#that said i welcome everyone in this fandom who likes bloodborne

[katyspersonal]

I don't understand how there are people still supporting your content after it's clear you are an emotionally unstable narcissist. I swear some people care about their dumb fandoms more than common human decency.

First - I refuse to let my lore posts, drawings and theories be called 'content'. I protest. It is a very soulless term that reduces creativity (the very expression of the soul, mind you!) to some sort of shallow and more importantly, replaceable good. "Why you consume the content from this PROBLEMATIC :( person" in the same vein as "Why you buy your car fuel from an unethical corporation" is absolutely absurd in any way, because creations are not physical goods but something unique.

Second, you seem to be confused on what the fandom entails.

Being a fan of something, in fact, doesn't... really entail all that much? Being a fan of something doesn't, and will NEVER mean that you subscribe to certain cultural, religious, political or humanity values or opinions, it will NEVER be only for the ones the loudest people in the crowd deemed "right" and "pure" enough, and certainly it will NEVER be only for people with clear history *cough cough* or people of "proper" mental state *COUGH cough*.

The only, and only, and only, and ONLY "requirement" for being a Bloodborne fan is - to care about Bloodborne. Ironically, this is something people I tend to become antagonists with often fail at, as there is a difference between 'Bloodborne fan' and 'Mariadeline fan that knows nothing about BB lore and holds only interests in how to shame men more and what kind of fans to declare "problematic"' *COUGH COUGH* god sorry guys, got a bad cough attack during this ask fhdhgfds

But, again, I think we the people that obsess with this or that media came to the conclusion that gatekeeping leads to another extreme - the whole thing with shaming artists that draw something not accurate, and think something not 100% correct to the canon is 'dirtying' the canon. You know, the whole 'oh you are fan of X band? name 40 songs' thing. So I think gatekeeping should be avoided unless someone appears who is both completely uneducated about lore AND tries to set their own rules.

*COOOOOUGH COOOOOUGH*

But, yeah. Your confusion is likely caused by the fact that people who like Bloodborne... love to read about Bloodborne, and not about what user should be blacklisted and what character is this or that identity and what this or that character is "problematic" etc. I object the idea that certain game/movie/book/etc is only for "right" kind of people and I think we as society at this rate are capable of separating interaction with the fictional universe and personality/personal lives.

[mrslittletall]

Title: Hunters of the Abyss (Chapter 1) Fandom: Made in Abyss/Bloodborne Characters: Laurenc, Gehrman, Micolash, Rom, Maria, Master Willem Word Count: 4.561 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32531749/chapters/80689318

Summary: On the island Belouska, in the middle of the town Orth, lies a gigantic chasm filled with precious relics and dangerous beasts as well as a mysterious curse, only known as the Abyss.

Many have ventured into the Abyss, but not everybody came back. This is one of the tales about the Abyss, in which a group of delvers takes the challenge to brave the Abyss... and maybe turn from the hunted to the hunters.

(Author's note: This is a crossover, so I wrote up a neat little FAQ which can be found at the end of the chapter. If you have questions, please look there first. I may update it when more questions arise.

Now onto this one: I watched Made in Abyss in 2020 and fell in complete and utter love with the world. Just one year prior I played through Bloodborne and well, these two fandoms had to meet! I planned for this fic for quite some time, but being busy with various writing challenges and the pandemic happening, stuff got postponed and postponed until I finally found the time to sit down and write chapter one.

The characters in this chapter are still children, but they will grow up into adults over the timespan of the fic. There will be quite a few time skips actually. The first few chapters will mainly be world building and exposure.

Last but not least, this is both Made in Abyss and Bloodborne, so be prepared for some soul crushing angst and dark stuff happening. Just... nothing will happen to children. Other than Tsukushi, I prefer to torture adults and older teenagers.

So our protagonists are safe... for now...

If you enjoyed this, please don't hesitate leaving me a comment. Both BB and MiA are tiny fandoms, so I don't expect that this will get much attention, so knowing that someone enjoyed it will be all the much sweeter.)

„Laurence, breathe!“

The boy called Laurence took a deep breath, not even having realized that he had held his breath in the first place.

“Sorry, Gehrman.”, he gasped out. “I am... nervous.”

“Of course, it's your first time.”, Gehrman said, glancing over to the group of Red Whistles which had gathered around their appointed Moon Whistle, which they all called Master Willem. Laurence' gaze followed Gehrman's. The children in front of Master Willem were all orphans from the Balchero Orphanage, like Laurence himself. The only difference was, that all of them already had gone delving at least once, while it was the first time for Laurence. He had only recently turned ten.

“Every Red Whistle gets nervous when they delve for the first time. You don't have to worry too much about going down, though, it's going up that should concern you. Speaking of going, it appears we are moving.”

“Right, the curse.”, Laurence wrinkled his nose at the thought as he started to walk alongside Gehrman. He of course knew all the effects of the curse of every single layer, but he hadn't experienced them personally. Yet. “Dizziness and nausea for the first layer.”

“Correct. And I bet with you that you have to puke on your way up, I haven't seen a single first timer who hasn't.”, Gehrman grinned at him. Laurence just gave him a look.

“I even manage to get sick without any curse affecting me, so that bet doesn't exactly feel fair.”, he said, crossing his arms. “And I certainly won't get into any competitions. You are two years older than me and used to the curse of the first layer already.”

“True.”, Gehrman said. “But before you know it, you will be twelve as well and be allowed to go deeper into the Abyss. Before we both know it, we will be fifteen and be able to turn into Blue Whistles. Time started to move much faster once I was allowed to delve.”

“Or we could die a horrible death down there.”, Laurence said, looking down at his feet. He was wearing the standard delver boots. Every Red Whistle was wearing the standard delving gear, consisting of leather pants, a vest, gloves, said boots and a helmet. Laurence didn't wear the helmet on his head though, but instead it was clasped behind it. He disliked how it flattened his locks of auburn hair. He had tried so hard to preserve his hairdo once he tried on the delver gear, but to no avail.

“Are you thinking about your parents?”, Gehrman asked, making Laurence stop in his tracks, but not for long, as Gehrman pushed him along so that they wouldn't lose sight of the group in front of them.

“...Is it that obvious?”, Laurence looked at the ground next to him, not feeling like he wanted to look into Gehrman's eyes. “I always wished they could come with me to my first delving...”

“I know, we all wished our parents could have come with us.”, Gehrman said, laying a hand on Laurence' shoulder. “We all know how you feel...”

The both of them fell silent after this exchange. Laurence' parents had both been delvers, Black Whistle's even and he always had been eager for the day he was old enough to earn his red whistle and go on his first delve. However, that day never came, because around three months before his tenth birthday, Laurence got the message that they had died on their latest delve.

He had gotten a warm welcome in the Balchero Orphanage where almost every child of delvers landed sooner or later, but the pain of their recent passing was still strong. He really really had wanted for them to be around on his first delve.

Laurence had the feeling that was why Gehrman had decided to come with him even though he was allowed to go deeper already. The older boy had a certain fondness for Laurence and the two of them soon had become friends. He also had befriended a few of the other children, a boy named Micolash, who had a face like a gremlin and deep black hair which were messy curls, a girl named Maria which wore a beautiful white ponytail and a girl named Rom, with tan skin and straight black hair. Laurence always had the feeling that Micolash seemed to like her. Gehrman, as the oldest of their group, held them together and was kind of an older brother to the four children. All of them were heading down on that delve today.

“That's why I am nervous.”, Laurence suddenly said.

“Huh?”, Gehrman put his attention back on Laurence, clearly not having expected for him to speak again so soon.

“Nervous about going down here. I have dreamed my whole life about this day. The image of the Abyss is pretty much my first memory. I always wanted to come down here and see it with my own eyes, but now that it happened, I can't help but be nervous. Of course I knew that delvers died in here, but... that never was something that should happen to someone close to me...”

Gehrman came closer to Laurence and patted his shoulder. “Laurence, once we stop, I have to show you something. I am sure it will put your mind at ease. But for now, how about you stop looking at the ground and look at what is right in front of you?”

Laurence finally released his gaze from his boots and once he saw what was in front of him, he almost lost his breath again.

The Abyss... it was nothing short but beautiful. He saw green grass and lush vegetation, in the distance he could see a river flowing through the netherworld. There were little animals scurrying around between flowers of fortitude, butterflies landing on them, collecting their nectar. Even though Orth was covered in these same flowers, their sight never stopped being beautiful. Laurence wondered if the flower came from the Abyss or if it had taken hold in the Abyss. It was common for them to throw their petals into the Abyss alongside the ashes of the deceased.

“Beautiful.”, he said, not knowing where to look first. He had been so caught up in his own head that he had completely forgotten to enjoy the experience.

“As soon as I saw it for the first time, I knew it was worth coming down here.”, Gehrman smiled at him. Then, the group in front of them stopped.

“Ah, it seems we have arrived.”, Gehrman said and then pushed Laurence' helmet onto his auburn hair. “You are supposed to wear the helmet on your head, not behind it.”

“I don't like the helmet.”, Laurence grumbled, adjusting it so that it would fit better.

“Well, better having some messed up hair than being dead from a stray rock.”, Gehrman shrugged. “You get used to it. Also, there is a glowstone embedded into it, it will help you when it gets dark.”

“Alright.”, Laurence said, stopping as well once he and Gehrman had reached the group. His gaze fell on Master Willem. He looked already very old, but apparently was still fit enough to come with them into the Abyss. When Laurence asked Gehrman about him, Gehrman told him that Master Willem always had looked old. Seeing that a delver with such an advanced age still existed, made Laurence feel a little bit better.

Master Willem looked them over, silently taking stock if every child under his care was still there and then spoke to the group: “Everyone's here? Good. Most of you have already been down here once, so you can continue like the last time. Laurence, it's your first time, so you stay with Gehrman today. I am here if any of you have any questions. Remember, we search for relics. Keep out of the danger zones and don't go out of sight. Don't eat outside of the assigned breaks, come tell me if you need a bathroom break and don't go up on your own.”

A combined “Understood, Master Willem.” sounded from the children's throats and then everyone was off. Laurence kept standing where he was, unsurely looking at Gehrman.

“So... what do we do now?”, he asked.

“First, I will show you what I talked about earlier.”, Gehrman said and took Laurence' hand, guiding him a few steps away until they stood next to the wall of the Abyss. There, Gehrman laid Laurence' hand on the wall.

“Your parents died here, in the great chasm. This means, they have become a part of it now. While their physical bodies aren't there anymore, their souls will be with you each time you go down into the Abyss. Go on, ask them for their blessing.”

Laurence felt the cool stone wall under his hand. That was the Abyss, a part of it... his parents had died in here. Their souls went back into the Abyss. He knew that. It was how Orth functioned, what Orth believed. He heard that other countries believed in something like a god, some figure in the heavens that they never saw and he never got it. Why did they believe in something that they couldn't see?

The Abyss was there, it was tangible, he could touch it. In fact, he touched it right at this moment. At this moment, Laurence felt a connection. It felt like everyone who had entered this place was in unison with him. That also had to include his parents. He wondered if they could hear him, but he would never find out if he wouldn't try.

“Mom... Dad... please watch over me.”, he whispered, opening his eyes, seeing how Gehrman smiled at him.

“And now we can start our delve.”, he said. “Follow me, I will show you how it works.”

Laurence followed Gehrman, always having questions on his mind. He probably should just spill them, no reason to stay silent. “Master Willem told us that we should tell him if we need a bathroom break.”, he started. “Why?” Wouldn't it be fine to just find a corner to duck down into?

“Ah, we are not supposed to leave his sight.”, Gehrman answered. “And he has to know where we are when we are under his care. We are also supposed to take a partner with us, so that the other can keep watch. It's how it works down here, you get used to it.”

“Hm, makes sense...”, Laurence said. “And we are forbidden from eating anything, other than when a break is called? What about drinking?”

“You are allowed to drink just fine, but we shouldn't eat outside of the designated breaks, because it can make us a bit sluggish. We are supposed to all take a little break after eating and it is easier when we all eat at the same time. Besides, sometimes new Red Whistles find food in the Abyss and eat it without thinking... and well, not everything is safe to eat.”

Laurence shuddered a bit at the thought of actually eating something poisonous. Yeah, he should stay away from anything that was unknown to him.

“Do you have any more questions or can we start delving?”, Gehrman asked, standing in front of what looked like a loose stone wall.

“Well, besides from what we are supposed to do, no, I guess.”, Laurence said, fidgeting with his fingers.

“It's easy enough.”, Gehrman smiled, getting a pickaxe out of his rucksack. “We search for loose stone structures like this and break it down.” Gehrman demonstrated his words with a wide swing of the pickaxe and soon it crumbled, revealing a small cave beneath it. “Then we get into it and search for anything that looks like a relic.”

Laurence just stood there when the wall crumbled, now very much knowing why they were supposed to wear the helmet. That would hurt a lot when stray debris would hit him. After a minute or so, he silently followed Gehrman into the little cave, his glowstone providing him with a small light source.

“And that is why the helmets are so useful.”, Gehrman said, turning to Laurence and putting something that looked like a vase or something into his hands. “Look for anything that doesn't look natural or simply unusual. The more relics we find, the better. They give us more allowance the more we can unearth.”

“I am sometimes amazed that we still can find relics...”, Laurence said, getting on his knees and searching through the rubble. “Wasn't the Abyss discovered 1.900 years ago?”

“Yes, but that doesn't mean that Orth existed that long.”, Gehrman said, his trained eyes scanning the bottom of the cave with ease and soon he had a second relic located which went into his rucksack. “Besides, all the good stuff has already been found. All we unearth is trash. Valuable trash though.”

“Hm, I guess...”, Laurence shrugged, getting a bit frustrated with searching the rubble. If anything had been in there, it probably had been smashed to bits.

“Laurence, don't search the entrance, come deeper into the cave.”, Gehrman said. “You rarely find relics at the entrance.”

“Oh alright.”, Laurence was more than glad to get away from the rubble and he wandered to Gehrman's place, searching in the opposite direction of him. When he saw something glistening in the wall, he approached it with a vague hope, but instead a yelp escaped him when he saw that it was a human skeleton!

“Laurence, is everything alright?”, Gehrman came over to him and once he saw the skeleton, he was quick to calm him down. “Oh don't worry about those, this is a praying skeleton, they are apparently 2.000 years old. Isn't that fascinating?”

“But... the Abyss was only discovered 1.900 years ago...?”, Laurence repeated his earlier statement, still a bit shaking.

“That doesn't mean that it hasn't existed for longer, don't you think?”, Gehrman said, his smile in the vague light of the glowstone looking more creepy than reassuring. Laurence shook his head and then got up. “I think I want to get out of this cave...”

“Come on, Laurence, you are getting used to the sight. There are still relics to find in here. How about you come over and help me with searching?”

Laurence looked back at the skeleton, then to the cave exit, which wasn't even far away, the cave actually was more of a little alcove in the wall, and then nodded, walking over to Gehrman. “I just didn't think my first find in here would be human bones...”, he murmured.

“Nobody expects to find them at first. I should have warned you, sorry.”, Gehrman patted Laurence' shoulder and then pointed at the floor. “Now, help me find anything unusual that you can see.”

“Alright.”, Laurence kneeled down, glad that the thick leather of his pants protected his knees and observed the floor. A few minutes later, he had several round and flat things in his hands, that clearly weren't rocks.

“I found something.”, he said. “I think...”, he then added, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious about his find. As Gehrman put his attention on him, he showed it to him. “What could that be?”

“Currency maybe?”, Gehrman suggested, looking at the relics. “There once must have been a civilisation in here, they probably used it to pay for wares and stuff.”

“Hm, makes sense.”, Laurence said, putting the “coins” in his own rucksack. “It doesn't seem to be very valuable though.”

“Like I said, most stuff in here is trash anyway. You will rarely find something good. And if, then don't even think about keeping it.” Gehrman let something fall in his own rucksack. It looked like a statue of some kind. Maybe for rituals or anything?

“What happens if we keep relics?”, Laurence asked, curious. He knew they weren't supposed to keep relics, but he never had asked what the punishment for it would be.

“Then the punishment will be worse than being hanged naked.”, Gehrman said, rather casually, as Laurence' face fell. He still had nightmares sometimes about the time a prank on Master Willem had gone too far and this had been his punishment, it had been the peak of uncomfortableness and humiliation... and they had a punishment that was even worse than that?! He didn't want to find out about it.

“Yes, so make sure to deliver all of your relics. We are taking stock of them anyway.”, Gehrman said as he saw the drained colour from Laurence' face.

“Understood.”, Laurence said and quietly kept searching, filling his rucksack with a bit more odds and ends that looked like someone's dinnerware. Maybe it was. If there were skeletons that were 2.000 years old in the Abyss, then why not their homes as well?

After he and Gehrman had cleared out the cave, which had taken far longer than expected, it was already time for their lunch break, as Master Willem was rallying them up to take a break and eat what they had brought along. The problem was that Micolash wasn't making any advances to come and sit down with them.

“That oddball again.”, Laurence sighed, getting up when Micolash still didn't move even though Master Willem had called his name three times already. “I better drag him over here.”

“Do what you must.”, Gehrman said, knowing that Laurence kind of could connect with Micolash, he always had been the odd one of the group and only when Laurence had arrived at the orphanage had he managed to get out of his shell.

“Micolash, what are you doing?”, Laurence said, stopping next to his friend, feeling a bit dizzy when he noticed that Micolash stood at the edge of a rather steep cliff and was staring down into it.

Micolash raised his head, slowly, almost looking creepy and stared at Laurence. Then, he opened his mouth and said: “If you stare in the Abyss, does the Abyss stare back?”

What? Laurence felt a bit at a loss at what to reply to this question, when Rom spoke and shouted over to them: “If you want to get swallowed up, then stare in the Abyss, otherwise head over finally, so that we can finally eat!”

Laurence heard both Gehrman and Maria giggle at Rom's statement and couldn't help but grin himself at it, while Micolash actually looked... a bit embarrassed. Maybe. It was hard to tell.

“You will understand one day.”, he murmured as he finally got into motion. “All of you will understand one day.”

“What, that staring into the maw of the netherworld is making you speak in riddles?”, Rom was at it again and the children around her started to giggle again, as Micolash glared at her a bit.

While Laurence had a hard time to suppress his own giggling, he said: “She's just teasing you, Micolash, that's all.” Though he had to agree with Rom mostly, the Abyss couldn't stare back if you stared into it. It didn't have any eyes, right? ...Right? Suddenly, Laurence wasn't too sure about it anymore. He should stop thinking about it and finally eat.

Laurence joined the group and sat down on a rock, eagerly unpacking his lunch. This morning had been a special day, not only because it was his first delve, but also because that meant that he could eat rice for the first time in his life. Orth, as a city on an island, had to import rice and therefore it had turned into a delicacy and was a food that only delvers were allowed to eat, at the day they went to delve into the Abyss, because it could be their least meal and they deserved to have something special then.

Gehrman had prepared the rice into rice balls, a simple dish with salt and alga and it had been one of the most awesome things Laurence had ever tasted, even though Gehrman told him that was one of the simplest forms in which rice could be prepared. He actually had to be stopped from overeat himself, so he had taken the leftovers with him and was now happily munching on it, enjoying the taste of the food he did had to admire from afar for so many years.

As Laurence was enjoying his food, he could hear Gehrman talk. As he put his attention on him, he saw Gehrman sitting next to Maria. Apparently he was asking the girl questions and she was answering them. Laurence slid a little bit closer to overhear their conversation.

“And what are these insects called?”, Gehrman asked, pointing at something in the grass, sitting on top of a flower of fortitude. Laurence' eyes sparkled when he saw the butterfly, far bigger than the ones in Orth and with sparkly wings.

“It's a crystal wing.”, Maria answered. “Their wings sparkle like this because of the sun that gets reflected from the forcefield. They try to dazzle predators with them.”

“Correct.”, Gehrman said. Laurence still had his eyes on the crystal wing, what a beautiful creature, when suddenly a lizard-like animal appeared out of nowhere and had the butterfly in its mouth. Nothing short but shocked, Laurence lowered the half eaten rice ball, feeling as if his food got stuck in his throat.

“And this?”, Gehrman asked, both his and Maria's eyes on the lizard.

“A stalking lizard.”, Maria replied. “Always attacks from the shadows, seemingly from nowhere, the prey won't even know what killed it. Insects are its favoured food.”

“The Abyss sure is cruel...”, Laurence mentioned from his spot, still not feeling able to keep eating on.

“It's something you will get used to.”, Gehrman said. “At least we are not part of their diet. Actually the stalking lizards can be quite tasty, if you manage to catch them. Dastardly fast though.”

“One time I thought I had one and only had the tail in my hand.”, Maria said. “And they can even get rid of their legs if they please. They can grow all their limbs back without trouble.”

“Sadly, only the meat that isn't extremities is palatable.”, Gehrman added.

“I see...”, Laurence said. He knew that they sometimes got meat from the Abyss in the orphanage to eat, but nobody actually had ever told him what exactly it was they were eating. He wondered if he had maybe eaten these lizards already.

“Do you want to know more about the creatures of the first layer, Laurence?”, Gehrman asked. “I was just testing if Maria remembered everything I told her. Feel free to join us and listen in.”

“Gladly.”, Laurence said and got up to sit closer to them. As he ate the rest of his rice ball and washed it down with some water, he listened to Gehrman and Maria going over various creatures of the first layer, the different insect species, the well known hammer beaks, a little rodent that was pretty much harmless, but could mess with trying to steal the smaller relics, the trouts that could be caught in the underground river and many more. He knew that a lot of the creatures in the Abyss actually were still unnamed, but he was sure that the first layer probably had a pretty complete encyclopedia of the wild life.

After they all had eaten, Gehrman pointed out that it was the perfect time for taking a bathroom break before they continued with their work, so they did exactly that, with Micolash, Gehrman and Laurence being one group and Maria and Rom the other. Laurence found it made sense that the boys and girls would try to stay apart from each other during it.

Then, they continued what they were doing before lunch break, with Master Willem having a vigilant eye on all of them. Laurence stayed near Gehrman and absorbed everything that his friend could tell him about the Abyss and about delving in general. At the end of the day, both of their rucksacks were filled with various relics that looked like they were just common household objects. While Gehrman kept insisting that it only was trash, Laurence knew that even the trash could be sold for a high price into foreign countries. It was how Orth managed to stay so wealthy.

“You did well today, children.”, Master Willem said as they all presented their finds. “We will rate all of your finds back at the orphanage. The better you managed, the deeper you will be allowed into the Abyss. We were only 50 metres deep today.”

“Understood.”, the children replied in unison. Laurence was pretty excited. After he had seen what was pretty much the beginning of the Abyss, he already was eager to see more. But first... first they had to get back up.

Which meant that he would experience the curse for the first time.

You will puke., Gehrman had said and as much as Laurence wanted to believe that it wouldn't happen, how bad could a little dizziness be...

The moment they had started to go upwards though, he had been hit by the worst dizziness in his life. That wasn't any usual dizziness... his head hurt, his vision seemed to swim, he actually had trouble seeing clearly and that alone was bad enough so that his stomach was revolting from the mixed signals his body gave. Laurence had to clasp a hand in front of his mouth, trying so hard to swallow down the bile that tried to force its way out, but had to give up after only a minute or two and retched on the ground, being on both his hands and knees while it happened, heavily breathing at the unpleasant sensation.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and when he looked up, tears in his eyes from the burning in his throat, he saw Gehrman smiling at him. “You will get used to it.”, he said and offered Laurence a hand which he took. “But for now get used to throwing up once you ascend. At least you are not the only one.”

Gehrman gestured at the other kids and Laurence felt a tiny bit better when he saw that Micolash pretty much experienced the same fate as him.

Still, he would be more than glad once he wouldn't have to throw up anymore after going up, but he had the feeling that would take quite a while.

After they had fully ascended and the awful feeling of the curse slowly vanished, Master Willem led them back to the orphanage where they were supposed to rest and then tally up their finds. Laurence could only think about one thing though.

It had been his first delve and he had returned alive. And still, he couldn't wait to go down into the Abyss a second time.

It truly had a fascinating aura around it, it was as if he was drawn to it.

The second delve couldn't come fast enough. (FAQ:

1) I have never played Bloodborne? Will I still understand this fic?

This fic takes place in the world of Made in Abyss. I simply put some Bloodborne characters into the world of Made in Abyss and act like if they had grown up here. There will be a ton of Bloodborne references though, but you don't have to have played the game to understand the plot I am going for. And the characters... we know very little about them, so they are basically 80 to 90 % OCs, so you can just see them as OCs if you please.

2) I have never watched Made in Abyss? Will I still understand this fic?

I strongly advise to be familiar with Made in Abyss for this fic, for it takes place in the world of Made in Abyss. You don't have to be familiar with the plot though, for I am going for a completely different plot detached from the canon of the anime/manga.

I will do my best to explain the world building though, which is 50 % canon and 50 % my own. Anyone familiar with the canon feel free to point out where my headcanons took place.

3) Will characters from MiA show up?

Any MiA characters will likely only be cameos, for I want to focus on the life of the Bloodborne characters here. Don't expect that anyone of the MiA characters has a very huge role. They will more be mentioned in passing and appear for short whiles, but never play a big role.

4) When does this fic take place? Is it during the canon timeline of MiA?

NOPE. This fic takes place before the canon of the manga/anime. During the first chapter, Riko hasn't even been born yet. This first chapter takes place around 20 to 25 years before canon and even after the characters grew up, there won't be much overlap, if any.

5) Why are you using the Old Hunter characters?

Because they are my favs, haha ^^ I have a lot of headcanons about them and they work best for the story I have in mind.

6) Laurence as POV character? Really?

Yep, because he's my ultra FAV. Truth to be told, I actually made up this AU so that I could roleplay Laurence in an MiA verse, but I liked the idea so much that I wanted to make a whole fic out of it.

7) Why did you decide to write a crossover of these two things?

When I watched Made in Abyss, I saw Bloodborne at every corner. Then I thought up Laurence' MiA verse and then... well, I read an interview from Tsukushi himself and he actually said that Bloodborne was one of his big inspirations for Made in Abyss! Speak about coincidences!) Chapter 2

[antihero-writings]

The Offspring of a Dream

Fandom: Bloodborne

Fic Summary: Why does the Doll call you “good”?

Notes: 

Obviously the lore in this game is very hidden and up for interpretation, so this fic in part has to do with my personal interpretation of things, so please keep that in mind! I know there's a theory about the Doll being a Great One/Avatar out there (haven't read up about it much through), but currently I find there's something rather beautiful about the Doll truly just being a doll, who is genuinely kind, and just trying to help us out, because the game has little to no other characters like that. I also know whether or not we are "good" is definitely up for great debate, but I'm the kind of person who likes to see/read redemption into everything, so this is just my rather optimistic interpretation of events.

Also, I don't necessarily ship the Hunter and the Doll, but I do think it's a cute ship and enjoy content for it...So you're free to interpret the internal monologue as platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer.

This is one of the only times I've used second person, so go easy on me...I chose second person because I didn't find third or first nearly as compelling for it.

I'd really really appreciate it if you could leave a comment!! They seriously do make my week, and give me the motivation to keep writing!!

I also have another Bloodborne fic about Vicar Amelia's transformation, I'd love it if you could check that out too!! Links in a reblog!!

The Offspring of a Dream: 

“New Hunter”

“Mister Hunter”

“Hunter”

“A Hunter!”

“Moon-Scented Hunter”

“Miss Hunter!”

“Good Hunter of the Church,

"have you seen the thread of light?”

“Welcome home,

Good Hunter.

What is it you desire?”—

No name.

Not a greeting, nor title.

No adjectives or addendums like ‘holy’ or ‘accursed,’ ‘beast,’ or ‘man.’ Not a crow, or a wolf, or an avenger, or a knight. Nor a roar of what you hunted.

A lonely hunter without a name, or a word.

Just a hunter, who may or may not be good.

And it was a doll, a doll who had a dreamer, but was equally lonely—

Is this all in my mind? Did I dream her up?

It was this Doll who said you were good, every time you arrived in the dream, always ready to turn your desires, the echoes of a scourge, into strength.

She said it faithfully, and it was not easy to recognize when she said it, it wasn’t a greeting, or a title.

It was a prayer.

Because she had watched a thousand “good hunters” walk through the dream, and a thousand fall. A thousand keep her company, a thousand ask for her to make them stronger with the echoes of their killing. A thousand become drunk with blood, trapped in a very different dream, that some might call nightmare. And a thousand become something other than a hunter…something other than good.

A thousand graves.

Graves for the ones who woke up.

So with a title she prayed to the moon that this one—this one—would be good.

That’s all she needed. That’s all any of them ever needed; one good man.

The title ‘hunter’ was meant to be synonymous with good. A force of holiness to purge the impurity. …But their name became equivalent with evil. Or maybe it was from the very start.

The spreading corruption burned.

Before the blood parched their lips and ravaged their bones. After. At the end of the day, we’re all human. At the end of the day, we’re all beasts.

Born of the blood… undone by the blood…

So she—inhuman, human—she prayed that one day there would be a hunter who could fight the monsters and not become one. That the blood wouldn’t burn and coil and wrap its tendrils around them, twist them inside out, and make them something more than just a “good hunter”…and so much less. She cast goodness over you, as if reminding you not to give in to the beast. Not to give in to your humanity. Reminding you that though you were a hunter, though you were drenched in blood, with heart full of holes, and brain full of eyes, you could still be good.

She put her hands together and she prayed. She prayed, and she helped you on your journey, she channeled death into strength, she whispered, and she tended to frail, living flowers, and feeble, dying, old men, and she cried.

Any god-fearing man, not burdened with an overabundance of naiveté, would know that dolls don’t whisper. They don’t ask if you love them. They don’t move. They can’t help. They don’t pray. And they definitely don’t cry.

Dolls sit lifeless on the floors of children’s nurseries, and the abandoned workshops of bitter, maniacal, old men.

Is this just a dream? Will I know you when I wake?

What’s waking worth without you?

If the gods don’t love me I still promise to love you.

You watched human hands twist into claws, skin into fur, faces into tentacles, tongues into snakes, and eyes into eyes, and wondered if perhaps this doll, with her porcelain skin and hair, with her tears and prayer, if she was more human than the rest. This doll—who asked about gods and love, who cared for you, who hoped even the worst hunters might be worth something in another, better world—was more human than the offspring of an old, forgotten town. More human than we, who are born and die by the blood.

How was she born, and how would she die? What caused her to breathe, to come alive? Was it just our minds, some ill-gotten, internal eyes? Was something so primitive as hope or love? Or was it the twisted will of some faceless moon without a man in it?

Is it just me?

Is it my mind?

Tell me she’s more than children’s toys, and old men’s dreams.

Tell me she’s real.

Could something made of metal and mechanics, and the puppet strings of our own minds die?

Do dreams die when we wake up?

Or, in the end when men are all either monsters or gods, would she stand in the wreckage, the only real, awake thing left…the only thing left that’s still human?

When men become gods, do our creations become human?

She watched them fall. She watched them reach for bare threads of guiding moonlight with human hands, and howl at the same moon with a wolf’s cry, and she still had enough hope left in her to call you “good hunter.” To believe that you would be different.

Did she say this to everyone? Did she hope every time? Or was it just you? And which meant more? If she hoped despite just how many had failed, or if she saw something different within you alone?

Here you stood, steeped in the blood of beasts. Ugly thing. Killer. Cold and merciless.

And she called you good.

Did that mean she saw the blood, and the murder, and thought it was good? Or that she looked past all that and saw the good still?

How could she, a doll, an echo herself, know what it meant to be good?

Perhaps she was made by someone who had seen a world with good left in it. Or a world which was evil, but in which there was someone like her, who encompassed all the good in the world to him.

Perhaps that’s what she was to you too. The good. The human left. Without her you may never keep fighting. You had no one else, after all. Your friends were either mad, or intoxicated, or destined to die, or destined for…worse.

Is she just a trick of the moonlight?

She was the embodiment of hope.

You tried to be good. For her. For the world. They all did. But most became drunk on blood, or knowledge, and lost themselves along the way.

What is it you desire?

It always starts good. Goals, on paper, always seem so noble. In practice, so bloodthirsty.

Laurence made a church. A force of holiness and healing. And he turned the city into a madhouse, a cage for monsters.

Wilhelm made a school. A place of mindfulness and learning. And he dabbled in rituals to hide the moon.

The old hunters thought stealing a child wouldn’t incite the wrath of its mother.

They all thought the world could be saved, that the plague could end through quarantine or amputation.

When they cut off the diseased heads the blood only spread. When they stayed in their houses they went insane instead.

The world needed more than a simple fix to return to being “good.”

The hunters thought they were fighting for a noble cause. They thought they were all good…and they turned into the very beasts they fought, awaiting another hunter to spill their blood, and start the cycle again.

The hunters only did what they could; keep killing. That was all they knew to do to get rid of the the beasts in this brick forest.

They needed a hunter who would break the cycle. Do more than just kill and give in to the call of the blood. Who would seek the paleblood, and end this dreadful night.

Transcend the hunt.

But how to eclipse the chase when evolution without courage is the name of ruin?

A hunter who would look beyond today’s night, today’s hunt, today’s beasts. Beyond the blood. Resist its seduction. A hunter who could learn where all this started, find it. And do what hunters do best:

Kill it.

—(For sometimes death is freedom, at least when it’s a dream)—

Seek the paleblood. Hunt the great ones.

—(And sometimes waking up is far worse.)

The formless blood wanted to have a child. Perhaps he thought he was giving those he chose a gift of a sort. Only horror followed.

Every great one loses its child.

One particular woman, long ago, held the name of this broken town. Perhaps it was only fitting that the child of blood and name was born in voice alone.

This child’s formless cries echoed through more than the nightmare; through the waking world—(if you had enough eyes, at least)—calling you to comfort it, to silence it.

Could everyone in the town hear it? Is that what drove them mad? Listening to a child’s endless cries, with no hope of comforting it?

Many had tried to contact it. Some tried to become gods…and misplaced their minds in the process. But you found it. Knowing it was not to be exalted, but destroyed.

You were a hunter after all.

So you killed the only thing keeping it alive, the thing desperately trying to play a lullaby and sing it to sleep.

You yourself played a tiny music box for it, from the beginning of it all—that belonged to a family ravaged by the blood, the hunt, which held a song about love and loss—just to hear it laugh, before the nightmare let out it last.

Cords of thirds. Cords of three.

One from the child of voice. One from the child of night. One from the child stolen long ago, sitting in an old, abandoned workshop.

A workshop alive now only in hunters’ dreams.

You could have left your own nightmare long ago. You could have woken from this dream and believed the world was not so dark, not so strange, not so fascinating.

But this wasn’t the only nightmare you had to liberate.

There was another, another for which all not-so-good hunters were destined—(and thus you too if the Doll’s prayers were in vain). They sent you there with a piece of a drunken man before you yourself became, inevitably, intoxicated, in this bloody bar, so that you could, perhaps navigate sleeping minds with your sanity in tact.

We, the offspring of an old, forgotten secret. Destined and bound by the chase.

So our forefathers sinned?

Ludwig thought he was holy, fighting for a noble cause, and he stood, accursed, in a bath of the blood he spilled, trampling the ghosts of those he killed.

Is it possible there exist moonlight in even the darkest nights?

When we reach for the thread of light, none of us ever want to know what it truly is. Hope can be so vicious that way.

The church turned their eyes from their hands.

All too often, when men try to become gods—or something akin—they become monsters. There's a reason the moon is out of our reach.

Laurence thought the blood would heal. That the gods wouldn’t mind a little thievery. He thought they could keep their humanity in tact, as long as they prayed hard enough.

And he watched the world burn. Watched his hope turn his universe into a waking, walking nightmare. And he burned in his own broken Neverland, ever searching for his own lost, rotted humanity.

Maria, beloved apprentice Maria—

…Is that you, my dear Doll?

Who was there from the beginning. Who vowed to forsake the blood—including her own. Maria, so sickened by her actions, who threw the hunt down a well. Who vowed to in death to be the hunt’s secret keeper, and sat, alone, a lonely princess at the top of the clock tower, alive by the puppet strings of a nightmare—

She sacrificed herself, her values, to purge you from the plague of wild curiosity.

A corpse should be left well enough alone.

And at last, behind time, was a quaint, sad, little village, that lay dripping with secrets, ransacked for its eyes.

A quaint little village where it all started. Where the sky wept, and sun collapsed in on itself, and the great lake held too soft and depraved a secret.

Every great one loses its child…but this one lost his mother.

A quaint little village where a sympathetic mother fell from the stars. Where her child was ripped from her, dissected for parts, by the very people you once thought were good.

The wrath of an angry god is to be feared. But the wrath of a sympathetic god is far worse.

And the wrath of a mother is a lasting curse.

Death is freedom, at least in a dream. But when waking up is far worse, we rewrite the past within our dreams.

This was an orphans dream, pulling the hunt into a nightmare, as he waited to be freed from reality, as he waited for a hunter to rewrite the sins of their ancestors.

As he waited for a good man.

And the spirit thanked you. And the hunt thanked you.

And the Doll thanked you, for a shackle she never even knew was there had been lifted. She thanked you on behalf of the first hunter, for he slept a little sounder.

But there was one last dream that needed slaying:

Your own.

You could have woken long ago. You could have forsaken it all for the sunrise, and left someone else to find the answers, left someone else to be good.

It would have been nice to believe the world made sense.

It would have been nice to believe the dark side of the moon wasn’t made of blood and bones, haunting a poor, old man.

Few dreams offer you the choice to die before the bad part starts—(or perhaps simply to put an end to all the ‘bad parts’ you’ve gone through, to negate the possibility of more). But you would not bow to a happy, false reality.

Neither would you allow yourself to be taken captive by the nameless presence of the moon, made to perpetuate this hunt endlessly.

You understood the word “hunter” was never synonymous with good. They lost that title before the hunt even started. They lost that title when a little orphan was stolen from his mother.

You understood at last. It was her. Maria. The one who threw her weapon down the well in protest. She—(or at least, a version of her)—stood by your side, trying to guide you back all this time. Trying to guide you back to the beginning, where perhaps her sins could be atoned for. Where perhaps there could be good still.

So in a lonely field full of flowers, it was not you who were released from the dream.

You had enough eyes to see and slay the presence of the moon, who had orchestrated this all.

We’re all just puppets of the moon.

…But a cord of three strands is not so easily broken.

So in the end you neither woke nor dreamed, but saw the world as it was—though through newborn eyes. A child of the hunt. A child of the dream. Not destined to create a nightmare…but perhaps a better reality.

When the Doll picked up your small body, she smiled at last. She knew you’d succeeded, for this was unlike any hunter’s death, or transformation, she knew. She knew you’d atoned for the sins of your predecessors. She knew you’d freed the children, the nightmares, and the men.

And she called you “good hunter” still. For she knew the gods listened to her prayers after all. She knew that though you were a hunter no more—

You were certainly good.

[diamondarmored-blog1]

Just some stuff from yesterday’s post nothin’ special particularly--

@corditeheart  Idek, it's so small that people think one comment speaks for the entire fandom

INCOHERENT HOWLING NOISES. I can’t even comprehend this mindset. Clearly I am still a summer child who knows not the struggle of fandom veterans. I was relatively late to the party and it’s still my firm opinion that people can do what they want as long as it’s not in an attempt to overwrite someone else. I sort of assume everyone else feels like that as well, so it’s never occurred to me to take one comment as law.

@ahmyhotdog I can only speak from where I've been. Most people in this fandom are nice. This is true. I've met way more nicer people than not nice. But I think part of the issue is if you don't want to people with certain people for whatever reason then a lot of others just don't seem to play with you as well? Or it could just simply be once you find people you enjoy playing with you just end up not looking for new muns to play with.

That’s true, actually! So it could be partly down to misreading peoples’ motivations for doing that? I would usually assume it’s because our headcanons don’t mesh, though I will say that’s happened to me elsewhere. I don’t think it’s the fault of the collective though, I think there are just arseholes wherever you go. Idk, I hear “x is a bad fandom” and I think of Bloodborne (INB4 SOMEONE IS A BLOODBORNE PART TIMER AND TAKES OFFENCE... @ them, come on, man, you know exactly what I mean here. BB is a mushroom cloud on the horizon for everyone else). 

@eruditorem I’ve heard things but honestly ive never seen anything and everyone has been so welcoming??? so idk either. also i dont pick my nose, i pick my butt. i  mean... wait-- dont reply to that

Mostly adding this so everyone knows Bri picks her butt

@legendaryturk Hmm.  Well I'm kind of newish to the fandom at least for RP, and I think...things just go in cycles?  I've seen ups and downs in various fandoms - not just 8, but also ffvii, doctor who, mgs, and tons of other fandoms I've RPed in.  overall I'd say ff8 has been mostly welcoming to me? it's small, and tumblr being the animal it is, people may just flock toward others who share similar writing styles or fanon. Idk, if I find I have something in common with another mun, be it writing style or fanon ideas, I'll kind of squee with them over it, but I *never* do so with the intent of excluding others, kwim? that said, there are times where I feel like muns talk around me and there's a joke I'm not in on, but, I think that's just the beast that is tumblr, and not fandom related tbh.

You were in MGS tho//// / ?!?!?/q/1/

That part about not doing it with the intent to exclude is so important tbh. So far, I’m getting the impression that most of it is misunderstanding. I can’t imagine anyone I’ve come across so far being deliberately dickish in that way. Eg, there’s one person I can think of who doesn’t really want to acknowledge me, but that’s okay, cos I know they’re a heavy Seiferx[redacted] shipper and I’ve already said I’m not, so I’d not be much use to them. We still follow each other, though, and I can’t think that they’d be all like YOU CAN’T SIT WITH ME if I spoke to them.

@diosleighrp  There's douchenozzles in every fandom who try to dictate what other fans can and can't do. It's quite unfortunate, but there are just entitled brats everywhere.

I can’t say much about this, I haven’t had it! Idk why. Maybe I’m too babbymode for the haters to have found. I have had it elsewhere though so I know what you mean and you’re right, they are definitely lurking somewhere. They’re lurking everywhere. 

@lionseed Just like American politics, it's the small angry voices that get the most attention for some reason. Sometimes there's a bad experience, and people take that as proof the fandom is shit.

MMMM and there’s always people with a bad experience to talk about because nowhere’s perfect, so I guess it’s partly on the reader to be on it enough to realise that. I would like if people within the fandom wouldn’t say that about all currently participating members though :( Obviously people can talk about their experience, good or bad, but their experience is with a person, not all of us. 

@underplater Okay, so. I will say that what I've personally experienced with the ff8 fandom is a lot of, "oh wow, I really like your blog and your take on the character you're doing. That's wonderful!" "Oh awesome, do you maybe want to do something with her/him/me?" "Uh... Maybe." Which... Means no. And then people are always all, "You just keep doing you, dear, it's wonderful," but no one sends in memes or replies to stuff? And it just.. I always feel like I'm pressed up against the glass, looking in.So I'd say my experience with the ff8 comm has definitely been that it's very insular and hard to for me, personally speaking, to break in on. ... Sorry, I'm fairly sure this was about my comment earlier? I think I was the one who used insular.... Unless, of course, I guess the problem could be me? But if it is, I wish someone would tell me so that I could drop the muses and just stop cluttering up people's dashes.

JJKASHDJASHFGGHFJDSJJHH this hurt me to read and is the main reason I’ve made time to do this reply post rn. I couldn’t remember who said what, to be honest with you and it surprises me that it was you, purely because you’re always one of the first people to come to mind when I think of “the FFVIII community”, you seem like a valued part of it to me, even if you’re not one of the most active. YOU ARE DEFINITELY NOT THE PROBLEM. I can’t really say with 100% certainty what *is*. With the meme thing, I think it depends what it is. If someone reblogs one of those “send me x and I’ll tell you about y”, I try to send it, but if it’s a starter or something that feels thready, I won’t unless I have an idea to back it with, cos it doesn’t feel any different to writing an actual starter for me. I’d rather do that, but I won’t do it uninvited/randomly because that’s putting pressure on someone who didn’t ask for it. If a lot of people do the same as me and don’t mention it, then that could be a big factor because people can well end up waiting for each other to approach without realising it. It might also be something to do with you having multiple blogs (particularly Reno) and that altering your perception. The reason I say that is because I had the exact same thing myself, I had a male muse in a fandom and everyone loved him - mostly everyone wanted to lowkey do him tbh - and I had a female one who got comparatively zero attention because she wasn’t as accessible to such a wide audience. Ellone in particular is a complex character and it’s a sad fact that people tumblr-wide aren’t always into the idea of paying attention to something before they interact with it. Reno is much more easy to interact with in a casual way, since he’s had more exposure in source material and is widely regarded as being a fun, not-serious character (though I acknowledge he very likely IS, and I know from experience that you will have put a lot of thought into him - I love Reno and anything that gives him some substance). He attracts people from further afield, people who might have only seen Advent Children or only know him through fan works. Ellone doesn’t have a movie or much fanfic, and she’s not really subject of the most popular speculation (lbr - by that I mean “who she’s sleeping with”), so she doesn’t have that far a reach. Your Ellone is so valuable to the whole community, you have a hell of a lot to share in your headcanons and your ideas. I haven’t seen you use Julia too much yet, but I’m sure she’ll be that way too. I think you should pick one of those ideas, pick someone who seems like they could pull it off and tell them about it, because I’m so sure 90% if not 100% of us would thread them with you. That’s all I do tbh!! I’m always prepared for someone to say no, but mostly they’re happy to have been approached with an idea to use as a starting point. PLEASE DON’T DROP THEM. You’re not cluttering up anything. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s sad to see you inactive on her whenever you are, tbh. I don’t think you realise how essential she is. I know it’s a small, slow fandom, but anything you post raises the overall standard for the sheer fact you did it, and it had your characteristic level of consideration put in. Course, I’m probably biased, cos I think I can tell when people work more behind the scenes than out front on their muse and the related background and I appreciate that, always have.

@misplacedxheroics .... I'm hoping this is permitted that I comment, as it was my blog where you read this post. I'm only addressing what I've experienced in the community, not trying to speak for everyone here. In my personal experience with VIII, more often than not, I see a lot of the insular behavior mentioned. Several blogs that start up are made to feel so unwelcomed that they leave or close up shop. Then there are the pass/agg anons, the ones who attack strong female characters (OC or otherwise) and 'correct' headcanons for canon characters. Whoever the person is, I have to believe it's just one single person. But anons have begun to reach out and outright tell people who they can or can't write with, which is baffling. And lastly, I'm guilty of this, and I'll own it -- We also become so comfortable and so familiar with who we write with we don't try out other players. There's also the overlap of muns playing with 'private' blogs. To me, the word 'private' tells me I don't have access to them. So what's the bother in following or engaging if everyone who writes muses that are in the fandom closed off to the rest of us? I can't say how the fandom should be run, I know I'm the least liked person in this fandom but this is my experience. A very polarizing, cold and unwelcoming experience.  We need to communicate more among one another, set clear boundaries and maintain community and unity, imo.

I think private is just a word people slap on a blog to make it look legit these days, or as a get-out clause if they find themselves followed by some kind of My Immortal Eldritch horror. Least, that’s what I’ve seen in my travels. Private blogs seem to favour their existing friends, but be open to others who will bring them ideas. I had one blog I called private and that’s because I kept getting people saying “wanna rp?” and I’d be like “yeah okay” and they’d literally say “alright you come up with an idea then”. ? / / //???? Also... I’m trying to word this in the least mean-sounding way possible because I’m not one to shit on anyone’s parade, but if I’m really honest with you, I had to unfollow you on an older blog because you were posting vagues about people so often. I don’t mind when people vent, but it got to the point where it was almost every day someone was on blast and I felt like I’d walked in on a family argument. You can do what you want with your blog, it’s on me to unfollow if I don’t like it, so I did. But. Any oversensitive person seeing it probably assumed you meant them and that might have something to do with you finding it difficult to connect with people. You follow that up by slating the entire fandom when it’s not exactly a fandom problem, which makes people less likely to approach you as you’ve already indirectly blasted them. I’ve had people tell me more than once that you’ve posted something about me without naming me; notably when you made a point of reblogging that one anti-Xu post from an inactive account after saying you hate people who disagree with you “on purpose”. I had just posted a silly Xu support one liner that got a few reblogs. I don’t really have a fig to give whether it was about me or not, but it’s a good example of how a vaguepost causes negative ripples. If one person assumed that was about me, another ten probably guessed it was someone else. I was welcomed to the fandom with a couple of how-do-you-dos and an anon telling me to stay away from you or you’d bully me into deleting. That was the first of several. Then you got that anon telling you to stop sending me hate when you hadn’t (what basis did that have?), and one of your friends for some reason assumed I was the one who had sent it and demanded that “anon” show IP proof, which gives the impression that they’d been led to believe it was me for some reason. I know you said you didn’t understand the logic behind me saying that, but we’re both running Statcounter, you know as well as I do how it works and what the implications are of saying that. It’s also how I know the anons I’ve had that I’ve mentioned are not all one person. Maybe it really was a totally out-of-nowhere thing that person said, but when you combine it with the vagues and the assertions that there’s a split in the fandom that no one else (so far) has detected, it causes bigger problems than it would on its own. I’m not trying to put you on blast, this ain’t a callout post and I haven’t taken any of it to heart - it’s no big deal to me - I’m just trying to offer an outsiders’ perspective because I read this as you being honestly oblivious to it, and if I didn’t I’d either have to ignore your comment or lie to you, neither of which I think you’d appreciate - and I assume since you made the effort to drop in despite not following me that you would want a response.