#thank goodness there's a wiki dedicated to the lore <3

[wineaunt420]

I am interested in Oilslick lore now

EEEEEEEEEEEEE

Ok this is gonna be one hell of a post because it's just gonna be one huge info splurge of cannon Oilslick stuff and stuff I and others have created for him (I LOVE BRAINWASHING PEOPLE INTO LOVING MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS TEE HEE)

Ok so, Oilslick as we all know is a chemist that works with team chaar as their chemist (Ovi) he is the creator of Cosmic Rust and the reverse engineering virus which we see in one of the comics create the wrecker team. He also created Toxitron which is so cool. What I found most cool in in the allspark almanac we see that Oilslick had relations with a wrecker that was a white and blue version on blackout, basically. We can see that they were very close friends and possibly had a relationship?? From what Oilslick wrote about him. We also know that he was the first guy to knock Ratchet into next Thursday in the Issue #3 of the arrival comics before lockdown.

An old account that doesn't post anymore made a suggestion that Oilslick used to be a construction bot before he was a chemist, like way before the war and I thought that was quite a cool headcanon. I love his and Scalpels relationship, two crazy science guys doing crazy science together. I love that his Wiki says he has a "pretty face" which could suggest that Oilslick is quite attractive for a transformer (WHICH I AGREE WITH) So in terms of that we can take that Cybertronians do have a kind of beauty standard, what that is I don't know but I guess it could be like an interesting and unique body shape and sleek, interesting facial features and optic colours because Oilslick does have quite a special mold with his large nose and green optics (I'm using his toy design for reference here)

Speaking of his toy design, if you didn't know Oilslick was originally a toy exclusive character to begin with but the directors liked him so much they put him in the show. He was going to be introduced earlier into tfa like s2 and was originally going to be Prowls enemy but that role inevitably went to Lockdown. In the almanac it's said that Oilslick was originally also learning Circuit Sue and apparently trained with prowl but Cyclonus said he believed it was a lie due to Oilslick's deceptive nature. Which is crazy to say considering they are all Decepticons, what makes Oilslick so much more deceptive than everyone else 🤣🤣 he must have one slippery tongue.

Also I've seen alot of headcanons that he has his own little room on team Chaars ship just dedicated to all kinda of different plant species, cuz although he is best as chemistry he still loves the other respective Sciences. He'd probs call them his little plant babies and they would probably over run the whole ship at some point because he takes such good care of them they just start growing like wild (Queue Strika tripping over a ridiculously large vine or something).

There is so much more I wanna say but I don't wanna complete bombard you with a total geek out lmao because this post is already pretty hefty as it is 😭🤣

THANK YOU FOR THE OILSLICK ASK (And an excuse to geek out) 💖💖💖

[rinisasaki]

Welcome!

My name is Anah, I'm a married person with one child whom I love dearly! When I'm not spending time with my family, I'm almost permanently glued to my computer doing something Naruto related. I've been in the fandom for over 20 years, halp.

I'm not a professional but I love writing and drawing. And it's usually about either my Naruto OC, Rini. Or about Sasori. I love Sasori A LOT.

Anyway, here's links and more info below!

Note: Anything from before 2024 is no longer relevant to Rini or her story.

About This Blog

This Tumblr is dedicated to my obsession with Naruto and my Naruto OC, Rini.

Mun: Anah. Adult. Libra. INFJ.

Muse: Rini. 25. Libra. ENFP.

Socials:

Instagram || Twitter || Naruto OC Wiki

Tumblr Short Links:

My Art or Edits || Rini Headcanons || Rini Specific Art || Rini's Information ||

FAQs

1. Do you RP?

I can! Please send me an ask with a prompt and your preferred RP style and I'll gladly reply. I'm not a good writer just a warning! I do all of this for funsies. <3

2. Do you take art commissions?

Yes! Please see this link here: Carrd Link with my other socials attached as well!

3. Pronouns?

She/Her or They/Them.

4. What do you use to draw?

Photoshop and Clip Studio Paint.

5. Any other fandoms?

Although I love other anime, this blog strictly is for my Naruto OC Rini and her lore. So I'm only involved in the Naruto Community. At times I'll draw Rini and some Naruto characters as if they were in other anime though! For fun. :D

May update this as I think of more stuff???

For now, thanks for reading. :)

[ask-homestuck-rolepay-v413]

Riperto here asking the support team this... How do you feel about the amounts of people who continuously blabber on about lore to a game this majestic, said lore being kept on a wiki to which it's currently having a youtube project in production and also a whole different game?

ummm hi riperto me and gir have talked about it and i cant speak for silly but i think its cool having fanprojects based on a roblox game... its a little like idk. i think its cool people make up their own lore for their rps and shit. i think theres at least 3 rps i know of like that??? i count your stuff in that idk if youd call it that though. ummmm other than that idrk what else to say... good luck on your movie?? the amount of dedication you have to this is wild... a movie and a game? one of those .fandom wikis and like original music and shit.. idk its a lot for a little roblox game ^_^ always has felt kinda weird seeing fan stuff centered explicitly around the game .. like ooh its a roblox game made with one of the twmplate worlds and a homestuck morphset and its just had three years to grow............... three years......... its been so long .. okay sorry thanks for the ask i will stop

[hungnitan]

EXPOSE "Labyrinth Warriors" STORY PART 2

Screenshot came from wiki as I'm pretty lazy took every scene (lol)

Different at Liyue, Traveler kinda apathetic to Tartaglia and likewise

I read one analyst about why Traveler bother explore the domain alongside Tartaglia as they taste a bit of Fatui's wickedness thanks to Scaramouche. Even it's all because of Paimon recklessness it's still doesn't feel right if you think as Traveler...

And it feels like those two aside Paimon conversation like strangers different at Liyue while they just suspect at each others. Why ?

Remember you hear Tartaglia called us "comrade" in this event so far ? Nope, only once and it's not even calling us

Have you read Traveler ever talk to Tartaglia "directly" so far ? Only once and it's very short answer

My best guess is Traveler openly hate Fatui now and of course Tartaglia already know Inazuma situations so far know friendly talk aren't going to work anymore...

Shiki Taishou perception as weapon

from this line I 100% sure this event really dedicated to Tartaglia as those really fit him. He always see himself as weapon for Tsaritsa and do every suicide mission flawlessly (refer at his character line)

If we still get to see him until Snezhnaya I would like to see his own choice, to believe until the end then died or betray his creator... Then again this only happened if he don't get killed after this event (lol)

Tartaglia mental problem (?)

We should know by now, Tartaglia doesn't bother about what's right or wrong as long he keep slashing everyone (lol) I often saw this kind of person at other anime, the one won't bother distinguish good or bad and believe their own idea is best one... Usually that person get betrayed by their believed one or no one helped them at past

My guess that happened after he get out from abyss, everyone shocked by his sudden change then his father say something he shouldn't have and finish it with sending him to Fatui (from his character line, he respect his father as adventurer).

Well, I wanna say soo many analyst about his mental problem but my english isn't going to cover them all (lol)

Is Kamuna Harunosuke a bad person here ?

First of all, let's start with who's Kamuna Harunosuke that keep mentioned in this event story... to put in simple he's onmyouji that learn adeptus art to Liyue lived around Catalytsm age so human roughly from 500 year ago... Nothing explain around his time at Liyue but he descripted as easy going person by Kitsune Saiguu and one of Yougou Three that keep mentioned in Inazuma lore (the other two are Mikoshi Nagamasa and Asase Hibiki). We all know about Hibiki by Neko and what happened at Seirai while for Mikoshi you need to read weapon lore (Katsuragiki Nagamasa)

So I think 99% chance of him isn't doing any bad purpose in this event, he feels to me as someone only thirst for new power like someone we know but in safe way lol

Part 3 depend if there's material to talk~

[evienyx]

As someone who is in the process of writing an ATLA fic, I wanted to know. How do you keep track of things you want to write? Plot points? Have you created a time line? Do you have any site you visit for the atla world's dates and such? I have so many things on my mind for my fic and I feel like I need to be super organized for them to end up making sense once I finally write them down. Thank you!

Okay, so I have a few things that I do for Fractures when it comes to writing the fic overall.

First of all, I, of course, have a separate folder in my fanfic folder in google docs just for Fractures. Within the Fractures folder, I have a bunch more for things like chapters, outlines, character bios, etc.

I’ve got one special document dedicated to writing down all the lore that I’m changing or that I’ve made up for my fic.

I’ve got one document with a large overview of the entire thing, as in main plot points, etc. I have another just dedicated to smaller things that are ‘for sure’ happening. I have small outlines for each coming book and a larger one for Book 1, since that’s the active one. I also outline each individual chapter, no matter how messily, just to make sure I know where I’m going.

When it comes to info on the ATLA world, such as cuisine, animals, dates, military, etc., I tend to use the ATLA Fandom Wiki. That’s always a good one to go to.

Here’s the cool thing about fanfiction, though: you can just have fun with it. You’re not doing it for money or anything. You’re writing it cause you wanna write and you wanna sure it with others and you wanna have fun. You do not need to go over the top with anything, here. Just enjoy yourself!

Good luck! I believe in you!

<3

-Evie

[scgdoeswhat]

Unpacking The Elementalists Finale

I’d like to dedicate this to my dear Kane anon (and other TE anons) who have been hitting my ask box up for the last several months. I’m sorry this took forever to get out and I know it doesn’t ease the fact that they ixnayed Kane, but hopefully this makes a little more sense of TE’s abrupt ending.

Without further ado...

I’ve been wanting to make this post since Book 2 Chapter 10, but life has been hectic. TE’s finale finally forced my hand and so here I am, with a bunch of theories, points, and thoughts I've had noted since the book came back from its hiatus. First off, now that TE is officially over (😭) we now know that the hiatus was primarily used to tie up all the loose story lines and to give us a tidy ending. The writing in the second half of the book was more solid, concise, and had a clear cut vision of what the writers wanted and where the plot was headed. As much as I hate to say it, the first half of the book may have been overly ambitious. They introduced the Moral Compass, potentially two villains in Kane and Alma, and a plethora of different storylines. I had a number of people tell me through the first five/six chapters of Book 2 that they were confused with the plot because it became too convoluted and hard to follow along. I think they introduced too many elements into the story, which dragged down the arc. Let’s break down some of these individually: The Moral Compass was something we were all excited to see implemented, because it gave us the potential to be an evil MC. In the end, we know it didn’t make much of a difference, save for dialogue and/or violent options. I think this was originally something intended to be greater than what it amounted to, and part of it is the limitations of the medium that the app is and simply, resources. This also ties into…. The plot involving Kane and Alma. I don’t believe having Kane as the Big Bad was supposed to be as defined as it ended up being. The two Sources were written far more ambiguous in the beginning, with the chance that depending on your choices, you could side with either one by the end of the book and/or series. The hiatus streamlined the plot, discarding elements that were difficult to pull off, including multiple MC point of views that may have held the possibility of being evil or choosing Kane, therefore placing Alma as the antagonist. In a narrative story app such as Choices (as opposed to Lovestruck, where the routes have the same players but different stories altogether), I just don’t think this advanced storytelling would have been doable. These plots are primarily linear, and MC being evil/with Kane/etc, it would present a different set of problems, including the fact that this becomes an entirely different story while there is supposed to be one solid ending. (For what it's worth, I enjoy the MC customizability of Choices more.) Looking at the group of friends, obviously Beckett was incredibly fleshed out while the others were not as much. I wanted to delve further into our friends’ backgrounds a bit more, and I think at the beginning of the book, we were on that path. Aster and her wood nymph family was a perfect example of table setting. We had two or three scenes before the hiatus to go to the forest, and I thought the Wand Wars and their involvement against Kane was slated to be more prominent. I think the writers had something bigger planned, but how would it all tie in if players started choosing the evil choices? Again, having too many choices causes a domino effect that makes it nearly impossible to navigate when the story is supposed to end with a particular goal in mind. The chapter where we can receive the wand was a symptom of ending the book early and I think the execution of the actual Wand Wars scene was lacking the emotional punch the initial introduction of it warranted. This is unfortunate because the setup they had in Book 1 made it seem much more violent, disastrous, and full of hate compared to what was shown (i.e. Attuned just being greedy bastards). We were introduced to Shreya's Serene & Sublime business and the potential of family disapproval and lack of support in the beginning, but everything was tied up with the gala chapter. Looking back, I was curious why it was so easy to get so many financial backers this early into the series, but knowing that TE only went for two books makes much more sense why we knew whether S&S succeeded or failed. (Tangent - for anyone who didn't secure backing, is S&S successful at the end of the book?) I think Griffin, his scholarship, and his decision between Natural Sciences and Thief was also slated to be a bigger subplot. We never met his parents, despite them being brought up very early in Book 1. If TE had gone the originally planned three or four books, I have no doubt his family would've been introduced and MC would have needed to help sway his parents (and the committee for the scholarship) whether Griffin continued on the NS or professional Thief path. Doing the Griffin scenes (even as platonic friends) influenced his standing for the scholarship and not doing them made him lose out to Amy, if I'm not mistaken. Question for everyone regarding Zeph and the Thief captaincy: Does he get it in everyone's playthrough? I wonder if the writers always planned for Zeph to get the captaincy or if Griff would have kept it depending on your playthrough if they had all four books to use. Another big plot point that resolved itself out of nowhere was Atlas and MC butting heads over their Sun Source mother. I was not a fan of this storyline at all. I felt like the disagreements between the siblings was unnecessary drama that came off as forced. They tried to explain Atlas' position, and I understood where they were coming from, but Atlas was very unreasonable with their constant “who cares about mom” shtick.

I think this was something that could have been more impactful if there weren't so many plotlines happening and more focus could have been given to it instead of a few screens of Atlas saying they were pissed off before storming away from MC. This was also a plotline that was directly influenced by the Kane/Alma decisions. If MC sides with Kane, it makes much more sense for MC and Atlas to be against each other as opposed to MC being good/siding with Alma.

Five major subplots were opened, but how do you seamlessly weave these elements into a 17-19 chapter book? In my opinion, you can't. Each time something new was introduced, I felt things were glossed over, despite big chunks of chapters being focused on whichever subplot the chapter was about. Throw in the romance and I think it is nearly impossible to resolve each aspect in a complete manner.

What also hurt was the pacing of the series. This was also seen in Book 1, where sometimes a chapter would span one or two days, only for a huge time jump to occur in the next chapter.

So many ideas could have been explored through the course of four books (which is what I believe they had planned), but all the different elements should have been introduced at different times. Instead, Book 2 was an amalgamation of so many ideas but not enough time, space, or resources to thoroughly hash out and have a satisfactory resolution. For what it’s worth, I don’t think it was having too much Beckett that hurt the series. He obviously kept the series afloat and was one of PB's biggest moneymakers in recent history. Despite the constant complaints on tumblr, people fail to realize that the ENTIRE online fandom (FB, IG, Twitter, Tumblr, Reddit, Wiki) comprises maybe 0.5% - 2% of the ENTIRE player fan base. It only made sense that PB capitalized on him because their numbers dictated that the resources should be spent in that manner. The fallout from this was that Beckett was the only one who had his storyline relatively complete, and that was due to the spending power of everyone who romanced him. I think what hurt them the most was the multiple storylines and the indecision of which direction they wanted to go. They had a grand idea of the direction through Book 2 (and Book 3, let’s not lie here) but in-game mechanics and the type of game Choices is made it difficult to pull off. The app wasn’t the correct medium for what they envisioned. In my opinion, the overall story arc had the potential to be brilliant, but again, the app wasn't designed for the type of story the writers wanted to tell.

I also think the timing and having a very short turnaround hurt, as well. Players had high expectations and when you factor in the hype around the other books that were also released on Fridays, TE lost some of its sparkle. Most players didn’t get a chance to miss it for the regular 2-3 months we’ve been trained to wait for sequels. (I recognize that I’m an anomaly and the previous three sentences do not apply to me at all.)

Even with all this, I applaud the writing team for wanting to deliver a story that was worthy of a magical world. I love all the Pend Pals (‘Motley Crue’ for me), the familiars, the side characters, loved to hate the villains, and from someone who is not into Harry Potter lore at all, I was absolutely sucked into the magick universe that the writers built. (Metal Att for life ⚙!)

If TE does return in the future (and I REALLY hope it does), I think it will be even stronger than the first two books because the world building is complete. We know almost everything we need to know now. Instead of using a Book 3 to search for Sun Mama, the family is complete, MC and Atlas are attuned to all the elements, and there are so many open-ended questions that Book 2 left us.

If they implement a time jump where MC and the Pend Pals are all post grad/mid 20s, it also gives the writers a chance to move the story from the Young Adult genre to a more mature setting. We saw this in the later diamond scenes, where the writing appeared similar in their vividness (and coding in the final scene - THANK YOU, glorious writing team) to Open Heart, Bloodbound, and A Courtesan of Rome. This removes the restrictions placed on the group of being college kids, and therefore are almost fully developed with their magick, giving the possibility of moving the story out of a university setting.

If you've made it all the way here to the bottom, thank you for sticking with me and apologies for spelling/grammar since this has all been on my phone 😂 I think this comprises almost all my notes I've been keeping for the last 2 months. Feel free to agree or disagree; I just wanted to post my thoughts on this book and series that I love so much.

Now, I'm going to go back to my holiday (don't worry, I didn't write all of this while on vacay lol) and I'll try to answer asks when I have downtime.

[herecomesnaya]

YES! Thank you! I get so frustrated seeing dick fans go all ”he’s so underrated :(” when I stan cass cain and tim drake, like, they’re literally only active in so few things and when they are they get cool new names like orphan (I’m STILL BOILING WITH RAGE WTF WHO EVEN) and drake (I’ve exploded at this point). Like, PLEASE, YOU DON’T KNOW HOW GOOD U HAVE IT

for some people, Dick Grayson is the ONLY ROBIN (and I don’t just mean weirdos on tumblr who insist everyone who came after him is appropriating his culture, or whatever). he’s THE Robin, the one with the publicity, the one most Robins in other media are based on. Jason Todd who? Tim Drake what??? there are some Batman fanboys out there who only know about Dick and Carrie Kelly, and boy oh boy they are not interested in Carrie because of who she is as a person, lemme tell you WHAT

Dick was created only a year after Batman. he was there before ALFRED. Dick-Grayson-as-Robin is LITERALLY MORE ESSENTIAL TO THE BATMAN LORE THAN ALFRED. even people who don’t know shit about Batman comics know who he is!

action figures. live action TV show roles. live action movie roles. comics. YA novels. video games. t-shirts. comics again. entire wikis dedicated to him and his exploits/villains/allies/exes/places where he’s lived. more comics. miniseries comics, team leader comics, long-running comics, comics where he’s a frequent guest, comics where he’s the only one of the extended batfam to appear. theatrical productions. direct-to-video productions. fanfics. fanart. cosplays. radio shows. elseworlds. doujinshi. socks. hoodies. Halloween costumes. lanyards. hats. glasses. rings. watches. enamel pins. buttons. car decals. seatbelts. t-shirts. fucking Dick Grayson UNDERWEAR.

Dick has ALL THESE THINGS AND MORE, and some people still like to pretend like he’s been somehow cheated out of the recognition and respect he “should” have.

do you (not you, anon, but You Know Who) know what it’s like to stan a character that has maybe a fraction of that? a character who’s REALLY rare or REALLY shat on by canon? do you know what it’s like to feel a burst of surprise and dopamine when you find the one (1) vendor in an entire artist alley selling a cheaply-made paper and plastic button of your fav? the price of printing your own shirts? the unending agony of having read all 3 good fics in the entire fandom for them, plus the other 5 that were shitty, just because you’re that desperate? to have even the character’s creator just totally scrap them from the narrative????

walk a mile in these fucking louboutins and then talk to me about the problems Dick fucking Grayson has, you ungrateful lunatics

[saltine-kakyoin]

OH AND for the other ask thing, mayhaps 🎯 🔭 �� 🥐 and 💌? this is also quite a few hgjkghd if u don't wanna do them all that's fine!!!! i hope u can find a moment of relaxation tonight

it’s no worries!! i’m really appreciative of these because my sister and her fiance are talking about me flying home in the other room and i am truly tryna be like ⬇️ thank you for the kind wishes man… you already know this but ilysm ; J ;

the rest of this gets really long, so i’m gonna put this under a readmore!

🎯 if you could gain any skill instantly, what would it be?

broo this question is like a callout post… i have a list of skills i’ve been meaning to learn since at least august of 2018 that has regretfully gone untouched + unloved.. I would say, either the ability to speak spanish or ASL? or maybe how to hand embroider, or to do calligraphy? (fun fact: i bought a quill at last year’s ren faire, mostly as a prop for the game of whodunnit we do every day + I was going to learn to use it properly but it’s sat in my RF tub since november.. la tragedie) i’m really godawful at cooking and i don’t know how to bake, so maybe i should prioritize those..i desperately dream of baking loaves of bread for my friends and family, wrapping them in twine + writing kind notes, and hand-delivering them.. uGH ;J;

🔭 what’s your go-to topic to learn about when you’re bored?

it really depends on what i’m into! most of the time, i love deep-diving and learning the weird ins-and-outs of the lore of whatever i’m really into! my brother can testify for me staying up all night on the dragon ball wiki trying to make heads or tails of the different timelines.. August-November, though, i love learning about handicrafts! i have an entire playlist on youtube dedicated to leatherworking, bookbinding, woodburning, + other funky crafts that i’ll hopefully one day delve into so that Corylana can evolve from Ditsy invader zim-kinning elf to a tru Explorer of the Woods who has seen shit + lived to tell the tale! c:

🎟 what are some artists/bands whose music brings back childhood memories for you?

i’m such an audiophile so this question, i think, is probably the loveliest one to be asked ^ ^ a really important thing to understand about this answer is that i spent the latter half of my formative years locked up in a house all day w/ 2008 internet as my primary source of entertainment. 

most of my childhood is tied up in songs as opposed to bands. my sister and i were really Addicted to yugioh amvs, so we listened to a ton of alt rock bc that’s what all the amvs were set to? the most iconic one was this joey x mai amv from like 2008 that i am SO glad still exists.. he is everything you want Stays one of my favorite songs solely bc of polarshipping (this is a Lie that song SLAPS)  chasing cars, eclipse of the heart, iris, you and me, and hfhsh remember the name were really Crucial songs ;v; i was also ObSESSED w britney although my mom hates her + i vividly remember that they used to play hips don’t lie Every Single Time we went to eat at buffalo wild wings, so it became another obsession. my mom really loved ymca so we listened to that all the time, too c:

also FUCK my sister brought this up… the first 3 seconds of untouched by the veronicas sets off my fight or flight response because SO many people used it for their iconic 2008-2010 “xyz productions” title cards, FUCK.

things changed once we moved back to north carolina (read: my sister and i became mortal enemies?) i’m about to oust myself but vocaloid was such a huge part of my childhood (it’s also why i joined choir at all, which is hilarious considering that’s basically the rest of my life lol) i enjoyed a TON of different artists, but i remember for a fact that i was obsessed with wowaka, deco*27 (egomama and aimai elegy were particular faves) (ALSO TWO BREATHS WALKING + LOVE DISTANCE LONG AFFAIR WAIT.. WAIT…. OMG), and jin (ms. kagerou project....

on a mildly unrelated note (does hs count as one’s childhood? hm), disney’s candlelight processional brings back so many warm memories from high school! although I cannot fuck with the hallelujah chorus, even 2 years after graduation, because it brings me back to the first time I performed it + my throat locked up on stage and i couldn’t breathe consistently for like 4 minutes! ; J ; i vividly remember debating whether or not i could make it through the song w/o passing out or sitting down (if you sat down to be carried out during the performance, you didn’t receive your complimentary tickets bc you didn’t perform the whole show. My dilemma was that Hallelujah is the final song of the show + i had powerhoused through every song before it)

🥐 what food is your go-to when you want something easy to make/prepare?

in moments of dire hunger, my brother and i always resort to ramen with broccoli! ramen is a1 on its own but there’s something about the broccoli that truly elevates it.. idk. i cannot wait for when i have more time to cook + look back on this answer and cackle at my lack of cooking skills ;v;

💌 what’s something you love about the last friend/family member you texted?

the last person i texted was my brother ben! and bro where the fuck do i even Begin with benji, oh my god.. he and i have been through the trials and tribulations of childhood alliance + betrayal, we’ve walked through the fires of hell + lived to tell the tale of it to our mom even though we both agreed we wouldn’t snitch.. benji is a legend

I feel the same way about ben that you do about lj! we’re almost always on the same wavelength about stuff, and i feel like i can talk to him about genuinely anything c: we swing wildly between being Literally Incoherent and manic to being very real and sometimes philosophical and it is always yeehaw Times. one of the things i appreciate most about ben is that he’s SUCH a good sounding board for ideas- i always bounce my new concepts off of him and he almost always has something interesting to add or consider. sergio, and most of my other aus, would deadass Not Exist without ben’s inputs c:

[unto-myself-together]

Of Stories and Songs: Ch 7

A Haunted Mansion fanfic (Disney).

Author notes: So now we have come full circle here.  We've come back to the original short prompt story that I wrote way back when on Tumblr.  Now, since then, I think I've gone over and given this scene very important (but very subtle) changes.  And Solomon Gracey did end up changing from the original person I had him be.   Also this chapter.  Took.  Forever.  To complete.  It doesn't help that it seems to be the longest so far.  Eventually, I did have to just cut it at some point, because it just didn't seem like it was going to stop anytime soon.   Lots more references to Haunted Mansion myth/lore and media.  I think one of the most important is the sailor aspect of it.  The original story idea the Imagineers had was to write sort of a pirate tale, which some say is the reason for the ship weather vane attached to the Disneyland mansion as well as a certain blocked off tunnel.  And so, I did very much plan for/liked the idea putting a more sea-worthy, sailor-y aspect to the story.  It's interesting to note that ships of about this time period (late 19th century) had both engines and auxiliary sails (in case the engines failed, mostly).   It remains to be seen whether sailors in the late 19th century shipping industry had accents, but I thought that, perhaps, since this character has likely seen many sights and was practically raised off of the sea that he'd have some unique way of speaking.   Speaking of which, though, I didn't quite realize that the song from Pirates of the Caribbean 4 was an actual song from way back in the 17th century (guesstimate).  Nobody knows for sure how old it is, because like most folk tunes the origins are unclear.  It was collected by a man in the late 19th century, and published in a book alongside other folk songs and sea shanties.  He didn't create the song, simply collected it.   Finally, I would like to take this time to dedicate this chapter to my friend, Majora.

@majora-the-trekking-hobbit

Reasoning is partially because of a...erm...particular character that shows up here.  But also because of all the support you've given me and this story!  Thank you for always reblogging, and thank you for always taking the time to listen to me and give me advice! I really appreciate it!   Art references used: Staircase:http://www.doombuggies.com/secrets_conservatory.php https://themeparkuniversity.com/disney/disneys-haunted-mansion-man-spiderweb-real-hoax/ https://hauntedmansion.fandom.com/wiki/Endless_Staircase Hattie:https://www.usatoday.com/story/travel/2015/07/15/disneylands-hatbox-ghost-mystery-solved/30216909/ https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS720US720&biw=1293&bih=665&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=yAuDXI2SD-vK5gLxtLPoAw&q=haunted+mansion+hatbox+ghost&oq=haunted+mansion+hatbox+ghost&gs_l=img.3..0j0i5i30l2j0i24l2.43127.44878..44976...0.0..0.210.1061.6j3j1......1....1..gws-wiz-img.......0i8i30j0i30.9t6rb10BpQM#imgrc=zew4FFwUqtcCOM: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hatbox_Ghost Cape (because I needed extra help with how to fold it): https://www.google.com/search?rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS720US720&biw=1293&bih=665&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=GAyDXLGEDIfZ5gKeoZjgDQ&q=assassin%27s+creed+cape&oq=assassin%27s+creed+cape&gs_l=img.3..0j0i8i30l8j0i24.120121.124788..125000...0.0..0.93.1629.22......1....1..gws-wiz-img.....0..0i67.bP3kELME6yc#imgdii=XUa-qMHbTqdtkM:&imgrc=yAsMXH24fr3GUM: ~~~~ Trigger warnings: ghosts, death concepts/discussions, murder, suicide, abuse, blood, lots of scary stuff (horror), implied sexual abuse, cursing (damn and hell), drug abuse, domestic violence, attempted rape (never completed; in a later chapter). 

~~~

Table of Contents:

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 ,

Chapter 6 , Chapter 7

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~~~Ch. 7:  The Fearsome Foursome~~~

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~ My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold, There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold. -1891 collection, Real Sailor-Songs by John Ashton ~

~~~ ~~                     

                     “Good evening, Master Gracey.”

The Ghost Host politely responded.

“Don’t give me that.  You know precisely that my evening cannot possibly be good with you banging about the house.  Must you ruin my reading?” Karen shifted back; the floor beneath her creaked.   Solomon caught sight of her cowering against the wall, and he stared at her dispassionately.   “Who is this?” He scowled, and it made him look all the terrifying because it gave an impression that he held no sympathy for her. “A mortal?  Damn it, man. How many times must I tell you to stop letting mortals inside?! Get her out of here, now!”     “With or without her companion, who seems to have been…mislaid?” 

The man spun round, away from her, and stared at the empty void, the source of the voice, and the air seemed to shift dangerously around him.

“You’ve lost track of one of them? You’ve done that on purpose, haven’t you?!”              “Perish the thought. I’m sure they can be reacquired.               I’ve heard some of the vases in the west end shattering.     Perhaps it’s them lugging their…hmmm shaken physical presence through                                                      the halls….”

Everything fell into an uneasy, unsettling stillness. “The west end…vases…you mean the burial urns?” Somehow, the anger that seethed off of the man was palpable, much like a thick fog permeating the air.  Only it was a weighted sensation and not a physical appearance.   “The burial urns?  Where my mother’s burial urn resides?”  

She could swear she could feel a rumble coming from the house, as if the floorboards had responded to his words. Underneath her palms, the wood began to tremble.   “Breaking the burial urns?! You..You!  Breaking the west end vases!  Oh I’ve no doubt those urns are breaking, but it isn’t the mortal breaking the urns, now is it?!  You vile, disgusting twisted little demon!” The man spat, and if anger had been a liquid she had imagined that it would have come spilling from his mouth straight to the floorboards with the way he spoke.                “Come now. I can’t imagine why you would care…”  

The voice purred in a low tone.                               “It’s just a speck of dust.                                  And after all….                    You never were that well acquainted with her anyways…” 

That was the wrong thing to say that was the wrong thing to say That was the wrong thing to say.   She wanted to scream at the Ghost Host, but she was quite sure he wouldn’t listen because his voice sounded far too pleased with himself.

The shaking had abruptly gone silent.  Solomon Gracey stumbled back a moment, before his clenched, shaking fist mimicked the tremors.  And the rumbling began anew, only this time it was STRONGER. “Care to repeat that statement, sir?”

The various vases and objects that scattered the halls seemed to dance and jump; some of them even floated in midair. Every breath she took became almost painfully heavy, as it had seemed that the air had availed itself of logic and chose to be swept up in some invisible gathering vacuum.                                    “Now, now.                          Think of all the priceless objects you yourself                                      are on the verge of throwing.”   Master Gracey did not appear swayed, and Karen wasn’t willing to stick around any longer.  It was getting far too difficult to breath, and she wasn’t exactly sure she knew what was happening to the hallway.  She lunged for the nearest door, practically tripping through it as it swung open.   And instantly fell into darkness.   Not just fell though; she rolled.   The room before her apparently wasn’t flat or level at all, and the act of falling through the door caused her to tumble down, down down. Until she managed to catch hold of a piece of wood and cotton.   Her legs were dangling, a frightful change in orientation that left her clinging to the wood and cotton by hands alone.

She could hear the door swing close, and a whispering echoed off the halls before the room began to brighten.  Candelabras quite near to her up on a pedestal inexplicably came aflame, and she dared to look behind and below. Staircases. Staircases as far as the eye could see. Going up, going down, going sideways, going upside-down.  Any which way you looked, with no rhyme or reason or even a contextual explanation for why there was a gigantic, chasm-like room full of staircases.   Her eyes grew wide to see it, and grew wider still when she felt the lifesaving wood she clung begin to creak and give way.   She was apparently on a staircase too, albeit a decrepit one that was torn off into a sheer drop.  Her legs flailed as she struggled to get back up, but she could not swing them properly to hoist herself up the sides.  Already, it took all of her strength just to hold on, and with each attempted swing she could hear the wood creaking and tearing further.   “H-Help…”  She weakly cried out towards the door.  Why oh why did the door have to close? She looked all around for another staircase to jump onto, but none of them looked close enough to make it.   The pressure of gravity and the weight it bore down on was numbing her hands.  She again attempted to hoist herself up, but only managed to get the length of her arms to cling to the wood.  A relief to her fingertips, but the muscles of her upper body still screamed at her to release. “Help!  Help me!”  She cried even louder, hoping to attract the attention of either of the two bickering ghosts.  Or any ghost at all.  But only the echoes of her own voice came back to haunt her.   Were they just going to leave her?  Did they care?  Did they even notice she wasn’t in the hallway anymore? She was quite sure that the Ghost Host wouldn’t care, but that man, Solomon, too? The wood bent further underneath her, and the resulting lurch held a tone of finality that she was forced to acknowledge.  

….. This was it, wasn’t it? This was how she died.   She tried to keep her eyes from watering up as she thought about Michael.  He was already dead, wasn’t he?   If he survived that fall, he likely had to deal with a lot of the same stuff she did.  It would be just like that Ghost Host to string her along on a thin thread of hope.   She tried another swing to hoist herself up, but wood bent again in a dangerous direction and she was frightened to continue, even as her arms were getting exhausted.   Her parents.   Her parents didn’t even know she was here.  They were off on vacation visiting relatives in New York and wouldn’t be back until the day after tomorrow.  What would they do when they came back and she wasn’t home? Would they even know where to look for her? Tears streaming down her face, they fell off her chin to the deep chasm below.                             This was how she died, wasn’t it?

The tears were making her eyesight blurry.  The door in front of her, out of reach, taunting her with safety, started to wiggle in her vision.   Bright and murky to her tear smudged eyes.   “Please help….”  Her cry was even weaker now.   The strain of holding up her own weight. Feet dangling below.   The crackling of wood underneath her arms.   

                                         Crack.                                             No. Nothing to lose now, she swung herself again.  The wood bent once more.                                         CRACK.                                          Please! One tip of her foot managed to make contact with the top of the wood she clung to.  She tried to maneuver it so that she could use it as a hook to get the rest of hers--                                          SNAP!            The light of the candles moving further and further….away….                                Tears falling upwards.                              Stomach dropping down.                           Arms wildly reaching around.                                        Something.                                        Anything.                                             .... .                                     …Nothing… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                              Falling Falling Falling.                                 We all Fall down.                           A little teeny tiny speck.                                 In a Giant Well. The girl fell faster than expected.                             Gravity is so funny, isn’t it? Just before her body struck the ground, a flash of light came.                                Funny, funny, Gravity. And the girl was held, suspended and unconscious.  Her tiny mortal frame, still breathing, looked so small against the majesty of the never ending stairs.                      Here it is.  You’ve hit rock bottom, child. And the flash of light coalesced to wrap around the cut of her figure.  

Floating. Glowing. She lay there. Inches from the ground…. ….But it would not be the ground for long. For the light twisted her around; the orientation of the staircases was too lopsided.   Indeed, she was not facing the floor at all.  For she had fallen upwards. She had just avoided the fate of becoming a splat on the ceiling.   Another flash of light, this time pulsating.  With each rhythmic spurt, the light turned into the shape of a spider’s web.   And the girl like a fly in its center.

                         Foolish mortals they say.  Foolish mortals.                                  Why am I here again?                                   What was I doing?                        Foolish mortals.  The sound of the sea.                                Gentle waves, gentle.                                     I smell a rat.                              Wiggling up the stairs.                                       No. Not a rat.                                      A gentleman.                                      Who is that?                                       Good man.                                   Very nice man. ��                                    I like him.                            Oh, I like him.  He can pass.                                Sheep and shepherds.

A man appeared.  Or rather, a figure materialized.  Out from the wind of the hallway, his head, then his body, then his arms. Bent over, he walked with a cane.  Even in spite of the fact that his legs had yet to appear.

                                   There was a crooked man.                                  He walked with a crooked cane.                                    But everybody loved him.                                     Just and all the same. On his head was a top hat.  In his ghostly smile, a gold tooth. A cane in one hand.  And in the opposite, a box.   He raised the box up like a lantern as he came to the chasm that was filled with the staircases.   And he tapped his cane.  Once.  Twice.   The floating mortal’s body jerked in mid-air, another flash of light scattering and breaking the glow that had held a tentative spider web pattern.  The body fell a few feet to where he was, before stopping again in mid-air right before it hit the ground.   The man leaned forward, as if to inspect the mortal’s face, before letting out a grumble.  In a swoop of his cape, he turned to go back down the hall whence he came from.  And the unconscious body of the mortal floated along behind him akin to being pulled by invisible balloon strings.   Down, down the hall, the unconscious mortal in tow. ~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Babbling and gurgling as it trickled along; it was a delight to hear the river and give herself a reprieve from the nightmares of the house.   That’s why she came here…That’s always why. Her voice was carried along with the sounds of the water, just as the leaves were swept up in the current.   She sang low enough that any passerby would have to strain to listen in, but that likely wasn’t even necessary.  The little open space among the density of the trees wasn’t something people were likely to look for to begin with. And her emerald green uniform would surely provide camouflage at any rate.   Her voice was wordless.  It was just tones, going from high to low in whatever fashion pleased her.  And she had loosened her hair so that the blond locks hung around her face like a curtain protecting her from the outside world.  The tears would come to fall behind them. She sung of the pains of the day.  She sung of what she would have to face should she return. She sung to escape. A bit of peace, a bit of paradise, a bit of comfort, a bit of calm. It would not last forever. Singing her life away in that glade. But in that moment, she sang for herself, even if it was just to bemoan the inevitability that she would have to stop. “They’ll take yer offer, you know.” Her voice caught off in a startle, and she turned to see a man beside her. The weathered state of his skin suggested long hours working in the sun and made him look older, but there was a certain youthfulness about his eyes that suggested he was perhaps only a handful of years away from her own age.   He smiled rather good-naturely and openly, even as his back was bent over in an uncomfortable state and he leaned heavily on the gnarled cane in his hand. “Is this spot taken?”  He asked with humor, nodding to the very empty surroundings beside her, “Or would you wish me to leave you be?” “You….are more than welcome to it, sir.  I cannot stop you.” “But you can say ‘no’, miss.  And I’ll honor that and be off with myself.  Though not before I compliment the owner of the very pretty voice that I happened to come upon while looking for a spot meself on the river…”  He had a strange accent about him. 

“You come here often, then, sir?” “Aye.  To fish.” “You’re a fisherman?” “Used to be more than that.  I was a sailor once.  But I’m content to dabble in what fish I can sell now.” “What happened?”  She asked, a glance towards his crooked back. “A storm we happened upon, and one of the riggings broke and snapped me back as I tried to secure our cargo.  Cargo ended up securing me; right on the deck I was pinned.  Neither my leg nor my back have ever been a right straight since.”

“That sounds so awful.  I’m so sorry…” But he waved her apology away. “It’s all right.  My ol’ Captain gives me a stipend now.  For bravery and the loss of my good work, and on the account that I’m young.  Can’t do much anymore, but the fishing helps.  And I can still manage to go out on the water a bit whenever I get lonely for the open sea.  The adventure of it.” His eyes glistened.  “I may not be the richest in the world, but I count my stars every day that I’m alive.  And I’m happy where I’m at, and that’s really all that matters, isn’t it?” “Yes…”  She agreed, solemnly going back to staring at the river.  Before she realized he was still standing.   “Oh! Won’t you sit?  That must be painful.” “Now is that what you want, Miss?  I ask again, because I am not one to intrude upon a lady if she means to have a private moment to herself.  And I didn’t mean to disturb you if that’s really what you came out here for.” Her eyes snapped to his at this.  His chocolate brown eyes softening as she did, and they proved that he was genuine in his statement. People usually didn’t ask her what she wanted.  Raised as a servant all her life, kept in that house all her life, it wasn’t really a concept that she was used to.  It was hard to maintain ‘privacy’ or any semblance of independence when you had to share a room with three other girls, and were at the beck and call of others.   “I want...I want you to join me,” She said. ”Please.  And, perhaps, tell me what you meant before.  That they would accept my offer…who is ‘they’?” “The mermaids, of course,” He said, grinning at her as he carefully settled down with his good leg going first.   “They’ll come to ya, lured by the singing.” “I thought they were only out on the ocean.”  She smiled back at him.  The thought of mermaids never crossed her mind.  She wasn’t even sure if she believed in them, but the man’s smile was infectious.  And his relaxed air about him as he spoke was addicting. “No no, miss.  Sure, they love the open sea air better, but they’re just as likely to be spotted in the rivers.  Anytime you see a glint of scaly tails that looks too big to be a fish…and beautiful hair that’s too impossible to belong to a human….That’s when you’ll know.  Mermaids about in these waters.” “And they’ll come to me to eat me, right?  I’ve heard stories about their appetites.” “Appetites they have in spades, true.  But it’s for sailors like meself or pirates that they’re most brutal.” He patted his chest. “Don’t completely blame them none either; a right lot of us ain’t always the pleasant sort.  But for the young ladies who sit so mournfully, they’ll come to you and say so sweetly ‘Why, what a lovely voice you have!  And how sad you look!  Will you tell us whatever is wrong, that we might fix it?’” Here she gave a smile both sad and amused, because he had clearly noticed her distress and thought to ask about it in a roundabout method with a little story.   “I’m a servant in a household…” She paused, thinking to edit out too many details.  He was a stranger.  “The eldest son of the master has been making things…difficult for me.  He asks for things I do not wish to give. And I cannot garner sympathy from the other servants because they all either lecture me or shun me.  I feel alone.” 

The man was silent.  She looked over at him to see him pensively staring out into the water.  The river bubbled along the banks where they sat. “Well,” He said, flashing her a kind smile. “I suppose the mermaids would say then ‘Come away come away with us!  We’ll take you down to the depths of the sea, and none will be able to reach you!’” She laughed, a noise that was nearly unknown to her at that point.  “But I would drown!” “Not so!  The kiss of the mermaid would give you the lungs of a fish, and you could wander the depths at will!  And they may do more than that, and grant upon you the chance to join among their immortal selves.  To swim freely through the ocean, and have all the reefs as your personal boudoir, and to dance among the dolphins as they leap into the sky!” He accented this note with a hand waving stretching into the heavens. “And then…” he continued. “You needn’t ever come back.  Or, if the thought fancies you, you could return and unleash torment upon the young man of your former master.  He will never know peace after hearing the siren’s song of the mermaids!” As his tale grew more wild and fanciful, she couldn’t help but giggle along to it.  It sounded like the sort of story of her girlhood dreams, all the fairytales she grew up with.  And she couldn’t help herself but to continue playing along.   “Oh but I couldn’t!  If the lovely mermaids would have me, I would be far too busy making friends with the fish and the whales.  And learning about all the ocean life.  Or perhaps simply gazing upon the waves as they crash on the shore.” But her smile faltered, and the solemnity returned a bit.   “Besides which…I don’t think I could stomach taking revenge.  Even if he is a beastly man at times.  I suppose that makes me weak willed, doesn’t it?” “Not at all.  I think that shows a strength of character.  Few others would even hesitate; don’t judge yourself by their standards.” He touched her very gently at the shoulder, so much so that she thought she imagined it at first.  But when she went to turn, it was clear he meant to attract her attention. “Even if you were not to return for the sake of revenge,” He repeatedly tapped his chest with a single finger with a sheepish demeanor, “Won’t you take pity on this poor fisherman, and perhaps return to show him all the best spots to catch his favorite striped bass?” And she laughed again, this time more freely and warmly as he grinned from ear to ear. “Of course, of course sir! And you will never go a day without a full boat or a full stomach!” “Aha!”  He cried, and he held his cane to the sky like he’d proudly pulled Excalibur itself from the waters, “And I shall be wealthy!  Wealthy in fish, that is!” He laughed alongside her, the two of the chuckling more like school children than the young adults they were.  As they sat, leaning on each other for support, by the banks of the river. “…My name is Emily…” she said, as she continued to lean on his shoulder, not caring at all for impropriety in that moment. “May I ask yours, sir?” “Roland is the name, miss.” He said, making no move to push her off nor to take advantage of it.  “Although folks always call me ‘Rolly’…”                                                 “Rolly…” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything ached.  Her head, her arms, her legs.  Her vision was blurry, but it became clearer as she attempted to sit up and gaze her surroundings.   The actual attempt at sitting up, however, failed.   She flopped back onto whatever soft thing she awoke on, a new ache of pain accompanying her back.  Whatever did she do to cause this? Where was she? She remembered a river.   …..No.  That wasn’t her.  That was someone else.   ….That was another memory. And a hazy one, at that; she knew enough to recognize Emily as the one crying, but the man remained a bigger part of a mystery.  He seemed so eerily familiar, yet the image of his appearance could not stay in her attention and blurred out like the remnants of a recently forgotten dream. A more comforting dream than she was willing to admit; though she ached, she felt calm.   Complete calm.  At peace with herself.   But her backtrack through her own memories brought with it a steady uneasiness.  She remembered that she was in a mansion, but she couldn’t remember the last thing she…. The fall!

Karen shot up in place, newly wide eyed, hands grasping around for purchase. She grabbed more soft things, her brain finally starting to wake up enough to register that she was laying on an old, but clean looking, mattress.   A mattress on top of an old brass bedframe, a bundle of blankets piled on top of her explaining the warmth.  Now that those selfsame blankets were removed from her upper half, she got a sense of how truly freezing it was.   The cold was turning the gears in her head.   If there really was life after death, how did you know if you’ve already died? She frantically grabbed at her own wrist, and was rewarded with a strong but quickened pulse.  The remnants of spider bites still layered over her hands.  She painfully pinched one of them to the point where a tiny drop of blood oozed out.  Those were the telltale signs…right? A sigh of relief left her lips, and settled down under the blankets for a moment.  Her aching limbs and even her head were starting to feel a little bit better, as if the little bit of movement eased her body back into remembering how to work.   She wondered what part of the house she was in.  The room was slightly illuminated with a bluish-green glow.  And all around her were piles of…the best way she could describe it was “junk”.  There was junk everywhere.  Old trunks, old books scattered about, chairs, wicker baskets, vases, tableware, small statues and figurines, model boats, and portrait frames without any portraits in them.   Her chest heaved as she took in a deep breath as she nuzzled the pillow.  There were no Ghost Hosts to pester her, no memories currently assailing her, no creepy statues chasing after her, no dark chasms full of staircases to fall into.  The bed, even though it sadly was not her bed, brought with it a sense of complete peace.   She could get used to this.   There was a gentle scratching sound in the room.  She had ignored it until now, but her thoughts had come full circle and began to wonder how she had gotten in this bed. Surely, someone had put her here.   And that, perhaps, they were still in the room with her.   The bed dipped and creaked as she slowly rose.  Her body was mostly better, but her arms still hurt.  The result, no doubt, of hanging on for dear life not too long ago.   The chill in the air forced her to take one of the blankets and wrap it around herself like a cape before she made her way through a tentative path marked through the junk piles.  In a different setting, back in Mr. Vance’s shop, she’d have loved nothing more than to go through all of these old things and admire them.  Perhaps even wonder about their histories.   But now she wondered if touching things was partially to blame for all the memories she’d been seeing.  She wondered if she would not cause herself more grief than it was worth to trudge through mountains of books or a pile of…

….Boxes…. She stopped at the boxes.  Unusually shaped boxes…like luggage. They must have had a specific purpose, since they all looked similar, but she didn’t know quite know enough about travel history to be able to place what they were for.   But one of them… …looked just like the strange fishing tackle that Mr. Mortimer always carried. She heard shifting nearby, she was getting closer to the glow, and she looked around the corner to find… A man with no head. She stumbled back into boxes, partially tripping on the blanket.  In spite of all the creepy things she’d seen so far, this was still a sight she hadn’t been expected.   The headless body was clothed in what looked like a buttoned down sailor’s raincoat, with a high collar cape paired over it.  An overly fancy top hat hovered in midair above the blank space where a head ought to be.  And the whole being was glowing in dull blues and greens.   

Her noisy retreat apparently caught the attention of the headless man, or it would be assumed to be the case, for he stopped wilting a stick of wood and straightened up. “Awake, are we?” The voice caused her to shriek and back away from the boxes she’d just stumbled into.   There was a head in one of them, shining with such a strong, green light that the box itself may as well have been made of a see-through material.  Perhaps it was.   The head chuckled at her reaction, and the whole box toppled over to roll across the floor towards the body.   Denying physics, the box and its contained head roll jumped as it reached its destination, the degree of spin it displayed was just enough so that the handle of the box easily snagged the waiting hand of the body.   Box in hand now, the body took a few steps towards her, the head disappearing from the box only to reappear moments later atop the pair of shoulders.  The ghost giving her an all too familiar gold toothed grin all the while.   Now that the two were reunited, and she had a moment to fully look at him… “…Mr….Mortimer…?” “Aye, young’un.” She did a double take.  Looking from his newly completed self, all green and bluish see through glow, to the box he held.  She recognized it as the very same box he often used as fishing tackle. Her mouth agape, she took in his extremely skeletal, glow-y appearance. “What….you…you can’t be dead!” “Oh?  Am I not?” He said, clearly amused as he made a show of examining his own arms. “We just talked to you this evening!  You…You were alive just this evening!”   “A lot can happen in a few hours, young’un.”  He said, completely stoney-faced. “Did you…did you die since then?  It wasn’t of old age was it?  It can’t be.  You don’t look more than 40—“ “Thank you kindly,” He said, this time with a smile and even greater amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Who killed you then?! What happened?!  It was that Ghost Host, wasn’t it—“ He raised a hand to stop her. “Young’un, it was a joke.  Believe you me, I’ve been dead since long before you were even born.” It took her a few seconds to process those words. “But…..but you were alive…” She said again, softly this time, as she stared off at nothing in particular. “Was I, young’un?  Or did I just look alive?”  

She attempted, again, to think this through.  He still glowed with an unearthly light, and she realized she could count ribs underneath the sheen of the raincoat.  He was like a skeleton.  A talking, walking skeleton in clothing.   “…I’m still dreaming, aren’t I?  Or maybe I’m dead.   I-I’m dead…I…I-I-I really fell to my death off that staircase, and now my body is just lying there, or maybe it’s just gone splat and there’s nothing left but a bunch of c-cracked bones and blood an-“ “--Young’un, you’re not-” He stepped forward, and she stumbled back.   He raised his hand again, but this time it was a gesture of surrender.   “It’s all right, young’un.”  In spite of the skulled visage, she could still see traces of the Mr. Mortimer she knew.  It was there in the way he now looked at her; full of concern and consideration. “It’s all right,” He said again, softer now, “You aren’t dead, and I’m not gonna hurt you.  I’m no different than all the times you’ve seen me before.  You just know a bit more about me, that’s all.” Again, the gears in her head tried to work themselves around this.  All those moments she’d seen him in town.  All the people he’d talked to.   “You’re dead…All this….all this time…?  The.  The people.  In town…” “Been doin’ this for decades now.  Not always here, you see.  Every forty years or so, I’ve had to go the town over to make sure no one got too suspicious that I hadn’t died off yet.  Age myself here and there so I look like I’m gaining years like everyone else.  I fancy I put on a right good show; no one ever questions whether that ol’ fisherman stumbling around is alive.” He gave her a winning grin.   “Although I reckon it’s pretty common to assume anyone and everyone who can stumble around is alive, eh?”  He said. Her mouth went dry as she looked back up at him. “All the…all the times I sat by you while you fishing at the river...a-and you would tell me stories…” His smile disappeared as he nodded solemnly.  “Yes….I was dead all of those times, too.” Her head was spinning.  She felt betrayed, but for reasons beyond her grasp or understanding.  He had felt cold all those times she had been near him.  Cold to the touch, cold in his presence, cold just by looking at him; those inexplicable feelings were beginning to make sense. And something else clicked. “…That was you in the memory…” “That was what now?” “You’re Rolly…Rolly Mortimer…Is that…?  That has to be…Your full name.  And you were by the river.  Emily Slater,” She said, facing him fully, the anxiety replaced with a strange sort of excitement as she regained the energy to stand. 

Flickers of emotion consumed his face, but they settled on furrowed concern. “Emily…How did you come by that name?” She shifted uncomfortably.  “I’ve been seeing strange things.  Ever since I came here. I don’t know.  They’re kinda like funny daydreams.  And bits of info just sort of pop into my head all the time…” His concern wearied off into contemplation.  “Daydreams, you say?  And do they happen a lot whenever you happen to touch something?” She nodded glumly.  “Especially this.” Her hand almost automatically went straight for it; the ring in her jacket pocket. She had to stop herself and overturn her jacket instead.  Guilt tripped her a little as the ring tripped out onto the floor. “Sorry, I just.  I just don’t want to-“ “Touch it.  I know.” Whatever he was thinking, it was certainly emotional.  The profound sense of sorrow in his eyes laid bare the reasons for his slow reluctance to set aside his box and pick the ring up.   “Is it yours, Mr. Mortimer?” He did not say anything immediately, but turned the ring over in his hand admiring its every facet.   “….No, it is not.  It belonged to Emily’s mother, and it was the only thing she had left to remember either of her parents by.” He tenderly put the ring into a hidden compartment in one of the old dressers nearby.  His gaze still entranced enough to stare at the dresser.   “I will have to...I will have to try and return to Emily when I get the opportunity…” That peaked Karen’s interest…and she couldn’t understand why.  It felt like an urge, much like all of the strange emotions and images that had been assaulting her up until this point. “Is Emily here?  In this house?” Mr. Mortimer paused.  “She…is present in the house, yes.  But…” “….Is….there something wrong with her…?” Mr. Mortimer stood staring at the dresser he’d put the ring in.  Silently, he was shaking his head.  Shaking his head and going to fetch a gnarled old cane from nearby that held all the markings of being a wilting project itself.   “It doesn’t matter much, young’un.  We aren’t likely to meet her at this time of night, so you needn’t get your hopes up too much.  Besides, she’s not…” A wince of sorrow. “…She isn’t quite able to have visitors.  She doesn’t respond much to any of us who knew her in life, she’s not likely to respond to a stranger.” “Is she like the ghost that I met that was stuck in the wallpaper?” “…One of the Wanderers…” “Wanderers?” He grumbled.  “Now see here, young’un.  Unlike some people ‘round here, I don’t mind too much the questions.  It’s only natural to be curious.  But that don’t change the fact that you have no business being here in the first place.” He lifted his cane and waved it in the air alongside his scolding.  Never hit her, never touched her, but the way it danced it was clear he was a little peeved about this.  And, for her part, she felt a little guilty.   “I did tell you, didn’t I?  I warned you not to go off and follow Nell home!  And just what did you do, hmm?”  His cane settled down again and he gave her a hard stare. “B-but we didn’t!  At least, not really…” She thought back to Michael, insisting they get out of the rain… that Nell said Tom Sawyer's Road was said to be a faster.... Wait.  We. 

Michael! “We indeed.  I’ll take a gander and assume that both you and young Michael came in here together, am I correct?” Michael!  Her face went hot as she grew very angry at herself.  How did she forget about him?  Why was her head all full of concerns about Emily and not Michael???  

Again, an eerie sensation overtook her, and nausea waved up.  It was like her own thoughts and feelings were slowly being replaced, one after the other. 

“The floorboards.”  Her voice was meek as she tried to clench her stomach against the nausea.  “We were together, but that Ghost Host pulled him underneath the floorboards and I haven’t seen him since.”   She looked over with fearful eyes, “I don’t..I don’t even know how long I’ve been here, how long I’ve been asleep up in this room. You don’t think he’s…” “Doubtful.  That wretch has been tricking mortals into coming inside for ages now, but he doesn’t often kill them.  I think he finds it part of the ‘entertainment’.  But we ought to leave right away, before he comes looking for you.  Especially if you have the ‘gift’.  This place isn’t kind to amateur psychics; there are too many of us for it to be safe…” “Wait.  What do you mean, ‘safe’?  What will….what will happen to me if I stay and be, I don’t know, ‘un-safe’?”

He paused again, as if deciding whether or not to give an explanation. “You said you met a soul who had been stuck in the wallpaper, right?” “Yeah.” “Was there anything you found a bit odd about them?” She thought about it.  “She had pale white eyes and no pupils.  And she thought I was Emily.  At least, at first she did.  After she got a good look at me, her eyes started to look more normal…” When she looked back at Mr. Mortimer, he had cautious hope in his eyes.   “She managed to see you, did she?  See you as you really are…” “What does that mean?” “Poor souls like that, they all have stark white eyes.  Like the pupils had right been stolen from them.  They’re called Wanderers.  Or Wandering Souls.  Or the Lost.  It’s all the same meaning.  They don’t immediately recognize you for a mortal because oftentimes they can’t.  Most of the time, they don’t even realize what year it is….or that they’re even dead.  Stuck in the past, some might say, and certainly not by choice.  And many of them have to relive the same old horrors of their life again…and again….and again…” “That’s….that’s horrible!  Isn’t there any way to help them or something?  Free them?”   Mr. Mortimer shook his head.  “None of us really know how to help them.  We have suspicions…” And here he looked her over with sorrowful eyes. “…But those suspicions have been met with disagreements.  And they don’t always come with permanent solutions either.  Not even the Madame, as all-knowing as she seems to be, knows exactly what to do for them.  Elsewise, I’d think we wouldn’t have any Wanderers at all.” He tapped the side of his head, next to his own eyes. “When they get their pupils back, it usually means they’re starting to see their surroundings as it is.  And we’ve managed this a few times for some of them, but they often just lose them again.  And again….and again....” Karen grew silent.   “The reason I mention them…young’un.  Is because.  If you remain, untrained, in this house where there are so many of us souls…You’ll become Lost as well…” She felt her own eyes grow as wide as saucers. “I’ll be stuck in the wallpaper??!” Mr. Mortimer opened his mouth, but that quickly spiraled into laughter.   “N-No…No…young’un.  You…You still got a body...Bodies can’t go off and melt themselves into walls, ya know…” He settled down into a cough. “But it’s your mind you ought to be concerned about.  If you keep on like this, having everyone’s feelings and thoughts going through your head, you’ll eventually start to think they’re yours.  You’ll start to forget stuff about yourself and start to ‘remember’ stuff about some of the souls here.  And with nearly a thousand of us…well…you’ll be right swallowed up like a boat capsizing out in a storm.” “And I’ll…be someone else?  I’ll forget myself …forever?” He gave her a kind smile and shook his head. “No, not forever.  Mortal psychics have an advantage here; you’ve got a body still.  That alone can help anchor you to the present in ways that we can’t.  Mortals don’t get Lost for long, but that may require that they’re removed from us souls so they can recover…” “But if I’m not!  If I end up trapped here.  A-and I get Lost…” “Now don’t you go and worry about that.  There’s a whole crowd of us here in this one single house; someone would find you and let you out.  It’d be impossible for you to go unnoticed.”

“If I’m found by someone nice, you mean…” Karen said bitterly, thinking back to the Ghost Host. “Most of us are a right sort.  A lot of the nasty fellows are locked up nice and tight; ya shouldn’t come across any of those.” “But what about the Wanderers?” “Wanderers are a right fright to a mortal, I imagine, since it can be hard to understand why they do what they do.  There off in their own little world; can be hard to figure out what they’re planning next and how to react.  But they’re not scary on purpose.  Not vicious.” He went to go and grab his box.

“And they’re mostly harmless.”  He said, “In all the century I’ve been here, never known one of them to kill a mortal.  And never known them to hurt one on purpose either.  Accidental injuries we’ve had, often cause the mortal’s busy scrambling to get away, but never death.  Which is about twenty less than what I can say of the Host.” “The Ghost Host killed twenty people?”  Her mouth felt dry. “That I’m aware of.  Won’t be surprised if he’s killed more and did off with the evidence.”  

“But why do you—“ “Now young’un.  We’ve got to get you home and find poor Michael.  We can’t spend all night talking here.”  Mr. Mortimer motioned for her to follow as he began to hobble his way out of the room, a cane in one hand and his box in the other.  “You’re both gonna need to get home, and the sooner the better.” She willingly followed him into the dark hallway, still burning with questions, but just was desperate to find Michael.   The unearthly glow he gave off lit the way, and illuminated floorboards full of dust and cobwebs.  She was just about to question him some more when the door slammed shut behind her on its own and she visibly jumped some feet into the air.   “Sorry.” He said, looking genuinely guilty. “I’m so used to being free to do that here that I clean forgot you’re probably not.” He just opened up a million other questions related to how ghosts manipulated physical objects, but as they began their trek down the hall she went with something she was most concerned about. “Why do you all let a murderer free like that to torment…erm….m-mortals?  What happens if he decided to go into town??? You’ve been to town, so he should be able to leave too, right?”

“That fellow is only free on the account that he’s one of the four most powerful in the whole house.  Otherwise, I tell you, Young’un, he’d be locked up just as much as the other malicious souls.  But the Madame likes him free, and I can’t be damned to know what goes through that woman’s head sometimes.” His cane clacked against the floorboards with each swing. “And yes, he can go into town.  But he doesn’t like to do so, and I can’t be damned to know what goes through his mind either.” The dark gloomy hallways looked a lot like all the ones she’d seen before; stretched out and going on for miles.  Yet it was remarkable how much friendlier it felt walking beside someone she knew who had their own built in flashlight.  Who was their own built in flashlight.   “Who are the other four?” “The Fearsome Foursome.”  He gave a snort, “There’s the Madame Leota; I believe I’ve mentioned her before.  She’s was a powerful psychic in live, and an even more powerful one in death.  That damnable wretch, the so-called ‘Ghost Host’.  There’s also meself.  And Mr. Solomon Gracey.  Any one of us is a match for the other, or so they say.” “Then…then you could drive off the Ghost Host?  I don’t have to deal with him anymore??”  Safety.  Real safety.   And she felt so much relief, even just thinking of it.  The Ghost Host not even being able to touch her.   “Normally I could… And I would…”

He gave her a sideline look of stern disapproval. “And he is exactly the reason why I didn’t want either of you coming ‘round here…” She winced and gave a half smile as an apology. He continued walking.  “…But I don’t think you have a know-how into how much effort it takes to go into town like I did all this afternoon and evening.  In here, the Madame’s power helps with making us…you know.” He waved his cane hand up and down his form to draw attention to it.

“Look like something.”  He said. “Out there, you’re left to figure yourself out.  Put up a complicated illusion that gets people thinking you’ve got a body like them; solid and everything.  Takes the wind out of you, even after all these years of practice.  May not have a body anymore, but can still tire out; remember that, young’un.  So we best be avoiding him, just in case.” As they reached the length of the hallway, he opened up an old door with a gargoyle statue framing the top of it.  Even in the gloomy darkness, she could see a set of stairs going down.  Giant spider webs stretched from one end of the stairway to the other, and her queasiness returned to see what looked like a pair of eyes staring back at her.                                The house was still watching.

[mal-dambra-blog]

Maeve x Sha Lin?

Nine days ago, I made a post on how I saw a surprising amount of maeve x sha lin on the internet and was curious on what you guys thought of it...

Here’s the comments I’ve piled up to date (10/15/2017):

@aether-somerset​ said:

I view them as close friends that mess with and make fun of each other a lot. I guess I don’t mind it, but I also don’t want it on my dash. Maeve is canonically 18 and Sha’s probably mid twenties so the age gap doesn’t bother me, I just can’t really see them being,,, together

@dementeddiscord​ said:

FRIENDS ONLY PLS

Not to sound rude and all like I feel like Maeve should be sort of a character that finds herself in her adventures of adulthood sure she can have people in her life like shalin as her best friend and talus as like a little brother but she herself needs to know who she really is a bad person or a role model of her own

Just my opinion basically

@enderbane​ said:

the age gap between them seems way to much for me to be comfortable with it. but i think theyd be friends!

Last but not least, a wild @rururinchan​ DM’ed me this:

Sha lin x Maeve though? I'm not particularly into it cuz I actually headcanon Sha Lin as gay (as fuck). I do like it as a BrOTP I feel like they would be that unlikely duo that didn't like each other at all in the beginning

Maeve teases Sha Lin a lot. A LOT. Especially since the events of Maeve’s trailer LMAO

So the responses I got weren’t supportive of the pairing in a romantic way. Damn it. I wanted some spicy discourse. Why y’all have to be so unanimous. Then the only way for me to create some drama is to supp-

I jest, I jest. I did promise to give y’all my viewpoint on this, so here I am now- trying to furiously type things up. But I’d like to briefly mention that these points are only coming from my head, and obviously not backed up by Hi-Rez. 

So let me start: 

The ship itself isn’t unreasonable. I can see where it comes from; Maeve’s “my prince” and “I like your pants” are enough to stir up something between the two. 

Also, some can think that BOTH are reasonably young. I, myself, believe that Sha Lin is in his mid-twenties (or slightly older? I don’t know), but some others can think that Sha Lin is just a fresh, young warrior around the age of 18-20. Another portion, in fact, probably wouldn’t care about the ages. Hence, the ship sails! (P.S. There’s cute fanart! Hard to resist, eh?)

I have to say, however, I’m not the biggest advocate of the pairing. Not even as a BroTP. Of course Sha Lin would try to be nice to Maeve, but the pining direction is likely to be

Maeve -> Sha Lin, in which the latter may respond “I prefer to stay at range, but to each their own. (Response from unknown Champion, possibly Maeve) ”

That is, in fact, an actual voice line. It is unclear whether it is actually directed to Maeve, but it is a possibility. Also, he’d consider her as a comrade more than a ‘friend’. But another voice-line tells me that a friendship can happen: 

Sha Lin: "This will be a glorious and honorable battle!" (Question to an unknown Champion, possibly Maeve)

However, this depends on the voice’s tone, which is pretty ambiguous atm. If he takes into account of Maeve’s status as a ‘cat burglar’, he’d say it to persuade(?) her to fight honorably. If he considers Maeve as an ally, he’d say it in terms of morale boost (which seems more likely). It’s just like Sha Lin’s “What happened to you?” to Androxus. The moment I read it, I was excited that some sort of serious and heart-breaking angst might happen. Yet, the moment I listened to it... Nope. What the fuck is angst. 

In the former case, though, it’s pretty hard to contextualize. So I’m not sure about a BroTP between the two. I do imagine them as somewhere between an acquaintance and a friend! Also, headcanon: Maeve is a giant teaser.

Also, Ruru mentioned about Maeve’s trailer. I do have something to say about this. It is a popular opinion that the person Maeve attacked in her trailer is Sha Lin, but dude. I made a blog dedicated to a relatively unpopular character. So like, I have unpopular opinions that I am willing to share. Again, opinions are always personal.

There’s two ways I see it. One is blatantly “It’s not Sha Lin confirmed”, and the other one is “If it happens to be Sha Lin, I don’t know how I am going to form headcanons of this”.

So the first one:

1. It’s hard to recognize whose voice it is just by “AaaH, AAAhhH, and AAAaAHHH”. (maybe because i have a shitty ear)

2. I didn’t recognize that it was potentially Sha Lin, although I did spend a huge portion of time going through his voice line page in Paladins Wiki. I doubt some others will. (seriously, do I just have a shitty ear?)

3. I only accept it as “actually the character” when they’re shown on camera (or shown at least un-subtly). Kudos to @queezleposts, as it was exactly what they articulated. For instance, it was clearly shown who Kinessa shot in her trailer (Androxus), whereas Androxus’ trailer wasn’t targeted at anybody.

4. For the older trailers, Hi-Rez tends to "reuse assets for cinematics” (again thank you Queezle) so that they wouldn’t have to devote time making voices/figures for less important characters that would only come up once or twice in the trailers. Triggerman Buck in Lex’s trailer can be an example of this. So just because they used a part from Sha Lin’s voice pack doesn’t really convince me that it was him without any further implication.

The second one:

The trailer quality of Paladins has increased significantly, and kudos to Hi-Rez for their improvements. However, the significance of the trailers in terms of lore is pretty debatable. On one hand, it is pretty good since it basically shows a bit of the target character’s personality. On the other hand, however, a lot of the older ones aren’t enough to show inter-character relations. 

Not to mention that Paladins is a fighting game, which means that fight scenes are going to be involved in the trailers/teasers. It also means that a lot of them are more likely going for the visuals than the actual lore itself. Advertising the game with cool looking action scenes is great in the marketing aspect. It’s not ‘wrong’, either. So Hi-Rez can jumble up some cool looking characters (more likely, the “title” characters like Ying and Ash) and make them fight against each other. Would it mean that they’re going to be on the same faction lore-wise? Debatable.

So let’s head back to the core question: if under the assumption that Maeve attacked Sha Lin in her teaser, would it imply that they have a special thing between the two? That’s also debatable. But I’m a person with opinions, so I’d say, "eeh”. 

That sums up for the first ship of the table (+ a tangent). Talking about various ships and listening to your opinions are actually really great! I’d like to do this sometime more often, only if it weren’t for the hiatus.