#also entering rough draft stage!

[coincasual]

monster high pencil doodle dump!!!

#some crops! i’ve been writing a few fan fictions and these are some of the doodles in the margins hehe #the top two are ari and operetta from a phantom fanfic i’ve been writing and drawing-in rough draft stage now! #and the others are from a fanfic about cleo and frankie..it’s sad but involves a lot of flashbacks to the movies/movie interpretations #so it’s been fun to reimagine/recreate some of the iconic outfits! most of the monsters are in it also- still working on wardrobe and its #also entering rough draft stage!

[comicaurora]

Hey, Red, I wanted to ask your insight on one thing about comic writing yet again

How do you write "serialized" media in comparison to traditional writing? Like, people often say that "your first draft will be bad, so you have to get back to it and revise at some point", but, like, for media released periodically, like webcomics, it's much harder to do, unless you write down the entire story beforehand in a lot of detail, and revise *that* instead, and only start drawing after like third or fourth edition of the script.

But, like, I assume that, beyond basic outline, some cool scenes in the middle, and the ending, there is only so much planning you can viably do. How do you handle it? Do you sometimes have to draw a page without knowing yet what will happen five pages later? How do you balance between leaving yourself the freedom to alter things (and also free time not spent on writing a novel before transforming it into a comic) and having a good written story, with themes and foreshadowing and stuff?

It's certainly different than traditional writing, because progress becomes a rolling, iterative thing rather than full draft passes.

What I have is a many-pronged approach that gets more detailed the farther in it goes:

The toolbox. This is a big pile of characters, subplot concepts and plothooks I add to whenever I think of something new and fun. When I'm building out a new arc from scratch, this is what I draw on.

The roadmap. This is a rough plan for the overall shape of the story - I know where the characters start and where they end, and I have a rough idea of waypoints they'll hit along the way. I have one of these for the story as a whole, with each "waypoint" basically being a rough-draft concept for the premise of a single arc. To give an idea of the level of specificity, the "waypoint" for this first arc was literally just "getting the gang together." It was the one thing I needed to have happen. On a smaller scale, individual sub-arcs have more detailed roadmaps of their own, but they mostly fit the format of "characters arrive in location A -> characters fight bossfight B" with the rest fleshed out in between.

The checklist. This is the specific list of "things I need to happen in this specific substory," aka the waypoints on the smaller-scale roadmaps. It gets fleshed out as the actual story gets closer to it and specific character arcs take turns I might not have been able to anticipate. This is close to a timeline, but it's more flexible, as at this stage it's okay to shuffle around the order of things - in fact I almost never make solid linear timelines of events, because sometimes I split the party and things happen at their own pace. In these cases I just set waypoints for when different sub-timelines will intersect - at what point in the conversation will the large flashy thing interrupt, at what stage in the fight will the cavalry arrive, etc. I just need to be sure to hit all the important parts. I'll know a story is ready to turn into a storyboard once I have every important detail nailed down - what specific sticking points will come up in the character conflict, what hidden threat is going to be in the environment they enter so I can set it up correctly, what conclusion will a character come to and how will they want to proceed, etc.

The solid storyboard. This is what I turn into finalized pages, and I work several chapters ahead to make sure I have the rhythm of the story. Once it's down on paper it generally doesn't change much, though specifics of dialogue can be reworked right up to the export. This is linear progress, and it usually happens in very discrete bursts. I don't storyboard something until I know exactly what is happening in this specific scene, where they're going, where it'll end and what it's setting up for later. Sometimes I get stuck on a single panel because I'm not sure which choice a character will make, and then when I come back to it I set down that panel and like five more pages flow out afterwards. Sometimes I'll just reread all my storyboards up to the current endpoint, take a nap, then wake up knowing exactly what to put on the next panel. Sometimes I'll do a reread and tweak the dialogue at several points because the first draft I wrote doesn't sound good to me anymore. This is where I do the bulk of the work that traditional media would do in the second draft.

In order to avoid rewrites - because in serialized media, rewrites are very bad - I frontload as much of that work as I can. I don't start the storyboard until I know all the relevant details of the scene's setup, so I don't end up retconning anything important. If there's a specific hidden enemy in the environment, I want to foreshadow it accurately, so before I draw the area it's in I want to know exactly what it looks like and where it could be hiding. If they're in a facility designed for a specific thing, I want to know exactly what that thing is so the clues and details line up. If I've reached the start of an argument, I want to know what is going to end it before I draw the first panel.

I don't need to know every detail of exactly everything that's going to happen, because the characters work better when I let them make their own choices on a panel-to-panel basis, but I need to know every detail of what they're reacting to and interacting with. In a way it's a lot like running a TTRPG. So there are many times where I draw a page and don't know what's going to happen five pages later - in fact I'd say that's the vast majority of my experience - but I always have a narrowed-down space of things I know will need to happen in the next sixty pages.

#asks #writing stuff #behind the curtain

[palettepainter]

Muppets: Ghost AU idea

I won’t have time to develop this idea in time for Halloween, but since we’re quickly approaching the spooky day itself this AU has been on my mind and I wanted to share it. It focuses around Liv and the band, but there are other characters who make appearances

So the basic idea for this AU is inspired by Muppets Haunted Mansion. Liv resides in an old looking town which has a long history of ghost stories. She lives in an apartment next door to Bunsen and Beaker - resident scientists and firm non-believers in the supernatural who have just brought an old Knick-knack shop, and are planning to renovate it into something more science-y (idk what yet so use your imagination)

Liv often likes to instigate playful debates with them about ghosts, as Liv is a big fan of horror/spooky tropes 

Liv is job hunting and finds a job application for a nighttime janitor/guard for the old music theatre. The theatre is a beloved piece of architecture for the town, but over the years the building began to crumble and for a while it remained broken and empty. Now that they’re renovating it, they need someone to watch the building at night, while also tending to any tasks that may need doing (sweeping, dusting, polishing, chipping hardened gum off picture frames from snooping teens, etc)

Liv accepts the job, by that point the theatre is coming along smoothly and progress is slowly being made. She enters the building and gets to work, absolutely loving the the theatres entire vibe! She had fun pointing out all the cliche stuff that happens, such as the creaking floorboard or a door slamming shut from a draft. However as her shift draws to a close she hears music drifting over from the direction of the main stage…she’s positive that can’t just be the wind. 

Trying for a relaxed face she approaches the stage, and her expression quickly snaps to a look of utter terror when she sees six glowing, transparent figures on stage playing instruments. They don’t spot her not even when she inches even closer, and when they do spot her, she freezes up like a goat. They make some comment on how “Huh, never had a worker stay in this late” and then the one with the moustache goes “She don’t look like a trouble maker, you a trouble maker?”

When Liv replies in a squeaky voice, the band of ghosts are all shocked to discover she can hear them and see them. Naturally they get excited, they haven’t had somebody new to talk for for YEARS, but they don’t even get my to introduce themselves before Liv is making a mad dash for the door, leaving her broom to drop lifelessly to the floor 

The story of the AU would then follow Liv as she tries to figure out more about these ghosts, while also making friends along the way. This is still a very rough idea, I’m not sure if the rest of Zoot’s cousins will be in this AU or if they’ll be ghosts too, but here are the roles I’ve come up with for characters so far:

Liv - Cleaner/Night-guard for the theatre grounds 

Bunsen/Beaker - Resident scientists, Liv’s weird neighbours 

Teeth and the band - Ghosts that live at the music theatre

Rowlf - Theatre owner, one of the older residents in town. Takes care of Newhew 

Walter - Rowlf’s joyful assistant, a new hire. So far doesn’t do much since the theatre is still being reconstructed but Rowlf thinks he has spirit 

Darci - Troubled youth, sneaks onto the music theatre grounds to practise her music. Liv’s eventual frenemy 

Skeeter - Darci’s roommate, works at a fancy dress/prop shop which is popular around Halloween. Also a member on the roller derby team 

Scooter - Post man. Delivers the post with his bike and carry’s the post in a little pull along trailer that attaches to his bike 

#Muppets #The Muppets #Liv #Muppet OC #The electric mayhem #Electric mayhem #Zoot’s cousins #Ghost AU

[lenasai]

whenever u can, i'd like to hear about spies shrimp...

thank you blestie, i am about to enter the cleaning mines but before i do, i would love to tell you about the spies shrimp

i will finish it at some point but the thing is when i started writing it, i wanted to finish it by a certain point for maximum emotional impact

said timing has already come and gone but. oh well. it can still be emotional for the characters involved in the moment

the whole premise revolved around nanci falling to the spies and getting briefed on the ins and outs of spies hq by ivy

there are obviously some funny moments because it's nanci. also this is where i decided to write the origin of the one sided rivalry nanci has toward mo pickles

anyway nanci eventually gets a little concerned by just how much information ivy's giving him. the shrimp part comes in when ivy explains why they're doing that.

really trying to beat back the "oh it won't have as much emotional impact if you post it now" mindset because like. any time is a good time to post blaseball fic. also we now know ivy wasn't in any danger of exploding.....but during the time in which the fic is written, they didn't! :)

it's sitting at about 1.3k words, and i would say it's about 60-75% written - still in the rough draft stage, but if you can believe it, i really wanted to write the whole thing in a week. lol. lmao.

[hobbit-in-kuroshitsuji]

Kuroshitcember 2022 Prompt Nr. 9

Prompt: Listen to Stolas Sings by Sam Haft. What do you think this could represent?

You can find all prompts here!

All of these will be uploaded/archived to this blog's Ao3 eventually

Summary: On Grelle's Death Day, she thinks everything is fine and goes to work (to see William). Turns out, everything is not fine after all, but William is there to help her... CW: There's some implied Grelliam if you squint? I mean, would William touch another person if he didn't love them? but that could also be family, so read it however you like <3 this has mentions of suicide, death, murder - please only read if you feel you can mentally <3

this is heavily inspired by my own HCs on reapers which you can read up on here. also, I wanted this to be a drabble....... it didn't turn into a drabble XD oh and - the usual "hey I haven't read this through yet, pls don't judge this rough first draft" warnings ahem.....

All the world’s a stage and I’m a player navigating the brutal, bloody battlefield that is love~

The world’s a stage, fake, discerning and bloody. There is no rest for those who seek to portray their souls outwardly; for those who wish to be themselves. There is no comfort. No safety.

So was it truly so strange for Grelle to pretend? For her to make sure she was herself, sand safe, by pretending the entire world was a stage for her to waltz on?

No one took her seriously, yet they also knew she was deadly and capable of chopping anyone to bits if they tried to burst her bubble. But it wasn’t a bubble. It was just… safety through acting.

All that Grelle had gone through had made her sweetness, her innocence, her “oh I’m sorry, sir” attitude disappear. No one dared misgender her now. No one dared touch her now.

But that was also solitary and painful.

Did they believe she was a woman, or did they act along with her to save their own skins? Did they act to save her sanity? Did they think her gender was the act?

Probably… Grelle was convinced that no one understood her acting was to keep herself safe, so people would back the hell off.

She was convinced…

Until one day when William T. Spears showed that their long, long centuries working together meant he knew her and saw through her act.

Until one day when William T. Spears showed that the comfortable lie which Grelle had created of their romantic relationship actually was just that for even William.

“Sutcliff? What are you doing here, you are supposed to be at home.” William’s words came out as a scolding, which considering the subject was a rather odd thing to hear. William never scolded on for working.

But, that day which changed oh so many things about what Grelle though she knew, also happened to be her Death Day.

“I feel not a thing, my dearest,” Grelle offered with a shrug of her shoulder, coincidentally also shrugging her red coat off to reveal more of her shoulder to William.

The man, who’d shut off his emotions in a response to his trauma, caging his centuries old heart off from the rest of the world, ignored her flirting.

As usual.

“And that is healthy, because…?” William sassed, quirking an eyebrow.

Scoffing, Grelle threw a glare William’s way. She stood from her desk and placed hands on her hips. “Mind your words, mister, I am the epitome of mental health – just as anyone!” She pointed at poor Ronald, trying his best to stay out of it by (literally) burying his face into his paperwork. “Knox! Am I not sane?”

Ronald glanced between the two “adults” awkwardly before saying yes with his mouth whilst shaking ‘no’ with his head.

“See!”

“Grelle,” William spoke, voice a soothing calmness in what undoubtedly would become even more of a scene. He never used her name often. So, of course, it shut her up. “We do not work on our Death Days, we stay home and we let it play out. We disrupt the office otherwise-“

“Ugh,” was all Grelle had to say, rolling her eyes. It was always about work with him.

The office suddenly got a lot busier, as a batch of potential new recruits entered with wide eyes. They’d just learned of the reality there were other dimensions outside of heaven and hell. So those wide-eyed looks was the one way to identify new reapers.

“Don’t disrupt the office,” William said to Grelle before turning around to face the baby reapers.

Grelle positioned herself on the desk, watching and listening as William gave a long lecture on safety protocols to the new reapers. No one listened. People just wanted to learn about souls at that stage, and whether they would be allowed to die at some point.

So it was always amusing to watch William attempt to give these lectures.

Othello and Ronald made a quick bet on how long it would take for one of the new recruits to hurt their fingers on the printers no one was allowed to touch save for two who had not broken a printer yet in their entire life – William, and Eric.

And then Grelle joined in with a bet on who would make a comment on “why does the supervisor do all the printing for us if they’re our superiors?” because, quite frankly, it was stupid.

There were no budgets in the afterlife.

Then Grelle was forced to join in. Recruits asked her questions about being out in the field, and she answered them with flat, one word, answers which often were either ‘yes’ or ‘no’ (or ‘next’ when the question was too boring).

Then…

“Mister Sutcliff, sir? Once you reap a soul, do you get a glimpse of wherever they go? Or is it just another weird light like when we-“

“Ma’am.” William’s voice interrupted. William never interrupted new recruits.

Normally, Grelle brushed it off. It was her stage, she was the star, and anyone who misgendered her was simply not part of her play, ignored and never seen again in her world until they did better.

But that day, it was Grelle’s Death Day.

That day, maybe, her brain wasn’t as okay as she had thought it was when she woke up.

That day, the words went straight to her heart, which lit a fire into nerves that shouldn’t be active within a reaper… but which were prone to activating when on their Death Day… the nerves sent signals up to her brain, waking memories that should be in a cage…

Everything seemed to darken around her. To the outside, it just looked like she’d stopped breathing – like a robot who ran out of juice and couldn’t move another limb again. But to her, the world darkened, making her vision smaller until all she could see were her last moments, her last feelings, her reasons…

Until William appeared in front of her, like sparks in the dark, letting her focus on reality long enough to realise he had defended her without being provoked by her own acting… He believed her. He saw her.

“I told you to stay home, Sutcliff,” William scolded her, but despite the harshness in his voice, Grelle melted against him as he looped an arm around her waist and helped her off the desk to leave the office.

Reapers watched, empathetic and selfishly relieved their own Death Days were a while away still. Yet, despite the many gazes on her, all she knew was William guiding her home.

He opened her door with a key Grelle didn’t know William had, and let her inside. He stayed in the doorway himself, though, watching as she let her coat she so cherished fall off her and to the floor, shoes kicked off before she waddled inside to find a couch to disappear into.

And so, William stepped inside to clean up after her, caring for the coat he knew she’d care for again tomorrow, and putting the shoes in the shelf with the others. He closed the door behind him, and entered the living room to watch her sit on the couch, eyes empty, flashing between green and yellow as synapses re-awoke within her brain –

“Grelle.”

He’d believed her. He saw through her eyes, her act, and believed her.

She didn’t want him to go… “Will… Did I really kill those-“

“Don’t think too much on it,” William quickly interjected. “You had your reasons. You are making amends for it now.”

William never interrupted, unless it was to protect Grelle, either from others, or herself.

Clearing his throat, William sat down next to Grelle. “I have a long report to read through today. Let me read it out loud.” Let me distract you.

Shaking from the memories of her last breaths, Grelle nodded her head and curled up into a ball at the other side of the couch…

Things were easier with someone around to help keep Grelle’s mind away from the open jailcell of her past.

William made a new rule from that day on.

No one was to be alone on their Death Day.

And William and Grelle? They were always the ones helping each other.

__ taglist: @eemoo1o-animoo

#kuroshitcember #kuroshitsuji #black butler #hobbit's kuroshitcember 2022 #grelliam #william t spears #grelle sutcliff #reapers #shinigami #headcanons #cw #suicide #death #Em if you're reading this far into the tags #I wanted to make this claudebastian cause let's be honest #this song is freaking perfect for them #and i started writing it and then the lines about life becoming thrilling when the person entered the room #and it just gave massive grelle vibes #especially from that one OVA where Grelle goes all “haha life is a stage!” #so - no demons preening each other #but prob some other day this month ;)

[thegirlwiththelilactattoo]

No. 10, or Chapter 2: Electric Boogaloo

Introduction

In my first dissertation chapter, I found it exceptionally challenging to parse out what a chapter was supposed to look like and how to articulate my ideas. These are like pretty fundamental elements of writing, so my first chapter ended up being largely unfocused. I'm a write-as-I-think sort of person, but it felt pretty discouraging to turn in writing I felt wasn't as good as I wanted it to be. After sending the draft off to my committee chair for the first round of comments, I decided I wanted to address the most glaring shortcoming of chapter one in my second chapter. This manifested as two goals: remain in control of the argument and use evidence more efficiently.

Writing Chapter Two

I started chapter two largely the same way as chapter one, with a mind map. I mentioned in a previous post how I use mind maps, so I won't rehash that here (link to that post). The argument and evidence I initially planned in my mind map didn't end up in the draft I turned in...at all. Like in my first chapter, I planned to cover a robust amount of information that ended up being entirely unreasonable to cover in a chapter -- not in the sense that there were too many ideas, but that the strands of discussion didn't amount to an actual argument. I like love to info dump, so my writing often reflects me rambling with no point because I'm excited about what I learned. I ended up chatting with my advisor in the early stages of this chapter (good idea!!) to get her feedback. While I also didn't end up incorporating what we talked about in that conversation, it helped to reframe the chapter with more focus.

Another fail this time around, was my also bad habit of doing a ton of reading before I start writing. I ended up reading a lot about new materialisms because I thought I would do a literature review in this chapter. I didn't find anything particularly interesting in the literature from new materialism or other ontological turn stuff, so instead I wasted a lot of time reading for no reason. idk if I have any coherent advice for this, but I think I learned that I need to start with the data first and then read what feels appropriate to help me write the argument. I'm a firm believer in not deleting words. Instead I move them to a different word doc (I call mine "Chp X Bits") in case I want to include those words later. My Chp 2 Bits ended up being about 10k words of different stops and starts where I tried to figure out how to enter the narrative of the chapter.

After this point, I had another committee member read my draft. This was a bad idea. In my discipline, committee members typically don't expect or want to read rough drafts or be the first pair of eyes on early writing. The committee chair is considered the first line of defense who and gives comments on the initial draft. My other committee member did give some helpful comments about my over reliance on other scholars, which for her, limited my own theoretical contributions. Not sure if other people feel this way, but I've found that grad school has chipped away at my confidence to make authoritative claims that aren't couched in some other theorists' words, so this has been really challenging for me. I took her feedback and deleted entire sections that were just me talking about other scholars. Most of the deleted text didn't appear in the finalized rough draft or if it did, it was in the footnotes as additional context.

I switched gears after this second round of feedback and made an outline of the chapter just with data I collected to ground each section. I wrote a section heading with a scant description of what the data demonstrated and then from there, reorganized the chapter to emerge more organically from the data instead of secondary scholarship. As I wrote, I also used color-coding to organize this draft: words I wanted to keep (black), paragraphs that needed to be moved (green), main ideas the section needed to cover (purple/or highlighted), and stream of consciousness to be rewritten (blue).

Like I said before, I love to info dump and having the main idea of each subsection really helped me stay focused. I also find that using different colors frees me to write messily because it's not the standard text color I'll submit. If it's in blue, I know I have to rewrite it, so it's black text. (I also do this as a write anyway. I write everything single spaced and I double space text to signal to myself that it's finalized.) The color coding also helped structure my editing process because I had a better sense of the edits I wanted to make before I sent the draft off to my chair.

What I Learned/Chapter Three Plans

I won't start writing chapter three until July as I take a "break" to edit my first chapter, work on an article, and outline chapter three. I think that I'm going to focus a lot more intentionally on using the data to structure the chapter. For this chapter, I got a lot of great feedback about the theory, rather than structure because my writing was easier to follow. Without the tangents to secondary data, my writing also felt clearer and more controlled. I did qualitative coding for my data, so I have a ton of thematic codes that I haven't really used to their full potential. I'm going to start the outline from the codes/data to keep my argument consistent.

I also think that I'll check in with my committee chair more often. Usually I meet with her once the chapters done, but having her feedback when I ran into a challenge made a big difference. Especially as I attempt to make theoretical claims sans secondary sources, I want to rely on her more for direction.

Conclusion

So yeah, that's chapter two done, which means I'm halfway done with the rough drafts of my body chapters!! Writing my dissertation has been truly an Experience that I don't think coursework/teaching prepared me for. So much of it feels like throwing anything at the wall to see if it sticks, but I think with each chapter I get closer to understanding what this part of the academic training is supposed to do.

As always if there's anything you would like me to write about, let me know!

#phdblr #studyblr #gradblr #grad school #academic writing #dissertation #writing advice #diss update #gradblogging #academia #it's exceptionally bleak that my break is to work on other writing #that's the real dark academia #are these posts interesting #i never have a sense of what's interesting and what's my own gratuitous navel gazing

[greyskyflowers]

Parts of a fic I'll never finish:

A bunch of scenes from a fic I probably won't finish but thought I'd share anyway in case it inspires someone :) Breaks between scenes are indicated by ~~. This fic made it to rough draft stage only so please ignore any mistakes.

Pairing: MarcoAce ft hints of Lawlu and Zosan

Reincarnation/magical realism/modern AU

Ace inherits an old house on the coast from Shanks. The house is a mess and full of strange things but he has a great time fixing it up.

Along the way he learns about the people who lived in the house before him, gets a visit from his younger brother and his friends, and meets an odd group of people from town that seem to have adopted him as one of their own. He also meets a man named Marco.

~~

Ace has rarely felt as lost as he does standing in front of his new home.

The house is two stories and a shadow of what it once must have been, with a beautiful porch now all rotten and threatening to fall in. The house might have been painted a pretty slate color at on point but was a mess of dirt and salt and rot now.

It was liveable though and that's all that matters. It's with a strong mix of excitement and dread that he opens the door.

Dust bellows out and the shadows peek around the corners to see who's visiting. The light in the kitchen is on but when he goes in to investigate the room is dark and the bulb broken. The wallpaper reachs out and tugs gently at his hair when he walks past.

~~

He sweeps the shadows back to their corners, now clean enough for them to stay in.

He takes down the old lace curtains and goes to soak them in water, hoping he might be able to save some of them. They're hard with age and grey with dust but they're beautifully made and look to have been snow white at one point.

He cleans all the cabinets and doors, sweeping out the bad and old, opening the windows to call in the good.

The day tumbles in as sunlight on floor that has been in the dark for years. Spiders tiptoe over the floor to see where they can hang their own lacey and silky webs.

He finds some old wood by the fireplace in the main room and decides that until he gets the heating working again, this will work fine. The wood catches easily, incredibly dry and old as it is. It burns blue green for a moment before fading to the normal red yellow, the flames cast shadows that look like feathers on the walls.

He shakes out the old welcome mat on the front porch and leaves an iron coin under it when he sets it back down. He keeps the door open behind him.

Each room he enteres for the first time is given a soft greeting and the windows propped open.

~~

He's painting one of the ground floor bedrooms when someone knocks at the door. He's right in the middle of doing the small work around the window though so he debates ignoring it.

~~

Ace feels his breath catch when he looked at it. It was stunning.

"I didn't even know that they came in this color."

Marco uses the hem of his shirt to dry it off.

"The ocean does strange things sometimes. Red pearls hardly seem that odd when you think about it."

He looks at Ace from the corner of his eye and holds out his hand to drop the pearl into the younger man's hand. It falls to his palm like a drop of blood.

"You should keep it. Maybe if we find enough you can make a necklace."

Ace rolls the red pearl around between his finger, it looks like glass in the light and is surprisingly heavy.

"You think I could pull up a whole necklace of these?" He means it as a joke but Marco doesn't take it that way.

"Yes." He says without hesitant.

"Oh."

Ace lets the silence hang between them. He feels like he missed something but isn't sure what it was.

~~

His toes sink into the sand and the water throws foam at his ankles. It's cold and grey today.

"Are you cold?" Marco seems surprised.

"Yeah. I get cold easy, Luffy always made fun of me for it when we were younger. He'd be running around bare chested and in shorts all year around and I'd start bundling up early fall."

"That's funny. You seem more like the type to be warm all the time."

Ace grins. "Are you saying I'm hot?"

Marco laughs and the shoreline doesn't seem as colorless as it had earlier.

~~

Zoro with his thrift shop gold earrings and dyed green hair that only he could pull off. Always half a step behind his brother.

Usopp has his thick curls piled on top of his head in a messy bun and is telling a story about the time he saved someone from drowning to anyone close enough to listen.

Chopper, who graduated high school and then college so young but so smart. Losing his way before managing to find a place with Luffy. Every part of him glows in shades of brown and gold in the afternoon sun.

Franky has sleeves of both arms, black and grey ink that makes designs like gears and stars and other pieces of metal. It's stunning artwork that almost looks real, his wife Robin the one who had done all of it.

Robin who always seems to know more than you. She works remote, no one knowing what she does or if they do they're not telling Ace. Whatever it is doesn't need her to work often and pays very well. It's shady but so is Robin, so it works.

Nami waves her phone around trying to get service. Her peach, gold hair spills down her back in rings and she looks annoyed. Her girlfriend is a blue blob on her phone that's laughing at her, if the airy giggle cutting in and out was any indication.

Luffy has the strawhat their godfather had given him when he was younger hanging from his neck. The man was a menace and his wife was the only thing that could keep him in line besides his best friend, Benn. His hair looks like ink in the sun and his shoulders are broader than last time Ace had seen him.

It makes something catch in his chest that he'd missed it.

~~

The lock is rusted and heavy. He tugs on it and lets Luffy try his hand at it too.

"Maybe we can pick it somehow?"

The little built in hideaway is interesting and he'd like to keep it if they could avoid damaging it while trying to open it.

Luffy rubs his chin and looks at the opening of the lock.

"Nami!" He bellows.

Ace rears back at the yell right next to his ear and faintly hears something yelled back.

Luffy stands up and goes to the window, leaning out if it.

"We need you to pick a lock!"

Ace tunes them out as he keeps fiddling with the lock until he hears heels coming up the stairs.

Nami is vivid in the bare and dusty room, all bright colors and loud personality.

Ace moves to the side to let her look at the lock.

"Oh, yeah. I can do this."

She unrolls a small cloth bundle she has with her and grabs some tools to work with.

Ace watches her scrap off some of the rust to get into the keyhole and start carefully moving the picks.

"And.. there."

The lock falls to the floor with a heavy thud.

She steps back and lets Ace in front of the little cabinet.

"You think it's food?"

Ace makes a face.

"I hope not. We couldn't eat it anyway... I mean, could we? I guess it depends what it was."

Nami looks disgusted.

"I'm getting Zoro up here to watch you two. I refuse to watch you morons eat whatever comes out of there."

She leans out the window and yells down at Zoro before turning and leaving the room in a kick up of dust.

The little door is still shut and it seems like the house is holding its breath.

The wood has swollen over time, and it takes a decent amount of pulling before it gives, Ace tumbling back on his butt when it suddenly opens.

Old air seeps out in a grateful breath, blowing back his hair and Luffy's hat flutters against his back. The breeze takes off towards the window and is gone.

Enough light shines in to start cautiously sneaking a look into the dark, cool hole in the wall.

"Water?"

He pulls out a few jars with clear liquid in it. He twists the top off and recoils instantly.

"Holy shit, That's moonshine." He takes another tentative sniff. "Nope, I take it back. That's lighterfluid. No human should drink this."

He shoves the cap back on and rubs his eyes. Luffy snags the jar with a whoop.

"Zoro will love these. Gimme."

The jars are swept up in skinny arms and Luffy takes off down the stair already calling for his best friend.

With a shake to clear his head, Ace is back to seeing what he can find.

He pulls out a small cloth bag, some small seeds falling into his hand when he opens it.

He can't tell what they where but maybe he can ask Robin or Usopp when he goes back downstairs. They carefully go back in their bag before being set aside.

He pulls out another piece of cloth. It's soft with wear and ragged like it had been torn from something. There's a skull on the front with maybe smoke curling around it? Ace looks closer, a mustache? He can't help the small laugh that escapes him, what a weird thing to hide away.

There are a few more odds and ends that he pulls out. Some old coins, a wicked knife with a curved handle, a small jar of sand all stuck in a clump, and way in the back was a book.

He pulls it out last, dusty and bulging with pages stuffed between the old leather that binds it all together.

He flips it over and brushes the dust off the cover. It's blank but clearly well loved, with ink and paint along the edges and the occasional stray drop on the front.

He opens it carefully, scared it will break in his hands but it holds strong.

It's a sketchbook.

He turns each page with wonder. Paintings of the sea that smelled of salt and leave his fingers wet, trees that wave their leaves at him as he turns the pages, ink drawings of a couple dancing with a dressed flaring up around the woman as she twirls into the man's arms.

Occassionally a photo was stuck in. The same dark haired man and smiling woman in every one.

They look happy.

The second to last page has a photo of just the woman, sitting on the window seat he recognizes from one of the other upstairs rooms. She looks like she was watching someone out the window, hand held up like she was going to wave and a happy look on her face. The other hand was curled around her belly, a very clear baby bump visible under the blue of the dress.

He turns the final page, not expecting anything else but a dried flower falls into his lap.

Carefully picked up by the stem he holds it up, this he recognizes. It's a hibiscus flower, more of a deep red than the vibrant pink he usually associates with them but otherwise age has been kind to the flower.

It's carefully tucked back into the book and he gathers everything up in his arms before carefully taking it downstairs.

Robin is in the kitchen when he comes down, looking at the stuff in his arms with a raised eyebrow.

~~

"I think your brother has decided it's time for us to move along."

Ace looks out the window and watches everyone climb into their monstrosity of an RV that's 100% not legal to drive but doesn't seem to stop them. There's fruit trees growing from the top and a giant lion painted on the side that they affectionately call Sunny. Luffy hangs from the side while Franky finishes something up under the hood.

~~

He couldn't help the way his eyes dart from Luffy to Zoro and back.

"Umm.. er..." He isn't sure how to ask.

Zoro looks pleased that he'd think that but they both shake their heads.

"No, his name is Tora-o! Besides, Zoro and Sanji are dating."

"Really?" He can't help the surprise in his voice and watches Zoro flush while smacking Luffy on the head. He can't say he saw that one coming but he can kind of see it if he thinks about it.

Sanji is elegance, if you ignore the fact that he can have a hell of a temper when provoked. He's a good balance for Zoro, who's wild and ragged.

Sanji has a goal and aspirations and while Zoro has goals as well, he's content to go where the flow takes him.

They go together well.

"Sanji spoils Zoro and makes him special stuff to eat but not me."

Ace laughs at the face Luffy makes. Always worried more about food than anything else.

~~

"You like the water a lot than, huh?"

Marco smiles and turns his gaze out to the horizon.

"I think I must have been unable to swim in a past life. I can't seem to get very far from the shore before it calls me back."

Ace pulls his knees up and rests his chin on them.

"You know, most people would have said they were a fish in their past life if they love water."

He knocks shoulders with the other man to show his teasing.

Marco bumps him back and stretches his legs out so the waves can pull at his feet.

"Nah. I think sometimes we love something so much because we must have been denied it at some point."

"So not a fish, maybe a desert lizard or something. Oh! A cactus!"

Marco laughs. "I was thinking more along the lines of maybe a bird. Although I suppose a cactus is possible."

~~

"My mom died giving birth to me, so I never knew her. My dad was.. we were never really close. He was gone a lot. I think he loved me but.." Ace trails off.

Thunder rumbles outside and shakes the window panes.

"I almost drowned when I was younger. My dad lost track of me and I went under. He got me out but the water in my lungs was dirty and gave me nasty infection. It was touch and go for awhile, I guess. I think he blamed himself. We were never the same after that and he died 2 years later."

The smell of cedar curls out of the fire to whisper against his cheek.

Marco's eyes burn indigo and gold from the fire, harsh shadows cast across his face.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure your mother loved you very much and your dad too. Sometimes it can be hard to show how much you care."

~~

Shanks was unusually stonefaced at the door, Benn next to him finishing a cigarette.

"Hey Shanks. I didn't know you were coming...?" He leaves his greeting open ended with hopes of getting a clue on what was happening but he doesn't get anything.

"Hey kid. Thought we'd swing by, see how it's going."

He lets them in and a door upstairs slams shut.

They all look up and Ace leds them to the kitchen when nothing else happens.

"You want a drink?"

"Yeah, actually that'd be great."

They don't say anything else while Ace gets the drinks and it's making him sweat.

He puts the drinks down and follows suit, sitting at the old oak table across from the two men and waits. He hasn't hung a clock yet but the sound of one ticking can be heard loud and clear.

A piece of the ceiling that he hasn't gotten around to fixing yet falls on Shanks head, who grumbls and looks up before taking a big drink.

"I know, I know."

He takes a deep breath and looks Ace in the eyes.

"Alright, this is something I should have done years ago but I wasn't sure how to do it. Probably didn't want to if I'm honest."

Ace swallows nervously and shots a look at Benn, who lifts another cigarette and lights it without saying anything.

"I told you when I gave you the house that'd I'd been holding onto it for someone. I was. It was someone who had been like a father to me growing up. His name was Roger and he lived here with his wife, Rouge."

He stops and takes another drink.

"Rouge died and Roger disappeared. If I'm being honest, I think he took off somewhere to die of a broken heart. He was devastated. Rouge would have kicked his ass if she knew what he'd done but he didn't know how to live without her anymore. They'd lived in this house with the intention of raising a family and it ended up empty."

"I'm sorry."

Ace isnt really sure what to say but it's clear this is hard for Shanks.

"It wasn't a good situation and he didn't handle it well. Roger was a good man. People who didn't knew him may say otherwise but he always did right by me. He took care of Rouge and his friends, everyone else was unimportant. Which, I suppose, may make him a bad man in a lot of people's eyes."

He puts the drink down and reaches in his pocket to take out a folded photo. He gazes at it for a moment before setting it down and sliding it over to Ace.

It was the couple. The man and women he'd seen in the sketchbook and now had names for, Rouge and Roger.

"I found some of their stuff. I didn't think about if you'd wa-... would you like it?"

It was hard to look away from the couple but he forced himself to look up.

"No. That's actually why we're here. Rogue and Roger were your parents."

The house is quiet, almost as quiet as the first time Ace had stepped foot in it.

"I don't understand. People always told me that my mom died giving birth to me and I knew my dad."

Benn puts out his cigarette when Shanks doesn't say anything and takes over.

"A friend of your dad took you in. We thought he'd be the best option. As for your mom, she did die during childbirth. Rouge lived long enough to hold you and give you your name before she died."

He wants to deny it. He wants to yell, tell them this was a stupid joke or that it doesn't make sense.

It does though. He'd never asked too much about his mom, already ached for a mother he never got to know and details would just hurt more. The man who he had known as his father hadn't looked like him. He doesn't doubt that the man cared but small things that hadn't made sense at the time now start to.

All of the sudden the photo is cruel. He can see his freckles on her face, his dark hair and stormy eyes on him, can see the shape of his face and eyes in both of them. All of it was looking back at him from a photo older than he was.

"This is cruel." His eyes sting but it wasn't anything to how his chest aches. "This is the cruelest thing you could have ever done to me."

They don't say anything and he doesn't want them to.

"Get out."

"...I'm sorry, Ace."

"Just get out." The front door is already open and he follows them as far as the threshold.

"They loved you." Shanks says.

"What am I suppose to do with that? What's suppose to hurt less in this situation? The idea that mom left because she died and Roger made the decision to leave because I wasn't enough of a reason to live or they loved me and you kept that from me?"

The door closes with a heavy sound and echoes through an empty house.

#one piece #op #portgas d ace #marco the phoenix #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #nami #sanji #usopp #tony tony chopper #brook one piece #franky one piece #robin nico #shanks one piece #benn beckman #gol d. roger #marcoace #marace #mugiwarapirates #straw hat pirates #whitebeard crew #whitebeard pirates #mugiwara crew #strawhats #parts of fic #hints of zosan #hints of lawlu #setting sail with greyskyflowers

[anderwhohn]

It's still very rough around the edges, and it still needs some work to try to handle with how some people format their posts, but... I finally managed to wrangle together a userscript for myself to change multiple spaced text to single text. This is something I've been trying to do on and off for some time now, and now I've got a "quick and dirty" version working.

I say that because it seems to struggle with preserving line breaks if someone used Shift+Enter rather than creating a new paragraph block. I don't know how much of that is the code, or how much of it is just because of tumblr's weird post editing, since I can't risk going through and trying to find examples of the new editor vs the legacy editor in terms of the spacing aesthetic because, oddly enough, I don't want a bloody migraine.

Regardless, this means less risk to me in the event that someone forgets to tag it for the blacklist - or tumblr fails to filter it despite it being tagged. This does not replace the need to blacklist tag the aesthetic, however, because I do also check things on mobile, where this userscript isn't available to me, and even then, it's very much in its alpha stage and isn't going to be completely reliable.

But the risk is reduced, so that's good at least. But it also means I might occasionally reblog something with the spacing unknowingly. I do have the script set to be excluded on the drafts page at the moment, because it fucks up the post editor a bit when loaded from the drafts (which is where I always open the editor from - something to do with the way the url changes between the page you're on and then the post editor (whether starting a new post and/or editing an existing one) causes some issues with getting Tampermonkey to recognise it as a 'new page' since it opened a thing on top of the page you were currently on instead of actually navigating elsewhere; complicated stuff that I don't know all about to enough of an extent to explain it, but otherwise yeah), so hopefully it won't be an issue, but just in case something does slip by me, that's why.

Anyway, yay for hopefully fewer migraine days inadvertently caused by scrolling the dash?

#trying to design something completely foolproof ( code wrangling ) #out of coffee ( ooc )

[sentfromwolves]

Leaves & apple

🍂 leaves: what does your editing process look like? how does your wip typically change as you work on it?

It's BANANAS! 0/10 do not recommend! Haha but for real, I am someone who will often end up with several rewrites of a manuscript before I feel like I have finally reached the perfect tone, fit of narrative, and character journeys to call it complete. I generally will break it down to look something like this:

First draft: unhinged writing through to the end. I don't edit as I go, I don't stop and polish. I barrel through to the end. This draft is mostly meant for setting and rough character emotional journeys. I don't think I have ever written a first draft that maintains the full structural integrity of its underlying plot throughout my editing process. Second draft/full rewrite: yep. you heard right. I have not done a manuscript yet that does not then enter the full rewrite stage inside of the second draft. This is when I polish the setting that I've developed to really learn the tone that I want the story within it to have. This is also where I'll begin to really polish up the shape of the story, which often has some major overhauls to better align with what I really envision. From then on, I'll generally do revisions inside of a third draft that isn't a full rewrite to get into the lines, clean up the typos and repeat words and minor plot holes. In some cases I'll eventually do another whole rewrite, but I always hope that's done after the second draft. The kind of tldr is that my wip changes dramatically. Sometimes I'll write half of a whole rewrite on a whole different tone just to see what it does. I never have a clear cut process, but the rough shape of what I do have is honestly madness.

🍎 apple: let’s talk about friendship in your wip. do you have any favorite friend/platonic dynamics? any friendships gone sour?

Platonic relationships are some of my favorite things to write. I'm a huge fan of exploring relationships with prehistory before the narrative begins, especially friendships. I generally have a ton of complex group dynamics in my core cast that I'll go absolutely ham with. Some of my favorites are: childhood best friends gone sour or distant, reunited by the plot / childhood best friends that become lovers / platonic soulmates from birth (bonus points if they are born on the same day or with each other literally since infancy) / unbreakable trio that grows up together and will always have each others backs, etc etc

#answered #thanks for the ask!!! #shut up eran

[uozlulu]

Now that I've wrapped my head around what I'm doing, i realized I need an alternating POV so I get to rewrite two scenes from Armand's POV

So I'm stashing the original rough draft versions here in case that doesn't work out in the long term

===

Daniel checked the classroom number on his notepad. A poster advertising auditions for <i>Phantom of the Opera</i> covered the door. Daniel knocked.

“Enter,” a voice called out from deep within the room.

Daniel blinked and then did just that without thought.

Armand looked up from his desk, their gaze meeting. His dark eyes widened a moment and his lips parted. His mind seemed to spin for a moment and then he said, “Are you Mr. Molloy?”

Daniel could not tear his gaze away. He opened his mouth and closed it. Something stirred within him but he pushed it down quickly as he entered the room. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “You must be Mr. Armand.”

“That’s what the kids call me. To adults, I’m just Armand.” He got up from his desk and crossed the room to offer Daniel his hand.

Daniel took it. Armand’s grip was firm and tight. Armand’s hand lingered and then he let go slowly. “No last name?” Daniel asked.

“No one can pronounce it,” Armand said. He returned to the desk and picked up a stack of papers. He handed them to Daniel. “These are your daughter’s assignments from this week.”

Daniel took the papers, their fingers brushing in the process. Armand remained close as Daniel flipped through the assignments. Many were only partially done and a few were completely blank with only Jess’ name across the top. “Jesus.”

“I’ve heard from her other teachers that this is a habit,” Armand said. “If this continues, she’ll have to leave the school.”

Daniel sighed. “She’s even failing art class. She draws all the time.”

“She’s on top of the reading and a leader in discussions,” Armand said, “but she also seems distracted.”

Daniel nodded. He certainly kept thinking about how closer Armand stood, how all he could smell was a faint scent of cologne. “I’ll talk to her about it.” He looked away from Armand. His eyes found their way to a photo on the desk. Armand stood in the center of several people who looked like they were celebrating something back in university.

Armand followed his gaze. “That’s my theater troupe. We run the community theater on Saturdays and then go out to the club once the show’s over.”

“Seems lively,” Daniel said.

“You should take in a show sometime and sit in the front row. I’ll look for you,” Armand said.

Daniel wondered if Armand would really notice him despite the glare from the stage lights. He mentally shook himself. He should not be thinking about taking Armand up on this offer. “I’ll think about it,” he said despite himself.

Armand smiled and guided Daniel to the door with a hand on his back. “I look forward to it,” he said almost in Daniel’s ear.

Daniel nodded and exited the room. The door closed behind him. A shiver traversed his body. He took several deep breaths and looked at the papers in his arms and immediately the thrill left his body. It was time to collect the girls and leave.

===

The new routine was easy to adapt. On weekdays, Daniel woke early, wrote until his stomach could not take it anymore, had lunch, worked on other things, and then kept track of the girls after school until Alice returned home at night. On Friday nights, he took the girls home with him to his two-bedroom apartment. On Saturdays, they found fun things to do and he took a break from writing. By Saturday night, the girls were back with Alice so they could go to church on Sundays. Daniel devoted his Sundays to research for his next article. Mandy was still smoking, but smarter about where she kept her cigarettes. Jess managed to complete her assignments. Daniel made more progress on his book. It was routine. It was monotonous. It lent well to writing.

The air had a fall chill to it now. The moon hung low on the horizon. Daniel put his hands in his pockets, one arm around his laptop bag slung across his body. People passed him and paid him no mind. He stopped at a crosswalk and waited for a light. Someone’s arm brushed his. Daniel glanced at them and blinked.

Armand looked back at him. “Good evening, Mr. Molloy.”

Daniel stared longer than he could have. They both started walking in the sea of people cross the street. “Hey.” He paused. “You can call me Daniel.” It was weird otherwise like an episode of an old 50’s sitcom.

Armand nodded towards a nightclub nearby. The line stretched down the sidewalk even though it was a weekday. “Have you ever been to Night Island?”

“No,” Daniel said. “Is it good?”

“There’s no dress code. Everyone is welcome.” Armand kept watching him but did not walk into a single person or object in their path. “The Saturday before Halloween is their best night. Everyone goes in costume.”

Daniel glanced back at the line. Alice and his editor both encouraged him to get back out there lately. He made a note to look it up the next time he was online. He remembered the photo on Armand’s desk. “So you like costumes and theatrics.”

“I like many things,” Armand said. He touched Daniel’s arm. “This is where I leave. Let’s find each other again.” He headed to an apartment complex nearby. It was only a block away from Daniel’s apartment.

Daniel watched him go and let out a long low sigh. He could still feel Armand’s fingers on his arm. He was already considering going to Trinity Gate. He was losing his mind.

#adventures in fic writing #i knew i should have alternated them from the get go but i didn't trust myself enough when i began writing last night

[ithilienns]

5, 11 and 12!

Ooohh thank for asking ☺️🥰

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

For 2022 I have sadly only published one fic and to my absolute surprise it’s for HOTD? I didn’t even plan on watching the show and now I’m back to not only writing fic but also actually publishing it in a timely fashion? I blame all the fun I’m having with the High Valyrian dialogue, because nothing gets me excited to geek out like conlangs and when it takes hours for you to figure out a handful of lines of dialogue then I’m just desperate that all that work doesn’t join my drafts graveyard lol.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

I’ve been working on a queens of Númenor fic FOR YEARS. Not even joking. My main problem is I get stuck in the feels and it becomes debilitating. I spent a good chunk of this year editing it (and it’s not even a very long fic, I just keep changing my mind). I don’t think it counts because I haven’t published it this year, but it’s coming sometime (I hope).

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Ooof buckle up, I just had to dive down into my draft graveyard and just gave up counting!!! 😳

Tolkien Legendarium

- Spring of the Elvenking: Set in the Fourth Age, a sort of outside perspective on the fading of the elves. I wrote in full About two years ago and then accidentally deleted it so I had to rely on an early draft. Obviously I lost a bunch of motivation because of that (especially because I put so much effort into editing it!!) but I want to just get it out there because I was super proud of it.

- Queens of Númenor fic

- Faramir fic

- Éowyn fic (maybe parallels Faramir, maybe standalone, I haven’t edited so I can do either at this stage)

- Elrond fic

- Fíriel of Gondor fic

- Dunlendings / Rohan war + Long Winter fic

- Míriel and Indis fic

- I also would have sworn I wrote a fic that was a bit more fun about the shire but I can’t find it anywhere so maybe it was a fever dream or more likely it was in the folder I accidentally deleted along with my Spring of the Elvenking fic.

Other fandoms:

ASOIAF/HOTD/GOT:

- I reread the Dunk and Egg short stories (even if you don’t like game of thrones stuff, I’d recommend. Very fun, relatively wholesome and in the same universe but ~100 years before GOT and ~100 after HOTD so you don’t need to remember names etc.) Because of this, I’ve lost my mind and decided to write my attempt at a the 4th instalment because it’s not like its coming anytime soon :/ So far, I have not had good results lol.

- An angsty fic on Aegon III’s legacy for his three daughters (particularly Elaena)

- Some other miscellaneous stuff for fic challenges I’ve entered just to get back into the writing habit (plus I’m having so much fun with the High Valyrian, conlangs are my jam!!!)

Merlin

- A post-canon fic dedicated to angsty once and future king times with lonely Merlin, but it’s a rough draft

- Morgana character study (because I love women and most of all I love HER)

I’ve also got some fics for other non-fantasy fandoms that are well overdue an update, but the longer I wait to get back to writing then the guiltier I feel and I just stop!!!

Anyway, thank you for asking!!! 😊

#asks #fanfic #writing

[wulfganggott]

These are some renders of my VRChat temple I made in blender a year or two ago. I was just experimenting with different lighting and procedural texturing so it is quite literally an incomplete rough draft but I figured it pretty enough to post.

The temple floor plan was traced from a masonic temple lodge floorplan. The roof was inspired from the Pantheon but has 72 indentations to symbolize the 72 demons of the Goetia and 72 Angels of the Shemhamephorash which are themselves associated with a 360 day year divided into 5 day segments and associated with various star groups.

The walls have 36 rooms (which now contain medieval art in my VR world) and 36 symbolizes the Decans.

There are 7 levels from temple floor to the stage to symbolize the 7 planets.

Now the checkerboard in my VR world is 8 by 13 squares to symbolize the Fibonacci ratio and there's also a chess set there now so you can play "long chess"

The 12 pillars symbolize the 12 zodiac months and the black and white pillars symbolize Jachim and Boaz, which is essentially the Yin and Yang of the Qabalah and is always featured in masonic temples.

Finally the three doors are based off the Cambodian temples I visited in Angkor Wat and the tallest door symbolizes the East, the rising sun and the "god-king" (In ancient Angkor only the king could walk through an eastern door, whereas all the other doors where so small it forced everyone who entered to bow upon entering.)

I wish I could keep this kind of lighting in VRChat but the Unity game engine does not import lighting and texturing from blender very easily so my VRChat version is much shittier.

#blender#cycles#3d#vrchat#astrology#qabalah#temple#masonic#freemason#magick#mysticism#architecture#pantheon#symbolism#worldbuilding#CGI#hermeticism

#blender #cycles #3d #vrchat #astrology #qabalah #temple #masonic #freemason #magick #mysticism #architecture #pantheon #symbolism #worldbuilding #CGI #hermeticism

[tamlynstales]

Beats and Sparks✨ CONT'D

*Playing with the idea of writing scripts as rough drafts for fiction

CHARACTERS

DARE: Vampire bard (college of whispers) about 220 years old. Long red hair, haunted forest green eyes and a cunning smile; about 5’7” He/Him

CARRI: Tiefling bard (college of spirits) reborn/undead, age unknown. Alabaster skin, white short curly hair, one white horn, one black that flows into a black masquerade mask tattoo; The "mask" is decorated with tiny ornamentations of skulls and music notes. Their eyes are a glossy gray color, but they wear a bright red lipstick on their upper lip; about 5’11” They/Them

MOOT: Satyr bard (college of glamor) think Philoctetes in Hercules, but wearing a funky patterned shirt; about 5’  He/Him 

WREN: thin/lean humanoid form, she has long honey blonde hair (usually braided), warm hazel eyes, and their pale skin seems somewhat translucent with a dull radiant light emanating from within; about 5’6” They/She

SCENE 1

INT - The Last Drop’s basement venue

Post-show (like 2am) breakdown stage - dancefloor is empty but patrons loiter on the balcony and in the back alley; the tavern upstairs is busy. Carri’s zombie entourage are helping pack up equipment and load it back into the Pocket Hole, while Carri is busy entertaining a handful of excited fans (recent additions to the growing student population of the Keen Observatory College); Carri balancing on the edge of the stage. Moot enters from backstage, post shutting down the lights and various stage effects. 

 [the (college) students are listening enraptured as CARRI tells an outlandish tale of an unmasking. MOOT walks up and listens to the end of the story, also curious. Waits a beat or two]

MOOT: clears throat Hey Carri, sorry to interrupt but that was an incredible show! Never had anything like you and your music come through here before. And let me tell ya this stage has seen some shit ya know? [laughs to himself - Carri rolls their eyes slightly and gestures for the “Fanclub” to wait a moment] Anyway, here’s your cut for the evening [hands over coin purse (125 gp)] and drinks are on the house for the night. 

CARRI: [lightly tosses the coin purse for weight, then throws it into the Pocket Hole still up on the wall. Runs a hand through their white curls] Thank you Moot. I hope more of my outstanding performances will grace this stage (sickly sweet). And maybe next time you and I can practice some stage effects [mouth curls in slightest of sneer]. 

M: That’d be great actually! Could maybe get some floating illusion orbs from [?someone in Crescent Port?] and program some fog clouds…  continues rambling effect ideas 

[CARRI tunes MOOT out and begins to scan the room, FANCLUB on the balcony by the alley door, gray eyes follow the flow of people until they find DARE, weaving his way through the crowd on the balcony toward the alley door; Wren in more sci-fi garb follows DARE closely, a smile on her lips] 

M: … and I’m not sure how your crystal lights work, but I could talk to Sable and maybe we could get some display lasers? And if everything goes—

C: [interrupting] We can work out all the details later; perhaps once the next show’s fliers have made their rounds? 

M: slight stunned nod [tracks Carri’s gaze to Dare just as he exits to the alley] sly smile 

C: For now, I have friends to get back to.  À toute à l'heure. [turns from MOOT and pulls down the Pocket Hole (everything now back inside) rolls it up and ties it around their wrist. Exiting the stage and making their way to the balcony] 

M: Yeah yeah [MOOT smiles to himself, and departs to go help tend bar] 

…

SCENE 2

EXT Alley behind the Last Drop - purple/red neon lights and some wooden crates to sit on.

A few patrons linger back here, enjoying the cool air and clustering in small groups of intimate conversations. Dare and Wren are leaning against the alley walls, in the shadows; hands casually intertwining, they share a smoke. 

The alley meets street to the left (from the stairs) going right following the building eventually curves around to street as well, little funky Y tail of the alley dead ends in between some buildings (right, then left) and is a well known spot for lovers to slip off to. 

[CARRI and the FANCLUB enter from the stairs, finding a cluster of crates to sit and some smoke. Carri claims the central crate like a throne. DARE catches the noise of the group, but is happily focused on WREN; clawing hunger reaching up his throat. They both press a little further into the shadow.]

FAN1: [pulling on a vape] So how did you all get to Quelleburn Keep? 

FAN2: I heard most folk who aren’t apart the trading companies found their way here in all sorts of odd ways. 

FAN3 (artificer): pushes up glasses Well we are on an interdimensional island in space, so there’s probably all manner of rifts and oddities in the planes-time; not to mention the ways high level magic could – 

FAN4 (the super hot one): [interrupting] Don’t be silly! Yes, this place is weird but most people have either moved here or come here to learn something; there are some apprentices at Keen who’ve been there for years. 

CARRI: I wonder, of you, who has the most curious tale of coming to be here? [looks around as though daring one of them to speak first] 

FAN1: grins cheekily Alright so it’s a ploy. I ask cause I’ve got a good answer. 

[CARRI and the FANCLUB continue swapping travel stories of how they all found their way to Quelleburn. Carri skirts answering questions as much as possible, and takes the opportunity to direct the flow of convo. Eventually, some? of the FANCLUB will depart.]

POV SHIFT: changes from Carri and their group to just up the alley, in a little quiet nook by a tall stack of crates, Dare and Wren lean against the wall, and each other, conversing and sharing a cig. From Dare’s POV - Wren is between him and the crates, and he can see Carri (profile among the group and other patrons) to his left back toward the stairs.

WREN: [tracing lines of tension on Dare’s brow, tucking a loose strand behind his ear, before taking the cig from his lips] So how was the retrieval mission? Are you allowed to talk about it now, side smile or does the cat still have your tongue? [takes a drag and glances away]

DARE: chuckles No, the cat no longer has my tongue. I was simply acquiring a piece for Tabitha’s latest project; a fragment of some sort of large metal magic circle. Have no idea what it does, but that’s not my “specialty” according to her. [They pass the cig, and Dare takes a drag. Exhaling:] The planet it was on was a draconic ruled society. I had to get the fragment from some secret tunnels underneath a giant horde sucks teeth. Can’t say I had perfect execution [pulls back sleeve to show a set of freshly scared dragon bites along his forearm, WREN winces] but I managed it – after a few tries… [gaze falls to the ground]

WREN: [pulls Dare’s chin up and kisses him softly, her dull glow behind closed eyelids] Well, I am certainly glad you are back. [takes cig, drags, exhales] Alright, firstly let’s get you fed - you look like a ghost.  Then we’ll celebrate your safe return. [puts cig out and takes his hand, pulling Dare toward the dead end] 

[DARE laughs softly and follows after her. The sharp edge of his fangs pressing into his lower lip. SUDDENLY his throat is on fire and he’s burning from the inside out; vision goes red, tunnels and eyes go black but for glowing green iris’. Dare darts forward picking her up and in a blur of motion they are in the alley’s dead end; there’s one door, a small dumpster and more crates back here. LORE: the door leads to Francis’ Infirmary and Plant Nursery] 

DARE: [pressing Wren too hard against the stone wall] through gritted teeth Sorry darling.

[DARE pins Wren’s hands under one of his own, the other tips her chin back and tightens around her throat. His tongue runs along his teeth – So thirsty, a whispered thought. Teeth sink through flesh, like puncturing a grape, the fire within being met with first drops of rain; Wren flinches but relaxes as the embrace takes hold. At first the fire rises to meet the rain, and seems to burn hotter Heartbeat scales begin to tip, thirst to slake Heartbeat thick and sweet, crisp like apples Heartbeat like the first breath of oxygen in a decade H-h-heartbeat]

[DARE pulls back quickly, blinking his eyes as the black fades, and releases Wren’s hands, holding her now gently. WREN sways, and tips into him; their glow faltering.]

DARE: whispers in Wren’s ear Don’t go out on me starlight. I thought you were trying to teach me how to live [casts cure wounds]

[The wounds on WREN’s neck close to a thin pink scar, and her glow steadies. Blearily their eyes open and refocus]

WREN: [takes a long black sleeve to Dare’s chin, still groggy] Why are you always such a messy eater?

DARE: guilt knotting along his brow I’m so sorry love. Sometimes I can’t stop the thirst [Or is it more like you don’t want to?] but I can take away the pain. [hums a tone, the notes carry even after he’s sung them, sings a phrase in celestial – casts modify memory]

[spell visual]

WREN: [blinking now clearing eyes, she moans and pinches her brow] Mmm, headache… but worth it. winks

DARE: [assembling the charming veneer over his tortured emotions] As per our arrangement. winks Would you like to rest a bit dear? We do have all night. 

WREN: [wraps their arms around his shoulders, and leans into him more] Yes please, she smiles, I just want to close my eyes for an hour. 

DARE: [picks her up, and kisses their forehead] If you wish it. 

[DARE, carrying Wren, heads back toward the stairs back into The Last Drop.]

POV SHIFT: to see Carri and FAN1 making out, as they hear movement, Carri presses FAN1 into the shadows and puts a hand over their mouth. Carri glances over as Dare carries Wren around the corner, Did he have blood on his lips? Curious. 

[CARRI leans over FAN1 for a breath, meeting their imploring gaze, before suddenly releasing them and stepping back]

CARRI: rolls eyes teasingly Bored now. Allons-y [gestures for them to follow and turns back toward The Last Drop]

…

#dare #campaign turned fiction #dnd #oc #writers on tumblr #fantasy #lgbtq #rough draft #roughscript #my friends ocs #rated m

[grad503-poppi]

Week 8 Ideation & Timeline Reworking

We entered the ideation and expanding ideas stage of publication.

This is a very rough draft of my vision for the publication. Although looking at this now I realised it is too editorial considering Johnson Witehira is a mostly visual designer and aside from having his own typeface, the text in his work is minimal. 

This is some subject matter I pulled from his work that I want to use in my own work to keep in line with his style. I also noticed Johnson Witehira tends to only use different shades of red and white and black. He used these because they are traditional Maori colours and his main purpose when designing is to represent Maori design.  

Here I have sketched out possible layouts for each page/spread. For the front cover and back cover I want to keep it simplistic by having one main visual point with minimal text. I want to keep the front and back similar to open and close the publication tidily. Pushing further from my rough draft I have made the publication less text dominant and experimented with how I can include information within delving too far into editorial design. 

Moving onto the reworking of my timeline, I need to change it from a portrait A4 to a landscape A3. I want to keep the circular look as it aligns with a lot of lines that Johnson Witehira uses. However in my feedback from the formative I was told that the text on my timeline was hard to read. So I am experimenting with ways that I can keep things circular but still have readable text. 

Here I am expanding my chosen layout deciding how everything will fit together in the new format. 

[authornina]

The Tassle Worth the Hassle: Congratulations Sav!👨🏾‍🎓

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Chi kept standing up screaming Sav’s name when it got quiet and he ducked his head like he didn’t know who the hell her crazy ass was. She was doing it to purposely embarrass him. 

“Sit your ass down!” Ivy whispered. “You making us all look crazy!” 

“I love you Dayvion! I’m so proud of you baby!” Chi said one last thing before taking her seat.

The ceremony was long and many people in the stadium started becoming drowsy. Thank goodness they didn’t bring any of their children because no way could a bunch of two and one-year olds sit through this.

After two hours of honoring specific students, and guest speakers, Sav was up. He was graduating Summa Cum Laude and Lake couldn’t have been prouder. He and some other students were sitting on the stage. They’d been chosen to represent the student body because they held the highest distinctions amongst their peers. Of the three who’d held the highest distinctions, they voted and chose him to give the speech. 

When Sav stood up the whole class erupted. He was popular on campus not only as a ladies man but the weed man as well. They absolutely loved him. He was one of the few African Americans that attended the prestigious university, so it was easy to stand out. 

“Why are they goin’ up for my husband like this?” Chi asked, being drowned out by the amount of cheering happening for Sav. 

“Chill, y’all,” Sav said over the mic. “Dean Lee said she not for my shit—” he slipped up and everyone laughed. “I mean stuff today.”

The Dean who was also black shook her head at his use of language, but she knew how Dayvion Porter, which she addressed him as could be. They’d had several run ins over the course of his college career. The young man with tattoos galore, foul mouth and pants off his ass was indeed by measure the smartest one in the sea of thousands of students. She wanted this young black scholar to have his moment even in its rawness. This was black excellence being shown at a PWI and she was proud nonetheless. 

“Ummm…everybody know I ain’t wanna do this.” Sav did not try to sound intelligent or put on for nobody. They wanted him to give this speech he was going to do it as him. Educated and all, he was true to himself. “I told Dean Lee I would be honest and y’all still chose me so here we go…” 

“Fucking right bro!” A white guy shouted from the crowd. 

“I know a lot of us struggled to make it to this stage. Not only the amount of work we had to put in to make it here but the pressure, financial restraints, family issues, our mental incapacities at times…a lot more goes into just getting a degree. Picking something you can actually apply and let’s be honest, make money from in this nut ass world. Shout out to y’all who got art degrees, it’s about to be hell,” Sav said honestly and the audience died of laughter. “I know some of y’all personally who went through some of this. To be honest, ion know what it look like. I couldn’t relate because I didn’t have those problems. Y’all probably thought I’m the made it out the hood specialty case. I had a big brother who not only kept pushing me to finish but made sure I didn’t have not one worry while doing it, so this was a breeze for me actually. I don’t need no college degree, but I did this for one person and one person only. My brother Lake. I wanna honor him with this because a lot of the great people, the ones behind the scenes who never get recognized are the real ones that make it happen. I was able to run a whole business, get married, have kids, live my life stress free. He gave me what I know a lot of people who look like me never get. A peace of mind. A care-free life, the tools I needed to be successful and I thank him for that every day.” Sav was looking right at Lake. “My brother the reason why I get to stand here right now…so this to the single moms out here doing it all on their own that got their kids to this day, to the dads working day and night to pay for tuitions, the grandparents, siblings, aunties and uncles who put their all into a kid to see them do better. If it wasn’t for y’all, I’m sure we wouldn’t be up in here falling asleep and waiting to hear our name called for a degree we couldn’t have gotten without y’all.” 

Although the ceremony wasn’t done after Sav’s speech all the students felt every word he said and so did the families there to support them. 

“Wait…” Dean Lee got up ready to stop them but it was too late all the graduates were up on their feet, throwing their caps in the air. It was like a big party started. It took twenty minutes to get everything settled then the degrees were finally handed out. 

“Dayvion Porter,” they called Sav’s name to receive his degree and it went crazy again. 

“That’s it!” the president of the school got up waving his hands then shouted in the mic. “Everyone please sit down!”                                                       ******* Lake waited patiently, watching Sav bump fists with a bunch of people because he wasn’t about to touch all them hands. He stood in his robe, medals and cords around his neck looking like a true scholar. He admired the hell out of his little brother. Not even for finishing but remaining authentic and true to himself during the process. Sav had his moments but everything he set out to accomplish, had been done. Lake couldn’t and wouldn’t ask anymore of him.

“You proud of me?” Sav asked, coming towards him with his arms out for hug.

“So proud man,” Lake smiled, embracing his baby brother. “I’m so fuckin’ proud.” 

“Thank you, where the fuck everybody go?” 

“Home, they didn’t want to stay around for the crowd and all the traffic.”

“Now you know that’s fucked up. Even my own wife? All this and them niggas dip on me? Take me home to my kids. Nobody better not say shit to me.”

“Chill, I wanted you to take a ride with me.”  

“Ion even feel like it.” Sav’s feelings were hurt. His whole family was worried about beating traffic than his big day. It upset him more because he didn’t even care about it as much as they did.

They had to get all of his gifts professors, the school, students and others got for him. Sav indeed was their favorite. Someone even gave him basketball season tickets. Once they were in the car Lake did his best not to laugh. Sav was really upset. 

“Why the fuck we here?” 

Lake pulled into to the strip club they used to frequent and Sav knew something was up now. His brother wasn’t allowed to be a hundred feet of no strippers per his wife’s rules. Only if she was DJing did Avery let him enter the building.

“Because I thought it would cheer you up.” 

“I told you I don’t feel like shit no more. Them niggas fucked my mood up. Especially, Chi, she really dipped on me. Her fuckin’ muscle head ass better hope ion divorce her.”

“Sav, relax, nigga,” Lake laughed lighting a blunt then passing it to him. “Hassan would be proud of you man.”

“Yea…” Sav put his head back blowing out smoke. “I be thinkin’ bout Daddy a lot.” 

“Me too, all the time actually…I wish he would’ve made it, seen you today. It’s moments like this that make life worth living.” Lake stared out the window. After a few seconds of silence, he reached in the back seat and handed Sav an envelope. 

“What’s this?” 

“I ain’t know what to get a nigga that got it all for a graduation gift.” 

“Aw man…” Sav looked at all the papers and got emotional. 

Lake knew it bothered him that he didn’t know where he came from for sure. He couldn’t do a traditional testing since their father was deceased and had been cremated. But there was sibling DNA test and because Sav, Lake, Vant and Wreck didn’t share the same mother, it was easy to get proof. If he wasn’t Hassan’s he’d have not an ounce of relation to them.  

“Sav even if that shit ain’t say what we already knew it wouldn’t have made you any less my brother. I hope you know that.” 

“Thanks man,” Sav dapped Lake up and he pulled him in for a hug.

“Why the fuck y’all sittin’ in here cuddling and shit?” Wreck was about to get in the back, but Lake had car seats. “Nigga, Avery whip don’t have nothing in it. I swear you and Vant the wives.” 

“Fuck you nigga,” Lake pushed him getting out the car. “Stop takin’ your anger out on everybody. I told you come talk to me, you wanna hide out and shit. Think Daly ain’t tell me the bullshit you been on.” 

“I ain’t got nothing to say, and Daly a nut for bringin’ shit to you like I’m not a grown ass man! It’s fuck everything and that’s on my Daddy.” Wreck walked over and dapped Sav up. “I’m proud of you nigga.” 

“Are you really bro?” 

“Yea! Ion mean to be so hard on you. I apologize. Just…you know I’m dealin’ with my own shit right now, but I love you man.”

“I know, it’s cool, I love you too.” Sav felt bad for his brother. Wreck didn’t know which way he was going. It had spread about Gia breaking up with him. A simple, I don’t want to be with you anymore, was all the reason she gave him. That’s all he got from her. Wreck opened himself up to a woman for the last time. 

“Let’s go in here, I can’t be out for long or A will come lookin’ for me.” 

“Cause you a whipped ass—” 

“Y’all keep saying that,” Lake laughed, cutting Wreck off. “But I’m happy as fuck. I have no resistance in letting love take over me anymore.” 

“And you know what? I am genuinely jealous and that ain’t even me bro.” 

“Wreck,” Lake stopped walking. “I’m for real, come talk to me. Tomorrow, nigga.” 

“Everything already fucked up, bro. Gia will never be with me again.” 

“How?” Sav asked.

“Ion wanna talk about it.” 

“What the hell is taking so long?!” Chi pushed the door open. 

“Fuck is you doing here?” Sav looked at Lake confused. “I did not ask to come here, Chi. Lake brought me. I was on the way home.” He started defending himself immediately. 

“Get in here, Dayvion.” Chi pulled him along and it was dark as hell on the inside.

“SURPRISE!” the lights, loud ass music and cheering all happened at the same time. The whole club was decorated in his school colors with a big ass banner congratulating him. Everybody was holding cutouts of Sav’s head from his graduation photo. 

“You did this for me?” Sav wanted to cry.

“Mhm…” 

“I love you,” Sav kissed her all the way down on the couch. 

“Stop Sav!” Chi laughed. “My dress is comin’ up! You doin’ all this in front of people!” 

“Can I give my brother a hug now?” Dem asked and they let each other go. “I’m proud of you bul.” 

“Thank you.” Sav hugged Dem longer than he did his own wife. Chi was over trying to get in between something that Sav needed to literally survive, to breathe and have good days. They were working through a lot of things and as long as he prioritized her and their children then he could love on Dem all he wanted. 

“I’m so proud of you, boo boo,” Ivy said kissing her baby all over. 

“Ard come on with all that shit,” Vant tore them apart. “We got a surprise for you later,” he whispered making Sav laugh.

“Shout out to my young nigga Sav! Congratulations bro!” DJ AP shouted in the mic sounding like a nigga making everybody crack the fuck up. She was barely six weeks post-partum and came out to party for her favorite person much to Lake’s dismay. “This one for you baby!” Avery pointed at him then played Nicki Minaj Moment for Life. Sav wouldn’t openly admit he was a fan. 

“No, I'm not lucky, I'm blessed, yes, clap for the heavyweight champ, me! But I couldn't do it all alone, we!” Sav jumped on all his brothers. The moment was so nice. “Lake Porter raised me,” he remixed the lyrics. 

Lake looked at Wreck who was visibly sad and hugged his brother and in front of everyone Wreck received it because he really needed it. 

“It’s gon’ be okay, ard?” 

“Yea…” Wreck didn’t want to ruin his little brother’s day so he decided to just put his own issues aside for the time being. Vant handed him a drink patting his back. 

“It’s ard bro.” 

“Put ya drinks up,” Dem held his glass in the air with is arm wrapped around Sav. “It's a celebration, every time we link up, we done did everything, they can think of, greatness, is what we on the brink of!”

“I WISH THAT I COULD HAVE THIS MOMENT FOR LIFE!” everyone sang 

#on us #authornina #nina

[hydranomago]

◆ Ad-Live 2016 (Night Session) 

-- Asanuma Shintaro & Hiro Shimono 

Summary:  Masato (Hirotan) uses “Mind Dive” to enter the consciousness of his friend Kenji (AsaShin) who is in a coma, but he’s a vampire? 

Aftertalk bonus: 

AsaShin on why he chugged a whole bottle of “blood tomato juice” on stage:  “It’s my teeth; if you drink in sips every thing starts dripping down, and the whole costume will be stained in red. The only way to drink anything with these things is to tilt your head back and finish the whole bottle.” 

Hirotan: (laughing) “You had trouble eating backstage too didn’t you?” 

[Please click on this post for the (Day Session)]

--------

For plot and images, please keep reading below: 

The stage opens with instructions from Mind Dive, stating rules that Masato cannot break while using Mind Dive to delve into Kenji’s mind. The main one is that he can only hint at things to reignite Kenji’s memory, and is forbidden from telling him things outright. Kenji must figure things out for himself first. 

Masato is given a rough draft of a quiz to get started, and it is here that we see that the Kenji he knows has changed; he is no longer human but a vampire. Masato reasons logically that Kenji’s consciousness made him into a vampire in his own mind because it was something he wanted to be in order to escape his life. Masato laments that it’s all the reading Kenji did to have made him conjure the image of a vampire. 

Kenji has no idea who his human self is at this point, and is fully immersed into being a vampire, claiming memories which span thousands of years ago, and despising human things. 

(No one can resist Hirotan’s chest) 

Masato and Kenji are given chances to speak to each other, and are also given chances to choose certain “locations” which may help spark Kenji’s memory. One of them is a factory. Masato reveals that this was actually the first place they met, and the audience discovers as Kenji does that both Masato and Kenji are parallels: their father is gone, leaving them to be the head of the house; they are both poor; they are high school dropouts; and they are best friends. 

(Sniffing uniforms to figure out whose is whose, the human has stronger senses here) 

(Hirotan immediately forming the cross lol) 

They were the only ones of similar age in the factory, so Masato approached an introverted, sullen Kenji. Although Kenji was hesitant at first, Masato kept pestering him until they became friends. They used to eat only the crusts of bread for lunch in the factory, and played a ridiculous game of soccer together. Masato is teary, to be able to talk to Kenji again like this, is nostalgic and painful. 

On the way to the next location, they meet Kaori. Kaori is Kenji’s partner, and his fiancée; but Kenji does not remember her even though he has mostly remembered Masato. Kaori and Masato try to jog his memory, bringing up the games they used to play as children (translated hilariously on stage). 

 Kaori has to leave at the next stop, but before she goes, she begs Kenji to return to them; she doesn’t need riches, she will work harder, all she wants is for him to come back. Kenji says he will do his best. Kaori praises them both, saying that the bond of their friendship is strong and priceless. At this point, Masato looks immensely uncomfortable, but reassures Kaori to leave it to him.

The next location is the inside of a prison cell. Masato reveals a map torn into half, and what they did to have caused Kenji to slip into a coma. Kenji’s mother had fallen immensely ill, and between the medical costs and the costs for his wedding, he was left with little alternative. He and Masato planned to rob a bank, but things went horribly wrong: Kenji was involved in the accident, and Masato was caught by the police. Masato was promptly fired, causing him to spiral into working many odd jobs to the bone in order to keep up. But that is not what Masato wants to say. 

Masato begs for forgiveness, reassuring Kenji that if he returns, he’ll do anything for him; he’ll support him and Kaori in whatever way he can, he’ll help pay the medical fees, anything. (It is here that Asa’s ad-lib prompt reads: “let’s kiss”, which causes Hirotan to jump from shock and the audience to whoop.) They are reconciled. 

The Mind Dive announces that time has run out; Masato frantically asks Kenji to return. He shoves towards Kenji a letter before disappearing. 

Letter: 

apologises for his faults, and what they did 

begs Kenji to return ( “without you, I don’t have anyone else” ) 

 his own mother was diagnosed with lung cancer, and though treatment worked he now owes a lot of money to many people 

he was going crazy, so he used Mind Dive to come here and meet Kenji again 

apologises for the letter being about his problems, even though Kenji has many worries himself 

was afraid Kenji may not have wanted to see him again, may have hated him; but now and forever he treats Kenji as his best friend -- other than Kenji, he has no one else to rely on 

“I’ll wait for you. If you forgive me, if you want to do many stupid things together again; even though this pains me to say, please bring the sum of money to the place where we both first met (factory). I’m waiting for you. I believe you’ll come.” 

As stage is lighted again, we see Masato pacing around in the factory. Kenji and Kaori appear, and they chat like old friends. At the very last moment, Masato pulls out a gun and points it towards the others. The stage darkens. We hear two shots. 

(Closing shot after the play) 

#seiyuu #adlive #ad-live #adlive2016 #asanuma shintaro #shintaro asanuma #hiro shimono #hirotan #asashin #funny #translation #voice actors #vampire #AI #stage #stage play #this play gave me so many feels for no reason #shimono hiro