the-hermit-reversed

[the-hermit-reversed]

Once Hermit (Nosferatu and built to be very social) tried to out gaslight, out gatekeep, out girl boss the La Sombra premogen. It ended with him getting his ass whooped verbally and him to accidentally reveal he's dating the soon-to-be Brujah premogen.

What’s something pathetic in a wet cat way about your kindred I wanna hear about them tripping over their shoelaces

[the-hermit-reversed]

You are my affliction.

[the-hermit-reversed]

Fan art by Ami Thompson

[the-hermit-reversed]

Bethany leaned into Max’s ear, said something, and then she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. One so fast that had Trigger not been paying attention; or the parent chaperones for that matter, would have missed it. Max turned a shade of red that Trigger had never seen before. She wiped off the lip gloss that accidently managed to get onto Max’s cheek and she pointed towards Trigger. Panic and alarms ran throughout his head. Oh no. What did she say to Max? Was Trigger caught? Max walked over with a big dumb grin. He looked like a chocolate bar actively melting in the summer. Max spoke over the deep bass of the music. “Dude this is going great! Bethany told me that there is a slow dance coming up, so she is going to find her date before it starts. Lorrain said that if we practice a slow dance together, they might let us get a slow dance with them.” Trigger’s mouth went dry. Great, another dance with Lorrain. Trigger managed to get his mouth working “I-I am up for a dance then. I-I mean to practice that is. If y-you want to” Every part of Trigger was trembling with anxiety and anticipation. A slow dance with Max. Not only that but their first slow dance. How would Max respond to this? Would he be able to read Trigger’s true intentions? Before Max got to respond a voice over the speakers boomed over the crowd “Hey there students! Get your dates! The first slow dance starts now!” Suddenly Max grabbed Trigger’s hand and yanked him to one of the corners of the dance floor. Trigger blindly followed as he was weaved through the crowd. As the music began Trigger stumbled trying to figure out where his hands were supposed to be. So did Max, but he locked his hands to Trigger’s waist. Trigger followed and put his hands on Max’s collarbones. Trigger’s heart raced. The two were awkwardly trying to lead each other at the same time. Eventually they got in rhythm. Trigger let Max lead and after several awkward glances at their feet they finally got it. Max’s eyes locked with Trigger’s. Trigger caught a glance of Bethany and Lorrain holding each other in a slow dance. It was a strange sight seeing them together. Didn’t they have dates they were dancing with? Trigger had more important things to pay attention to. His eyes sunk into the deep abyss of Max’s brown eyes. Trigger could feel that he was nervous too. As the world melted away around them Trigger gripped Max closer. There was a spark in Max’s eyes. Their breathing synchronized, rocking to and fro, everything began to click. In the darkness of the school gym they were slowly drawn closer together. The heat of their bodies warming through each other. The music began to fade for Trigger. Only the beating of his heart and deepness of his breath resonated through his ears. In the final beat of the song the two shared their first of many kisses.

Chapter 2: The Winter Dance

Trigger shut his locker after grabbing the hefty history book for his next class. His thoughts honed on the test that he was going to be taking later that afternoon in 6th period English. Which meant he was not expecting to see Max’s face waiting for him with his iconic sly smirk. In a more mythological age Max could have been some fox-trickster god with that look. Obviously startled, Trigger exclaimed “Jesus! Max! How long were you there?” Max’s expression shifted to a stern, almost pastorally demeanor, “You see, child, I was always with you. Something something son of God.” Both shared a laugh. Max continued in an energetic manner “Sooo, who are you taking to the dance?” Confused, Trigger raised an eyebrow in response. “You know! The winter dance! It's right around the corner!” Right, the winter dance. Trigger forgot about that. He thought that it was later this month, but in truth it was only a week from now. “Oh that, I hadn’t thought about who I would ask.” Trigger lied through his teeth. He had thought about it for quite some time. Years actually. “Come on man! There must be someone!” Max elbowed him gently, teasingly. Trigger felt himself starting to flush. Damn it. Max was too good at this. “Ah! There it is! You have been thinking about asking someone! You must tell me! Is it Mary? Maybe Grace? Ooh wait, no let me think.” Max paused to think, giving Trigger a moment to collect his thoughts. Maybe he could play with Max on this. Trigger had all the cards in his hand. Trigger smirked “you caught me. I have been thinking, but just have not asked them yet.” Max’s eyes lit up. “Ha! Them! So there are more than one! Ooh you sly ladykiller!” Trigger rolled his eyes containing his amusement. “I’ll also give you a hint. You have not said their name yet either.” Max pondered on this for some time as they navigated through the hallways. “Anna must be one of them. She’s totally into you. I’ve seen the eyes she makes at you in class.” Trigger twisted his head towards Max “Wait, what? The exchange student from France? You must be joking. She thinks I am weird.” “That’s how the French show that they're interested in you dude!” Trigger huffed exhaustively. “Max, just because your uncle has been to Europe doesn’t make him a trustworthy source of how Europeans act.” Max shriveled his face into a pout. “You are honestly not making this an easy guess.” The light from a nearby window briefly caught Max’s strawberry blonde hair in the sun. Time slowed down for Trigger. Oh, how much he wished could have had a camera to capture the image. “Well, maybe next time. I’ll let you play again on ‘Guess who is going with Trigger to the dance’” Trigger made quotation motions with his fingers, then threw a peace sign. “See you after lunch!”

The English test was brutal. Hard to focus with the stress of social life dwelling in parts of Trigger’s mind where the definitions of literary terms and correct uses of a semi-colon were supposed to be. He would at least pass the test but might have lost a few points. Trigger and Max did not live too far from each other, so they often would walk home together from school. Trigger waiting at some of the picnic tables out front for Max. Soon enough he emerged from the crowd trying to leave the school. Max had continued his guessing, but still did not manage to nail one down. “Trigger! I’ve got it! One of them is Lorrain!” Lorrain was someone Trigger genuinely thought about asking to the dance if only to get people off his back about not going to the dance alone. Much like himself, Lorrain was a bit of a weirdo. She once in elementary had run through the school with a pair of muddy overalls, making a massive mess of the place. Appearing wounded, Trigger sighed “Well you got one of them. Your prize is the achievement of beating my game.” Max devilishly smiled “I have one of them, meaning I am starting to lock on to your type, eh? The others will be so easy to figure out.” Trigger rolled his eyes. Max had gone through most of the girls his grade in this blind version of guess who, so there were not many more that Trigger could feint. “Wait, are the others in the grades above us?” Max asked inquisitively. He motioned with one hand like he was holding a pipe. Sherlock Holmes style. For whatever reason that movie series was his favorite even though Max had never touched any of the books. Trigger thought for a moment. There was that goth who was just ahead of him by a year. Still way out of Trigger’s league, but she was cute. At least she might not ask any questions about Hermit’s true intentions going to the dance with her. “Oh no, that would be too scandalous.” Max returned to his thinking. “Who else… Who else is as weird as Lorrain. Or you for that matter.” Trigger shoved Max playfully “Hey! I am not that weird!” “You admit it! You are at least a little weird!” Max shoved back playfully. Trigger smiled and then stepped out in front of Max. Locked eyes and in his most commanding tone “So now you have gotten answers out of me, it is my turn. Who are you going to take?” Max appeared surprised but then blushed. “N-no one.” Trigger raised an accusatory eyebrow. “Alright, alright. So I asked Hailey but she’s not going. Then I gave Grace a shot, but she was already going with Henry. I did ask Anna.” Trigger’s eyes shifted to surprise. “And did she say if she wanted to go?” “She said and I quote: ‘I’ll go with you when the US beats France in football’” Both of them paused to think that over. Trigger eventually broke the silence. “I don’t know how good your chances are.” In frustration, Max covered his face letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, man. I’d rather not go to my first winter dance alone.” Trigger could hear the frustration in his voice alone. “Hey, wait” Trigger stopped walking “why don’t we both go alone? Surely there will be a few others going alone. I’ll even be your wingman since I am such a ‘ladykiller’” Max revealed his face, shocked. “That’s brilliant Trigger! I could almost kiss you!” Trigger tried to keep a blush from overtaking his face. Max continued his scheming “That way we might be able to dance with the broken hearted and lonely girls. Maybe even get more than one dance in with them!” Trigger cringed slightly. He understood how puberty had made Max a little “girl crazy”. If only he was as “boy crazy” as some of these girls Max said were for Trigger. The two resumed down the sidewalk to their respective homes.

The night of the dance came up. Trigger tried his best to dress nicely. He got some gray slacks from a thrift store, an old hand me down white button up shirt, and a purple tie. With some help from his father, we managed to clean up nicely. Used some gel to hold his hair back away from his face. Since he was going to be Max’s wingman, he waited at the entrance of the dance with some other hopeful half of couples who also were waiting. Trigger partially wished the reason was the same for him, but all he hoped for at this rate was a nice night with a friend. Trigger saw Max’s mom drive up in her Ford pickup and stepped out Max. Dressed in black slacks, white button up shirt, red vest, and a similarly colored tie. His curly hair was wrangled up a little. To put it lightly, he looked amazing. Trigger waved towards him “Hey Max! Where did you get the clothes? They look great!” Max glanced down as he approached the Trigger “Oh this? Mom took me to JCPenny. Said I needed to look sharp for the dance.” Trigger could not disagree but did not say it out loud. “Well, let’s get inside. I have some wingman-ing to start doing.”

(Part 1 of 2)

[the-hermit-reversed]

(Tumblr being dumb. So no more part numbers)

Max nodded and the two attempted their best attempt to swagger over to the table. Sitting there they saw three girls from their class. Each dressed in dark, barely perceptible colors. Their makeup was a bit overdone, but Trigger could admit they looked nice at least. Trigger did not immediately recognize them, but as he and Max arrived their conversation stopped, and their attention turned. “Hey there, would one of you like to dance?” Max was basically yelling. Wasn’t Trigger the one supposed to the talking? One of the girls, which it took Trigger a moment to recognize as Bethany, shouted back over the music “We are just waiting for our dates to get back, but maybe we can dance a bit.” Bethany looked to the other girls, which Trigger now realized was Grace and Lorrain. Grace waved them off “I am resting my feet for the first slow dance, Lorrain you take them.” Lorrain nodded and silently stood. She was wearing a deep blue dress with thin straps over the shoulder and her makeup was done to match. Her hair was as dark as the gym. She strode over to Trigger and put out a hand. This was not how Trigger expected this to go. This felt too easy. What is going on here? Max looked like he was going off to dance with Bethany. Trigger’s stomach turned again. Gingerly he took Lorrain’s hand and was led to the dance floor. The music was upbeat, but Trigger barely knew any moves. Lorrain spun about still holding Trigger’s hand and placed her free hand on his shoulder. Trigger locked up. Wasn’t he supposed to place his other hand on her hip? Lorrain wordlessly helped guide his hand to her hip and they began to rock from side to side with the music. Her green eyes locked on Trigger. His movements were rigid and uncomfortable. She immediately noticed and with her southern drawl she put her mouth near his ear. “Come on Trigger, loosen up a little and have some fun.” Trigger swallowed nervously and glanced at Max and Bethany. Max was clearly having a good time. He was smiling brightly, and Bethany laughed as the two spun around the dance floor. Lorrain moved her head in the way of Trigger’s vision to lock eyes with him. Trigger sheepishly smiled as if to say. “Eh, yes. Me? I am having tons of fun right now. Don’t mind me.” She leaned forward again. Trigger felt the warmth off her body which again set his stomach into a nervous lurch. “There you go. You are getting it.” Unbeknownst to Trigger, he was beginning to warm up to dancing. He nearly began to realize how fun it was, despite not dancing with the one he really wanted to dance with… Lorrain’s eyes noticed this as Trigger’s eyes kept drifting to Max and the song got closer to its end. She leaned in again. Trigger would have rather her not do that, but she said again into his ear “I did like this dance, but there is a slow dance coming up and I am getting the feeling you want to dance with Max.” Trigger blushed, and eyes widened in fear. Did he make it that apparent? How did she read that from him? As if she noticed his sudden panic of being clocked with one hundred percent accuracy she continued “Hey, chill, it's alright. I’m not going to tell anyone. I kinda want to dance with Bethany. If you don’t mind, I’ll get Bethany over here and work my magic to get Max with you when the song starts.” Flustered and filled with the worst butterflies Trigger had ever experienced, all he managed to do was look at her with pleading eyes and nod quickly. Lorrain’s sparkly blue lips smiled as she released from him and went over to Max and Bethany. Trigger saw Lorrain say something to Bethany’s ear. She gave Lorrain a grin and nodded. Bethany’s scheming eyes locked on to Trigger briefly and then turned to Max. Oh no. Wait. What did Trigger sign up for?

Chapter 2: The Winter Dance

Trigger shut his locker after grabbing the hefty history book for his next class. His thoughts honed on the test that he was going to be taking later that afternoon in 6th period English. Which meant he was not expecting to see Max’s face waiting for him with his iconic sly smirk. In a more mythological age Max could have been some fox-trickster god with that look. Obviously startled, Trigger exclaimed “Jesus! Max! How long were you there?” Max’s expression shifted to a stern, almost pastorally demeanor, “You see, child, I was always with you. Something something son of God.” Both shared a laugh. Max continued in an energetic manner “Sooo, who are you taking to the dance?” Confused, Trigger raised an eyebrow in response. “You know! The winter dance! It's right around the corner!” Right, the winter dance. Trigger forgot about that. He thought that it was later this month, but in truth it was only a week from now. “Oh that, I hadn’t thought about who I would ask.” Trigger lied through his teeth. He had thought about it for quite some time. Years actually. “Come on man! There must be someone!” Max elbowed him gently, teasingly. Trigger felt himself starting to flush. Damn it. Max was too good at this. “Ah! There it is! You have been thinking about asking someone! You must tell me! Is it Mary? Maybe Grace? Ooh wait, no let me think.” Max paused to think, giving Trigger a moment to collect his thoughts. Maybe he could play with Max on this. Trigger had all the cards in his hand. Trigger smirked “you caught me. I have been thinking, but just have not asked them yet.” Max’s eyes lit up. “Ha! Them! So there are more than one! Ooh you sly ladykiller!” Trigger rolled his eyes containing his amusement. “I’ll also give you a hint. You have not said their name yet either.” Max pondered on this for some time as they navigated through the hallways. “Anna must be one of them. She’s totally into you. I’ve seen the eyes she makes at you in class.” Trigger twisted his head towards Max “Wait, what? The exchange student from France? You must be joking. She thinks I am weird.” “That’s how the French show that they're interested in you dude!” Trigger huffed exhaustively. “Max, just because your uncle has been to Europe doesn’t make him a trustworthy source of how Europeans act.” Max shriveled his face into a pout. “You are honestly not making this an easy guess.” The light from a nearby window briefly caught Max’s strawberry blonde hair in the sun. Time slowed down for Trigger. Oh, how much he wished could have had a camera to capture the image. “Well, maybe next time. I’ll let you play again on ‘Guess who is going with Trigger to the dance’” Trigger made quotation motions with his fingers, then threw a peace sign. “See you after lunch!”

The English test was brutal. Hard to focus with the stress of social life dwelling in parts of Trigger’s mind where the definitions of literary terms and correct uses of a semi-colon were supposed to be. He would at least pass the test but might have lost a few points. Trigger and Max did not live too far from each other, so they often would walk home together from school. Trigger waiting at some of the picnic tables out front for Max. Soon enough he emerged from the crowd trying to leave the school. Max had continued his guessing, but still did not manage to nail one down. “Trigger! I’ve got it! One of them is Lorrain!” Lorrain was someone Trigger genuinely thought about asking to the dance if only to get people off his back about not going to the dance alone. Much like himself, Lorrain was a bit of a weirdo. She once in elementary had run through the school with a pair of muddy overalls, making a massive mess of the place. Appearing wounded, Trigger sighed “Well you got one of them. Your prize is the achievement of beating my game.” Max devilishly smiled “I have one of them, meaning I am starting to lock on to your type, eh? The others will be so easy to figure out.” Trigger rolled his eyes. Max had gone through most of the girls his grade in this blind version of guess who, so there were not many more that Trigger could feint. “Wait, are the others in the grades above us?” Max asked inquisitively. He motioned with one hand like he was holding a pipe. Sherlock Holmes style. For whatever reason that movie series was his favorite even though Max had never touched any of the books. Trigger thought for a moment. There was that goth who was just ahead of him by a year. Still way out of Trigger’s league, but she was cute. At least she might not ask any questions about Hermit’s true intentions going to the dance with her. “Oh no, that would be too scandalous.” Max returned to his thinking. “Who else… Who else is as weird as Lorrain. Or you for that matter.” Trigger shoved Max playfully “Hey! I am not that weird!” “You admit it! You are at least a little weird!” Max shoved back playfully. Trigger smiled and then stepped out in front of Max. Locked eyes and in his most commanding tone “So now you have gotten answers out of me, it is my turn. Who are you going to take?” Max appeared surprised but then blushed. “N-no one.” Trigger raised an accusatory eyebrow. “Alright, alright. So I asked Hailey but she’s not going. Then I gave Grace a shot, but she was already going with Henry. I did ask Anna.” Trigger’s eyes shifted to surprise. “And did she say if she wanted to go?” “She said and I quote: ‘I’ll go with you when the US beats France in football’” Both of them paused to think that over. Trigger eventually broke the silence. “I don’t know how good your chances are.” In frustration, Max covered his face letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, man. I’d rather not go to my first winter dance alone.” Trigger could hear the frustration in his voice alone. “Hey, wait” Trigger stopped walking “why don’t we both go alone? Surely there will be a few others going alone. I’ll even be your wingman since I am such a ‘ladykiller’” Max revealed his face, shocked. “That’s brilliant Trigger! I could almost kiss you!” Trigger tried to keep a blush from overtaking his face. Max continued his scheming “That way we might be able to dance with the broken hearted and lonely girls. Maybe even get more than one dance in with them!” Trigger cringed slightly. He understood how puberty had made Max a little “girl crazy”. If only he was as “boy crazy” as some of these girls Max said were for Trigger. The two resumed down the sidewalk to their respective homes.

The night of the dance came up. Trigger tried his best to dress nicely. He got some gray slacks from a thrift store, an old hand me down white button up shirt, and a purple tie. With some help from his father, we managed to clean up nicely. Used some gel to hold his hair back away from his face. Since he was going to be Max’s wingman, he waited at the entrance of the dance with some other hopeful half of couples who also were waiting. Trigger partially wished the reason was the same for him, but all he hoped for at this rate was a nice night with a friend. Trigger saw Max’s mom drive up in her Ford pickup and stepped out Max. Dressed in black slacks, white button up shirt, red vest, and a similarly colored tie. His curly hair was wrangled up a little. To put it lightly, he looked amazing. Trigger waved towards him “Hey Max! Where did you get the clothes? They look great!” Max glanced down as he approached the Trigger “Oh this? Mom took me to JCPenny. Said I needed to look sharp for the dance.” Trigger could not disagree but did not say it out loud. “Well, let’s get inside. I have some wingman-ing to start doing.”

(Part 1 of 2)

[the-hermit-reversed]

Trigger and Max stepped through the threshold into the school, showed their tickets, got some compliments from the volunteer parents and teachers, and then finally got to the entrance to the gym. From the steel doors the two could hear the drumming of the bass. It sounded like the typical pop dance tunes were playing. Yuck. Max took Trigger by the shoulder “Alright, you lead. I’ll follow. Look for anyone not on the dance floor or with anyone. Then we swoop in, got it?” Trigger’s stomach flipped. He was not totally on board with this but if it made Max happy, that is all that mattered, right? The two stepped through the double doors like a pair of secret agents entering the meeting where the bad guys would be. Several students were on the dance floor with each other. A few tables from the cafeteria were set on the sides for people to rest and chat. The music was deafening. Trigger had to lean up into Max’s ear just to speak to him. “I think I see someone over on the left.” Trigger caught a whiff of something from Max. Was he wearing cologne? It nearly melted Trigger’s mind.

(Part 2/3)

Chapter 2: The Winter Dance

Trigger shut his locker after grabbing the hefty history book for his next class. His thoughts honed on the test that he was going to be taking later that afternoon in 6th period English. Which meant he was not expecting to see Max’s face waiting for him with his iconic sly smirk. In a more mythological age Max could have been some fox-trickster god with that look. Obviously startled, Trigger exclaimed “Jesus! Max! How long were you there?” Max’s expression shifted to a stern, almost pastorally demeanor, “You see, child, I was always with you. Something something son of God.” Both shared a laugh. Max continued in an energetic manner “Sooo, who are you taking to the dance?” Confused, Trigger raised an eyebrow in response. “You know! The winter dance! It's right around the corner!” Right, the winter dance. Trigger forgot about that. He thought that it was later this month, but in truth it was only a week from now. “Oh that, I hadn’t thought about who I would ask.” Trigger lied through his teeth. He had thought about it for quite some time. Years actually. “Come on man! There must be someone!” Max elbowed him gently, teasingly. Trigger felt himself starting to flush. Damn it. Max was too good at this. “Ah! There it is! You have been thinking about asking someone! You must tell me! Is it Mary? Maybe Grace? Ooh wait, no let me think.” Max paused to think, giving Trigger a moment to collect his thoughts. Maybe he could play with Max on this. Trigger had all the cards in his hand. Trigger smirked “you caught me. I have been thinking, but just have not asked them yet.” Max’s eyes lit up. “Ha! Them! So there are more than one! Ooh you sly ladykiller!” Trigger rolled his eyes containing his amusement. “I’ll also give you a hint. You have not said their name yet either.” Max pondered on this for some time as they navigated through the hallways. “Anna must be one of them. She’s totally into you. I’ve seen the eyes she makes at you in class.” Trigger twisted his head towards Max “Wait, what? The exchange student from France? You must be joking. She thinks I am weird.” “That’s how the French show that they're interested in you dude!” Trigger huffed exhaustively. “Max, just because your uncle has been to Europe doesn’t make him a trustworthy source of how Europeans act.” Max shriveled his face into a pout. “You are honestly not making this an easy guess.” The light from a nearby window briefly caught Max’s strawberry blonde hair in the sun. Time slowed down for Trigger. Oh, how much he wished could have had a camera to capture the image. “Well, maybe next time. I’ll let you play again on ‘Guess who is going with Trigger to the dance’” Trigger made quotation motions with his fingers, then threw a peace sign. “See you after lunch!”

The English test was brutal. Hard to focus with the stress of social life dwelling in parts of Trigger’s mind where the definitions of literary terms and correct uses of a semi-colon were supposed to be. He would at least pass the test but might have lost a few points. Trigger and Max did not live too far from each other, so they often would walk home together from school. Trigger waiting at some of the picnic tables out front for Max. Soon enough he emerged from the crowd trying to leave the school. Max had continued his guessing, but still did not manage to nail one down. “Trigger! I’ve got it! One of them is Lorrain!” Lorrain was someone Trigger genuinely thought about asking to the dance if only to get people off his back about not going to the dance alone. Much like himself, Lorrain was a bit of a weirdo. She once in elementary had run through the school with a pair of muddy overalls, making a massive mess of the place. Appearing wounded, Trigger sighed “Well you got one of them. Your prize is the achievement of beating my game.” Max devilishly smiled “I have one of them, meaning I am starting to lock on to your type, eh? The others will be so easy to figure out.” Trigger rolled his eyes. Max had gone through most of the girls his grade in this blind version of guess who, so there were not many more that Trigger could feint. “Wait, are the others in the grades above us?” Max asked inquisitively. He motioned with one hand like he was holding a pipe. Sherlock Holmes style. For whatever reason that movie series was his favorite even though Max had never touched any of the books. Trigger thought for a moment. There was that goth who was just ahead of him by a year. Still way out of Trigger’s league, but she was cute. At least she might not ask any questions about Hermit’s true intentions going to the dance with her. “Oh no, that would be too scandalous.” Max returned to his thinking. “Who else… Who else is as weird as Lorrain. Or you for that matter.” Trigger shoved Max playfully “Hey! I am not that weird!” “You admit it! You are at least a little weird!” Max shoved back playfully. Trigger smiled and then stepped out in front of Max. Locked eyes and in his most commanding tone “So now you have gotten answers out of me, it is my turn. Who are you going to take?” Max appeared surprised but then blushed. “N-no one.” Trigger raised an accusatory eyebrow. “Alright, alright. So I asked Hailey but she’s not going. Then I gave Grace a shot, but she was already going with Henry. I did ask Anna.” Trigger’s eyes shifted to surprise. “And did she say if she wanted to go?” “She said and I quote: ‘I’ll go with you when the US beats France in football’” Both of them paused to think that over. Trigger eventually broke the silence. “I don’t know how good your chances are.” In frustration, Max covered his face letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, man. I’d rather not go to my first winter dance alone.” Trigger could hear the frustration in his voice alone. “Hey, wait” Trigger stopped walking “why don’t we both go alone? Surely there will be a few others going alone. I’ll even be your wingman since I am such a ‘ladykiller’” Max revealed his face, shocked. “That’s brilliant Trigger! I could almost kiss you!” Trigger tried to keep a blush from overtaking his face. Max continued his scheming “That way we might be able to dance with the broken hearted and lonely girls. Maybe even get more than one dance in with them!” Trigger cringed slightly. He understood how puberty had made Max a little “girl crazy”. If only he was as “boy crazy” as some of these girls Max said were for Trigger. The two resumed down the sidewalk to their respective homes.

The night of the dance came up. Trigger tried his best to dress nicely. He got some gray slacks from a thrift store, an old hand me down white button up shirt, and a purple tie. With some help from his father, we managed to clean up nicely. Used some gel to hold his hair back away from his face. Since he was going to be Max’s wingman, he waited at the entrance of the dance with some other hopeful half of couples who also were waiting. Trigger partially wished the reason was the same for him, but all he hoped for at this rate was a nice night with a friend. Trigger saw Max’s mom drive up in her Ford pickup and stepped out Max. Dressed in black slacks, white button up shirt, red vest, and a similarly colored tie. His curly hair was wrangled up a little. To put it lightly, he looked amazing. Trigger waved towards him “Hey Max! Where did you get the clothes? They look great!” Max glanced down as he approached the Trigger “Oh this? Mom took me to JCPenny. Said I needed to look sharp for the dance.” Trigger could not disagree but did not say it out loud. “Well, let’s get inside. I have some wingman-ing to start doing.”

(Part 1 of 2)

[the-hermit-reversed]

Chapter 2: The Winter Dance

Trigger shut his locker after grabbing the hefty history book for his next class. His thoughts honed on the test that he was going to be taking later that afternoon in 6th period English. Which meant he was not expecting to see Max’s face waiting for him with his iconic sly smirk. In a more mythological age Max could have been some fox-trickster god with that look. Obviously startled, Trigger exclaimed “Jesus! Max! How long were you there?” Max’s expression shifted to a stern, almost pastorally demeanor, “You see, child, I was always with you. Something something son of God.” Both shared a laugh. Max continued in an energetic manner “Sooo, who are you taking to the dance?” Confused, Trigger raised an eyebrow in response. “You know! The winter dance! It's right around the corner!” Right, the winter dance. Trigger forgot about that. He thought that it was later this month, but in truth it was only a week from now. “Oh that, I hadn’t thought about who I would ask.” Trigger lied through his teeth. He had thought about it for quite some time. Years actually. “Come on man! There must be someone!” Max elbowed him gently, teasingly. Trigger felt himself starting to flush. Damn it. Max was too good at this. “Ah! There it is! You have been thinking about asking someone! You must tell me! Is it Mary? Maybe Grace? Ooh wait, no let me think.” Max paused to think, giving Trigger a moment to collect his thoughts. Maybe he could play with Max on this. Trigger had all the cards in his hand. Trigger smirked “you caught me. I have been thinking, but just have not asked them yet.” Max’s eyes lit up. “Ha! Them! So there are more than one! Ooh you sly ladykiller!” Trigger rolled his eyes containing his amusement. “I’ll also give you a hint. You have not said their name yet either.” Max pondered on this for some time as they navigated through the hallways. “Anna must be one of them. She’s totally into you. I’ve seen the eyes she makes at you in class.” Trigger twisted his head towards Max “Wait, what? The exchange student from France? You must be joking. She thinks I am weird.” “That’s how the French show that they're interested in you dude!” Trigger huffed exhaustively. “Max, just because your uncle has been to Europe doesn’t make him a trustworthy source of how Europeans act.” Max shriveled his face into a pout. “You are honestly not making this an easy guess.” The light from a nearby window briefly caught Max’s strawberry blonde hair in the sun. Time slowed down for Trigger. Oh, how much he wished could have had a camera to capture the image. “Well, maybe next time. I’ll let you play again on ‘Guess who is going with Trigger to the dance’” Trigger made quotation motions with his fingers, then threw a peace sign. “See you after lunch!”

The English test was brutal. Hard to focus with the stress of social life dwelling in parts of Trigger’s mind where the definitions of literary terms and correct uses of a semi-colon were supposed to be. He would at least pass the test but might have lost a few points. Trigger and Max did not live too far from each other, so they often would walk home together from school. Trigger waiting at some of the picnic tables out front for Max. Soon enough he emerged from the crowd trying to leave the school. Max had continued his guessing, but still did not manage to nail one down. “Trigger! I’ve got it! One of them is Lorrain!” Lorrain was someone Trigger genuinely thought about asking to the dance if only to get people off his back about not going to the dance alone. Much like himself, Lorrain was a bit of a weirdo. She once in elementary had run through the school with a pair of muddy overalls, making a massive mess of the place. Appearing wounded, Trigger sighed “Well you got one of them. Your prize is the achievement of beating my game.” Max devilishly smiled “I have one of them, meaning I am starting to lock on to your type, eh? The others will be so easy to figure out.” Trigger rolled his eyes. Max had gone through most of the girls his grade in this blind version of guess who, so there were not many more that Trigger could feint. “Wait, are the others in the grades above us?” Max asked inquisitively. He motioned with one hand like he was holding a pipe. Sherlock Holmes style. For whatever reason that movie series was his favorite even though Max had never touched any of the books. Trigger thought for a moment. There was that goth who was just ahead of him by a year. Still way out of Trigger’s league, but she was cute. At least she might not ask any questions about Hermit’s true intentions going to the dance with her. “Oh no, that would be too scandalous.” Max returned to his thinking. “Who else… Who else is as weird as Lorrain. Or you for that matter.” Trigger shoved Max playfully “Hey! I am not that weird!” “You admit it! You are at least a little weird!” Max shoved back playfully. Trigger smiled and then stepped out in front of Max. Locked eyes and in his most commanding tone “So now you have gotten answers out of me, it is my turn. Who are you going to take?” Max appeared surprised but then blushed. “N-no one.” Trigger raised an accusatory eyebrow. “Alright, alright. So I asked Hailey but she’s not going. Then I gave Grace a shot, but she was already going with Henry. I did ask Anna.” Trigger’s eyes shifted to surprise. “And did she say if she wanted to go?” “She said and I quote: ‘I’ll go with you when the US beats France in football’” Both of them paused to think that over. Trigger eventually broke the silence. “I don’t know how good your chances are.” In frustration, Max covered his face letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, man. I’d rather not go to my first winter dance alone.” Trigger could hear the frustration in his voice alone. “Hey, wait” Trigger stopped walking “why don’t we both go alone? Surely there will be a few others going alone. I’ll even be your wingman since I am such a ‘ladykiller’” Max revealed his face, shocked. “That’s brilliant Trigger! I could almost kiss you!” Trigger tried to keep a blush from overtaking his face. Max continued his scheming “That way we might be able to dance with the broken hearted and lonely girls. Maybe even get more than one dance in with them!” Trigger cringed slightly. He understood how puberty had made Max a little “girl crazy”. If only he was as “boy crazy” as some of these girls Max said were for Trigger. The two resumed down the sidewalk to their respective homes.

The night of the dance came up. Trigger tried his best to dress nicely. He got some gray slacks from a thrift store, an old hand me down white button up shirt, and a purple tie. With some help from his father, we managed to clean up nicely. Used some gel to hold his hair back away from his face. Since he was going to be Max’s wingman, he waited at the entrance of the dance with some other hopeful half of couples who also were waiting. Trigger partially wished the reason was the same for him, but all he hoped for at this rate was a nice night with a friend. Trigger saw Max’s mom drive up in her Ford pickup and stepped out Max. Dressed in black slacks, white button up shirt, red vest, and a similarly colored tie. His curly hair was wrangled up a little. To put it lightly, he looked amazing. Trigger waved towards him “Hey Max! Where did you get the clothes? They look great!” Max glanced down as he approached the Trigger “Oh this? Mom took me to JCPenny. Said I needed to look sharp for the dance.” Trigger could not disagree but did not say it out loud. “Well, let’s get inside. I have some wingman-ing to start doing.”

(Part 1 of 3)

[the-hermit-reversed]

I know that too well. My particular transformation doesn't lend well with people. It's great for Halloween though. I'm surprised to meet a kindred that didn't know about the Camarilla. It left they had themselves everywhere. Irregardless, I'm pleased to meet a friendly face. It is nice to meet you Leila.

Hey, the name is Hermit. Yes; like the tarrot card.

I'm from clan Nosferatu. Which unfortunately has turned me into this. A genuine blood sucking monster. It would have been metal if I wanted it, but not much in my life has gone according to plan.

Anyways, my boyfriend; er well fiancé begged me to start this up. I'm probably going to break several rules of the Masquerade, but who gives a fuck about them anymore.

Here's to another night of this never-ending hell.

[the-hermit-reversed]

Well, things are as good as they'll be. Which includes not having my bloodthirsty sire put bounties on my head and giving the cams a big middle finger. I've got allies outside the city and I'm laying low until things cool off there. We could be friends. I wouldn't mind more kindred spirits to spend time with. As long as they aren't like most of the Camarilla.

Nice to meet you, uh. I didn't catch your name.

Hey, the name is Hermit. Yes; like the tarrot card.

I'm from clan Nosferatu. Which unfortunately has turned me into this. A genuine blood sucking monster. It would have been metal if I wanted it, but not much in my life has gone according to plan.

Anyways, my boyfriend; er well fiancé begged me to start this up. I'm probably going to break several rules of the Masquerade, but who gives a fuck about them anymore.

Here's to another night of this never-ending hell.

[the-hermit-reversed]

So a bit of an out of character post here. I have a ton of stuff written about this character. I really want to share them here. So I figured I would start today. Hermit's story is a tragic one (what VtM character doesn't have a tragic background).

Chapter 1: Sacred Heart Methodist Church

The wafting, warm smell of bacon cooking on the skillet crawled about the small two bedroom home. The Missouri sunrise, through the nature of light itself, had beaten the race to the small child’s bedroom. Where a 7 year old boy slept soundly despite the rude intrusion of the Sunday morning sunrise and the smell of frying pigs from the kitchen. It would take the loud knocking of the door, covered in crayon drawings of trains, to finally rouse the child. “Trigger! Time to get up! I need to be at the choir practice on time!” a motherly voice shouted with the forceful grace of a still waking parent. The blankets, from the local Dollar General, were thrown off the bed and Trigger rose from his slumber. Compared to his appearance 16 years later, this child was unrecognizable as the one who will be known as Hermit. His short black hair, greyish eyes, and a rounded face reflected off of a nearby mirror. After a stretch and a yawn to take in the morning sunrise from his small bedroom window, Trigger leapt out of bed with his favorite Thomas the Tank Engine pajamas and rushed toward the kitchen. There his mother had already set a plate for him. 3 bacon strips, 1 fried egg, and a glass of orange juice. His mother was already dressed for church in her summer dress and modest buttoned blouse. Her black hair was tied back and bounced as she moved about putting away the utensils from the making of the breakfast. She noticed Trigger step in and motioned to his place at the table. “Come on now, sleepyhead.” She teased with an affectionate smile. Hungry, Trigger got into his seat and devoured the food.

The Sacred Heart Methodist Church was not too far away from Trigger’s home. It was close enough that they could have easily walked to it, but with Trigger’s mother needing to be there for the choir they drove as a family. Hermit’s father was missing during breakfast, but it appeared he was just a bit behind getting ready as well. They all arrived at the church in their 2000 Honda Civic. Trigger’s mother rushed from the shotgun seat to get in the church. It would be still some time before the congregation would all arrive for the service. So the remaining two stayed in the car. Trigger’s father was a mostly clean shaven man. Never really liked a beard but let a little bit of fuzz grow into a light mustache. His hair was more of a deep brown, but in certain light one could have seen it for black. “Are you excited for 2nd grade? School is only a few more weeks away.” His father’s voice was never grumbly, but always seemed to have this energetic energy to anything he said. “Sure! Though it has been more fun to be with you and mom. I am really excited for what we will get to do in art! This year we get to make pots!” Trigger’s father flashed his classic dad smile. “Maybe if you like that we can get some of that clay and make some more. I am sure mom won’t mind us making a mess of the kitchen.” Stars in Trigger’s illuminated more than the summer night sky. “Oooh we will be in so much trouble.” Trigger thought about all the strange shapes he might make. His school pot would obviously be more “normal” but maybe one could be made to be more spherical! What about a square pot? Would that work? Could it hold water? The endless possibilities poured into the child’s mind. Much in the same way the imaginary water filled his imaginary pots. His bout of daydreaming was interrupted by the clanging of bells signaling the congregation to head to church.

The church was a modest one. Only having room for three members of the choir, sermon leader, and a single pianist at the front. There were only about 8 rows of aged old pews, each had a copy of the bible and hymnals. Trigger struggled to understand all of the words, but the music was nice and sometimes this quant space felt like another home to him. Looking at the gathered congregation, Trigger was looking for a familiar face. One of his friends from school and one of the sons of the other choir members. Maximilian; or Max, had been one of the kids in his first grade class. When the two found that they were from the same church they would try to sit as close as they could. Scanning, with hand upon brow, Trigger looked carefully but did finally spot Max. He was sitting at a filling row, so Trigger sat behind him. The boy had a red-blondish color to his hair, something Trigger had never really seen before. Max’s curly hair peeked over the back of the pew he sat at. “Psst! Max!” Trigger whispered over the settling congregation. The boy’s head whipped around as if finally finding something. “Trigger! I tried to save you a seat, but I didn’t find you.” Max whispered back. “Eh it’s fine. My dad and I should have come in sooner. Do you want to play today after the sermon? We could set up the sprinkler again!” Max’s eyes widened in excitement “Yeah! We should totally do it! I’ll ask mom after!” Beaming with childlike energy, Max smiled at Trigger. Without realizing it, Trigger found that his hand was holding the back of the pew ahead of him and Max touched his hand. Like the spark in a dark night, Trigger was startled by this strange feeling. It was like excitement, but different. It felt nice, much like most of the time that he spent with Max. Max appeared to have the same feeling as they kinda stared at each other for what felt like a minute. Quickly this all melted away and they laughed before settling down for the start of the service.

[the-hermit-reversed]

Mitu

[the-hermit-reversed]

Caboose got on my Tumblr. I can tell by his squeaks that he didn't mean to repost a bunch of things.

[the-hermit-reversed]

a quick taski maiden because she is my favourite

[the-hermit-reversed]

taski maiden and why she's my favourite

ever since dream bbq got announced a few years ago, I've always been drawn to taski maiden - not only because she's silly, but also because her design is deeply fascinating to me, as it's rich in history. I haven't seen any posts discussing it yet, so I thought I'd make one!

the thing about taski maiden is that her design is very rooted in mesoamerican art. her appearance is heavily based on the textiles made by the chimú, who inhabited the coasts of what is now perú and were one of the most prolific empires of pre-columbus america - check these out!

if you look at the second image specifically - which shows chimú warriors - you can see how closely the top left figure matches taski!

in fact, all of her forms share the same colour scheme present in most chimú textiles: red, yellow, white, and black.

the little guys she's carrying are based on it, too! their face is a perfect match to the creatures the warriors are holding.

speaking of the little guys, the cloth taski is carrying them in is actually an aguayo! its a rectangular cloth used by various south american cultures to carry items and small children in.

final fun fact: taski is a quechua word that roughly translates to young woman or virgin.

and that's about it! as a south american person myself, I just think it's amazing to get a design that draws from our historical art and culture. just makes me love this series even more :]

[the-hermit-reversed]

This is to-be husband, Victor Knightly. Clan Brujah. He got turned by his mother but we've known each other before turning. I helped his band with gigs. It was sick, but since that night we haven't really gotten the band back together. It's been rough. I know he misses them and I miss running his audio.

[the-hermit-reversed]

Here is my pet rat, Caboose.

I guess he drank some of my blood and now he follows me. I also can talk to him. He's a bit needy but you have to have friends in this world of darkness.