#objectively an awkward pose but its not the point. i just wanted to draw his face and hair at that angle. the rest is small potatoes.

[alfheimr]

mithrun 🌞

#dungeon meshi #mithrun #objectively an awkward pose but its not the point. i just wanted to draw his face and hair at that angle. the rest is small potatoes. #shoutout once again to clip studio paint asset ID 2031117 “liquid” brush which made it much easier for me to plan & line his hair <3 #“liquid” brush is my new best friend.

[destinywillowleaf]

hey @greentrickster i made a basically full (rough) spriteset for this AU. literally the only things missing are his 6-5 breakdown and a version of Apollo's disheartened sprite(cause he looks more frazzled than disheartened or discouraged at the end of his surprise set(s)) and it would be done.

also featuring "Nahyuta is vaguely like a fallen angel" in color because it turns out the implications his scarf had were "another Japanese cultural shorthand that conveys Nahyuta’s holiness and suggests that he is like a god" and "not unlike a character with a pair of angel wings in the West" so that's. fun. (both links lead to the same page btw) not sure how godly Apollo get to be as a result. probably not that much tbh sorry bro.

anyway, sprites! in order, top to bottom, left to right, left page!

normal/neutral, thinking (and transition into talking and thinking, the side profile is a reference for how his hand's positioned), desk slam into determined (his left hand comes up and is a fist on the desk), objection point, confident (two versions).

right page!

shock 1, shock 2 and its progression, shock 1 resolution (because i forgot it before), nod, shake head, embarrassed.

fun facts/information about the choices made in the sprites under the cut~

Nahyuta keeps his arm around his back because he's mimicking Kristoph when he was standing as co-counsel (and also because that's just what he does in canon :P but here it's more of a mimic). He can take off a coat easily but mimic poses are harder to break.

his thinking animation has a fist to his mouth because i do that sometimes and this is my AU and he should have a unique pose. originally was considering keeping his arm behind his back and still might do that instead?? it works either way really

desk slam is mostly based on his canon slam, but without the beads. It's just a forearm and fist into the bench together, with his arm sort of parallel to the front of the bench instead of perpendicular (mostly to differentiate himself a bit from Asogi)

the determination pose changes the angle of the arm and adds his other hand to the bench. it's supposed to be able to slide into his breakdown (with a change in face, of course) with the vague plans i have for it now

also the main reason he gestures with his right is cause i thought it'd be fun since prosecutors use right arms/hands and defense attorneys use their left arms/hands. so what if Nahyuta just. didn't get with the program.

idk what i want his confident post to be but crossed arms is always an option. could be unique, could get in another mimic. (also if you can't read it the additional text is just saying the weird colors are a bleed-through from the colortest Apollos on the previous page)

why shock 1 and shock 2: you know how Apollo as of soj (and maybe dd) has two version of his shock animation where one has his mouth crack open like the og sprite. it's sorta like that. shock 2 is for more intense surprise which is why the papers float, Nahyuta pauses to see the floating pages (eyes dart from one side to the other), and then slaps them down to try and regain composure. also because green suggested it near the start of this whole AU and i love it. that was so much fun to draw.

i also have no idea what i actually want his embarrassed sprite to look like. awkward smile is probably gonna stick around though. it's funny.

important note, cosmic turnabout would be the same animations but the bits of hair in front are braided into the rest. he's not letting his emotions show as much. there might be an additional damage animation where he just flinches and grabs his prayer beads for this section.

when he's got Clay's jacket, it's sort of worn like Dhurke's because i like parallels and no one can stop me. maybe his arm is also actually broken but i haven't decided yet. what matters is that he refuses to use his right arm because he can feel a burning sensation from the Defiant Dragons tattoo due to his failure to his friend and he's just having a rough time of it all. also there's a non-zero chance his hair would be down more if he can't use his right arm 👀

#prosecutor apollo attorney nahyuta au #auta sahdmadhi #nahyuta sahdmadhi #his t-shirt is from opening week 2021 (which. might not be a thing at other colleges) and his mug says ''NO MUGS HAVE MY NAME'' #the lack of color coordination here is the real reason why kristoph wanted to make sure his court attire looked professional lol #everything is in lowercase cause it's like 1 AM and i'm making what most people call a Bad Decision #but as always i'm really grateful that green let me sort of take this AU and run with it because it's been so much fun #doodling and plot-developing (and while i might not ever get around to writing the ENTIRE thing. scenes might still crop up eventually)

[clockworklozenges]

So, a good five or so years back, I played in one of the best worst DnD games I have ever been in. The DM had bought the Libris Mortis book, which, if you were unaware, was a 3.5 splatbook adding in a lot of undead stuff, including some monsters and undead player races and stuff. Wanting to try it out, me and my gaming group decided to play things from it, our then DM deciding to run a completely homebrewed session. This proved to be a...

Terrible Idea™

(for the uninitiated, never homebrew something you do not fully understand unless it's just cosmetic. If you want to make all elves worship the god of garlic bread, Ultimo-Metatron-Omega, go ahead, but unless you know how the game works, don't make mechanical changes). So we all picked stuff from the books-one player played a skeleton Sorcerer who in life was a tribal shaman, but an attempt at healing went wrong, turning him undead as his life energy was replaced with negative energy, explaining why most of his spells were necromancy and suchlike.

Another player played Krug, an antipaladin in very spiky full plate. He was a zombie made by a necromancer of a paladin who was fighting him, but his allies killed his would-be master before he could assert control, and not wanting to just off him, his allies just...yeeted his body into a portal and hoped it'd re-kill him. It did not kill him hard enough. It did, however, explain his stats which...oof. He had already got debuffs to some stats due to being a zombie, and rolled abysmally. Fortunately for the player, he played mostly to socialise, so didn't much care.

I played... Count Nox Feratu, the Campire. As in, a vampire with a very camp German accent, which I did not break for the whole time I was playing him. To the point where "ach, nein, I haf bin heet! Heal me, meine freunde!" was par for the course. My overly camp vamp was a wizard, but due to level adjustment was a bit of a shoddy one. For backstory, he'd been ousted from his clan for ineptitude, and had sworn revenge. I was going for a swordmage build but never got there. All his spells were utility or just necromancy spells.

Our last player played...sigh...Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of Nerull, God of murder and undeath. He was one of the clerics from the book's murder Domain, meaning that he got buffs to damage. He was a vicious arse both in character and out of it, and was so dripping with edge compared to the paladin with the same IQ as a horse after its trip to the glue factory, the shaman who thought killing fixed people and the Campire that if you gave him a pat on the back you'd have finely diced your hand into a red mist. Not going too outlandish with his backstory of wanting to dominate the world as his undead thralls, Damien F***ing Bloodmoon had only taken spells which either charmed live people, dealt negative energy damage or messed with ability drain and suchlike, which he used with aplomb on townsfolk on our way to our objective. He was also, importantly, playing an elf of some sort, I forget which kind. Meaning that of the party, only one was alive.

So, just as an aside, for those of you that haven't played 3.5e DnD or have only played 5e, in Libris Mortis, undeath was gone over in detail, and had a litany of pros and cons. For one thing, undead had only the HP they had-folks like Damien F***ing Bloodmoon could be 'dying', and had some time to be stabilised before meeting the reckoning of Papa John and dying proper. Undead did not, it was just how much you had and if you ran out, poof, you're dust, bones and fertiliser again. You were also harmed by positive energy, so healing spells hurt you, as did potions of healing. However, undead were kind of hardy - poison immunity, some had resistance to non-magical melee damage, stuff that drained your ability scores and levels didn't work on them, some crits wouldn't do extra damage, and the best part- negative energy healed undead. Meaning all the spells our party had which damaged others like the living Damien Bloodmoon were curative ones for us. Keep this in mind.

So, we began our quest, learning of a necromancer a nearby town was plagued by. After using our skills (to whit: Damien Bloodmoon charming and drawing the life force out of random villagers and the only potion seller in the town whilst we went shopping. Krug got a snazzy hat, which we put on top of his helmet, and we chatted to townsfolk as I looked alive enough to pass as human and the shaman had a fake beard and toupee that people were too awkward to point out was fake so went along with it) we learn that the necromancer has a base of operations in the cemetery. "Oh ja, zo original, dahlink. Ve vill need to educate zis guy on vhat is chic and vhat is just shabby!"

So we head there and the nightmare begins. Damien Leads the charge, using all of his knowledge to deduce that the shambling horde moving towards us were stronger-than-your-average-bear undead, and he was right. These were powerful armoured zombie mages of some sort, casting ability draining spells, negative energy ray spells and even having auras of negative energy that dealt damage on a failed Fortitude save. Even their punch and quarterstaves did negative energy damage as well as the usual bludgeoning or unarmed. However...only one of us was really in danger and the DM's face fell when the squishy casters walked up and began shanking their super-special homebrew zombie wizards, being healed by the damage of their attacks as we cut them down.

Like I said, one of the benefits of undeath is that negative energy actually heals you. So the strikes of the magic staves and punches that hit us did some basic damage. Which was then immediately healed by the negative energy their weapon strikes and spells were doing.

However, you'll recall that Damien Bloodmoon was an elf. And not dead. Being a Cleric of a death god doesn't mean that you have the abilities of an undead. That meant that even with the DM being merciful, by the end of the first fight he was covered in blood, mud and withered away to just above half his original strength and constitution. More were patrolling, so we had to run. But that posed a problem.

Remember Krug had heavy armour? And recall his awful stats? He in fact, hadn't got enough strength to wear the armour he'd been given for backstory. He didn't, according to the DM, have enough to remove his own armour. And we attempted to, but also failed our checks according to the DM. And Damien Bloodmoon refused to help, simply blaming Krug and his player. Krug's player thought it was hilarious, and Krug only had enough Intelligence and Wisdom to say his own name, so saw no problem. And Krug, Nox Feratu and Shaman realised that there really...wasn't a problem.

For us, at least.

We slogged through three combats dragging Krug and wading through the mud with him. His speed was so slow that for every step he took, we took about ten. The DM was confused and infuriated that his encounters weren't working, but refused to change them. So we had fun role-playing. Or at least three of us did.

Damien Bloodmoon refused to roleplay, and none of his ranged spells could affect the zombie mages. When he went into melee, he came out wounded as all hell. He went down twice, and it was only the healing supplies of the shaman that saved him.

All the while, he was... Let's say not best pleased. Damien Bloodmoon was getting increasingly wounded, exasperated and longing for the sweet embrace of death as reprieve from the humiliation. His player was getting increasingly redder and rage-filled as time passed. Each fight ended with our characters stronger than ever and his a bloody pulp on the floor, with poor in-character knowledge (and terrible rolls) preventing him from realising why.

Eventually, we reached the final boss, pausing only to paint Krug's armour in contact poison just in case, and to find a stick to help the now-partially-crippled Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of death and murder, walk after being beaten up by angry zombie wizards for hours. And it had, indeed, been hours. Among us, only Damien had a bonus to strength, and we had two swords, a mace and a staff between the four of us. Meaning it was re-death by a thousand cuts for the enemy and a slog and a half for us.

We reach the necromancer and, having taken so long due to dragging the oblivious Krug with us, his big ritual is complete- he raises a fist-sized black onyx egg aloft, crackles with arcane power and causes the bones around him to coalesce into one massive creature - an undead, giant-sized rust monster, radiating an Aura of pure negative energy. Krug opened his arms wide, eager for the metal-eating monster cockroach to free him from his poison-painted metal prison. It ignores him as he's still very far away. Me and the others have our weapons and armour devoured.

Our DM was very much a stickler for note-taking. So because Damien Bloodmoon hadn't written 'clothes' on his sheet, his armour being eaten by the monster left him naked and afraid.

It became clear that the DM had done another f***y-wucky. See, the Aura of negative energy healed me and the Sorcerer by more than its other attacks did. So whilst Damien Bloodmoon was naked, soaked in mud and bleeding to death almost crushed to a pulp in the fetal position, rocking backwards and forwards as his player seethed with hatred, the Shaman and the Campire set about beating the thing to death with our bear hands and a stick.

The session ended once we killed the necromancer, or rather when Krug walked up to him, closed his arms and just crushed the noodle-armed bad guy to death with the weight of his ridiculous armour and poisoned him with its paintwork.

We never revisited the game afterwards. We were told later on that the DM wanted us to use the non-undead races. But at no point had he said as much, even when we asked him about our characters and the restrictions on them. We also learned a valuable lesson. DM for the players who are there, not the ones who you have an idealised mental image of. Tailor your game, otherwise you'll get a sitcom featuring a camp nosferatu, a shaman with no healing, a paladin who could barely move and a Cleric of murder who was ironically the only one at risk of actually dying.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #3.5 edition #Undead #zombie #vampire #adventure #libris mortis #Campire #paladin #wizard #Sorcerer #cleric #oh god why #Damien F***ing Bloodmoon #necromancy #necromancer #Skeleton #dnd shenanigans #dnd campaign

[faerielleart]

After 138, do you believe Levihan is canon?

hi anon! thank you for the question c:

to give you a really brief, straight to the point answer: yes.

i’m kinda over having to walk on eggshells because there are sensitive mfs in this fandom who get offended if you insinuate even for a second that levi and hanji love each other non-platonically just as i am kinda over having to hear the usual ramblings about how their friendship would supposedly get ruined, because somehow falling in love with your best friend is the worst thing in the world when it comes to these two characters in particular as people do not in any way keep the same energy for any other aot ship that is rooted in friendship, so yes, i will say that i absolutely consider levihan canon. in the romantic sense. romantic love is not inferior to platonic love and vice versa. i believe they are two best friends who happen to be in love with each other romantically, tried to confess in their own weird ways that were almost impossible to understand but that at the end of the day their confessions were understood by each other and that’s all that matters.

we got two characters who are canonically best friends, despite the sheer and frankly absurd number of people who are in straight denial at this very simple fact; we got a highly romantic-coded scene in 126, with hanji confessing of wanting to live with levi and if i have to be honest it’s much harder to assume such a sentence in this specific context could be taken as platonic rather than romantic because i certainly don’t go around waiting for my best friends to fall asleep before voicing my secret desires of running away and living with them and then blushing about it once i realized they were actually listening the whole time. the interpretation that hanji wanted to “live with themself” or blushed because “they were embarrassed at being caught in a moment of weakness because they were tired and voicing their tiredness” doesn’t make sense either, considering that in the uprising we got nearly the same dialogue with hanji telling levi they want to run away and levi giving them a pep talk, and there was no blushing involved. also, hanji would have no reason to blush around levi or feel embarrassment with him, they have way too much history together, are way too comfortable around each other and have seen each other at their worst too many times. we got an emotional farewell in 132 from levi, which gave us a weird reaction from hanji as if they had the sudden realization of their life in that precise moment and had to get away as quick as possible because of that realization. in the same chapter, there is a dialogue from levi which grammatically implies requited love from someone else who is not titans. you can’t really argue against grammar and yet there are some people who pull a muscle reaching to invalidate even grammar. plus, the fact that the kanji was modified in the published volume and exchanged for a kanji which is pronounced the same, has the same meaning but a much much deeper connotation of love. then, all the parallels with EM.

now, onto these parallels. i’ve seen people deny these parallels and really, it seems to me like we’re reading two different stories. let’s say, i’m an artist/writer and when i draw/write i try to communicate something, which is why the way i portray my subjects is never casual and always very calculated. let’s say, i want to create a scene between two lovers and i want to communicate their love in a way that’s clear to everyone, so i rely on romantic tropes like physicality and intimate eye contact to convey their feelings on the page. this is to say, from someone who is actually both an artist and a literature student, in a work of fiction it’s highly unlikely that such blatant parallels aren’t done on purpose. if it weren’t done on purpose, it would be mere, lazy recycling of panels, because let’s be honest here, the poses are the same, the context is the same, the words are the same.

and that’s really all i have to say on this topic. i’m obviously not in any way implying that you have to see LH as romantic, it is not my intention at all. we’re all allowed to have different interpretations of canon, god knows i do it all the time in all my fandoms. but i’d also like for people to start being more objective and less biased. because this bias, for some reason, is particularly strong when it comes to levi and hanji possibly loving each other romantically. people get weirdly defensive about this. but i stand by my point, i do believe LH is a romantic pair in canon and i gave my reasons for believing such a thing. i also stand by the fact that if any other ship, not necessarily involving L and H, i mean any other ship with any other character, had gotten the very same scenes in canon, there’d be a vast majority of people unanimously accepting it as canon, but since it’s LH there is a ✨strange reluctance✨ that i haven’t seen with any other pair in all my years of fandom.

we’re never getting a scene in which two awkward adults confess their undying love for each other kissing at sunset while shoujo bubbles, rose petals and sparkles dramatically surround them and a violin plays a romantic tune. it’s not in line with the manga nor the characters. however, we do have plenty of canon material and it’s good enough for me in its “ambiguity” which at the end of the day, isn’t ambiguity at all. an author puts ambiguity because they want to purposely create more than one interpretation, which is to say that it is, as a matter of fact, perfectly valid to see romantic tones, it’s not “reaching” or “being delusional” in any way because it was the intention of the author to begin with. If yams hadn’t wanted to create romantic tensions, he would have done so point blank. in creating an “ambiguity”, he is actively offering on a silver plate the implication that there is more than what the eye sees and reads at first in the panels and the speech bubbles, if you delve deeper into them. it’s a simple story-telling trick, i wouldn’t exactly call this “ambiguity” (which i’m even quite reluctant to define as such, as it’s quite “unambiguous” in its “ambiguity” that “disambiguates” itself. I’M DEEPLY SORRY FOR TWISTING YOUR BRAIN INTO A KNOT BUT I PROMISE THIS MAKES SENSE IN MY HEAD SJFJDMDJDJ) an example of “chekhov’s gun”, but if it’s there, it’s there for a reason.

again, thank you for your question 💜

#levihan

[thatgamefromthatad]

Seen these ads? (Obey Me! Review)

This is a visual novel/otome/gacha card RPG game with the same characters and themes as featured in the ads.

As stated in many of the ads this game centers around seven demon brother love interests (as well as some other potential love interests) although the game has a lot of plot elements other than just romance. Most of the ads that I’ve seen feature real art that appears in the game one way or another, and the ads tend to be focused more on the characters and theme in general rather than specific gameplay. Of the ads that do appear to show gameplay, most of the time it’s not really what you’ll see in the game but still follows fairly close to the actual game (for example, the “kiss, free, whip” ad on the top left doesn’t show real gameplay, but you can kiss or whip that character. But that specific art comes from a gacha card I believe and isn’t what you see when you do the kissing and whipping).

A few notes before I get into the full review:

I’m a lesbian, so I’m definitely not the target audience for this game, but I always try to be objective and open-minded when playing any game I’m not the target audience for (other examples I’ve reviewed in the past are Moments, which was also primarily targeted toward women who are attracted to men, Immortal Taoists, which involved a genre I had never heard of before and really had no interest in, Time Princess, which also wasn’t my favorite genre but was still a great game, and various Genius Inc. visual novels, which are targeted more toward high-school age boys as far as I can tell).

Speaking of lesbians, this game weirdly censors the word “lesbians” but not any other LGBTQ+ terms (that don’t include the word “sexual”) as far as I can tell; I decided it was enough of a one-off thing that it wouldn’t factor a huge amount in my overall review of the game, but I think it’s still something to take note of and not let off the hook since it definitely shows bias and can be offensive to players.

This game is rated 12+ on the Apple App Store, and I was pretty harsh on Crush Crush for being rated that way because I thought it crossed the line with some of its sexually suggestive content. I kept that in mind while playing this one, and personally I don’t think it crossed the line in the same way, at least not from what I’ve played so far; although it does have sexually suggestive content (most often when interacting with the character Asmodeus, who is literally known in the game as the “Avatar of Lust”), it’s much more occasional through tidbits of dialog as opposed to in Crush Crush where it involved a whole section of the game and was more interactive in nature. I would definitely still cringe at the thought of a 12-year-old reading some of this dialog, but I think it fits fairly within the App Store descriptors of “Infrequent/Mild Sexual Content and Nudity” and “Infrequent/Mild Mature/Suggestive Themes.”

Last note - there is a character in this game (Luke) who has the appearance and demeanor of a small child who you can interact with in a similar way to the other love interest characters, which concerned me for obvious reasons. I looked more into this, specifically reading into all of the different dialog options involving this character, and his responses never seem to be more than platonic, which is good. He still blushes when you give him gifts and stuff, which is kind of awkward, and it seems weird to throw a kid character into an otome game, but all considered I wouldn’t say the game is promoting anything inappropriate (unlike one of the Genius VNs that clearly involved relationships between an adult and minors).

Sorry I know that’s a lot of notes and disclaimers but I just wanted to that all out of the way as general concerns anyone might have trying this game or reading this review!

Without further ado, read my full review below:

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(I’m trying a new color-coding system to help highlight some of the main points of my review if you don’t want to read my entire essay word-for-word lol. Pink is a positive aspect of the game, red is a negative aspect/criticism and purple is not necessarily positive or negative but just something I wanted to highlight.)

😈 Is the game actually fun? Yes! Just in terms of production value, this game is top notch: the art and character designs are very appealing, the transitions between characters’ poses and facial expressions during VN scenes are actually animated (which looks much smoother and more natural than switching between still images), the voice acting is great (although the VN scenes aren’t fully voice acted, some parts like phone calls are and the characters say different phrases during scenes and battles as well)(Note: all the voice acting is Japanese), and the music is FANTASTIC and perfectly sets the vibe throughout the game.

The best parts of this game in my opinion are the different personalities of the characters and the overall plot; although some of the characters’ personalities can be a bit one-note at times (for example, one character’s entire personality that I’ve seen so far is that he likes to eat and is always hungry), the characters each have their own charm and play off each other well. I found myself getting invested in each of the characters’ desires and goals throughout the story, even the characters I didn’t particularly like. The story is also chock full of humor which is always fun, and the whole world and backstory built around this game (the “Devildom” setting and the idea of an exchange student program with angels, humans and demons) are also unique and impressive.

I really enjoyed the multiple modes of storytelling i.e. how the VN chapters are supplemented with text messages and phone calls from characters and an Instagram spoof with additional side stories to unlock. I know this isn’t a new thing in mobile games (even Gardenscapes and Homescapes do it to an extent lol) but add the compelling characters and overall production value on top and it’s a really enjoyable experience. Since the home screen of the game is set up like it’s your phone, with the different parts of the game represented as “apps,” the game kind of creates a feeling like you’re really living in this world with these characters where you can freely scroll through their Instagram feeds and check the messages you get from them on your own time. The shop where you can buy items and premium currency is called Akuzon (an Amazon spoof) and the place where all your gacha cards are is called “contacts,” which further adds to the immersive effect.

The “dating” part of the game is pretty cute although I haven’t gotten super far so I’m not sure of the full scope of the romantic interactions. From what I can tell, in addition to the dialog, blushy faces and bedroom eyes you get from characters when you give them gifts and touch different parts of their body (above the belt lol), when you raise your intimacy level with them you get additional phone calls and messages from them (I haven’t played a lot of otome games but I think that’s how a lot of them go). I wasn’t that invested in this part of the game but I think there’s some strategy that goes with using the right combination of gifts and touches to maximize intimacy boosts and get certain dialog, which adds a whole other aspect of gameplay in addition to the main game. I also noticed that occasionally your choices throughout the VN chapters will give you a small intimacy boost with a certain character; I kind of wish this was even more integrated since most of the time I felt like no matter what I chose it didn’t make any difference in my relationship with characters. Also, I don’t think there’s a way to “officially” date a specific character, it’s more about raising the intimacy level to earn more interactions but it doesn’t actually affect the main plot.

As far as the main mode of progressing through the game, which is winning “dance battles” with teams from your gacha collection, this part of the game has its own positive qualities such as the cute chibi forms of the characters that appear on screen and the fact that some of the special attacks show a little anime clip of the character (of course it’s less exciting when you see the same clip every battle but I still thought it was a nice touch). I was a little disappointed that there wasn’t a rhythm aspect as the “dance battle” name would imply, and your main interaction during the battle itself is basically just tapping hearts that pop up and tapping the characters when their attacks are ready, but you also have the option to skip that whole interactive sequence and just get a result based on your team’s stats, so there’s not much to complain about there (especially since the battles are sort of a side note compared to the storytelling aspect of the game despite being the main element of RPG-based gameplay that allows you to progress). If you are interested in the RPG aspects, there’s plenty of that to work with (building teams, balancing attributes, managing resources/rewards to level up cards and progress through skill trees of sorts, all that good stuff) although you’re limited to an extent by how difficult it is to get a lot of gacha draws without paying real money. It’s even harder to be able to focus on both strategy and character relationships while playing for free when the same scarce currency is used for both gacha draws and gifts.

👿 Is this a free game or a “free game”? Despite what I just said, I would still consider it a free game - you can gradually save up some of premium currency the game gives out through tasks in order to pay for more gacha draws and other items, and as far as I can tell you can access the main story and the other parts of the game without hitting a paywall. I only got to the fourth chapter so far though so don’t take this assessment as gospel. Like with a lot of other freemium games you might feel pressured to pay (especially when you run out of gifts to give your lover boys, which was the biggest downer for me, or if you’re obsessed with wanting to collect a lot of cards or get a specific card) but since you don’t actually need to pay to progress I still consider it free.

There’s also an energy system where you hit a wall and have to wait if you run out, but I never ran out because of the huge amount of energy the game dumps on you when you first start, and it seems like there are a bunch of other ways to get extra energy as well. There also aren’t pop-up or watch-to-earn ads in this game that I saw.

💀 Features

Main visual novel scenes and storyline (the visual novel scenes come between dance battle stages and there are a few short side routes that branch off but still one main route as far as I can tell, I don’t think your dialog choices really make a different except for in how the characters react to you immediately afterward. Still the main storyline in itself is fun to follow and it’s fun to get different reactions out of the characters based on what you say)

Dance battles (I’m not fully knowledgeable about the minutia of the RPG system at play here but in general the outcome of the battle will depend on the level, rank and attributes of your cards compared against the difficulty and attributes of the stage you’re playing. There also “memory cards” that can be assigned to support your team and expendable temporary boosters called “glow sticks” that boost your stats for one battle. During the battle itself you tap hearts that appear to earn extra points and you can tap your characters when their power is charged up to “attack” your opponent and use special skills. There are guides online that go deeper into stats and strategies and such if you’re interested. Different stages have different rewards for completion and you can quick complete levels you’ve already beaten to mine resources you need)

Gacha mechanic and cards (the gacha area of this game is called “Nightmare” and there are a few different pools along with event pools each with their own odds and sets of cards you can get. For the default pools you get free draws periodically and I believe you get one free draw for each event pool IIRC. You also get a bunch of vouchers for draws when you first start the game which got me handful of SSRs and a couple URs to build a couple of solid teams right off the bat. In addition to drawing directly from gacha pools you can get some cards by collecting card pieces as rewards from stages and events until you have enough to get the actual card. Each card has its own set of stats/attributes, can be leveled up and has a skill tree of sorts that can be progressed through with resources mined through beating stages, although it’s more of an attribute tree than a skill tree since most of the branches just add points onto one of your card’s attributes. Some cards, the rarer ones, have special skills that can be used in battle)

One-on-one characters interactions and intimacy i.e. the “dating” part (there are two ways this occurs: 1) you can set a specific character to your home screen that allows you to enter into an interaction with them, with a refresh period in between interactions 2) the main way, which is through “surprise guests” after dance battles. These surprise guests show up frequently but not always, and they’re always one of the three team members you used in battle, selected randomly. For each one-on-one interaction you can do three actions - either give a gift, touch the character or ignore the character. Sometimes the character will also offer you a high five which counts as an action if you oblige. Different characters have different favorite gifts and touching different parts of the body can get a different reaction depending on the character and your level of intimacy I believe. Your intimacy level with a character increases depending on the combination of actions you perform, and sometimes the character also gives you gifts back like more energy or resources. There are guides for this online as well)

Text messages and phone calls (text messages are the main mode of storytelling outside of the main VN scenes - you get messages from characters or multiple characters in group chats that you respond to with preset messages or stickers similar to how you make choices during the VN parts. Some of the text messages correspond with the main plot as you progress, ex. A character texts you to be in a certain place at a certain time and next VN scene is of you two meeting at that place. I think other text messages also come up when you reach certain intimacy levels with characters. There are certain group messages that you don’t respond to where you’re basically spying on a group chat among characters and just get to see what everyone’s saying. In addition to written messages and emoji stickers characters will also sometimes send pictures. Phone calls are fully voice-acted dialog you have with another character and they seem to pop up when you reach certain intimacy levels - I’ve only gotten ones so far with the two characters I have the highest intimacy with)

Instagram spoof/“Devilgram” (Devilgram is an in-game photo sharing social media app similar to Instagram and the photos on there correspond to gacha cards. When you acquire the gacha card that corresponds to a Devilgram post you unlock a side story, but you also need keys to unlock further scenes from that story, which can be gradually earned through completing tasks and such)

To Do tasks (completing tasks on your To Do is the main way to earn premium currency in the game along with other rewards and resources. There are daily tasks, overall tasks and tasks specific to each character. Examples of tasks are completing a certain stage or number of stages, beating a stage using a team that includes a certain character or reaching a certain intimacy level with a character. There are also beginner missions when you start the game that I think stay available until you complete all of them)

Events (there are sometimes side story events called “pop quizzes” and gacha events that are available for a limited time, or sometimes an event has both a corresponding pop quiz and gacha pool. The pop quizzes are separate chapters with their own dance battles and VN scenes, and the battles will come with reward points that you can spend on different prizes. Sometimes there are unique cards you can only get from an event. Other minor types of events include log-in bonus events and events where you can get special types of gifts for your love interests. There’s also a feature where you can “time-travel” back to old events at some cost but I haven’t explored this much)

Jobs (you can assign characters to passively complete jobs that earn you a small amount of non-premium currency over time and also increases your intimacy with the assigned characters by a small amount)

Customization (you can unlock avatars of different characters to use for your profile and set the name you want characters to refer to you by throughout the game. You can also change the outfit of your homescreen character, change the homescreen wallpaper and change the homescreen background music by making purchases in the Akuzon shop or acquiring certain gacha cards)

⚖️ Ad Honesty Rating: 4/5 (just from the ads I’ve seen, especially the ones that appear to be running currently, there don’t seem to be blatantly fake ads and the ads show real art and do well conveying the theme and characters in the game. However some of the ads are misleading about the actual mechanics of gameplay and may also lead you to believe there are actual romance routes with the characters which is not really the case)

⭐️ Overall Rating: 5/5 (I definitely didn’t want to give this game a great rating just because it’s super popular on Tumblr but I can definitely see why it’s so popular. There are lots of things to do, the characters are very lovable, it’s funny, the art is great, the music is great and the lore and overall vibe are compelling and unique. It’s a high-quality game with a good story and I’ll probably keep playing it)

▶️ Ad Example:

▶️ Gameplay Examples:

Dance Battles

Surprise Guest

If you got through this review bless your heart ❤️ Special thanks to @human-watching-ads-from-devildom which is where I was able to view some of the ads since I was having trouble finding them elsewhere online and viewing some of them on the Facebook ad library.

Follow me for more reviews of those free mobile games you’re always getting ads for! Thanks for reading! 🥳

#obey me #obey me shall we date #otome games #gacha games #visual novels #full review #anime games #rpg #dating simulation games #romance games #war and peace but it’s just a review of a mobile game #sorry if there are typos or mistakes

[spicycreativity]

Intertwined - Chapter 6

Chapter: 6/8

Additional Notes: Fic published in full on my AO3, WizardGlick. This is my favorite chapter 😁

Chapter Content Warnings: Blood, respiratory distress

The record player was still in the kitchen, surrounded by puzzle pieces. Patton switched it on and watched the vinyl spin in a daze. He missed Roman's boastful chatter, missed Logan's even keel. Maybe he should just give up. They clearly didn't want him around, and at a certain point, maybe it was selfish to keep badgering them.

God, he was a mess. Virgil had been too tactful to say anything during last night's Ghost Adventures marathon, but he had kicked his feet up in Patton's lap, and that was telling. It wasn't the reassuring full-body contact he longed for, but Virgil had never been big on touch. He couldn't be what Patton needed, and that was fair. It wasn't Virgil's job to take care of Patton. It was no one's job.

Janus' voice sounded unbidden in his head, reminding him in a distinctly annoyed tone, ' It's your job.'

So Patton picked himself up off the kitchen island and opened the fridge. He liked the work of cooking and cleaning. The domesticity was reassuring and sweet and safe. He cooked and cleaned because he loved. He loved Logan, he loved Roman, he loved Virgil. He wanted to see them safe and fed and contented, free to fulfill their functions because Patton fulfilled his.

As he cracked eggs into a bowl, he wondered if he loved Janus. He probably did. How could he help it?

Janus' smile was a rare thing, and that much sweeter for it. And he was so clever, so self-assured, so determined to help. This whole time, that was what was driving him. He wanted to help Thomas the only way he could, and now he was helping Patton. Because… Because he was just good. Even if he, like Virgil before him, kept that light hidden behind walls of sarcasm and bitterness. Janus was good. And Patton loved him.

He had forgotten to turn on the stove. Patton smiled at himself, because what else could he do, and turned on the stove. As he stood there, anxiously eyeing his half-finished omelette, his fingers found their way to the friendship bracelets around his right wrist. He had two there, Logan's and Roman's. They were both made of soft embroidery floss. Roman's had a little charm, a small silver 'R' that sometimes caught the light and made Patton smile when he noticed it.

He and Janus should have friendship bracelets. It could go on his left wrist next to Virgil's. Virgil wouldn't be happy about it, but… But Patton wanted it. He wanted Janus to feel accepted and loved. And there was no way to do that and spare Virgil's feelings. There was just no winning and Patton wanted, wanted, wanted more than he'd ever wanted anything.. Would it really be so bad to indulge this?

After breakfast, Patton relocated to the living room and asked the mindscape's halls for Janus. Janus did not appear, but the fog of the subconscious at the edges of the walls solidified into a hallway. Patton got to his feet and started to walk. He had never really ventured into the space that Roman referred to as 'the Dark Side,' but there was really nothing foreboding about it. The halls were still well-lit, the carpet still plush beneath his feet.

Eventually, the hall opened up to a cozy little alcove. Janus was huddled up against the wall, staring into the depths of a pure black coffee mug. He flinched when he noticed Patton, then smiled.

It was a slow, unfurling thing: first sheepish, then courteous, and finally, genuine. It lit a fire in Patton's chest, made him feel like he was glowing.

"Patton." Janus tipped his hat, peering out coquettishly from under its brim.

"Sorry," said Patton, "am I interrupting?"

"Oh, yes," said Janus, getting to his feet, "I need to have my coffee in utter silence of the caffeine doesn't take."

He sounded a little hoarse. Patton felt himself cross his arms and draw back to examine Janus, but couldn't stop it from happening. His scales looked the same as ever, more yellow than green under the light, but both eyes were glassy in a way that indicated lack of sleep. He looked tired, Patton decided, but not sick.

"Did I button my shirt wrong?" Janus asked, not actually looking down to check. He kept his eyes on Patton.

"Is there something on your mind?" Patton asked.

Janus countered this question with another question, which Patton supposed was fair: "Did you come down here just for that?"

"Well, actually…" Patton tugged at the tight, precise braid of Logan's friendship bracelet. Why was this so hard? "I thought we could-- If you wanted to--" His nerves were taking over and he was helpless to stop them, couldn't control the way his voice trembled. He started over. "So, no pressure, obviously, but I just thought it might be nice if we, you know, made friendship bracelets together." Patton held up his forearms so Janus could see. "If you want."

Tears were forming in Janus' human eye; his chest hitched with uneven breaths. Patton was already raising his arms to offer a hug when Janus turned away and started to cough. Oh.

The fit, though it sounded terrible, ended quickly. Janus straightened, drawing a yellow handkerchief back into his sleeve like a magician. "What," he said, pretending to look at his fingernails, "are the odds of you believing that was nothing?"

"It didn't sound like nothing," Patton said.

Janus sighed and leaned back against the wall, pressing his fingertips to his forehead. "Look, I didn't want to say anything, but I think that our dear benevolent prince might be a little angrier than he let on."

"You think Roman's doing this to you?" That didn't sound like him. He could be stubborn, sure, maybe even bull-headed, but it really wasn't like him to make someone sick. At least, not on purpose.

"It's not Remus," Janus said, crossing his arms. "There's nothing else wrong with me."

"It's just a cough?"

"Just a cough."

Patton tapped his fingers against his leg, thinking. "Roman's not really talking to me at the moment--"

"Typical," Janus muttered.

Not wanting to fight, Patton let this go. "But I'll see if I can… Well, I'll see what I can do."

Janus nodded, then seemed to remember something. His jaw worked for a second, his eyes darting everywhere except Patton's face. "Thank you."

Patton nodded, still inexplicably afraid. Now was his chance to leave, since Janus hadn't acknowledged his offer. If he sank out fast enough-- But what exactly was he running from? He wasn't Logic, but he couldn't deny that it made no sense to run from something he couldn't even identify. "So, um. Did you want to…?"

"Where?" Janus asked.

The trapdoor to the speakeasy opened beneath their feet. Patton's door appeared down the hall. He and Janus looked at each other in silence.

"The lighting might be a little better in my room," Patton said finally. He wasn't sure which of them had caused his door to appear. The subconscious was tricky like that sometimes.

"By all means," Janus said.

It was a little nerve-wracking to have Janus in his room. Patton wasn't quite sure why. Maybe the idea that Janus might not like it, and by extension, not like him. After all, Patton's room was as much an extension of himself and his function as his body was.

Janus stepped quietly over the threshold, holding himself still except for his eyes, which darted from object to object.

"Let me know if you start feeling all sentimental," Patton said, a thrill of nerves tingling his spine. "I don't have a lot of practice controlling my room." Janus probably didn't want to cry today, or ever. Not that he seemed like the type to get caught up in nostalgia. Like Logan, he was ruthless, cutting away what didn't serve him with the precision of a surgeon. Or so it seemed.

Janus nodded. Patton frowned. He'd been awfully quiet since Patron had extended the invitation. He almost seemed scared, which didn't make sense. They were safe in here. Too safe, if Patton let them be, sequestered in this hall of nostalgia's anesthetic haze.

"Are those California poppies?" Janus asked, striding forward to a dresser (the design of which had come from a memory of sleepovers at Thomas' grandmother's house).

"Where?" Patton asked, turning on his heel to look. It was difficult to move without tripping over the odd bin or crate of memorabilia. He found himself faced with a choice to either bend backwards to see around Janus or to stand right next to him. Far too close for propriety, they would be wedged right up against each other like the yearbooks on the far bookshelf.

Patton's heart started to race. Why? Why should he be nervous? He bent backwards, muscles aching in protest at the awkward pose, and peered around Janus' body. "I can't tell."

Janus turned, squinting at Patton's predicament, before looking down at the bins on the floor. He seemed to grasp the issue and extended a hand for Patton to take. "Come here."

Come here. Innocuous words, but the same ones he'd used to bring Patton into his arms that terrible night. Patton's heart fluttered.

He stepped over a stack of textbooks and entered Janus' space. Janus' capelet was soft and velvety against his bare arm; his sleeve a little rougher.

"Are they?" Janus asked.

The poppies were already wilting a little and Patton couldn't help but feel sad about that, even though they were imaginary. "Yes."

"How did you get them?"

"California," Patton said, the memory coming to him on a warm breeze that smelled of the outdoors. "Thomas sees them every time he gets to go."

Janus stifled a cough into the back of his hand, nodding all the while. "He wore them in his hair once."

Patton smiled, mind awash in golden light. Thomas and his friends were making a brief pit stop as they journeyed down I-5 and someone, it didn't even matter who, had spotted the blooms growing by the roadside. And they had all worn flowers in their hair for the rest of the day, bright faces made brighter by the addition of something so beautiful. "Do you like California poppies, Janus?"

"It's funny," Janus said, in a tone so devoid of sarcasm and teasing that Patton nearly did a double-take, "It never occurred to me to like them. But seeing them like this…"

He trailed off, coloring slightly, and Patton's breath caught in his throat. He understood perfectly, too perfectly, and it made him tremble.

It had never occurred to him to love Janus, until one day it did. But this-- Oh, no. Oh, no. Not like this. This couldn't be allowed. Janus glanced over at him and Patton felt his smile snap into place despite the newfound ache of wanting beneath his ribs.

"And here I thought you were going to keep me safe from your room," Janus teased.

"Oops!" Patton ran a hand through his hair. "Give me a second here; I can make a space." He thought for a moment before sitting them both down at a wooden picnic table. He imagined embroidery floss in every color, bins stacked with beads, scissors,  and two rolls of masking tape just to be safe.

"Summer camp," Janus said, smiling that crooked smile.

Despite his best efforts, Patton blushed. He tried not to hate himself for it because Janus wouldn't want that. But he also knew he was being far too selfish now, wanting Janus all for himself. There was a line and he had crossed it. "Do you remember what to do?"

Janus was already pawing through the embroidery thread. Loose strands clung to his gloves and Patton watched, intrigued, as Janus' mouth curled into that not-smile he sometimes wore when he was making fun. He withdrew his hands, trailing rainbow strings despite his efforts to shake them off, and glanced at Patton, startling a little when their eyes met.

Patton wasn't sure what to say. 'It's okay' felt hollow, less than a lie. Utterly meaningless. Janus' gloves meant something to him, something that went deeper than just aesthetics. Patton understood, in that moment, what it was all for: the gloves, the high collar, the hat, the sarcasm, the biting remarks, the exaggeration. All guarding Janus' heart. He must have been very afraid. Suddenly his irritation at Patton's inability to prioritize himself made perfect sense.

"I can help you," Patton said, not wanting Janus to feel pressured into taking off his gloves. "You can keep them on, just tell me what colors--"

"Don't be stupid," Janus snapped. "It's just clothing."

"Oh," said Patton. Heat flooded his face, impending tears burning in his eyes. Understanding didn't make it hurt less.

Janus didn't say anything, couldn't, because he was muffling those awful, barking coughs into his sleeve. They sounded so much worse than yesterday. Patton stared at a skein of auburn embroidery floss. He would have to find some way to get through to Roman.

"That was inappropriate," Janus said when he resurfaced. He was a little out of breath; his breath caused loose strings to flutter.

"I understand," Patton said.

"You do?"

Here, Patton hesitated. It seemed a little rude to read Janus, as Roman would say. He had obviously lashed out because he was scared of something.

Janus winced, pressed his lips together, shifted where he sat. "I'm sorry." He wouldn't look at Patton. "I shouldn't have said that."

"We can do this another time," Patton said, "if you're not ready. I just wanted…" It seemed stupid to say it out loud now, stupid and manipulative. "I wanted you to feel accepted."

Janus tugged his gloves off without fanfare, folded them neatly, and set them down on the table. His left hand was scaled, which Patton supposed he should have anticipated. "Don't look," Janus said. Patton frowned, trying to parse this, and Janus elaborated, "I want it to be a surprise."

"Oh!" Patton said, relief flooding his chest like morning sunlight through an eastward-facing window. "Okay." He stared at the embroidery thread, thinking. He had never been all that good at color theory, but… Maybe he could do a dark green for Janus's scales, and gold because they shimmered. To represent himself, he would of course use blue thread. And for the two of them, gray. But what shade of green…? Patton picked up a skein of army green floss, then kelly green, then moss green. "Janus?"

"Hm?"

"I need to look at you."

"Oh, Patton, I'm flattered, but need?"

"Can you just give me your hand for a second?" Patton asked, blushing.

"Which one?" Janus asked archly.

"The left one."

"...What for?"

Patton, still not looking at Janus, held up the three skeins of embroidery floss. "I need to color match."

Janus let out a huff of air through his nose. "I'm much prettier than that."

Then an idea struck. "Ooh, I know what to do! I still need your hand, though."

"Alright, alright." Janus leaned over, extending his hand to Patton. He flinched a little when Patton held it in his own, but did not pull away.

"Hmm," said Patton, examining the scales and the way they reflected back the light. It took a bit of thinking, but he managed to imagine a skein of thread in the same glossy green-gold color.

Then Janus stiffened and started to cough again, his hand curling around Patton's fingers until his nails dug painfully into Patton's skin. The fit was low and ragged and rough, left Janus teary eyed and gasping.

"You're sure this is Roman?" Patton asked, dimly aware that he was still holding Janus' hand.

"Forget it," Janus said, his voice like tattered silk. "You said you'd talk to him."

"I'll go right now if you want me to."

Janus shook his head. "Are you done with my hand? If not, I have a few to spare."

"Oh!" said Patton. "Yes. Sorry." He let go of Janus's hand, knuckles aching where Janus' nails had dug in. Janus' cough must have hurt far more than he was letting on.

Right. Compartmentalize. Friendship bracelets.

Patton picked his colors, eyeballed the thread length, cut them down, and taped the ends to the table. He decided on a simple striped pattern, flat, so it could slide easily under Janus's sleeve or the cuffs of his gloves.

"So you and Remus?" Patton said after he had fallen into a rhythm and didn't need to focus quite so hard.

"We're friends, yes."

"But you said--" Patton cut himself off, embarrassed. He certainly didn't want to be reminded of that awful night, and Janus probably didn't either.

"I know."

Patton was pulling too hard. He set his threads down and added another piece of tape. "I don't get it."

Janus sighed. "I'd rather not talk behind his back, but I will say this: He was on his worst behavior when he introduced himself."

Patton considered this but couldn't think of anything to say other than 'thank God.' That seemed rude, so he just kept his mouth shut. The silence that ensued felt equally as rude, and words slipped out of Patton's mouth before he could stop himself, "Do you love him?"

Janus didn't answer. Patton was tempted to look at him, to try to read his expression, but didn't want to risk ruining the surprise. Finally, Janus sighed and Patton heard the gentle rustle of his clothing as he shifted in his seat. "Defensive sarcastic quip."

Patton dropped his threads again so he could muffle a laugh behind his hands. "Sorry, was that too personal?"

"No, no, I love talking about myself. Maybe next you can ask me about my deepest fears."

"I didn't mean to be pushy," Patton said. It was hard not to be; he was so full of love love love he just wanted to give it away like Tupperwares full of snickerdoodles, like wildflower bouquets. He wanted Janus, wanted his whole fam-ILY to know and feel it as deeply as he felt it.

And Janus especially, Patton wanted to tell him with his lips, with his hands, with his tongue. His whole body radiating love.

But just because he wanted didn't mean he could have. He ached with a selfish desire to be held again, safe in Janus' arms. But even Patton was smart enough to understand that that moment was over and done with. They had shared it, and now it was another snapshot for the shoebox Patton kept in his closet. His own memories, separate from Thomas. A testament to his personhood.

They worked in silence after that, until Patton's wandering thoughts came to rest, inevitably, on the trouble at hand. "Hey, Janus?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think we should do now? Thomas can't keep going like this for much longer, I don't think. He hasn't done anything. And I-- I'm not saying-- I'm not trying to say it's, you know, immoral to rest, but this doesn't seem healthy." And also, it did chafe Patton a little, to see Thomas being so lazy, but he could keep that to himself.

"The sooner Logan and Roman get over themselves, the better," Janus said.

"I haven't checked on them yet today." Patton heaved a sigh and tried to focus on his pattern. He had the matte gray hooked around his finger at the moment, his own deliberate reminder to compromise.

"They haven't checked on you at all."

"So, what, then?" Patton asked, struggling not to look up. "I should get mad and ignore them right back?"

"That's what I would do," Janus said. "And you did ask. But…" A long-ish pause. "As we both know, I'm always right."

Oh. Patton closed his eyes, trying not to fold over and bury his forehead in the rough wood of the picnic table. He'd never wanted to see the worst in Janus, but he'd been bracing for it all the same. And every time he held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, it never happened.

That didn't mean they were never going to fight. Patton knew he was naive, but he wasn't that naive. But he had been bracing for something so much worse than this.

It was for Thomas. He had to remind himself. Janus had even said so, down in the parlor. It was all for Thomas. And Patton was sure, when it came time to make the next big decision, they would be at odds again.

But maybe… Maybe it didn't have to be so hostile. Couldn't they disagree without being enemies?

"You are always right, Janus," Janus said in Patton's voice. "And you're so handsome, and smart, too."

It was equal parts creepy and amusing, but Patton appreciated what Janus was trying to do, so he smiled. "I mean, you are smart. And h--" The word caught in his throat. They did all look very similar, though the subtle nature of the subconscious altered their appearances somewhat. It sharpened up Janus' features some, took away several inches of height, made his eyes dark and flashing. "And handsome," Patton finished weakly.

"You already said that," Janus said, voice dripping with faux-innocence.

"You're sweet, is what you are," Patton teased back.

"Finished," said Janus.

Patton blinked, thrown off, before he realized what Janus meant. "I'm almost done. Give me juuuust a second." He finished the bracelet with a practiced hand. "Can I look now?"

"Give me your hand. Then you can look."

Patton extended his left hand and finally looked over at Janus for the first time since they had started. The bright colors of the bracelet caught his eye immediately; it was an intricate weave of only two colors: bright yellow and true blue. Janus fingers were deft and gentle around Patton's wrist. He made no remarks about the purple and black bracelet already tied on.

"Oh, Janus, it's perfect!" Patton said. Hot tears welled up in his eyes. He let them fall, unashamed. It was nice to cry happy tears for once. "Your turn."

Janus pushed up his sleeve, tilting his head at Patton's bracelet. "What does it mean?"

"The green is for your scales," Patton explained, positioning the bracelet around Janus' right wrist. "The blue is for me. And the gray is.." He paused, suddenly embarrassed. "Well, it's a reminder."

One of the ends brushed against Janus' forearm and he twitched, nearly pulling out of Patton's grasp. "That tickled," he explained.

"You're ticklish?"

"No," Janus said, far too quickly for it to be the truth.

Patton smiled at him, though he knew they were a long way off from friendly touches. It struck him then just how badly he wanted that future. He wanted cuddle sessions with Janus on the couch, just the two of them. He wanted stolen kisses in the kitchen and tickle fights in bed. He wanted Janus, body and soul, consequences be damned. "Noted," Patton said. "Janus: totally not ticklish, even a little bit."

"Gospel truth," Janus said.

Patton finished tying on the bracelet and sat back. "Well…" He didn't want to leave his room, which was a sure sign it was time to go. "I'd better go check on my kiddos."

To his surprise, Janus didn't scowl or nag. He tugged his gloves back on, carefully sliding the bracelet inside the cuff. "What do you say to them?"

"Just that I'm here," Patton said. "And I love them.

"You know, Patton--" Janus got up and held the door open, breaking the spell of Patton's room somewhat-- "sometimes I think you're too good for the likes of us."

And then he was gone, sinking out before Patton could ask him what he meant by that.

Patton went first to Logan's room. Logan had maintained his silence after the meeting, not even answering to tell Patton to go away. The only hint Patton had that he was still in there was that Thomas hadn't gone completely off the rails.

"Hey, Logan." Patton knocked gently. "I'll go away soon, because I know you don't want me to bother you. I just wanted to say… Well, I'm not sure what you need right now, but I know this isn't it. So whenever you're ready to come out, I'll be here." It was so hard not to spill his guts to that plain white door. Almost like a confessional, only that Logan stubbornly refused to tell him what he had to do to earn forgiveness. "I'll go now. Come get me if you need anything, okay? I love you and I miss you." He waited a few seconds for any signs of movement within, but there was nothing.

Down the hall to Roman's room then.

The sight of Virgil seated on the floor with his back pressed up against Roman's cherrywood door made Patton pause, breaths stuttering in his chest.

He kept his distance, but Virgil had startled at the sound of his steps on the carpet.

Patton flashed him a thumbs up and cocked his head.

Virgil nodded.

Patton sank out. What else could he do? If Roman would rather talk to Virgil than to him, well… Patton couldn't blame him.

He sat down heavily at the kitchen island, staring down at the half-finished puzzle. Tears blurred his eyes and he took off his glasses as they started to fall. He was so, so sick of crying. He did it all the time. Every strong emotion moved him to tears.

He wanted to crawl back to Janus' room, relive that tender night. Just once, he wanted someone else to pick him up off the ground. He was thoroughly sick of being his own hero.

He had mostly gotten himself under control by the time Virgil popped up by the fridge. It was only his breathing that still troubled him, heavy and painful in his chest.

"Hey, Virge."

"Since when do you call me that?" Virgil asked, opening the fridge.

It was reflex more than anything that forced Patton to his feet. "I can make you something."

"You don't have to," Virgil mumbled, cheeks going scarlet under his foundation.

"I want to," Patton said. That much was still true, at least. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Uh, I was just gonna make a sandwich," Virgil said.

"BLT?"

"Sure."

Patton nodded, clenching his left hand into a fist by his side. Virgil was incredibly observant; he was bound to notice Janus' friendship bracelet. Patton wasn't sure whether to let him or to bring it up.

Virgil saved him from having to decide. "Where have you been all morning?" Patton wordlessly held up his arm, feeling for all the world like a guilty child. Sure enough, Virgil's eyes narrowed. But to Patton's surprise, no lecture followed. "Janus made that?"

"Mm-hm." Patton nodded. "I made him one, too."

"Is he wearing it?" Virgil asked, looking dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Patton said, a little emboldened now that he knew Virgil wasn't angry. "Tied it on myself."

"He let you do that? Janus?" Virgil ran both hands through his hair, looking at Patton like he'd just expressed a desire to go cliff diving while blindfolded.

"I mean, I didn't have to tie him down."

Virgil sighed through his nose and wandered to the kitchen island with a lost expression. "That's weird."

Patton opened up the fridge. "Are you okay?" he said to the condiments rack, not wanting to make Virgil uncomfortable with too much eye contact.

"Watch him," Virgil said. "Watch him like a hawk… A hawk with binoculars."

"Aww!" said Patton, picturing it. "Oh! How's Roman?"

"Conflicted," Virgil said. "I told him you've been hanging out with Janus."

Patton bit his tongue and pulled a head of lettuce out of the crisper drawer. It wasn't wrong to spend time with Janus. He loved Janus. Love was never wrong. "How'd he take it?"

"Nnnot that bad?" Virgil said. "I think it helps that Thomas hasn't gone full, y'know, Squip."

"You know I wouldn't let that happen," Patton said. He moved over to the counter and paused to take a few deep breaths. His chest hurt a little. Probably just from crying too much. But that reminded him of Janus and that worrisome, mysterious cough. "By the way, does Roman seem… in control?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, he accidentally made it super cold for a little bit."

"Oh," said Virgil, "yeah. He apologized for that. He's okay now."

Patton nodded, trying not to let his worry show on his face. But it crept into the corners of his mind and kept him silent as he made two BLTs. If Janus was sure it wasn't Remus and Virgil was sure it wasn't Roman… Who else could it be? Or what else?

No answers sprang into Patton's mind. He bit his lip and stabbed one fancy toothpick each through sandwiches. He slid one plate over to Virgil, mindful not to upset any stray puzzle pieces, then rounded the kitchen island to sit next to Virgil.

"You…" he started, and paused to catch his breath. "You're not mad, are you?"

"I mean, I don't love that you're hanging out with Janus. I wish you wouldn't. I wish he'd leave us all alone and go back to slinking around in the shadows like the snake he is." Virgil turned his head to look at the new friendship bracelet on Patton's arm. "But you're your own Side. It would be wrong for me to try to control you. I just really hope he doesn't hurt you, Patton."

"So you're not mad?"

"No, pop star, I'm not mad. Just worried about you."

"Thanks, kiddo."

--

It seemed that these days, the mindscape was just made up of one crisis after another. After spending a pleasant day with Virgil, albeit with his breaths dragging in and out of his body like the air was too thick to breathe, the next morning found Patton doubled over in a fit of coughing so intense it knocked his glasses off. He ducked right back into his room, kicking his glasses in before him, and spat out a mouthful of heart-shaped flowers onto the floor.

Hm. Uh-oh. He wasn't an expert on biology, but he was fairly sure that wasn't supposed to happen.

The blooms were pretty, though, bright magenta hearts with little white tails. Bleeding hearts, they were called.

Patton frowned. Hadn't Janus said… Yes. 'I want you to protect that bleeding heart of yours.' How ironic. Maybe. Patton could never seem to use 'irony,' right, something Logan was always quick to point out.

He coughed again, but no flowers came up this time. That was good, probably. Coughing was bad, coughing up blood was worse. Surely coughing up flowers had to be somewhere in the middle.

He stood up straight again and banished the flowers into nothingness. Was it coincidence that Janus had a cough? Was it contagious? He hadn't said anything about flowers, though.

Patton sank out, grabbing his glasses on the way. If he was coughing, then he was probably sick. He knew how to handle that.

Since Virgil rarely spent time in the living room, Patton could hole up there with tea and toast and Adventure Time on the TV. Just until he was better, and then it would be right back to trying to fix things. He wondered if Janus would be proud or whether he would just push for Patton to rest more. Maybe both.

Virgil made an appearance a few hours later, about the time that Patton felt his patience running thin. The cough wasn't getting better, but he had no full-body fatigue to make the cartoon marathon bearable. Sitting still for too long made him antsy.

"Roman invited me in," Virgil called from the kitchen, dashing any hopes Patton had for conversation. "I just wanted to let y-- What are you doing?"

"I think I'm getting sick," Patton explained, wincing as the words seemed to claw their way out of his torn-up throat.

"Are you okay?"

Patton nodded. Aside from the cough, he really did feel fine. Maybe this would pass quickly. "Tell Roman I said hi."

"Will do." Virgil gave one last, lingering look before he sank out.

This left Patton alone with the ache in his chest and the vast loneliness threatening to swallow him whole. He tried not to think too much about Janus, lest he inadvertently summon him again, but it was so hard now. He didn't ever want to be apart from Janus. It was such a pure and simple yearning that Patton couldn't even feel guilty for it (though he did feel an echo of guilt that he didn't feel guilty). But it was a desire born of love, and how could that be bad?

The only bad thing about it was that Janus didn't love him back. Of course he didn't. How could he? All he ever did was run around babysitting Patton through crying spells, desperately trying to get him to pull himself together. There was nothing remotely attractive about that. In fact, with Janus, it seemed that all Patton did was take, take, take. He was guilty of the exact behavior that had him so wrung-out and desperate in the first place. How embarrassing.

Patton coughed into the crook of his arm, catching flowers and leaves in his mouth and banishing them without looking. He'd been sick before, they all had, but never like this. He almost wished for fatigue or a headache, something to make resting a little more bearable. Right now, he just felt lazy.

A bottle of NyQuil appeared on the couch next to him, nestled up against an embroidered throw pillow. Patton looked at it. He could already hear Logan lecturing him about the dangers of misusing medication, but… Patton was sick. And he was imaginary. And Thomas probably knew better than to chug NyQuil at the first sign of illness.

It would be fine. Patton poured out a dose and drank it down with his nose plugged in the hopes of masking the alcohol-tinged artificial sweetness. He still shuddered at the syrupy sensation on his tongue. Then he sank out, changed into his pajamas, and buried himself under his covers to slip into a coma.

#sanders sides fanficion #sanders sides #moceit #spicywrites #spicywrites intertwined

[frankincenseisnotamonster]

The Challenger: Robert the Rabble-rouser

Challenger Stats:

Name/Classification: Robert (challenger 3)

Fight level: 12 years of guitar experience

Speed: 2 out of 5

Special Skill: Multi-instrumentalist

Astrological signs : Cancer Sun Scorpio Moon

Blood type: B negative

Charisma: 9 out 10

Constitution: the bobfather, All-Might from my Hero Academia, hannibal buress look alike, class clown, the comic relief, easily the loudest person in the room, mushy, would be made of jelly, goofy, home-made, 5th chakra vibes,  a hamburger with glasses. 

(Recommended listenings while you read this: Where I am queen by Jackie Venson)

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

DEETS:

With one week away here is some info on my third and final challenger, Robert the Rabble-rouser. When I think about him I just have to laugh! 

We strangely met in high school when he and another friend asked if I had soda and to their surprise I said yes. Years later we met again and stayed distant friends until about 2016, when we started our band Frankincense is not a Monster! A lot has happened since then and we’ve been through pretty much anything you can think of together. 

Not only is Robert my friend and bandmate he also taught me mostly all I know about guitar. So why would I want to challenge him! Well that is a good question isn’t it. 

Robert is the kind of person that I will find infernally annoying as we argue over the right sound for a song, but in that same moment will make me laugh hysterically when he brings up how deeply he loves hamburgers. He is simple and honest and simple :). Yet I must challenge him, to see which of us is really the best at playing guitar for the ladies. 

And now I’ll make a disclaimer: this is my version of Robert, the narrative thats been running through my mind, not necessarily the truth just the truth from my perspective. Its hard and admittedly impossible for me to see Robert in any objective way. I have trouble seeing someone so close to me very clearly at all, so I hope perhaps all this will make more sense when I’m looking back on these days of guitar battles and practices, of stubbornness and silliness. 

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Battle intentions/Analysis:

I have always been low-key or maybe high-key jealous of how at ease he makes people feel, and how he brings comedy to any social situation especially performances. There’s something so fun and forgivable about him even if he’s awkward or makes mistakes. Robert’s really able to draw people to him, especially with his music that he a very intuitive understanding of, which I also envy. 

My goals with this last guitar battle is to complete a series, put a bookend on this wild adventure I’ve been on. Its been a revealing social performance experiment particularly for some of the obstacles I carry with them. As I near the end I’m finding the joy is just playing together. 

Even with everything going on I’m thankful for my bandmate, for the consistency of these guitar battles in my life and my friends that support me in this pleasure work.  I’m glad that me and all my rivals, all people of color could be brought to something that even if its only fun for me, is not something we are brought to that is life threatening or soul diminishing, which is so often the case for folks of color and so many people in general. 

That we could be brought to this battle, just to make music just to do something not attached to our productivity or our labor as workers, but our creations for ourselves if nothing else. It reminds me of something Billy Porter from one of my favorite show, Pose, said: “we speak joy to darkness”. If I did that even for one person, even if that is for myself, then every step of this has been worth it. 

Robert strangely is one of my rivals, but also like my other rivals also taught me important things about my humanity and my flaws. There are a lot of unspoken things between us that I hope I can address in this battle. Let it all hang out. I do love an good honest fight. 

Now as I approach my battle with Robert I’m reminded in a gentle way how much the patriarchy steals joy from us all. Even the benevolent amongst us, men and women, trans and queer, poor and rich, we all suffer at the hands of systems that make us forget ourselves, make us put on corsets for our souls. I hope that each guitar battle will help me to rip all the seams. I hope that for Robert. I hope that for my rivals. I hope that for my friends, my family and every one. 

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Another thing that has been clear to me through all my battles is that I’m never really ready. My point isn’t to be “good” or to be a proper “artist” or for “recognition” although it can sometimes feel like that. My main goal is to improve through practices. 

On my tough days If I want to be better than all these boys and on my best days its just to be better than myself yesterday. 

My greatest fun has been calling them all out! But my greatest gift is that at the end there will just be me leaving it all behind. 

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Fun fact about guitar practice:

So here we are ONE WEEK away. Just started learning one of the songs I’ll be playing so... :)

#I'lldowhatIsaycuzthatsmyninjaway

[spookyspaghettisundae]

No Such Thing, Part 1

The church tower bell rang in the distance, sounding midnight’s arrival through the cobblestone-covered streets of Crimsonport. The glass window panes on the residence of Sir Arthur Thompson muffled each chime of the bell as it droned on.

The witching hour.

The knight sat with his long-term guest Pàdair at the kitchen table. Both of them stared intently at the lone object in the center of the table’s surface. The tiny flames on the candles ringing around this object flickered, causing the shadows they cast in the room to dance like ghosts.

In the center of the candles lay a beautiful ivory comb, carved into the shapes of a unicorn for the handle and the toothed section to appear like its tail. Silver lined the ridge of the stylized mythical creature’s back. This artful item refused to budge, no matter how focused the two men were as they stared at it. The ringing from the clock tower had stopped, though the sound of it continued to echo in their minds.

But they expected it to move by a ghostly, unseen hand. Any time now.

Arthur’s eyes began to dry out and he blinked. He buried his face in both hands and rubbed his eyes with a sigh.

“This is silly,” Arthur whinged. “I cannot believe you goaded me into this nonsense.”

Pàdair continued to stare at the comb. Without looking up from it, he grumbled into his reddish beard, “Do not look away, now. Or you miss it.”

A gust of wind whisked the light out from all four candles. The room grew colder and the sensation of gooseflesh haunted Arthur. Pàdair and Arthur’s gazes met, both infused with a mixture of concern, fear, and that sinking certainty that there could have been no gust of wind in Arthur’s abode—all doors and windows were firmly shut to keep the wintry air outside.

The comb moved. The subtle scuffing of it spinning on the coarse wooden tabletop drew both their attention. Dim street lights from outside allowed them to watch, fascinated by this unnatural spectacle. The ivory comb turned, ever so slowly. It spun with surprising speed and froze abruptly in a different position, as if pointing in a direction past the oven and pointing at the wall. The two men looked there, seeing only wall next to one of the gridded kitchen windows.

Arthur cleared his throat, “Is that—”

“Aye,” Pàdair growled.

“What does this mean? What does any of this mean?”

“Ghosts, my friend,” Pàdair said, nodding sagely. “Messages from beyond the grave.”

Arthur wanted to utter a glib response, but swallowed the remark. He sighed again. His guest’s sheer sincerity about everything, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable, had initially led him to take him by his word when he told him about this phenomenon the first time.

“I think—I think it is not here, but pointing to somewhere else. Elsewhere in the city, even elsewhere outside the city, mayhaps,” Pàdair said, his thick northern accent adding a strange gravity and credibility to his wild assumptions.

He opened his mouth again to say something else. But the comb flew off the table towards the wall, clanging as it struck the iron oven and clattered down on the cold floor. There, it rested, still as the dead once more.

“That—that was new,” Pàdair stuttered out.

Arthur shook his head once a shiver had run down his spine, not even caused by the flying comb itself but by Pàdair’s comment. He set his jaw, reminded himself of his station, and walked over to the comb. He had been raised to ignore superstitions as nonsense that only the common folk believed in. An academic upbringing grounded in science and an adulthood marked by service and duty to the crown had rendered him rather sober towards anything “unnatural.”

He had also always lived his life by dealing with every challenge set before him.

So he crouched down and picked up the ivory comb, holding it lightly between thumb and index finger.

It trembled. Gently. He let it guide him. He twisted his wrist until it stopped, pointing him in the direction of the wall. Standing up straight, he walked the comb to the window. Pàdair stood up from his chair and followed.

The two of them peered out the window. Banks of fog rolled through the cobblestone-covered streets, almost suffocating the light from the lampposts outside.

Arthur nodded, transfixed on the empty streets. “Perhaps in the morning after a good cup of tea to warm us for the—”

“Nah. The spirits are most active now, every child knows that. And you would not wanna anger them, eh?” Pàdair clapped him on the shoulder and chuckled.

Arthur’s chin crinkled and his voice trembled, “There is no such thing as ghosts. There must be some scientific explanation for this. Perhaps magnetism and the silver in the comb.”

He rattled through different possible rationalizations as they dressed up to leave his home and investigate. Pàdair humored him, but seemed to chuckle over most of Arthur’s attempts at explaining the phenomenon away, sometimes even emitting a short guffaw at the particularly strained ones like freak earthquakes or alchemickal reactions with the materials used in the house’s construction. All the while, the ivory comb sat on a dresser, motionless, patiently waiting for them. Arthur took it as they left.

They exited the streets, armed with a gaslight lantern in Arthur’s hand and a flintlock pistol holstered in his belt. Pàdair had strapped on a sheathed hunting knife.

Pàdair cackled after insisting that Arthur should carry the comb, as his fine gentlemanly hands were primed for such a delicate task. Arthur swallowed his annoyance towards the northman’s constant ribbing, soon growing more annoyed by the comb refusing to point the way.

Without any aim, they wandered for minutes through the streets, Pàdair following Arthur’s lead. Only few windows glowed with dim lights as most people already slumbered away on this bitter-cold night. Only one couple, a gentleman and lady walking arm and arm, passed them by while giving them quizzical looks; the district remaining rather deserted otherwise.

“It is not giving you any direction, is it,” Pàdair said in the monotone of a statement instead of a question.

Arthur’s nose crinkled and he sniffed, asking his companion, “Are you not cold wearing—well, that?” He waved the lantern at Pàdair’s kilt. Only part of him was trying to deflect—the knight was wrapped in a long coat, a thick scarf, wearing his tall service boots and a tricorne hat—he truly wondered now about Pàdair’s choice of attire at this time of the year.

“Nah,” Pàdair said, shooting a glance down to the little bit of his knees exposed between kilt and high red stockings. “Maybe you should give me that lil’ keepsake after all. Maybe it responds better to me because I choose to believe in—”

He reached out to snatch the comb from Arthur’s hand but the knight snapped his hand out of the way, clicking his tongue.

“I thought it required a fine gentlemanly touch,” Arthur interrupted him with a smirk.

Pàdair pushed past and grabbed it anyway. Arthur let him take it, hoping to see it respond as little to the northman as it did to him. Surely, this would help prove that the phenomenon had nothing unnatural about it. That it had just been a freak occurrence.

The northman held the comb out in front of him like a dowsing rod, eyes focused with fiery intent and conviction. After a few moments, he waved it around like a magicked wand and then shook it, and then finally uttered a string of profanities in a foreign tongue.

“Alright,” Pàdair said. “It is broken. You scared the spirit away.”

Arthur snatched it back out of Pàdair’s hand, and typical to their relationship, the northman let him take it.

“I know someone who can figure this out,” Arthur said. “And when I say, ‘figure this out,’ I mean finding an answer to this mystery—other than ghosts and other such drivel.”

“I am all ears.”

“Bobby Simmons, someone I went to college with,” Arthur said, nodding to himself as if he had found the answer to everything.

“Ah, some ponce with an education always made things better, like the war in the north.”

Arthur glared at Pàdair for that comment; for having poked around in old wounds that had not healed. For either of them, Arthur thought. He frowned and decided to shrug it off.

“Bobby is not what you would expect,” Arthur said with an arched brow. “Got into working as a detective, aiding private customers in investigations and sometimes even helping out the police. Solved a murder case only recently, I hear. But—”

“But he’s a ponce.”

“She—”

“Come again? A woman?”

Arthur nodded again, “Yes, Roberta 'Bobby’ Simmons. Faked her gender throughout all of her time at the college, posing as a lad like the rest of us.”

Pàdair cocked his head back in surprise.

“But listen. She is not only educated well, she is brilliant,” Arthur added with emphasis on the last word. “Also a bit—eccentric? You’ll see.”

“Wait. You mean we are going to visit her at this ungodly hour?”

Arthur’s lips curled into a lopsided grin, “As I said, she’s a bit odd.”

The knight had not exaggerated, as Pàdair would soon find out. After an hour’s walk through the city into the less savory harbor district, they entered the warmth of a dingy pub near Horthall Wharf. Thick smoke made it harder to breathe in there. The deeper they ventured into the locale, the more humid it got.

The cold fresh air from out in the streets made way to the smell of sweat and cheap booze. The two men had to push through thick clusters of people crowding the establishment. Although Arthur’s attire was posh enough to draw some attention, Pàdair in particular garnered quite a few confused looks and even a snide comment from one of the other patrons.

“Go back home, northman,” said a filthy-faced man with a wide grin, displaying that some of his teeth were missing.

Pàdair smiled back at him and flipped him the bird, provoking the drunk man to lurch forward at him with a raised fist. But the drunk man’s drinking buddies held him back as he complained, swearing at them and telling them to let him go to teach the northern swine a lesson, all the while he made futile attempts at breaking free from their collective grip. Everybody could tell at a glance that the northman—a whole head taller and with limbs as thick as tree trunks—would make short work of the small lout.

Arthur and Pàdair ignored the encounter and pushed past another group. They meandered through the flocks of folk and descended down a flight of narrow stairs into the cellar. Raucous laughter resounded everywhere, the clink of mugs striking together, the stench of tobacco and opium weighing even heavier in the air down here—this place yet livelier than Arthur had expected.

The slapping of fists hitting flesh, pained grunts and shouts, and a swarm of spectators cheering them on greeted the two men as they entered the lower level where a fighting pit was located. The most invested among them shouted about their bets and called the two boxers fist-fighting each other in the pit various odious names.

Arthur looked around until he spotted Bobby and then pointed her out to Pàdair. The northman followed his gesture and spotted her by the table—eliciting a doubletake as he blinked and studied her unusual appearance.

Bobby wore a dark brown suit, though it was of cheaper make than Arthur’s and crumpled and stained dark in a few spots, with a pocket watch hanging from a button. Her dirty-blonde hair was cropped short and mostly tucked underneath a round hat, and she wore a pair of simple spectacles on her nose. Her jacket haphazardly hung off the back of the chair she sat on and her sleeves were rolled up, displaying crude tattoos worthy of a sailor on notably muscular forearms.

Had Arthur himself not known already, her get-up today could have fooled him better than ever before. It had been years since they had last seen one another, after all, and Bobby seemed to have fully adopted the guise of one of the city’s typical gentleman—albeit with the air of a hooligan about her.

With fondness, he recalled the last time they had spoken, when she saw him off as he marched into the war in the north all those years ago. A dear friend.

Right now, she sat slumped over the table, her chin propped up on a fist as she lazily looked over the fence into the fighting pit, with black rings of fatigue lining her eyes. Someone had splayed out several decks of cards over the table, leaving several empty mugs behind, where she now sat all alone. She covered her mouth to hide a yawn.

Arthur and Pàdair approached her table and stood still, awaiting her to look up at them. Her eyes went wide once she recognized Arthur.

“Good god be damned,” she said, causing Arthur to frown over her using the merciful lord’s name in vain. “Look who survived the war.”

She gestured over to the empty chairs and knocked over a mug. It shattered when it hit the floor. Some people jeering at the fighters in the pit paused, looked at the shards still rocking on the spot, stared at Bobby, then returned their attention to the match below.

“Bobby, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Arthur said with a grin, taking a seat. Pàdair followed suit.

Without engaging at all, she pointed an outstretched index finger at Pàdair’s face, “Who’s the northman? Souvenir from the Old Frontier? Didn’t know the royal army allowed you to take those home with you.”

Pàdair gave her a crooked smile and leaned over to Arthur. “Oh, she has spunk,” he said loud enough so she could hear him.

Bobby’s brow furrowed in frustration and she wagged her finger at him while clicking her tongue, then shushed him, “Button it up, you skirt-wearing flapdoodle, I was talking to him.”

This prompted a hearty guffaw from Pàdair and a mutter, “Ah, I hate her already.”

She grabbed one of the mugs from the seat Arthur had taken while maintaining eye contact with Pàdair. She sniffed the contents and then took a greedy gulp from it.

Bobby peeled her stern, steely gaze off of Pàdair and met Arthur’s warm smiling face. She asked, “Take it you’re not here to catch up on the years gone by, yeah?”

“Well, we should actually do that that at some point, should we not? But no—you are absolutely right. It’s a case—”

“Not interested,” she said, taking another sip. Then another. “It’ll cost you a good deal o’ coppers,” she muttered after another gulp. She slammed the mug onto the table.

Arthur blinked and Pàdair guffawed again.

Arthur patted his pockets, looking for the comb, “Alright then, fine. It is a very strange case—”

She slumped back into her chair, eyes wandering over to the other tables nearby, searching them for mugs of ale she could swipe. Three men there got up and wandered to the side of the fighting pit to cheer with some drunken laughter.

Arthur asked Pàdair if he had the comb, which the northman confirmed, pulling it from his pouch and placing it on the table.

Bobby shot a passing glance at it and groaned, “I said coin, not fancy keepsakes you cheated off o’ some lady.”

Arthur chuckled and pushed it across the table, shoving cards and mugs aside to get it over to Bobby’s side. With a grin that he felt communicated his own disbelief, he said, “No, no. See, this is a strange case. This comb here is, well, haunted.”

She grabbed a mug from the table nearby and sat back down, took a sip, and then blinked as she stared at Arthur over the edge of the mug.

“Oh, you’re serious,” she said. Wrinkles creased her forehead to the point of a pattern, betraying her utter sense of disbelief. “Remember what we always used to say, Arty Sir knight-man? You’re a knight now, yeah?”

“There is no such a thing as ghosts,” he replied without answering the second question.

“Bloody right there isn’t.” She picked up the ivory comb and irreverently flipped it in her hands a few times, studying it. “Old world make, probably elephant tusk imported from the dark continent. Pagan carvings, common nickel lining. Worth a fair bit to collectors, I suppose,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

Pàdair and Arthur exchanged glances. Arthur nodded with a confident smile.

She flipped it another time and spoke again without looking up at them, “Humor me. Where’d you get this?”

“A parcel delivered to my estate in the upper city,” Arthur said.

“Addressed to a Johnn von Brandt,” Pàdair added.

Arthur’s head snapped around at Pàdair and he asked in a sharp tone, “What?”

“It was addressed to a Johnn von Brandt,” he repeated back at him.

“Look, I hesitate to call you a savage even on the worst of days, but opening up another person’s parcel is a crime in the kingdom,” Arthur hissed at him. “Do you not have any laws up north?”

Pàdair shrugged and retorted, “The delivery man insisted the address was your estate, so he gave it to me to hand it off into your care.”

“And you simply opened it without even asking me. You know, I have a reputation to uphold—”

“Von Brandt likely used to live at that address until only recently,” Bobby interrupted them. She had put the comb back down and sipped from her stolen mug, smiling in amusement over the two men bickering. When they turned their heads to give her their full attention, she continued, “The von Brandt family name is one of several that have been disgraced, with their property seized by the crown after being declared lawless bandits. Let me guess—you assumed ownership over that estate for a bargain in an auction after you returned from the war.”

Taken aback by her quick insight and being lectured on political subjects he held little interest in, Arthur cleared his throat and nodded, “Well, uhm, yes.”

“Alright, so, you received this package for a known criminal, and your—manservant? What in the devil’s name is this northerner to you?”

Pàdair chuckled, leaned in and said, “I have wondered the same.”

Arthur turned red in the face, “He was a captive from the war taken here for interrogations and prisoner exchange. And as you may know, the crown released many of the prisoners after the treaty with the north was signed. He had no place to stay—”

“And Arthur here was so kind to let me stay and learn the customs of the kingdom,” Pàdair finished with another sagely nod.

“Anyway,” Bobby steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. “What about that haunting?” She folded her hands and rested her chin against them as she leaned forward, a wry smile plastering her face as her tone and posture evidently mocked the two men for their ridiculous superstitions.

Pàdair nodded again, his face turning serious. “Listen, ghosts are no jape where I come from. There are plenty of spirits out there, benign and mischievous, good and evil. We don’t know what this is about, but—

"It’s not a ghost,” Arthur said, shaking his head and flashing a smile that lacked all confidence. He remembered what he had witnessed at midnight.

“The comb moves of its own volition, see,” Pàdair continued in all earnest. “It pointed in a certain direction—even flung itself against a wall as if the wyld hunt had swooped down to toss it.”

“It is lined with nickel, which is one of the ferromagnetic metals,” Bobby said with a tired look in her eyes. “Or perhaps a freak quake?”

Arthur nodded at Pàdair and said, “I told you—”

The comb began to float off of the surface of the table. A hand’s width up. It hovered there, dangling in the air as if held up by invisible strings. Then it jolted around and pointed in a direction, upwards and diagonal.

“That is new,” Pàdair said.

Bobby snatched the comb out of the air and stuffed it in her pocket.

With an exasperated pitch to his tone, Pàdair asked, “Wait, what are you doing? That is what I was talking about. I think the spirit is trying to tell us something.”

Bobby’s gaze scanned their environs for a few moments. Her mien had darkened. All of the confidence and the smirking mockery vanished. She leaned farther over the table towards the two men.

“Shut it, you daft cunt. I feel it wriggling in my pocket right now. And while I don’t know what I just witnessed, I know nobody else here should see a bleedin’ object floatin’ around in our midst. You know what happens if people think you’re dabbling in witchcraft?”

Arthur rubbed his temples.

“There no such a thing as gho—”

Bobby pointed at Arthur’s face, “Correct. But we’re gonna find out what this truly is, gents. This sort of phenomenon could be a scientific breakthrough waiting to happen. Also, I love me a good mystery.”

Her chair creaked as she jumped up and sprung into motion, leaving. The two men quickly followed. They ascended the stairs out of the cellar, pushing past other patrons, exiting the pub mere seconds before anybody noticed Bobby had stolen their drinks.

Out in the streets, the trio wandered into an alleyway where she produced the comb from her pocket and held it out in an open palm. All three of them stared at it intently, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing happened.

“Bloody—I could have sworn it was moving in my pocket just before,” Bobby grumbled.

The comb lifted off, hovering a few inches off the palm of her hand. It spun around and locked into position, pointing down the alleyway. She grabbed it again and nodded in the direction the comb had directed them to wander. The smirk returned to her face. “Come on. There is no such a thing as a ghost and I will prove it to you without a shadow of a doubt.”

Pàdair chuckled nervously, “I do not know too much about spirits or black magick, lass, but I do think I know that what we’re dealing with here cannot be explained with science.”

She shook her head and turned to lead the way, holding the comb out as it sometimes shifted, sometimes wriggled, pointing her down different paths.

A few steps ahead of the two men trailing behind her, she kept up a brisk pace through the city’s streets so they could not catch up.

So they could not read the growing concern behind her eyes.

(to be continued)

—Submitted by Wratts

#spoospasu #spookyspaghettisundae #horror #short story #writing #my writing #literature #spooky #fiction #submission #gaslight romance #gothic #victorian #mystery #ghost #possessed #haunting #haunted #magick #Crimsonport #Red Coast #Johnn von Brandt #Sir Arthur Thompson #Pàdair Bhodhsa #Bobby Simmons #detective #investigation

[elvencantation]

just went to see tros. major spoilers ahead

[[MORE]]

so i’m gonna try to go through this as in order as i can

- rey doing the avatar pose with the rocks orbiting her was super cool. as was her training with leia

- her getting distracted (and becoming somehow angry) by kyle ron staring at his grandads melted skull? not so much

- leia in general i think they handled pretty well. i even was okay with her death, though it did feel rushed. either way any glimpses of our beloved carrie warmed my heart

- i fuckin love bb8’s little sidekick. him being narratively incredibly important? felt forced

- lando? YES!!

- the weird rey doing force lightning? NO!!!

- i just have so many issues with this ‘dyad connection’

- stop trying to make more jedi powers. first the connection, then healing, then the lightning tree?? seriously?

- speaking of which, sith rey was way overdone. i could have understood her appearance in the first place, hearkening back to the dark cave luke went into on dagobah. but once again, it was played into the ground. and the teeth? seriously? (yes it was very attractive but that’s beside the point. evil versions are always hotter)

- kyle ron just kept pissing me off. but that’s a whole nother post entirely. i would’ve liked the helmet kintsugi for purely aesthetic reasons if it had any emotional impact at all. kintsugi is repairing a broken object and making it more beautiful for its having been put together again, and the love put into fixing it. none of that fit with the weird reforging of his helmet. he didn’t even do it himself palpatine’s little slaves did it. it looked cool but felt wrong

- hux being the traitor because he just ‘wants him to lose’? made absolutely no sense whatsoever and came completely out of left field. unless i’m just missing something. which i definitely could be

- rey getting completely distracted on the way to get the knife and letting her friends get captured? dumb. stupid narrative decision. it felt dishonest to the rest of her characterization up until now

- and it made for another weird connection scene with ofc i didn’t enjoy. vader’s helmet has great symbolic importance. it being left on that planet just to tell kyle ron that rey was on his ship? another stupid narrative decision!!

- also what the fuck was zorri and the whole spice runner being a secret thing? are we in dune? like let’s shoehorn in a backstory that has no emotional impact because there was no buildup or investment whatsoever. yes i understand they were trying to draw han solo parallels but it was just- once again- awkward and forced

-jannah just rubbed in our faces all the lost potential of finn leading a storm trooper rebellion from the inside. we were ROBBED

- if they had played with the c3po losing his memory storyline it could’ve had much more potential. but once again there was no emotional impact because it was badly written and awkwardly placed just to give us another ‘cute’ character. which yes. i fell for. i love babu. sidebar: i just looked up that characters name and they were voiced by moaning myrtle??

- the scenes on the destroyed death star. the fight looked beautiful, it was well shot and the set was amazing. i loved the giant waves, everything. but han? seriously? at least they didn’t try to make him a force ghost. that’s literally all i can be thankful for. leia reaching out to him could’ve had that very same narrative outcome of him throwing away the lightsaber. and it would’ve made so much more sense

- merry popping up everywhere without pippin was both sad and jarring for me personally

- and then we get to the final battle

-i’ve been drawing a lot of parallels between storylines in the movie and from the thrawn trilogy

- admit it, Exegol doesn’t sound half as cool as Mount Tantus

- cloning tanks, secret super powerful fleet, all of that was in thrawn but done much better

- i absolUTELY hated the view palpatine gave rey of the battle scene. it was done in the return of the jedi, it was done in the last jedi, it just felt overdone

- i’m not even going to talk about the reveal of rey’s identity. it’s just fucking stupid. her choosing to call herself a skywalker would have been just as impactful, if not more, if we’d kept her parentage a non plot point

- also don’t think that i didn’t notice the parallels to the alien at the festival asking her last name to the lady on tattooine. since when have last names ever been so stressed in star wars. it just felt awkward

- whats with the red storm troopers? yet another awkward detail added for #aesthetic with no reasoning behind it whatsoever?

- and onwards we go- to whatever the fuck happened when kyle joins rey in front of palpatine. this isn’t harry potter. he isn’t a dementor. it’s just- completely out of place. like wtf

- i am 100% convinced the weird chanting ‘audience’ was just rows upon rows of empty cloaks palpatine was animating because he’s a fucking drama queen. like if not, where did he get that many people? who are they? are they more force ghosts in inappropriate places?

- speaking of, i guess i could see what they were trying to do with the whole ‘i am all the sith/jedi’ thing, but it really didn’t make any sense, even with the ‘be with me’ thing rey was doing at the beggining of the movie. yet another new jedi power. ugh

- my brain personally has disassociated the re*lo kiss from the scene completely. it feels like something out of a different movie. there’s no lead up, it feels like two completely different characters than the ones we’ve been watching these past three movies

- we could’ve just had him die killing palpatine, or shielding her or giving her the chance to kill palpatine by sacrificing himself

- and no, i don’t count the part where she healed him any sort of lead up to the kiss. it felt just as awkward and forced as the rest of the directors/writers trying to redeem the relationship. no. emotional. impact. and the parallels they tried to draw between him and rey? also didn’t work

- the lightsaber trick did look really cool i enjoyed that a lot. i also surprisingly enjoyed kyle ron out of armor. he looked a lot more... real? in fact he looked so much like a different character i was even kinda emotionally invested in him in that scene. maybe i have a weak spot for ‘strong’ characters being vulnerable? or beat up angsty people? both? either way i actually enjoyed watching him onscreen those like five minutes. adam driver’s a good actor. ain’t his fault his character was written badly

- what’s with their bodies disappearing?? are we pulling a voldemort here? only yoda did that and he’s special. also leia’s body waiting to vanish until kyle died? i understand what they were getting at but it just doesn’t make sense

- that all being said, finn and poe’s screen time was lovely. they work so well together. that hug after the battle, thank you oscar isaac it was so gay. finn’s hair looked amazing, them being generals together felt so right, it had such potential

-the sandstormpilot hug was also amazing. poe kept grabbing rey’s hand and finn tearing up and- i’m gonna pretend they’re all together and everything is good with the world. they just make such an amazing team i love them so much

- most of the filmography and settings were gorgeous. the recreation of the podrace was eh, but rey wrecking the TIE fighter was better than that entire scene and pretty much made up for it in my mind. also since i’m in that scene, the scare of losing chewie was just plain cruel. it wasn’t a good plot twist, it didn’t work, it was just mean

- why did rey get a sentinel lightsaber?

#tros spoilers #anti r*ylo #sw spoilers #sw #tros liveblog #ish #blue watches #hope that amused yall #im starting to have a headache now #i literally started dissociating like an hour into the movie

[hackedmotionsensors]

lol just saw a post about how Hawkeye has no business being the booty representative of the comics fandom when nightwing exists.

So lemme break this down nerds. Here’s the history. And I know. Because I was there.

So first off. Nightwing and Hawkeye serve two very different purposes per their series. They’re not even remotely relatable.  I don’t think there really is a marvel equivalent of Nightwing. The closest would be Bucky if he hadn’t been dead for most of marvel canon until Brubaker revived him. 

Hawkeye is your typical hick goofball. He probably resembles Green Arrow most because of his use of Arrows, arrogant attitude, general dingusness, girlfriends who are way cooler. But Hawkeye also is probably a little similar to Guy Gardner. 

Hawkeye was N E V E R used for anyone’s gaze. Female or male. In Marvel comics you’ll hear just about everyone wax poetic on how beautiful Steve is. No one says that about Hawkeye including his romantic interests lol. He’s not ugly he’s just sort of.....a dude.

Nightwing even in canon is known for being very attractive. He’s a big beautiful romani boy that the artists know full well about his big beautiful ass. Like in canon he’s mentioned as being a hottie. That’s ESTABLISHED.

Now lets fast forward to...a handful of years ago. An artist by the name of Blue saw a cover of...I forget. I think a Blackwidow x Hawkeye titled comic. Where Natasha is jumping down and showing her fanny and in a really dumb awkward position. Basically your run of the mill, male artist male gaze pose. Hawkeye is jumping down with her shooting an arrow. Because he’s a man. Pew pew pew! No ass on this guy just straight up violence.

Now Blue went ahead and made a parody picture of this. Her thinking was that it seemed dumb that when Hawkeye who was the circus performer wasn’t the one doing the fun acrobatics while Natasha wasn’t the one doing the killing. That’s literally their MO right? Natasha is pew pew pew and Hawkeye is usually showing his ass. I mean he wore a skirt as a hero’s costume. Natasha never did that.

So she draws her parody. People enjoyed this. A few other artists decide Hey. This is what we should do. For every dumb girl pose where a female superhero has her vagina out, or her tits out we’ll take Hawkeye and draw him in that pose.

It VERY QUICKLY spiraled very far out of Blue’s hands and became its own beast. This was a statement made by artists. Buzzfeed (or i09 I forget who asked her but she was like “fff no”) asked her if she wanted to make a comment on it. She declined because it was completely different from what she was trying to say. That happens. And not to discredit the HI because it made a very good point but from a personal standpoint of actually talking to her she never intended it for it to be “ A THING”.

So. My point is that this has nothing to do with Nightwing’s big beautiful ass. The point wasn’t Hey lets look at Hawkeye’s ass. The point was lets replace these dumb poses for women because male comic artists are 99% of the time disgusting and replace it with a character WHO SIGNIFICANTLY HAS NEVER HAD THIS KIND OF ART MADE OF HIM. That was the point.

Nightwing on the other hand.....was always drawn in a very horny way. So it makes no sense to try and compare the two situations. 

Just revel in the fact that everyone is horny for Nightwing including gross male comic book artists while also critiquing the fact that female heroes are drawn as nothing but objects.

Like that was the point of the Hawkeye Initiative.

Also jesus christ its 2018 who’s still talking about this anymore lol

[bonemarroww]

Transmissions

Kylo Ren x OFC

Summary: "They must have thought him mad. He himself wasn’t sure how sane he was; how much of what he had seen back on Lambda was real and how much of it was a nightmare. One thing he was sure of, however, was that he had been the only one alive in the end."

A/N: I have just recently finished playing SOMA and I’m still incredibly amazed by its philosophy and story, which is why I decided to indulge myself in some pre-game SOMA!AU.

AU context: SOMA is a 2015 horror game, set in 2104, in which the Earth was devastated by the impact of a comet, wiping out the surface and all of humanity. The only survivors are scientists working in undersea space research facilities named Pathos-II (which is divided in several research centers: Lambda, Theta...). These facilities rely on an independent AI called WAU, which uses a black fluid called 'structure gel' to control machines.

Word Count: ~10.000

“There is an incredible amount of minerals and petroleum in your blood… I have trouble even discerning your blood type.” Dr Amrita Maraj noted as her medical robot analyzed the sample of his blood. “Have you been… consuming structure gel?”

The man on the examination table diverted his eyes when confronted with the disapproving stare of the medic. The syringe containing his blood was carefully put in a box, but not quickly enough so Kylo couldn’t see the black tint it had taken. Black like structure gel; of course she would have guessed.

His lack of answer didn’t seem to bother her, as she went on examining his body and noting the few scratches and wounds he had acquired in the pas few days; nothing drastically serious, though he would probably have to wear a splint for his sprained wrist. The few questions she asked were met with silence, as though the man had lost his ability to speak on top of losing his entire crew.

As soon as he had arrived on Theta, he had been brought to the medical bay to be examined. After the hell that had happened on Lambda –though they knew very little of it yet–, Theta’s Security Operative had been fretting over his arrival, making sure he wouldn’t pose any form of threat. In a way, Kylo understood them; he had seen his face on a mirror in the escape shuttle. His skin was way too pale to be healthy, though dark rings circled his eyes; and his diving suit –as well as his skin, though he did not know to what extent at the time– was covered in structure gel. They must have thought him mad. He himself wasn’t sure how sane he was; how much of what he had seen back on Lambda was real and how much of it was a nightmare. One thing he was sure of, however, was that he had been the only one alive in the end. What a reassurance. Kylo wasn’t even certain he had actually made it to Theta, though he increasingly doubted the possibility of him imagining all of this.

The presence of the pretty medic who had taken care of him back on Omicron seven years prior was a bit disturbing, but for all he knew, she could have been sent here in the past few years for whatever reason. If anything, her presence was reassuring in a way.

“I’m afraid we will have to put you in quarantine. We don’t have any data about structure gel consumption. I mean, not beyond a few sips. And seeing the quantity of it in your organism, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had injected some in your own bloodstream as well.”

A muttered curse passed her lips, as she printed a copy of the collected data to be added to his files.  Somehow, her pursed lips and the wary look she sent him made him anxious. It wasn’t his fault. She shouldn’t be looking at him this way. He couldn’t let her think he did it on purpose.

However, his lips felt heavy and so did his tongue, and when he tried to tell her, nothing but a ragged breath came out of his mouth. He felt weak and he felt dirty. The dried liquid on his skin was starting to itch, and his throat was burning. If only he could drink a bit of water…

“That is all the tests I can do right now and with the equipment at hand, but we’ll need to run a few scans of you later. I’ll call Strohmeier to lead you to the quarantine cell. He will… ask you a few questions about Lambda, I guess, so be prepared.”

The wounded man nodded, and weakly put back on the dirty sweater he had been wearing under the diving suit. Surely they would provide him with more decent clothing in the days to come, if only for sanitary issues. For now, this would have to do. Kylo wished he could apologize for the obvious distress his very presence brought to the medic. She was biting her lips almost to the point of drawing blood, eyeing him every few seconds as if he was about to jump at her. Like she hadn’t spent the last half hour making him turn around and undress, touching his limbs as if they were her own. Kylo wasn’t mad at her for the distrust she showed. It was only common sense.

The security operative from before arrived shortly, and exchanged a few brief words with the medic all the while surveying him. Strohmeier was a middle-aged man with a perpetual frown on his face. Kylo had heard about him on Lambda, from his friend Phasma, a young blonde dispatcher who had been transferred from Theta the year before. He was the kind of man to always worry about anything that might bring any kind of danger to the crew. Of course he would be approving the quarantine procedure.

“Dr. Ren, if you could follow me, I have a few questions for you.”

As he was about to get up and follow the man, his eyes still somewhat trailing on the doctor, he caught an uncertain look in her eyes.

“John, could we perhaps let the questions wait the time of a shower? I’m sure Dr. Ren will be incredibly more at ease with fresh clothes.” She intervened, with a tentative smile at Kylo.

Strohmeier sent her a disapproving look, but didn’t seem to object. The patient hoped his eyes expressed how grateful he was for her suggestion, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she put her hand on his shoulder, and whispered –in a voice that was too nervous to be really reassuring, but he could pretend– that they were going to the quarantine quarters, and that there he would have some time to rest before any questions would be asked. To this, he nodded. Even when obviously scared, her voice was gentle. He would follow her.

The quarantine quarters didn’t quite look like the prison he had had in mind. In fact, it looked exactly like his own room in Lambda, except from the door leading to a private bathroom, and the fact that the opening and closing of the main door was not under his control. He could get used to it.

 .

“I’ll be on my way.” The medic got up after Kylo emerged from the bathroom.

The clothes he had gathered before going to the shower were a bit too small and impersonal, but being clean and safe was an incredible feeling. By now, the man didn’t really care anymore if this was true or if it was a hallucination –as long as it wouldn’t stop. There was nothing like feeling alive again this way.

However, the presence of the scornful Strohmeier was unnerving him. He didn’t want to let her go; she was the gentle one, she would keep him safe.

“Please stay.” He croaked, his throat hurting a bit after not having talked for what felt like a very, very long day.

She exchanged a surprised and admittedly wary look with the security operative, but eventually sat back on the chair she had pulled while he was away. Kylo himself took a seat on what would be his bed for the next forty days.

After a minute of awkward silence, the older man talked.

“We need to know everything that has happened on Lambda these past few days.”

Lambda, of course. So much had transpired there, Kylo hardly knew where to begin. Yet, somehow, deep down, he could guess when it had started.

“I started working on Lambda in 2099, under the supervision of Chief Factor Snoke. Everything was going right until the comet wiped out the surface of Earth. I don’t know how or why, but the WAU… changed.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see the medic –Dr Maraj, she had called herself– nodding as if to herself. The WAU was functioning all over Pathos-II, so surely the other bases such as Theta had felt the difference too.

“The structure gel started expanding like crazy all around the base. There were leaks everywhere, and structure gel scabs on the walls. More and more rooms in the lower levels were becoming plain unhealthy to frequent. It’s around this time we found Chief Snoke’s mockingbird.”

The Lambda transfer almost smirked at the memory. It had been engineer Armitage Hux who had found it while checking the lower docks for any operational helper droid. He had then come to look for Kylo, looking like he had seen a ghost, to ask him to guard the machine while he went to fetch Snoke.

“A mockingbird?” repeated Strohmeier.

As Kylo was about to explain, Dr Maraj beat him to it.

“A machine modified by the WAU, in which it has implanted a brain scan of someone. The droid is convinced to be human, like, the original person from whom the scan was taken. Remember the whole Adam Golaski thing a few months ago?”

Strohmeier nodded and beckoned Kylo to continue.

“Well, Chief Snoke was pretty disturbed. We neutralized the droid, but Snoke wasn’t the same after. He’s always been taciturn, but after that it became worse. I think this is when he started ingesting structure gel, and severed all communication to other sites. We didn’t see him for a few weeks, and when he reappeared, he was half mad.”

Recalling it was enough for adrenaline to shoot through his blackened veins. At the sight of his growing anxiety, the medic stood up and knelt beside Kylo. She took his hand and talked to him lowly, telling him it was over and that he was safe.

“He insisted we ate structure gel and disabled our shuttle system and zeppelin, so we couldn’t get out.” The younger man went on. “At first, we refused, but when he threatened to kill one of our colleagues, we did as he asked. For a few weeks, everything almost went back to normal, though Snoke was changing. His cells were mutating. Then, people started disappearing. We would find them days later, either dead or connected to the WAU, some starting to change, missing limbs and having them replaced with machine parts.”

At this point, Dr Maraj had covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes closed. She had paled drastically since he had started telling the events. Kylo understood. He too had reacted in a similar manner when he had seen Snoke for the first time in weeks, following the mockingbird event. His distorted face, the bulbous growths on his skin –it had been too much for him at the time. Now, it seemed like he could see anything without so much as blinking.

“Dispatcher Phasma, engineer Hux and I managed to unlock the escape shuttle, and were trying to gather the survivors when everything really went to hell. Snoke was trying to get us, and Hux was starting to go mad himself. He locked himself in the control room with Snoke to try and trap him. He was afraid of going crazy and hurting us. When we saw him again, he was like a walking corpse.”

Kylo had never even liked the man, but seeing him like this, his eyes black, gel dripping from his mouth as he walked mindlessly through the halls, was another thing entirely. Maybe he could have saved him. If only they had gone away instead of trying to find more of the crew. They would have had a chance.

“I was knocked out at some point. When I woke up, I was covered in structure gel, and some had been injected in my bloodstream, but I was alive. I didn’t know if the others had managed to escape with the shuttle, so I headed there. I found Phasma’s corpse in the station, but the shuttle was still intact. This is how I got here.”

 .

“Hello, Dr Ren. How are you feeling today?”

The gentle voice of Dr Maraj shook Kylo from his thoughts. Just like usual, at 12 o’clock sharp, the medic would come to bring him food and check on him. It had been ten days since his rather catastrophic arrival at Theta. Everyday, the only presence he would exchange a few words with was the young woman. She had deemed his situation non contagious, and so his isolation had for only purpose to study the evolution of the structure gel within him.

After a few days, black scabs had started to appear on his skin in various places, and so Dr Maraj had concluded they had to attempt something to cure him, or else it would only get worse. Therefore, they had started pumping large samples of his soiled blood to be replace with sane one. To say Kylo would be fine was certainly an overstatement, but he did feel a bit better already. Healthy food and healthy blood was helping substantially to his physical therapy.

His mind, though, was another thing entirely. The isolation he was subjected to was already starting to take a toll on him. Every waking minute was either spent trying not to fall asleep, his unconscious mind being filled by nightmares, or waiting for someone to come in. The crew had left books and a few games in the room, but no books or games could compensate the absence of another living person next to him. If he were to be honest with himself, Kylo was a bit worried about losing his mind in the silence and emptiness of the quarantine quarters.

This is how his tentative friendship with Dr Amrita Maraj began.

“I’m quite fine, though I’d rather you stopped calling me Dr, doctor.”

The woman shrugged with a small smile and sat on the chair near his bed. Despite her initial nervousness around him, she came to install some proximity between them, always making sure to be close enough so that she could grab his hand or touch his cheek. Kylo would have never described himself as a person who enjoyed this kind of intimacy before, but now that he was alone and on the verge of insanity, he would give anything and everything so that she could stay a bit longer, let her hands run through his hair, or stroke his shoulder.

She was gentle, and she was alive; two rare things on this Earth these days.

“You’re right.” She chuckled. “We’re all doctors of some sort here anyway.”

As Kylo accepted the tray of food she placed on his knees and started eating, he watched her. Kylo Ren was a man of a few words. Most of the times, when they sat together, it would be her who did the talking –not that he had a lot of things to tell anyway. He was never one to have many friends, even back on Omicron when he had started his job, or even further back, on the surface. After years working in the Pathos-II complex, rarely seeing the light of the day with his own eyes, he could barely recall what the surface looked like. What it was like to walk in the street and to bump into someone; what it was like to drive a car with the window opened and to feel the wind.

Amrita had been on a holiday at the surface, just a few weeks before the Impact, a few months earlier this year. She had told him about it on a few occasions, as she was keeping him company. She had shown him pictures of her family, talking about them present tense; looking like she hadn’t fully registered that they were gone. Pathos-II was such a secluded place from the rest of the world, that having news from family and friends on the surface was very rare. Despite the Impact Event wiping out the entire surface, many struggled to accept the fact that their loved ones had disappeared and were not coming back.

It was not a problem Kylo had to face day to day; his father having been very much absent when he was a kid, and his mother working as Chief Factor at Omicron.

Talking about his mother, he did not doubt one second that she would come to Theta at some point to check on him, when the information of Lambda’s demise will have reached their communication center.

Shaking the thought from his head, Kylo focused on the woman he was already starting to call his friend; in some quiet place at the back of his mind. She looked a bit tired, and though she was as agreeable a company as ever, something seemed to be off with her.

“Are you alright, Amrita?” he asked in a low voice, his dark eyes looking straight at hers.

There was this distress in her eyes again; the same kind he had observed when he had first come in her labs for examination. Kylo sincerely hoped it had nothing to do with him, he wouldn’t have his only friend afraid of him in any way.

Her ‘deer caught in headlights’ expression soon gave way to sadness and resignation, and she sighed deeply before answering.

“A colleague of mine committed suicide yesterday.”

The news hit Kylo like a punch in the guts. A small, paranoid part of him immediately felt guilty. It must have been him. It had to be him. He had brought the madness all the way from Lambda; it was his fault. He should have died there, breaking shuttles and slashing diving suits to make sure no one would ever get out there. It was what you did to the sick ones; isolate them not to contaminate the others.

Just like they were trying to do with him.

“Why- why would they do that?” he asked, a lump in his throat.

At this moment, Amrita’s eyes lightened, as if frightened, and caught his face in her hands. Though she looked about to cry, there was a form of determination in her eyes, as well as a gentleness the quarantined man could hardly comprehend.

“Kylo, it has nothing to do with you or Lambda!” she assured him. “I promise.”

The man still lowered his gaze, but didn’t try to convince her otherwise. Seeing him being so unconvinced by her promise, the medic brought her hands back to her knees. For a few moments, none of them talked, until Kylo felt the gnawing urge to know more. To be told it wasn’t in any way a consequence of his coming to Theta.

“Why?” he repeated.

His friend took a deep breath before getting into an explanation. When she talked, her hands moved, tracing patterns in the air, dancing one with the other, as if trying to mime.

“Ever since the Impact Event, Dr Chun started working on a project named ARK. It basically consists in scanning our brains to get a copy of our mind into one big artificial world she has created. When we will all be on board the ARK, she will launch it into space with the Omega Space Gun at Phi. Alimented by the solar panels, it could last for thousands of years.” Amrita softly explained. “Eternity among the stars.”

Kylo scoffed at the idea. It was ridiculous. Sending data into space wasn’t going to save what was left of humanity. It wasn’t even like it could improve their lives or anything. Making people believe they were real, living into a virtual paradise –this was what the WAU had done to the poor souls at Lambda, who would live their last moments connected to the AI via structure gel, thinking they were back home on the surface.

“Sarang used to think there is a… continuity of our soul from our living life to the ARK. According to him, if we die during the scan, or shortly after, our conscience directly flies to the ARK, and lets the real us live within it… But if we don’t, if we still live after the scan, we will never know nothing but the hell that is our lives down here, all the while our copy is having a good time in the virtual world Dr Chun created.”

He could see the brilliance in her eyes; the sort of awe she felt regarding the project, all the while crying the loss of her friend. He shook his head. She was either incredibly naïve or not so bright after all.

“This is bullshit.”

He pretended not to see the offended look in her eyes, or the way she slightly stepped back when she saw his eyes darken with anger. How could she not understand?

“This is an utopia, not a solution. Scanning our brains is not going to save us from down here. We will keep on living in this shithole and we will die when the WAU will have found a way to spread its madness everywhere!”

His strong words made Amrita flinch and lower her gaze. After a few moments, the silence became unbearable between the two of them, and so the man apologized for raising his voice. Still, she wouldn’t look at him in the eyes, and a terrible feeling of having disappointed her flowed through him. Eventually, she shrugged.

“Have it your way. I think it’s rather poetic. The last remains of mankind forever roaming in space… But you don’t have to get scanned, it’s up to you if you want to be a part of it or not. As for me, I think if there is at least a small part of yourself you can allow to be happy, then… why not?”

Images flooded his mind; images of his colleagues’ bodies, connected to the WAU, barely breathing as they mumbled in their dreams, filled with artificial happiness. He couldn’t let her become this. It was like taking a dream and sucking all meaning out of it.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to do it.” He half commanded, half pleaded.

At this, Amrita frowned, and crossed her arms. Kylo knew she would be cross with him if he kept on with this tone, but he couldn’t help himself. He had just found some form of normalcy again, and the thought of losing it once more because of some doctor’s pet project was unbearable.

“Kylo, if this is your way of comforting me, it isn’t working. Whether I’m thinking on getting on the ARK or not is none of your business.”

Sighing, she got up and turned her back on him.

“I’ll come back in a few hours to check on your scabs.”

 .

A few weeks of blood purges and disinfecting his wounds did wonders to Kylo’s health. Even though he would always suffer a kind of trauma related to the structure gel and his paranoia regarding the WAU, he did feel incredibly better physically. The scabs had long since fallen off and the new skin underneath was colored in a flushed, perfectly healthy pink.

For the first time since his arrival at Theta, Kylo was feeling like he might get away with what his body had endured and start over, in a new base. Theta was the main quarters of Pathos-II, one of the biggest facilities and undoubtedly the most looked after. The WAU would undoubtedly strike there one day, but it seemed unlikely to be anytime soon, considering the place seemed clean of any structure gel leaks.

By mutual agreement, Kylo and Amrita had chosen to avoid talking about their differences of opinion considering the ARK, instead conversing about lighter subjects such as their field of work or their memories from the surface. They had discovered a mutual taste for science fiction, as ironic as it was considering their current situation. Old movies from the XXth century –though they were still fond of them– had gotten it completely wrong; but who would have known the future of technology and humanity wouldn’t be among the stars but underneath the oceans?

 “I miss the stars very much.” Amrita said once, as she was tracing light patterns on the skin of his back as she examined him. “I saw them for the first time when I went on a trip to Europe in 2090. Where I used to live, a century of heavy industrialization had stolen the stars from the sky. We could only see the smog. When I saw them for the first time, it appeared to me that it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.”

She had played with a strand of his hair that was hiding one of his scars, and it had felt like the most domestic scene he had ever experienced.

“It feels good to think that, even if the surface has been wiped out, the stars are still there, even though we can’t see them.” She had added, putting the strand of hair in place before telling him he could put his white quarantine shirt back on.

Kylo had never given much thought to the stars. Ha had grown up playing video games about space, liked Star Wars, and had done a project about planet colonization when he was in 10th grade, but like any child who had grown up with visible stars above his head, he had taken them from granted. When he had been out of boarding school, he had joined his mother by taking a job at Pathos-II, but had never really thought back to what he was losing on the surface –until he actually lost it.

“There is an observatory at Phi.” Kylo had answered while getting dressed.

This had brought a smile to her lips, and her eyes had been dreamy, if only for a second.

“I know. Catherine –Dr Chun– will go there to launch the ARK with the space gun. Maybe I could accompany her when the time comes, if only to take a look at the stars.”

The man had hummed in response.

Sometimes, when you live trapped at the bottom of the sea, at the end of your world, with limited food, limited space and limited hopes, you just have to learn to dream.

 .

As the day of his release was approaching, an uncharacteristic good mood –tinted with impatience, naturally– was taking Kylo. It was the 5th of August, and in less than a week, he would be free to roam the station, maybe even rehabilitated to some task to occupy his mind, and he would finally see other living people than Amrita Maraj. Not that he had ever been the social type, or that his medic friend was getting tiresome; but hours of being alone, in the white room, had worn both his patience and his sanity, making him feel like the proverbial caged lion.  

Of course, he wasn’t naïve enough to think he would get all of his responsibilities back; first, because Theta, no doubt, already had a chief engineer, and second because he knew people like Strohmeier would make sure everyone knew he couldn’t be trusted. Could he be trusted? Kylo would tend to think himself reliable; he did feel rather good about getting back to work, if only to get some normalcy back; but maybe it was just a subjective impression, like those mockingbirds believing they were actual humans.

“And this is how I almost –but fortunately didn’t– blow up Omicron.” He finished telling the story of his first big mistake on duty.

To his delight, Amrita laughed, the sound echoing slightly in the almost empty room.

“I can remember!” she chuckled. “I was asked to prepare a bed in the infirmary, I wasn’t sure if it were for a potential accident or for you after your mother found out what you had done.”

It was the man’s turn to smile and shake his head, knowing full well what his mother was capable of. Working under her supervision had been a way for him to reconnect with her after his childhood of not seeing her so often, and he was glad he had done so, but accepting the promotion to Lambda had definitely been the occasion to move on from being ‘chief Organa’s son’.

His friend’s smile took a more nostalgic tone.

“Your name was still Ben Solo at the time.” She noted quietly.

This ended their moment, as Kylo hung his head low and breathed. He knew this was going to come at some point. She had known him as Ben, after all. It must have come as a surprise to her when she had seen him being brought to her under the name of Dr Kylo Ren; that is, if she had recalled his face from before. He had let his hair grow, and gotten rid of this awful braid that was so fashionable for young men in the late 2090’s.

Eventually, we he felt the courage to, he raised his head again.

“Yeah, I… I legally changed my name at some point at Lambda. Chief Snoke was the first to suggest it when I told him about how much I hated wearing my father’s name. I thought about just, you know, taking my mother’s, but I figured it would be bothersome to have two ‘Dr Organa’s at Pathos-II.”

To his relief, Amrita nodded and smiled, taking his hand and squeezing it slightly, as if saying she would drop the subject if he were uncomfortable with it.

“Why Kylo Ren then?”

Her curiosity held some excitement in a way, like a child, and this is how Kylo found himself remembering the story of how he chose his name.

“Well, it there was all this enthusiasm about the ‘new year, new century’ thing, with old classics of futurist science fiction being back in cinemas, so I thought Kylo was pretty cool as a new name. As for Ren… At the time, I was a big fan of this old band from the 60’s, that was called…”

The medic snapped her fingers and her smiled widened.

“The Knights of Ren!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. “I literally grew up with them!”

Her excitement was contagious, bringing a smile on Kylo’s lips. Of course she would have known them. They shared the same kind of tastes in music and movies –well, except for her bloody incomprehensible love for XXth century Russian rock. No one is perfect. Though he was sure if he asked her, she could find a way to persuade him that it wasn’t so different from whatever band he liked. She had this talent for far-fetched thinking, which he could only acknowledge with reverence.

As he was about to answer, an Asian woman in a white blouse barged in, looking completely distressed.

“Amrita, it is horrible! It’s Finley, he… he killed himself after the scan. Strohmeier’s angry. He wants me to stop the scans.”

The medic shot up, standing to go and hold her colleague’s hand, to try and calm her. For his part, Kylo felt his blood run cold through his veins. It was the third suicide in a month. Sarang’s theory of the ‘continuity’ was starting to turn into an ugly mess. If nothing was done to appease the crew, there would be more deaths, he was certain of it. After running from Lambda, Kylo had really thought he could distance himself from the madness of their lives; but the people at Theta weren’t so different. Having been isolated for so long had made him somehow idealize their state of mind, thinking everything could –and hopefully would– be fine; but they were cut from the same cloth, still as incapable of coping with the idea of being trapped underneath the seas. Of course there would be depression.

“God, Catherine, it is terrible indeed. Maybe you could put the project on hold, just the time to reassure everyone…”

And with such a false hope as the ARK project; it was only natural for simple-minded, depressed crewmates to give up on their lives for the virtual utopia they put so much faith in.

“But I’m so close! It’s not my fault people keep killing themselves…”

This would need to stop, before all of them went insane.

 .

To Kylo’s great relief, news of his detention in quarantine –and, by extension, of the events on Lambda– did not reach his mother until he was freed from the quarantine quarters. Having her visit him there would have been awfully too close to the one time she had had to go and get him from the sobering cell of the police station near his boarding school, when he was a teen. To say she had been pissed at having to spend hours of her –very rare– vacation time looking for her delinquent of a son was an understatement. It had also triggered an enormous argument between his parents over face-time, which his father had –quite unsurprisingly– fled by turning off his phone.

It was around this time he had decided to commit more to his studies. The burning knowledge of having disappointed his mother had been an incredible weight on his shoulders. He didn’t want to end up like his father. He was worth better than this alcoholic of a car-racing loser.

The fact remains that welcoming his mother in proper clothes and without scabs all over his skin was rather pleasant. Though he wasn’t so close to her, the fact of not thinking he would live on to see her one more time had shaken him to the bone, when he had been crawling in structure gel to try and escape what was left of Lambda. He had welcomed her at the entrance of Theta, and even though she had been soaked, still in her diving suit since she had walked from the shuttle station, Kylo had welcomed her embrace with the same eagerness she had for hugging him. Only when her arms had been surrounding him, he had realized he was shaking; and that a few stray tears were coating his cheeks.

For the first time, he realized what he had almost lost. If he had not woken up from the blow that had him lose consciousness; he if had been too caught up in the artificial happy life the WAU had tried to lure his mind with; if he had been at the shuttle station at the same time as Phasma and they had both been attacked; if Snoke had turned him on his side like he had done with Hux…

Kylo wouldn’t have been here, embracing his mother, as she whispered in his ear how happy she was that he had made it.

Behind him, he could feel Amrita smile tenderly. She had insisted on accompanying him to the gate. Even though his quarantine time was over, Strohmeier had insisted on the medic keeping an eye on him. She didn’t mind, and neither did he; they spent time in her office in the labs, or out in the see-through observation corridor, where they could observe the various fish and occasional whale swim by. It was relaxing; staying quite close, but having the world widen from the small room he had been confined in for so long.

“Is she the one I should thank for saving my son’s life?” Dr Leia Organa inquired, looking past her son’s shoulder and noticing the white-clad medic.

As he let go of her, Kylo felt a surge of awkwardness creeping up his neck, at the idea of his mother and his friend meeting on such terms. Of course they knew each other –Amrita had spent three years in Omicron under Dr Organa’s direction; she just hadn’t met her as her friend’s mother yet.

“I think your son managed to save his life on his own, Dr, but I accept the thanks nonetheless.” She playfully answered. “He’s been very brave.” She added, this time looking straight into Kylo’s eyes.

This brought a smile to the older woman’s lips, though her eyes were still a bit teary. No mother should have to weep over her son’s disappearance. Thankfully, if one could say, no other member of the Lambda crew had any family left; not since the Impact. In this way, Kylo was one very lucky man indeed, as family had proven to become a rare thing these days. A few workers had found their peace in the love they came to hold for one colleague or the other; but none had the tenderness of a parent, except maybe this friend of Amrita’s on Omicron, who still had his sister working by his side.

When Leia embraced Amrita, all thoughts of hierarchy put aside the time of one mutual reassurance, Kylo figured there was still some scarce forms of beauty in this world.

 .

As the weeks passed by, new responsibilities arose. Nearly a month after his release from quarantine, Kylo was accorded a new place as a back up engineer, under the supervision of mechatronics engineer Richard Thabo. Richard was a rather pleasant man to work with, the kind that could occasionally fill the silence with idle chatter, without particularly expecting his new colleague to talk as much. Nevertheless, he knew how to be serious when needed, and worked well.

His presence radiated life, and so Kylo tended to stick with him when he didn’t know where he could find his medic friend. Richard had teased him about their friendship –of course he had–, but nothing unpleasant. Waiting for the world to end, sometimes you have to find ways to pass time.

Mechatronics wasn’t really Kylo’s best domain, but the administrative supervisor had decided he was less likely to mess up if he worked with a few droids rather than if he was entrusted with the maintenance and organization of the software, like he used to on Lambda. The man hadn’t protested; glad as he was that they gave him something to busy himself with.

“Another mockingbird has been reported in the lower decks.” Richard grumbled one morning as they met for briefing. “Strasky says it’s one of the helpers that we couldn’t find the other day.”

A few helper droids had disappeared a few days before –it wasn’t particularly unusual, the WAU having as a task to take care automatically of the droids’ maintenance. However, in the past months, according to Richard, there had been more often than ever disappearances of machines, which would then be found modified and connected to the WAU, a new consciousness giving them the ability to talk. Mockingbirds.

There was, in Kylo’s opinion, an obvious correlation to the number of people suddenly getting scanned by this Dr Chun for her ARK fantasy. Of course the WAU would create mockingbirds if you fed it with brain scans. However, no one seemed to want to listen to his warnings.

They were all so blinded by the ARK.

“It’s not sane to listen to them Mockingbirds.” His colleague ranted. “As soon as we approach it, I distract it, and you go for the cortex chip. One strong pull, and it’s deactivated.”

Kylo nodded. He had taken care of Snoke’s mockingbird, a lifetime and a day before.

The helper machine was some kind of patchwork between a calculating robot and a handler droid, its pathetic form slumped on the ground, its mechanic eyes focused on them. It would be extremely annoying to repair. The helper had been attached to the WAU by these kind of roots the engineer had seen so many times on Lambda, which were coming from a crack in the wall from which structure gel was freely leaking.

“Did Strasky report the leak as well?” Kylo inquired as he took a photo of it, to send to the chief technician.

Before his colleague could answer, a joyful voice came from the machine, and he felt his blood freeze in his veins.

“Kylo! I’m so glad you are here. I think I stuck my foot under a crate, I can’t move, can you help me?”

The man knew there was no use talking to them, answering them; they were beasts like any other, wild grass to weed. But how…?

“Amrita?”

Kylo caught the disapproving look of Richard, whose eyes were screaming to him to stick to the plan and don’t feed it with answers to its nonsensical delirium.

“Of course it’s me, silly! Can’t you see I’m right here?”

His heart heavy and angry, the man approached the robot, and unceremoniously stuck his arm into its mechanical entrails, ignoring the machine’s offended protests. He had to bite his lip hard, almost to the point of drawing blood, to ignore what he was doing to this pathetic copy of his friend. In the most abrupt manner he could muster, he ripped the cortex chip from the machine.

Its voice became deeper and deeper, until it eventually shut down.

The chip in his hand, Kylo felt the anger supplant the nausea of having to pull the plug on his friend; though he knew very well it wasn’t her, just a pale copy. She had allowed that to happen. That damn medic! How could she have been so stupid?

Without a care in the world about leaving Richard to deal with the helper alone, Kylo ran. He ran until he was out of the lower decks, holding the cortex chip so firmly he worried for an instant it might break.

Only when he was frantically opening the door to his friend’s labs did he stop his rush.

“Damn, Kylo! What has you so worked up?” Amrita teased, half amused and half worried at the sight of her friend almost kicking down the door.

As an answer, the man threw the chip on her desk. This is only then she noticed the fury in his look, his disheveled hair and the tensed way he stood there.

“When did you get scanned?”

This seemed to make her uncomfortable, as she looked away for a second to observe the cortex ship that had been sent her way.

“Excuse me?”

Obviously agitated, Kylo paced the floor in front of her, before taking a deep breath and crossing his arms; looking at her dead in the eye.

“Chief Snoke had had his brain scanned three years ago, because of an accident that gave him a concussion. This is how the WAU was able to make a mockingbird out of it. But you? You never had your brain scanned before. Or have you? When did you give in to Chun and her pathetic ARK?”

It was her turn to cross her arms, obviously not liking much the tone he was taking with her. Deep inside, Kylo knew he was being unfair. She had never promised she wouldn’t participate in the ARK, he had only hoped she, of all people, would have understood. Not only hoped, but guessed. What with all the recent suicides, it all seemed to prove his point. They had talked about it before. Then why did she betray…

Betray? Where was this coming from?

“I am big enough to make my own decisions, Kylo. And as much as I respect your opinion on the matter, I respect mine too. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Confused by his own train of thoughts, Kylo stood there for a few moments, mouth hanging open and his eyes flickering everywhere but at her, as he was trying to find what to say.

“Do you have any idea” he started, his voice low and breathless, “how I felt when I heard your voice, your manner of speaking, when this bloody machine started talking? How I felt when your voice was pleading me to let go of you, was screaming in pain as I was unplugging it? Do you have any idea?” it was his turn to plead.

Sensing his change in emotion, Amrita carefully walked towards him and embraced him slightly, putting her head against his shoulder. Her hands came to trace light patterns on his back, like she knew he enjoyed, and breathed deeply. His arms tentatively came to return her hug, pressing her against him with a bit more force than he would have done in any other circumstances.

“I’m sorry it distressed you, Kylo.” She said softly against him. “But you have to understand that it is my choice. It doesn’t mean I value your friendship any less.”

The man hummed in response, still a bit hurt, but feeling slightly better now that she had her arms around him, her heart beating against him. He wouldn’t admit it, but there was some relief in his heart as well, because she had found a way to end the debate without either of them cross with the other, and that he would have hated to have her cross with him.

Distancing herself from him slightly, she lifted a hand to press against his forehead, frowning slightly when she noticed how warm he was.

“Looks like you have some fever. You should rest for a while, you are still recovering, and I don’t think emotional distress is doing you any good.”

His arms did not let her go.

“Just a bit longer.” He whispered, eyes closed. “Please.”

 .

A few days after their fighting and making up, Kylo was called to Strohmeier’s office.

Maybe it was their first meeting that had left him a bit wary of the older man, but Kylo was a bit nervous as he walked towards his office. On his way there, he walked in front of Amrita’s lab, and thought for a second about saying hello, maybe just poking his head at the door like he often did when he walked this way for the various jobs Richard had him do. This never failed to make her laugh, as she sent him on his way; but this time, her door seemed close. Maybe she was off taking care of someone in their bunks; he had heard about one of the technicians being injured by a recalcitrant machine earlier this morning. Poor lad. This was hardly a good start of day.

When Kylo knocked on the security operative’s door, he was taken by a bad feeling in his guts, but he quickly dismissed it as his past history with the man.

The older man didn’t wait a second to tell him to come in. The walls were covered by wood boards, like some kind of parquet, and were decorated by various paintings and photos. A map of the Theta labs was pinned to the wall, next to a bookshelf decorated with a foliage plant and the framed faces of people Kylo would bet were his family.

The relaxed mood the place was giving off contrasted strongly to the tired and tight-lipped Strohmeier. Kylo had seen him on various occasions, always looking more or less stressed and sporting his eternal frown, but somehow, this time it, was different.

“Please, take a seat.” The older man gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

The engineer complied to his demand, sitting himself in a relative comfort. The grey eyes that were focused on him were making more uncomfortable by the second.

“What’s the problem?”

Only a problem could lead you to Strohmeier’s office. He was a bringer of bad news, though Kylo was conscious his work was crucial in their survival. It was only fortunate that these responsibilities fell on the shoulders of such a dedicated man.

Now, seeing him close his eyes, as if not knowing how to phrase whatever bad new he had to say, was definitely worse than being scrutinized by his serious gaze.

“The observation corridor collapsed.” Strohmeier finally spat it out.

Kylo frowned. The see-through observation corridor was the best place in all Theta to hang out. He loved this place. It was the best when he wanted quiet and peace of mind.

“Is the hatch holding?” he inquired.

It wouldn’t do good to have Theta flooded. Thankfully, the hatch leading to the observation corridor was the same kind of door as those of the airlocks, so it should be all right. Maybe they could reinforce it slightly, or condemn it altogether. Yes, they would surely have to do that.

Strohmeier shook his head, looking more defeated than Kylo had ever thought he could look. For a second, he thought about asking if he were feeling good, but the older man beat him to it.

“Dr. Maraj was there when it happened. I’m sorry.”

It took several minutes for Kylo to process what his elder had said. The words didn’t make sense. Not in this order. He had talked to Amrita the night before; they were supposed to meet later in the day. She wasn’t in this corridor. It didn’t make sense. She never went there without him anymore anyway. There must have been an error.

“We managed to recover her body, if you want to see her.”

The younger man closed his eyes, not even realizing he was shaking his head violently.

“No, no, no, no…”

A hand coming to run through his hair, he suddenly stood up and ran out of the office, Strohmeier hot on his heels. Kylo banged on the door leading to his friend’s lab. The automated door wouldn’t open, though he hammered the button to make it do so, all the while screaming at her to let him in. If any answer came, he didn’t hear it, a white noise in his ears making him deaf to anything but his racing thoughts.

She couldn’t be gone. It didn’t make sense.

The older man swiped a magnetic key over the button, unlocking the door.

“I didn’t want you to find her on your way to my office.” He explained in a low voice. “My condolences.”

On the examination table was a body covered by white linen. Kylo didn’t waste a second before ripping it off her. Her tan skin was unnaturally glossy and blue-tinted, her eyes closed. A few gashes were cut in her clothes and skin, though they had long since stopped bleeding; probably from when her body had been pulled out of the rubble of what was once the observation corridor. Her cheeks seemed hollow though her skin looked inflated, and her chest looked like it had been crushed.

“The pressure of the sea crushed her lungs, so she must have drowned in a couple of minutes. She didn’t suffer much.”

Kylo nodded, trying to stifle his sobs, to no avail, as he leaned above her and ran a hand through her hair, the same way she had done to him so many times before.

She really was gone.

 .

The following days, Kylo stayed locked inside his quarters. That way, he could pretend he was still in quarantine, and that none of the events after had happened. He hadn’t met Amrita, and hadn’t become her friend. He hadn’t spent every bit of his free time gravitating around her like she was the bloody sun. And, more importantly, he hadn’t lost her.

 A team in diving suits, which he had refused to accompany, had been outside of the base to dig a grave for her; a pretty grave just beside these of the ARK victims, with a pretty plate reading “Eternity Among The Stars”, and a pretty corpse buried under it. A few of them had offered their condolences, though he could see they deserved them too. Strohmeier may have been a hard man, but he had liked her like a niece.

A confusing, guilt-ridden part of Kylo was nagging at his mind, gnawing at his sanity. Telling him he was the reason she had perished. Telling him he was selfish, to monopolize everyone’s wishes though they were grieving as well; but somehow, in his twisted mind, he was the one suffering the most.

This is how, one night after drinking too much of this whiskey he had nicked from the reserve, he found himself playing with a certain cortex chip he had ripped from a certain droid a few weeks before. He hadn’t meant to keep it –actually, he had been set on destroying it after talking with Amrita about it, but, somehow, he had forgotten it on her desk, and had forgotten about it altogether until the day before. He had been asked to go through Amrita’s stuff in the labs to see if there was anything he would like to keep, and had found it locked in a drawer.

Now, sat in front of a rudimentary droid he had crafter out of a few helper robot pieces, he was fixing the mechanical eye of the thing, wondering if it was the good thing to do. Probably not. It wouldn’t be her. But maybe he could pretend? Just for an evening; just the time to make up his mind.

His fingers trembling slightly, he inserted the cortex chip in the droid.

Immediately it came to life, its screen lighting to display her official portrait, as a little red light started flickering above the camera.

“–me go!” it finished screaming, as if he had only unplugged it minutes ago.

When it noted the silence of the room and the only presence of a very drunk Kylo watching it with some kind of wonder and teary eyes, her voice –its voice– took a worried tone.

“Kylo! Are you alright?” it inquired.

The man scoffed, but shook his head at his own behavior. She had always been on the kind side, but it didn’t take much to vex her, and him scoffing was definitely one of those things. He wouldn’t take his chances on upsetting her now; not when he had just heard her voice again for the first time after days of anguish.

“I just need you to tell me something, Amrita.” His voice broke on her name.

This seemed to worry it further; as it agreed the very moment it heard his hoarse voice fail him. It spoke with the same tone she had always used when he was tired and sad, and for a moment, when he closed his eyes, it was close enough for him.

“If you ever died, Amrita, would you… Fuck, why am doing this to myself…” he cried silently in his palm, his shoulders shaking.

Her voice shushed him for a few minutes, and he almost felt her arms around him, though a part of him knew they were his own. His erratic breathing only calmed after hearing her soft voice telling him it was okay to let go, that she would be there when he would be ready.

Wiping his eyes with a shaking arm, he finally spoke again.

“If you ever died, Amrita, would you like for me to join you on the ARK?” he blurted out, his eyes desperately trying to find something human, something of hers on this pitiful carcass of a droid he had in front of him; but the only thing he saw was the cold, red light of the camera.

 .

The next day, despite his raging hangover, Kylo made his way for the labs. His heart hurt when he saw this new medic from Omicron, Dr Nadine Masters, walking in Amrita’s lab, moving things around and settling in. Kylo was half tempted to crash her efforts, to tell her it wasn’t her lab, to replace everything like it once was when his friend was there; but he was exhausted, and honestly didn’t have the heart to hate this new doctor for doing as she was told.

This is how he regretfully walked past the open door of her lab, accepting with a nod the smile Dr Masters directed at him. He ran into Strohmeier then, who greeted him with a hand on his shoulder and a ‘Good to see you out of your room, son’. Kylo nodded at him too; these days, it seemed like the most effort he could do.

When Catherine Chun opened her door to him, he nodded, too.

“Oh, it’s you.” She only said, before closing the door once he was in her lab.

She went back to sit in front of one of her computers, opening a file which made codes pop up on the screen. Kylo detailed the place. She did have one of the most spacious labs in all of Theta; but what caught his attention was not so much the computers, the files, or the numerous cortex chips stocked in shelves, but the neurograph seat in the center of the room. It was grey, hardly different from a pilot seat. The headrest had a slight wavy pattern, and the upper part of the seat, the one that would cover one’s head for the scan, was currently turned up.

“How are you coping?” Dr Chun asked him, her voice a bit shy, as if it was a tough subject to broach for her too.

The silence of the man was all the answer he could giver her. Instead of reciprocating her inquiry, he spoke in a slow, deliberate tone.

“I want you to scan my brain and put me on the ARK.”

This seemed to surprise the intelligence engineer. She turned in her seat, frowning. Kylo’s opinions on the project were hardly a mystery; that he came this day to ask to be a part of it was suspicious at best.

She considered him warily for a moment, before shrugging and turning away.

“You’re too late. Strohmeier put the project to an end ever since Konrad killed himself, two days ago.” She bitterly answered.

The engineer shook his head, disbelieving. Now that he had come so far, there was no way he went back to his bunk without having had his brain scanned. He couldn’t… He couldn’t do that to her. She must be waiting for him, somewhere in Dr Chun’s files. She had always hoped he would come around and be shipped with her on the ARK; she just hadn’t dared to tell him because she knew it would’ve made him angry.

“Please. I have to do it.” He quietly begged, his pride a hard thing to swallow.

Dr Chun sighed and gave him a look; a look he wouldn’t have accepted were things different, but things were what they were and this Nadine Masters was settling in his friend’s office right as they were talking.

“Is it about Amrita? Joining her?”

The look in his eyes when she said her name was a sufficient answer.

“Yes.” The word escaped his lips as if trying to fly away.

Kylo knew admitting it meant trouble, but at the same time, he knew lying wasn’t an option. For all she was reserved and shy, she was far from being dumb. Her clever eyes were scanning his, but he wouldn’t look away. He knew his reddened eyes and dark circles under his eyes were giving away everything there was to tell, and so he stayed silent.

After a few minutes of gauging his intentions, Dr Chun stood up and walked towards him, only stopping a few inches from him, her index poking his chest in a mock-threatening manner; though her eyes were dead serious. But, then again, so were his.

“You better not kill yourself afterwards. In fact, if you do, I will delete your file and nothing will remain of you but your corpse decaying in the sand in front of the station. Understood?”

As if it was what he knew how to do best, Kylo nodded solemnly.

If only a small part of him could find a small part of her again; an impostor on his behalf to be reunited with an impostor on hers; if there were a chance of these two usurpers meeting, and a chance of them being happy, ghosts of what the living used to be…

If only there were these chances, then he would live on in the despair of humanity’s last age, keeping himself alive by thinking that, somewhere among the stars, two impostors in their names were happy together.

 .

“So, you did it, finally? Your brain scan?”

Kylo nodded as he downed another glass of whiskey. His last, he had decided. This was a page he was turning. In the silence of his room, he thought about the screens Dr Chun had showed to him. She had told him his copy would be happy. He would see the surface back. Forests, and lakes, and cities. Kylo had asked her if there would be stars, at night, and Chun had assured him there were.

He wondered if Amrita was watching them right now.

“I did.”

He took a deep breath before screwing the cork back onto the whiskey bottle. He would take it back to the reserve the next day.

“I’m glad you came around. You’re a stubborn one, Kylo Ren, but I knew you would do it eventually.” She teased. “You wouldn’t leave me alone.”

This made him chuckle, his eyes closed as he laid down on his bed. His thoughts focused on the voice of the woman, just next to him. If only for this night, he felt alive. She was so close, almost as real as the feel of the sheets on his skin.

“I couldn’t, now, could I?” he mumbled.

She hummed in response, the same melody she had always hummed when they were together, hanging out in his room or hers; in these moments when she would play with his hair, and sometimes kiss his forehead.

“Amrita?”

She listened.

“Can you tell me again about the first time you saw the stars?”

Her gentle tone lulled him to slumber; the quiet, dark room making her voice echo slightly in the most beautiful way, as the warmth of the sheets against his skin caressed him like the stroke of a lover.

As he fell into the land of dreams and anguish, a red flickering light was tenderly watching over him.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x oc #soma au #alternate universe

[opulopful]

I’m posting my Paranatural fanfic here because Reddit won’t allow comments over 10,000 characters for some reason. Warning: I went full fanfic mode on this thing; OC protagonist and everything. It’s also less joke-heavy than usual. Also I have done exactly zero editing. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Suzy’s grand scheme

The third grudge was being uncooperative. Not that the other two had gone particularly smoothly either, but there’s a certain point you reach after a day of running back and forth through the woods, up and down hills, and through Mayview’s small-town streets that you begin to take every scraping stick and uneven curb as a personal offense. Marcella had passed that point an hour ago. It’s not easy to track a spirit, even a rampaging one like the insectoid monstrosities of today. Apparently somebody had disturbed a nest and although most of the swarm had been contained, a few had become grudges and escaped. That’s when they’d called Marcella. “Lazy Consortium… smidges!” She hissed between her teeth as she hurdled another log in pursuit. Marcella tended to make up new insults whenever she was feeling particularly upset. “‘Oops, messed up a basic containment procedure, who should we send to do cleanup? Oh, I know, let’s send Marcella. She loves cleanup runs. I bet she doesn’t even need any help; she’s just so good at them!’” She caught a glimpse of a shiny insect leg through the leaves ahead and tried to put on a small burst of speed. It didn’t work. Her foot caught a tree root and she only just stopped herself from falling. She stopped, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. Something was buzzing in her ears and it was getting louder. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from outside her head. A bluish green streak flew towards her, cleanly clipping several leaves from the branches above as it passed. The giant bug spirit had turned around and come back the way it came. “It’s taunting me.” Marcella panted. It was coming directly towards her at quite an alarming rate. “Maybe not taunting exactly…” The bug spirit screamed through the air toward her trailing fresh-cut leafy debris. Marcella was forced to dive to the side to avoid its assault. The grudge traced a shallow curve as it zipped through the trees, looping back around for another pass at Marcella. The shrill buzz of wings grew louder as it approached, yet since it was a spirit, the birds gave it no notice. Sounds produced by spirits are very strange to those used to sounds in the corporeal world. Since spirit sounds don’t interact with the physical world, they often don’t echo off of surfaces or reverberate through objects. A ghost duck’s quack has no echo. However, there is still a ghost Doppler effect for some reason and this is what Marcella was hearing as the bloatfly-lookin’ grudge hurtled toward her although it is unlikely this technical audio-spectral phenomenon was on her mind at the time. Instead, she was probably thinking something along the lines of: “If it hits me at that speed, this dumb bug is going to cut me in half.” The dumb bug was going all out, it had extended sharp-looking spectral energy protrusions to either side of its body to maximize its slicing efficiency. Leaves and branches alike were falling to the ground as it traced a long line through the trees. It dropped altitude as it made a- “Bee line haha get it?” Marcella grimaced at her own joke. -a bee line towards her with clear lethal intent. “No dodging to the side of the bugger this time.” She thought. “Bring it on, bug! I’m not afraid! Unlike some people, I can face my doom with decency.” It complied with remarkable enthusiasm. The persistent human was dead in its sights. No way to dodge now. She’d smushed her last larvae! It had almost reached her when Marcella jumped. The second to last thing that went through the grudge fly’s mind was “humans aren’t supposed to be able to do that!” The last thing that went through the grudge fly’s mind was the opposite end of the grudge fly. Marcella dropped the ten or so feet back to the ground, landing with an unnaturally soft thump. She smirked at the gooey blue blob behind her. “The thing spirits always forget is that there are, in fact, some downsides to poltergeisting.” The fly may have been fast, but even it was no match for a large sturdy elm. As Marcella slipped a marble back into her pocket, its color faded from a dull grey to bright blue streaked with white.

“Did you hear that, Collin? Sounded like crime to me!” Marcella looked around, the voice was coming from a nearby clearing: past the line where the trees stopped and the edge of a field began. A soccer field. “Oh man, I didn’t realize I had come this far.” Mayview Middle School held few positive memories for her and she tended to avoid it as much as possible. “All we could hear was you yelling, Suzy.” “Shudup, Dmitri, Collin can speak for himself. You heard that crash right, Collin?” “Actually I-“ “Told you he heard something. C’mon let’s investigate! Everybody spread out!” Marcella decided she didn’t want to be spotted snooping around in the woods behind the middle school on the opposite end of town from her own school. She hid in a nearby thicket. She could hear the small group drawing closer. “What do you think we’ll even find out here anyway? Suspicious squirrels?” “Well, Dmitri, I’m glad you asked. As a matter of fact, I just so happened to overhear a member of the Activity Club -“ (The tone of voice Suzy used to say ‘Activity Club’ was the kind of tone people usually reserve for such things as ‘cockroaches’ or ‘infidels’ or perhaps the name of the bandit gang who burned my small rural village and murdered my family and who I’ve dedicated my life to training in order to defeat) mention that they would be meeting out here after school today. I thought it might be worth investigating.” “Suzy, you stuffed yourself into the locker next to Max’s and waited for two hours until he finally showed up.” “Your point, Collin? A good investigative journalist must be prepared to do what it takes to get the scoop.” They were quite close now. Almost to the bush Marcella was hiding in. Suddenly they stopped. “Ok, Collin, you go left, Dmitri, straight. I’ll go right. Make sure to stay in contact via radio.” “You call this a radio?” “You know it’s the best we can do with our club’s funds, Dmitri.” “I was referring more to the glitter glue.” “Hey, Suzy, I thought you said you knew where the Activity Club was meeting. Wouldn’t left be the opposite direction?” “It’s important to be thorough in your investigations.” “Right, but-“ “Move out, team!” Marcella heard a deep sigh and a resigned plodding away through the underbrush. Another, lighter set of footsteps went the other way at a much faster pace. Almost as though someone had somewhere specific to be as soon as possible. Then Marcella noticed a pair of white sneakers standing next to her thicket. They weren’t walking anywhere. The other footsteps faded away. Marcella looked up. “Hi Dmitri.” “Hey Marcy.” “You know I hate it when people call me that.” “Yep.” Marcella stood up and dusted herself off. “Sounds like you have somewhere to be.” “Nah, Suzy can handle herself without my help.” “That’s what I mean.” “Oh, ha. Well, I’m not too worried about it.” “I thought you were part of the Activity club.” “I was.” “Oh.” There was an awkward pause. Well, awkward for Marcella. Dmitri never seemed to be awkward. Like a middle schooler talking with a high schooler in terse phrases about a ghost club in the woods behind the school was the most normal thing ever. “Weellp, I’ve gotta go. Always nice chatting with you, kid.” She gave Dmitri a pat on the shoulder. The look in his eyes could melt glass but his expression remained unperturbed. His hands never left his pockets. “See ya later, Marcy.” They turned and began to walk in different directions. “Hey Dmitri” Collin’s voice came through the trees. Marcella dove into another bush. “I heard voices, were you talking to somebody?” “Nope. Just coming up with some new lyrics.” “Oh, cool. Should we go after Suzy yet or…” “Eh, give it a minute or so.” The sound of something crashing through the trees came from the direction Suzy had gone. “On second thought, maybe we should check it out.” Marcella stood as they dashed off and removed a small rope with a loop on it from her wrist. The other end hung over a tree branch nearby. It smelled of orange juice. “Who put this thing here?” She muttered to herself. Then she heard a familiar buzzing overhead. “Not again.” Another large fly passed overhead. It wasn’t attacking but it was flying with purpose. “Aw man, I thought I got the last of them.” She rushed after the fly and toward the distant crashing.

“Do you hear it, Collin?” “Yeah I mean it’s pretty loud.” “That’s the sound of a scoop.” “Sounds like a moose.” “Don’t be ridiculous, Dmitri. A moose sounds more like- wait, I won’t fall for that again. We can’t afford to blow our cover this time.” “Wow, you got me Suzy. Foiled again.” The three were huddled behind an overgrown shed. Nearby, a few rocky outcroppings poked out of the hillside above the forrest of pine trees that stretched for miles around this side of the town. A few of the pine trees below seemed to be moving. This was where the crashing was coming from. “You’re sure you saw the Activity club?” whispered Collin. “Sure I’m sure.” Said Suzy “Just before you got here I saw them go behind that rock.” “That one?” “Didn’t I tell you to go the other way? We coulda flanked ‘em.” “But if I had gone the other way I would-“ “Shhh. Look!” Mr. Spender ascended one of the rock outcroppings and posed dramatically. “Now kids, I want you to pay close attention. This can be a great learning opportunity for all of you. Especially you Isaac.” Suddenly, he flew backward off the rock and landed in the grass below. After a moment, a driving-gloved hand emerged with one finger held upward. “Lesson one: Never let your guard down.” “Thank you for the demonstration, sir.”

“What are they doing?” Whispered Suzy. “Perhaps some kind of elaborate role-playing game.” “Shut up, no one asked you Collin.” “Maybe we should go ask them.” said Dmitri amicably. “Don’t you dare! So help me if you blow our cover I’ll… I’ll… cut your salary for a week!” “Oh no… my salary.” “Well, you’ll be sorry, ok.” “I’m shaking just thinking about it.” “Shh, stop distracting me. I have an idea.”

Marcella was not getting paid enough for this. True, the Consortium never actually paid anybody at all. There had been that thing with the ecto tokens for a while until people began to realize that the tokens got up and walked away every time you stopped watching them and they always seemed to end up in BL’s treasure hoard in the end. Regardless, she wasn’t getting paid enough for this just on general principle. The fly wasn’t moving at full speed which meant she could just barely keep up with it. “Land, you dumb bug.” she said between gritted teeth. Her side hurt from all the running she had been doing and she was feeling quite dehydrated. Suddenly the ground dropped away in front of her and she skidded to a halt. Ahead were a few rocks, a shed, and the flailing tendrils of a horrifying monstrosity. This was where the fly was headed. “Oh no,” She gasped “It’s a Putrimoid.”

Suzy had a plan. Whatever the Activity club was doing, it was definitely illegal. If not now, it could be illegal later she was sure. It all depended on how she spun the story. And she would get the story whatever it took. “Collin, you’re with me. I need somebody to carry the camera case. We’re going to get some shots from down there, right next to the action. Dmitri, you stay up here and get some establishing shots, B-rolls, rolling shutters, stuff like that.” Dmitri thought quickly. “Thanks for trusting me with the more important job, Suzy. I’ll be able to get way better shots from up here without any trees or anything in the way.” “Hmm, on second thought, maybe you should go down and try your luck in the trees. As the head journalist, it is my responsibility to make sure we get the best photographs possible for our audience. Therefore I shall take pictures from up here.” “Sure thing, Suzy.” Said Dmitri. He breathed a sigh of relief to himself as he crept down the hill. No need to add Suzy and Collin getting squashed to the mix of today’s problems.

Marcella considered her options. A Putrimoid was the result of a dying animal, usually a deer caught by a wolf or something, which ends up as a ghost at the same time as a related spirit is created from something nearby. If these two come together in just the wrong way, they can get stuck together. Potentially things can get worse from there and the spirits can mutate and grow and feed off of the purification of the dead animal which is where they draw their name. Really gross, really dangerous. Highly likely to poltergeist. This one had flailing tendrils almost as long as the surrounding trees were tall. Some other spirits and ghosts including the bloatfly hovered around it at relatively safe distance. Sadness on this scale tends to attract them. Occasionally a stray tendril would slice through one that got too close and it would poof out of existence. The trees crashed and waved where it struck them. Clearly a full-blown poltergeist. “Ooh, boy. How do I handle this?” A bolt of electricity arced from behind a rock and struck the end of a tentacle. It recoiled momentarily and then lashed out with a violent smack that shook the ground. “No, no, no, no! The journalists will see you!” After a moment’s hesitation Marcella’s brows set in a determined frown. She clenched her fist and leapt from the cliff.

“Did you see that!” “You’re kneeling on my neck.” moaned Collin, his voice slightly muffled. “A good stepladder wouldn’t complain so much. There was some kind of flash and the whole ground shook!” “I think they’re just setting off some fireworks or something. I doubt we’re going to see anything interesting today.” “Dmitri! Why are you back already?” Dmitri shrugged. “Eh, I couldn’t find any good places to take pictures. Besides, there’s nothing interesting to see anyway.” The ground shook with a boom that shook rocks loose from the hillside. A blond spike of hair and a paintbrush emerged from behind a rock with a terrible war cry. The yell descended down the hill out of sight with a flapping of sandals, getting fainter. There was a sharp crack and then the yell got louder again as it came back up the hill. Apparently the charge had met some resistance. “Dmitri!” “Ok, fine, I’ll go back down.”

Time froze as Marcella fell through the air. The sky turned black and filled with an endless starscape. Standing on the forest floor yet towering high above it stood a blocky, roughly humanoid figure holding a massive beam across its shoulders. It’s face was lost in shadow. “WHY DO YOU HESITATE, CHILD?” “I’m not… hesitating. I’m planning my next move.” “THERE IS NO NEED TO PLAN, YOU HAVE MY POWER ON YOUR SIDE.” Marcella glanced at the marble in her hand. At first glance, it appeared to be a flat, dull grey, but if you looked closer you would see intricate details: tiny divots and cracks almost like… craters. “I don’t want to compromise my deal with the consortium. I can’t let the people down there see me.” “I AM THE FULCRUM ON WHICH THE WORLD HANGS. I AM THE SCALES ON WHICH ARE WEIGHED THE SANDS OF TIME. IF I HAD BUT ANOTHER EARTH TO STAND UPON I COULD MOVE THE WORLD. THERE IS NO NEED TO OBSERVE THE PETTY RULES AND REGULATIONS SO NEEDLESSLY PRESSED UPON YOU.” “I’m the same as everybody else, Fulcrum. And you’re not as great as you think.” Color returned to the world as Marcella’s feet touched lightly down to the rocky hillside. The marble turned blue and white again and she slid more heavily down some gravel and stopped behind a tree. She peaked briefly around it to make sure everyone’s attention was still on the shaking trees ahead and then ducked her head and darted between the pines.

Max lounged against a moss-covered rock, bat hanging loosely at his side. “Nice going, Isaac. Almost got it that time.” “Maybe if you would help a little we could actually make some progress here.” Spender was giving some inspirational instruction from the sidelines which was difficult to hear over the din from the trees below. Isabel was busy elsewhere on another mission which she had called ‘more important than some weak old rot ghost’. Ed was making another attempt at a charge. This time he managed to cut almost a whole inch off the tip of a tendril with an ink slash before making a hasty retreat. “Nah, it looks like you guys have got it under control. Anyway, what am I supposed to do? I’ve got magnet powers. Do you see anything magnetic?” “Well, you could try doing something.” seethed Isaac. “What if you ran up to there and then I could push you up over the thing with a wind blast. You could aim your bat down at a weak spot and I could shoot a lightning bolt through the bat and deal some devastating damage!” “Wow, what a great plan. I like it… except maybe for the part where I get tossed through the air over an angry tentacle monster and then you shoot a lightning bolt at me.” “Well, you come up with something then!” “I have.” “What is it?” “You’re looking at it.” Max started a game of snake on his phone.

Suzy was beside herself with frustration. “I can’t see anything, they won’t come out from behind that rock but if I get closer, they’ll see me!” “Don’t worry Suzy. I’m sure they’ll have to come out in the open at some point to eat or sleep.” Collin said helpfully. He was sitting in the shade massaging his neck. “No, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands. I’m just going to have to go down there, no matter the risk.” “Ok, well have fun.” “Oh, I will. I certainly will. Muahahaha” “You know your evil laugh would be more convincing if you actually were laughing not just saying muahaha like a normal word.” “Let me have this Collin.”

The beast loomed through the trees ahead. A pulsating shapeless mass with dozens of protruding tentacles flailing in every direction. Some passed through the things they struck without a mark, others thrashed through the trees with a horrible cacophony of destruction. The overall effect was very disconcerting. “Ok, here we go.” said Marcella, but her feet didn’t move. Heroics are more easily said than done. “I just need to find an opening.” Suddenly there was a calm. The tendrils calmed for a moment and a sudden hush fell over the valley. “What is…?” Then the Putrimoid shivered and a large eye opened on its side. It was red-rimmed, twitchy, and opened sideways but it was definitely a functioning eyeball because it looked directly at Marcella. “Oh no. It mutated again.” Marcella barely had time to dodge as a tendril came smashing down on the place she had been standing moments earlier. She stumbled into a tree. “This is not good.”

Ed had an idea. It was a good idea because he had seen it in the movies multiple times and it almost always worked. “I’m going in!” He proclaimed. Max looked at him skeptically but Isaac, who was more in tune with common story tropes, began to look panicked. “N-No! Ed, that is not going to work! Do NOT-“ “That’s what they always say.” Said Ed grimly “But sometimes a man’s just gotta do what he’s gotta do.” “Ed!” Ed began to charge down the hill once more, but something was different this time. Maybe it was the set of his shoulders, maybe it was the hard, steely look in his eyes, or maybe it was the fact that his battle cry was so high pitched it could have shattered plate glass.

Marcella was nearly exhausted. There were only so many tentacles you could dodge before your luck ran out. She took cover behind one of the sturdier-looking trees as another attack flew by. “I can’t even get close to it.” The massive eye swiveled away from Marcella and towards the open hillside. A small boy with a paintbrush was flailing his way down the hill screaming wildly. “What does he think he’s… oh no.” There was a blur as a tentacle shot forward, almost faster than the eye could follow. It wrapped itself around the boy and hoisted him into the air. Marcella watched helplessly as the tentacle was retracted, pulling the boy in towards its awful bulk. He struggled valiantly but was pulled inexorably inward. Marcella dashed towards him desperately but a tendril caught her before she had gone 5 steps, knocking her to the ground. She watched helplessly as the tentacle finally dragged the boy the last few feet and then with an awful ’schlorp’ he disappeared into the grisly mass. “You fetid freak! You pustule of incontinence!” Marcella yelled. “I will be your end if it kills me!” The putrimoid paid her no attention. Her vision narrowed, she felt her heart rate spike. This was it. She had to act. She only saw one path forward and it was looking very bumpy. The sky went black. Her marble was in her fist. “Do you have my back Fulcrum?” “ARE YOU HESITATING AGAIN?” “No, just figuring out the timing.” The sky snapped back to blue. Marcella sprinted forward. A tentacle lay limply on the ground, apparently forgotten for the moment as the putrimoid flailed its others. She ducked as another went by her head and then jumped heavily onto the grounded tendril. It snapped upwards reflexively flinging Marcella high into the air. Much higher than she should have flown. For a moment, the earth fell away and she seemed to be suspended in mid air. In the distance was the lake between the two hills of Mayview. The setting sun sparkled off the still water. Pine trees carpeted the landscape below. Marcella looked down. She saw the shed and the cliff with the three journalists one of which was snapping pictures wildly. She saw the Activity club further below, quietly freaking out about their lost comrade. Directly below, the eye of the monster stared up at her looking about as surprised as a horrid tentacled blob is capable of looking. Or maybe she just imagined that part. “Taste the wrath of Jupiter you skrunge!” She shouted. The marble in her fist turned from a dull grey to a pattern of creamy bands adorned with a small red spot. You see, mass may be consistent, but weight is relative and a fulcrum can tilt both ways. A pound of lead may weigh the same as a pound of feathers, but if you move the lead to, say, Neptune, it would weigh much more. If you move the mass on a lever further from the hinge, it tends to have more of an effect. And if you put an angry teenage girl 60 feet in the air and give her the same weight she would have at the core of Jupiter, well… Marcella surrounded herself with a prism of purple spectral energy, point downwards and plummeted at a stomach churning rate. There was a squelch that would scar the memories of everyone present for years and a sudden, deathly silence.

“That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever done!” exclaimed Ed proudly. Ed stood in the middle of a clearing of destruction and pale orange goop and looked around dazed. He was covered with slime from head to toe. “Wow Ed!” Said Max. “I didn’t think you had it in you, but in the end, it was the Blob that had you in it.” “I knew you could do it.” Said Isaac, trying to sound nonchalant. “Never doubted it for a second.”

“Yes! Victory! I finally have definitive proof that the Activity Club is up to no good! My scheme has finally succeeded!” Suzy held up her camera in victory. Collin sat against the shed rubbing his neck. “At least call it a plan or something. You don’t have to flat out say you’re evil.” he muttered. “Hovering around weirdly has got to be against some kind of rule somewhere!” Ed’s antics today had looked very strange from a non-spectral perspective. “Oh, hey, Suzy. By the way.” Dmitri walked over to the shed where they were hiding again. “Did you remember to replace the memory card after I took it out to use in my camera?” “Memory card!?” Suzy frantically checked the card slot on her camera. “I told you to do that before we left!” “Oh, whoops.” “Dmitriiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!”

#Paranatural

[eorzeasntm]

ENTM Tumblr Cycle 10 Round Seven Results

Hi folks!  Last week we sent our models out into some bad weather.  This round presents some unusual challenges, specifically capturing the environment and balancing dimmer lighting against the gloomy background.  

While all the models emerged from this round slightly damp (or dry if they were smart enough to get out of the rain), the model whose photo most captured the hearts and minds of our voters this round was:

Odharnait “Ona” Greene

Congratulations!  Rongi Pongi was so impressed with this picture that he said it will inspire a future round of ENTM called “Doors.”  The judges and community agreed that this shot was lovely and a fantastic use of the watercolor filter to brighten the stormy night. 

We have one more week in Tumblr Cycle 10.  In the meantime, ENTM Instagram Cycle 1 is in Week 2 and community voting will begin shortly!  Please visit our Instagram Page for more information. 

Also the October Haukke Manner challenge will be closing at 10 PM Eastern TODAY (Oct 24th) so hurry up and get your entry in for a chance to win a minion from the Mogstation.

Our judges have feedback for our models after the cut. 

Judge Kai

Adam: This is a nice shot. It looks like you're trying to outrace the coming storm and reach a safe haven before getting drenched. You did a good job with the lighting, and used the surrounding area to your advantage! It was a very smart decision to have those glowing flowers in the shot and surrounding you. I can believe that the light that is hitting you is coming from them, and that is why the area (and you) are brighter, despite the darkness that seems to be engulfing the area. There are only two things I can think to suggest. The first is I wish you were just a little closer in this image so we could see you better. Which also leads to my second. I might have gone for a slightly lighter outfit, color wise. Because the image, and the background, is so dark a lot of those black tones start to blend in with what's behind you. Overall, you did a great job!

James: First off, I don't know if you did this on purpose, but I find it very amusing and great timing that it looks as if the lightning is coming right down to touch your hand. Moving on from that, this is an image that, to me, seems to hold sadness or loss in it. It's like the rain is reminding you of something from the past, and it's very lovely is a melancholy sort of way. You definitely pop against the darker background, sticking with the blonds, white and lighter grays are helping you a lot in this image. The lighting is very good as well, but I am wondering what the source of the light is? Perhaps a lightning bolt? While the lighting is well done, it just seems a bit overlit for not having a light source in the area. I think you could have pulled back just a bit, and still gotten away with this image. Other than that, I think you did a very good job!

Ni'ko: I am going to assume, from the way that you look in this image, you're the type of cat that doesn't like to get wet. Well, I don't blame you and that doesn't look like the type of storm I would want to be hanging out in either. Overall this is a good image. The lighting is believable for the time of day. It could be a fire burning just out of view, and it's casting its light on you. I also like the outfit that you picked for a few reasons. It matches the surroundings very well and seeing that this is a darker image, your skin tone pops. The dark purple of the swimming trunks is a good pick, it stands out from the neutral earthy tones around you and gives something that draws the eye to you. The pose is a little awkward as if someone caught you in mid-run,  and you're leaving a lot up to the viewer in this instance with the story you're trying to convey but overall you did a good job!

Judge Vederah

Cowbot: There's a really great, almost ominous feeling to this screenshot. Positioning of your character to the object he's looking at is spot on and helps bring the eye across the entire image. Only issue I have is this image reads way to dark. I think if a bit more lighting was used then your character wouldn't blend into the background as much, and we'd be able to more clearly see the rain effect. That detail was almost completely lost with how dark this picture was. Ona: This is, in my opinion, the best use of a gpose filter I've seen in this entire competition. I love how the water color effect really amplifies the rain effect in the background. I also really appreciate how the cool and warm tones of this image come together in this shot.  The only thing I could think of to change is possibly a very small light used to the characters right- the only downside of the watercolor filter is it blurs a lot of the smaller details. Here it cast a very dark shadow on her scales, losing the definition in her face. Wren: This shot reminds me of the scene from the original, cartoon Snow White as she's making her way through the haunted forest.  I just love how innocent and genuinely frightened your character looks against such a foreboding backdrop.  Lighting is the only issue I have here. The background on the right portion of the screen is so dark that just reads as empty space. I think if you had upped the intensity of the lighting on that half of the image just a touch, it would've popped those details in the foreground.

Judge M’Telihgo

Nadede -  I like this.  I love how you stand out against the background.  I also like the umbral static weather effect very much.  I enjoyed playing with different settings and see how images turned out.  Have you ever done that?  It could be fun.  I do wonder what you are looking at while doing your chakra, you seem so intent on it.  I think the bright colors of your armbands and your pants pop against your pale skin.  Which leads to my only real criticism of this picture and is minor.  While your top has some color in it, I think it blends into you a little, not too much but another color may have been better.  Still, you look awesome!

Chee – I love the background.  I like dark colors and things that seem kind of spooky, and this has that for me.  I approve of the location.  For all of that, I like it very much.  Your outfit in a lighter blue makes you stand out against your very dark background and I think the colors suit you well.  There is one thing that makes it so that I cannot enjoy this picture as much as I would like to.  I’m not sure what happened, but there is a ghosting around your face as if you were caught between frames of an animation where it is starting to draw in the next one.  Sadly, that blur makes it so that looking at it for more than a moment makes my eyes water.  It’s a shame too since I really like it overall.

Lantis – Ooh.  I do like this spot for exactly this reason.  FIGHT!!  Anyway, there is a negative though when doing this at night.  Dead space.  I see where your addition of the sakura effect may have been used to try and counter this and it does help.  I also think that a little different timing of your sparring partner would really make this pop much more.  As it is right now, you are in action and your partner is looking away, at their shoes.  If you could have caught it where they are looking at you, it would definitely sell the action seen much more like they are trying to parry your blow by timing their draw.  Adventure on the high seas!  Kind of anyway.  I still give you credit for catching the lightning bolt just right, I’ve done it and I found it to be a chore.  Well done!

Judge Kusuh

Azalea: I'm a huge fan of the overall "mood" of the picture- a paladin standing in a dark storm; did they recently fail a mission? Are they brooding? Is this where the orchestra swells to give a tearful moment? As I've said before, when I'm left thinking about the possibilities behind an image, it's a good sign! This may be one of my favorite pictures from you so far. The setting, the use of the pencil filter to add more of a "rain" effect, and the overall pose show me that you've given some real thought to everything that goes into this picture. The frame choice is also something I love, but it also comes with this one small critique: when you use this frame, you are using it to trick the viewer into seeing three separate pictures in a single shot. When you have parts of yourself spilling over into the other two frames, this kills the illusion and just leaves the picture looking disjointed. My advice for a picture like this would be to play with your zoom and pose options so that you can fit yourself into a single frame! You're improving every week, I can't wait to see what comes next!

Haila: You have a wonderful sense of visual flow going on in this picture. At first glance, I can easily follow from the spark in the top left corner, down the spear, to your face, and then follow your eyes to your fingers and then off the right side of the image. The choice of color (and the limit of color) were also a smart choice here; the limited palette really adds a sense of impact. Something to think about: This is more on the side of a "high fashion" shot as opposed to a story shot. Don't get me wrong, I very much like both kinds, but one of the things I've seen many ENTM models get pointed out (myself included) is when a shot lacks a story. Your shots in the past have always been a mix of both fashion and story, and this one feels like it shoots straight to the side of fashion. Once again, this isn't really a bad thing, but it's something I want you to be aware of as you plan your final shots in the upcoming weeks. Excellent work so far!

Judge Rongi

Lily:  With this shot, I think you found a really great lighting that makes your character look gorgeous. You could crop out this whole shot and just have it on you, shoulders up, and it'd be a beautiful head shot. The shot itself fits the theme of the week, but I wish it had a little more oomph! to it. I have "Summertime Sadness" stuck in my head now thanks to you though. Haha. I would have loved to see more posing, a stronger background choice, and a clear reason for why you are standing in the rain. Rymm:  These colors are everything. Great choice in gear. I love that the backshot is 3/4 of the way so we can still see a bit of your face. I wish we could see more, but its just enough to not be a backshot dead on. I usually would be against a solid black background, but using the lightning and your outfit colors to pop out like that is amazing. Had you been wearing all black, this wouldn't have worked at all. I love the pose of both you and the lightning. It creates a really interested shape in the middle, like dancing. Ysildor: You are going to get electrocuted waving that pick around like that! I love the idea as it beckons to Thor's hammer. I wonder if you had tried or could use an hammer instead. The background has those nice buildings in it that creates a line across the image that leads the viewer straight to you. And then we follow your shape up in to the sky and back down with the lighting. Really well done composition wise. 

#entm #eorzea's next top model #entm tumblr cycle 10 #ffxiv

[twistedscandal]

Title: Netflix and No Chill

Pairing: Bonnie Bennett/Kai Parker

Summary: Bonnie and her friends are supposed to be gathering at Lockwood Manor for Halloween to watch scary movies with Kai.  What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: None really.  A little language.

A/N: I come from a long line of procrastinators, but this is ridiculous. The Vampire Diaries was still on the air when I started writing this. Then I thought I would revise it and post if for this year's bookai week on tumblr and I still didn't finish until now. So now I am posting a Halloween fic on the day after Thanksgiving. Shameful. I stopped watching the show during season five then picked back up for bonkai in season six then stopped again when I realized they were only going to continue to pay Bonnie dust, so I apologize for any details I may have gotten wrong. This fic contains vague spoilers for a couple of old movies.

It didn’t really surprise Bonnie that Halloween would be one of Kai’s favorite holidays and he had gone all out with the decorations. The pumpkin under Bonnie’s arm seemed to grow even heavier when she realized how unnecessary it was to have brought it. The winding driveway leading up to the front door was already littered with jack o lanterns. Each one bearing a different, grotesque carved expression. The front porch was covered with fake spiderwebs, cartoon cut outs of witches and skeletons posed in a variety of compromising positions. He had done his best to make Lockwood Manor look like a haunted house. Bonnie thought the outside of the house looked sufficiently spooky but knew it didn’t compare to the scariness of the monster currently dwelling inside.

The post it note stuck to the front door read, “Come on in” in Kai’s neat, blocky handwriting; a demented looking smiley face hastily drawn in the corner. Bonnie let herself into the Lockwood house, trying to ignore the general sense of unease that had been hovering over her all day. It was bad enough that they were even having a get together here in the first place but the fact that somehow, she was the only one whose schedule would allow her to get there first and get things set up left a sour taste in her mouth.

It had been a while since Bonnie and her friends had all been in the same room for reasons that weren’t life threatening, so Elena had suggested that with Halloween approaching, it would be a great time to get together and watch a bunch of scary movies. Horrible events that were confined to a screen and happening to other people seemed like a nice change of pace. Also, the thought of a get together that had almost zero potential to end in bloodshed was appealing.

There was one problem however, they didn’t really have anywhere to host said movie night. The dorm room was too small, casa Gilbert was no more and neither Bonnie or Caroline had stepped foot in their homes in over a year; there were too many memories of lost loved ones in the places they grew up to imagine going to either place for a party.

Not even the boarding house was a viable option. Stefan and Damon’s big, beautiful flat screen had been broken during some fight or other and they hadn’t bothered to buy another one to replace it. Neither of them watched a lot of tv anyway. Bonnie supposed that drunken housewives, cooking shows and whatever teenage love triangle tripe the CW was offering, didn’t have much appeal when you were over 100 years old.

There was a tv in Damon’s bedroom that he claimed he only used to “hate-watch” Grey’s Anatomy. Bonnie wondered if it really was hate-watching though, considering how misty-eyed Damon got when McDreamy bit it. That was all beside the point because there was no way Bonnie, Stefan, Caroline, Damon and Elena were all going to cram into Damon’s bedroom (can you say awkward) to watch movies anyway.

They were kind of stumped until Caroline suggested an alternative: “Why not just go to Kai’s place?” And by Kai’s place she meant Tyler’s. Kai had been squatting on the Lockwood property for so long that people had actually started referring to it as his. Bonnie had objected, but of course she had been unanimously overruled. There really weren’t any better choices and the Lockwood estate did have an actual home theater.

Apparently socializing with Kai was a small price to pay for cushioned seats and surround sound.

Bonnie was less than thrilled about the situation but determined not to let having to be around Kai ruin the evening.

She made her way to the kitchen, put down the pumpkin, shrugged out of her coat and began to unpack the grocery bag she’d brought with her. She laid tomatoes, onions, garlic, jalapenos, cilantro and a couple of limes on the island and got a cutting board off the counter. She searched around for a bowl and found one in the cabinet over the stove. Bonnie stretched up onto the tips of her toes and had just about gotten her finger hooked over the edge of the bowl when it suddenly seemed to move further back out of her reach.

Bonnie leaned further in and just when she got her hand on the bowl, once again it seemed to move closer to the back of the cabinet. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Stop it, Kai.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Kai appeared so suddenly that Bonnie wondered if he had cloaked himself and been standing there watching her all the while. He had perfected the art of casually draping himself in doorways and there he stood, his hair damp, his chest bare and a black t-shirt thrown over his shoulder.

Bonnie turned to face him full on. “I know you moved that bowl out of my reach.”

“Come on, Bonnie,” Kai said attempting and failing to look innocent. “Do I seem like the kind of person to engage in that sort of pointless and immature behavior?”

“Yes, Kai. You seem exactly like that sort of person because you are exactly that sort of person.”

“Don’t be like that. I was just having a little fun and I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. You do remember that you’re a witch, right? You could have floated the stupid thing right into your hands.”

“Yeah, well not all of us witches are powerful coven leaders with magic to spare.”

“You’re a Bennett. I seriously doubt that moving a bowl would tire you out.” Kai scoffed.

“Whatever. My Grams taught me that it was a waste of energy to use magic for anything that I could do like a normal person.”

Kai gave Bonnie an incredulous look. “That’s terrible advice. You’re not normal; you’re extraordinary. Try acting like it and you might actually have some fun once in a while.”

Bonnie ignored Kai, turning her back to him while she made another grab for the bowl.

“You are the most hard headed person I’ve ever met in my life.” Kai slid in behind Bonnie and reached over her to pull the bowl down from the cabinet.

Bonnie’s breath caught in her chest as she felt his body move against hers. For just a moment something in her brain went sideways and she wondered what it might feel like to lean back onto Kai’s muscular frame; to let herself be overwhelmed by the warmth of his body and the clean soapy smell emanating from his skin. The moment passed as quickly as it came though and her common sense clicked back into place as she elbowed Kai in the stomach. “Are you even vaguely familiar with the concept of personal space?”

The bowl clanged against the counter as Kai unceremoniously dropped it from his hand. “Are you familiar with the concept of saying thank you?”

“As if I would ever thank you for anything.” Bonnie grabbed a knife and began chopping tomatoes. She watched Kai out the corner of her eye, thankful as he finally shrugged into his t shirt and pulled it down over his torso.

He leaned against the island, his dark blue eyes locked on Bonnie. “So, you’re the only one here?”

“Do you see anybody else?”

“The rest of the scooby gang is actually coming though, right?”

“Of course they are. Why would you even ask me that?”

“I’m just trying to make sure that I’m not being lured into some type of Netflix and chill situation.”

Bonnie knew that she shouldn’t be, but she was continuously amazed by some of the nonsense that made its way out of Kai’s mouth. “First of all, ew. Second of all, what the hell would you know about Netflix and chill?”

“Call it whatever you want, but inviting someone over under the pretense of watching a movie just so you can get them alone in a dark room and start making moves is a tale as old as time. I’m sure there was some Neanderthal back in the day trying to get a woman to come over for cave drawings and chill.”

“Elena and Damon are at the grocery store getting more snacks.”

Kai’s eyebrows shot straight up. “You’re letting those two be in charge of the food? Don’t be too surprised if they show up with nothing but a bag of gummy bears, a few pints of o-negative and a gallon of bourbon. What about vampire Barbie and Ken? Where are they?”

“If you’re talking about Stefan and Caroline, he’s picking her up from Whitmore. She has a late class on Fridays. They should all be here in a little while. You and I will not be alone and your virtue, such as it is, shall remain intact.”

Kai made a dramatic show of rolling his eyes. “Bummer.” A hint of a smile danced around his lips. “I’ll be right back.” He bounced out of the kitchen, humming to himself.

Bonnie resumed chopping tomatoes and wondered if that was going to be the new normal for her interactions with Kai. Ambiguous (and potentially sinister) hovering had been replaced with flagrant (and terrible) attempts at flirting.

Kai returned to the kitchen a few moments later. He took a couple of beers out of the fridge and opened them; he put one bottle down in front of Bonnie as he took a long drink from the other. “What are you making?”

“Salsa.”

“I’ve heard that there’s places called grocery stores where they sell salsa already made in jars.”

“Do you really want to be a smart ass while I have this knife in my hand?”

Kai ignored Bonnie’s threat. “Want some help?”

“No.”

Kai washed his hands then grabbed another knife from the butcher’s block. He stood beside Bonnie and began working on an onion.

Bonnie, understandably, was still somewhat wary of Kai with a sharp object in his hand, but after her initial apprehension passed they worked in a somewhat companionable silence. She thought it might not be so bad after all. Her friends would be there soon and then there would be four people to buffer the space between her and Kai. Damon especially always seemed quite eager to provide a barrier between Bonnie and Kai, both metaphorically and physically. All she had to do was hold on and hope that he could be quiet for just a little while longer.

“Hey, Bon.” Kai’s voice cut into Bonnie’s thoughts; she should have known him being quiet wasn’t going to last. “May I ask you a personal question?”

“If I say no, aren’t you just going to ask me anyway?”

“You know me so well. How come you and Dudley Do Right never hooked up?”

“Why do you keep calling him that? You know his name is Matt.”

Kai stared at Bonnie as though she had said something ridiculous. “And you know that I don’t care. Stop trying to change the subject.”

“There is no subject because I never agreed to have this conversation in the first place.” Bonnie put down her knife and looked at Kai, curiosity getting the better of her. “Why do you want to know anyway?”

Kai shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just curious. He’s around. You’ve known him forever. You’re hot. He’s hot.”

Bonnie raised an eyebrow at Kai. “You think Matt is hot?”

“I’m very comfortable with who I am so I’ve got no problem saying another guy is attractive. Young Matthew is quite handsome; in a bland, generic, Sears catalog model kind of way.”

“How is it that even your compliments manage to be insults?”

“Just one of my many God given talents.”

“I doubt that God has anything to do with any of your so-called talents.”

“I can’t really argue with that. Now let’s get back on topic, Bonbon. Do you not think Matt is cute or were you worried you two would bore each other into a coma?”

“I don’t know.” Bonnie said while shrugging her shoulders. “I guess I’ve always thought of Matt in a brotherly way. Not to mention the fact that he and Elena were attached at the hip for as long as I could remember. Even after they broke up it was hard not to think of him as her boyfriend. Then he was with Caroline and had that thing with Rebekah. After that….” Bonnie voice trailed off.

Kai leaned in closer. “What?” Bonnie shook her head and looked away. “Come on, tell me.”

“I don’t know.” Odd as it was, it felt good to finally voice her feelings out loud. Kai obviously would not have been her first choice for a confidante but at the very least she knew she could tell him anything, he wouldn’t judge and wouldn’t share it with anyone else.

“Matt’s a great guy but there’s never really been any kind of spark between us and even if there had been, I’m not interested in being anyone else’s second or third or in Matt’s case, fourth, choice. Been there, done that and it wasn’t a whole lot of fun. The next relationship I’m in I need to know that I’m not somebody’s consolation prize because they wanted someone else and settled for me. I need to be somebody’s first choice.”

Kai was silent for a moment. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Again, even if I say no, you’re just going to keep talking anyway.”

Kai shot a couple of finger guns in Bonnie’s direction. “Exactly.”

“In that case sure,” Bonnie said, her voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. “I’d love to hear a secret.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend before.”

“Shocking.” Bonnie responded in a deadpan tone.

“I know right. These boyish good looks and devilish charms, I should have been beating the ladies off with a stick.”

Bonnie wondered if her sarcasm had truly gone over Kai’s head or if he was simply choosing to ignore it. “Not what I meant, at all, but okay.”

“My father tried to keep it under wraps for as long as he could but by the time I was fourteen word was out amongst the coven that I was a magical dud and a budding sociopath to boot, so none of those girls were exactly beating a path to my door. Combine that with dear old dad’s insistence that the family not fraternize with outsiders and that added up to a very empty social calendar for yours truly.”

“So, you never went out with anybody? You didn’t have any friends?”

“Not really. Sometimes I used to sneak into town. As useless and unbearable as I found most of the other kids in the coven, I’ve got to admit that nobody can conjure up a better fake ID than a bunch of bored, repressed teenage witches. And it’s not like we were going to snitch on each other. We all snuck into town. The atmosphere in the coven was suffocating; I wasn’t the only one that needed to get out and breathe every once in a while. Wouldn’t have really mattered if I got caught anyway. I was already a lost cause in my dad’s eyes. I didn’t have anything to lose.”

Kai fell silent as a faraway look crept into his eyes. It was almost like he had forgotten Bonnie was even still in the room; like his mind had gone somewhere else entirely.

“Kai?” Bonnie spoke hoping to jar him from his thoughts.

He sparked back to life. “Anyway, it was nice to get out and talk to people that didn’t know. Hadn’t already decided what I was and what I wasn’t. Sometimes it was just enough to be around somebody that didn’t flinch if I tried to touch them.”

Despite her best efforts, Bonnie sometimes felt herself softening towards Kai. At the very least she felt sorry for the person he could have been had he been born with his own magic or born into a family that could have loved him and taught him to love himself without it. Her sympathy however dissipated quickly when she recalled the look in his eyes as he had stabbed her.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Right. My point was that I’ve never had a real relationship before, so if I have one whoever I’m with would be my first choice.” He shyly dropped his eyes a way from hers. “My only choice.”

Awkward, Bonnie thought to herself. She hoped Kai wasn’t expecting some sort of response from her because she was literally speechless. She had given up on pretending that Kai didn’t have some sort of weird thing for her but that didn’t mean she was willing to discuss it with him or anyone else anytime soon.

Bonnie looked away from Kai to check her phone. It had been more than enough time for one of the couples coming to have shown up by now. Not only had no one come, she hadn’t gotten any messages or calls either. “Where are they? I wonder if something happened.”

“Please if something happened to any of them they would have already called you begging for help by now, wouldn’t they?”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right, but still maybe- “

“Maybe nothing,” Kai said cutting Bonnie off. “Your friends have the attention spans of rabid billy goats; anything could be distracting them. I say we finish making what is sure to be some very delicious salsa, grab some chips, go downstairs and start on our first movie. I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough.”

***********************************

Bonnie and Kai were settled into the reclining seats with chips, Bonnie’s salsa, a bowl of popcorn and a big bag of Twizzlers sitting on the seat between them. Kai had insisted on dimming the lights for an authentic movie watching experience, so the only real light in the room was emanating from the screen.

It came as no surprise whatsoever that Kai was the type to talk through movies.

“I’m confused.”

“About what?”

“Are we not supposed to know that the boyfriend is the killer?”

“Really, Kai? This movie has only been on for twenty minutes. You’re not supposed to say who the killer is.”

“But I am right, aren’t I? Besides it’s not like I’m spoiling it for you. I’m the one that’s never seen this before.”

“That’s not the point. Will you be quiet?”

“If they don’t want you to guess the killer right away, they could have been a little subtler. I mean look at him. The greasy hair, the chock full of crazy eyes. I know a sociopath when I see one.”

“Well you know what they say. Takes one to know one.”

“Exactly.”

“Please shut up.”

***********************************

The first movie had ended and still Elena and Damon nor Caroline and Stefan had shown up yet. Bonnie had tried calling all of them and had only been able to get their voice mails.

“Knowing them you know what they’re probably doing.”

“What are you talking about Kai?”

He wiggled his eyebrows in suggestive manner. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Let’s start another movie.”

Amazingly Kai was able to remain quiet until the end of the second movie. “I knew he was dead all along.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“You’re right, they got me pretty good with that one. People must have freaked out back in the day.”

************************************

By the time the third movie started Kai’s chatterbox tendencies had rubbed off on Bonnie. “You do realize that these movies make absolutely no sense. Mrs. Vorhees goes on a murderous rampage to avenge Jason’s death in the first movie, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, Jason goes on a murderous rampage to avenge her death in all the rest of the movies.”

“Do you have a point, Bonnie?”

“If Jason wasn’t dead what was Mrs. Vorhees so pissed off about in the first place? If he was dead, how did he come back to life? Is he a ghost? A zombie? Every single movie other than the first one is utter nonsense because they ruin the entire premise of the series.”

“I. . .” Kai opened his mouth and then immediately closed it again. For the first time since Bonnie met him he had been rendered speechless. “I’ll be damned. I grew up watching these and I never even thought about that. Stop trying to ruin my childhood.”

***********************************

Bonnie awoke with a start. It took a minute for her to get her bearings and remember where she was. She sat up slowly, the odd angle she’d fallen asleep at had caused a crook in her neck. The room was mostly dark as the last movie that she and Kai had been watching had long since ended. She checked the time on her phone and was surprised to see that it was just after midnight. Clearly, her friends had never shown up. She wanted to be more concerned, but it wasn’t like this was the first time they’d ditched her with no warning.

Bonnie looked over at Kai. He was turned sideways in his seat with his cheek against the headrest. She was taken aback at how young and innocent he looked. She supposed even the devil himself might look harmless while sleeping. She reached across the seat between them and shook his arm. “Kai, wake up.” When she got no response, she stood up and went closer; leaning over him and poking his shoulder.

Kai suddenly jolted awake, the contents of the half empty soda can in his hand splashing up onto Bonnie’s shirt in the process. He started apologizing immediately. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Calm down. I know it was an accident.” Bonnie was surprised by the horrified look on Kai’s face. She wondered where this sort of apologetic energy had been after he’d shot her with an arrow.

Bonnie grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at her shirt, but it wasn’t doing her much good. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I always keep a change of clothes in my car.” Life in Mystic Falls had taught Bonnie to be prepared for anything. “I’m just gonna grab a clean shirt.”

Kai followed behind Bonnie as she left the room. “It’s not that bad, is it? You don’t need to leave.”

“It’s cold and it’s sticky.”

“You can just wear something of mine.” Kai almost seemed to be pleading with her to not go outside.

“What is your problem? I’m not leaving, okay. I’ll come back.” And as much as the words leaving her mouth surprised her, Bonnie also knew that she meant them wholeheartedly. She didn’t want to leave. Despite herself she’d been having the best time she’d had in a while and genuinely did not want the night to end.

“I’ll grab a fresh shirt, come back and we can start another movie. Why don’t you go ahead and start up Nightmare on Elm Street and I can tell you all the things wrong with it too? It’ll be fun.”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“Bonnie, wait.”

“What?”

“I just want to say that I had a really good time with you tonight.”

“Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye? I told you I’m coming back.”

“I know.”

Bonnie shook her head. “Weirdo.” She made a detour through the kitchen to grab her keys off the counter before making her way outside. As soon as she reached her car, her phone started going crazy.

Kai was leaning against the kitchen counter when Bonnie re-entered the house. “You know, I would have expected better from a mega powerful coven leader.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bonnie had to admit that Kai’s poker face was world class. If she didn’t know for a fact what he had done his innocent act would have been quite effective.

“I’m talking about the fact that if you had extended the boundary of your spell just a few more feet down the driveway it would have taken me much longer to figure out what you’d done.”

“Still don’t have a clue.”

“Is this really how you want to play it? As soon as I stepped foot outside my phone started ringing. I have dozens of text messages and missed calls. Caroline, Stefan, Damon and Elena have been trying to get in touch with me all night. First, their cars wouldn’t start.”

“That sounds like a problem for Triple A. Don’t know what it has to do with me though.”

“In addition to their cars not starting, they’re bound where they are. Physically incapable of walking more than five feet away from where they are.”

“That’s crazy but strange things happen in this town all the time, am I right?”

“It was a spell Kai. A spell powerful enough to keep four supernatural beings in two different locations rooted to the spots they were standing on. How do you explain that?”

“So, it was a spell. It’s not like I’m the only other witch that’s ever blown through this one-horse town.”

“You’re not the only witch, but you’re the only one that would have done this.”

“Are you kidding? The Mystic Falls Scooby gang has collectively probably made enemies on every continent across the globe. Your bestie Damon alone can’t go two seconds without pissing somebody off. The list of people that might want to ruin their nights isn’t exactly short.”

“You can’t even do me the courtesy of just admitting what you’ve done?” Kai continued to stare at Bonnie, his arms crossed over his chest; his face completely blank. “I don’t know why I bother. I thought we were having a—" She stopped short realizing what she was about to say and pulling the words back into her mouth.

“Go ahead and finish. You thought we were having a good time and that’s because we were.” Kai stepped around the kitchen counter, closing the gap between Bonnie and himself. “Maybe I just wanted an opportunity to be alone with you and show you that I’m not some completely irredeemable monster. Maybe I wanted to be given half as much of a chance as you give everyone else. So maybe I bounced the cell phone signal away from this house. Maybe I bound those idiot friends of yours to the ground they were standing on, so they couldn’t leave.”

“So, you’re finally owning up?”

“I’m owning nothing. I’m just saying maybe I did those things.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I didn’t.”

“You are so full of shit, Kai.”

“I can tell you one thing I definitely didn’t do. I didn’t do anything to make you stay. You weren’t bound in any way shape or form. None of your friends showed up and you were free to leave at any point, but you didn’t. You sat with me all night watching a bunch of dumb scary movies for no other reason except that you wanted to. There was no trick to it. You were genuinely enjoying my company more than you thought you would and more than you want to admit. I think that’s the part that probably pisses you off the most.”

Bonnie opened her mouth but closed it just as quickly. She was at a loss for a comeback because she couldn’t honestly deny anything Kai had just said. She would have been able to feel it if he had worked any magic against her and there had been nothing. They had laughed and talked, watched movies and taken a nap and she would have come back for more, if only he hadn’t done what he’d done.

This was all a little more than Bonnie was willing or able to process at the moment. “I’m out of here.” Bonnie grabbed her coat off the counter and stalked towards the living room. She turned back to look at Kai one last time before walking out the door. He was leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms dangling loosely by his sides. The air of defeat around him was almost palpable. She paused for a moment almost subconsciously willing him to say something, but he remained silent.

As the door shut behind her, she faintly heard Kai’s voice. “Happy Halloween, Bonnie.”

#bonkai #bonkai fiction #bookai2k18

[feynites]

Being a badass with an audience, yes.. Vena and Thenvunin with fear boners because their partners are too hot when they're scary, and Uthvir just has this knowing smirk and Ana doing a complete 180 when she sees Vena, going from scary huntress to goofy Ana-bo-bana x3 lol if you wrote something it'd be aweome!! no pressure of course~

“Don’t look now, Inquisitor,” Uthvir drawls. “But yourbodyguard has his eyes on us.”

Ana blinks, as they settle down the massive spoils of theirrecent hunt. The hardest part, Uthvir is pretty sure, was actually getting the white wyvern out of the bushonce they’d managed to down it. The corpse is impressive, though. Heavy, andfearsome looking, and they had probably made quite a picture, strolling out ofthe tangled vines and tall grass, avoiding the boggy ground with their gearspattered by blood, and the white wyvern burdening their shoulders.

A lightening spell had helped with the weight, at least.

Ana turns, the grim and focused look of a hunter slippingaway from her features as she spies Venavismi. And Thenvunin, of course. Theyhad left the two behind a half an hour ago, judging by mutual, unspokenassessment that the mage and bodyguard wouldn’t be best suited to tracking thewyvern away from the main paths. Not that the two men had let them go without agreat deal of protest; but, despite their skills, the ground in this region ismucky and unstable, and neither Vena nor Thenvunin are familiar with traversingsuch terrain.

Ana had played the Inquisitor card, in the end, andconvinced them to wait unless Uthvir sent up a distress signal. They had beentasked with setting up camp, near to the natural, rocky gateway at the mouth ofthe region.

And there is always a certain appeal, Uthvir thinks, inbringing a successful kill back to a warm campsite. Their muscles achingsomewhat from the exertion, their grin a little feral, still, from theirpredatory countenance. Fear is still consuming the echoes of the wyvern’s owncombative fright, which increases their satisfaction.

Not to mention their hunger. Of all sorts, really.

“We’re alright!” Ana informs Vena, all sunshine and smiles,now. “But we’ll have to cut out the organs quickly, if we want to keep themfrom going bad before we can get anything back to the keep. Hand me my pack…?”

Vena is flushed and his pupils are wide, and he shifts witha very distinctive kind ofdiscomfort, before handing Ana the requested pack. Uthvir should help her, andthey intend to; but they aren’t inclined to play so coy with their own target.

Thenvunin is still sitting next to the fire.

Still sitting, ina pose commonly reserved for disguising certain bulges at the front of one’s pants.They stalk over to him, watching his eyes go wide, and his fingers dig into theground on either side of him.  His throatbobs, and he opens his mouth, but doesn’t quite manage anything more than abreathy gasp before Uthvir descends upon him. Taking his chin between theirfingers, and tilting his head upwards to claim his lips with a fierce kiss.They draw his lip between their teeth, and let the faintest note of apossessive growl escape them just as they break it off again.

His face is veryred, when they pull back with a smirk.

For a moment, though, he simply remains frozen in place.

And then he quickly bats their hand away.

“Just what do you think you are doing?!” he demands. “Accostingme like that? How dare you, Uthvir! That is entirely unacceptable! Get yourhands off of me this instant, you fiend!”

Their hands are no longer on him, in fact, and he seems torealize that almost as soon as he makes the demand. He huffs, and flails a little,vaguely gesturing as if to chase the air around him away. A little wind kicksup at their ankles, in fact.

After a moment, they chuckle, and then incline their head.

That was definitely indiscreet of them.

“My apologies, Thenvunin. I fear I was simply consumed withlust,” they offer, with a wink.

“Uthvir!” Anaprotests. “Leave Thenvunin be, we have to clean our kill! Don’t they teach youhunter’s etiquette in Tevinter?”

Thenvunin sputters, and looks almost like he might start yellingat the Inquisitor, of all things. Butthen he seems to realize that he can’t actually object to her drawing their ownattention away without implying that he was enjoying it, and for a moment lookcomes over his face like he just half swallowed his tongue.

“They do teach us. My Keeper would be very unimpressed withme right now,” they agree, and make certain to keep the prowl in their strideas they move back over to the wyvern corpse.

Poor Venavismi, for his part, looks a little dazed. Ana’sgot her hunting face back on, as she assesses the corpse, and hefts up parts ofit, shifting it around to better carve out its stomach. Uthvir’s neverbutchered a wyvern before. They’re not really certain where the heart is, in fact, though Ana seems to know.

What she doesn’tseem to know is the effect she’s having on her poor, red-faced bodyguard.

Or else she doesknow, and is having a wickedly delightful time teasing him by feigningignorance.

Uthvir can appreciate that approach. They might haveattempted it themselves, but as they can still hear Thenvunin huffing, theythink they still agree with their own. This time, anyway.

“I am going into my tent!” Thenvunin loudly declares, aftera moment. “I have no desire to watch you all disembowel that thing!”

“Take my pack,” Uthvir advises. “There’s lotion in there.”

The protest Thenvunin makes at that is loud enough to scare off nearby birds. He makes a verypointed display of not taking Uthvir’spack, though, they note, he is sure to carry his own with him. Probably hebrought his personal supply along. Well, that’s alright, then. He’ll smell likeflowers when they go and seek him out later.

For a few awkward moments, Venavismi watches as they cutopen the wyvern’s belly, then.

After a minute of staring rather fixedly at Ana, he venturescloser to them, instead.

“May I borrow your supplies?” he asks them, discreetly.

They raise an eyebrow, but just nod towards their travelbag.

“Be my guest.”

He nods at them, and then clears his throat, and whiskstheir bad away with him to his own tent. Ana frowns at him a little as he goes,and then looks down at their handiwork.

“I didn’t think Vena was squeamish…” she muses, quietly.

Uthvir grins.

“He’s not,” they say. “He is, in fact, hopelessly aroused byyour hunting prowess. He probably left to go and take care of it.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in.

When they do, Ana blushes so vibrantly that her frecklesturn dark, and does a little awkward shifting around of her own.

“This is fun,” Uthvir decides. “We should do this moreoften.”

#filled prompt #companion vena #sharkbait companions au #lycheejellytea

[loyal-royal-panda]

A shy kiss Po and Tigress

@lightningwolfomega

Tigress made her way though the palace barracks. Everyone was away, and she and Po had pulled the short straws for watching the Jade Palace while master Shifu and the rest of the five played arbitrators and peace keepers for two feuding family’s over land disputes. And since Po was off trying to meditate at the Dragon Grotto, she was on her lonesome. So she decided to be a bit mischievous and peruse though her friends belonging.

Monkey’s room was spartan and a tad plain. She surmised it had to be his love of hiding his belongings out of sight were he could meditate, secure in their safety from prying eyes. Po was still having trouble finding his almond cookies after he moved their hiding spot for the third time.

Cranes room was filled with walls covered in his beautiful calligraphy. Words and symbols conveying perfect meaning and definition. He had tutored all of them at one point or other. Po was his newest project. His once sloppy but legible writing was now starting to rival Cranes own brush work.

Mantis’s room could be considered a full scale model of the training hall. And even more fit on the table in the center that contained his whole living space. Small scrolls on the basic physiology of all morphological builds of the species that lived across China. With four or five comparably large ones donated by the Pandas. Mantis was ecstatic to finally have scrolls that helped him on a pandas heath needs instead of drawing on, and potentially ruining, perfectly good scrolls just to accommodate one panda.

Vipers room was perfectly clean and filled with everything that had even a remote relation to her. Her dancing ribbons. Pictures of her family. Dry, but well preserved flowers from her mother. And a letter Po sent her asking about when Mei Mei was going to need his support for her performance for the valley. The reply in short said, no. Mei Mei was fine and just needed practice in rehearsal.

Finally she came upon Po’s room. Which could be described as a well organized mess. The wall lined with posters of Kung-fu masters present and past. More then a few of the Furious Five, obviously featuring her. In fact they made up the majority of the posters. And on his desk were his hand carved wooden figures. All of the five, save her, in a battle ready Kung-fu pose. Her figure was in a relaxed tai-chi pose. She suddenly found herself realizing the special treatment she was receiving from Po. He made no secret that she was his favorite in his days before knowing the five more personally.

Then their was the revelation that she was his first experience with Kung-fu, the day he saw her take down the villain Boar. She was his idol from day one. She was his first crush. So of course he would be awkward around her. If you just straight up told your hero upfront that they were the object of  your desire it would cause major problems. But Po handled it pretty well, dropping it on her sooner rather then later that he harbored feelings for her that, in his own words, “Id soon grow out of.” She had to wonder how much of it he actually grew out of. He always seemed…enthusiastic to be around her.

Well she had to have feeling about him too. Seeing that he had become something she had desired. The Dragon Warrior. And he was the only other animal her size in the whole valley. She had to guess that her being the same to him was a factor of his infatuation. They were both giants in a place filled with, and built for animals smaller then the two of them. She once believed that she was the largest living thing in the valley. Meeting Po changed that. He was taller, and wider.

Fine by her though. He was as soft as he was big. And Po loved hugs. She never realized how touch deprived she was before she learned to accept that Po was a very physical animal. Once again she had to realize that being as big as he was at a young age must have kept him from being able to play rough. She was lucky. Her adoption into the palace gave her a place to cut loose. Po? He must have lived his whole life being careful with his strength. It showed with his claws. He chewed them down into blunt stubs. Normal panda claws were as deadly as tigers. And non-retractable to boot.

Her eyes fell upon a book on his desk. She opened it. Inside were…admirably well drawn sketches of her, the five, Shifu, Mr Ping, the villains they faced, and himself. All of it well inked with flowing lines and curves and the dates in small symbols next to each doodle.. The style was simplistic, yet also carried weight. The dynamic poses. The addition of plants like reeds and bamboo shoots at their feet. All of it made the contents from cooking and dancing to relaxation and fighting stand out.

She flipped back to the pages of the book. She wanted to see what Po drew before he lived with them. The drawings were slightly more amateurish. But still well done for what must have been his growing skill. But she began to notice a running theme. Some of the painting were colored. Reds and whites and vertical black streaks dominated everyone of them. Like a snowy forest bathed in a sunset or fire.

And she saw it. In everyone of them. A great white smear, like a formless monster, dotted with red eyes. Accompanied by smaller shadows with similar red eyes.

On the days following his defeat of Tai-Lung and his moving into the Jade Palace. When Po began sleeping in the barracks after moving, she often noticed at some nights he would wake up suddenly, get up to sketch, then eat. Not the hungry eating that she saw everyday. The upset eating every time Po felt distressed.

She then heard the wood floor creaking under the weight of a three hundred pound bear.

“You know if you wanted to look you just had to ask.” Po said. His unoffended expression said he was just a bit annoyed with her breaking into his privacy. And more then greatly amused that she could even be doing what she was doing.

She was once again hit by how much older they had become after their last great victory. Her fur on her cheeks were just a bit droopy and longer. It had been a while since Viper took her out for “Girl time.” And the white fur of Po’s chin was starting to sport the beginnings of a longer beard. So he must have neglected or ignored his grooming rituals.

Tigress spoke. “So, Dragon Warrior, how did you know about my…snooping.” Po walked over next to her. “Oh it’s just my super awesome Enlightened superpower of knowing when someone is in my room messing with my stuff.”

Tigress wore a puzzled but equally amused expression. “Also, Zeng saw you and told me after my meditation. That little snitch needs a hobby.” Tigress chuffed a laugh. “You are the grand master of the palace. Should you not be informed of what happens in your Dominion?” Po smiled broadened. “If it means I get to catch snooping tigers then I guess so.”

He looked past her to the open page of his sketchbook. “Oh look at that! You found my little collection of bad dreams!” Now was the time to ask. “How long had you’ve had dreams about him?” Po’s expression grew somber. “Since I was a little cub. I couldn’t understand any of it. My dad never let me sleep alone until I got myself under control. Its kinda hard to be a kid if your dreading going to sleep.” He sighed “I don’t think ill ever be OK with what happened that night.”

She halted. “What about your inner peace?” Po smiled. She had just walked herself into another moment of Po being unexpectedly profound. “Inner peace isn’t a lifetime deal Ti. You have to constantly reevaluate yourself, your state of mind. Becoming enlightened or having an epiphany doesn’t mean all your inner strife is magically solved. It means that you understand why you are the way you are.”

Tigress absorbed her master’s wisdom. Digesting every word. “Your right Po. It is strange to hear you becoming the next Oogway.” Po laughed. “Well at least I’m not becoming Shifu. I don’t think I can act like I’m constantly about to kick someone down the stairs.” She blew a stifled laugh through her nose. “There is only room for one Shifu. And a second might tear a hole in space and time.”

Po smiled and sighed “You know it’s you saying stuff like that that makes it hard to get over my crush for you.”

Tigress considered her thoughts. “Well Po…you becoming wiser and more mature has…showed me how I might find someone like…you…worthy of my attention.” Po was paused. And then he was unpaused. “Are you saying that you consider me, attractive?”

“In small doses.” He smiled a smile that became dangerously coquettish. “What about me do you find attractive?”

“your heart mostly. You know how to speak to people. Even if they wont listen. In body, id say your belly. Its your best feature.”

“No kidding that’s what pandas love best!” He looked her directly in the eyes. “But you still have reservations…on me as a partner.”

“I’m not looking for a relationship Po. But I can…attempt to…sample what its like. But even if it fails. We’ll still be friend?”

“Yeah Ti. We’ll always be friends.”

She moved over towards him, slowly. She had never done this before and was more than a little nervous. And gave him a kiss on his cheek.

The smile plastered on his face spoke volumes  “So just to be sure, you’re not just looking to be the one who deflowered the Dragon warrior right?”

“Don’t make it weird.”

#tigress #po x tigress #po #kung fu panda #fan art #kfp fanfic #kfp tipo #lord shen