#when the sky is the most saturated bright blue you could possibly imagine

[terranceholdsapencil]

Super quick shigaraki I drew today in celebration of season 7

[lesyasun]

A while ago I received an interesting question about game aesthetics. The person in that ask really struggles with downloading stuff and finding their own style. They asked me how I came up with what you see on my screenshots. Have you ever thought that you can recognize whose screenshot this is by just a quick glance? Is editing important in photoshop? How to take beautiful screenshots? Today let’s talk about how different one single game could be for each of us and what really makes this mysterious “sims aesthetics”.

EDIT: Sorry, it turned out to be huge with lots of random thoughts :D I hope at least one percent of these is useful!

NOTE: English is not my native language, I apologize for possible grammar or spelling mistakes. I tried my best in writing this!

Ok, let’s imagine that you’re a person who just obtained the sims game or just want a nice fresh start and demolished your download folder. (We all need fresh starts sometimes, right?) The struggle is that you have no idea which style you like the best. There are so many sims blogs. Everyone seems to enjoy what they post but you’re a little bit lost in that jungle. Don’t worry! I’ll try to guide you and share my thoughts.

STEP 1 Choose your general style

I roughly divide all sims blogs that I see on my dashboard into a couple of so-called styles. I’ve been doing it in my mind for ages. I like following different people and seeing diferent editing. None of them are better than others. I hope you understand that it’s just a matter of liking. Ok, here we go. Let me put this sorting hat on you :D

1. Realistic 

Screenshot by @luchiatores

Perhaps, it’s the most important thing that you should decide for yourself. Wether you should use realistic textures in your game or you’d prefer to stick to more cartoonish maxis match ones. Why is it so important, to my mind? I like things that match. Just imagine game Witcher 3 where characters and surroundings are realistic. And now imagine Minecraft where things are pixelated. Both games are great, both games have certain beautiful styles. And now imagine Geralt hunting for monsters in a pixelated Minecraft swamp. A bit strange, isn’t it? :D The same applies to Sims. If you put a super realistic skintone on your sim and put a Maxis ponytail, that would probably look strange too. If you choose this style, just try to dig for a good quality content, start following simblrs in this style. Unfortunately, I’m not an expert when it comes to realistic content. So, try to drop an ask to someone whose realistic game you like. There are so many helpful people around in the sims community no matter what style they have :)

2. Trully Maxis Match

screenshot by @whattheskell

This is a complete opposite of a realistic style. I’ve always called people who use a lot of original maxis textures “trully maxis” :D If you can decorate a house without any custom content, if you like the way original hairstyles look, if you like Maxis clothes, you should go this way. From what I’ve spot after being so many years in the sims community, “trully” maxis simblr are so creative when it comes to storytelling. The stories that they write about either their sims/or maxis premades are so breathtaking. So much drama, so much fun. The only thing that I write about my screenshots is “Ok, this is my cat! Look, it can eat flowers and puke afterwardst! Yay! Cute”. If you choose this way, I can recommend you to check out @holleyberry, @didilysims or @moocha-muses. Obviously there are a lot more blogs that I follow. These people are just so sweet and helpful and they’re first who came to my mind. 

3. Bright Maxis Matchery

screenshot by @muupi

This is where I refer myself to. This style is still Maxis but what stands out is the use of bright colours and saturated photoshopped pictures. Ah, my love for overedited pictures is endless <3 This is what I’m going to talk a lot below since it’s my cup of tea. It’s all about colours and pallete addiction. If you love looking at super bright/silly/cheery screenshots and they boost up your mood, than join the squad! 

Basically, Maxis match (I’ll just shorten for MM from now on) players avoid super shiny skins or hair textures and prefer to have content with Simlish letters instead of English ones. This is a very important factor for me when I choose paintings or prints for T-shirts. I don’t know, I feel like it’s so cute that sims can’t understand our languages, talk this funny gibberish simlish language. It’s cute! There are so so many people that I can recommend. @lina-cherie @keoni-chan @kahlenas They are first who came to my mind <3

4. Grungy/cosmic

screenshot by @lilithpleasant 

I don’t know if these are suitable words :D But this is how I describe people’s game who like aliens/supernatural sims/grungy textures with or without bright colours as well. Just think would you prefer a bit of a grungy stuff or less-textured but cleaner MM? You always need to think about textures while you download stuff. I can recommend to check out @pooklet or @furbyq-sims 

5. Semi

screenshot by @whysim 

You might ask me “Why am I not allowed to put a realistic skintone on a maxis sim? What the hell?” Of course, you are! Do it please, if you want. There are no rules, no restrictions. You CAN go semi-realistic, you CAN mix patterns, you CAN mix colours. There’s only one rule: please, enjoy what you do. Don’t be afraid to share your pictures on the Internet. There will always be people who can judje your style and say: “meh, it’s too dull, meh, it’s too bright, meh, too shiny, meh, too plain meh, meh, meh”. Just don’t pay attention and enjoy your game. As for semi-realistic I can recommend such wonderful people as @marvelann @lilith-sims @falkii @knowledgeaspiration 

A bit about my style: I’ve always loved cartoonish/bright style. I’ve never ever played with shiny textures. Before Tumblr era I just played either without CC or with a bunch of maxis recolours. How I came up with the idea of cartoonishness? Pretty simple. It’s a part of my personality, I think :) I’ve always loved Disney/Pixar movies. Cartoons just make life a lot funnier! They make me happy. I’m a pre-school teacher after all :D. You can’t imagine how many cartoons I’ve watched throughout my life. I can quote Peppa Pig and will never be tired of that :D Before Tumblr I just played some funny legacies (I’ve never finished any though :D) When I found out about Tumblr, and such great content that can make my game even more Disney looking, it just blew my mind! Every time when I download stuff, I imagine that I’m watching a Disney/Pixar or whatever studio cartoon. When I create sims, I feel like I’m a cartoon designer. Pretty silly, right? :D 

Let’s take a look at my screenshots from the past. I tried to find similar ones with a lot of greenery.

2014

2021

I stil like a lot of greenery. Editing has changed, photo angles have changed. But bright colours and Maxis stuff are forever in my heart <3

Risa (2014)

Gage (2021) 

As I’m a big cartoon addict, I love recreating game/anime/cartoon characters. No matter, if they’re my favourite or requested ones. I love when my sims have different traits. I love when they’re funny looking/clumsy/absent-minded or when they’re evil/supernatural. When they are pirates/detectives/vampires or witches. This is my way of playing Sims. I love this game as it gives us possibilities to show your creativity, a chance to recreate our favourite characters. A chance to be a writer of storylines or if you’re bad at telling stories, just being “a cartoon designer” like me :)

STEP 2 Colour palettes

If you’ve chosen the path of “bright maxis matchery” than colour palettes are super important! Oh, you can’t imagine how addicted I am to certain colours. I can download GBs because of it.

Here are some of my favourite colour palettes:

1. Anna’s colours

My absolutely favourite palette. I would download absolutely anything in these pretty colours. Just looking at them makes me so cozy *0* There’s a photoshop action for those who want to recolour CC in this palette.

2. Poppet’s colours

I especially like the latest one. So pretty! @poppet-sims is the queen of lovely recolours. She has some more palettes. But “Back to Basics is my favourite”

3. Eversims colours

@eversims has got a lot of pretty colour palettes. But the most iconic one is Ever So Lovely

So, these are the basic colours that I like downloading furniture/clothes with. 

There are a couple more pretty palettes that I like:

Huning’s Pony Colours

Back in the days it was my ultimate favourite one. But these days I edit my pictures in Photoshop excessively and prefer calmer colours and add bright layers in photoshop instead.

Nyren’s Kosmic Colours

If you’re more into pastels, than try to download some stuff in this pretty palette.

You might wonder if I use all of these colours. Of course not! I have a selection of colours that I use: apple green, sky blue, yellow, red, pink, orange, purple, teal, mint. I absolutely love combining 2 or 3 of these in my interior shots. I also love choosing my sims’ favourite colours and dressing them/decorating their bedroom in this certain colour(s).

For example, my sim Mia likes apple green/purple and mint.

I think @deedee-sims can relate. While I prefer choosing a favourite colour per sim, she chooses favourite colour for the whole family!

This is a great idea, I think! :)

STEP 4 Bodyshop stuff

Ok, I hope it’s clear that I’m colour palettes addicted, now let’s move onto actual custom content and what I prefer adding to my game. I decided to divide CC by sections. Let’s start with Bodyshop.

4.1 Skintones

Another important thing that you need to choose for yourself. There are tones ofoptions. I’m going to recommend only MM skins as obviously I have no idea which realistic or semi-realistic ones are high quality.

screenshot by @deedee-sims

If you prefer trully maxis skintones, I recommend you to try Leh’s skintones. It’s super close to original ones in terms of shades. Also look at those button noses! These cute noses is the reason why I started using this skin back in 2014. But later I switched to Lilith’s feather as I wanted more variety and those noses there got a lovely shine.

It was my default skin for a lot of years. These days I own every possible skintone by Lilith and various blends by other people.

Lilith’s Alien Flavor

Lilith’s Android Skin Edit

Lilith’s Apple Pie Skinblend v.2

Lilith’s Apple Pie Skinblend

Lilith’s Apple Pie by Kahlena

Lilith’s Feather Skinblend

Lilith’s Feather Skins 

Lilith’s Feather by Sim-Strangers

Lilith’s Feathers Colourful by Berrynooboos

Lilith’s Honey Supernatural Custom

Lilith’s Honey with freckles

Lilith’s Honey with no freckles

Lilith’s Honey Unnatural by Berrynooboos

Pixel-danger-sims pastel skins

Here’s a very handy set-up by Vimpse with Lilith’s skins being townified.

Try to choose one set of skins or download all of them by one certain creator. I need a lot of skins because I love creating tones of sims and I want to make them various looking.

4.2 Eyes

 ♦  Polaroid ♦ - my favourite

♦ Transcendental ♦

♦ Sleeping Lion ♦

♦  Sharp Eyes ♦

♦ Shallowed in the Sea ♦

♦ Hand Outs and Punch Ups ♦

These are just some of my eyes. There are some more by Poppet, by Kahlena. And I have various addons to these sets that I grabbed over and here. I remember having struggles of choosing only one set. But than I thought: why do I have to choose if I like all of them and want my sims to look as different as possible? I just love when they are cartoonish but high-quality with nice white clean sclera. Just look at Disney Rapunzel. You’ll see what I mean ^_^

There’s one little trick that most mm players do for making sims’ eyes bigger and rounder - adding a whiteline eyeliner by jesstheex. I personaly do it for every single sim of mine.

4.3 Makeup

I use tooooons of blushes, lipsticks and eyeshadows. I have everything by Lilith and Jesstheex. And lots of bits and bobs by various creators. I love using both matte or shiny textures. I sometimes add nose shine or use special nosemasks. There are various lovely things in my collection. What I can recommend you is to download a sim that you like by another creator with the help of Sims Clean Installer and just steal makeup from the sim to add to your collection *evil laughter* I recommend to do it because sometimes there are some mouth corners or various eyebags and etc which are difficult to find. It’s easier to grab them together with sims.

For example, I grabbed the shiny nosemasks from one of Lilith’s sims.

Sometimes I like adding a bit of shine on Sims’ noses. Some sims of mine don’t have shine. It really depends on a sim. But what I definitely like is cute button noses! I like using nosemasks to achieve that. I have all the masks by Lilith and these ones by kahlena.

4.4 Hair textures

Another important decision for you is the hair textures. I recommend you to choose one certain retexture. Back in the days, I used to have Remi’s textures

screenshot by @selenaq13 

I liked Remi’s ones because they were non-shiny. They had maxis colours and a really cool yellowish blonde! 

Receintly I switched to Simgarooped as I’ve always loved that there are 6 naturals. The yellowish blonde is still there! Plus my favourite Deedee-sims keeps updating every week with the retextures of new meshes <3

There are lots of various textures blends. Just search, download, play test. Think, if you’re ready to look at such type of hair hours of simming.

Also try to decide if you’d like to have more natural looking sims or go crazy and have supernatural/aliens. I used to have really bright sims with colourful skins and hairs.

Even my toddlers had unnatural hairs. It’s a lot of fun! But right now I prefer to create more natural looking sims though I like vampires/witches/aliens anyways!

screenshot by @honeylungsims 

If you would like to have colourful supernatural sims, check out Honeylung! She has the brightest and most unusual supernatural sims <3 

You’ll need a lot of face masks/bright lips/shadows. Check out @berrynooboos​ for the cutest alien CC.

4.5 Facial hair and Brows

I don’t think they should really match as long as they look great.

For example, I use eyebrows by @suratan-zir which are super cute and high quality but use Poppet’s textures instead of Simgarooped.

As for facial hair, I use some Poppet’s as well.

by Skoogy

by Poppet #1

by Poppet #2

by Simgaroop

4.6 Clothes

As I already mentioned, I love clothes in my favourite palettes. I love Simlish prints. There are so so many creators who share wonderful clothes.

I love @deedee-sims for age conversions, shoeswaps, morphs. I love @mdpthatsme for really cool 4t2 conversions. I love @moocha-muses for colourful T-shirts <3 Don’t be shy to send me a WCIF about a certain item of clothing.

STEP 5 Buy and Build

Tooons of bright recolours, IKEA items, Maxis add-ons, 3t2 and 4t2 conversions - all these things make my heart beat :D

These days I play in a rural-type world. I download a lot of craftsman-style build things, a lot of plants and garden deco.

I love bright wallpapers and greenhouses, I love clutter and kids CC for nurseries. Patterns with polka dots and plumbobs. Sunflowers and tulips. This is what I usually drop into my download folder :)

STEP 6 Taking screenshots

No matter which recolours and textures you prefer, I think high-quality pictures are important. The first thing that you need to playtest for yourself is a camera mod. It’s upo for you, but I can’t live without Gunmod’s Camera Mod. There are some more available, just check out.

Also lighting is important since Maxis original is terrible. I use Dreadpirate’s mod. 

I recommend to take screenshots in a camera man mode. Click Tab to enter it. Use W, A,S,D,E buttons to move right/left/up/down etc. And what’s important, use X and Z for zooming in and out. I always use Z for example, when I take close ups of my cats.

Don’t be afraid to experiment with angles. Try some artistic ones.

You can move your camera down and take a screen from below.

Or vice versa from above.

Sometimes I’ll just take a screen of my sims’ hands or feet. It really depends. I love spending hours on just “walking” in a camera mod around my sims houses.

Another useful feature of this mod is to use Ctrl +4,5,6,7,8,9 buttons.

These can fix the angles for you. And after fixing them, when you click on 4,5,6,7,8,9 you camera will go back to those positions. It’s very handy when you want to screen 2 sims who are talking and there’s no need to constatntly move camera from sidde to side. Just fix it and wait for them to perform cute emotions!

As a bonus, you can fic positions in the life mode too. For example, I always choose a proper angle from above where the wgole house can be seen. And wait for something cute/funny/to happen.

Also there’s such a thing as The Rule of Thirds. It’s the rule of photography composition. I always try to follow it :)

STEP 7 Photoshop Editing

I love oversaturated colours. It can be too much for someone’s eyes, but I like the brightness :) I’ll share some good Photoshop resources. Probably, one thing that I can recommend to absolutely everyone no matter how bright you want your screens to be is sharpening! Seems that Tumblr eats our picture quality for breakfast. Sims screenshots seem so blurry to me. I love sharpening them first.

I use sharpening from Kalekaloo’s action.

After sharpening I run the base from Eversims Action and then add some colour layers from Simburgerr’s one (I like gradients and fluffy lights layers especially). It makes the reds colours a little bit too saturated but I think it’s cute!

There are a some more cute actions and PSD files out there:

OhMySims - Action 1

OhMySims - Action 2

Sterina’s Action

Photoshop PSDs by Pleyita

Snapdragoned PSD

Mandragore PSD by Kiinuu

JellyBeanery’s Action

Roguebotanist

Nnilou - 12:51

A generic PSD by Knowledgeaspiration

Colorize IT by Bonnypixels

Colour Crush by Bonnypixels

Just Like Heaven by Pixeldemographics

For more tips/palettes/cute fonts I recommend you to check out @bepixeled

That’s all that came to my mind. I hope at least something was useful!

[beinmybonnet]

hmmm ok, joe/nicky "colour"

(classic seeing colour soulmates au BECAUSE ALL THE TROPES FEEL NEW WHEN YOU’VE GOT IMMORTALS)

- you see the world in black and white until the day you touch your soulmate. when they die, you lose the colour they brought to your life - 

*

“Oh, that’s beautiful.”

Nile comes up on Joe’s right shoulder, mug of tea cupped between her palms.

“Thank you.” He shuffles over so she can sit beside him on the bench, moving aside his paints. She’s studying his work intently.

“The shades here are perfect,” she tells him, eyes darting between the painting and the view before them, “it’s like the shadows are lifting off the canvas. What colours have you used?”

Joe’s smile is wide, and he flips his paintbrush to gesture with the end. “Here, whites and greys for the houses at the bottom of the hill. Here,” he points the handle higher, “yellows with pink, and then some red here, just as the sun rose.”

“So, that would be orange right here? Pale though?” she points at the right splash of colour and Joe turns, brow lifting in surprise. “Art History with a focus on colour differentials,” she says proudly. “My professor said I had the best monochromatic eye he’d ever seen.”

Joe promptly slides the paints across the bench and picks his spare canvas up off the grass. “Join me?”

“Really?” Nile grins, bright and eager as he hands her a brush. She hovers over the paints for a moment, chewing her lip between her teeth. Her eyes rove determinedly over the unlabelled paints and the sky, before she plucks up a purple pot. Joe has to resist the urge to wrap his arm round her shoulders.

Back when Joe had first leaned to draw, colour had meant nothing to him. He’d had chalks and charcoals as a child and had lost hours to sweeping strokes across paving stones. He’d learned to differentiate between subtle shadows and muted tones, blending new greys between his fingertips to smudge over his clothing.

Black, white and the thousand shades between them were comfortable and sure. Colour was just, unnecessary. As he grew, he was gifted graphite and dark inks and a roll of rough parchment was always tucked against his hip. He could recreate everything his eye could see and his mind could form with the two fundamentals in his hands. All his most treasured early memories remain this way; his mother’s shining ebony hair, the smoky shade of her skin. The bright white of his father’s teeth as he spun her around in front of their home.

But there’s still no denying that colour changed everything. Colour that had come into his world with all the subtlety of the man at its source. Suddenly his life had burst into bold tints and fierce hues; endless possibilities for him to explore with paints and oils and pastels. Nine hundred years to experiment with the vibrancy of the world around him.

He and Nile reach for the blue together and smile. 

*

Nicky’s got his eye pressed tight to his scope when everything fades.

He’s dialling left, settling his weight into his hips and then a curtain of heavy grey drops across his view. He rears back rubbing at his eyes, trying to force the colours back.

“Shit… just- Book, hold up!” Andy’s voice crackles out of the earpiece Nicky’s placed on the rooftop beside him. He scrambles to jam it back in.

“Andy-”

“Take the shot Nicky.” There’s shouting coming from below and Andy is swearing vehemently. “I’ve got him, just take the shot!”

He lurches back into position trying to clear his mind. It’s all wrong though, the shadows too dark and his depth perception is ruined -he’ll have to start all over. The dilution of his vision is making his heart thump erratically, and he has to count breaths in his head to keep himself still enough to reline up the shot.

Seconds later, the target steps out of the blackness and Nicky fires. The bullet cracks off the window frame, striking home at a cruel angle. He swears under his breath; it wasn’t clean, but he doesn’t care – the job’s done. He just needs to find Joe.

He takes the stairs at a speed that leaves his knees numb. At the extraction point, the van is already moving away as the door slides open. Nicky hurls his gear in and leaps after it. He gets the briefest glimpse of eyes too dark, and thick pewter stains across a torso before the door is slammed shut and he’s hauling Joe into his arms. They collide with a thump and Nicky quickly tucks his face against the grey skin of Joe’s neck with his eyes clenched shut. A hand burrows under the edge of his tactical gear until he feels the warmth at the small of his back.

Nicky pulls back to open his eyes and relief has him sagging further into the arms around him. Warm tawny skin shines against the dark khaki of Joe’s vest. He drags his mouth up the rich line of his throat, reluctant to break contact.

“Sorry.” Joe’s expression is chagrined when he lifts his head. “Got pinned down.”

There’s a smear of blood at the corner of Joe’s mouth, the newly crimson stain brash and mocking. Nicky rubs at it with a gloved thumb until the skin is clean and then presses his mouth gratefully to his favourite colour.

*

“A lilac ribbon in her hair. First colour I ever saw.”

The slight waver in his voice makes Nile wonder if she’s over-stepped again, if she’s put her foot in some unknown no-go zone and she opens her mouth to apologise. But Booker’s smiling, and that in itself is rare enough that Nile waits.

“It happened in a crowd. Must have been a hundred people in the square, easily…” his smile is widening. “God, it would have been so easy to have missed her. Soldiers were separating people, everyone was running and pushing and we just… brushed hands.”

Booker lifts his hand from his lap and turns it over slowly. “The back of her hand touched mine as she ran past. That was all.” He touches that spot, a glance of his finger. “I looked back, and her ribbon was lilac. But it was so busy, I lost sight of her in the rush.”

“But you found her again?” Nile has her head propped on her hands, trying not to sound too eager. Booker laughs gruffly.

“She found me. Came back for me.” He’s gripping his own hand tightly now, nails biting at the skin. “Lilac ribbon, hair like honey. Everything else came after that.”

“She sounds lovely.”

Booker looks up at her properly, and Nile’s acutely aware that whilst now they see the world in the same shades, it wasn’t always that way.

His voice is soft. “She was.”

*

Joe barely has time to shout before his world is plunged back into negatives, colour leaching from his vision. He’s scrambling, sliding in the pool of viscous grey he knows is blood as it spreads around Nicky’s skull.

He moves to cup Nicky’s face and can’t bear it. The sharp edge of his cheekbone throws dark shadows over his too pale face. Flecks and streaks of black over his skin; blood or dust or ash, Joe can’t tell anymore and the panic is rising in his throat. He can’t look at Nicky’s colourless eyes – he can’t- he’ll carry the sight with him too long.

He tears his head away, his own eyes clenched shut – but before he has time to pray, to plead, Nicky is gasping beneath him. The breath Joe releases is sticky and harsh, and he’s curling forward in his relief. Their hands collide quickly against each other’s forearms in an instinctive, accustomed clasp, and colours start seeping back immediately. The first to return are the shades of blue; bright aegean tones bursting in Nicky’s wide eyes, chased into existence by familiar notes of green. The weight lifts off Joe’s chest and for a moment he just breathes, air that tastes sweet and smooth as his other senses adjust to the disruption.

Then Nicky’s rolling. “Let’s go, Andy.”

*

They’re stood close enough to see the tremble in Andy’s arm as she reaches for Quynh’s face for the first time in over four hundred years.

Joe is frozen at his side, and Nicky’s breath is jammed somewhere in the base of his throat. He can’t believe this is actually happening.

Andy’s hand falters just shy of Quynh’s cheek with a ragged sound, fingers hovering. She opens her mouth to speak but Quynh reaches up and clamps the hand desperately to her face with her own. They shudder so violently Nicky wonders for a moment if the ground has physically quaked.

He knows the sensation well; that fierce swoop in the stomach. Like he’s stepped into free fall as the world saturates around him at Joe’s first touch. When they can reach each other quickly after a death, colour comes back in slow, precious increments; the shining browns of Joe’s eyes, or the dusky pink that rises in the shell of his ear. The longest they’ve gone after a death was four days. Four days in an east Indian jungle trapped in wet, translucent tones of black and white, the frustration building until he’d screamed at the sky. When he’d finally gotten his hands on Joe, grasping desperately at his bared shoulders, colour returning was an immediate detonation that had left his whole body throbbing for hours.

Nicky can’t even begin to imagine what Andy and Quynh feel in this moment.

They go down as one, limbs folding together as they collapse into the dirt. Clutching at each other as their worlds transform. Quynh has Andy’s face trapped between her own palms now and is sobbing, laughing, trying to pull her closer. Andy’s tears are silent, but steady. Her eyes flitting over Quynh’s face in awe while she runs trembling fingertips over rosy cheeks she can see.

Joe is squeezing his hand so tightly his fingers have gone numb, but the rush of joy in Nicky’s chest is golden and fierce. To stop himself moving forwards to pull Quynh into his own arms, he steps behind Joe and tugs him back, arms looping firmly around his middle.

“See? We are meant to find each other,” he whispers. Joe chuckles wetly against him.

On the ground, Quynh is smiling through her tears. “You’re beautiful Andromache,”

Andy hums hoarsely and runs her hands over Quynh’s arms, coming up to cradle her collar through the thick fabric of her coat. Her fingers rub at the material and Nicky knows the scarlet shade must be iridescent to her eyes. Andy lifts a thumb to Quynh’s lower lip.

“Red always was your colour.”

                                                        

*

adriana i’m so sorry this took so long. i physically couldn’t stop it getting longer and longer and then i got really stuck and it was a whole mess. 

[darkblueboxs]

Shades of Sunset

Twenty years in the life of Andrew Minyard

Read here or on AO3 (check ao3 for content warnings)

*

Andrew is five years old, and he thinks orange is the most beautiful colour in the world.

It’s the colour of his favourite popsicle flavour, or what he’s sure would be his favourite popsicle flavour if Mrs Dunnard ever bought them popsicles. Instead, she buys the same tasteless frozen meals over and over again, oven fries or chicken nuggets or potato smileys. Andrew lets the smileys turn to mush as he fights the other foster kids for elbow room at the kitchen table, but he doesn’t smile back at the wobbly potato faces. He clears his plate all the same, because the kids who don’t get smacked.

He presses his face up against the glass in the freezer aisle and imagines the taste of sunset on his tongue.

Andrew is seven years old, and the upstairs neighbours have a ginger tabby cat. It winds around his ankles when he’s hiding in the backyard, a bright beacon amongst the dirt and scrub of the cracked earth, and Andrew can’t help but reach for it like a moth drawn in by candlelight. For a single, fragile moment, Andrew’s trembling fingers meet something warm and soft, softer than Andrew can ever remember feeling. Then the cat twists around and sinks its claws into Andrew’s arm.

Andrew clutches his forearm to his chest, watching as beads of red well up and glisten before dribbling down towards his fingertips. It’s a new kind of pain, stinging, sharper than the bruises he has grown accustomed to, but he doesn’t cry. Crying never made it stop. The next time the tabby comes near him, Andrew throws rocks until it bolts for cover with a hiss. He watches as it scrambles over the peeling fenceposts and out of sight, wishing he could follow it into the wilderness.

 Andrew is twelve years old, and when Cass sees him staring at the creamy-yellow wallpaper of what will soon be his own bedroom, she asks what his favourite colour is. Andrew tries to remember the last time someone asked, the last time someone cared, and for once his perfect memory draws an absolute blank.

“Orange,” he whispers, and Cass lights up. Together, they coat the walls with marigold paint, and when Andrew spills it down his front, Cass just laughs. His room is so bright that it almost glows, painting Cass in warm, saturated hues as they sit side-by-side, puzzling through Andrew’s homework until the rattle of keys in the front door alerts them to the rest of the household’s return. The sunbeam colours of day paint his world into a hazy mirage of safety, and for that Andrew suffers the blood-orange nights that follow. Soon, however, the light and dark bleed into each other like watercolour paints, and Andrew decides that if he cannot have one without the other, then it is safest to want nothing at all.

 Andrew is fourteen years old, and he is sick to death of orange. The juvie uniform is offensively orange, as though trying to burn the observer’s eyes out, as stark a warning as possible: approach with caution. Andrew pulls the starchy, cheap cotton over his head, and it feels as though he has worn nothing else all his life. He lets himself tumble into the faceless sea of uniform faces, not caring where the tides will take him.

 Andrew is eighteen years old, and he wishes he could be surprised when Dan pushes the fox fur-orange windbreaker into his arms, but under the ebb and flow of drug-induced mania there is truly no feeling at all. Of course the universe would continue to taunt him with too-bright uniforms that cling to him like wet sand, scratching at his lungs as he breathes around a sewn-up smile. Minyard, it says in white lettering, as though the neat stitching can tie him into this ludicrous new life with the power of a name that barely feels like his own. If their coach thinks that putting them all in one horrendous colour will magic them into a team, he has another thing coming. Uniform does not mean unity, and Andrew stands in the goal and watches distant sunburnt figures grapple and tumble across the court, stick loose in his hand. When the ball shoots past him, he doesn’t even flinch.

They can tell him what it means to wear these colours and stand on this court until the cows come home; Andrew doesn’t care. Nothing gets under his skin anymore.

 Andrew is nineteen years old, sitting in the plastic stadium seats and watching as their newest recruit races across the court. He’s a blur of orange and white, quicker than a fox and twice as sly, and Andrew doesn’t trust him an inch. He may have grown accustomed to passing his days engulfed in the campus colours that scream school pride from every street corner, but Neil makes the colour new all over again. Off the court, he hides himself in washed-out blues and greys, shrinking into his oversized hoodies as though hoping to be swallowed by them. On the court, however, there is no hiding, nor any inclination to. Neil stands on the court like he was born to rule it, throwing himself into the game with the kind of whole-hearted determination Andrew believed only Kevin was brain-dead enough to be capable of. Off the court, Neil treats the Foxes’ luminescent oranges like he would a target painted on his back. Here, he wears them like a shield.

He suits them.

Andrew doesn’t know what to make of their newest recruit, not yet. But he will.

 Andrew is twenty years old, and something has gotten under his skin. The pipe dream in the shape of a man stares at him across the Easthaven hospital waiting room through unmasked, ice-blue eyes. Back at the dorms, Andrew takes him up on the roof, peels back the plaster to see the fresh tattoo bruising his cheek. Not if it means losing you¸ he says, and Andrew resists the urge to throw him off the roof then and there. His hair is a single drop of colour against the grey sky above, deep auburn like campfire embers. Andrew didn’t think Neil could have been any more of a danger until he returned from the nest beaten within an inch of his life, the new colours streaking through his hair like a warning, threat, threat, threat.

Andrew looks at Neil, and puts a name to the burn of sensation flickering in his gut.

Andrew hates Neil, hates how softly he looks at him, hates the molten want that Neil pulls effortlessly through his veins. Above all, he hates the deep orange tint that now flits in and out of his periphery like the wings of a monarch butterfly as Neil buries himself into Andrew’s chest and fills his lungs with smoke. In the dead of night, Andrew imagines how soft Neil’s tousled curls would feel between his fingers, and wants, wants, wants for something he cannot let himself have. He remembers the sting of claws raking across his forearms all too well, knows where the path of wanting will take him if he isn’t careful.

Andrew hates orange, and hates Neil for making him feel anything about it at all. But he knows how to protect himself, knows how to keep himself back from the cliff-edge of feeling that nearly killed him once already. He won’t fall again.

 Andrew is twenty years old, and Neil’s lips taste like sunset.

 Andrew is twenty years old, and Andrew is falling. He laps the stadium once, twice, the dispersing rioters and flashing police cars blurring into a black jumble of sound and movement, but it doesn’t matter, none of it matters, because he can’t find Neil, and he had forgotten, forgotten how it felt to fall, to fear, was this fear, was this-

He almost misses the racquet lying battered and forgotten amidst empty soda cans and discarded ticket stubs. He picks it up as though he’s never seen one before, and even though the team colours have been scuffed and dirtied in the fight, it’s still the unmistakable Fox orange peeling between his fingers, white strings torn and unravelling. He picks up Neil’s bag, thumbs through his phone, and parts of him unravel too.

Andrew finds his way back to the team bus, takes one look at Kevin’s expression – broken, wild, and filled with a grief that couldn’t be explained by anything other than-

Andrew sees red.

 Andrew is twenty years old, and for the last twelve hours his world has been nothing but shades of grey shot through by occasional bursts of uncontrollable wildfire-red. Dragging Wymack along behind him like a ball and chain, he sees the men standing outside the motel room, and the final thread of his control pulls and snaps as he shoulders his way inside, not caring if he breaks a wrist in his desperation, and then-

White plaster. Blue eyes. Auburn curls.

Safe.

 Andrew is twenty-three years old, and his vision is swamped in sparkling bursts of confetti, a glittering shower of oranges and whites that tumble from the rafters like autumn leaves. The crowd is on their feet and screaming enough to shake the court’s foundations as the final score to end the season glows overhead. Neil collapses at the sound of the buzzer, striped orange bandana holding his auburn curls back from his face. They glow like embers in the stadium lights, which backlight his head like a halo. He turns to Andrew and smiles.

Andrew decides that orange isn’t so bad after all.

 Andrew is twenty-five years old, against all odds. His team’s uniform is green. Their team, as soon as Neil’s transfer paperwork goes through. Andrew won’t miss orange, much, but he will miss seeing Neil in it.

Or perhaps not. A blur of colour glides past his periphery, and Andrew pushes himself up in bed to watch as Neil pulls a jumper Andrew has never seen before over his head. He catches Andrew looking, and his lips quirk upwards.

“You like it?”

“No.” It’s something chunky and hand-knitted, perhaps a gift from one of the Foxes, and it hangs so long on Neil that the hems of his boxers barely peak past the bottom. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Neil glances down at his bare legs, then back up, smirking. “I don’t know, am I?” He rolls back onto the bed, which strikes Andrew as counterproductive to getting dressed, but he has no interest in complaining when Neil climbs into his lap, thighs pressing into him on either side. Andrew runs a hand along Neil’s leg against the grain of his hair, slow, pensive. His fingers soon collide with soft amber wool. Neil tilts his head teasingly to one side. “I thought orange was your favourite colour.”

Andrew tangles his fingers in the collar and uses it to tug Neil in against him. “I hate it,” he murmurs into Neil’s ear, and follows it with a brief press of his lips to the one point below Neil’s earlobe that always makes him shudder.

“Like you hate me?”

“Yes,” Andrew says.

When Neil’s lips meet his, they taste like sunset.

Andrew is twenty-five years old, and he thinks orange is the most beautiful colour in the world.

*

Thanks for reading!

[the-werdna]

Title: Robcina Week Day 3 - Free Day

Description: Just another day after school. No new incidents in the outrealms. No upcoming exams. Perhaps the perfect day to spend some time with Lucina. She had mentioned something about wanting to go shopping. What was the worst that could happen?

Notes: Once again we delve into my Awakening Persona AU, because no one can stop me! Takes place prior to Chapters 41, 47, and 61 of Love Across Time, which are likewise set in this AU

Words: 2099

A shrill bell chimed, announcing the end of the school day.

Robin quickly scratched down the last few characters he'd been copying from the board into his notebook before standing. The notebook, his pens, pencils, and other school supplies were swiftly shunted into his open backpack a moment later. That settled, he stepped out into the hallways, blinking against the afternoon light streaming through the windows of the hallway,

Right, now I just need to decide how to spend the rest of the day, Robin thought to himself.

He had several options after all. Since it was a Tuesday, the sports club wouldn't be meeting, so that wasn't an option. He did still have the writing club he could attend or perhaps one of his part time jobs he could always attend. Studying in the library was always an option, though by this point he wasn't sure it could offer much improvement anymore, having scored top of his class the past two exams.

Perhaps now would be a good time to work on one of my "social links", Robin pondered. He sighed. He really did hate that term, at least when referring to time he spent with the many friends he'd made since coming to the town. The way Igor referred to them, as if they were simply a means as a wild card user to empower his Personas… it felt too clinical to him. Too impersonal.

That said, since Kendo club won't be meeting today either, Lucina should be free, Robin realized. She did mention something about wanting my help picking some stuff out next time she went shopping.

Making up his mind, Robin made for the front door, swapping out his school shoes for his usual pair before heading outside. Looping around to the back of the school, he found Lucina right where he expected her to be, seated on one of the benches that overlooked the plot of land maintained by the gardening club. Though not a member of the club herself, he knew that Lucina still enjoyed the peaceful spot near the flowers. Though summer was almost over and soon the garden would be empty. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd still come to the spot then.

Lucina didn't notice him at first, her gaze on the butterflies fluttering between the flowers. Only when he was a few steps away did she look up, turning to him. "Oh… Hello, Robin" Lucina greeted, standing.

"I was wondering if you would be free to hang out?" Robin asked.

"Oh, yes, of course. Actually, I was thinking of stopping by a store on my way home. Would you like to come? Of course, only if you are interested."

"Lucina has asked to spend time with you…"

"Since you have Lachesis, a Persona of the Fortune Arcana, you feel you could be closer…"

"Will you spend the afternoon with Lucina?"

"I'd be happy to. You did mention you wanted my input on some things, right?" Robin asked.

Lucina looked happy at this, nodding fiercely. "Yes, of course! Come, let us hurry then before they close!"

. . . . .

Making their way to the clothing store, the two quickly set about browsing through the racks, Robin letting Lucina take the lead.

"What do you think about these," Lucina asked, producing a skirt and blouse she'd picked.

"Well it's… certainly very you, Lucina," he said, trying to speak as politely as he could.

In truth even a fashion novice such as himself could tell the two pieces didn't remotely go together. The blouse, yellow with red polka dots, and the skirt, green and purple stripes, clashed immensely. Nor was it helped that both were possibly the brightest and most saturated pieces of clothing in the entire store, so much that they practically glowed.

"Hmmm, I suppose. Though perhaps…" setting the outfit aside, Lucina reached for another shirt. Then a jacket, and then a set of pants. "What about these?"

The pants were bright orange. The shirt was lime green with pink flowers. And the jacket was sky blue with neon yellow stripes down the arms. It honestly wasn't much better.

Robin opened his mouth to try and tell her the truth, only to stop as his gaze fell on Lucina's face. She was smiling brightly, looking happier than he'd ever seen her. Her eyes sparkled with radiant joy, her smile one of almost childlike glee. In that moment Robin knew he couldn't be the one to take that away from her.

"I think it's perfect," he told her. Somehow he even meant it, as even as he imagined her in his mind's eye wearing the garish ensemble it somehow looked great on her.

"Thank you! I'm so glad," Lucina told him, draping the clothes over an arm. "To tell the truth, I haven't been shopping for clothes like this since I was little. My mother used to take me all the time back then…" There was a brief moment where her smile faltered at the mention of her mother, but it quickly recovered. So complete was her happiness in that moment, even that memory couldn't steal it from her.

Returning the first outfit to the rack, Lucina stepped back, again looking at the clothes she picked out. "I wonder if I can find anything else that will go well with this? No, it's fine on its own. I just know it will look great with what I already own," she touched the red and blue striped scarf she alway wore. "So shall we go to the register then? There is still time before I must run off to work, and I'd like to go check one more place before-"

Lucina stopped at the sound of harsh laughter coming from nearby. There, several racks over were three girls Robin recognized from school though he did not know their names. Though he thought they were third years like Lucina.

One of the girls shielded her mouth behind her hand, whispering something to the girls. While he couldn't make out what was said, the smug way she regarded Lucina and the outfit held in her hands made it plain enough exactly what was the subject of her scorn. Snickering giggles from the other girls soon followed, taking shared amusement at whatever remark had been made at Lucina's expense.

At once Lucina's eyes seemed to glaze over slightly, growing distant as she returned the clothes to the rack. While her expression remained stoic, Robin could tell just how saddened she was.

Anger flashing, Robin turned, starting towards the girls, fully prepared to give them a piece of his mind. However before he could move more than a couple steps he was stopped by Lucina, blocking him with an outstretched hand.

"It's alright, Robin. They're not worth your time," Lucina assured him. While he caught a brief flash of appreciation in her eyes, evidently touched that he'd so quickly jump to her defense, the sadness in her voice remained.

Robin turned and watched as the girls departed the store, leaving the two of them alone.

"Why did you stop me? Their behavior was uncalled for," Robin asked.

"It's nothing I am not used to," Lucina told him solemnly. "As long as I can remember, I have often been a source of mockery among my peers. On account of how ill-adept I am when it comes to more… feminine interests, such as these. As well as my other oddities..."

Robin knew exactly what she was referring to. Lucina's mother had died of illness when she was very little, and with her father's time so often occupied with work, it had fallen to Lucina to take over much of the raising of her younger sister. Combine that with working several part time jobs to supplement their family's income taking what was left of her time, Lucina simply hadn't had time to live a normal childhood and be like other girls her age.

She looked back at the abandoned outfit and sighed. "To be entirely honest, I had hoped this would be an opportunity to learn, but I suppose it was not to be…"

Reaching out, Robin picked up the clothes from the rack, handing them back to her. When she looked at him in surprise, Robin explained, "the Lucina i know would never give up so easily. No matter what others may say."

"Robin..." Lucina trailed off, hesitantly accepting the clothes from him. Briefly their hands touched, and both of them pulled away at the contact, blushing.

"Erm, right…" Lucina turned away quickly, trying to hide her reaction. "I thank you for your kind words. Truly." She glanced back up and him sheepishly, before quickly looking down at her feet, embarrassed….

"You feel your relationship with Lucina has grown deeper…"

"The Lucina Social Link has reached level 6!"

"Your power to Create Personas of the Fortune Arcana has grown!"

"Lucina's growth of heart has affected her Persona as well…"

"Sigurd learned Light Amp!"

"Still…" Lucina at last managed to look up, glancing between him and the mismatched outfit. "Are you certain this won't seem odd for me to wear?"

Robin considered this question for a long moment. At first he considered telling her it would likely draw mockery from people like those girls, but he quickly shoved that thought aside. He remembered how happy Lucina looked before and so he made up his mind. "It doesn't matter if others think it does or not. I just know you'll look beautiful in anything you pick out."

Lucina spun back to face him, her face turning an even brighter shade of pink at his remark. "I… uh…" she stammered staring at him.

At once Robin cursed himself. Why had he said that last part? Stupid, stupid, stupid. It had just slipped out. He hadn't-

No, he told himself. That was a lie. He'd meant it, even if he hadn't intended to say it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" Robin tried to say. Liar. You meant it.

"N-No, it's quite alright. Lucina glanced up at the clock on the wall of the store, seeing the time.

"I'm sorry Robin, but I need to go. My shift starts soon," she excused herself, referring to one of her night jobs as a waitress. "I'll go check out. There is no need to wait around for me"

Not even waiting for a reply, Lucina started towards the register, only to then stop, looking back. "Oh, and Robin?" she asked, her words halting and awkward. "What you said means a lot, truly. So, thank you." She bowed her head and then hurried away.

Robin watched on for a moment, then departed the store, feeling thoroughly foolish and embarrassed by what he'd said. He decided to head home for the evening.

. . . . .

Laying down on the couch in his room, Robin flipped the page through the book he was reading. At the rate he was going, he likely wouldn't finish it that evening. It will take one more night still, he thought.

He sighed, letting the open book fall over his face, covering it. He still couldn't stop thinking about earlier… about what he'd said.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he scolded himself. Even if he'd been telling the truth, some things were better left unsaid. Even though Lucina had tried to brush it off, he was certain there would now be some new uneasiness between them. How could it not? He was living in the same house as her, and her father was his guardian for the year. Revealing how he felt, even so indirectly, could only make things more awkward…

His phone vibrated once, buzzing on the coffee-table. Lifting the book from his face, he glanced over, seeing the blinking light indicating a new message. He reached for it, then hesitated. Working up all of his considerable courage, he snatched it up and swiped the screen.

It was a message from Lucina.

"ROBIN. THANK YOU FOR SPENDING TIME WITH ME TODAY. I WOULD LOVE TO DO IT AGAIN WHEN NEXT YOU HAVE TIME."

Robin starred, rereading the message again and again, certain he'd understood it incorrectly.

She… wants to spend more time with me?! Even after I… He shook his head, unable to comprehend what was going on. Could she possibly feel like- No, that would be silly. She just wants to keep spending time as friends? Right? That's it. Unless- No, stop! Bad Robin!

Robin groaned, tossing his phone aside and again hiding his face in the book. Dammnit, this just makes things even more confusing...

He decided to stop reading and go to bed for the night.

[dinfeanoriel]

The Hand

A little fic that has absolutely no point to it. Enjoy!

~~~~

“Don’t tell me this place is seriously called the Crack Pot Inn…” The Knight of the rag-tag group of Heroes, Warrior, muttered aloud when his gaze landed on the most-welcome, if somewhat run-down, inn. The Links had warped into another world and were now working to uncover whose Hyrule they had entered. 

So far, no luck. 

But seeing as it was late into the night, Time had decided it was time to retire. It was by a meager stroke of luck Wolfie had sniffed out a village. 

“Clearly not the only thing on crack,” Came Legend’s quick-witted reply. 

Wild smothered a snort. The snarky Hero was filled to the brim with sarcastic retorts and barbed jabs. He never failed to use them, either. They were quick to fly from his tongue, taking, perhaps, .1 seconds to fire. 

They came faster than Wild could unleash a flurry of attacks, and that, he found impressive. 

“Boys, behave,” The leader of the nine murmured, his low voice carrying into the night. 

“Sure thing, Pops,” 

Wolfie huffed. Wind figured it was a laugh in disguise. They followed after Time as he began the descent into the village located at the bottom of the hill. Their eyes took in everything of the quiet and slumbering place...

The worn buildings, cobblestone roads, dark alleyways, and bright colors. 

Incredibly bright colors. Curtains were a shade of pinks, purples, blues, and oranges Hyrule had never before seen and wondered how anyone could find attractive. The paint job was something that made even Wild cringe. 

Some houses had polka dots, others multi-colored stripes, and some littered with swirls and optical illusions. The patterns were horrendous. He looked long and hard for any potion shops and places to restock. It was a difficult feat, since the abhorrent color combinations were making his eyes hurt. 

“The Batty Emporium?” Wind’s soft, incredulous, voice pierced the silence that had fallen. 

Legend looked vaguely impressed. 

“This place just keeps getting better.” 

Time quirked an eyebrow at the...questionable village and its peculiar taste in style. The sheer lavishness and overabundance of decoration… 

“In all my long life and journeys, I have never stumbled across such a remarkably horrendous sight…” He remarked mostly to himself. All of the Links heard him and couldn’t agree more. 

You’re telling me… Twilight groused in wolf form. And he’d thought Fyer and Falbi were...unique individuals…

That was putting it lightly. 

There were streamers tied pole-to-pole. Straight across, zig-zag, diagonal or in some other unusual unrecognizable design. Elaborate and exaggerated posters decorated windows, market stalls, and doors. The stalls themselves were bright and sparkly. A never-ending stream of cringeworthy sights for the Links to abhor. 

Then came the game, commenced by Wild and continued by the rest. Find the most outrageous, individualistic, and… unique… business. 

“The Nutty Almond,” The Hero of the Wilds pointed at the sign hanging from above the door of the nearest building. 

Sky hid a grin. Of course Wild spotted The Nutty Almond first. 

“The Berserker,” Wind piped in next, gesturing to an armory they passed. The weapons on display glinted in the moonlight, drawing everyone’s attention for a brief moment. 

“Clever,” Warrior deadpanned, though he made note of its location. 

“Daffy’s Wud?” Hyrule’s brow creased at the strange name. The place itself was tall and lean, as if someone had taken the building and crammed it between two others. It was a pale purple with fluorescent pink and blotches of orange, green, and yellow mingled in. 

All and all, a discomfiting sight to see. Legend couldn’t help but release a short bark of laughter.

Sky looked around with a pained and disturbed expression. This place was far too happy-go-lucky for his tastes. He preferred the wilderness over this! 

“This whole place is mad!” The words slipped from him before Sky could stop himself and the Links turned to him in surprise. Sky’s cheeks burned a brilliant shade of red and he hid his face behind his hands, “Sorry, sorry, it just came out!” He apologized, flustered and mortified. 

Four chuckled with a shake of his head, patting Sky’s back sympathetically. The older teen peeked down at him between fingers. 

“We were all thinking it anyway, Sky,” He assured the kindhearted Hero, “No need to be embarrassed for stating the truth.” 

Hyrule shuddered, loosely hugging himself. 

“Well, I don’t like it,” He admitted in a soft whisper, “It weirds me out.” 

“It weirds us all out,” Warrior muttered, lips curling back in disgust when he saw another intricately designed and flamboyant painting hanging in a display window, “Hylia’s sake...I never imagined such a place even existed.” 

“These bright, flashy, colors make my eyes hurt,” Wind complained, rubbing at his aching eyes. 

“Oh, good!” Wild breathed a sigh of relief, “I’m not the only one!” Although it was night, Wild still found himself squinting against the onslaught of flashy, neon, colors. The moonlight reflecting off the bright colors and sparkling stalls did nothing but blind them. 

Did they have to use glow-in-the-dark paint? Not to mention the optical illusions were a little over the top and giving him a pounding headache. 

“Can you imagine how it must look when its sunny?” Hyrule questioned, wincing at the thought. 

Legend’s face screwed up, 

“You’re going to make me sick.”

“I already am…” 

“Yeah, you definitely aren’t looking too good there, Sky,” Warrior gently gripped Sky’s arm when the teen started turning green, “Let’s hurry on up to that inn there.” 

“We’re staying there?” Legend didn’t possibly think this night could get any worse. 

Time turned to the incredulous Hero with a raised eyebrow, “Do you have any better ideas?” 

Wind timidly raised a hand, “We camp in the woods?” 

None could deny the hopefulness in his tone. It was preferable. None of the Links would object, all more than willing to choose the cold, ominous, woods over this...fascinating place. 

Four flicked his wrist, pointing to Wind and helpfully supplied, “It’s free of charge.” 

“Even Warrior has better taste than this,” Legend declared with certainty. Said offended Knight snapped his head in Legend’s direction, indignantly crying, 

“Hey!” 

Time rolled his good eye, the corner of his lips twitching upwards minutely. Already, he could sense the coming storm, 

“What?” Legend bent his arms at the elbow, palms up, “You have to admit, the scarf-” 

“Oh, and a skirt’s so much better than my scarf?” Warrior snarked back, “At least it covers up more than yours does.” He tugged at his scarf meaningfully. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” 

Four turned to disguise his mirth as a cough. His shoulders shook as he vainly attempted to recompose himself. Hyrule laughed to himself, Wild snickered, and Wind tried his hardest not to giggle.

“Boys,” Time warned, but the laughter in his voice ruined the effect. Truly, never a dull moment. Not one day passed them by without some sort of entertainment. “Lower your voices,” At the least. 

Legend obeyed the leader, lowering his voice threateningly, 

“I will kill you, Warrior,” He promised, eyes glinting sharply. 

Warrior smirked, nonchalantly tossing an arm over Legend’s shoulder, “Sure you will.”  Legend bared his teeth, fists clenched, “You’d better sleep with one eye open tonight, Pretty Boy,” 

Time shook his head in fond exasperation, mentally noting not to assign the two Heroes to the same room. He paused before the door to the inn, extending a hand to rest it atop the illustrious handle. He turned to fix the Heroes with a stern, pointed, look before carefully pushing the door open. 

The Links could only hope the inside was better looking than the outside...

The tallest of the group had barely taken a step when a shrill screech squealed from above. Time’s head snapped up and his vision went black as a weight slammed atop his head and water soaked him to the bone. 

Behind him, he heard Sky yelp followed by a thump. 

Wolfie was immediately on guard, crouching low to the ground with a fearsome snarl that ricocheted through the air, enveloping the entirety of the room. 

Warrior’s hand instinctively snatched his sword, slipping it halfway out of its sheath ready to jump to Time’s protection. His fierce and focused expression slowly faded, morphing into one of pure bafflement as he and the others took the time to process what exactly had taken place. 

Time stood in the middle of the doorway, a metal bucket covering his head, and fingers loosely curled round the handle. Water saturated his hair, dripping from the ends and onto the wooden planks below. Rivulets raced through the patterns of his golden armor, creating a multitude of puddles on the floor. 

Legend blinked owlishly. 

He slowly raised a finger, 

“Did you- did we…” He shook his head, “Did we just get pranked?” 

Time serenely shut his good eye, expelling a steady breath before reaching up to lift the bucket off his head. He looked to find a string attached to it and at the end of it, a rubber cucco with bulging eyes and a gaping yellow beak. 

He tugged it off with an unappreciative frown. His good eye slid down to where Wolfie was still baring his teeth and rumbling deep in his chest. He tossed the rubber cucco, letting it bounce off Wolfie’s snout then onto the floor. Wolfie’s snarl shuddered and broke off in surprise and he raised cobalt blues swimming with betrayal up to meet Time’s faintly amused one. 

With a disgruntled rumble, Wolfie lifted a paw and rubbed at his snout indignantly. 

“Ooooh hoo hoo!” A sudden burst of overly amused, entirely-too-enthusiastic laughter exploded somewhere ahead of them and the Heroes jumped slightly at the unexpected sound. A short, stocky, man dressed in the most bizarre outfit possible stepped into the lamplight, clapping his hands loudly together. His green eyes were wide, brimming with unshed tears, and his face lit up with delight, “I have been waiting for this moment! I had that set up since evening!” 

Time leveled the obnoxiously red-haired man with a cool stare- one Warrior, Legend, and Wild recognized and still shirked from. For once, however, it wasn’t directed towards them. 

The man was hardly affected, “You must admit-” He swiped at a tear, beaming brilliantly, “That was plenty good!”  “Indeed,” A tight-lipped smile curved Time’s lips and his single eye became a pool of promises for retribution he would be unable to attain. The Older Hero was only becoming increasingly unsettled the longer they lingered in this abominable place. 

The man slapped his knee, still guffawing at Time’s misfortune, and Wolfie growled in warning. This caused the innkeeper to pause, appraise the proud, displeased, beast and frown. 

“Ah, I must apologize,” He jovially began with an air of faux-politeness, gesturing to Wolfie airily, he said, “Dogs are not allowed in the inn.” 

DOG?!

A scandalized yip escaped Wolfie and Sky lunged when the wolf made to show the innkeeper exactly what this ‘dog’ was capable of.  “Hey there, now, Wolfie,” Sky strained, arms wrapped around Wolfie’s strong neck and anchoring him into place. Time merely watched the scene unfold, heaving a tired sigh. It had most certainly been a long week. Not the longest, but a long one for certain. 

Everyone was at their wit’s end and exhausted. 

“That dog is a wolf, good sir,” Warrior calmly but firmly inserted, stepping up to Time’s side. The innkeeper looked to him and Warrior fought to steel himself from cringing. The man’s outfit was utterly outrageous. His incredibly yellow pants ballooned near the ankles and his sleeves billowed atrociously around the wrists. There were colorful polka dots littering his...suit? Warrior was unsure whether or not this peculiar outfit had a name. The buttons on the shirt were much too large and oddly shaped to be normal. And the high collar? 

He’d thought Agitha and Ravio were eccentric, but this was by far the worst Warrior had ever seen. 

“He is well-trained and my good friend’s loyal companion,” The Knight indicated to a strained Wild. 

The innkeeper raised a bushy eyebrow at the grumbling canine still held by Sky. The wolf reluctantly settled back on his haunches, but he still looked ready to tear everything to pieces. 

“Well-trained, hm?” There was a hint of a challenge in his tone. It was evident he didn’t believe them. 

Wild nodded vigorously from where he stood beside Warrior, 

“He is! Watch-” To which the mischievous Hero spun on his heel and proceeded to order, “Down boy!” 

If looks could kill, the one Wolfie seared Wild with would most definitely have incinerated him on the spot. 

Twilight would make him pay for it later, but Wild figured it would be worth it. 

With much grousing and griping, Wolfie made a show of reluctantly lowering himself onto the ground. He shifted until he was comfortable then cracked an eye open to pierce Wild unhappily, 

“Roll over!” 

Wolfie’s eye grew wide and he barked sharply in refusal. 

Wild sternly placed his hands on his hips and tapped his foot once,  “Roll over, Wolfie.” 

Wolfie did. 

“Yay, Wolfie!” Wind lunged and tackled the great beast with a hug, “You’re amazing!” Peals of pure, jubilant, laughter filled the air as Wind turned sparkling eyes at the innkeeper, “Isn’t he?” 

The tone the youthful boy used was carefully constructed, almost daring the innkeeper to say otherwise. All in all, rather frightening to hear. Legend was, to say the least, impressed. 

Wolfie’s previously irate demeanor deflated almost instantaneously at the Sailor’s bubbly self and he nudged Wind’s cheek with his nose. 

Children would always be his weakness, he supposed. 

The flamboyant innkeeper only shrugged, voice chipper and gratingly cheerful,  “So long as he doesn’t cause any trouble, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to allow him to accompany you.” 

“We thank you for your trouble,” Warrior graciously intervened before anyone else could, “After all, it is the least you could do to compensate for the stunt you previously pulled.” 

The short man floundered for a second, waving his hands wildly in the air that it blatantly reminded Warrior and Legend of Ravio, 

“Stunt?! That, my boy, was a masterpiece! An ingenious idea executed by yours truly! A brilliant mastermind!” 

Wild eyed the deranged man uneasily. While accustomed to meeting outlandish, whimsical, and freakish people, the Hero was not at all fond of the village or the innkeeper. If everyone in the village were this...quirky, he wasn’t sure how he would survive.

He turned, not wanting to risk staying and discovering just how odd this village and its villagers could be, and made for the door. “I’m leaving. There are plenty of good trees outside to choose from-” But he didn’t get far when Warrior grasped the collar of his tunic and tugged him back, 

“If we have to suffer, then you have to suffer,” The Knight groused goodnaturedly. Wild shot him a disturbed look,  “You’re going to make us stay here?” He whispered, almost pleading with Warrior to say no. 

In the background, Hyrule was bartering with the innkeeper, slowly but surely lowering the equally preposterous prices for their rooms.

“There’s a storm coming,” Warrior returned, lowering his voice in the same manner as Wild, “And from what you observed earlier, it’s going to be a bad one, so yes,” He nodded solemnly and with a slight grimace, “We’re stuck here for the night.” 

Wild could only sigh and stare longingly at the door splattered with paint and other haphazard decorations. 

~~~~

“A dog,” Twilight growled under his breath as he followed Time to their rooms, “Of all things, a dog?” 

Time smothered a smile. Truly, nothing dug under Twilight’s skin more than being mistaken for a dog. 

“Come now, Twi,” Wild interjected, lips twitching and laughter lacing his word, “It could be worse-” He attempted to appease the older teen when Twilight rounded on him with an intense stare that promised recompense,  “And you-”  Wild chuckled, a full-blown smile still visible for all to see. 

“Before you say anything, I was saving your hide!” 

“Down boy?” 

Wild could only shrug, a hand cupping the back of his neck. 

“Roll over?!” 

“I had to play it off!” Wild defended himself with a laugh that would melt anyone’s heart. 

“And you did so wonderfully,” Time assured him, much to Twilight’s dismay. His descendant’s jaw dropped before he collected himself with a stubborn shake, 

“What? Old Man-” 

Time planted a hand on Twilight’s head, disheveling his hair teasingly, “The innkeeper allowed you in, didn’t he?” 

“Even if he hadn’t, I would have found a way in,” Twilight muttered unhappily, glowering at the far end of the hallway. The rest of the Heroes ambled after them, a safe distance away so neither of them would uncover the truth of Wolfie, “If there is one thing we Links are known for, it’s for entering without invitation.” 

“Then people should lock their doors,” Wild suggested without an ounce of remorse. The amount of times he’d simply walked into people’s homes was innumerable. 

“Perhaps,” Time murmured, shutting his eye against the atrocity of the paintings and decor of the corridor and listening to the whispering of Warrior, Legend, and Sky. 

The draperies were a variety of blinding colors- some Time wondered how they succeeded in making. 

“My headache is getting worse from this ghastly place,” Legend groaned, cradling his aching head. Sky was rubbing at his eyes, opening them into slits. He couldn’t physically bring himself to open them any wider. 

“Stupid storm,” Wind grumped, crossing his arms with a pout, “Why did it have to come now?” 

“With any luck, it’ll breeze right on by within a couple of hours,” Warrior hummed, glancing out the nearest window. Already, lightning was webbing across the dark expanse of the sky, illuminating the village below. 

Wind perked up, “Does that mean we can leave afterwards?” 

“Unfortunately, no,” 

“Aw...” 

“Don’t worry, bud, it’ll be morning before we know it,” Warrior said reassuringly, and Time could not deny the hopefulness in his tone. 

“I hope so,” Came Hyrule’s quiet voice. Their group slowed when the three Heroes ahead of them came to a stop. 

“Here we are,” Time announced, stopping in front of their given rooms, “We booked three for the night. Split accordingly.” 

The Links did as they were told almost instinctively. Time, Twi, and Wild were in one, with Warrior, Sky, and Legend in another, then Hyrule, Four, and Wind. 

Time nodded approvingly, tossing a set of keys to Warrior and Hyrule. Warrior caught it with ease, but unfortunately for Hyrule, they sprung off his hands and began their descent to the ground. He scrambled frantically to keep them from clattering on the wood, fearing he’d disturb any sleeping guests and snatched at air in a desperate attempt to catch them. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when the key ring miraculously slipped onto his finger, sweat beading his forehead. Immediately afterwards, Hyrule shoved them into Four’s hand, unwilling to keep the keys longer than necessary. 

Time sent him an apologetic look, to which Hyrule responded with a timid smile and wave of his hand. His poor face burned, red dusting his cheeks from the embarrassing display. 

“We leave at seven and no later,” The leader informed the group. He received varying affirmative responses before they broke apart and disappeared into their selected rooms. 

Wild’s eyes immediately lit up once his gaze landed on the most welcome sight in the entirety of the world- a bed. 

Ugly comforter and equally hideous pillowcases aside, it was the greatest gift Wild could ask for. 

Behind him, Twilight made a noise of frustration. 

“Polka dots...Can’t escape them,” 

Time snorted softly. 

“I’m afraid not.” 

Of the three beds, the only agreeable one was the green in the center. It was a deep, earthy, tone with dark blue polka dots and white sheets. Not too horrible. Time and Wild silently elected to give Twilight that bed. 

The first was an extraordinarily faded red- bordering on pink- with bright orange polka dots and the third was a sunny yellow with orange, red, green, blue, and purple polka dots littered about the fluffy comforter. 

What was with this place? 

“I’ll take the one of the far end,” Wild piped up, breaking the contemplative silence that had fallen o’er their Leader as he attempted to choose between the lesser of two evils. 

Time turned to fix Wild with a raised eyebrow, “Are you sure?” 

Wild nodded with a small grin, “I’ve seen worse than an ugly, yellow, polka-dotted bed, Time. This will be nothing compared to what I’ve faced.” This earned him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. 

“Then that leaves me with the first,” 

Twilight looked between them, “Leaves you with..? I haven’t chosen..?” 

Time walked past the confused Ordonian, knocking him lightly on the head with his fist, 

“We chose for you, Pup,” He said by way of explaining. Well, Twilight wouldn’t complain. He wandered to his bed, reaching down to grasp the edge of the comforter tucked underneath the overstuffed pillow. He tugged, but the comforter refused to budge. 

Twilight heaved a silent sigh of exasperation and annoyance. 

“I hate this place...” He muttered darkly, yanking with all his might and ripping the comforter free. Time and Wild had already rid themselves of their weapons and packs, setting them aside with care. Twilight threw his own pack on the ground without a thought but couldn’t bring himself to change out of his tunic. He could care less if he slept in it. 

He was about to crawl in and curl up when a muffled, startled shout filtered through the thick walls followed by a painful thump! 

Time, Wild, and Twilight leaped to their feet, instinctively reaching for their weapons when an aggravated and alarmed voice hollered,  “Why is there a CUCCO in my bed?!” 

A short, huff of laughter escaped Wild before the teen attempted to stifle it. 

“Where did it even come from?! Warrior, get rid of it!” 

There was an indignant squawk that followed Legend’s exclamation. 

“I am not going anywhere NEAR that thing, Legend! You’re on your own with this one!” 

Time lifted a hand to his mouth to smother his laughter. Warrior’s voice had come from farther away, telling them the Captain had scrambled a safe distance away from their unwelcome guest. 

“Sky!” Two identical calls were issued soon afterwards, “You love these things! Why don’t you get it?” 

There was a softer, drowsier sound the Heroes knew to be Sky calmly talking to the paranoid Heroes rooming with him. Time imagined him gently coaxing the Cucco from Legend’s bed and offering his own. 

After a few moments had passed, the excitement died down and Time figured it was safe to try and get some sleep before they left in a few hours. Thankfully, they didn’t have a surprise Cucco in their room...

At least, Time thought as he settled into his bed and drew the covers past his shoulders, he hoped there wasn’t. 

~~~~

Hyrule expelled a forlorn sigh from where he sat against the headboard of his bed, knees drawn to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs, dark eyes flitting from a slumbering Wind to a sleeping Four. 

He could tell from their constant shifting and moving that neither of his companions were resting well. 

It was impossible to in this awful place. 

Hyrule himself couldn’t bring himself to try and sleep. The reason? Because of the huge, wide-open, eye painted on the ceiling that looked capable of peering through one’s very soul and ensnaring it. 

Just thinking about it made him shudder. 

He tried his hardest not to look at it, but it was difficult not to! His eyes would instinctively snap up to peek at it then flit away. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the eye was looking right at him. 

Not to mention that he needed to use the restroom badly. He jostled his foot, the mattress vibrating from the motion. Was it worth the risk of leaving the safety of this room to endure the ghastly and horrific sight he knew lingered in the hallways? 

He sighed again, raking a hand through his hair and frowned. He might as well. He really did have to go. 

Without giving himself a chance for second thoughts, Hyrule swiftly slipped from his bed and crossed the room to the door in record time. He turned the knob as silently as he could, cracking the door open slowly to ensure it didn’t creak and the wood didn’t croak beneath his feet. 

He shut it behind him and turned to head down the corridor to where he knew the bathroom for this floor was located. He refrained from looking anywhere but the planks in front of him, counting his steps out of sheer boredom and a feeble attempt to distract himself from the atrocities surrounding him. 

Before he knew it, he was standing before the bathroom door that had the largest possible handle he’d ever seen. 

This was sure to become one of the most memorable time of his life- and not for any good or sentimental reasons. 

The handle, Hyrule unnervingly found, resembled a tormented face with features contorted in pain, the handle for the nose, and mouth gaping open in a silent scream. 

Not at all ominous... 

Hyrule shut his eyes against it and extended a hand blindly to grasp at the knob and turn it. He heard an eerie groan as he pushed against the wood and slipped inside. 

Releasing the breath he’d been holding, Hyrule tiredly clicked the door shut and dragged a sleeve across his forehead. 

He wished they could leave this dreaded place. How anyone could sleep here was beyond him! 

He supposed it could be worse and made to turn around when he heard the sound of nails clawing against wood, racing upwards and when he turned, heart leaping into his throat, he watched with disbelieving eyes as a ghostly white apparition came shooting out from the toilet. 

“Paaaaaaaaper....paaaaaapeeeerrrr....” 

Hyrule had never shrieked so shrilly in his entire life. 

~~~~ 

A rumbling boom reverberated throughout the inn. 

“Hyrule!” 

The Heroes burst from their assigned rooms and into the hallway, weapons drawn and expressions fierce. They were ready to storm to Hyrule’s aid, worry clawing its way to their hearts and sudden protectiveness taking root. 

Whoever had threatened or frightened Hyrule would pay severely for their heinous crime. 

An earthy green and brown blur dashed past Warrior and at Time, slamming into the leader and revealing itself to be a breathless and traumatized Hyrule. 

Time instinctively caught him, demanding at once, 

“What is it, Hyrule?” 

Hyrule never once loosened his grip on Time, turning slightly to point down the corridor to say, 

“Hand!” He breathlessly managed, all too relieved to be with his companions, “Ghost hand in the toilet!” 

Sky perked up curiously, “Peoni?” 

At the same time, Legend and Time also uttered names the Heroes didn’t recognize, 

“Hand?” 

“???” 

“Ghost hand?” Warrior quirked an eyebrow, turning to peer down towards the bathroom. He blinked and whistled lowly, “What’s with the smoke?” 

The area the bathroom was in was in shambles. Splintered wood, scorched planks, and ruptured flooring covered with water told Warrior the restroom was no longer usable. 

Hyrule chuckled a bit nervously, standing behind Time and peeking around him, “It popped out from the toilet and scared me so badly I might’ve...instinctively lashed out with a magic attack?” 

“Was that what the explosion was?” Wind piped up from beside Warrior, resting on his sword and relaxing since he knew there was no imminent danger. 

“Magic attack?” Four curiously repeated. 

Hyrule didn’t hear their questions and instead looked up at Time timidly, “Can we please leave this awful place, Time?” 

He’d had enough. Monsters he could do. Mobs of them? No problem. Ghosts- especially a ghost hand that apparently lives in a toilet? That was pushing it. 

Time glanced down at him. Unable to withstand the pitiful look the younger Hero was pulling, Time sighed and ruffled his hair.

“We might as well, or we’ll end up paying for repairs.” 

The others cheered. 

“Oh thank goodness!” Legend breathed a sigh of relief, immediately disappearing into his room and tossing out his, Warrior, and Sky’s belongings, “Let’s hurry up and go then!” 

Wind and Wild dashed into their own to do the same, shoving packs into Twilight, Time, and Four’s hands. 

“We’ve got everything!” Wild cheerfully declared, tossing his bag over his shoulder, “Let’s get outta here!” 

“What in tarnation..!” A voice cried out from behind them. 

Time’s eye marginally widened as the Heroes started and whipped their heads ‘round to find a shocked and fuming innkeeper standing behind them. 

Warrior was the first to recover, barking out an order the Links didn’t hesitate to execute, 

“Run!” 

[utanoprinces]

Dragon Route: Ai

Ranmaru’s Route Camus’ Route

Very late but done at last! Hope you all enjoy and as always, let me know what you think!

Tale of: the Witch and Pearl Dragon

The kingdom has been awash in a panic since the return of dragons. After giving away the Squire, the people had hoped the dragons would be tricked for longer than a few days, but merely a week had passed before they paid the court another visit. They were angry, blowing smoke and sparks and giving one last warning: hand over the real Princess, alone, on the balcony at sunset… and the king had done it. Two girls lost to the mountains forever. However, the most important detail of this situation, at least to you, is this: Dragons exist in the mountains… and where there are dragons, there are a great many resources for magic. As a witch, that thought is more than intriguing. You are standing in your home, two weeks after the real Princess was taken. What do you want to do?

> Investigate my home in search of travel essentials and info about the mountain or the dragons.

In your kitchen, you find a box of travel rations, as well as your spellcrafting station. You find a small cauldron, the size of a ball, and a satchel with many compartments for ingredients. In your bedroom, you find two sets of traveling clothes, toiletries, and a large rucksack. At your desk is a handful of maps detailing the mountains. One map shimmers when it's held up to the light; it lists magical hotspots in a  certain valley, with a large concentration on the side of a mountain there. It looks like it will take about six days to reach. You have enough supplies to get there, easily. Beside your front door is a broom, but there are also a handful of Babylon candles for quick travel. What will you do?

> From the kitchen: pack rations inside the cauldron, put basic ingredients in the satchel, and my favorite spellbook. From bedroom: pack the travel clothing and toiletries on the rucksack along with the cauldron. From the desk: pack only the most detailed maps, including the magic one. Pack the candles and use the broom to travel. "It'll be pointless to waste the Babylon candles if I don't know the exact location, my broom is the best option."

Take the magic map, satchel, rucksack, broom and begin my journey.

You wait until you are far enough from the city to not be noticed, then board your broom and begin the journey to the mountains. It is three days, even at your quickest pace, before you reach the foothills, and three more days to get deep enough in the mountains to start searching for the valley. Your map is enchanted to blink to show your location, so navigation should be easy, but as you get closer to the valley, you begin to encounter impenetrable cloud cover. Your map also acts up, blinker going dark occasionally, or facing the wrong way. It's safer to fly lower down, so you move towards the ground. The clouds give way to a beautiful meadow, filled with flowers, ponds and... faerie rings. You realize you are in the home of the Fae, now, and you will have to remain sharp, lest you get caught in some spell or another. Pausing to light down, you look at your surroundings. Mountain peaks pierce the sky around you. A lazy forest sprawls as far as the eye can see, cut only by other meadows like the one you're standing in. The sun is bright and beautiful. Everything is beautiful here. The colors are more saturated, the scents more tantalizing. Sparks of magic lift off the earth, floating like motes in the air. Magical energy is thick here, but it's not what you came for. The Mountain looms ahead, overlooking the valley like a guardian. A castle is carved into its side, twisting spires jutting out of cliffs. The stone is a greenish-blue and has a luster which only serves to prove who lives there, along with the wide landing dais that sits like a mouth near the center of the whole thing. The dragons are near. What will you do?

> Even if I'm amazed by the beautiful scenery, I must be careful, for I could be lost forever if I wander in the wrong way. Paying careful attention to the feeling of magic, I get to the mountains. As I get close to the castle, I feel a wave of anxiety fill me up. Will I be ok? I need to remind myself this is worth it. I  order my broom to take me closer to the castle as safely as possible, evading the faerie rings, and packing the map again.

As your broom descends to the landing dais, you hear a sound like crystal beads falling together and a prismatic shimmer ripples around the castle. Too late, you realize that it is an alarm, and the dragons will surely know you are here. Shortly after the sound fades, you hear the bass thrum of expansive wings.

> "Damn...." I whisper. I quickly hide my broom under some bushes and prepare to defend myself.   I knew something like this could happen, so, I need to accept whatever comes my way. I try to hide best as I can. Maybe I have a chance for them thinking it's a false alarm.

As you watch and wait, two dragons emerge from the cavern. One is emerald green with gnarled black horns with silver ribbing. His four legs are long, almost cat-like, and his tail is a long fringe somewhere between feathers and fur. The other dragon is longer and thinner, with short legs and smooth scales the color of a pearl. He has frilled ears and catfish-like tendrils that wave in a nonexistent current. His wings are shaped more like fins than proper wings. They both light down on the dais, causing the ground to shake beneath you. You watch as they look around, heads snaking one way and then the other. You hear voices that ricochet off the mountainside, as well as inside your head. "Looks like a false alarm, Ai-Ai~ Was probably a bird or something." "No..." The white dragon's eyes narrow as he looks at the ground, gaze drawing closer to your hiding place. "It doesn't trigger from animals--only humans and Fae." The green dragon rolls his head. "Okay, what do you want to do?" "Shift." They exchange glances and then smoke pours off of them, green and lavender respectively. The smoke sparkles in the sunlight. As the wind blows it away, two men are standing there, dressed most strangely. The one with seafoam-colored hair, you're assuming the white dragon, lifts his hand and blows on it. Bubbles rise from his palm and spread out across the dais, rising and falling on the air and moving behind trees, bushes, stones. Before you can react, a bubble appears beside you. "There," the white dragon points. They move towards you. What will you do?

> From my hiding spot, I watch as they transform with a smile. So they can adopt a smaller form. That could make things easier; it works on my favor. The white dragon's horns are so beautiful. I can only imagine how wonderful of an ingredient they would be. But to achieve my goals, I need to be smart. Trying to keep myself calm, I try to subtly use my magic to lead the bubble away.

The green dragon's head pokes around the bush you're hiding behind. He smiles. "Helloooo~ human!"

The bubble you were guiding bursts, followed quickly by all the others. The white dragon also peers around the side. He aims a hand at you, but nothing happens.

"Reiji. You're always so blase," he mutters dully. 'Reiji' licks his lips and you see his tongue is long and reptilian. It slides over white, too-sharp teeth slowly.

"Well, I'd hate to assume the worst, Ai-Ai~"

The white dragon (Ai-Ai?) rolls his eyes and looks at you.

"Who are you?"

> I wonder if I should play innocent or should I attack?  I give a tentative step backward. They don't seem easy to fool and I dislike lying.  This is what I came for, and by the heavens am I going to get it!  I raise my hands and try to cast a spell. Maybe I can make them sleep.

The white dragon closes his fingers in your direction.

"Unfortunate,"  he mutters. You feel your energy flicker. All at once, your ability to sense and control magic dulls like a candle being blown out. The white dragon puts his hand to his mouth and makes a gesture like he's swallowing. He glares at the green dragon. "This is why I never bother with pleasantries." Reiji closes his eyes and shrugs.

"It can't hurt to try, but," he looks at you, "what are we going to do with her?"

The white dragon stares at you, eyes round and blue and penetrating. The longer he looks, the more you feel like a bug under a microscope. His skin is luminous. His lips are shiny. His horns look like lavender jade and they're studded with beautiful pearls and silver barnacles. His cyan hair is a shock against his fair skin and everything about him seems beautiful. You blink, realizing you've been staring. He cocks his head.

"Shall we make her a bride?"

Reiji glances at you, suddenly looking uncomfortable. He opens and closes his mouth several times before speaking lowly. "I..."

The white dragon lowers his head. "It's been... fifty years but... I suppose I can't speak against you."

"I think I'll... skip this turn if it's all the same to you."

"Very well." The white dragon turns to you. "It will be nice to try with a magic user. Come," he offers his hand to you. "If you behave, perhaps you can earn your magic back."

Will you accept his hand?

> The moment I lose my magic, I feel hopeless and scared. Even if my broom is safe, I would not be able to escape. After staring at him, hearing the word ‘bride’ made me panic.  While they were discussing, I turned my head around to catch a sight of the forest behind me. My chances of running away are too slim. I forced myself not to cry, but the expression of the green dragon made it worse. The white dragon may be the most beautiful creature I've seen, but right now I want to kill him... what else can I do?

Pride or life?

I cursed my greed while I took his hand, not wanting to look at him. I feel shy and scared.

He smiles softly and sighs as he helps you to your feet. You notice a small cloud of lavender-colored, sparkling mist diffuse from his mouth. Reiji chuckles.

"Ai-Ai, you're uh... doing it again."

The white dragon's cheeks flush a watery, raspberry pink. He closes his mouth tightly and frowns. "Why does it matter? If all goes well, she will be accepting of it by tonight."

"...remember last time?" Reiji looks serious and his voice suddenly takes on a low tone, jarringly different from before. The white dragon wilts a bit.

"... I suppose you are right. I will do my best this time."

They both raise their hands. The green dragon draws a spiral in the air and the white dragon pulses a glimmering aura from his hands. You blink...

...and now you are all standing in a beautiful courtyard. It's lush and green. Vines overhang the upper levels, curtains of moss draping down the walls, covered in mahogany-colored, bioluminescent, trumpet-shaped flowers. You look around.

There are two other horned men in the room, as well as a girl with long, waving brown hair and the Princess. The man with silver hair is asleep on a stone bench, his head in the lap of the brown-haired girl, while the Princess is with a blond, drinking tea at a cute white table. The blond turns towards your group as you materialize.

"What was the disturbance?" His voice is deep and rich.

"A lucky intruder," the white dragon says, guiding you forward with his hand. "This will save us time. I hope to win her heart." The Princess and the other girl both look up, eyes going wide. The Princess jumps up and runs over to you.

"Wow, another girl! You're so cute, what pretty hair!" Her grin is warm and infectious. You can't help but want to smile despite yourself. She grabs your shoulders to look at you better. "Are you a Princess, too?"

What will you do?

> I look around at everything, amazed. This is not a common dragon cave. I was expecting something worse. The place is beyond any dream I could ever have. The girl and the Princess look happy too. That was confusing; I was expecting to find only her bones. I step forward but wince at their general words. That hurt... Are they both Princesses? They look so cute. I quickly take my hat to make a reverence. His words, however, left me intrigued. Win my heart? That and having the Princess inspect me made me blush. I shake my head ‘no’.

The white dragon tugs your hand so you bump into him, keeping you close.

"She is not a Princess. She is a witch."

The Princess gapes, mouth opening into an 'o'. "A witch! Wow!" She looks at you, "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?"

The brunette wiggles out from under the bristling silver head in her lap and walks up to you. "Princess, that's a bit um... blunt."

The Princess pouts. "I just want to know!"

Reiji laughs as he walks into the room to find a seat on a broken pillar. "Well, currently, she's neither. Ai-Ai swallowed her magic." The blond man lurches to his feet, blue eyes flashing.

"Did she attack you, Ai?"

'Ai' places his free hand on his hip. It seems to sink into the material of his robe, you notice absently, almost as though the robe is water enchanted into place. "It was easily taken care of, so there's no need for you to get worked up, Camus." He puffs out more of that purple mist. "I won't have you threatening my bride." You get a small hint of the mist, being so close to him. It smells like warm sand and lilac flowers. It makes your mouth water.

Camus shakes his head. "Bringing in a witch as your bride... Are you mad? You endanger us all."

"Shut up," the silver-haired man growls, rolling over on the bench. His red tail curls over and hits the ground with a threatening thump! "Let him do what he wants. The sooner he and Reiji get brides, the sooner I can take mine once and for all." The brunette girl blushes but says nothing. You notice Reiji tense up when he's mentioned. Ai sighs and then moves around to stand in front of you.

"What is your name?"

> I felt scared feeling him this close, but as the other men came closer, I was thankful. I wanted to answer. Of course, I'm an evil witch, but as the blond one began speaking, I closed my mouth. Better not to make him angry. It was then when I smelled something delicious, and I covered my mouth, blushing even harder. I didn't know I was so hungry…. I felt distracted until I saw his face again.

I tell him my name. "I’m known as the Black Forest Witch," I tried to answer with an intimidating tone, but I could not get rid of the feeling in my mouth.

He murmurs your name. Another puff of the mist washes over you, tantalizing your senses. Your body feels restless--hungry and thirsty, but not for food or water. Your mind becomes hazy and your cheeks burn. Reiji laughs, pulling his legs up into a crossed position. His tail wiggles happily and he holds a hand up over his mouth teasingly.

"Ai-Ai! If you're going to seduce her, you should at least take her to your room~" He laughs more and the girls join him in giggling. The Princess smiles.

"Unless you want to put on a show~"

Ai lifts his free hand and that colorful aura appears again. Your stomach lurches as you close your eyes. When you open them, you are in a room lit by luminous water running down the walls. Ponds resembling tide pools are all over the floor, each containing piles of gold, jewels, and other treasures. You see pearls in all sizes and colors, as well as sea glass.

The room has a low ceiling that glitters like a starry sky, but it expands out a great distance, disappearing into a murky glow between stalagmites. One wall is completely covered in bookshelves that are packed with tomes. Some of the titles you recognize as being spell books, others as volumes about alchemy and the Fae. A bed is on the other wall, shaped like an open oyster shell. The bedding is pale purple and there are round pillows all over it, as well as strings of glowing pearls hanging like a canopy above.

Ai releases your hand and pulls a stretch of gossamer fabric from the top of his robes up to hide his face. "You'll have to forgive me. I... have always struggled with holding back my more intense affection. Please," he gestures at the room. "You may acquaint yourself with my belongings." He looks shy as he whispers your name.

What will you do?

> Hearing him saying my name was glorious and, suddenly, I felt really thankful that he was holding my hand. I couldn't even register what everyone else was saying, I just wanted to get closer to him. When I opened my eyes, I started feeling curious, but the moment he let go of me again, I felt sad.  Everything looked beautiful, elegant, but nothing could compare to him. Not quite wanting to leave his side, I reluctantly go to look at the books.

As you expected, the bookshelves yield a fascinating array of books. Everything from mass-printed queries by humans, to rare journals from famous alchemists from hundreds of years ago. There are scrolls and maps and charts and diagrams, as well as jars and other containers of preserved items like six-legged newts. Ingredients. You notice some more artistic pieces: a few sketches and watercolor paintings tacked inside some of the bookshelf doors. They are of the dragons themselves, both in human and dragon form. A part of you wishes you could still sense whether the items are magical, but at least you can read, still.

> Already feeling better, I start reading the titles of those books.

"This is incredible…. I have only heard legends of these books existing..." Not being able to sense any magic, I feel a bit disappointed. However, the blond man/dragon was right. I had every intention to kill them and use them in potions or sell their materials… but they didn't seem bad, and "Ai" even stood up for me. He was so handsome, and his voice was angelic. Did he really mean to take me as a bride?

"Your... " I cleared my throat, getting close to him again. "Your name is ‘Ai’, right? … Hm... Why.... what did you mean... saying I'm your bride?"

He hums thoughtfully at your question.

"I suppose I was very vague earlier. If you are to be mine, I should tell you everything clearly." He steps closer to you, hands folded behind his back. "You see, we are bound together by a curse for failing to work together when the Fae needed us most. None of us can find 'happiness' until we work together to reach it at the same time. By ‘happiness’," he blinks, soft lashes brushing his cheeks slowly, "I mean love. Family, really." As he speaks, he exhales more and more of that purple mist until there is a fog formed between you. The scent is stronger than before and it makes your heart beat faster, your legs weaken, and your heart yearn. He turns to you, reaching for your hand again. He draws it up to his lips and then runs his thumb over your knuckles.

"Ranmaru and Camus have found brides already. They grow impatient to wed and mate. If I have you... we will only need one more to break the curse."

> Not even once did he consider that I might not want to be a bride? But... as his words fell onto me, I felt dizzy. For such a purpose, anyone would be able to help... even me. And as I began to notice the mist, I began considering how handsome he was. Was he really making me his? His lips felt like silk and I wanted him to keep touching me.

"Love... Are you really willing to love a simple witch? You want me to be yours, can you be mine too?" I asked blushing, staring at the floor.

He blinks at you, large eyes soft and unreadable. "A dragon's love is consummate. Should you yield your all to me, I will become yours, body, mind, and soul." He cocks his head. "You are being very cooperative, for falling into this deal accidentally. I will give you one aspect of your magic back if you'd like." He holds his fingers to his lips. "What aspect would you like to receive?"

> Sense magical properties

> Use constructive magic

> Use destructive magic

> "Do forgive me if  I sound a bit... impolite." I said avoiding his gaze. "But I could not ask for a better deal than what's currently being offered." I begin playing with the end of my sleeves. "As I see it, I could learn a lot more from that shelf alone than I could ever hope for outside. Knowledge is the most valuable treasure I see in this room... apart from you. You seem kind to me, even when I tried to...." I fall silent, listening.

"Would you really? I'd love to have my sense of magical properties."

His cheeks bloom a brighter pink than you've seen yet. He draws his fingers away from his lips. Curls of white glimmers appear on his fingertips and he exhales a great deal of essence that clouds your head. He waves his hand over you and you feel a small portion of your magic energy return. You now see the full shimmering effects of his purple mist, how it twists and clings to you. Looking at the bookshelves, easily half of the collection glows and pulses. You also see an aura surrounding them, most likely a preservation spell to keep the contents safe from moisture. He covers his face with part of his clothing again, looking at you bashfully.

"Knowledge? A valuable treasure? Perhaps..." He sighs shakily and more Essence flows from him. "Forgive me.... It would seem you are far more attractive to me than I first assessed." The scent fogs your mind. It makes you feel like you're on a fresh seashore, hot from overhead sun, like the nectar of flowers and fruit are tingling your lips, dripping down your neck and shoulders. You sway a bit and he presses a hand to his mouth like a shield.

"If you earn all your magic back by tonight, I will initiate a bond with you.... It may help me hold… myself back. Now," he looks at you fully, "do you have any more questions? Or would you like to explore other parts of the castle? Oh," he looks at your body. "Perhaps you are hungry?"

What will you do?

> Even if I can now see all magic surrounding me, all I can think of is the mist and him. I close my eyes lightly, allowing myself to enjoy these new sensations. I extend my hand to play with some of the remains of the purple mist in the air. "So... this is why I feel strange..." I blush a bit more. "What is this? Would you mind if we stay? I'm so tired from my journey and those books look so appealing... You must know a lot of magic if you could seal mine so easily... Could you tell me how you did it?"

He bites his lower lip briefly. "It... is Essence... my Essence. Not unlike the pheromones of a moth, if perhaps more magical in nature. It is meant to aid communication between dragon couples. It transfers feelings, some sensations and..." his voice drops to a breathy murmur, "encourages loyalty." He places a hand on his chin, considering. "You have a good deal of questions, something I can both understand and appreciate. If you are tired, I will allow you to choose any book you like and read until you fall asleep. When you have rested and eaten, I will answer questions related to magic but...." He tips your chin up and leans in, nose brushing yours. "I will only show you how to seal magic when we have bonded. Sleep well. I have other responsibilities in the castle. Should you need me," he points to a bubble floating by, one of several, "pop one of these and I will arrive shortly." With that, he leans back and waves a hand, disappearing.

You are now alone in the bedroom of P E A R L  D R A G O N  A I. What will you do?

> Feeling him this close made me blush again. He is so interesting... and to witches, nothing is more appealing than power and knowledge. He's everything I could ask for. As he leaves, I feel lonely. I pick a spellbook and find a place to read. Can't sleep. I need to remain awake. I want to know more. Not only to earn my magic back. I want to know more about him. Explore the room without messing anything up.

You pick up 'Common Fae Traps and How to Avoid Them' and sit on the edge of the oyster bed. It's soft and smells strongly of Ai's… Essence. After attempting to read for a while, your curiosity gets the better of you. You explore the room carefully, not wanting to make a mistake that will cost you your magic or your bond.

The bed has white, lustrous nightstands on either side. One is completely empty while the other contains writing utensils and several leather-bound journals. You open them, finding scribbled messes of spell plans and experiments. Some have 'FAILURE' scrawled across the top, some 'ADJUSTMENTS', some 'SUCCESS'. In one of the older looking books, you find a diagram of a compact mirror with illegible writing labeling various parts. At the top, it says 'for Reiji'.

Back at the bookshelves, in an alcove, you find a spellcrafting and alchemy station. Several small cauldrons and rows and rows of vials, as well as ingredients, are sprawled across the table. You go back to the sketches you saw earlier. They're mostly of Ai, some with a girl who looks meek. Almost sad. There are several of Ai blowing bubbles and one of him asleep at a desk. In the cabinet, there is a dusty journal with a crumpled paper sticking out of it. You pull on the paper. It's a... drawn portrait of the dragons, the meek girl, and someone whose face is crossed out. Over Ai is an ugly, black scrawl.

'M U R D E R E R'

The journal has entries from around fifty years ago.

What do you want to do?

> I don't want to invade his privacy. I leave the journal where I found it and go sit and think. If this is a curse, this might not be the first time they’ve brought girls here.  Loving him shouldn't be hard. Even so, I  feel scared. "Murderer." The word alone is scary. I don't want to be alone, I want to see him again... and I'm hungry. I go close to a bubble and touch it.

You touch one of the passing bubbles and it pops, making a sound like the clattering crystal barrier from earlier. A minute passes and Ai materializes in front of you. He cocks his head.

"You called for me? Have you rested enough?"

> I feel a bit nervous and shy again, even more so after having him in front of me again. "Y-yes... Thank you. I'm... I'm feeling much better."

He smiles, small and delicate, and you feel a bit shocked to see the amount of affection in his eyes. He looks around the room, probably to check if anything has been tampered with, and upon seeing that you have remained respectful of his belongings, he smiles wider. He turns back to you.

"You have earned another aspect of your magic back. Which will you choose?"

> Constructive magic

> Destructive magic

> I feel so small compared to him, both in height and power. His affection makes me feel butterflies inside. I choose constructive magic. Since there are other dragons, I need to be prepared in case I get hurt. Or... if Ai gets hurt?

Just like before, he presses his fingers to his mouth, then pulls his hand outwards, revealing another portion of your sealed magic. He waves it towards you and you feel some of your power return, crackling in your veins. He offers you his hand.

"Humans require food several times a day. Surely you must be hungry? Come. I will take you to the dining hall."

Will you accept his hand?

> I’m beginning to feel much better than before and take his hand. "I am, thank you." I try to smile.

He sighs more Essence out in a faint cloud as your skin touches his, eyelids fluttering. He pulses magic through his other hand, and the world fades around you, rematerializing as a massive stone hall, lit by a huge fire in the center of the room, as well as glowing orbs around the edges. Looking around, you see the other dragons, as well as the Princess and the Squire. They are seated at a long table on a raised platform. The table is laden with delicious-looking food on pewter dishes. At one end, the Princess is scolding the blond man as he lifts a spoonful of whipped cream to his mouth.

"Myu! You can't just eat sugar! You have to have a balanced diet to be healthy!"

At the other end of the table, beside an empty chair, Reiji laughs as he sips something from a black goblet. "He's been doing it for five hundred years already, Princess! It'll be hard to stop him now!"

The Squire and Ranmaru, the silver-haired man, are busily building a tower of steaks towards the center of the table. Between them and Reiji are a pair of empty seats. Ai, still holding your hands, guides you to the seats and helps you sit down before doing the same.  He peers around the table, frowns, then pulses his fingers. A frothy, milky, purple drink forms in his hand in a crystal glass. He sips it politely before looking to you.

"Let me know if you have any particular desires and I will conjure them. Otherwise, please eat whatever you wish."

What will you do?

> His hand in mine always feels good, like it's just right. I smile a bit at that. As we appear at the hall, I let my curiosity kick in, following him without saying anything until we reach our places. I thank him and greet everyone politely. As I study the food, I watch him sip his glass.

Give thanks for the meal and take a bit of chicken and fish. I don't want to be a bother, everything looks good anyway. Everyone looks like they are having a good time, so I say nothing else. Try taking his hand very slowly. Would he mind? Would he get mad at me?

You reach for his free hand, which is resting on the arm of his chair. He looks at you when your fingers brush his, then at your hands. As he realizes your goal, his cheeks pinken again. He turns his hand over, weaving his fingers through yours.

"I was not expecting you to be so comfortable," he murmurs. His soft breaths yield tiny puffs of Essence. He looks at you, eyes suddenly dark and alluring, and brings your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers one by one. "I must admit," he says, voice lower, "I am immensely pleased by the turn of events that have led you to me."

Suddenly, the Squire frowns and covers her nose and mouth. Ranmaru grows serious.

"What's wrong?"

"I... something smells sickly sweet... I feel gross..." Ranmaru looks around the table, confused over what could have caused it, when he notices Ai's Essence enveloping the pair of you. He growls.

"Oi! Haven't you got a handle on that yet?!"

Ai pulls away from your hand, covering his face with his clothing. "N… not yet. It's particularly difficult this time."

"You're makin' my bride sick. Get it together, already."

"Calm down, Ran-Ran..." Reiji says placatingly. "It's his first in a long time and," he giggles, "he was never great with it before."

Ranmaru stands, taking the Squire’s hand. "Whatever. If you can't put a lid on it, then we'll leave."

Camus speaks up. "Just go, already. We all know you're just using it as an excuse to take her back to your room and bathe her in your own Essence. Your unnecessary rudeness is disrupting the atmosphere." Ranmaru turns to say something, but the Squire tugs his hand and shakes her head. He rolls his eyes, then snaps his fingers and they both disappear.

"Myu!" The Princess pouts. "You made them leave!"

"They were already planning to go, whether I said anything or not, my dearest."

You notice Reiji smiling at you, eyes sad and distant. He smiles wider when you make eye contact and the look in his eyes grows even heavier. "It would seem Ai-Ai has stumbled across a lovely treasure."

What will you do?

> I blush at Ai’s actions, the look in his eyes is mesmerizing.  Why does it feel so good to be close to him? The Squire caught my attention and, while they were speaking, I stared at a puff of mist in the air. Is it really that sweet? I didn't notice...  I look at my hands to test how much of my magic can I use. I try to capture the puff of mist and try to eat it when I notice the other dragon looking at me. I stop. Treasure? Me? I blush yet again, then I go back to staring at the mist. If they smell sweet, they must taste sweet, with such intense magic. Try to eat the mist using a binding spell.

You bind a 'handful' of mist in your palm, bringing it to your mouth like an apple. You press it into your mouth. It tingles, tasting almost juicy. It makes your heart speed up and your head spin. You look around, noticing the room has grown completely silent, and see Ai, red-faced and staring at you. Reiji looks shocked, eyebrows high on his forehead. You look back behind you to see Camus, face flushed and looking pointedly away. The Princess is grinning, hands clasped in front of her.

Reiji's shock melts into a wicked smirk. You see his tail curl and wiggle behind him as he chuckles.

"Yes. A treasure, indeed. Ai-Ai, you've really matured~ All grown up."

Ai presses a hand to his face, still bright red. He sinks into the gossamer billows of fabric around his shoulders, silent.

"How lewd," Camus growls under his breath. "Come, my love. Let us not subject ourselves to such a display." He grabs the Princess' shoulder and blows on a colorful marble of ice in his hand. They disappear, leaving you with a blushing Ai and a teasing Reiji.

Reiji stands slowly, shrugging with a smug grin.

"I'll give you two lovebirds some privacy. Try not to break the table, Ai-Ai~"

How will you proceed?

> It does taste somewhat sweet, but now I feel strange. Maybe it was not a good idea... As I notice their reactions, I stare at them all, confused. What does Camus mean by that? Lewd? Me? I suddenly feel self-conscious. Did I do something wrong? I ask Ai if I did something wrong and try not to panic.

He peers at you over the veil of his clothing, eyes heated. You've been holding hands this whole time, so you can't react when he suddenly lifts his free hand and pulses his fingers. You arrive back in his room, standing at the foot of the bed. He steps so you are between his chest and the bed, gazing down at you with flushed cheeks and shining, needy eyes.

"Wrong? Well... one would almost think you were playing at seduction with ulterior motives, Witch." He leans down just a fraction, studying your face intently. He suddenly shudders and exhales a thicker cloud of Essence. It's intense, frenetic. As you breathe it in it makes you think of wildness. Of dancing below the moon on the solstice. The feeling of river water rushing over your skin. He grabs your wrists, lifting them and pressing down so you sink onto the bed. You feel weak. He purrs.

"Do you know what that means, human? Such a bold thing to do." He runs his nose up your neck, tracing it along your jaw. He laughs and suddenly, you feel as if his demeanor has changed. He seems more confident. More aggressive. "Honestly, I'm having trouble deciding whether to punish you... or bond with you immediately."

What do you want to do?

> Scared that I might have offended him, I stare at him in panic. "S-Seduction? When did...." I pause. The mist. This feeling... Could it be that I misunderstood it? After he sent more mist my way, with all of those emotions and what the others said, I begin to understand. Being pinned down by him, having the effects of the mist, and feeling him touch me makes me feel hot. I apologize. Even if I feel good, I might have done something to offend everyone. It might not be polite to eat mist (even if it was tasty.)

He breathes out more Essence and it begins to cloud the surrounding area. He hums in your ear, considering your apology. You feel teeth--sharp and pointed--lightly graze the joint of your neck and shoulder. His body trembles, even as his hands remain firm on your wrists.

"Mm... you don't have to apologize. You'll learn." His voice lowers to a breathy, keening growl. "I'll teach you... everything you ask if it means you'll stay with me. Love me." He lifts himself off you and stares into your eyes. "Will you accept me, human?"

What will you do?

> I can't think straight anymore. My body feels too weird, heavy, somewhat needy. I shiver at the feeling of his fangs, hearing his growls. All I want is for him to be closer. At this point, I'd accept everything he says, I'd do anything he asks for. "I want to stay with you."

His eyes close. He seems relieved. He crawls back and kneels in front of you. "I will initiate a bond with you now, as well as return the last aspect of your magic. Please," he offers you a hand, "may I help you sit up?"

> "I'm honored... for you to want to make a bond with me." I take his hand without thinking.

He helps you sit up straight and remains holding your hand. With his other, he touches his lips like he's done previously, then pulls his fingers outward. A heavily-concentrated string of mist flows out of his mouth, sparkling with streaks of what must be the last of your magic. He curls his fingers, drawing the mist into a ball shape, then holds it towards your face. He stares at you with entrancing, glittering eyes and pink cheeks, lips parted slightly.

"Inhale this. Your magic will return to you and... we will be bonded."

Will you accept?

> I lower my eyes to the mist with great curiosity. I could still kill him.... I just don't want to anymore. My magic and my future are right there, in front of me.  I look at him, hoping for the best. Accept the bond, I don't care if it has my magic or not. "Please, take care of me... " I say, feeling a bit shy, while I move closer to the mist to inhale it, allowing it to fill my lungs.

It seeps into your chest, spreading across your limbs, tingling and popping in all your senses. You feel the briskness of an ocean breeze, the sticky sensation of juice on your tongue, on your skin. Your mind fogs over, dulling your inhibitions and thoughts. The lights of Ai's room grow brighter. There's a multi-colored hue to them like everything is inside a bubble. You see him, blurry and bright, glowing like an angel. He catches your hands, taking them away from fumbling at your clothes.

"Not yet. Not yet. We..." He licks his lips, closing his eyes. "I... have to be patient. It's difficult, though," he runs the back of his hand down the side of your face, "with you so inviting and willing for me." He takes a lock of your hair and kisses it. His eyes open, flashing with a hungry look. "Mine. Such a new concept... I can't wait to research it thoroughly when the time comes." As he speaks, your mind clears and you are left feeling peaceful and admiring. He looks away, appearing serious. "All that is left is Reiji… and the curse will be broken."

What will you do?

> I shiver with that word alone. ‘Mine.’ It takes a bit to calm me down. Everything looks so different, so new, and all I want is to be with him; I even take his hand for him to keep petting me. "The curse... I almost forgot..." I try hugging him to reassure him and ask him if there's a way I could help. I'm still feeling off because of the mist, but I'm trying to think carefully.  Maybe, with my magic back, I can do something to help?

He laughs softly, a mere sharp intake of breath, and continues stroking your hair as he accepts your hug.

"Help? That's an incredibly generous thing to offer, for a witch. You are cut from a different cloth." He hums thoughtfully again; you hear the rumble of his melodic voice with your ear pressed against his chest. You feel him toying with the ends of your hair. "As much as I appreciate the offer, I think it is up to a game of chance at this point. We have to wait for the perfect partner for Reiji... and we will have to wait for him to accept them. Now," he slowly, reluctantly, pulls himself away from you, "it is time for you to sleep. I will give you the bed--I prefer the water, anyway." He breathes out another cloud of Essence, this time on purpose. It has a vaguely sleepy energy to it but isn't terribly strong.

At your longing look, he smiles and murmurs to himself. "I suppose... one can't hurt." He cups your face, tilting your chin up, and kisses you. His motions are slow, calculated and deliberate. Despite the chasteness, there is a restrained sort of passion that lingers at the edge of the kiss, making you dizzy. He pulls away, backing up into the wider part of his room as he begins to transform.

"Sleep well, my bride."

When he's transformed, he slithers into one of the tidepools, disappearing beneath the glowing waters. You lie back on the bed, heart beating heavily as you consider the events of the day. Thinking of the beauty, the knowledge, and the love you will most likely experience here, you can't be sad. No... you are pleased. Very pleased.

With the scent of him still lingering around you, you fall into a peaceful slumber and dream of pearls.

END

[eorzeasntm]

ENTM Tumblr Cycle 11 

Round 8: Spring Fever

Hi folks!  Our last round for this cycle - and on this platform - was a celebration of the warm weather and beautiful spring flowers.  I asked our models to go out and take a pastel shot with some pretty spring plants.  Our models all showed off their joy for the season, but the most joyous this round was:

Kota Tumet

Congratulations!   The judges all loved how serene this shot was - truly the embodiment of a warm spring day. 

Our guest judge this week was Twilight Dove of ENTM, the runner up of YouTube Cycle 2.  Thanks Twilight!

The winner of ENTM Tumblr Cycle 11 will be announced in the NEXT POST.

In the meantime, for all our models, we have critiques and parting comments from our judges below the fold. 

Judge Twilight

Adam Evershot: This shot feels a bit like I'm having a romantic spring stroll through a glade with a Prince Charming. I really enjoy the depth of the shot with you (or us?) walking toward the forest, but I wish that there was a clearer destination in those trees. The hint of the building just off to the side is a nice touch, but I wish it were a little less obscured by the foliage near the camera. I do think you've done a good job giving us a gentle action shot, and the overall feel of it makes your choice to be facing away from the camera work in your favor. 

 Kota Tumet: What a lovely screen shot! You look so serene, I can almost smell the flowers and feel the gentle breeze just looking at you! Great job, this shot really says "spring"! 

 Ni'ko Shae: I'm surprised you were the only one to take a photo in the rain! You're very on brand with your choice to take a photo with the purple flowers of the Sylphlands, I do feel like the background might be a bit too busy, and the lights behind you are a tiny bit distracting, but you placed yourself well in the frame and you lit yourself in a way that helps you stand out even though you're dressed nearly entirely in purple as well. Good job! 

 Peaceful Ursa: The softness of this photo helps make the bright, saturated colors feel more springy when they could have otherwise threatened to be a bit more on the summer side. I'm not sure how I feel about your choice to use the ripped paper border, it feels a bit distracting having such a jagged edge when everything in your picture is soft, it would be nice to have seen a version of this without the border or with a more pastel color filter to make the border a little less of a stark contrast. Your glamour is very pretty (My favorite glam of the round!) and fits in with your surroundings nicely without letting you fall into the background, nicely done!

Luma Lee: The colors in this picture are so nice, and I love the framing with the flowers and tree! My one gripe is that I feel that you're so far to the right that the left side of the screen feels a little empty. I really do like how this image feels though, like you're so happy to be looking at these flowers under a warm spring sky, good job this week! 

 Yojimbo Kasai: This photo is calm in a way that says spring to me, but the colors and the lack of any flowers or obviously green foliage make it feel a little cold. I'm torn between feeling like this image is early spring, or a warm summer's day, I really wish there was some more foliage around to really drive that spring vibe home for me. Your pose and the way you're framed in the picture are nice though, it makes me feel like pulling up a lawn chair and joining you in what I imagine is a very pleasant afternoon nap!

Yomu Kazul: Spring is the season of love, and that is what your picture looks to be all about! I love the concept of the botanist being seduced by the spring nymph, its a unique take on the theme and you did a good job with it. Your position is obviously front and center with your extra blending in with the scenery nicely without completely disappearing, the colors are nicely balanced, and you're both framed well in the shot. Nice job! 

Haila Wetyios: The colors in this shot are very nice and vibrant, and your choice to use red was bold and sets you apart from most of the other contestants! When it comes to your pose and position in the frame, I like that it feels like you're welcoming the viewer to your spring garden, but I wish you'd positioned yourself in a more intentional looking way, right now you're inhabiting the space between center and 1/3d and it feels a little awkward to me. I like that you set up your garden for this shot and made sure it felt springy, and I feel like with a little bit of fiddling around with your surroundings and your position you'd have an even nicer image on your hands.

Judge Ona

Haila, my love! How beautiful you look in this image! Surrounded by such lush vegetation and greenery! You absolutely fit the role of Balmung’s flower lady! I absolutely love the variety of color and the outfit choice as well!

Things to consider: If you’re going to do a dead centered shot, make sure its exactly centered, otherwise it can just create just enough of a feeling of disquiet causing the image to appear weaker. Also, having the roses next to you with just a tiny bit of blurring, would have made you stand out much more.

Things I love: Your glamour is spot on for a spring scenic theme. I also love how you created a scene that highlights so many beautiful colors, and still allows you to be the focus of the image. The time spent to create the scene has helped to fit your own narrative, while also following the theme of the round.

Haila, it was wonderful to be able to be on this side of the table for this round of Tumblr and to be able to give you my critiques on your beautiful images.

Peaceful: You look absolutely adorable here Peaceful. I want to be sitting next to you smelling those wonderful flowers. I hate to say it, but you are the definition of Peaceful here.

Things to consider: When given the prompt of scenic, it is ok to include more of the background and have yourself be less of the focus. That being said, your use of the frame here, takes away from the overall image, and really the image would have been stronger without it. I would also caution you to use the sharpening tool wisely, as you are blurrier than the foreground flowers. This, unfortunately caused you to be less of the focus, putting the focus on the flowers and not you.

 Things I love: I love how you dyed your clothes to match the color of the flowers. I also love your pose and expression. It really creates that calming feeling that I feel spring flowers deserve. Lastly, kneeling in front of the tree added an additional level of texture and dimension to the image.

 Thank you for turning in such beautiful images this cycle and really taking a chance with your big Roe self. I have enjoyed following your progress and hope to compete against you in the future.

Yomu: When I first looked at your image, I was utterly confused. What is this 70’s show scene doing here and why is Yomu love drunk. Then I saw the girl in the background. I guess you’re taking after Bambi and are officially twitterpated.

 Things to consider: Your extra blends in a lot. Because of this, I didn’t understand your emote. If the viewer isn’t analyzing the image, it may not be as strong as it could be. I would also try to keep all glam consistent, especially if you’re going for a theme in your image. Maybe try to put your extra in the same clothing style as your character next time.

 Things I love: Your glam. You picked such a difficult theme to get right, but you pulled it off. And honestly, I have NEVER seen anyone use this hair style! The location is beautiful, and it definitely fits the overall Scenic Spring feel

Yomu, it has been so wonderful being able to see your images improve through the competition. I would love to see you try another cycle and continue to improve your images!

Ni’Ko: Another beautiful image Ni’ko, and finally a chance for you to use that signature color of yours. I would have expected nothing less of you then to find the most purple field and take the most purple picture you could get.

Things to consider: You have this very obvious purple theme, yet are wearing bright green pants. The blue butterfly seems a bit out of place as well. It blends too much, while also being this completely odd color that doesn’t quite match the rest of the image.

Things I love: Your pose is perfect for a cat who actually enjoys the rain. I also love that you chose rain showers for your image. Although we think of bright cheery flowers for the spring, we need to remember the importance of the rain through the spring and. I also love how you chose to do this image at night. It is definitely a different approach to Springtime then the other models. It was an excellent choice to say the least!

As you already know Ni’ko, it has been a pleasure to be your judge this cycle, and I cannot wait to compete against you in future rounds!

Judge Nadede

Adam Evershot:  What wouldn’t be spring without a walk out in nature, taking in the fresh air of spring and seeing everything growing back anew. It is one of my favorite parts of spring actually. While a lovely shot, I feel that it is a bit on the overlit side, possibly due to a combination of outdoor lighting, filter and any extra lighting (if any) you used. You’ll just have to play around via trial and error to get the lighting to where it doesn’t look too washed out. That said, I do wish that there was some form of rim lighting used, especially around your head as it blends in with the tree and rock in the background. Nice job all-in-all and very glad to see you improving big time from last cycle to this.

Luma Lee: One thing that I enjoy about spring, all the pretty flowers that are in bloom. Not too bad of a job from you this week. The bottom half of your image, the lighting I feel is nicely done. The top half though is blown out from the sun being right over you, giving you that blinding flash of light in your image that is a bit distracting. From how your shot is set up, I feel as if though something should be in the foreground, like a minion or a bug that you’re trying to find in the flowers. Something like that would have given your image more of a story to tell. Just something to keep in mind, how can I tell a story within my image? Overall though, you’ve shown improvement throughout the cycle and feel that you’ve taken in from feedback given. Good job.

Yomu Kazul:  Looking at your image, I was trying to figure out as to why you seem head over heels in love. Took quite a few times looking at your image and then I saw her, the forest nymph (?) in the background. It is an interesting play on the theme “Spring Fever” as it looks as if you are feverishly in love. Lighting around you I feel is pretty good. I do wish that your nymph had some lighting around her so that she didn’t blend in so well with grass. It took me a bit to even see her and wish I could’ve seen her sooner. Overall I think you did pretty well this week and throughout the cycle. You seemed pretty consistent in my book. Great work.

Kota Tumet:  Such a lovely portrait of you this week. Your lighting, glamour, filter and pose compliments each other very well this week. Even the DoF (depth of field) is nicely done. This would be the epitome of what springtime means to me as it is something I try to do when possible (next to spring walks).Sitting outside, soaking in the sun with sketchbook, a good book in hand or have just music playing.  I can say compared to your image from week 1 until now, all I can see is a vast improvement on your shots (I was blown away from last week’s image btw). Should be proud of yourself and keep up the great work.

Judge Terrini

Adam: This is a very pleasant stroll through the shroud and you have great framing here. I do have a couple of nitpicks here, one being the tower in the distance being a little hard to see, it would have a bit more impact if you could have had that a bit more prominent, the other thing being that your chosen filter seems to leave the shot's colors a bit uninspired. Something that made the colors pop more would have suited the warm colors in my opinion. It may have also brought out the yellow of your hair more instead of let your head fade a little into the background. 

Haila: You seem to be all out into spring planting and I like that impression. The colors are really bright and bold but I would have liked to see you a bit more involved with the garden setting than simply being "welcome to my home." Also the choice of orange-red in your outfit makes the orange-red autumn trees in the background a bit more prominent and underwhelms the spring theme. A bolder red to match the roses or a more pastel or neutral color would have tied things together and downplayed the hint of autumn behind you. 

Kota: Such a pastoral place to sit down and relax. I love the garden you found to take a seat in so much, but I think it might have been nice to have an outfit that was a slightly more pronounced pink or even a blue to tie in with the sky as you do fade a bit into the beautiful scenery. Besides that though, definitely a very strong shot overall. Lovely composition. 

Yojimbo: I love this pose and the trees surrounding you are quite lovely, but the colors and contrasts do not leave me thinking spring. The abundance of white is more reminiscent of winter, the blue striped lounge is a hint of summer and the brown of your outfit seems more akin to fall. On top of this, your depth of field is focused on your torso when it would be best suited to be more focused on your face and arm in the forground. Individually I love all the elements here, but they do not come together well to fit the spring theme.

Judge Wulf

Well, you did it! You’ve reached the end of an ENTM cycle! I’m very happy and proud of all of you, and while I’m not fully able to give a personal message to each of you, I want you each to know how proud I am of you for following critiques, growing, and improving! You’ve made this another fun cycle for me to judge, and I can’t wait to see where you all go from here!

LUMA The first thing I really want to praise you for here how very in-focus the foreground is, and how much having those close-up plants really enhances the picture! The lighting is so bright here, and that’s a wonderful thing to communicate the feeling of spring. I feel warm and fuzzy all over just looking at this picture, and I’d say it’s one of your best so far! The up angle you have along with you crouching down makes me feel like I’m seeing this from the POV of a caterpillar or flower. I’m very happy with how far you’ve come throughout this cycle, and I want you to keep exploring new and creative ways to tell your story!

NI’KO You always have a knack for turning a theme on its head and showing me what I least expect, and this week is no exception! Yes, everything is dark and lacking the usual colors that one associates with spring, but in this picture? I am totally on board with it! The butterfly really stands out as a color contrast against everything else in the picture, including you! It’s a clash I can’t take my eyes off, and I’m willing to bet that’s the point! Also, after so much change, you’ve chosen to come to the final round in your signature Ni’ko look, which I certainly missed! Keep bringing your unique ideas to whatever you do I look forward to how you surprise us in the future!

PEACEFUL I love this frame – so much. It makes anything look like it was taken out of an old storybook. You do an excellent job with using this frame  to create interesting edges to your photo. Your photo itself this week is also one of your strongest. You’ve clearly been listening when it comes to lighting, motion, and angles! One thing I super love about your photo this week is how you’ve made yourself compliment your surroundings – the purples and blues on you really serve to blend yourself in with the lavender around you! Peaceful, you’ve really improved over these past eight rounds, and I can’t wait to see you go further! Remember all you’ve learned this cycle, and make sure you keep trying new things!

YOJIMBO I can hear the soft piano and the breeze that accompanies this picture. I also think I hear the ocean, given a bit of your attire! Seriously, this picture is so relaxing! You very much take up most of the frame, but you’ve got a lot of little details on the edges that clue us into the full picture of what’s going on here. The blue sky, the corner of the umbrella, the tree branches, and the little bit of bench all come together and we fill the rest of it in with our mind. This is a good example of not needing to show everything, only what’s necessary. You’ve done an excellent job this cycle, and I hope you stick with us and keep showing us what you’ve got!

[darling-i-fancy-you]

Colour Soulmate AU - Jughead X OC

[A/N: Finally I’m back! However not with the stuff you wanted or asked for, I am a terrible writer. This is a little rough around the edges but hey-ho! 

Okay so this is going to be an anthology series of different pairings (any and all pairings) finding their soulmates and I’m going to be using a multitude of different soulmate tropes! Starting with the soulmate AU, I apologise that this is really wordy but I had to get in all the different elements of what a soulmate consists of. I also plan on probably keeping each post as a one-shot which is maybe a little mean but I kind of like how I ended this one, let me know what you think! Also American readers please excuse my English-isms.]

Word Count: 1895

The sleepy town of Riverdale was illuminated with lights and colours, Pop’s Chok-Lit-Shoppe flashed a warm neon red, reflecting against the hoods of the cars that sat parked outside in the cold dark chill. The words Twilight Drive-In sat prettily against a dark blue backdrop held above the rusting letters ‘Closing Soon’, the abandoned sign creaked under the pressure of a strong wind that struck it heavily. The large Town Hall stood proudly painted in the freshest of lemon colours, the shadows of the night illuminated the deceitful corruption that lay hidden behind the closed doors.

A gang of teenagers occupied the space in one of booths at the diner, Archie Andrews with his flaming locks of auburn hair, Betty Cooper with her glistening emerald eyes, Veronica Lodge and her sultry red lipstick, Jughead Jones wearing his infinitely present grey beanie, and Erica Mars undoubtedly plain with her dull brown hair and eyes to match.

You were considered lucky if you could view the world with its full spectrum of colours, if you could notice the difference between the light pink that hummed with the rise of the sunset and the cold blue that descended upon the misty town of Riverdale as the sun set. Seeing the hues of the world meant one thing, that you had met your soulmate.

For some it was one look at a stranger, maybe from across the room, a quick glance or a longing stare and suddenly the greyscale that was at once omnipresent bled with colour. Sometimes it was with one blink and the harsh brightness of the golden sun would blind them. It had been recorded on a number of occasions that colours would begin to make themselves present one by one, over a number of months or years. One day the person in question looked at someone who had been there all along and noticed the flecks of greens that dotted their crystal blue eyes; finally the collection of colours now complete.  

The fateful night that brought Veronica Lodge into Pop’s Chok-Lit-Shoppe was also the very night that Betty Cooper saw the world in its rightful way. Cued by the chime of the bell above the door, Archie’s jaw hang slack, Betty whipped her head around to view the black swan that glided into the diner, donned in a long black cape, with the dress, shoes and bag to match. If it hadn’t been for the signature red lipstick that was deftly applied to Ronnie’s supple lips, the young blonde girl may not have realised that her life had just been monumentally altered. The red hue of Pop’s diner reflected in the whites of Betty’s eyes, her golden hair sitting atop of her head as though it was a halo.

‘Hi,’ Veronica smiled down at Betty with her deep and warm brown eyes.

Archie continued to converse with Veronica, oblivious as to what was transpiring between the two girls. Betty stared on at Ronnie in astonishment, any and all words caught on her tongue, that was until Pop returned with an order for Lodge and the raven-haired teen disappeared into the nightfall. From that moment, life as Betty Cooper had known it had changed, in a twist of fate she had the met the one person currently walking the earth that was made entirely for her.

Yes, you were lucky if you could see the world in colour, you were lucky if when you stared back into the eyes of your beloved you saw the world, you were the luckiest if they saw it reflected back into their own eyes, but what about when they didn’t?

-

Erica Mars was eight years old when she first saw the world in colour. Running through the playground of Riverdale Elementary, the whole class was involved in a mass game of ‘tag’ and a tall Reggie Mantle was close on the back of her heels. She ran as fast as she could, weaving through the crowds of kids until she felt his tough hard hands on her back, he had caught up with her and pushed her as hard as he could before shouting.

‘Tag you’re it!’

He laughed as he ran into the crowd, leaving Erica flat on the floor, her knees stinging with the fresh pain caused by concrete gazing the tender skin of her knees.

‘Are you okay?’ A soft voice from above asked.

Erica looked up at a young boy, if she could see in colour there wouldn’t have been much to admire, he was dressed from head to toe in array of blacks and greys, even his hair was a black as the night sky. Erica held back a sniffle, determined not to cry over a little cut, she nodded firmly and looked at the hand that boy had offered out to her.

‘Reggie’s a jerk.’ He muttered.

Erica let out a watery laugh and the boy above her smiled. She looked down to the graze on her knee and almost recoiled in shock, tiny beads of red liquid oozed from the stinging graze. Her gaze turned curiously back to the young boy standing in front of her, his hand still outstretched, tentatively she took it.

‘I’m Jughead Jones,’ he smiled, ‘the third.’

‘Erica – Erica Mars.’

She kept the little secret to herself, at the tender age of eight she wasn’t very sure what to do with the information, so she hid the fact that she could see both the bright and dull colours of the world. She hid it from her parents, her teachers, her friends and most definitely hid it from Jughead Jones.

In their youth Erica was uninterested in pursuing anything romantic with the boy the universe had decidedly marked as her soulmate, she couldn’t deny however that she felt inherently drawn to him. After their first real encounter at Riverdale Elementary the two children were as thick as thieves, Erica was happily welcomed into the small group that originally consisted of Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper, and it only expanded as the years went on.

As those years passed by however the pressure of finding your soulmate grew, Betty constantly gushed throughout middle school about the day when she would meet her soulmate and how finally the complicated ‘pieces of the puzzle that was life’ would fall into place. At one point she would admit that she had hoped it was Archie. She imagined one day waking up and staring across at him from her bedroom window, the wooden panels framing his bedroom window would appear a serene yellow, the trees on either side of their fences would blossom with vibrant green leaves and his rich dark red hair would messily fall in front of his eyes as he sent her a boyish smile. Each morning she woke however and was still presented with the same grey dilemma.

Despite her disheartenment at the prospect of never finding her true love she would still coo and romanticise over the notion. In response Erica would feign excitement at the possibilities of one day meeting her match, unwilling to let on that she could see how the sun reflected on the golden crown of Betty Cooper and how Archie Andrews’ hair held many shades of red depending on the time of day.

Jughead Jones would always say the same thing regarding his soulmate.

‘The day I see in colour is the day Pop makes a burger that is too big for me to eat.’

Together the group would laugh at his sarcastic humour, yet Erica couldn’t deny the first time he had spoken about soulmates along those lines she felt more then a little crushed.

‘He still saw in black and white.’ She thought to herself.

She had never really fooled herself into believing that she and Jughead could be anything more than the best of friends, but of course over time her personal feelings had shifted. She noticed more often how his icy blue eyes would light up at a particularly well-timed joked, she admired the way his dark hair would stick to his snow-like skin after a light shower of rain, and she couldn’t help how her gaze would meet his lips as he sat obliviously in the corner of the booth, invested in his own words. She had hoped one day, much like Betty, that Jughead would walk into Pop’s and suddenly he’d see the pale pink of the strawberry milkshake that sat waiting for him and just behind that he’d see his best friend, Erica Mars, in all the colours that the world had to offer.

Unfortunately, in some sorry yet not unheard of cases, people would meet their soulmates but by a cruel twist of fate they would find that their soulmate was not looking for them. There was someone else out there for them, someone better suited, someone who would bring them more happiness than the other possibly could. Heartbreaking stuff of course, yet all too true. This appeared to be the case for one Erica Mars, ever the optimist however, she revelled in the wholesome friendship that Jughead Jones gave to her so willingly, and silently she thanked him for opening her eyes to the beauty that world had to offer.

-

In the booth at Pop’s, Archie was questioning Betty and Ronnie about the hues and saturations of everything and anything, eagerly making notes in the notebook that was dedicated to his music. Erica took a quiet moment to reflect on the brooding boy that sat in the corner of the booth, as of lately he always appeared to be hunched over his laptop screen. The electronic blues and whites of the screen drained what little colour he had from his face and accentuated the newly ever present purple circles under his eyes. He bit on his pale pink lips, speckled with dried white flakes of skin from the constant chewing and chapped from the cold winds of Riverdale. A question from Archie drew Erica away from her intense and concerned studying.

‘What colour eyes does Erica have?’

Betty, who sat to her left, drew her hands underneath Erica’s chin, directing her face towards her and gazed studiously into her eyes.

‘Well,’ she began, ‘at first they look like they could just be brown,’ Betty smiled thoughtfully, ‘but then if you look a little closer you can see hints of gold flakes shimmering just underneath the surface.’

Erica smiled gently back at the face of Betty Cooper. Never had she considered her eyes as anything other than murky pools of brown water, boring and dull, unable to capture the attention of the one person that universe had marked as hers. To think of them as glistening with leaves of gold-  

‘You forgot the green.’

The sound of Jughead’s fingers hitting heavily against the keyboard was the only sound that could be heard through the deafening silence that followed. Archie and Veronica whipped their heads around to search for the owner of the voice.

‘What?’ Betty laughed incredulously.

‘How would you know?’ Veronica’s brow furrowed.

The typing ceased suddenly, the weight of his words lay heavily on his shoulders and his heart, his best kept secret had been revealed in an instant. His fingers locked, as did his jaw, his back teeth ground in self-disgust and tightly he closed his eyes.

‘Jughead, can you see in colour?’

Tag List:

@nadya0128 @audreyxhorne @superoriginalteenwolf @sparklingriverdale @livierinforeva @iwannadiehere  @lostinpercyseyes @every-day-is-wednesday @mysticmurder @assonanceambiance@murderyoursoul @fuck-i-dont-care-anymore’t-care-anymore @satanwithstardust @itsjaynebird@phanofmydreams @pendletonthethird @doktorswho @frickflop @kingpendleton @an-enigmatic-avenger @captainjacksparkles @casismyguardianangel @lost-in-wonderland-x @the-winter-imagines @multiversegalaxygirl @lumiele @ineedtoorganizemybookshelf @florenceivy@yazminmcd @wishingtobelost @gottalovetheapocalypse @httpjugheadjones@whatsbetterthanfantasy @shameless-danni @caitsymichelle13 @iamthe80strash  @ri-verdale@divastar777 @mcheung0314 @jamiemcrimmon @imanangelyouidjit@virusiswhatiam@chilloutenya @kashfghjkl @fizzylollipop12@imperfectanatomy 

[sjohnsonjohnson]

Virtual Sketchbook #2

Journaling 

1) I interpret directional forces to be the visual cue the artist adds to draw our focus to a mail point. I feel that the swirl of the bubbles follows a natural tornado pattern until we arrive with our eyes at the centre of the piece. 

Kaila Lance. Bubble Room Mandala. Directional Forces. https://www.etsy.com/listing/581801486/dot-mandala-painting-6x6-inch-art-by?show_sold_out_detail=1&ref=nla_listing_details

2) This painting has three different focal points, things such as the birds and trees give it unity. The tree in the middle and at the sides of the painting provide balance to the piece. The triangle formed with implied lines also pulls the piece together. I think this is a wonderful example of variety that is unified in its message. 

The Maiden, The Mother, and The Crone. By Dawn Of the Shed. Unity and Variety. https://fineartamerica.com/featured/the-maiden-the-mother-and-the-crone-dawn-of-the-shed.html

3) The artist could balance the slender proportions of the lady with the big sleeves. I feel it makes her pop instead of disappearing into the background. I think the columns also frame the piece and provide structure. The red curtain draws the eye and balances the cool blue sky to the left. No part of the piece distracts from the other. 

Molly, Duchess Of Nona by Frank Cadogan Cowper. Balance.

https://www.artrenewal.org/artworks/molly-duchess-of-nona-maurice-howletts-little-novel-of-italy/frank-cadogan-cowper/52531

4) I think this picture is an outstanding example of a focal point that is brought into the foreground and the elements behind are subdued and blurry. There is no double of what figure the photographer was trying to emphasise. 

Family picture by a local photographer. Owned by myself. Emphasis and subordination.

5) All the colors are all part of a color scheme and of similar shade. The figures are all facing one way and the diagonals of the rifles are leaning in the same direction, providing rhythm. Our eyes naturally follow the men to the right, like they are marching in that direction. I think the similar shapes and lines of the men and their accessories are examples of repetition. 

May Day, Moscow. By Diego Rivera. Repetition and rhythm. https://www.moma.org/collection/works/85342

6) I love this piece because the idea of scale and proportion are mixed. It is hard to grasp if the angle of the photo is possibly distorting the size of the hand or if the hand is giant in reality.. The hand is enormous so in comparison the man looks tiny. I love how the photo would be unbalanced if the hand and arm were in proper proportion.

Sculptures by Gerardo Feldstein. scale and proportion. https://mymodernmet.com/gerardo-feldstein-sculpture

Composition Recipe- Writing and Looking

Portrait of a Girl with a Bussola, by Rosalba Carriera

The composition of this piece seems very simple at first glance but I feel that may have been the point of the artist. The background matches her eyes, and this is the key point in the recipe. The rest of the colors are of the same scheme except the eyes. When you look at this photo, you cannot look anywhere else, the eyes pull you in. Just in case the eyes don't catch you right at first, the implied lines of the triangle formed by the body will cause you to go from the bottom of the piece to the eyes. At first I did not think the piece had variety, but once I tore my gaze from the eyes I noticed all the minor design elements of the dress and the necktie, little pieces that give a little spice to the recipe. I love the use of pastels since it seems so lifelike and the colors are rich and yet the edges are soft. The lightness and shading around the hair give the perspective of depth. I love all the angels which give the viewer a look deeper into the piece instead of having the girl sit head on to the painting. Overall, the palate is light, yet rich with a smooth texture. This dish is a win in my book.

CONNECTING ART TO YOUR WORLD

The hue that has affected my life the most is green. I dream about a green that is so bright yet deep. The saturation of green is so intense that you want to cry. A green that glistens because it has had an abundance of rain to quench it. There would be no tint or hue, no black to middle or white to pale. I want to be surrounded by this green. It is the dream of going to this green place that will someday be a reality. Ireland. 

ART PROJECT–ARTIST’S CHOICE

I painted a silhouette of a unicorn with an acrylic medium.. I used my three favorite blended colors. Together they remind me of a beautiful sunset. I used magenta, phalo blue and dioxazine purple, and I used titanium white to tint the background colors. I tried to make the silhouette symmetrical with a chalk outline, but that is a shortcoming of mine. I used mars black for the outline. This is a meaningful painting to me because I love unicorns. I also use videos or templates typically to paint so although it seems simple, I'm not confident in my creative ability so I was happy this came all from my imagination. On a personal note, this painting meant a lot to me because it was my first in a long time. As a full time working mother, wife and now student, I feel guilty every time I want to paint. I always feel like there is something more important to do and I push my hobby aside. I am so happy that it was literally an assignment that I had to paint, and I loved every minute.

PHOTO/DESIGN- Group Discussion

(Group 1)

I wanted to pick logos that were not transient in my life but those that I truly identify with because they are in my life. A list of the logos in my surroundings: Tyson, Silk, Ninja, TCL, Eggo, Xbox, Tropicana, Zyrtec, Equate, Nike, Green Valley, Lysol, LG, Old Navy, Google, Kettle, Up & Up, Publix, Aveeno, Crest, Kirkland, Suave, Whirlpool, GE, Pacific Foods, Tidy Cats, Bob's Red Mill, Fruit of the Loom, Hyundai, Crayola, Elmers, Expo.  

How do you know about these logos? This is an interesting question. The answer seems simple, because these are the products I use. Then I thought, do I know them because I use them or would I know them because they are so mainstream. You may not drink orange juice but the logo of Tropicana is well known. I know these logos because I have been living in a society for 37 years with these logos in many forms; commercial, print, or radio. I understand the value of a logo in a way of trust. When I see a logo, I recognize and I have experience with that brand. I feel a sense of trust with that complaint or product. I personally value an easily recognizable logo as well.

[hackles12]

A True Event Involving Lunar Sand Dollars

    It has been some time since I have been able to find myself at a desk, longer still since I have been privileged with all the comforts of home; a tea cup warmed to the brim with fragrant ginger sweetness, a bright and encouraging lamp to read by, the soft tick tick tick of my great grandmother’s clock hung carefully on the wall. Perhaps most of all I’ve missed the soft, cradling assurance of my bed (although were I writing this letter to any number of others I would simply call this a jest and claim that I missed the people most. I am, however, writing to you.) To call this a digression would be an awful segway to my real purpose in writing you, however that is the route I will choose.     These months past I had been staying with an obscure author (who will, for the better of all, remain unnamed) that was writing on the subject of stones. More specifically, this author depicted different types of stones as being born from different celestial bodies. Rubies, of the Sun, hematite of Mercury, topaz of Venus, jasper of Mars, and so forth. The idea being that each planet in our known solar system has a corresponding precious stone that can be found here on Earth. The author mentioned that their work involved a lot of research by way of debate. They rattled off dozens of names before making their point; not one of the individuals interviewed carried the same views on the creation of stones. I questioned Author, why would you make a bother of talking to all of these people when none could possibly know the truth? And how could any of us know the truth, I supposed. Author simply looked at me. I looked back, before turning away for fear that Author might kick me out of the house altogether at such a notion. ‘The truth,’ Author began, ‘is that there is no truth.’ I was puzzled, but nodded my encouragement for Author to continue, but instead they looked out the window, seemingly defeated. “And anyways without people like me to ask the questions, the truth wouldn’t much matter. It is only through curiosity that understanding carries any weight at all,” they recited as if from a script, suddenly aloof about the subject. Author was always difficult to decipher throughout our time together. Always asking, always questioning. Why is something I never bothered to ask. Author eventually decided that their work regarding the nature of stones was altogether too bewildering to pursue any further. I began to wonder whether I had wasted my time, and decided that perhaps I, too, should move on from this disappointing and seemingly fruitless chapter. I had made up my mind to leave that night. Author’s cottage was near the beach. There was one road that linked the cottage and a small village that I had never made a point of visiting. Behind the cottage, through a stretch of brackish marsh, was a flat and sandy beach. It wasn’t common to hear much of anything coming from that beach, day or night, as the water was often too calm to make any real waves, and the birds seemingly avoided the area altogether. Author had never mentioned the beach in passing, nor had I ever asked about it. There was one small, overgrown path that was tucked behind an imposing arbutus tree that could be made out faintly during the day, and I supposed that I would be able to find it at night just as well. After all, the moon was in perigee that same evening (Author had made a habit of mentioning the lunar phases numerous times throughout the day as a sort of warning about touching stones being cleansed during the evening.) I gathered my few belongings from my small room (like a cupboard) at the back of the cottage, slipped on my then worn and beaten loafers, and took one more look. (At what I’m not sure, but it felt proper to say goodbye in that way to my host, and to the cottage.) The path was easy enough to find, despite the yard being remarkably dark that evening. I had imagined things would be brighter that night, lit up and blue as a full moon allows for. It wasn’t until I stepped out of the dark trail lined by tall maples that I was able to see. And my God, could I see. The flat, saturated beach, the lethargic breath of the ocean as the black water crept up as far as its lungs would allow before returning, just as slowly to the body. Like the breath of someone sleeping. My eyes wandered to the sky. Thick, great, billowing clouds of freshly fluffed cotton stretched far out to sea above the water, and there was no telling where they ended. The moon hung white and silver high in the stars, freshly minted. I began to walk towards it, slowly but not cautiously. Entranced, I took step after step towards the moon, following its trail of light reflected on the wet beach like a path to the heavens. I stopped just short of the water, afraid that if I were to touch it purposefully I might melt and become part of it. I watched as the ocean’s breath spun lazily around my feet, seemingly for hours, before it withdrew again. It was the ocean who met me, I thought. That’s why I didn’t melt. Then I spotted something as the surf subsided. Pale and blue, with a dark pattern in the center. I bent down and picked up the thin, weighty disc. I wiped off the muck and examined it closely. It was around the size of the palm of my hand, and heavy with mud and water inside. A delicate flower was poked perfectly into the top of it, as if perhaps something had filled those holes before. Orange contrasted the blue light from the moon and I could make out small veins on the bottom of the thing. I stared for some time before a breath woke me from my resting gaze. A sand dollar. It was a sand dollar, obviously. I couldn’t seem to identify it just a moment ago, but the cold water started me out of my daydream. A much larger sand dollar than any I’d seen, but a sand dollar still. I looked around. Dozens of them seemed to appear with each of the ocean’s inhalations, and dozens more disappeared each time it exhaled. I stepped deftly towards them, gathering as many as I could before the ocean replaced them with others farther off. I must have spent hours collecting them, because eventually I found myself miles from my belongings where I suppose I set them down when the beauty of the night seduced me. It didn’t seem like it had been hours, not how it sometimes seems when you’re waiting for time to pass. It had been ten minutes, maybe fifteen. When I made it back to my timepiece, the hands read four o’clock and five minutes. But what time had I left the cottage? Midnight? I decided to take the road, then, to the village. Safer, that. I could keep a focus on what I was meant to be doing, and perhaps I’d even find a place to stay there until I could make arrangements to return home. I was at a kindly washerwoman’s house for only a day before I received a letter from Author notifying me that there would be a carriage headed east passing outside of the village that night, and if I would like they could make arrangements for me to be on it. Of course Author would have known had I actually left. The letter was no surprise. I thought about returning to the cottage, to speak with Author, or to apologize for the way I left, although I knew that Author didn’t much care about all of that. So instead I simply responded that yes, that would be agreeable thank you very much. I made my way to where the washerwoman had claimed the carriage would arrive (an hour’s walk to the nearest major thoroughfare), and arrive it did. The rest is trivial, and here I am now writing this to you. I suppose the purpose of this recounting is more for my own relief. The events that night were so strange, and still I have with me the twenty or thirty Lunar sand dollars that survived the travels since that night. Perhaps there isn’t anything remarkable about large sand dollars found on the eve of the moon’s perigee. Others have told me as much. But rather than continue to try and explain these events to those who don’t hold a scrap of faith about supernatural events, I decided I ought to write it down for someone to read who might believe what I have to say. These are not ordinary sand dollars. They were created by the ocean’s breath and the moon’s silver blue light and the wet beach’s dark sands. I don’t believe they were ever alive, but rather that they are relics of an earthly soul; of a Mother Nature, or of a Gaia -- whatever name you give it. I believe there are other relics, and because of that strange night, I intend to find them. I will write to you when I return home again, although I’m not sure that it will be any time soon. I’m not sure what exactly I’m looking for, but when I find the next relic I will send word as soon as can be allowed. Nov 14th 2016

[joya34blanco]

Tips for How to Think and Use Lightroom More Artistically

Each time I process one of my images I do it in a totally different way. This might sound strange to you. I feel that often articles about image processing are riddled with ideas about formulas and essential steps. But for me, this totally goes against everything I believe about photography.

If you want to make creative images there is no one formula that you can apply to all photographs, or all genres. There are no essential steps that you must follow for every single image.

Why there is no magic formula

To say there is one formula is like saying there is one for making great art, and if we followed it then we’d all be great artists. But that is looking at it from the wrong angle. That’s asking for something outside of you to make you perform well. In fact, the only chance (literally the only) any of us have of taking great photographs, is to allow the most unique parts of ourselves to flow out.

Now, that’s not to say I don’t have some great advice for you. I do! It is, though, based on my philosophy that every image is unique. This is not a paint by numbers experience – so processing must be approached in a fresh, new way every single time.

Before processing

Like a lot of photos there are a few different ways I could have gone about this. Processing, like the act of taking photos, is a totally subjective experience. That’s most of the fun!

Unlike the other photos I’ve featured in this article, which were all taken on the same beautiful morning in Hampstead Heath in London, in this photo I didn’t want to have that misty fog in the photo. It didn’t work for me with the vibrant colours of the leaves. So instead I enhanced that deep colour and gave the leaves a strong contrast with the dark branches.

To me this is more of a natural look, what you would see when you are out in the woods. I used the HSL module to saturate the colour channels individually with a little Clarity in the basic module. It didn’t really take a big push to make a big change.

After processing.

“The reason that art (writing, engaging, and all of it) is valuable is precisely why I can’t tell you how to do it. If there were a map, there’d be no art, because art is the act of navigating without a map.” – Seth Godin

Take a unique approach for each image

You wouldn’t shoot all of your images at the same shutter speed would you? When you are out taking photos, even if you shoot on full auto, you respond to both the subject and the lighting conditions around you. You adjust and work with what is there. That’s the same approach you need to take when processing your images.

I like to think of processing an image like creating a painting. It’s an organic, subjective, unstructured process that finds me going back and forth between the tools, using a little of this, a little of that, until I am able see something that I want.

Before processing.

This image already has all of the elements for a good photo. There is atmospheric light that you can truly feel, and the composition of the bare wild tree on its own is strong. So what I focussed on in the processing was to bring out the colours and enhance the atmosphere ad feeling of cold, bleak and misty. Plus I thought a blue/orange split tone would look cool and topping it off with some grain would make it a have a feel of nostalgia…I’m very nostalgic about trees (childhood thing).

After processing in Lightroom.

“You must forget all your theories, all your ideas before the subject. What part of these is really your own will be expressed in your expression of the emotion awakened in you by the subject.” –  Henri Matisse

How can you apply this to your photography?

My approach might sound a tad unhelpful – I mean if I can’t tell you the formula, the five steps to success, the three keys everyone needs, how can you learn? Well, my approach may take longer to learn, but you will end up with much stronger images. You’ll create images that are powerful, impactful, and unique to you.

Even though Lightroom is about learning a software program, I recommend you do not use it with a technical mindset. Use it with a creative, artistic mindset. Use it as you would a paintbrush, a pen or your camera. Remember we are creating – not solving an algebra problem here!

Before

After

What appealed to me here was the slightly mystical feel. It made me think that the path was leading to a circle of fairies. So my Lightroom work reflected that vision, and this is what I created (above right).I wanted a very surreal look. I used split toning in greens and blues, as well as a vignette, and brought out the blacks very intensely using the basic panel. What I ignored was the histogram, which was all squashed up to the right, but that doesn’t matter.

I wanted a very surreal look. I used split toning in greens and blues, as well as a dark edge vignette, and brought out the blacks very intensely using the basic panel. What I ignored was the histogram, which was all squashed up to the right, but that doesn’t matter. Art is always a bit chaotic, right?

Before and after step by step

This is a creative, organic, fun process. Once you’ve gone through all the Lightroom modules (if needed), don’t be afraid to go back and adjust and have a play.

So, I want to take you through the steps of how I processed an image in detail. I hope it sparks a lot of ideas for ways to help you process yours. I am going to take the photo from this, straight out of the camera:

Before image, straight out of the camera.

To this:

Finished image processed in Lightroom.

Connect to the image

Look at the image. What does it make you think of, feel or imagine? What qualities can you sense in the image that you can work with and draw out? The Lightroom tutorials you watch and read will tell you how to use sliders, etc., but they usually don’t tell you when to use them. This process of knowing when to use certain tools comes down to getting really involved in your image, and learning to use the inherent qualities of the photo to guide you.

This may sound obvious, but I think this is an essential step that most people miss. We are often so focused on getting it done, or getting the buttons ready to press, that we leave the artistic part of our mind and jump too quickly into the technical. So respond to the subject, the colors, and the mood of the photo. No blanket presets here, please!

Basic panel first

My next step with this image was with the Basic panel. Most images will start here because you may want to control the tones before starting on the color work. This image was really flat tonally so I wanted to boost the contrast by bringing down the shadows and raising the whites. You get much more specific control when you use the Highlights, Shadows, Whites and Blacks slider then you do with the Contrast slider above them. So here are the settings I applied:

Highlights -94

Shadows -50

Whites +50

Blacks -31

Saturation +50

Exposure -0.20

Contrast +19

Those changes produced the following result:

Now I have some good dark tones in the trees and some bright whites in the sky (all contained in the Histogram). Some Saturation gives me a good idea of what color the image would like to be (what direction it leans naturally). In this case, it’s blue.

Apply a Tone Curve

Next I decided to use the Curve panel for a bit more tonal change; bringing up the shadows and bringing down the highlights. Now the sky is richer and the dark areas are less muddy looking.

Dehaze

It was a really beautiful morning with the fog and trees, not to mention the fantastic bird (got lucky there!). That said, I was looking at this image and feeling that I wanted to bring out a lot more detail in the water and houses. The fog was great but I was pretty sure I could get more detail without a loss of atmosphere. My answer was Dehaze in the Effects module.

Dehaze is useful for images like this, but can be really super harsh if you are not careful. This image seemed to take a +44 without negative effects, like colour blocking and artefact creation so I left it there (see below).

Dehaze does tend to mess around with Saturation, which you can see here. But, eh, I liked it! What I was going for was removing some of the fog on the water and houses and that worked well. It also had the added effect of making the reflection of the trees in the water stand out.

Local adjustments

At this point I usually start to toggle modules on and off to see what happens. I thought the shadows of the trees on the right hand side could use a bit of detail so I made a mask with the brush tool to lighten them a bit. This also brightened up the sky behind the trees and made it all look less muddy. Then, I did the same for the reflection.

I really liked the fog on the water but I wanted the water to look crisp. So I used a graduated filter over it and put Clarity up to +74 and Exposure at +.60. I also changed the colour to match the blue sky. Now there is a lot more separation between the water and the reflection.

If I like my work up to a point I’ll make a snapshot so I can continue working on the image, but go back to that stage later if necessary. I’m pretty happy with it so far. Now is the time I would start toggling modules on and off again to see what needs adjusting.

Next, see below, I chose to use HSL (Hue/Saturation/Luminance) panel last just to boost specific colours, in this case the blues. (Not sure why now that I look at it…probably would do it all over again without the blue boost).

I did try lightening the tones in the trees, which look yellow but LR wasn’t having it and said that it was actually blue. Understandable, since there is such a blue cast over everything. The only yellow that could be targeted was that last tree on the far right. I end up with this:

Conclusion

Now – on the last note, Lightroom is never going to destroy your image or make permanent changes. Therefore you have endless opportunities to play and learn what is possible with this amazing world of processing. Processing is the second half of photography, taking the photo is just the first half. Now I encourage you to:

“Go and make interesting mistakes, make amazing mistakes, make glorious and fantastic mistakes. Break rules. Leave the world more interesting for your being here. Make. Good. Art.” – Neil Gaiman

I’d love to know what you think. Maybe you would have gone about processing this image totally differently? Maybe you like what I did, and maybe you don’t? Let me know, I would love to hear your thoughts.

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