his back. All ten of his fingers were doing their job of keeping the boy in stitches, belly laughing with his whole heart, Solazar could feel his stomach rumble and shake with unfiltered mirth.
“AhaHahAhah mweheHEHhehe- *snort* p-pahAhaHapa!” The demon howled, slightly kicking his legs. From where Solazar was, he could see the corner of the child’s wide smile.
“Do you need a break?” He asked.
“I doohoohoo! I dohoho!” The digidevil cried.
Solazar stopped and removed his hands, giving the boy time to recover from the tickling. He wasn’t outright gasping for air, but he definitely struggled to keep it stable. Agoti flipped onto his back to rub his eyes, removing the stripes of mirth that threatened to fall out. His smile was gleeful and his cheeks were a lovely crimson tint. The aftermath was pleasant, the tingling was not only present on his torso but throughout his entire body, reaching the tip of his tendrils to the top of his toes. It left him feeling purely euphoric.
“Hehe…ehehe…” He tittered, his energy was being depleted at a moment’s notice.
“Are you alright?” The digidevil looked at him with sleepy eyes and nodded slowly. His demeanor was exhausted and tired, but his tail was curling happily at the treatment he had received. Agoti moaned softly, worming his way into his chest.
The Solarisapien, without skipping a beat, carefully scooped him up and held him close. This night was.. longer than he expected, normally Solazar would already have the toddler in bed by now. But he thinks this night was needed, for the both of them to be together. He made sure to make the transition to the corridor as smooth as possible, swiftly getting up and closing the bedroom behind him in one fluid motion. With half-lidded eyes, Agoti’s blurry vision made it hard to see, but what was quickly made apparent to him now that they were in the hallway. His father shined brighter than ever, standing out from anything else in the corridor. Solazar began his stride deeper in, his glow bouncing off the walls.
Time slowed down as the pair traveled across the rooms, they were in no rush so Solazar took his time. They had made it and his father pushed the door open where it was left agape. Solazar stepped inside and began to slide his fingertips over the wall, guiding his hand to locate the light switch. Upon contact, he flicked it to life.
Solazar grimaced and squinted hard as he rubbed the burning that returned in his eyes. It didn’t help, he really needed to take a break after this. Once his vision came into view, it made his environment finally observable.
Unsurprisingly, the room looked as it had always been, but disturbed from what he could tell from the disheveled bed sheets. The walls were painted in pastel red and blue stripes, decorated with stickers of spaceships and stars, along with the mild scribbles that Agoti had drawn all over. There was even a box of toys in the corner of the room well over the max as other ones were scattered about the carpet. The shelves were occupied with books all about his favorite things, with one dedicated solely to his stuffed animal collection. Then there was the lone rocking chair placed in the corner of the room next to the window, masked by the dusty ruby-red curtain. Solazar didn’t really need to use it since his son’s infancy but left it there for old time's sake.
He made his way to the small bed and laid the demon on the mattress. He then pinched the corner of the comforter and draped the fluffy material over his body.
Solazar deeply stared at him with a certain gaze that would only belong to a father deeply fond of his children and stood up to leave.
He looked back at him. “Sweet dreams, Agoti. Rest well.”
As his hand lifted off the mattress to make his departure, a gentle tug pulled on his sleeve.
“Um, Daddy?” He heard the meek voice of Agoti say.
Just his luck.
“Yes? What is it?” Solazar sighed, kneeling back down.
Agoti tugged at his sleeve more, gesturing Solazar to lean over so he could say something in his ear.
“Can you sing me a lullaby?” He whispered.
Solazar thought for a moment and pulled down his sleeve to look at his watch. 1:48 AM. It was already extremely late and that could lead to some trouble falling back to sleep. Thinking about it more, a lullaby made a lot more sense; it could serve as a sort of encore to their already chaotic night.
“Sure.” He says.
His skills with the piano gave him a lot of time to practice his own singing too. All too often he was interrupted and teased by his children for it. Nowadays, both of them loved to serenade in music and often joined their father.
Agoti’s eyes lit up with joy, “Yay, papa’s singing!” he rhapsodized. His previous exhaustion seemed to vanish out of thin air and was replaced with his typical energetic self. Children were…odd. One moment they could be at the edge of passing out and the next they are seen bouncing off the wall, it was funny honestly.
The Solarisapien pulled the demon out under the covers, the comforter slothing off his body in the process. Solazar held him as got up and sat down on the rocking chair. He pushed aside the curtains and spread the blinds between his fingers to peek and looked up towards the sky. He hadn’t realized the thunderstorm had passed up until now, although many thick clouds had been left behind.
“Do you hear that?” Solazar said, still looking out the window.
“Hear what?”
“The rain, do you hear it?”
Come to think of it, he didn’t hear it anymore. He hadn’t realized when it stopped.
Solazar turned his body towards his window and pulled the string attached allowing them both to see the outside completely. The numerous clouds didn’t flood the sky anymore, occasionally dripping and enriching the dark sky like a great big canvas, acting as an impromptu portière to the doorway of the waning crescent that stood on the other side. Once exposed, it filled the sky with its eternal glory.
He pulled down his glasses to get a better view. Their view of the moon didn’t waver, Solazar was especially fixated on its beauty.
This gave him an idea.
He turned to his son, fixing the prescriptions back onto his eyes. “Agoti, I want to show you something. Something extraordinary…”
The cryptic tone caught his attention.
“Like what, papa?”
Solazar leaned in. “Something enchanting I know you will like.”
There was a solid three seconds of silence before Agoti stammered out excitedly. “I-is it magic?!”
Influenced by fantasy and the like, he would answer with that. “You could say that.”
His already bright and cheery smile widened and the anticipation warping his excited nerves morphed into butterflies flapping within the bowels of his gut.
His train of thought was interrupted when something bright brimmed in his peripheral vision. He looked directly at whatever it was but immediately had to look away as it was shining so brilliantly. Agoti had to squint to make out what it was, eventually making out the shape of his father's hand, now a glowing glob of light. Solazar snapped his fingers, triggering the glow to dispel, echoing around them with such bass, it startled him.
The digidevil’s eyes were wide with alarm and he hadn’t realized he was holding in his breath, itching for something to happen. Just as he was beginning to breathe, a sound resonated that he didn’t quite expect; a twinkle. The twinkling gradually grew, crystalline diamonds manifesting and briefly ascending above them before disappearing.
His time to process what was happening was cut short after a beacon of pure light engulfed them. When Agoti opened his eyes, their surroundings were now consumed in white, the only exception being the more pasteled variant of his father. Agoti looked down at his own body to realize he looked the same and this new environment had completely changed his natural color pallet.
A breeze formed under them and seemed to push them upwards as the more the winds increased. Agoti was about to ask Solazar what was going on when he noticed himself beginning to float. It was slow and hardly noticeable but when he did, he saw the way his clothes would air around his body, similar to a blanket in the ripples of gentle wind. Or how his short tendrils became independent of just resting on his scalp.
The digidevil was hardly off his lap but after some movement, he discovered he could move around the white space like a pool of water. He had fun experimenting with this new gravity, spinning, and doing all sorts of tricks as if he were a simple lost boy, ageless but youthful. Agoti, upside down, grasped his father’s face and joyfully greeted him, “Hi daddy!” his tail curling behind him with elation.
Solazar played along, allowing him to grab onto his glasses, “Hello, my child. How are you doing tonight?” he responded warmly. While still upside down, Agoti sloppily put them on, amusing the star being into a chuckle.
“You look silly without your glasses,” He simpered.
Agoti giggled when his nose was softly booped by his finger. “I beg to differ, little one.”
There was a noticeable pickup in speed, throwing off the demon since he was already adjusted to the new atmosphere. He found it harder to move in the empty space, stuck in his now upside-down position. Solazar did the honors for him and grabbed his shoulders to pull him back to his original position.
“That will happen the closer we get to our destination, just be sure to hold on.” Solazar said after he reclaimed his glasses. The demon pressed his face against his chest with a grip on his shirt and shut his eyes. Another shockwave pulsed through them as the new wave of speed was brought upon them, moving so quickly, it felt like they were traveling at light speed. Agoti whimpered, the feeling of his shirt whipping against his body made him realize just how quickly they were traveling. He fluttered his eyes open, fearful at first but dazzled by the way Solazar’s flames burned. It possessed a fierceness that would crumble his foes to their knees, he felt inspired by it. Like a candle in a snowstorm, it was on the cusp of burning out but its tiny blaze was determined to keep the night shining.
Then it all stopped.
His ears were no longer overburdened with fast winds and chimes akin to a chandelier being spun ceased to exist. The demon didn’t dare to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see. But of course, Solazar was there to mediate his fears.
"It’s ok, you can open your eyes now.”
The way his voice sounded surprised the toddler. His soft inside voice was replaced with a resounding chime as if they had traveled inside a cave.
"I-I don’t wanna look!” He whined.
“You will be fine. It isn’t anything that will scare you.” Solazar spoke with an assuring, confident voice.
Agoti, hesitant at first, obeyed his father and barely jarred his eyes open. But through the thin window of his vision realized there was no imminent threat, which finally gave him the courage to open them both completely.
He gasped loudly and a wide grin slowly crept up his lips…
“It’s- it’s space!” He gushed, his voice booming with astonishment, “How can we breathe? Aldie said there’s no air!” shouted Agoti, unable to contain his excitement.
Solazar lightly shrugged his shoulders. "You could say I brought a bit of home here with us.” Agoti didn’t question it and was still in awe, again not realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time.
He bounced with excitement. “I’m gonna tell everyone about this!” His enthusiasm for space was really touching and Solazar was honestly very flattered by this.
“Do tell, I’m sure your sister would be delighted, but on another note,” He cleared his throat. "You might be confused about why you’re here right now, yes? ”
“A little,” he responded.
“This place is peaceful and full of wonder, somewhere I visited where I needed to clear my head. When you would have trouble sleeping at night, I would bring us here to sing to you,” He was speaking faintly but fondly as he remembered the sweet yet chaotic times when the demon was just an infant.
Agoti was quiet for a moment. “I don’t remember that?”
“You were so young, nobody would.”
He pondered and glanced down at himself to see if he still possessed his pastel palette. It was gone, replaced by a shimmery aura that bounced off both his and his father’s bodies. Continuing to look around, everything he took in was so unfamiliar. Just somewhere in the cosmos, he guessed. None of the planets were from their own solar system and neither were they in one, but the planets dispersed about were close enough for them to personally observe. Around them were a multitude of worlds ranging in all colors and sizes.
Even the suns nearby looked remotely nothing like theirs. That wasn’t the only thing there, stars were obvious but from afar did Agoti see these sort of cloud-like accumulations of colorful speckles. Nebulas of course! He remembered that from the books he read with his sister and would definitely have a story to tell once morning arrived.
He looked to see his father gazing up at the space, eyes glinting with fascination.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
Agoti’s quick babble was all he needed to know he agreed with him.
“What’s that star over there?” Agoti questioned, pointing to one particular star. It wasn’t like the other ones where they glowed a color that would be anomalous to their solar system. It was anomalous to every sun around it, aqua blue and yellow swirled within its core like a cauldron having its contents stirred, its surface shining a seafoam green. Despite the bizarre coloring, it fascinated Agoti and he was instantly entranced by its alluring appearance.
“I’m not sure. Do you like it?” He asked.
“Yeah! Can we name it?” The boy was enthused, standing up to get a better view.
Solazar kept him steady by planting his hands on his hips, for a few moments, he thought of a name for this unknown star. “Maybe Cerulean would be a good name? It goes well with the blue.”
“It’s perfect!”
There was always something new to see no matter where he looked. His adoptive father could indeed relate to this feeling.
Agoti for the next several minutes pointed out every detail and squealed over each new discovery to his father. He let him rant about it, he would get tired eventually. And as if on cue, a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. The digidevil felt his eyelids get a little heavy and his body’s muscles began to go limp at an unprecedented rate. He plopped back down before leaning back into his body.
“Dad I’m…tired,” He said in between a loud yawn.
Solazar pressed a finger to his intangible lips. “Shhh~ You’ve been awake long enough, close your eyes.”
Agoti’s eyelids succumbed to its weight, quicking shutting close.
“That’s it, just listen to my voice… ”
He lightly brushed his knuckles against his hair. He knew just the song to sing and looked forward to finally bringing his boy peace, just as he did all those years ago. Solazar's deep voice became smooth as he commenced his serenade, sounding much more divine as his cords echoed despite the heavens they were in being devoid of oxygen.
♪ Come little children
♬ I’ll take thee away
♩ Into a land of enchantment
♩ Come little children
♪ The time’s come to play
The digidevil was immediately dragged into a state of calm, helped by the Solarisapien who sang so handsomely. His carol fills the quiet around them.
Follow sweet children ♩
I’ll show thee the way♩
Through all the pain ♫
And the sorrows ♪
Weep not poor children ♫
For life is this way ♩
Murdering beauties and passions~ ♪
Agoti began to stir when he saw something bright form behind his eyelids and opened them just a tad. He witnessed their surroundings suddenly filled with glowing figures of the sort.
His vision cleared just enough to recognize that it was musical notes materializing. They danced in the air, reminding Agoti of the copies of sheet music he’d seen his father playing. They were blue like his dad and seemed to serve some sort of purpose with his solo, playing the instrumental to the song for further auxiliary.
“Papa, wass tha’?” He slurred, his speech ruined with spittle and weariness.
“This is one of the many gifts I was given when I came to exist.” Solazar stopped singing to answer his question.
“You yourself will be blessed one day,” he rubbed the back of his head with his hand, “Now then, try to go back to sleep.” his voice was rumbling with how low he was speaking.
♬ Hush now dear children
♩ It must be this way
♩ Too weary of life
♪ And deceptions
♫ Rest now my children
♬ For soon we’ll away
♪ Into the calm and the quiet
A symphony of woos slowly began to reveal themselves and surround them, varying in pitch and length, all were quite feminine voices but there was an underlying manly voice behind their delicate chorus. Agoti could start to see figures of people fading in above and around them. They appeared to be the same species as his father. None of them had their entire body showing, ending around the waist, and faded into faint sparkles as the outline of their bodies connected like constellations. One stood out, the man behind the guttural singing and the biggest out of them all, muscular and imposing yet seemingly at peace. The notes pranced around the duo, moving accordingly in a hypnotic fashion. Solazar wasn’t lying when he said this was highly effective. The honeyed voice dripping with affection singing the sweet song in his ear and enchanted infinity called space took a toll, succeeding in shutting his eyes permanently. He could no longer see the forms of the ancient race or the notes as he had finally fallen asleep.
Come little children…♫
I’ll take thee away…♪
Into a land of enchantment…♩
Come little children… ♬
The time’s come to play…♪
“Here in my garden of shadows ♪”
The ancient species sang one last beautiful chorus, singing with more vigor and more passion at the sight of the mortal child resting in his caretaker’s arms. They were merely souls, however, apparitions of warriors who faded eons ago, forever roaming the cosmos in silence.
The notes faded away, along with the spirits who had long since perished, leaving him alone with his son. Solazar sighed and relaxed his shoulders. He wanted to admire the sight of his beautiful boy one more time, he stood out among all the beauty that surrounded them. But was unfortunately interrupted by their aura beginning to dull. Solazar pulled up his sleeve to quickly look at the time, reading 2:27.
They had overstayed their visit, it was time to go home.
Before the aura could fizzle out, he had already snapped his fingers to send them home. Everything from before happened in reverse order, catapulting them to the ground. Agoti somehow remained asleep, a soft smile gracing his already darling expression. Solazar would love to bask in it but was too busy holding onto dear life, keeping the chair's armrest well clutched and silently praying the seat wouldn’t crash.
Once that beacon of light had collapsed and revealed the carpet floor of his room, Solazar braced. Shockingly, the chair bounced off the floor with ease, launching them both in the air before going down again. The momentum knocked them forward hard and fast, so hard he nearly face-planted into the floor but digging his foot in the ground stopped it. Solazar’s eyes were wide and when he looked down at the small boy; he was somehow in a deep sleep.
Solazar stared at his sleeping face, his gaze fueling the core inside of him to swell. A wet line of saliva was leaking from the corner of his slightly agape mouth and he gingerly wiped away the spittle with his thumb. Words couldn’t describe how he was feeling, he just wanted to preserve the scene.
The ancient being stood up from the rocking chair holding him in one arm, using his other to pull back his comforter and prepare the area for his son. Slowly and gently, he laid the digidevil in the empty spot and covered his body over the sheet. He snuggled into the warmth, stretching before falling still back to his sleep. He grabbed his teddy bear and tucked it in next to him. He witnessed him leisurely pull it closer to him. The Solarisapien stood over him and bowed his head.
He took a seat on the corner of his bed, creaking as his weight pressed down on the bolts holding it together. Solazar reached for his face but was stopped by Agoti’s tendrils, who somehow sensed his presence and curled the short hair around his hand sweetly. How long he sat there he didn’t know, but eventually, he knew it was time for his son to sleep alone.
His hand was already on the doorknob and he swung it open before exiting. Outside his room, Solazar couldn’t have felt more relieved and slid his back down the wall before his bottom met the wooden floor. He leaned his head against the wall and took off his glasses, rubbing them against his turtleneck sweater, getting rid of specks that were a nuisance to his vision.
Then he heard it.
A creak not from his own doing.
He turned to his right and saw a pair of disembodied eyes staring at him from the darkness. The creature stepped forward.
It was Luna, the family cat. She was immediately purring and rubbing up against Solazar’s legs and accepted being scratched behind her ears.
“Hello, Luna.”
Luna meowed and rubbed up against him, her black fur felt soft against his legs.
“Why don’t we go relax?”
She meowed, signaling her approval.
With the sun creeping up the horizon, it cast red and yellow clouds in the sky as a new day began. Birds sang their melody of dawn, golden light striking the green trees. Tiny flecks danced around the digidevil’s bedroom while gold luster brightened the room. He did not stir, Agoti had never slept so well in his life, the blanket felt so warm and the pillow was soft enough to melt into. The only thing he could hear was his soft snoring and the chirping of birds. He could stay here forever.
Agoti felt a dip further down his bed, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. It was too perfect to ruin this moment.
“Son, it’s time to get up.” Solazar’s voice was nearly in a whisper. His son was a light sleeper, it didn’t take much to wake him up.
He groaned and rotated his body, encasing himself in more of his soft blanket. “Too shleepy…”
Agoti believed he had won and breathed deeply into the layers, taking in their fresh scent. He was left sorely mistaken however once he felt something move under his comforter and attempt to grab him. His father was trying to pick him up out of his bed and he wouldn’t let that happen.
“Nurrr…” Agoti mewled, burrowing deeper into the sheets, dodging the hands trying to grasp him.
“Are you not going to get up?”
“Nuh-uh.” He pouted, upset his morning slumber had been interrupted.
Solazar was silent for a moment.
“Suit yourself.”
What he did next was something he hadn’t seen coming, catching him off guard greatly as two hands tweaked his sides. Solazar systematically targeted his torso, following his son’s every moment so he could never escape and was always first to prod away at his body. Agoti tried to suppress them at first but the laughter piling in his chest was getting harder to ignore. The barrier broke and he let out a flurry of bubbling giggles, doing his best to squirm away from his father’s wrath.
“Agoti, you know how to stop this.” He heard him say but didn’t relent, he really needed his sleep!
“Nohohoho!” The demon cried, encasing himself under the covers to protect himself, which only left him more vulnerable. Solazar proceeded to tickle up and down his son’s torso at random, never giving him a chance to get used to the sensation before moving again. It had a significant effect on his dear boy, who by now made it obvious with his sputtering laughter and silly little snorts in between. Agoti still persisted but still made no effort to bargain with his father.
Sol could clearly see he had inherited his own stubbornness. But what he didn’t have was patience and his father for all he knew could be here all day if he wanted, gently tormenting his boy until he gave in. But with their limited time, it wasn’t possible and he aimed for the final blow. Searching under the cover a bit and eventually landing on what he was looking for, his digits wiggled wildly all over.
Agoti shrieked and the thrashing increasing under the covers indicated he had found what he was looking for.
“Not my rihihihihibs!” The digidemon cried from under the sheets. With all his thrashing, it finally led up to Agoti wrestling the comforter off of him, finally releasing himself from his hiding place. He pushed at his hands, laughing brightly.
“Are you going to get up?” Sol asked, continuing his ministries as the digidevil giggled for mercy.
“Yehehehes pahahapa!” His laughter became girlish as the tickling continued.
His exterior remained hardened and stern, but on the inside, he struggled to keep up the facade.
“And I won’t have to return to your room and do this again, yes?”
A squeal was ripped out of Agoti’s throat once his lower ribs were targeted, warm fingers glazing over his clothed skin.
“Yehehes dahahaddy! I prohohomise!” He didn’t have to wiggle around much longer as Solazar had ceased his playful punishment.
Agoti hugged himself once his hands pulled away and giggled as the residual ghost tickles slowly sunk into his bone, fading into his skin feeling stimulated and sensitive. From all the laughing he had been doing, he thought he would be exhausted. Strangely enough, all of his fatigue from earlier ceased to exist and he felt rather energized.
The Solarisapien adjusted the glasses on his face. “I’ll start cooking breakfast then. How do pancakes sound?”
Agoti’s face lit up in excitement, pancakes were his favorite. “Yeah!”
“You think you can get dressed on your own?”
“Mhm!” He hummed excitedly, looking forward to the flavor of fluffy, buttery pancakes by his father.
“That’s my boy.” He ruffled his tendrils and left the demon to his devices, giving him the well-needed privacy to get dressed. As he left the door behind him ajar, Agoti got to work and directed his path toward his dressers.
He found the perfect t-shirt and while he struggled to clip on his overalls at first, he succeeded and slipped on a pair of socks before escaping his room through the considerately cracked door. Agoti ran out into the kitchen, finding his beloved family and the delicious wafts of butter circulated the air and satisfying crackles of oil smelling of grease got him excited.
If there was anything better in the mornings, it was the sight of bacon and his father’s famous pancakes. His sister and father had their backs turned to him, all focused on the stove as the former warrior instructed his daughter on making the pancakes. Aldryx seemed frustrated but as usual, their father was patient, guiding his child through the steps until she cheered for joy at her successful pancake. It was only then the pair noticed the youngest’s presence that they turned to warmly greet him.
“Nice to see you joined us this morning, Agoti. You look well.” Solazar hummed, drinking from a mug and wearing a chef’s apron.
Aldryx looked and grinned at her little brother, revealing all her sharp sets of teeth to the toddler. She was sitting on the counter, holding a bowl of batter and wearing her signature pink nightgown and pink slippers, swinging her legs in blissful innocence. Even Aldryx was excited at the sweet breakfast the two were going to have.
The flaming male beckoned the smaller child forward and hoisted him up, only this time to place him on his shoulders. Agoti’s legs were twigs compared to the tree trunk equivalent of his neck and when he wrapped his legs around it, they fit perfectly around the nape, giving the toddler the perfect amount of support.
“Would you like to help us make breakfast?” He asked calmly, slightly turning his head to make eye contact with the boy on him.
“Uh-huh!” Agoti was bouncing up and down as he was brought closer to the stovetop. He was struck with the delicious smells of both foods cooking, even more, potent now that he was closer. Solazar did the same with Agoti as he did with Aldryx, slowly teaching him his ways while lightly scolding him if he ate the raw batter. Time slowed down and the household was filled with laughter and chaos as their hijinks persisted.
All of a sudden, Agoti stopped, still holding the spatula. “Daddy, can we eat now? I’m hungry.”
Solazar nodded his head. “I suppose so, go sit down and I’ll bring your plates out to you.”
“Yay!” Both cried in unison, Aldryx jumped off the counter and scampered off with her little brother, who was already climbing up to his booster seat. Dishes clattered and cabinets opened here and there and soon enough, Solazar was walking toward them with their food. They both said their thanks as their father placed the plates with the appropriate silverware in front of them, the duo donning beaming smiles before digging in. Their father sat down with them, but stayed quiet, silently watching them gulp down their food with half-lidded eyes.
Hardly any time had passed and the two children were already begging for another helping. The Solarisapien obliged, picking up their plates yet again to go into the kitchen where the rest of the food lay warm. Unfortunately, in the Entity household, it was never short of calamity. Aldryx and Agoti were already beginning to goof off at the dinner table, flinging specks of food caught by their placemats at each other back and forth. Both were quietly snickering, doing their best to not attract his attention and ducking under the table as a shield against each other’s attacks.
Solazar came back with their second meal and wasn’t surprised at the scene, their faces were peppered with leftover pancake and grease from their bacon. He stared at them and just smiled, placing the plates back down in front of them.
“Enjoy your breakfast, children.”
Needless to say, it was a great morning.
He wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Fin~
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signor-signor · 1 year
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WOY Haikus - Season 1
Lord Hater appears. / Wander’s here to save the day. / Let the games begin.
A doom dragon fight. / There’s an egg far from the nest. / Stay strong, Sylvia.
Two villains compete. / One wish per millennium. / Mustard or mayo?
Watchdogs everywhere. / The duo must evade them. / Refrain from helping?
One good deed gone wrong. / It happens, like, four more times. / End in the right place.
Peepers has one job. / Capture Wander or get shocked. / Tour of the Skullship.
An abandoned ship. / Savage creature on the loose. / He gets a new home.
Out of orbble juice. / Doomstone is where you’ll find more. / No need to blend in.
The Baa-hallans’ feast. / Retorts make the Troll grow big. / His words don’t matter.
What is in the box? / Wait until we get to Glen’s. / It’s really a test.
Wander’s big green hat. / Only gives you what you need. / Sylvia gets it.
Meet Private Westley. / Has a hard time catching up. / The weather changes.
Three bounty hunters. / Peepers wants all the credit. / Torture megamix.
Ballzeria 9. / Beware of humongous dog. / Face your fears head on.
Sir Bradley Starlight. / Based his life on fairy tales. / Will he get a grip?
Lord Hater’s birthday. / Doom arena, source of fun. / Time to crack a smile.
Orbble pump station. / Thunder Blazz to quench the thirst. / This may take a while.
Sylvia racing. / Competition makes her fierce. / Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock-BOOM.
Captured before dawn. / Wander’s a heavy sleeper. / Get past the Watchdogs.
Let Sylvia sleep. / Nature’s sounds, please be quiet. / Is this déjà vu?
Thousand-year-old queen. / Villains seek greater power. / Sandwiches are served.
Trudi Traveler. / Been to all sorts of places. / She’s really cheating.
Sentient planet. / Takes a liking to Wander. / Oh, the obsession.
Conquering Flendar. / This calls for a thought-out plan. / Wander will butt in.
Emperor Awesome. / His music is destructive. / Time to outdance him.
In a shopping mall. / Giant baby boy is lost. / Where are his parents?
Wander finds a sock. / We have to find the owner. / This will be risky.
A door to the void. / Anything can happen here. / Don’t neglect your friend.
Stood up on a date. / Dinner and a carnival. / Save L’Amoria.
Hard times for Hater. / Trapped with Wander and tough guys. / Pretend to be pals.
There’s an eruption. / A mother bird with three chicks. / Get them out safely.
A ragged kitty. / Wander wants to take her home. / She’s not what she seems.
A team of rebels. / Someone has to guard the door. / How hard can it be?
Okeydokia. / No one there needs any help. / What’s Wander to do?
Hater’s in a slump. / Peepers tries to cheer him up. / Van ride to fun times.
Villain and hero. / They both have a common foe. / One hides and two seek.
Sylvia’s old friend. / More action, more adventure. / Don’t forget Wander.
Serial gifter. / Brings happiness to Watchdogs. / Don’t let him get me!
Gifter’s perspective. / Nice will make naughty think twice. / Slarnian greetings.
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sincericida · 1 year
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ANDREW GARFIELD and "Tick Tick BOOM!" cast in photoshoot for Harper Bazaar.
(source)
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vintagelasvegas · 5 years
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Las Vegas Park Race Track, 1953
The track went bust after just 13 days of live racing in 1953, a failure of what was intended to marry the Las Vegas gambling and entertainment destination with the Thoroughbred racing boom. The site later became Las Vegas Country Club, Westgate, Regency Towers, and part of Las Vegas Convention Center.
Joe Smoot founded Las Vegas Park in ‘49, and acquired 750 acres from the estate of Leigh S. J. Hunt at $750/acre. The architects were Arthur Froehlich and Paul R. Williams. Construction began in summer of ‘50, and by the following year the business was bankrupt.
Smoot pleaded not guilty to a grand jury embezzlement indictment. In federal court, failing to produce receipts or canceled checks for $500,000 in missing money, he said: “You ever try to pay a politician with a check?”
Las Vegas Jockey Club, a new corporation headed by Lou Smith and Al Luke, emerged as the new owner and operator in early 1953. The park opened September 4, 1953. Their only season was married by faulty ticking and betting equipment. The stables were vacated in Oct. ‘53. Joe W. Brown bought the track following its second bankruptcy.
• Photos of Las Vegas Park Race Track
Las Vegas Turf Club was the second organization to use the track for horse racing. Their Dec. ‘54 season had poor attendance, as low as 400. Ten years later in ‘64 & 65, Las Vegas Park was used for the last time for Nevada Racing Association’s Thunderbird Downs. (The name Thunderbird Downs was also used for the half-mile track a short distance away at the Thunderbird Hotel.)
Throughout the 50s, the track – alternately known as Joe W. Brown Race Track – was also used for convention events and automobile racing: American Automobile Association Championship (‘54), NASCAR Grand National Championship (‘55), and the USAC Grand Prix (‘59). It was the race track seen in the movie “Viva Las Vegas.”
Part of the property was sold to Clark County in ‘57 for the construction of the Convention Center. Joe W. Brown’s estate sold the remaining property to National Equities Inc. in ‘65 for the creation of what became Las Vegas Country Club. National Equities sold some 60 acres to Kirk Kerkorian for The International Hotel; 20 acres to Clark County for an expansion of the Convention Center; the southeast section was saved for what would be come Regency Towers.
• Video: construction and opening of Las Vegas Park in 1953
Photos: Las Vegas News Bureau; Keeneland Library Thoroughbred Times.
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Sources. Work to Begin on Las Vegas Park Stand. Review-Journal, 5/26/50; B. Dow. “Sports Snorts.” Review-Journal, 7/21/50; Vegas Park Story of Accomplishment. RJ 9/4/53; Big Car Race. Review-Journal, 5/23/54; Vegas Race to Preview 500 Dash? Review-Journal, 11/7/54; Sad Ending: Turf Club Scratched. Review-Journal, 12/6/54; Vegas Track Mark of 95 MPH Might Fall Under Stocks. Review-Journal, 10/16/55; Home Show Opens Tonight at the Race Track. Review-Journal, 6/12/57; 250-Mile Grand Prix Set for Vegas Today. Review-Journal, 11/29/59; J. Price. “A Dream of Horse Racing that became a Nightmare.” The Nevadan, 2/6/66; R. Miech. A sad saga: horse racing in Las Vegas. Las Vegas Sun, 4/29/2008; J. Lowe. The lavish Las Vegas racetrack that went bust in 13 days. Thoroughbred Racing, 2/25/2019; J. Warren, 2021. The Path of the Shield.
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