#waterfall ambient noise

[ckret2]

Chapter 47 of human Bill Cipher thinking that being imprisoned in the Mystery Shack is looking pretty good right now:

The Eclipse: Part 5

Bill and Ford are just... so energized and enthusiastic after their near death experience. Not to mention fashionable.

But they've got nothing on Dipper.

And, at long last, Ford and Dipper badger Bill—who's just too tired to lie—into explaining what kind of an "eclipse" involves a giant flying axolotl making gravity disappear.

####

When they reached the cave, Ford discovered that his antique lantern was too waterlogged to light.

"I'm not sure how we're getting to the top now," Ford said. The cavern directly behind the waterfall had some ambient lighting, but it wouldn't carry very far. "I know you can see, but I don't trust you to lead me through a cave system in the dark, no offense." He was surprised at himself for saying no offense.

"If I was planning to let you fall off a cliff, I could've saved myself a swim in the lake." Bill had taken off his backpack and was rummaging through it. "Didn't your lantern go out when you took four-eyes hiking through here? You should have learned your lesson."

Bill must have meant Fiddleford, though it was strange to hear him single out Fiddleford as "four-eyes" when Ford wore glasses too. "I did learn my lesson. I brought three flashlights as backup," Ford said. "Which are in Dipper's backpack."

Bill laughed weakly.

"Did you bring a flashlight?"

"Better." Bill pulled out a kazoo. He blew a stream of water from it, shook it, and then took a deep breath and played a long high note that wavered up and down.

Ford cringed at the noise. "Bill, what—?"

Bill held up a finger to silence Ford. Okay, fine. He was curious now.

It took a few moments of increasingly irritating kazoo playing, but Ford heard a soft clinking sound coming from the deeper caverns; and then several geodites—small creatures that looked like stone orbs with crystal limbs and teeth and glowing eyes—curiously emerged into the main cavern. Ford hadn't seen these creatures since he'd documented them in the eighties. He hadn't known they could be summoned via kazoo. They began making a high pitched humming along with Bill's kazooing. 

"There you are." Bill stuffed the kazoo into his backpack and crouched down, holding out a hand until a couple of geodites crept closer to inspect it; and then he scooped up the closest one. The others startled into breaking off singing, but hovered nearby, chirping and clicking. "Okay, grab a flashlight." The light the geodites' eyes gave off wasn't very bright; but it was enough for Ford to see Bill's smug smirk. They proceeded into the caves, and a dozen-odd more geodites—perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps out of concern for the two hostages—followed along behind them.

The climb went much slower than it had just a few hours earlier. Unsurprisingly, without low gravity on his side, Bill was the holdup this time. Not only was he not as experienced in spelunking as Ford, but between his waterlogged dress shoes and his borrowed trout slippers he didn't have any appropriate footwear, and he'd elected to carefully climb barefoot again. When Ford had climbed up this path with Fiddleford in the 80s, it had been a six hour climb. He had no idea how long it would take with Bill.

But even at that, Ford hadn't expected Bill to need to pause so often to get his energy back. It seemed like the more Ford recovered from their fall in the lake, the weaker Bill got. In any other situation, he'd suspect Bill of slowing them down on purpose, but after... well, even that aside, Ford couldn't think of any reason Bill would want to delay getting home.

"It's just this body that's dizzy," Bill said, the fourth time they had to stop for him to sit. "Probably one of those... counterproductive stress reactions human bodies get." He wiped a film of sweat off his forehead, then stopped to examine how his hand trembled when his geodite's spotlight eyes fixed on it. "That or it's because I've only had a handful of cereal for the past two days."

Ford stared at him. "You what? Why?"

Bill shrugged. "Body wouldn't let me get more down. Wasn't my idea."

"Well, for goodness's sake, eat something now."

Bill took off his backpack, pulled out a cereal box, and opened it. He grimaced. He poured out a puddle of sugary lake water and dissolved cereal.

Of course. "Here." Ford pulled a tube of astronaut meat out of his backpack and offered it over. "It's not the most nutritionally complete meal supplement, but it's something. It'll have protein."

Bill took the tube with a grimace, but squeezed out a dollop of meat paste and licked it; and then he gagged so hard he doubled over. He clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from retching and offered the tube back. "Mmmf." The geodite hopped out of his lap in alarm and retreated to the group of hangers-on traveling with them.

The meat paste wasn't great, but that was a disproportionate reaction out of the alien who liked to mix chocolate sauce and mustard. This was a bigger problem than Ford had anticipated. "Keep it. If you can get down even a tiny bit every few minutes, that's better than nothing."

Bill nodded jerkily.

"I think it's better if we reach Dipper and get out of here as soon as possible."

Bill nodded more enthusiastically.

What would they do if Bill couldn't make it the whole way? Would Ford have to leave him in the cave and come back for him later? Ford hadn't tied the infinity belt's cable to Bill like he'd meant to, he just realized. It seemed unnecessarily cruel to try now; but it might be useful if he did have to leave Bill behind. He didn't know that they had any better option, he couldn't carry Bill all the way up and down. Especially since Bill had let go of his geodite, and Ford suspected the rest might abandon them if he put down his own...

They'd have to figure that out if it came to it. For now, they kept walking—Ford glancing back regularly to check on Bill, and Bill pretending he didn't notice.

####

After another half hour and another two increasingly frequent breaks, Ford saw a faint light in the tunnels ahead—yellow-white, not like the geodites' natural blues and purples. "Bill, is that...?"

"Hm?" Bill looked in the direction Ford was pointing. His right eye twitched, and then he had to squeeze his eyes shut in pain. "Yep. Boy child at 12 o'clock."

Ford called out, "Dipper?"

"Great Uncle Ford!" Dipper's voice echoed through the caves. There was a sound of clattering rocks as Dipper scrabbled down the tunnel to join them. The geodites scattered in fear, peering out from behind stalagmites as Dipper's flashlight swept over the scene. "Grunkle Ford! Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Are you—?"

Dipper collided with Ford to hug him. (Ford held his geodite out to the side so he could return a one-armed hug.) "I'm so sorry I saw you go over the cliff but I couldn't do anything I was in the mindscape the whole time something sucked my soul out of my body—"

"Not it, I'm innocent," Bill said unnecessarily, "nobody look at me." He'd taken advantage of the break to immediately sit on the ground. His abandoned geodite crept back over to check on him.

"—and—and wow, that was the Axolotl you were talking about, right?" Dipper let go of Ford to gesture like a fisherman demonstrating the size of an enormous catch, "It was huge, it had to be—I don't know, as long as the county? The whole state? How did it get so big? Is the Axolotl an alien or some kind of mutant Earth axolotl? Are all axolotls aliens—?"

"Now, hold on," Ford said, putting a hand on Dipper's shoulder, "what huge axolotl? What are you talking about?"

"You didn't see it?" Dipper paused, looked Ford up and down, and said, "What are you wearing?"

Ford grimaced, tugged his bandanna up a little higher, and turned his geodite away when it tried to aim its spotlight eyes at his neck to see what he was doing. "We had to borrow some dry clothes."

"He couldn't see the Axolotl," Bill said. "You shouldn't have, either."

"Sor-ry. Getting sucked out of my body wasn't my idea—"

"Hold on," Ford said again. "What do you mean, sucked out of your body?"

As they headed back down toward the waterfall, Dipper and Ford exchanged their versions of events. It didn't take long for them to realize Bill had saved both their lives with a swift efficiency that, had it been applied to any less altruistic a task, could have been called "ruthless." They didn't say anything, but neither one could stop from glancing back toward Bill.

"What?" he snapped, clinging to his geodite a little tighter like he thought they were planning to take it. "I don't owe you an explanation. You're not dead! Be grateful. Stop looking at me."

They stopped looking at him. Bill should be gloating about them owing him their lives. He should be convincing them they had to pay back their debt. Silence alone would have been worrying; but bristling like he wanted them to forget what he'd done was baffling.

As Dipper finished explaining his version of events, he said, "I think I remember meeting the Axolotl before—like you said." He directed this last comment back over his shoulder toward Bill.

Bill—whose entire attention had been focused for the last ten minutes on walking without collapsing, tripping, or dropping his geodite—simply muttered, "My condolences."

"Wait," Ford said, "You've... met a giant invisible axolotl before?"

"Mabel and I both did."

"When?"

Dipper opened his mouth, paused, and glanced back again at Bill for help.

It took a few seconds for Bill to register the question. "Oh—they've never met before. Not in this reality."

Exasperated, Dipper asked, "Then why do I remember it?"

"I told you—echoes," Bill said. When Dipper continued giving him an expectant look, Bill sighed deeply and said, "This is an embarrassing oversimplification, but you're at least familiar with the concept of branching timelines, right?"

"Of course I am. Every time you make a decision, the timeline splits into two paths—"

"Cute that you think it caps out at two," Bill said. "And a decision doesn't always split the timeline, sometimes the branches collapse back together depending on the gravity of the decision you made. I don't literally mean a decision 'you' made—you've never made a decision that important—but sure, you've got the basic idea."

"Fine," Dipper snapped. "So I met it on another branch, right? When?"

"Never," Bill said.

"Okay. Yes. But there is a branch where... some version of me met it. Right?"

"It depends on how you define 'is.'"

Dipper puffed out his cheeks with the effort of restraining a yell. He looked at Ford for either help or sympathy.

Ford winked surreptitiously at Dipper and said, "It's probably some complicated chronological issue. I doubt Bill can explain it in a way humans can understand." Under his breath, he loudly muttered, "Some 'teacher.'"

Bill straight-armed Ford aside to walk beside Dipper. "You humans have no sense of humor," he said. "I said you met him never because it's literally true. You had an accident that landed you in a time and space outside time and space—the meeting happened never and nowhere. It's where he prefers to take visitors. That timeline terminated after your meeting—and I don't mean you died, I mean he terminated that entire timeline."

"Really?" Dipper shivered. "With... With everyone in it? Why did he do that? Did something dangerous happen in that timeline, or was it unstable, or...?"

"That's how he usually ends casual meet-and-greets," Bill said. "Higher dimensional beings. He sees your reality from a perspective unimaginable to you. Remember when I told you you're just a movie projecting on a wall to him; he's got no problem with pulling the film out of the reel to inspect a few frames and then turning the entire projector off when he's done. What does he care if that's somebody's entire reality?" He paused to think that over. "Maybe the projector metaphor's getting strained. Imagine flipping through a book with all the pages out of order, and meeting him is like somehow flipping to a page outside the book... No, that's a little too contrived. I'll stick with the projector."

"When did we... when would we have met him?" Dipper asked. "And—when I say 'when' I mean—you know what I mean."

"You mean, when would you have made the decisions that could have led to you meeting him? Depending on your perspective, either last August or 207̃05. Time travel was involved."

"Last August..." Dipper thought back. "Was that when we were—?"

"Treasure hunting, yeah. By the by, I never asked—" Bill gestured vaguely around them at everything in general, "—which dimension did I end up in? Is this the one where you went hunting in the 1400s or 1800s?"

"Uh—1800s."

"Hm. Knew this wasn't a 207̃05 treasure hunt timeline, Questiony doesn't have a pet enslaved time pirate."

"A what?"

"So you never had a chance of meeting the Axolotl anyway," Bill said. "Hey, fun fact! Did you know there's a time pocket where twelve million alternate versions of you, your sister, and the puppet with the goggles failed at your quest and plummeted out of time? I wonder how long the last of them survived! I meant to check in after Weirdmageddon. Human flesh isn't that nutritious and doesn't have much water, but with millions of bodies and a little determination— Hey, wanna know how long you all were there before you started resorting to cannibalism—?"

"No," Ford said before Dipper had to. "And I'll thank you not to get off topic to try to give my gnephew more nightmares."

Bill shot him a sideways glance. "Remind me to tell you about the time pocket formed by all the timelines where you and Specs did your first portal test without checking your math."

"So if I wasn't even supposed to meet him—how did I see him today?" Dipper asked. "Did he pull me out of my body into the mindscape so we could talk, or...? But he didn't even tell me anything, was he just trying to get me to remember meeting him in the terminated timeline—?"

"He wasn't trying to do anything," Bill said. "He wasn't here for you, he didn't care. Shadow on the wall."

"Then what was he here for? You?"

It took Bill too long to answer. He just shrugged vaguely. "Probably not."

"Huh." Instead of questioning Bill, Dipper briefly turned introspective himself, gaze far away and thoughtful. "I think I remember a little more about meeting the Axolotl now. The first time, I mean."

"Oh, do you?" Bill asked. "Ha! Poor kid."

"Mabel and I were in some kind of rocket car?" Dipper's brows furrowed in concentration. "And the Axolotl had a... bean bag chair?"

Bill scoffed. "He still has that old thing?! Wow."

"It was really comfortable."

"It's also really tacky."

"You talked about him like he was some kind of... of big... eldritch cosmic horror thing," Dipper said. "What kind of a cosmic horror has bean bag chairs?"

"What, do you think being a vast multidimensional amphibious monstrosity with an incomprehensible mind and a body that can only been seen in lower dimensions as grotesque shapeshifting cross-sections protects you from having bad taste? He'll flay your sanity straight out of your gray matter—and you won't even have the comfort of knowing your mind-shredder had nice interior decor sensibilities!"

"I can sympathize with the experience," Ford muttered. "I was driven to the brink of paranoid madness by a nightmare demon who thinks Doric columns go with checkerboard flooring."

Bill let out a shrill "Ha!" and smacked Ford's shoulder.

"But he remembered me when we met," Dipper went on. "He told me to say hi to Mabel. And—the last time we met, we—talked. I don't remember it all yet, but... you were wrong about him. There was nothing insanity-inducing about him. He was just... nice."

"You don't think the madness sets in all at once, do you?" Bill turned back to Dipper, with an air of what Ford uncomfortably felt like was ill intent. "Go on then—what did you talk about? You can't remember it, can you? Why not? Just a harmless little conversation, right?"

Dipper frowned in thought. "There was something important, but—I can't remember what it was. What was it?" He muttered, "I know it was something important—"

"And there we go!" Bill gestured at Dipper with a flourish, triumphant. "Now you're digging for the significance of the whole thing. You're trying to comprehend the motives of something that has a state of existence your mind wasn't built to understand! You'll either go mad trying to understand his motives—or you'll go mad because you do understand. You're doomed now, kid—this is gonna haunt you for the rest of your days." He laughed. "Try to stop thinking about it now while you're ahead!"

"I'm not going insane," Dipper said. "Just shut up, I'm trying to remember."

"'I'm not obsessed, I swear! I can stop thinking about it any time I want!' Sure."

"Shut up," Dipper repeated. "It had to have been something important! Otherwise why would he dragged me out of my body and—and shown me the fourth dimension just so I could meet him?"

"Don't sound so self-important! You never saw the fourth dimension; if you had, you wouldn't think he looks like an axolotl. He visited this dimension's mindscape," Bill said. "And he didn't even mean to drag you into the mindscape! It was just a side-effect of his gravitational pull. He tugged you toward him just like everything else in town; but Earth'sgravity doesn't extend through planes like the mindscape, and his does. Yanked your spirit right out of your body."

"Then why was I the only one?" Dipper demanded. "Why didn't you or Grunkle Ford leave your bodies?"

"Your spirit's more loosely attached to your body than ours."

"Why?!"

For a moment, Bill's face twisted with displeasure; and then he sighed in resignation. "Ah, heck with it. You've been astral projecting."

Dipper's mouth worked uselessly. He croaked, "What?"

"It's when you—"

"I know what it is! I mean—what? How? When?"

"At least as long as I've been here. How long have you been having those out-of-body dreams?"

"Y—!" Dipper socked Bill's arm. Bill didn't even flinch. "You said those were nightmares!"

"And I lied," Bill said tiredly.

"Why?!"

"Thought you'd be annoying about it."

"I've been dealing with this all year, you—!" Dipper groaned in aggravation. "Why am I astral projecting! I wasn't trying to learn or anything!"

"How should I know, I wasn't around. Best guess, I think I ripped up the Velcro sticking your soul to your body when I yanked you out to puppet it," Bill said. "Oops."

Dipper gaped at him in outrage. "'Oops'?! That's all you can— I've been terrified and I thought it was a nightmare and it was real all along and it was all your fault and you won't even—"

"I knew you'd be annoying."

"I'm annoying?! How would you like it if you'd spent a year getting dragged out of your body in your sleep—!"

Bill abruptly stopped walking, turned toward Dipper, and said with an intensity that startled Dipper into silence, "You don't have the slightest idea how much I'd like it. How would you like it if you'd been trying for weeks t—" Bill cut himself off before he could get more heated; and instead, only said, "If you. Wanted to get out of your body. And couldn't. And some brat down the hall is doing it without even trying."

Dipper remained frozen, jaw locked tight in a grimace, until Bill turned away and trudged on. Dipper snapped, "But I don't want to do it. And it's your fault I am."

"Great. Nobody's satisfied." Bill sighed. "Make the most of it. Watch late night TV. Learn to meditate or something, I don't care. You've got nothing to worry about, it's harmless." He paused. "As long as nothing else crawls in your body while you're outside of it."

"WHAT?!"

"It's fine. Nothing'll get you in the shack through the unicorn hair barri... hm. Well—you're safe in the shack."

"But I have to go home at the end of summer! Will something be able to get me then?!"

Bill shrugged. "Hypothetically."

"Am I gonna die?!"

"Given my understanding of human mortality? Sure, sooner or later. Wanna hear your top five most likely causes of death?"

"No! Is it possible to—to stop? Can I control the astral projecting?"

"Yeah, sure, I guess. Ask me next time you're out of your body. I'll show you"

"Can't you show me n—"

"No. Not while you're in your body."

Dipper scowled. "Fine! Next time I'm projecting, I'm kicking you awake until you help me." He turned away from Bill; and, after a moment of fuming, mumbled to himself, "If I've been astral projecting... then that time I visited the neighbors... oh, man..." He trailed off, getting lost in his own thoughts.

Keeping silent during that discussion had been agony for Ford.

Every few seconds, he'd wanted to butt in either to eagerly ask for more information about the Axolotl or astral projection, or—far more often—to express his rage on Dipper's behalf, that Bill (of course!) had put him through this, and then not even had the decency (of course!) to try to rectify it.

But it was Dipper's conversation. It was about Dipper's problem, and anyway Dipper had been trying so long to pry some sort of useful information out of Bill—it would be cruel of Ford to snatch the conversation away from him when he was finally getting somewhere. He'd have a lot to discuss with Dipper once they were home and could get away from Bill.

But staying outside the conversation had let him observe three points he might have otherwise missed.

One: Bill really wasn't himself. Back when he'd been playing as Ford's muse, whenever he got to answer questions, he'd always done it with an air of theatricality and barely-suppressed glee; and after he'd given up that act, he'd answered questions with smug arrogance, the glee turned to sadistic delight at the bad news he could deliver. Now, he simply answered them. Even his attempts to be condescending gradually got less enthusiastic until they petered out completely.

Two: Bill was answering questions he never would have answered that morning. After telling them as little as he could about the thing coming to Gravity Falls, even trying to avoid admitting it was the Axolotl, now he was freely talking about the Axolotl's taste in furniture as though he knew the beast personally. After hiding that Dipper was astral projecting for over a month, he simply told him. Heck with it. He'd admitted it was probably his fault. He'd said the last two words Ford had ever thought he'd hear come out of Bill's mouth: I lied.

Three: this was the longest Bill had walked without needing a break all day. His voice was stronger. His steps were more steady. Ford had even seen him squeeze out a few dollops of astronaut paste between comments—and he struggled to make himself swallow, but he didn't gag.

And now that Dipper had stopped asking him about the Axolotl and about astral projection, Bill's footing was growing less certain again. He wove unsteadily on the path and had to pause to lean a hand on a stalactite, taking deep breaths. "Gimme a second."

Bill was distracting himself. He was keeping himself going through conversation, the simple ritual of receiving and answering questions. Ford understood: sometimes, in desperate circumstances, you had to burn yourself out to get somewhere safe enough to collapse and recover. When you had no choice but to push yourself, the best thing you could do was think about anything but your exhausted, failing body. It made it easier to keep moving and burn through what energy you had left.

Ford had once wondered if his "muse" was some manner of creature that was compelled to answer the questions his protégés asked him. This was perhaps the closest Bill had ever gotten to actually being such an entity: answering questions because he had to to go on, and willing to give away almost anything as long as it kept him moving.

Ford stopped next to Bill. "So. The Axolotl was the source of your 'gravitational eclipse,' I suppose."

"Astute observation," Bill said flatly.

"I take it that it isn't 'eclipsing' gravity so much as canceling it out. The Axolotl must have a mass similar to Earth's, if the force it exerts flying by above us is nearly identical to the force of Earth below us."

"More or less."

"But according to Dipper's observations, this Axolotl is only the size of Oregon at most. Did he underestimate its size? Or perhaps it's incredibly dense...?"

Bill gave Ford a sharp sideways glance. Were this any other conversation on any other day, this would be when the gloating started. Well, well, well, look who finally believes I was telling the truth, finally crawling back to me to give you all the answers you can't find yourself— But Bill only looked away again, pushed himself back upright, and kept walking. "You're the square looking at the sphere and thinking it's a circle," Bill said. "The majority of the Axolotl's mass is in dimensions you can't see. The little bit of him that's visible in the mindscape is just a... a feeler. Or an anglerfish's lure. The rest of him is close enough to exert a gravitational pull—but not in a dimension you can see."

"Which dimensions does he exist in?"

"I can't tell you because your species knows so little about them that the answer wouldn't mean anything. You haven't even decided whether or not you want to officially call the dimension that time shines from the 'fourth' dimension—I could tell you he comes from the seventeenth dimension and it wouldn't mean anything but an impressively high number to you."

Dubiously, Ford asked, "Does he come from the seventeenth?"

Bill waved a hand vaguely. "Heck if I know. The most I've ever seen at once is nine, and I was on a lot of psychedelics at the time. My eyeball popped."

"Eugh." 

"Worth it, though. If you ever wanna feel cosmically insignificant in the most breathtakingly beautiful way possible, and you don't mind going blind, let me know. I think I can remember most of what I was on."

"Pass," Ford said. "If the Axolotl is so enormous, then why was only Gravity Falls affected by its gravity? At a minimum, shouldn't have the rest of the Pacific Northwest been impacted—if not the whole planet?"

"He wasn't near the rest of the Pacific Northwest. In the third dimension, Gravity Falls is obviously connected to Oregon; but in higher dimensions, it's..." He tried unsuccessfully to pantomime something mountainlike. "Imagine if the second dimension were a flat sheet of stretchy fabric. If somebody plucked the fabric up in the middle and made a peak, a creature living on the surface of the fabric would still be able to travel across its slope like it was flat, right?"

Ford tried to visualize Bill's description. "Right."

"And so if a fly flew past the peak of the fabric, it'd cross near whatever town's at that peak without getting near the towns at the bottom of the slope."

"Rrright."

"That's what Gravity Falls looks like from the fourth dimension," Bill said. "In the third dimension you can't see anything, but to fourth dimensional beings it sticks out of the fabric of spacetime like a thousand mile high pillar in the middle of a desert. That's why Time Baby put his capitol here."

Now, Ford wasn't sure that sounded right, but he didn't know enough about the seventeenth-or-whatever dimension to dispute it. "And why you kept trying to punch through to our dimension from here?" he guessed. "I imagine stretching the fabric of spacetime that far might make it easier to tear."

Bill shot him a sour look, but didn't deny it.

"Why did the gravity go down slowly for two days and then come back all at once? Did the Axolotl just leave faster than it came?"

"You know how the Doppler effect works?"

Ford hesitated. "Yes. Obviously."

"Well, in higher dimensions, gravity works like a reverse Doppler effect. It spreads out in front of a moving object—"

"Oh, come on."

"—and compresses behind the object—"

"Now you're just making up scientific-sounding nonsense because you know I can't disprove it."

"I'm not, and as soon as you get me a pen and paper I can prove it." Loftily, Bill said, "There's a simple equation that can explain higher dimensional gravity."

Ford was pretty sure he was being made fun of. He didn't mean to laugh, but he did. Dipper looked at him like he'd lost his mind; but trying to explain what was so funny would probably just make him look more insane.

Bill looked nearly as surprised.

####

"... And the smaller axolotls, what are they—heralds, worshipers? Children?"

Bill scoffed in disgust, "I don't know, I've never asked him. I see them like the flies orbiting a cow's tail. They migrate with him, that's all I know."

"Then the Axolotl really was just 'migrating'?"

"Well. Migrating in the sense that a mayfly watching a human walk back and forth to the office thinks it must be 'migrating.' He has..." Bill gestured vaguely, "duties, that mandate he travel fixed routes through the multiverse. He just happens to have a years-long workday. His commute doesn't usually take him past 46'\."

"'Duties' as in... divine duties?"

"It depends on if you worship him for doing them. I don't."

The cavern was growing light again, and the distant waterfall was audible. Ford quietly sighed in relief. Even as oddly forthcoming as Bill had been, Ford doubted that even two-thirds of the information he'd shared was true. But it was hard to tell. It had always been hard to tell.

Dipper helped Ford deflate the raft and pack it up. As he did, he said, voice low, "Is it just me, or is Bill kinda...?"

Ford cast a sideways glance across the cavern. Bill was crouched in front of the geodite he'd carried all up and down the tunnel, backpack in his lap, pouring a pile of soggy cereal onto the ground for the geodite to eat. Ford was surprised he'd gotten so attached to the creature. "I think he's been in some state of mental shock since the fall in the lake," Ford said. "And it seems he hasn't been able to keep down a full meal since we left yesterday. I suspect he's barely on his feet. The sooner we can get him back to the shack, the better."

"Oh." Dipper frowned toward Bill. (He was now pouring cold medicine on the cereal. Ford would have to ask him about geodite diets.)

"What are you thinking?"

Dipper shook his head. "I just thought... He seems like he's thinking about something. And he's giving so much away... I don't know. I wanted him to talk, but now it makes me wonder if he's scheming something."

From what Ford had seen, at the moment he doubted Bill could so much as scheme a way to ruin a picnic. But now he was second-guessing his perception. Ford knew Bill better than anyone; but that also meant Bill knew how to manipulate Ford better than anyone. What was Dipper seeing that he didn't? "Really? Do you think so?"

Dipper hesitated. "I—thought so? Maybe not." (Well, now they were both second-guessing themselves.) "I just don't know why he'd tell us so much if he isn't up to something. It feels like a distraction."

"Ah." Ford nodded. "I think the distraction is for himself."

"Mm." (Ford wasn't sure if Dipper had heard him.) "I just feel like there's—something. I can feel it in the back of my head." He stared at Bill a moment longer; then shook his head and turned away. "Maybe it's not him, maybe it's the Axolotl. He said something I can't remember. Something about degrees."

"Degrees?"

But Dipper didn't reply. He'd returned to his work, lost in his own head, mumbling under his breath the way he did whenever he was trying to work something out. Something else for Ford to ask about later.

When they got in Tate's loaned motorboat to head back out, Dipper got a look at the rainbow trout slippers Bill had put back on, and let out a choked laugh of surprise; and then that was the last sound any of them made as they crossed the lake. Ford steered, Dipper remained lost in his own thoughts, and Bill stared at his friendship bracelet, thumb running around the glass evil eyes.

####

(Finally a few mysteries solved! I hope y'all enjoyed, and I look forward to hearing what you think. Next week is another emotionally wrenching chapter!!)

[cuubism]

Made in an Instant (3/5)

continuation of Dream's eldritch pregnancy

Apparently by sheer force of will, Dream still refuses to ‘look’ pregnant in any kind of meaningful way. But looks are not everything, and the fact that Dream is not quite himself—more so the further along they get—is evident in how… chaotic the Dreaming has been.

Gravity’s all wonky. Hob will walk along a palace corridor towards Dream’s quarters—a corridor he thought he knew plenty well—only to find the sky out the windows is suddenly down, and he’s walking on the ceiling. Usually, the second he notices he plummets to the floor. Or rather, to the ceiling. Or whatever.

Weather’s weird, too. Not really in a bad way, not like when Dream is morose and it rains all the time. But there’s been snow going sideways—“the baby likes winter,” Dream said at one point when Hob asked—and the waterfalls that tumble down the river running by the castle have been running up, and the temperature is fluctuating seemingly by the minute. Hob’s given up on trying to dress to the weather—even dream-logic can’t keep up with the changes. He just suffers through it. It’s probably bothering Dream more than it is him, anyway.

He copes with the chaos because he might as well get used to it now—it’s not like a magical baby is going to be any less chaotic.

On this particular day, when Hob arrives in the Dreaming to see Dream, he nearly backs right back out again. Not that that’s really how it works. But it’s high noon, the sun glaringly bright overhead, and the Dreaming is blaring with noise.

With music, specifically. The whole place is playing “Bring Me to Life”, of all things, very loudly, though it seems to be some kind of infant adaptation made of bells and chimes. Covering his ears, Hob tries to find a speaker system in the palace. Nothing. It seems to be ambient noise emanating from the sky and the earth and the very fucking soul of the place.

So instead he goes to track down Dream.

On his way, he passes Lucienne, who’s valiantly trying to complete her work in the library, brow pinched, and Matthew, who alights briefly, unsteadily on his shoulder to say, “I know they’re having mommy and me music time and it’s all sweet and cute but do you think you can get him to turn down the emo xylophone? I can’t fly in this shit,” before winging away again.

Eventually Hob reaches Dream’s quarters. He doesn’t answer when Hob knocks, so Hob just goes in. He finds him sitting on the floor, back to the stone wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped over his ears. Shit. Rough day, then.

Hob sits down across from him on the floor. “Dream.” No response. He taps Dream’s knee. “Dream!”

Dream startles, looking up at him. Then seizes Hob’s hands and clasps them over his own ears, sighing in relief when that apparently mutes some of the sound. Hob’s not sure how that works, but then, everything works weirdly in the Dreaming.

Hob moves closer to him so he can sort of, awkwardly, fold Dream into his arms. “Are you okay, honey?”

Dream shakes his head. “Loud.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

He shakes his head again. “Inside.”

“What does that mean?” Hob asks. “Are the baby’s powers bothering you?”

Dream nods as he pushes his face into Hob’s shoulder, Hob’s hands still covering his ears. “She is… growing into herself, and I am glad for it, but—” he breathes out, hard, tired— “but, I have been. Busy. And. My focus slipped. And she is very excitable. It seems.”

Hob really should do better than to forget the gap between what Dream feels and what he vocalizes. Listening to him talk normally, one would think that managing the baby’s burgeoning powers required no effort at all.

“You’ve been dealing with so much, my darling, haven’t you?” Hob holds him close and rocks him back and forth. “It sounds very hard. You’re doing so well.”

“Hob Gadling, I do not need your platitudes,” Dream growls, but he wraps his arms around Hob nevertheless, fingers gripped in his jumper. Hob keeps his hands pressed over his ears.

“‘Course you don’t,” he says. Then keeps up with the platitudes anyway, as they seem to be pulling Dream’s focus from the overwhelming music. “You don’t need me to tell you how powerful you are. Or how good a job you’re doing taking care of our baby as she grows. Do you?”

Dream just sighs, but doesn’t protest. Even dream kings need to be told they’re doing a good job sometimes, Hob thinks.

The music’s changed. It’s metal now, though still in that bells and xylophone register. “Baby likes Metallica?” Hob asks, and Dream makes a hmph sound into his shirt. “Think we can turn it down a bit? Matthew was crashing into walls.”

“You can turn it down,” says Dream.

Hob is about to ask, well, how? then thinks, fuck it, this is the Dreaming. He imagines a dial in front of him, and turns it.

The volume goes down.

The Dreaming’s so cool sometimes.

“Thank you,” Dream says.

“What were you up to before all this?” Hob asks, finally loosening his grip on Dream’s head now that the music’s lower.

“I was building her a room in the palace. I was… struggling to get it right. Perhaps the details will have to come to me later.”

“You seem pretty tired. Maybe you should just come back to it, hm?”

“Perhaps.” He finally lifts his head from Hob’s chest. “Would you like to see?”

“The room? Definitely.”

They get up, and Dream opens a door in his chambers that definitely wasn’t there before to take them through to another part of the palace.

Inside, it’s, well. It’s chaotic.

Much like in Dream’s throne room, the ceiling is composed of a literal night sky, deep enough to fall into. The walls bear murals of various Dreaming landscapes and the fantastical creatures that live in them, which Hob thinks Dream might have painted by hand. He also thinks they might be more like doorways than murals, at least when Dream allows them to be. There’s a stream running through the center of the room with actual fish in it—definitely a drowning hazard, but presumably Dream has some magic that would prevent that—and in the corner is, despite Dream’s claims that he could make one so much better, a direct replica of the crib Hob had put together in the Waking. Which is so sweet.

It’s all very chaotic, but it’s… nice, too? It’s eclectic and changeable, the way the baby’s power feels, when Hob’s felt it.

“It’s gorgeous, Dream, I think she’ll love it,” he says, and Dream’s tiny smile is surprised, but pleased. “Just make sure she doesn’t drown in the stream, yeah?”

“I will ensure it,” Dream promises. “She will come to no harm in the Dreaming.”

“Good.” He pulls Dream close, kisses his cheek, holds him as they look at their child’s room. Their child. They’re really doing this? Trying again?

Well. There’s really no turning back now.

Dream sighs tiredly, leaning into his side.

“I wish I could help you more with this,” Hob says. “I know I can’t, not with all of it, but still.”

“Such is the way of things,” says Dream.

Hob wraps his arms around him from behind, cradles his belly in his hands. It’s something he did, once upon a time, for Eleanor. Dream doesn’t have much of a belly at all—Hob doubts he ever will at this point—but he seems to appreciate the gesture. It’s all about the meaning of a thing with Dream, rather than the materiality.

Indeed, Dream hums, laying his hands over Hob’s.

“I hope you aren’t suffering too much,” Hob says, hooking his chin over Dream’s shoulder.

“Suffering, no,” says Dream. “Feeling as though I have taken on a second job, so to speak, yes. But.” He looks down, smiling lightly. “It makes me happy, to feel her. When she is not trying to play extremely loud music, that is.”

“Soon she’ll just be playing extremely loud music in my flat. How much insanity am I going to be coping with, by the way? Are we going to be taking home a fully-grown terror?”

“Mmm. Rather more agency than a human baby, I expect.” He sounds like he’s enjoying the prospect of chaos at Hob’s expense. Of course.

“Terrific. Time to concept-proof the house. As a concept, you’ll have to advise.”

Dream chuckles, holding onto Hob’s hands where they’re still wrapped around his belly. Hob kisses the side of his neck.

“Is there anything I can do for you, darling? Anything that will make you feel better?”

“I will come back with you to the Waking, for a time, if you are not busy,” says Dream.

“Never busy when it comes to you,” Hob says.

Dream gives him a look over his shoulder, but doesn’t protest. Hob holds onto his hands as Dream takes them to the Waking.

It’s always really weird waking up that way. There’s no proper line between dreaming and waking, the dream-space of their daughter’s future bedroom just sort of cedes into Hob’s flat, and he finds himself in bed, blinking awake in the dark. Dream is lying curled in his arms, in much the same position as how they were just standing.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Hob says, and Dream huffs.

“Will you indoctrinate our child with your sense of humor?” he asks.

“I’ll sure try.” 

Dream just sighs again in response, long-suffering as always. Hob cuddles him close, and feels the way his whole body relaxes. It’s lovely how, in all the turmoil of pregnancy, he seems to be gradually allowing himself a modicum of greater relaxation and indulgence, at least when they’re together. It’s still only a small percentage of what he truly should allow himself, in Hob’s opinion, but it’s progress.

“I’m glad you came back with me,” he says, petting Dream’s hair. “Take a break for a little while.”

“For a short time, perhaps,” Dream agrees.

“For a longer time?” Hob says.

He really thinks Dream might benefit from taking some time off before the baby is born, too. Taking time off is anathema to Dream, and he’s not particularly fond of being told what to do, either, so Hob hasn’t pushed it much. But there’s no real reason not to. The Dreaming won’t fall apart if he takes some time for himself, just for a few months.

“I don’t know,” Dream says, which is as good as a no. “Perhaps.”

And Hob gets what’s going on in his mind. If Dream felt that resting was something he needed to do for his daughter’s sake, he would likely do it, but as it stands it feels far too self-indulgent for him. He can’t stand to allow himself that.

“What can I do for you now, darling?” he asks. “What do you need?”

Quietly, Dream says, “Will you make love to me?”

“Oh, love.” Hob kisses the back of his neck. “You hardly have to ask.”

He can imagine Dream’s tiny smile, even if he can’t see it.

He traces his hand down Dream’s chest, Dream’s shirt disappearing into mist in the wake of his touch. Dream leans back into him, and Hob keeps touching him, lower now, brushing the hem of his pajama pants, which likewise dissolve back into dreams. He dips his fingers between Dream’s legs, drawing another long sigh from him that merges into a low groan.

“Sensitive?” Hob teases, and Dream huffs. Hob kisses under his jaw, holding him close. “It’s okay. You’re so beautiful right now, you know that? So gorgeous.” He splays his free hand over Dream’s belly, arm wrapped around him, as he keeps working him with the other. Dream shivers and squirms under his touch.

Hob delves his fingers into him. Dream is already wet and aching, so wanting. Hob takes himself out of his pajama pants, thrusts between Dream’s thighs. Dream gasps as Hob nudges at his entrance, then moans as he eases in, so easy, like Dream was just waiting for it.

He gives a few slow thrusts, breathing out hard against the back of Dream’s neck. “Feel so good, love.”

Dream grabs onto his hand, squeezing tight. “Hob.”

Hob rolls his hips, fucking him long and slow, lips pressed to Dream’s skin. He can’t lie and say he isn’t very into Dream like this. There’s nothing particularly physically different about him. But he’s so wanting. And when they’re alone together, he’s so open about wanting, too. Hob is very much into a Dream who wants to be coddled and is willing, at least to some degree, to admit it.

He keeps rocking into him, kissing his neck. Dream pushes back against him, meeting each thrust. He feels so good, lax, and pliant, shivering when Hob rolls into him. Hob holds tight to Dream’s hand, gasping at each peak of their rhythm.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Hob murmurs against his skin. “Is that good for you, love?”

“Yes, yes.” Dream cries out as Hob presses in deep, then shudders, clenching down around him. “Hob.”

“So good, sweetheart. Perfect. I love you.”

He keeps up his steady, measured pace, though Dream’s body feels so good it makes him want to just chase his own release until he catches it. Make love to me, Dream had said. And Hob will. He’ll always want to hold him close, to make him feel good, to feel the way Dream relaxes when he knows he’s loved.

“Please,” Dream begs, “please, Hob—” and oh, Hob loves when he can unravel him enough to get that.

He kisses the affected pulse in Dream’s throat, murmurs, “Shhh, love, I’ll always give you everything you want, don’t you know?”

“Yes,” Dream breathes, “yes, yes—”

Then he comes, clenching tight around Hob with a gasp. His body spasming pushes Hob over the edge, too, and he holds Dream close as he spills in him, Dream letting out a low whine at the feeling.

When he’s recovered his breath, Hob carefully pulls out, and leans over Dream’s shoulder to catch his lips in a thorough kiss. Dream twists and tangles his fingers in Hob’s hair, humming into the kiss.  

“You know,” Hob observes, as they’re still tangled together, a smile tugging at his lips, “this is kind of how we got into this situation? Still didn’t talk about birth control, either.”

Dream grumbles, pulling back far enough to look at him. “I can hardly get pregnant twice at the same time.”

“Didn’t think you could get pregnant once,” Hob says. “I wouldn’t put anything past you, love.”

“I vow that I will not get pregnant again,” Dream concedes, with a long-suffering sigh.

“Retroactively?”

“Hob.”

Hob laughs at his aggrieved tone, squeezing him tight. “Even if you did, it’s alright. We’d make it work. I doubt dealing with two is something you’d want right now, though.”

“I certainly would not,” says Dream. “Your daughter is already very demanding.”

“She’s my daughter when she’s being demanding?”

“Correct,” says Dream haughtily, and Hob kisses him again.

“Then she’s your daughter when she’s making things float in my living room,” he tells him.

“Float,” Dream echoes. “Perhaps. I’m uncertain exactly how her powers will manifest in the Waking. It is clearer to me in the Dreaming, although all dreamers have some ability to mold the dreamspace around them, part-Endless or not.”

“I’m definitely feeling so prepared for it.”

Dream quirks a smile. It seems to be at Hob’s expense. “I am sure you will manage. You’ve endured greater challenges.”

“Have I?”

Dream only continues to smirk at him, somewhat wickedly, so Hob tousles a hand in his hair and gets up. “Stay there, my prince. Let me do all the work.”

“I shall,” Dream says, lying back and sprawling out in the sheets. Hob just shakes his head fondly as he turns to the bathroom.

--

After he’s cleaned them both up—Dream certainly not lifting a finger for any of it—he holds Dream against his chest, Dream with his head tucked under Hob’s chin and one leg slung over Hob’s thigh. Maybe this is one reason he refuses to have an actual pregnant belly. He wouldn’t be able to lie like this comfortably if he did.

He combs his fingers through Dream’s hair, and Dream hums in pleasure, making a low purring sound that rumbles through Hob’s chest. If only it could be like this always, Hob thinks. Or at least, until the baby’s born, and for some time after. Dream doesn’t have to work himself to the bone. He can have this for longer.

“Be sure to stay for a while, yeah?” he says. “Don’t go back right away. Take a nap and then I’ll make you breakfast and— just, you know. Stay.”

Dream doesn’t explicitly agree, but he tucks his nose into the hollow of Hob’s throat. At least it’s quieter here for him, Hob thinks. He needs the peace. Even if it doesn’t last.

“Love you, you know,” Hob says, pressing a kiss into Dream’s hair. “Whatever you decide.” And he holds him long into the morning.

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm a teen aspiring author. I live in a house with three children and my walls and door are not very soundproof. Do you have any tips to get focused not by reducing distractions but getting focused while still being in the middle of chaos?

Focusing Despite the Chaos

Even if you can't eliminate distractions, it's still worth trying to minimize them, so I want to start there... then I'll get to what to do if you can't. Here are some things you might be able to try...

1 - Minimizing Noise - In a perfect world we could all afford a nice pair of noise cancelling headphones, but there are other ways to minimize the noise that reaches your ears. For example, many convenience stores and stores with pharmacy areas sell packets of disposable ear plugs for just a few dollars. These can reduce noise enough to make it less distracting, so definitely worth a try.

2 - Utilize Continuous Sound/"Noise Colors" - Continuous sound, like the deep rumble of a waterfall or the gentle roar of heavy rain, falls on a spectrum called noise colors. White Noise covers all frequencies equally, so it provides a soothing background hum that can help to minimize other sounds. You can find white noise generators via different apps and places like YouTube or web sites like A Soft Murmur. Or, you can put on a loud fan, air purifier, air conditioner, etc. Pink Noise is a little softer, like the fall of gentle rain, so this might be something like a fan on a lower setting. Brown noise is a step lower than that, like the ambient noise you get from having the window open on a quiet but breezy day. White, pink, or brown noise can be a great way to reduce the impact of chaos coming from the rest of the house.

3 - Put on a YouTube Ambience Room - YouTube is absolutely bursting with "ambience rooms" and channels dedicated to study music, sleep music, relaxation music, etc. These can be a fantastic way to promote focus, not only because they give you something steady to listen to, you can often find things that gel thematically with whatever you're writing, which can help you block out other distractions.

4 - Try a ZenWare Writing Program - OmmWriter, ZenWriter, Focus Writer, and others provide features that help you focus on your writing, such as simple interfaces, special typing sounds, white noise and sound generators, and word counters. These are not typically free but are usually reasonably priced.

5 - Shift Your Writing Time - Even a chaotic house has its quiet times. It could be early in the morning before everyone else is awake, late at night after everyone else is in bed, during mealtime, or when everyone is away. Pay attention to when the chaos is at its lowest each day and try to utilize those times for writing if you can.

When you can't minimize the chaos...

Any combination of the above tactics can still be great ways to help you focus a little more, even if it doesn't really reduce the noise or chaos. Just having things like a special screen or special audio to focus on can help you mentally block out distractions. To some degree, it's something that takes some trial and error--to see which tactics work for you--and practice. I know writers who can write on plans, trains, buses, car rides, in the middle of busy places... it's just something they did out of necessity and got good at with time. You will, too. ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[reblog-house]

Painting With Blocks

Written for Hermit-a-day-May, day 21: Bdubs!

Wc: 452

Ao3: Here!

Bdubs paints with blocks.

A landscaping job is nothing more than brushstrokes of oils overlapping each other, finding just the right hue and the right shade to make a painting breathe and pulsate.

Bdubs walks through his forest, each block chosen with care and devotion, specifically picked out with its effect in mind. As he looks up through the branches and leaves, he know. Nothing was out of place.

His feet crunch the grass below, and he can almost feel stains of paint forming on the hem of his pants with every blade of grass stroking against him.

The sound of rushing water makes him smile, and he turns around at his false river and miniature waterfall.

How does it look like the river is snaking along? That new and new water crash below with a plume of water droplets around it? How does that happen, when nothing truly moves?

A job well done. That’s all Bdubs can think, looking over and around him. All that’s missing is ambient noise. It was a good idea, adding a single block of water hidden away near the false river to provide more immersion, and tying those bunnies in strategic spots makes the place more lively, like it’s truly a natural biome, unless you pay close attention to the details.

The cabin was also a fantastic addition. His mailbox may be a bit too far away for ease of access, but he can’t bring himself to regret the position he eventually, after many weeks of pondering, settled on. 

And the once leafless tree that breached the gap between his base and the forest now fit in with the rest of the landscape. It was a hard choice to make, but the end result made it completely worth it.

Bdubs has made a bunch of builds he’s been proud of, and the cyberpunk city he’s doing with Impulse is also up there, as well as the Tree of Whimsey of last world, and the cathedral… Well, he’s been, and is still, very proud of a lot of things he’s built over the years. Saying he’s more proud now than ever before may be a bit of an exaggeration. But he does believe this is the culmination of everything he’s been working towards for many years.

The build isn’t finished yet. Far from it.

Seeing the leaves rustle with the wind, the river and waterfall nearly flow despite their solidity, the small bursts of smoke that leave the chimney of the cabin where he hid his mailbox, and the tiny hops of the bunny rabbits, he can tell it’s all slowly locking into place.

The landscape is nearly breathing. 

He can’t wait to bring it to life.

[celestialspecial]

Expanding Galaxies - (Pt 6)

You stood on the balcony to your room, admiring the clusters of stars that painted the night sky. The sun had already set, painting the horizon in a wide array of purples, oranges, and pinks before fading into the deepest navy.

A far off sound of calling birds and various ambient noises from the waterfalls around you sang out in a brilliant chorus.

A cool breeze blew through the air making you shudder, rubbing your shoulders for a hint of warmth. To be fair your outfit wasn’t quite suited for a nighttime stroll.

The gala to celebrate successful exchanges and encourage new ones was tonight and a fanciful dress had found it’s way to your bed. It was never something you’d have ever picked for yourself and yet wearing it tonight felt right.

Gossamer tulle in the palest blue spread over your shoulders, spilling forward to gather at your waist, held by delicate braided silver ropes that reminded you of tree branches reaching outward.

Little was left to the imagination as your chest was nearly exposed save the tender fabric barely concealing your breasts. A slit cut gracefully up one leg, the rest hidden by the waterfall of fabric pooling to the floor.

But your favorite part had to be the rivulets of crystals dotting along swaths of the material, catching the light this way and that. The night sky made manifest on your gown.

A section of your hair gathered in the teeth of an opalescent comb, just enough to keep stray hairs from your face.

Another gust of wind had you shivering and backing away from the balcony just when a firm single knock sounded on your door.

Closing the entrance to your balcony, hoping to stave off the chill and gather as much warmth into your room before nights end, you slowly made your way to the noise.

The wind was no longer chilling you but the tingling running through your body at the sight before you was prominent nonetheless.

Billy stood before you, cloaked in the deepest navy. Like the sky, you thought. Lush velvet with satin black piping and two opal cuff links, similar to your hair comb.

His dark hair appeared almost an inky black as it was slicked back, matching dark scruff hugged his jaw appearing a little less ‘clean shaven’ than you were used to.

His dark eyes roamed your body hungrily. Pupils lost in a sea of inky blackness and you swore you could feel each body part light up as his gaze traveled over it.

“You look…” his eyes finally returned back to your face to hold your attention, “transcendent.” 

The heat rose in your cheeks and surely you could feel the warmth extend to the front of your very exposed chest. Hoping he didn’t notice, you smiled up at him, fiddling with a piece of the silver rope before accepting his outstretched arm.

“Shall we?”

You’d never been to a gala on earth but you were sure they couldn’t compare to this. 

Packed to the brim with xiadians and humans all clothed in fine fabrics and covering every hue of the rainbow, even a few others that toyed with your eyes in a downright alien way.

Tables of fresh cut fruits glistening under candlelight, baked goods with their sweet aroma wafting into the air. Meats and seafoods, some recognizable and others completely foreign.

Chalices of dark sour smelling liquid and flutes of bright pink bubbling mixtures were passed around. You noticed only the xiadians seemed to be gravitating towards the foul smelling drink.

Music rang out and a large dance floor was filled with groups walking, chatting and dancing. The music you recognized, songs you had heard in earth, orchestral tunes that made your heart ache thinking of home.

As a servant passed by Billy grabbed two glasses of the sparkling pink flutes and handed one to you. It felt like an icy cloud soaring over your tongue, fizzing in the back of your throat.

“So what is-“ you inclined your head towards the goblets a few more xiadians grabbed and tossed back heartily. “That?”

Billy swallowed the rest of his own drink, his dark eyes returning to yours.

“It’s zhelaris ale. Incredibly strong and incredibly terrible.” He winked at you. “But xiads…well let’s just say it takes a lot to get us drunk.”

Your eyes drifted back and forth to the beautiful gowns and the dance floor. You’d never been a skilled dancer but something inside your cells seemed to hum with the tune being played.

This wasn’t missed by Billy, who set his glass onto a passing tray. Gently taking your own empty flute and placing it on a nearby table.

“Would you like to dance?” 

Heat rose in your face, first excitement soared through your veins then a telltale bashfulness at the chance of potentially looking like a fool.

“I would, but…”

His one eyebrow rose, gaze encouraging you to continue. 

“But, I’m afraid. I haven’t dance, at least not like this…in a very long time.” 

“Well the good news is it’s a lead dance. So all you need to do is follow me and my steps.” The worry must not have completely left your eyes because his thumb was there at the side of your mouth, brushing your skin softly.

“If you should not enjoy it or wish to continue we don’t have to.” 

He held his hand out to you, letting your own fingers drift against his, his warm skin tingling against your own.

Slowly guided out to the dance floor, the fabric of your dress skating along the marbled surface behind. A firm hand resting against your waist. The soft touch of his thumb resting against your bare skin where the dress cut off. 

The music struck up a melodic tone, and then you were moving. It resembled enough of a waltz for you to catch on. Thankfully Billy was enough of a good dance partner that following his lead came naturally.

Whirling and twirling past other couples, the swell of the music capturing you both in a vivid haze. The candlelight danced across his face, you could’ve sworn you saw blue sparkle in dark eyes as the next cascade of shadow fell over you.

How your feet kept pace you didn’t know but the notes sped up then reached a crescendoed peak before a final dulcet tone rang out to signify the songs end. 

Laughter and clapping actually spread through the onlooking crowd and dancers. You smiled up at Billy, his own expression one of pure enjoyment. 

Playfulness danced in his eyes, and you noticed his hand hadn’t left your waist. A moment later another song began, one much more different.

Slower, thicker, deeper. A rolling melody with the steady undertone of drumming. The beat seemed to coalesce with your own heart.

You felt your partners hand grip yours tighter. More xiadians took to the floor, it was clearly a song that they knew. 

Eyes widened and heat rising to your face as you glanced around.

“Billy, I-I don’t know this song.” How to dance to it, how to move…there was a roiling in your stomach. 

The tempo was all consuming, ancient. It reminded you of Billy. Feeling the weight of his stare on you before he leaned in close to whisper, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Just follow my lead.” Trust me. An unspoken phrase. 

Your chin dipped with a quick nod and then you were off. The rhythm would grow and fade in a sensual flare.

The movements were much more fluid, there was an indescribable feeling that prickled over your skin with each new motion and gesture.

Did the other humans feel it too? You wanted to look at them but your eyes couldn’t be torn from the face before you.

A being carved of rock and energy and shadow and power. Smooth, calculated, a predator stalking its all too willing prey.

And his eyes…his eyes no longer black but an unearthly blue. The thunderous muscle in your chest beat a rapid tattoo as the music began to pick up.

Spinning, the room around you blurring, fingertips digging into the soft velvet on his shoulders. 

Was it the drums or the blood pounding in your ears? Ritualistic- a carnal beat. This dance unlike anything you’d ever seen or felt before. 

Peaking higher and higher, the trill of singing notes whistled in your mind as your head felt like it was filled with the fizzing pink liquid.

His grip on you remained tight, guiding you through each new loop, swirl and dip. Gliding and you could swear your feet hadn’t touched the ground. 

The song reached its climax and in a rush of movement, hands hoisting you skyward as you leapt up in a final display. 

In that weightless moment you could see others also being lifted as part of the dance in your periphery. 

Then held aloft for another second before Billy lowered you steadily and slowly. Your body pressing and grazing against the entire length of his own. 

It sent ripples of pleasure tingling through your body. His forehead rested against yours, strands of his hair tickled your skin as you could breathe deep the scent of him. 

When you looked once more his eyes were again their original deep brown. 

Realizing the both of you were panting Billy lead you from the dance floor and off to a less busy alcove by the drinks. Your chest seemed to buzz with frantic energy. Had it been the deepest parts of your soul those drumbeats had reached or something else?

It was dim in the hidden corner you two had retired to, yet your eyes didn’t dare drift open fully. Letting your hand skim along the side of his suit jacket, then shifting it underneath.

You feel Billy tense under your fingertips, hard muscle, a breath stopped short in his throat. It felt good, having just a moment of power over him.

Your other hand reached up to join underneath his coat. Splaying against the silk of his shirt. It rippled and cascaded in colors reminiscent of an oil slick. 

Pulling him deeper into your hiding place. Music played on, close but also so far away. You needed his mouth against your own. To taste him after that dance, had it affected him as it had you?

Feeling your tug Billy leaned in closer, legs coming in close as you pressed yourself further away from the crowd beyond.

His mouth against yours made your head feel dizzy. Light and heavy all at once. 

Maybe it was the dancing, maybe it was the drinking maybe it was everything but you couldn’t suppress the giggle building in your chest as his stubble brushed against your own jaw.

“What’s so funny?” The delicious scrape of his trimmed beard pressed to your flushed skin.

The way his brown eyes glimmered in the lowered light of the evening. Soft and wicked.

“Do you ever not feel weird about this?” He always seemed so confident, like he was destined to be here and you were a laughable mistake. 

“I mean, to me you’re a spaceman.” The laughter rippled through your body at the awkward statement. 

“A man of the stars?” His own mouth was pulled into a grin as he placed another kiss along your neck, tongue darting out to tickle the shell of your ear.

“Starman.” Your fists gripped into his jacket, knuckles going white. If you held onto him tight enough perhaps you wouldn’t topple over the side of the planet and its weak sense of gravity. 

“I suppose that is what I am.” Your lips met again, his hot mouth working against yours until you didn’t need to open your eyes to see stars.

When he pulled away and you could breathe once more a memory crossed your mind.

“My dad used to love a movie called Starman. It was very old, even to him, but I remember watching it. Thinking how when it was made it was considered outlandish and sci-if.” 

Billy watched you recall this moment, eyes scanning your face as if he could read each thought from the minuscule muscle changes .

“It was about aliens?” 

“Yes. An alien, well- he comes to earth and has to figure out how to get home.” The heat in your cheeks wasn’t just from the kiss now.

How he watched you, intently listening as if hanging on every word. You’d never had this much undivided attention before in your life. Maybe that’s why you felt so uncertain to continue.

“And does he…get home?” His hand had moved to press against your wrist now. Pulse fluttering under his thumb. The digit soothingly caressing against your skin.

“Yes.” Your lips parted, tongue licking the bottom one before continuing. “But not before he falls in love.”

You didn’t know it was possible, but his dark eyes grew brighter. A flash of blue then that familiar blackish brown, lit up from something within.

“With a woman from earth.” 

All you could do was nod your head. The marble column pressed into your back, you could feel a film of sweat along your spine. 

If you had blinked you would’ve missed the faint twitch of his lips into a subtle smirk. Quick, but not teasing. No. More telling if anything.

“It seems the writers were ahead of their time with that one.” His hand unpinned your wrist, grazing along the fabric of your skirt, skimming tauntingly against your bare thigh. 

You made a noise from the back of your throat and his hand ceased all movement. Any sign of light in his eyes was replaced with a darkness that gobbled up all the remaining brightness.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words died in your throat. The heaviness of his hand, warm and present against your thigh. Fingers just brushing the inside enough to make you want to squirm. 

“And this Star man, he goes home. And never sees her again?” You swallowed thickly. In truth, yes that is exactly what happens. Why did it make your chest feel tight? 

Billy was on top of you now, your chests bumping against one another with each breath. Agonizing how you could smell him, his taste still on your lips. How were you to form a coherent thought when all you wanted was for him to tear this dress off of you?

“He does. But he-“ 

“He?” 

“Gives her a gift.” His lips parted in a gentle “ah”. Waiting. He knew. You KNEW he knew. But he was waiting for you to say it. “A baby.”

“Is that so.” 

With that you surged forward, fingers clasping into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp pulling him into you. Lips devouring each other like it truly was your last night here. 

He groaned as your nails grazed down his neck, tugging at his collar. He stepped forward pinning you firmly against the column and you could feel his excitement pressed to your thigh.

His fingers drew up and parted your skirt, until they found their mark. You moaned, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Hand fisting into his dress shirt as his fingers delved between your legs.

“Billy” 

“Do you want me to do that?”

Your reply was a garbled nonsense of words and noise.

“Do you want me to give you a baby?”

Your mind wanted to battle, to say no- not yet. To remind him it wouldn’t be yours. Not to keep. That as soon as that happened he’d be gone.

That it was all moving so fast and yet not fast enough. The blood was pounding in your ears. You were helpless and hopeless in the worst way. 

And yet you knew resistance was futile.

“Yes.”

[seraph-of-sizes]

If you have the time, do you have any head cannons of giant tighnari?

Tighnari: I actually got him on his banner, and somehow managed to snag Hunter’s Path for him as well. He absolutely carried me through Sumeru.

(These will be hcs with Giant in context of giants to humans, not humans to borrowers)

Withering Zones in his Avidya forest? Not a chance. He restores them as soon as they form, and puts a lot more effort into the research to prevent them reappearing or appearing elsewhere. His size makes most of the enemies that appear in the zones far less dangerous therefore he’s more likely to let Forest Rangers or even adventurers tag along.

THE EARS! He can literally hear everything, from the faintest rustle to whispers. He and Cyno tested it after Tighnari came crashing through the Wall of Samiel after hearing Cyno scream for help while doing a job in the desert, all the way from the Avidya forest. The range is dependent slightly on how familiar he is with someone’s voice, otherwise it gets lost in ambient noise. If Cyno yells at the top of his lungs, with the wind blowing from Cyno’s location towards Tighnari, no large waterfalls in between, and the weather is fair, the farthest he can hear someone is the border of Liyue to the Mausoleum of King Deshkret.

He enjoys talking to anyone about megafauna/megaflora as that was his research focus in the Academiya…for obvious reasons.

He lets those he trusts sleep near him, since he’s fairly vulnerable while sleeping. Collie and Cyno sometimes get cold and sleep in his tail.

[girlwiththepapatattoo]

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 15

Warnings: non-graphic oral sex, Astarion being himself

Summary: The Underdark isn't great, and Sable finds an enterprising use for the Fog Cloud spell.

Notes: Oh focus, where hast thou gone?

Sorry for the wait for this chapter, this week's been hell and I might be getting sick. Anyway, enjoy! <3

Read on Ao3 here!

Previous Chapter | First Chapter

They leave by the open window of the dilapidated chapel, as they didn’t find a way to turn off the damaging beams that killed the sudden rampaging minotaur so quickly. 

And they’re immediately attacked by a spectator. 

Who started unpetrifying the statues of drow placed around the cliffs. 

After somehow making it through that battle, bruised and battered they start making their way down to lower ground. 

And are attacked by a bulette.

They deal enough damage to the thing that they kill it before it can escape down it’s many burrow holes in the ground, but by this time no one is eager to move on to face more threats. 

After taking care of those exploding mushrooms, they make camp. And the entire time Astarion, slightly bloodied but not too badly off, is muttering under his breath. 

“Oh, yes, the Underdark is surely the safer route,” he hisses as he hammers in a tent peg a little harder than strictly necessary. “Surely, if this is the optimal choice between the two, the mountain pass would have been absolutely lethal! Good thing we listened to that very intelligent druid’s advice!” 

Halsin, setting up his tent literally across from the vampire, gives him a flat look. “If you have a complaint with my counsel, Astarion, speak it to my face.” 

“I’m sorry, it seems the area is sadly lacking in ladders tall enough to accommodate that,” comes the tart reply. 

On Halsin’s left, Karlach cackles. “You just called yourself short!” 

“I most certainly did not!” Astarion protests. “I’m calling him a giant. World of difference.” 

“Will you stop bickering?” Gale says huffily as he walks by, his own tent already up (magically, of course). “None of us are happy with how we’ve been welcomed down here, but that’s no excuse to jump down anyone’s throat.” 

“Trust me, if I were down the druid’s throat, he’d most certainly know it,” the vampire says, and no one’s quite sure if he means it as innuendo or a threat. Probably both.

Several noises of discomfort follow that proclamation, and Halsin just sighs and ducks into his tent. Astarion smirks victoriously, then grabs his wash bucket and soaps, heading around the bend for the waterfall they’d discovered earlier. 

He pauses as he realizes that it’s already occupied. Sable stands there, letting the water rush over her, her hands pressed to the stone for support. The look on her face…his still heart pangs. She looks a million miles away, a look he’s all too familiar with. He undresses, leaving his armor and underclothes near her own, and steps up to her. “Sable.” 

She jumps, flushing as she realizes that he’s both here and naked. “O-Oh, Astarion. How long have you been here?” 

“Only a few moments,” he says softly. “Are you all right? You looked…far away just now.” 

She smiles weakly. “I’m fine, I promise.” But her smile is just a hint too small, the corners of her eyes just a little too tight. 

He sighs, reaching out and cupping his hand gently around her jaw. “Darling, remember when I told you that you’re very easy to read? I meant it.” He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to her forehead. “Don’t lie to me.” 

Her eyes close. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I’m…” She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, shakily. “It’s…this place. It’s too quiet, it’s too…oppressive. Yes, I’m a druid and everything, but I was raised in the city. It took long enough to get used to the forests. I know there’s nature down here, but it’s mostly mushrooms and other plants. There’s no wind through the trees, no animal calls, no…ambient sounds of the city streets.” She shivers. “I hate it.” 

Astarion softens, and he steps forward, wrapping his arms around his lover. She melts into him, her own arms winding gently around his middle. “I’m not exactly fond of the place myself,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek to her wet hair. “Now listen here, my kitten.” He feels her smile faintly against his chest at the nickname. “You’re not alone in this. None of us like it down here. So if you’re finding it overwhelming, just ask me for a distraction. Hm?” He pauses. “Well, so long as we’re not in a fight for our lives anyway.” 

She looks up at him, her hazel eyes locking into his crimson. “I need a distraction.” 

The air changes, becoming charged, intense. “Any particular type?” he asks, voice low, a sultry purr like velvet over her skin. 

She swallows, her mouth going dry. “Surprise me.” 

He smirks, and gently pushes her. Her back slaps softly against the wall behind the waterfall. “You are aware that anyone could just walk over and see us?” he murmurs, even as he lowers himself to his knees before her. 

Her eyes darken, even as her face flushes in both embarrassment and arousal. She waves her hand, green motes of light following her fingers, and a thick fog obscures the perimeter of the waterfall, hiding them from view. “Not anymore.” 

“My clever little kitten,” he praises. “Now, be nice and quiet for me. We don’t want them to come investigating any loud noises, do we?” 

He doesn’t give her a chance to answer, instead slinging one leg over his shoulder and leaning forward to bury his face into her core. 

She was quiet. Barely. And only because she seals her hand over her mouth. 

//////////////////////////////////

They emerge from the fog cloud, clean and refreshed, the young druid holding both their buckets as Astarion cradles her gently in his arms. He looks terribly smug as he carries her back to the campfire. Shadowheart hides a smile into her mug of tea as the vampire settles down with Sable in his lap. “Don’t you two look cozy.” 

“There has never been a more cozy couple,” Astarion says happily. “Oh, Shadowheart, be a dear and do your thing for her, please.” 

The cleric’s brow furrows as she searches Sable’s increasingly flushed neck. “I…can, of course, but I don’t see where you fed.” 

Sable hides her face behind her hands as Astarion smirks. “I can bite places other than the neck, you know.” 

The sigh that Shadowheart lets out is pained. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked.” But the gentle restoration spell washes over Sable anyway. 

//////////////////////////////////

Gale had to literally be carried out of the arcane tower. Slung over Halsin’s shoulder, he protested the entire walk away and back to their campsite from the previous night. 

“We already spent half a day in there,” the huge druid says, patting the wizard on the back. “Once this is all over, we can go back.” 

“But who knows what’ll get in there and mess about when we’re gone!” Gale protests, nearly on the verge of whining. 

“Stop your sniveling,” Lae’zel growls. “We must not waste any more time than we already have here.” 

“Here’s an idea,” Karlach says, crossing her massive arms. “How about we stop for lunch? I know I’m starving, and we’ll all think better on full stomachs.” 

There’s a general agreement about that, though Lae’zel grumbles a bit about the stop. Sable sits down and pulls out some dried meat and an apple, almost mechanically going through the motions of eating. Astarion sits beside her, leaning back on a boulder, crimson eyes trained on the rocky ceiling hundreds of feet overhead. “...you know, you may have a point,” he mutters, brow furrowing faintly. 

“About what?” she asks softly. 

“This place. I might prefer the city to a wilderness in the middle of nowhere, but…it was still nice to see the sky.” He sighs. “Endless rock gets so dull after a little while. What’s left to see? ‘Oh look, a new stalactite!’ Ugh.” 

She can’t help a smile, mirth dancing in her eyes as she chews. Glad to see a happy expression on her face, he continues. 

“And I mean really, all the damned mushrooms. It’s just so…phallic. Like this place is so boring to look at that it had to overcompensate with thousands of dicks.” 

She bursts out laughing, her face going red as she quickly smothers the sound, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention from anything nearby. 

And he does his best to ignore the uncomfortably perfect warmth in his long-cold heart. 

She seems better after that, more present, more herself. Even as they pick their way carefully across the craggy landscape. 

Even as they meet the myconid leader, who asks them to kill some slavers who are threatening his people. 

But especially as they walk away from the village, and she motions him down to whisper-laugh into his ear, “It’s an entire down of dickheads!” 

He’s never been more proud of her.

[will-the-psychic-type-elite92]

You know what? Heck it. Headcanons time. It's hard getting all my thoughts coherent, so if anyone wants to ask about specific Headcanons I will do my absolute best to answer the specific Headcanons. (I just figured out how to turn anon asks on if people want to ask via anon instead of profile so teehee)

Below the cut is a set of Headcanons you can pry from my cold dead hands.

• The legendary pokemon giving their sign/emblem to Summer: upon zoning out she hears intense ambient/natural noises and getting like. Non existent sensations relating to the typing?? It's hard to explain that are mostly associated with the legendary

|

----> When she obtained Raikou's Sign, she heard the boom of thunder the crackling of electricity, and she felt as if she'd been hit with like. A thunder wave. A bit tingly and "feeling" the excess electricity run its course. It was extremely scary at first, looking back on it.

|

----> Zapdos was a similar to Raikou, only a LOT louder and more intense. It actually left her ears ringing for about a day afterwards, and the electricity feeling was just slightly more intense than the one with Raikou

|

----> Entei’s wasn't as bad, all things considered. She could hear the roaring and crackling of a fire, and "felt" the warmth of the fire against her, though it was a pleasant warmth.

|

----> Moltress, again, was a louder fire roar, and the "fire heat," was admitted worse. Not the levels as inside the Volcano, but between that and what was felt with Entei

|

---> Suicune's (When I'm not writing with my friend who we agree gets to befriend Suicune instead) she hears the cascading of a waterfall, and can feel a cool wind from the north. Suicune's was probably the most pleasant experience

|

----> Articuno was the howling wind of a blizzard. And the temperature drop she felt definitely reflected that. Like. It was enough of a drop to bypass the temperature regulation material of her uniform. Definitely not an experience she wants to repeat

|

----> GOOD GOD HO-OH. I DON'T know how to explain the sound associated with their sign. Other than like. It's the noise in media that's heavily associated with like. White light. Heat Noise??. Is that a name for it?? I just call it the White Light Noise. Anyway the sensory feeling... she can't explain it. Honestly, that encounter is really such a blur after the capture. It was A Lot to process in the span of like 5 minutes. She never fully processed it but she's doing her best

|

---> Lugia. Pretty much just. Sealife ambiance, and see felt as if she was under the water. That's like the simplest one. Guardian of the Sea go brrr

|

---> Latias... the legendary she shares the deepest bond with. The only one to actively make physical contact when sharing her sign. In that she gently nudged her head against Summer's. In that moment, Summer felt as if she was in the sky, feeling the wind against her. Which, is her favorite feeling.

I know you technically get the sign from the involith, but still. I had to include the lady of all time.

Celebi is the outlier in that their sign wasn't associated with noise or sensation. But Celebi is baby and deserves a mention.

IF ANYONE IS INSANE ENOUGH TO READ THIS ENTIRE THING??? HI YOURE SO COOL. TYSM FOR READING ME RAMBLING ABOUT SUCH A WEIRD SERIES OF HEADCANONS I HAVE

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Watching Encanto again, and I'm wondering what Luisa's room is like at the start of them. From her characterization and song, I imagine that it's pretty austere, spartan even. She spends most of her time out and about, helping people, so her room may be just a bed and a wardrobe, maybe. Bare, built for utility over comfort.

Which means I hope that after the end of the film, her room is filled with all the comfy things. Maybe one of those mechanical huggers that gives you a full body squeeze. Big bathtub for soaking. Definitely a hammock. A body pillow, maybe. Lots of plants, maybe a gentle waterfall or fountain for some nice relaxing ambient noise.

She just... deserves all the comfort.

[amethyst-marie368]

Chapter 3: Meeting Snufkin - "When Spring Comes, We'll Meet Again"

I slowly separated from the group and walked closer to the forest, trying to find where I was when I heard the harmonica playing. After a minute, I found it. Looking in the direction of the waterfall, I could almost hear the melody again, phantom notes that tickled my ears and ebbed away playfully. I did what I didn’t do this morning. I walked in the direction of the notes. 

Exiting the forest, I found myself a bit of a distance away from where Little My, Moomin, and Snorkmaiden were. Looking at the ground, you could tell that someone had been fishing, a hole had been made in the ground for the pole to rest in. Aside from that, if one didn’t know a person had been here, they’d disregard the simple hole in the ground. Sitting, the ground wasn’t anything special. It wasn’t more comfortable, warmer, or unique in any way.

Yet… a fluttering sensation caught itself in my throat. I quickly bit the inside of my cheek to stop the growing smile. Ah. This was kinda ridiculous. Resting my head into my arms, I could still hear the others having a good time. What a nice place this is… Before I could get too into my daydreams, a startled shriek and a splash snapped me back into real life.

“Little My! Little My! Hold on!” Snorkmaiden desperately called out. I quickly stood up, noticing a figure in the water. Even if Little My was great at anything physical, this wasn't good.

Little My had entered the water and had slipped on the smooth rocks. Falling into the wide plunge pool of the waterfall Little My was swept away by the rapids. 

“Little My!” Moomin called out, running along the bank of the waterfall channel, looking for anything for Little My to grab onto. 

All of the melting snow had run off the valley’s mountains, and the pull of the water was fierce. I need to do something. 

Moomin ran to my side, Little My still trying to keep her head above the water. He had found a stick. It was too short to reach her.

“Moomin,” I said, taking off my cloak, throwing it to the side, and then quickly grabbing the end of the stick. “I can get closer to Little My. Quickly.” Nervous, Moomin could only do what I asked. 

Giving me a nod, I entered the slightly chilled water. The chill came from the snow run-off. Little My was approaching fast, and the water had already reached my waist. 

I grabbed at Little My, and the pull of the water forced me to fall completely into the water. Water entered my ears and nose, and Little My slipped out of my grasp. Blindly, I reached out, cloth brushed my fingertips, and I tightly held on. Moomin quickly tugged the two of us out of the water.

⧫ ⧫ ⧫

I lay on the ground I had previously sat, gazing at the sky and the clouds as they passed. 

…That one looks like a heart. Hmm, that looks like a cat with cheese. The sound of Snorkmaiden scolding Little My and questioning if she ‘had multiple lives’ went through one ear and out the other like ambient noise.

“Um… are you alright, Rauna…?” Moomin asked cautiously.

“Hm? Oh yeah. I’m alright. Just resting.” I replied. A small face peered over mine.

“...thank you for rescuing me.” Little My said, her eyes looking anywhere but my own. 

How am I supposed to reply? For some reason, ‘you’re welcome’ seems strange in this circumstance. It’s not like I would ignore someone in need… But I can’t ignore her thanks. 

I sat up, and Little My quickly moved out of the way to avoid hitting heads together. I turned, silently looking at her,

“...”

“...” Little My stared back.

“...you’re welcome. Next time you want to go for a swim, you can invite me another way, you know?” I joked, cracking a smile. Little My grinned, her eyes turned to crescents.

“Okay. Next time, I’ll invite you the right way.” 

But really... It really isn’t Little My’s luckiest day today. First, Stinky, and now this.

“We should go home, Moomin. We don’t want Rauna or Little My to catch a cold.” Snorkmaiden said with a frown. “I’ll go back first so Moominmamma can get some towels and something warm to drink.”

 I gathered my cloak off the ground and got ready to walk back to Moominhouse. Moomin, Little My, and I took our time silently walking back, tired from wrestling with nature…

⧫ ⧫ ⧫

We returned to Moominhouse. My first day here, and it’s already this eventful… I thought with a tired smile. Little My and I had mostly dried from the walk, but we were still a sight. The second we entered the door, Moominmamma instantly handed us warm towels to dry off.

“Come sit on the couch, the both of you. There’s still a chill in the air. We wouldn’t want either of you to catch a cold.” Moominmamma exclaimed. Fussing around us, she wrapped a blanket around us and handed us a cup of hot chocolate. 

“Thank you, Moominmamma.” It was nice to have something warm after the chill of the water. 

“Moomin? Come help me prepare to set the table, will you?”

“Yes, Mama.” Moomin obediently followed Moominmamma out of the living room and, from how their voices became distant, farther than the dining room. Kitchen? I guessed.

“Whatever happened, Moomin?…our guest is all wet…hasn’t even been here a full day…” Moomin’s and Moominmamma’s conversation drifted into the living room till it disappeared. 

With Moominmamma’s fuss, I hadn’t noticed that a person had walked in and was now sitting at the smaller, round tea table. We quietly looked at each other, curiosity glinting in our eyes. 

Who is this? Could he be the Snufkin Moomin was talking about? Little My darted her gaze between us, hot chocolate decorating her top lip.

“Snufkin! It’s about time! Spring already started, and you weren’t here!” She loudly exclaimed. “Where were you? You haven’t been late in ages.”

“Hello to you too, Little My.” He responded in an amused tone. Oh. His voice is pleasant. I nearly gave him a thumbs-up. I would be lying if I wasn’t attracted to his voice. But it's not my fault that I like nice-sounding voices.

“Oh, you know, around as usual. Nothing too special. I just took more scenic routes this time around.” Snufkin added, taking a look at me.

“Hello, I’m Rauna,” I say, smiling.

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Snufkin.” He replies, giving a smile back. Little My, done with her drink, jumped off the couch.

“This isn’t fun. I’m gonna go find Snorkmaiden.” She exclaimed. Seems like she gets restless a bit easily. Probably because of all that energy.

“She’s probably in the kitchen helping Moomin and Moominmamma, Little My. I’d check there first.” Snufkin said.

“Alright, thanks, Snufkin.” Little My then turned to me, ” And thanks again, Rauna.” I barely managed to reply before she ran out of the living room. 

Well then. This is going to be a bit strange now. I can socialize well enough, but I think I’m kinda awkward... Am I supposed to say something? I don’t know… After some time, I filled my mouth with my drink instead of talking.

“Did you…” Snufkin started and paused.

“Hm?” I looked up, swallowing the large amount of hot chocolate I filled my mouth with.

“Did you decide to go swimming? In this weather?”

“...” Was he genuinely asking… or was he making a joke? “What do you mean, this is the best day for swimming I’ve seen yet. You should try it sometime.” I said with a laugh. I sat cross-legged on the couch, cradling the warm cup.

“I know of a better place to get a relaxing soak.” 

I perked up at his comment, leaning towards him for the answer.

“Really? Where?” It’d be nice to explore Moominvalley before heading to the next spot.

“Past the waterfall is a natural hot spring, you know. When Moominpappa broke a bone one time, it healed him up quite nicely, I’d say.” 

Hmm, hot springs. Sounds wonderful! Definitely going to check that out.

“Thanks for the tip! I’ll definitely take a look sometime.” I said, then glanced at the dining room entrance. It’s been a while… Should I go help them? As I completed the thought, Moomin popped his head through the door.

“Dinner is ready! I call dibs next to Snufkin!” He yelled quickly.

“Hey! I was gonna sit there!” Little My complained.

“You can sit next to him next time, Little My. I’m going to get Papa, don’t steal my seat!” Moomin ran upstairs as quickly as he could. With a smile, I got up.

“Well then. Let’s go eat.” I said, turning to look at Snufkin before walking into the dining room.

⧫ ⧫ ⧫

We all settled at the table, and everyone had a seat. Moominpappa sat at the head of the table with Moominmamma on his right and Moomin on his left. Little My got her wish and sat with Snufkin between her and Moomin. Snorkmaiden and I sat on the other side of the table. 

I feel like I’ve been drinking a lot…first the fruit juice this morning, then the water from the waterfall, then hot chocolate, and now more water. I thought, taking a sip from my cup as Snorkmaiden chatted with Moominmamma about some recipes. I sat and ate there quietly. 

They didn’t pry to hear about the places I’ve visited before or the things I’ve seen, like the other past hosts. Instead, I was told stories. I met Moominpappa for the first time, who had been busy writing his memoir the whole day. He recited some of his tales of glory, fables, and legends. Of sea pirates and damsels. His stories and the laughter of everyone at the table filled the warm corners of the house.

⧫ ⧫ ⧫

After dinner, Snorkmaiden and Little My headed back home before it got too dark. No one else wanted to leave, so Moominpappa suggested playing a card game. 

I looked at my cards. Not lucky, and not horrible either. Oh well. Story of my life. 

The night dragged on and on…later and later into the night. Moomin had already gone to bed, and Moominpappa couldn’t contain his contagious yawns. Moominmamma looked at the time.

“Rauna, will you be staying the night with us? We have a quite comfortable guest room upstairs if you’d like.” Moominmamma asked me.

“Oh, no thank you, Moominmamma. I’ll be staying in my tent as I usually do. Maybe you know of a good spot where I can set up camp?” I asked in return.

 I never was comfortable enough to take up the offer of staying the night at the places I visited. I did try once. Couldn’t sleep the whole night and felt out of my element sleeping under someone else’s roof…

Moominmamma shifted her gaze to Snufkin. Curious, I looked at him too. He took the last sip of tea from his cup, then turned his gaze to mine. 

“I set up my tent a bit away from here, past the bridge. You can pitch your tent near mine. I have a fire pit already set up.” He said. 

I thought about it. I hope he wasn’t pressured by Moominmamma to invite me into his space… Let’s test out his reaction and decide on that. I opened my mouth and spoke cautiously. 

“...if you’re alright with it, that’d be nice. Thank you, Snufkin.” His expression didn’t change from how it was. No furrow of the brow to show that he was displeased that I had agreed, and no micro-twitch of the lip that would hide a frown. Relieved, I looked at where we were in the game.

Moominpappa seemed to be in the lead, with Snufkin as a close second placer. But…if Snufkin was giving it his all, I think he’d be in the lead. With me close behind him, I thought with a smile.

“Alright then, Rauna, I’ll go bring down your bag from my room,” Moominmamma said, getting up from the table.

“Thank you, Moominmamma.” I said, revealing my cards as I folded. It was time to get going. I looked at the antique clock, nearly one in the morning.

Snufkin waited at the door as I took my bag from Moominmamma. With a good night, we left Moominhouse.

It was a pretty silent walk to the campsite. The sound of our feet as we walked and the night creatures stirring in the distance felt terribly loud on this quiet night. But I felt the need to say something. The silence made me feel awkward. I hoped my voice wouldn’t crack.

“Moomin said you can play an instrument?” I asked. Snufkin glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

“That’s right. I mainly play the harmonica.” 

“That’s cool,” I said, smiling. And interesting. That means it’s highly likely that Snufkin was the one I played along to this morning. “Would you mind if I asked to hear you sometime?”

“Not at all,” he replied. “I play often. You’re bound to hear me, like it or not.” He continued with a smile. I let out a laugh.

“True. I’m looking forward to it.”

Crossing the bridge, I saw where Snufkin had pitched his tent, and he pointed out some even ground where I could set up my own.

“Do you want some help? It’s getting late, and I bet you’d want just go to sleep right now.” Snufkin asked. I paused from unpacking my tent.

“Actually…that would be much appreciated,” I said sheepishly. “I’m honestly pretty tired.” Snufkin silently walked over and helped pitch my tent.

“Thank you,” I whispered. The night was catching up to me. Snufkin nodded in response to my thanks. 

“No problem,” he added, sitting down to tend to the fire. 

Pausing in front of my tent, I looked back to his sitting form. “Going to sleep?” I asked.

“No, not yet.” The fire cast a pleasant glow onto his face. The flames reflected in his eyes as the sparks popped and cracked. I couldn’t help yawning at the strangely calm and comforting scene.

“Okay. Goodnight, Snufkin.” I said, entering my tent, ready to tuck into my blankets.

“Goodnight, Rauna.”

⧫ ⧫ ⧫

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[cimeret]

So, I'm a die-hard Cyan fan. Myst has been very influential to me as a child and kinda defined my whole idea of what a good game should be able to achieve in terms of immersion and atmosphere. I've been hyped for Firmament ever since I heard Rand say the words "callbacks to Myst" and "steampunk magic vibe" and "cool machinery". But now that I've spent a sleepless weekend playing the game, I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. Because the Cyan fan in me really, really wants to love this game and there's so much good stuff, but some of the decisions in gameplay and storytelling don't work for me and I just know Cyan can do better.

Spoilers for the game under the cut. Also, this post is going be image-heavy because, yeah, it's a Cyan game.

And first of all, YES, there's no absolutely doubt that this game was made by Cyan. Everything feels very Cyan. They just know how to build worlds. Beautiful abandoned places that fill you with a sense of melancholy and nostalgia and spark your imagination. Even on my old potato laptop with abysmal frame rates, I felt like I WAS in the world of Firmament. Sometimes I just stood there and looked around, enjoying the view. All buildings and machines are designed in Cyan's typical style between slightly fantastic and nitty-gritty steampunk realism, and fit seamlessly into the beautiful nature. For the architecture, this time they've opted for a heavily Art Decor inspired style. It makes everything seem very epic and grand, but also a bit austere, and goes very well with the many old and deserted factories we explore in the game. Where Obduction had worlds that felt like a small, close-knit community where people used literal junk to craft their homes and environments, in Firmament everything feels monumental and larger-than-life. The giant arches that span the skies of the worlds are visible from almost everywhere. You handle huge blocks of ice, dump tons of red acid into the sea (yuck), and raise large towers from the ground and open them. This feels like the stuff the D'ni might have constructed at the height of their power. And all of that fits right in with the theme and backstory of Firmament, that megalomaniac multi-generational plan to set off for a new world.

Much of what you would expect from a Cyan game is there. Three very different, atmospheric worlds + a smaller hub world. Epic maglev rides. Turn-on-the-power puzzles. A great visionary tale of hubris and enslavement. An underwater area that is the reincarnation of the selentic maze puzzle. Yeah, even the last one made me roll my eyes in fondness.

(The way the frozen waterfall reflects in the ice ... so gorgeous ...)

(You know it‘s a Cyan game if a puzzle looks like a something out of an amusement park)

(Look at the pretty! I was blown away by the beauty of the whole conservatory area. Just wanted to grab my things and move in.)

The great sound design also does so much to immerse you in the worlds. Headphones recommended! The crunching of ice, the singing of birds, the hissing when you open doors, the grinding of machine parts — I'm quite an auditory person and a big part of the charm of the Myst series for me were the very realistic noises when you turn rusty valves or some heavy door closes and locks behind you. The soundtrack itself left me a bit disappointed. It's mostly ambient and rather unobtrusive, creating a suitable atmosphere, but there were few pieces that stood out for me. One can certainly argue that this should be the point of an immersive soundtrack. Personally, I prefer Robyn Miller's haunting, simple melodies. Still, there were a few songs that I liked, such as Batteries Casting Shadows or Power Station.

(The most beautiful chill disco)

(Firmament also has its own "linking books". Never change, Cyan. <3)

The puzzles were integrated well into the environment. I found them all quite easy. For the most part, I figured out what I needed to do fairly quickly, and it was just a matter of getting it done.  A lot of the puzzles dealt with finding your way through an area and navigating the space, so they were puzzles that challenged spatial intelligence. And I love that kind of stuff so I was never really bored, but still a little more variety would have been nice. I would have liked to see some puzzles where you have to take notes or collect clues at different locations in the worlds.

The best puzzles were the ones where you had to learn how to first power and then operate huge machines that required multiple steps. Those kind of puzzles are a staple of Cyan games and always a lot of fun. My favorite puzzle in that regard was the sulfur processing factory. Just staring at the schematics of the huge mixer and the pipelines and figuring out what to do, then moving machinery parts and twiddling with them until it finally clicked — easily the best part of the gameplay for me. I just wish we could have had a bit more of this.

(That whole area gave me so many flashback to the original Myst .)

(YES just give me some huge, unnecessarily complicated, creaking machinery I can rotate and break!)

All the interaction happened via the adjunct only, so you just searched for sockets and operated them. In fact, everything was operated via the adjunct: doors, elevators, the maglevs, everything. And while handling the adjunct itself was very intuitive and the gameplay felt engaging and satisfactory, it did feel a bit monotonous in the long run. I miss my levers and buttons and valves. Interacting only via a blue glowing string that connects to the same socket model all the time made me feel very detached from the environment. As a direct consequence of the adjunct-focused gameplay, there were also no items outside of puzzles to interact with (aside from the few lore documents). No small, seemingly pointless toys that secretly taught you the mechanics of a larger puzzle. No drawers that you could pull open. I remember the creepy little projector in Achenar's room in Myst where a rose turned into a skull. All of this helped so much to make the worlds feel alive but there wasn't anything like this in Firmament. The decision for the adjunct was probably influenced a lot by the fact that the game is designed for VR, I get that. But when I look at the old kickstarter vids for Firmament where the little floating device is combined with "manual" actions like pulling a lever or pushing a button, I can't help but think the gameplay could have could have been more diverse and still applicable for VR.

(I loved taking a bath in sulfuric acid. But even the suit mechanic was getting a bit repetitive by the second time ...)

Speaking of worlds that feel alive ... here, too, I would have liked to see a bit more scenic storytelling to support the plot, which is largely carried by the monologues of the mentor. This is definitely something I know Cyan do better! The worlds they design are always very special in that they are deserted and contain hardly any NPCs, but at the same time so much life and story is conveyed through the setting. And I'm not just talking about the countless journals Myst is infamous for. The characters in Obduction, for example, had personalities — C.W., Caroline Farley, Mayor Josef, they felt real. Walking into the classroom in Riven, or Gehn's temple, you learned so much about him and how he presented himself. You slowly put together a picture of what had happened, of who these people were and who you could trust. And Firmament also makes some promising approaches in this direction. The constant unsettling brainwashing of the Keepers on the one hand. But on the other hand, everything we see presents a picture of a small community that lived very much in peace and simple happiness. There are things that don't add up, vaguely foreshadowing the twist at the end. All of those little bits and pieces are really great and inspire so much intrigue and mystery.

(Totally normal to have all those banners and doctrines on the walls of your workplace. Not creepy at all.)

(Who were those people? Wish we could've get to know them more ...)

But ultimately, at some point, the mentor decides to just tell you the truth and that's it. Most of the plot is covered in fifteen minutes of gameplay at the very end, through her monologues and the newspaper clippings and documents in the spaceship's control room. But at this point the game is already over, because there are no more puzzles to solve, no more decisions to make. The ending plays out like a visual novel. A beautiful one, no doubt — I loved the resolution and the kinda open, but hopeful ending. But I still I think the game would have worked better if Cyan hadn't been so bent on the spectacular effect of that plot twist at the very end. During the game I had already considered whether the mentor would turn out to be Turner, or maybe me? I was coming up with theories on where Turner really came from, and what he did to those people. And what the real purpose of this cycle of Sleeping and Awakening might be. I don't know, I think it would have been so much more exciting to discover clues for theories while exploring the worlds (via lore documents and setting), and not just through the mentor's monologues. The big twist at the end would have been less surprising, but I think the plot would have unfolded more organically and it would have felt more rewarding to come up with the truth on your own.

I am definitely going to replay the game (after buying a new laptop) and I'm curious to see if it changes my opinion. I've heard that Firmament runs very buggy for a lot of people and apparently, VR is broken. I'm not going to talk about bugs, because yes, while the game crashed numerous times during my playthrough and some parts played really janky, I'm not sure how much of that was due to my hopelessly outdated hardware. But all these things — buggy gameplay (I wonder how much playtesting was done?), poor VR implementation, a story that feels a bit lackluster in its presentation, lack of all those little loving details in the scenery that I usually appreciate Cyan for — all of it feels like some things were rushed during the development of this game. It might have needed just another round of polishing.

The basis for another Cyan classic is definitely there, but I'm afraid Firmament won't leave the same long-lasting impression on me as Obduction and certainly not the Myst series. And I'm a bit scared of what that might mean for the future of Cyan Worlds.      

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2022 - Day 24 Prompt: "Vicissitudes"

A little unresolved musing from my WoL as she tries to process all of the everything that keeps happening.

------------------------

Keimwyda was loath to rely overmuch on teleportation magicks for a few reasons—the aetheryte tolls, just to name one of them. But today she was willing to make an exception. 

She needed to get away from Revenant’s Toll, and quickly. Just for a little while. She needed to think.

It was a habit she had picked up as a youth. When life started to feel overwhelming, she would slip away into the woods, and find somewhere beautiful that she could be alone for a bit to sit, and look, and listen. Once she had begun to learn the harp, her instrument came with her. To date, many of her favorite compositions had their origins in all sorts of little hidden glades and alcoves in the Black Shroud.

And so she found herself again, less than half a bell since her decision to get away, tucked into the outcropping behind the waterfall just outside Gridania. She felt far enough from the road to avoid the noise of carriages and to feel like she could have her thoughts and her music to herself for a while.

She leaned her head against the harp’s frame, and she plucked a string.

The mellow tones of an A reverberated with a gentle, buzzing hum across her skull. Something about feeling the music helped to focus her and calm her. The ambient rushing noise of the waterfall dampened the tone a bit, but that was fine. All the better to hide her just a little more from the outside world.

She thought of where she sat now. Gridania was a good stretch away from her old homestead, but growing up, she usually made a few trips here a year. This waterfall was a favorite detour of hers. Today was by no means her first time to hide away behind its cascade. The environment should feel warm and familiar and comforting.

And yet.

She plucked another string.

The E note resonated against her temple, and she closed her eyes and breathed. This didn’t really feel like home to her. Not anymore. Or perhaps her recent journeys had simply thrown light upon how it had never quite felt like home in the first place.

She could bring no complaints against her guardian, nor against the people who lived in the nearby village. Nobody had truly made her feel unwelcome. Many generous souls had, in fact, been quite kind to her. Nearly no one knew her in Gridania back then, ‘tis true, but this was still an extension of her old stomping grounds. So why did she now feel so alien?

Had she changed so much? Or had she simply become more attuned to who she was—and who she was not?

She plucked another string—two in succession. Reaching ahead to the D string, and dragging her fingertip back across the E once more. The light dissonance of the first, still echoing in the rocks, threw a richness on the second. 

She was nobody, and she came from nobody, and she did not mind that at all. Her father was just a sailor, one of many among the Limsan docks. Her mother was just a gleaner, and no particular rising star in the Sharlayan Studium. And she was just their daughter, taken in by a kind friend, reared in a nobly simple life that was to keep chickens and bake bread and tend gardens and love music and help out her neighbors as she could. When she had finally struck out on her own, that had really been all she intended: see a little more of the world and help a few people on the way. 

That was before the Scions found her.

She plucked another string. It was a G, hanging at a melodically high reach above where she began. 

People had started calling her the Warrior of Light.

She found herself in front of world leaders, and was in turns intimidated and honored by the summons. Folks on the street began recognizing her. Grand Companies began clamoring for her to join with them and help lead them. She was looked up to, and envied, and cheered, and pressured. A “hot ticket item”, Thancred once said.

She plucked another string. Back to the D, as an unfinished musical phrase, a lingering question trailing off and hanging in the air.

It had all changed so fast when unscrupulous, powerful people saw her and her comrades as an obstacle to their aims. Her name—although not only hers, to be sure—had been dragged through the mud much like she had been bodily dragged before the shocked attendees at the banquet. She and her comrades had been made to flee. She thought she had lost nearly all of them for good. Those few whom she knew to have survived had sought refuge in a foreign land, insular and isolated from the people who had praised her and then turned on her. She was not without allies, of course, but she also dared not show her face in the world she once knew.

She did not much mind being largely unknown again. But she could have done without the easy visual brands of an outsider—a tall Roegadyn in a city of Hyur and Elezen. She certainly could have done without the looming threat of being branded a heretic as well.

She did find her heart knit to those new friends who rallied to her there and stood by her, even when Ishgard on the whole knew not what to make of her. She counted them all dear now. Haurchefant, Francel, the lords of House Fortemps, Ser Aymeric, Lucia. But they had risked much through their association.

Her fingers picked up and down her harp strings once more, repeating the notes from the start in a slow, deliberate line, asking the musical question again.

What to do with all of this—with any of it?

The plot against the Sultana and the Scions had unraveled, of course, and their good names had been restored. Ishgard had come (for the most part) to accept them and celebrate the role they had played in delivering them from wrathful dragonfire. It was certainly nice to not be hated. But she was no longer sure she could trust being celebrated, being thrust once more to the front and center of a stage she had never meant to climb onto.

She gathered her scattered thoughts of many things. People she had met and aided, and even some she had lost. Work she had done that she could be proud of. Places that—she sincerely believed—she had left better off than she found them. Comrades and friends she only would have found on the path she had chosen, although not knowing whence it led. Prices she had paid that were heavier than she could have ever imagined.

She played through the melody line again, but hesitated before following it back down. A few more high notes felt right, somehow—a quick hop to the B, the C, and back to the high A. 

A tear rolled down her face. She was searching for the will and the wisdom for the next thing, the right thing. Signs were beginning to point towards Ala Mhigo, and to another conflict that felt much, much bigger than her. The road seemed to be taking her yet again to new lands, which was at once exciting and terrifying. She had no assurances of success or ease. At least she was that much surer of the quality of the people she would have by her side on the way.

So much had changed in what felt like so little time. Now the winds were changing yet again. Her heart ached but it yet reached, as her fingers fell back to the lower end of the scale.

She plucked another string.

[wedezine]

From Roof to Retreat: Turn Your Rooftop into a Luxurious Green Haven

In the heart of urban landscapes, a roof garden is a luxury that transcends mere aesthetics—it’s a sanctuary where nature and sophistication converge. As city living continues to squeeze space, rooftops offer a unique opportunity to create a lush, elevated retreat that not only enhances your home’s value but also elevates your lifestyle. Whether you're surrounded by the vibrant pulse of the city or the calm of the suburbs, a well-designed roof garden can be your private paradise. Here’s how to craft an extraordinary roof garden that harmonizes with your interior design while providing a serene escape from the everyday.

1. Frame Your Sanctuary with Lush Greenery

The foundation of a stunning roof garden lies in its greenery. Start by defining your space with a variety of plants that create natural borders and provide a sense of seclusion. Consider tall, sculptural plants like bamboo or boxwood, which can act as living walls, enhancing privacy while adding texture and depth. Mix in evergreen shrubs, ornamental grasses, and seasonal flowering plants to ensure your garden is a vibrant, dynamic space year-round. This layered approach to planting not only adds visual interest but also fosters a tranquil environment where you can unwind and recharge.

2. Design Luxurious Seating Areas

Comfort and elegance are key to a luxury roof garden. Invest in high-quality outdoor furniture that combines durability with style. Materials like teak, rattan, and powder-coated aluminum are ideal for withstanding the elements while offering a refined look. Add plush, weather-resistant cushions in rich hues and textures to enhance the luxurious feel. Create distinct seating zones: a dining area for enjoying alfresco meals, a cozy lounge with comfortable loungers or a hammock, and perhaps a shaded nook for quiet reading or contemplation. These thoughtfully designed areas ensure your rooftop is as inviting as it is beautiful.

3. Introduce Water Features for a Tranquil Ambiance

Water features are a hallmark of luxury garden design, bringing both aesthetic and sensory appeal. Consider installing a sleek, modern fountain, a cascading waterfall, or even a tranquil pond filled with aquatic plants and fish. The soothing sound of water can drown out the noise of the city, creating a peaceful atmosphere that invites relaxation. For those seeking the ultimate indulgence, a heated plunge pool or hot tub surrounded by lush greenery not only elevates the garden’s visual appeal but also adds a functional element for leisure and entertainment.

4. Illuminate with Smart Lighting for Evening Elegance

Lighting is essential in setting the mood for your roof garden, especially as the sun sets. Incorporate a mix of task, ambient, and accent lighting to highlight your garden’s best features. Use LED strip lights to outline pathways, spotlights to accentuate architectural elements, and string lights or lanterns to create a warm, inviting glow. Solar-powered lights offer an eco-friendly option, while smart lighting systems that allow you to adjust brightness and color add a touch of modern sophistication. The right lighting can transform your rooftop into a magical, evening retreat.

5. Blend Natural Elements with Contemporary Design

Achieving a luxurious yet grounded aesthetic involves harmonizing natural materials with modern design elements. Incorporate natural stone, wood, and metal in your garden structures, flooring, and planters. To add a contemporary edge, introduce geometric shapes, clean lines, and minimalist features. Consider a pergola or trellis adorned with climbing plants to add vertical interest, and include a fire pit or outdoor fireplace to create a cozy, inviting space for cooler evenings. This blend of natural and modern elements ensures your roof garden is both elegant and timeless.

6. Create an Outdoor Kitchen and Entertainment Hub

For those who love to entertain, an outdoor kitchen or bar area is a must-have feature. Equip your space with a built-in grill, a sleek countertop, and a mini fridge to make food preparation seamless. A stylish bar area with high stools, a wine cooler, and ambient lighting can make your rooftop the go-to spot for gatherings. To ensure a cohesive look, design this area to reflect the same level of sophistication as your interior spaces, creating a seamless transition between indoors and out.

7. Add Artistic Flair with Sculptures and Installations

Art has the power to elevate any space, and your roof garden is no exception. Incorporate sculptures, wall art, or unique installations that resonate with your personal style and complement your garden’s design. Choose pieces made from weather-resistant materials like metal, stone, or resin to ensure they withstand outdoor conditions. Whether it’s a bold, modern sculpture or a delicate, nature-inspired piece, art adds a layer of sophistication and personal expression to your garden.

8. Embrace Sustainability with Eco-Friendly Features

Luxury and sustainability can go hand in hand. Incorporate eco-friendly elements into your roof garden to create a space that is not only beautiful but also environmentally responsible. Use sustainable materials like recycled wood, reclaimed stone, or eco-friendly composites for your furniture and decking. Implement rainwater harvesting systems, permeable paving, and solar-powered lighting to reduce your garden’s environmental footprint. Opt for native plants that require less water and maintenance, and consider a green roof to improve insulation and reduce energy consumption. These sustainable choices will ensure your garden is as kind to the planet as it is pleasing to the eye.

Conclusion

A luxury roof garden is more than an outdoor space; it’s a personal sanctuary that offers an escape from the hustle and bustle of daily life. By integrating thoughtful design elements, from lush greenery and elegant seating to water features and artistic accents, you can create a rooftop retreat that is both beautiful and functional. Ready to transform your rooftop into a luxurious paradise? Let WeDezine Studio bring your vision to life with bespoke design solutions that reflect your style and enhance your home’s value. Contact us today to start planning your dream roof garden.

[rainy-in-magicant]

As much as I like Waterfall in the game, I would not live there for sensory reasons. Constant ambient nature sounds, rushing water, fields of echo flowers repeating distorted noises endlessly? And the bright neon lights to boot? No thanks, I’m good.

[idcanyhtjng]

5 best sounds in no particular order

1. Melodic guitar riffs in heavy ass songs

2. Funny dog noises

3. The drums of war followed by a loud ass horn and chants.

4. Birdsong

5. Women’s laughter

Honourable mentions go to the rushing water of streams and waterfalls, the ambient noises of lonely woods and last but not least: beep boop.

[moyerslawnservice]

Decorating Retaining Walls in Gaithersburg and Silver Spring, MD

​Retaining walls are not just functional structures; they can also serve as prominent features in the landscaping design. In Gaithersburg and Silver Spring, Maryland, where the terrain can be challenging, incorporating retaining walls into the landscaping can address issues of erosion and slope and enhance the outdoor space's overall aesthetics.    Greenery and Plants   Integrating greenery into the designs of retaining walls in Gaithersburg and Silver Spring, MD can soften its appearance and harmonize with the surrounding landscape. Consider these ideas:   Vertical Gardens: Vertical gardens or living walls can be created by adding planter boxes or pockets to the retaining wall. Plant colorful flowers, trailing vines, or herbs for a stunning visual effect.   Creeping Vines: Allow vines like ivy or bougainvillea to climb up and cover the retaining wall, giving it a lush and natural look.   Terraced Planting: Create terraced levels with a retaining wall and plant shrubs, perennials, or small trees in each tier to add depth and dimension to the landscape.   Decorative Stones   The choice of stones can significantly impact the aesthetic appeal of the retaining wall:   Natural Stone Veneer: One can opt for natural stone veneer, such as slate, limestone, or sandstone, to give a retaining wall a timeless and organic appearance.   Textured Bricks: Textured bricks can add character to the wall while offering a classic and inviting look.   Contrasting Colors: Experiment with contrasting colors of stones to create patterns and designs that make the retaining wall a focal point of the landscape.   Lighting Effects   Properly placed lighting can transform the retaining wall into a captivating feature even at night:   Uplighting: Install lights at the base of the wall to illuminate its surface and cast dramatic shadows. Uplighting can accentuate the textures and contours of the stones.   Downlighting: Fix lights on nearby structures or trees to cast a gentle glow onto the retaining wall, creating a subtle, ambient effect.   Path Lighting: If the retaining wall borders a walkway or garden path, incorporate path lights into the design. This enhances safety and adds a charming element to the landscape.   Water Features   Consider adding water features, such as fountains or cascading waterfalls, to the retaining wall:   Waterfall Wall: Create a cascading waterfall that flows over the retaining wall, adding a soothing and captivating element to the landscape.   Fountain Wall: Install a decorative fountain into the retaining wall design. The sound of running water can create a peaceful atmosphere and mask background noise.   Seating and Gathering Spaces   Utilize the retaining wall as a seating or gathering area:   Built-in Benches: Incorporate built-in stone benches into the retaining wall. These can provide convenient seating for outdoor gatherings and create a cozy atmosphere.   Outdoor Fireplace: Consider adding an outdoor fireplace or fire pit into the retaining wall design to create a focal point for relaxation and entertainment.   Landscaping with retaining walls is not merely a functional necessity but an opportunity to enhance the aesthetics of the outdoor space. By incorporating plants, decorative stones, lighting, water features, and seating options, it is possible to create a captivating and inviting landscape that combines both form and function. These design elements can transform a simple retaining wall into a stunning focal point that adds value and beauty to the property. Whether the property owner is looking to revamp the existing retaining wall or planning a new landscaping project, it is better not to underestimate the power of creativity in elevating the outdoor space's appearance. For the best effect, the property owner needs to opt for proper lawn maintenance in Germantown and Silver Spring, MD.