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#they both look sort of pale here but it's better irl
luna-and-mars · 5 years
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finally finished!! took me ages because it’s the first time I’ve embroidered anything nearly this precise, and because I ran out of black halfway through. based on that season 6 promo!
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itstimetotheorize · 3 years
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little nightmares 2, would the world have been saved if the Black Tower fell?
A couple of weeks after the games release, David Mevrik, the lead narrative designer, sat down in an interview and answered some much needed questions about the little nightmares 2 game. Naturally, in an effort to maintain the mystery of the world, David proceeds to take every question that is thrown at him and gives a bizarre and cryptic answer in return. The only thing that he does confirm directly is the fact that little nightmares 2 take place before little nightmares 1, meaning that little nightmares 2 IS a prequel!
(link to interview)
https://www.gamingbible.co.uk/features/games-little-nightmares-2-ending-explained-writer-confirms-prequel-20210311
Although this one answer helped fans alleviate some major confusion, it still does not give us the answers needed to determine what exactly is going on in the little nightmares world. As the interview ends, David leaves us with his cryptic answers knowing fully well that we will do everything we can to try and decipher them in order to theorize for ourselves what is actually happening in this world of little nightmares. Now, out of al the things he was asked, one question in particular had constantly left my mind wondering and asking, “what did he mean by that?”
The question I am referring to is,  “ Who built the Signal Tower, and what was the inspiration behind it (both in terms of in-game lore and your IRL inspirations)?”
to which David replies, “The world of Little Nightmares doesn't work that way, creatures and places exist for a reason. In the first game, The Maw exists because the hunger exists, and here, The Signal Tower exists because the need for escapism exists. Sure, in the game it beams out The Transmission to everyone's TVs, but it would be trite and wrong to say that it's only about the ubiquity of screens. It's inspired by this idea of the spectacle; this thing that delights you in order to destroy you, that corrupts the way you see the world and blinds you to the true monsters. We have centuries of inspiration for something so foul, you just need a good pair of sunglasses.”
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Out of all the details that can be taken from his cryptic answer, there was always one piece that had constantly stood out to me, “ The Maw exists because the hunger exists, and here, The Signal Tower exists because the need for escapism exists. Sure, in the game it beams out The Transmission to everyone's TVs, but it would be trite and wrong to say that it's only about the ubiquity of screens”
Out of all the words displayed within these sentences, David specifically chose “Trite” and “Ubiquity” in his response. Before, many of use were certain that we understood exactly what he meant, but did we really? when you look up the definition of these two words you would come to find that they mean so much more:
Trite- overused and consequently of little import; lacking originality or freshness.
Ubiquity- the fact of appearing everywhere or of being very common.
what does this mean exactly? it means that David might have been trying to tell us that just because the tower sends out its transmission to the world, it would be boring and unoriginal to believe that the world is the way it is just because there are a ton of tvs  broadcasting a single transmission. So then, if it truly isnt just about the tower and the tvs then what else could there be...or rather...what else is happening in the world that we don't yet know about?...what even is this world?!...perhaps... we have already been given that answer.
In the school, when mono is trying to solve the chess puzzle, there is something within the room that many of us, at the time, had overlooked and taken for granted. This particular item was something so common that we didn't even think about just how important it truly was within the little nightmares games and its world!, what exactly is this item that I am referring to?...its a region map...of the little nightmares world!
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for those who do not know, world maps are often divided up into smaller pieces  to better organize them. The map seen within the school, reveals to us, a piece of the worlds geography! 
For the longest time, many of us had wondered what else was beyond the maw, sure we have seen the nest and the pale city, but this map is the first solid piece of evidence we have come across that tells us just how large the world of little nightmares is. What’s even more interesting is that this map, does not have the signal tower or the thin man drawn over it to symbolize their control/influence over the world!, what does it have drawn over every inch of it?... the all seeing eye!
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For years we had suspected that an entity of higher power was present in the little nightmares games and for the longest time many of us had believed that the eyes, which were referenced all over the world, were a hint towards that higher entity. In another interview question, David is even asked, “A lot of fans believe that someone, some unseen threat, has been pulling the strings in the world Little Nightmares. Is this the case... and might we meet them one day?”
To which David replies, “That depends if I'm ever allowed to go out in public again.”
When David answers the question, he talks as if he were in a position where he lacks the free will to make his own simple choices, that he needs the permission of another presence that’s currently watching over him... just who or what is this other presence? well... isn't it obvious...its the eyes! 
Near the end of little nightmares 2, after mono frees six from her monstrous form, fans finally get the chance to meet the entity responsible for all the suffering faced by not just mono and six, but the entire world! As the tower begins to crumble, it reveals to us its true form, a gigantic fleshy mass comprised of giant eyes!
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Whats even more surprising is that this giant eye entity may not just be located in the black tower. In Little nightmares 1, as well as the LN1 DLC, we see pictures of a similar eye within a structure/building!. 
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However unlike the eye entity within the black tower, the eye seen in portraits on the maw appears to be located within some sort of light house...which ironically enough, if you look up the concept art of the maw, you would come to find that the maw had a lighthouse located atop the small island it carries! 
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And I know what you are thinking, “but wait this is concept art, it didn't even make it into the final game”, yes, but the fact that this specific art is still seen REPEATEDLY throughout the maw in little nightmares 1 as well as the DLC, could possibly hint that this eye bearing lighthouse might still exist,  somewhere within the maw! What does this mean exactly? it means that even the maw, a large cruise ship that travels all throughout the oceans of the world, bears within it a large entity similar to the eye entity within the black tower of the pale city! What’s even more insane is that these two very distinct eyes, from two very distinct places, could very well be just two small pieces of a much larger mass watching over the entire world as it feeds upon its residents in one way or another! To be fair, we still dont know what exactly this thing is, let alone how it came to be in the world, but what we do know is that the residents of the world are obsessed with it!
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David has always said that the maw exists because hunger exists and that the tower exists because escapism exists, but if each place existed from one corrupt human desire then I wonder... are there other structures like them in the world?, and do these other structures revolve around an entirely different existing human need that has been corrupted by the eye entities hypnotic light/spell ?...maybe...
Then again...this does beg the question... If the maw sank and if the tower was left to fall, would we have truly ended the nightmarish world that mono and six resided in or would we have simply ended two very small parts of a much larger nightmare occurring in the world? If the eye is truly responsible for all the suffering seen throughout the childrens lives, then what would the children of this world even do to fight the nightmare that they are trapped in ? would they continue to run and hide, hoping that it is enough to help them survive until adult hood?.... or would they need to accept the reality of this world... take the power that’s there...learn to make it their own and become themselves... little nightmares...
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  honestly... whos to say.. should these children choose to make these heart wrenching decisions, would they still be viewed by the all seeing eye as victims?... or would they be seen as threats that need to be stopped before they have the chance to cripple the power it has used to feed upon the world it has latched itself onto....... I guess we will just have to wait and see... but hey, that’s just a theory, a little nightmares theory!
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writingwithcolor · 4 years
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Mixing North America with Old World Cultures in Fantasy: What Are The Issues?
So I sent in an ask several years ago that, due in no small part to your response, I have grown from and eventually led to a complete restructuring of my story. I included a measure of context in this, so if you need to skip it, my main three questions are at the bottom. I think this mostly applies to Mod Lesya.
The new setting is both inspired by and based on North America in the late 1400s where the indigenous cultures thrive and are major powers on the continent. Since there is no “Europe” in this setting the colonization and plague events never happened. Within the continent itself (since it is a fantasy setting) there are also analogous cultures that resemble Norse, Central European, Persian, Arabic, Indian, and Bengali. Although not native to the fantasy continent, there is also a high population of ‘African’ and ‘Oceanic’ peoples of many cultures, the latter usually limited to coastal cities as traders and sailors. Elves are entirely not-human, or at least evolved parallel to humans ala Neanderthals/Denisovans; they have green blood, black sclera, and skin tones that run from pale to dark. 
The main national setting of the story takes great inspiration from a Byzantine/Turkish/Mississippian background, and the neighboring nations are based on the Haudenosee (Iriquois Confederacy), Numunuu (Comancheria), and the Hopi and Zuni (as the descendants of the Ancestral Puebloans) (I also know that 2 of these 3 occur much later than the 1400s, but I love the government systems and they provide excellent narrative foils for the more ‘traditional’ fantasy government that takes place in the story). The Maya inhabit the role analogous to Ancient Greece in that most writing systems on the continent descend from Maya script and all the Great Philosophers were Maya (and nobility from across the continent spend lots of money to send their children to schools in the Maya City-States or in the Triple Alliance (Aztec Empire)). There is magic with varying traditions, practices, and methods spread across the continent, some of which are kept secret from outsiders, so I would hope that this avoids the “Magical Native” trope. 
Beyond the setting, I have three main questions:
When it comes to foodstuffs, I was originally planning to limit myself to Pre-Columbian cuisine from the Americas (eg the Three Sisters and potatoes) but in doing my research, Navajo fry-bread seems to be a fairly integral part of the food culture and that does require flour, which originated in the Old World. Would it be better to incorporate some of the Old World stuff that has since become traditional to indigenous groups?
For place names used in the setting and writing systems would it be better to use existing languages or writing systems or ones inspired by them? EG should I make a language that is very similar to Cherokee, complete with its own syllabary, or should I use IRL Cherokee and its extant syllabary? I ask because I feel like using the real language might step on some toes, but using the conlang might seem like erasure.
One of the main themes of this story is the harm that even a ‘benevolent’ Empire can wreak on people. The Byzantine/Turkish/Mississippian culture is the main Empire on the continent, taking cues from both western and American monarchical systems (eg the Triple Alliance (Aztec) and The Four Regions (the Inca Empire)), but when I think about it having any kind of even vaguely western ‘Empire’ spring up from the soil of a North American inspired setting might be troubling.
Thank you for your time and consideration! Do you guys have a kofi or something so I can compensate you for time spent?
I actually do remember you, and I am going to 99% disregard your questions here because you went from glaringly obvious racism to covert racism, and none of your questions ask if your basic strings of logic for assumptions you built into the setting are okay. 
Since there is some extremely flawed basic logic in here, I’m going to tackle that first.
Question 1: Why did you originally title this “Pre Colombian North American Fantasy World” when you have more old world cultures than new world cultures?
A very simple, straightforward question. The actual content of the setting is what made me retitle it.
If you want to write a North American fantasy setting… why are there so many old world cultures represented here? 
Old world: - Greece (as a societal myth; see next point) - Byzantine - Turkey - Norse - Central European - Persian - Arabic - Indian - Bengali - African (which, let’s be honest, should be heavily broken up into multiple peoples) - Oceana (which, again, should be heavily broken up into multiple peoples)
New world: - Mississippian - Iroquois  - Numunuu - Hopi - Zuni - Maya - Aztec - Inca (maybe? not mentioned as having their own place on the continent, but one of your questions mentions them) - Navajo (maybe? See above)
To account for respecting Africa and Oceana, I’m going to make African cultures count as 3 and Oceanic cultures count as 5, and this is a purposeful lowball.
Old World: 17 New World: 9
It’s a giant discrepancy, especially if your attempt is writing an exclusively New World fantasy. And this is bare minimum old world, considering the fact I tried to limit myself to peoples who would be more likely to interact with the heavy Mediterranean/Alexander the Great’s Empire centricity. 
Question 2: Why does there have to be a Greece analogue?
I haven’t spoken about this topic at length on this blog, but Greek worship in the Western world is a very carefully crafted white supremacy based mythos that was created to prop up European “Excellence” and actually erases the reality of Greece as a peoples.
Cultural evolutionism is a theory that states the (assumed-white-European) Greeks were superior because of their philosophy, their abstract art, and their mathematics. When many of these concepts were refined in Egypt (African, aka Black), or the Arab world (aka brown), but white Europeans did not want to admit any of this so they instead painted everything as coming out of their ideas of Greece lock stock and barrel. 
The theory also ignored Iroquois science, Plains and Southwestern abstract art, and generally everything about North America, because the theory was designed to move the goalposts and paint North America as something it wasn’t, just to make Europeans feel okay taking it over and “bringing it to civilization.”
This theory was still taught in force up until the 1970s, and is still a major school of anthropological thought to this day (and still taught in some universities), so it is still very much influencing the Western world.
While the theory itself is only from the 1800s, it had long-growing roots in white/ noble Europe’s attempt to prop up European “Excellence” during its multiple periods of colonization, from the Crusades, onwards. You can see it in the copious amount of art produced during the Renaissance.
Europeans ignored the sheer amount of settling and travel that happened within Greece and Rome, and you’ll notice how many Renaissance paintings depict Greek philosophers as white, teaching other white people. In reality, we have no idea what their skin tone was, and they could have taught a huge variety of different skin tones. But it was appealing to European nobility to have people like them be the founders of all things great and “advanced”, so they invested huge amounts of time and money in creating this myth.
(Note: I said their nobility, not their population. People of colour existed en masse in Europe, but the nobility has been downplaying that for an exceptionally long time)
Greece took over most of the old world. It borrowed and stole from hundreds of cultures, brought it all back, and was assigned credit for it. White Europeans didn’t want to admit that the concept of 0 came from the Arabs, the pythagorean theorem came from Egypt, etc, and since Greece won, detailed records of how they were perceived and what they stole are long lost. It’s only glaring when they took from other global powers.
Question 3: Why would you pick totally different biomes to mix in here?
Turkey and the Mississippi are very, very different places when it comes to what can grow and what sort of housing is required, which makes them on the difficult side to merge together. They relied on different methods of trade, as well (boats vs roads), and generally just don’t line up.
The fact you pick such a specific European powerhouse—the Byzantine Empire—to mix into your “not European” fantasy world is… coming back to my above point about Greek (and Roman) worship in the West. Why can’t a fantasy world set in North America be enough on its own? Why does it need Europe copycats?
Question 4: Why are you missing a variety of nomads and Plains peoples?
Nomadic plains peoples were a thing across the globe, from the Cree to the Blackfoot to the Mongols. You have hyperfocused on settled peoples (with only one nomadic group named in both new and old world), which… comes across as very odd to me, because it is, again, very European sounding. That continent was about the only one without major populations that were nomadic, and if you look at European history, nomadic peoples were very highly demonized because of the aforementioned Mongols. 
Cultural evolutionism also absolutely hated nomadic peoples, which is where we get the term “savage” (hunter-gatherers, nomads) and “barbarian” (horticulturalists and pastoralists, the latter nomadic); these were “lesser cultures” that needed to settle down and be brought to “civilization” (European agriculture), and nothing good could ever come out of them.
Meanwhile, in North America, nomadic peoples took up a very large portion of landmass, produced a huge amount of culture and cultural diffusion, and mostly ignoring them while trying to create a “fantasy North America” is, well, like I said: odd. 
General Discussion Points
My suggestion for you is to write a fantasy Mediterranean region. Completely serious, here.
With the kinds of dynamics you are attracted to—the empires, the continental powers, the fact you keep trying to make Europe analogues in North America—you will do a much, much more respectful job by going into a really richly researched Mediterranean fantasy world than attempting to mix Europe and North America together in ways that show European traits (settled peoples, agriculture, a single empire dominating the whole culture and being viewed as superior) as the default.
I legitimately cannot see anything in here that feels like it comes from North America, or at the very least, treats non-sensationalized peoples (aka, those outside the Maya and Mississippian region) with respect. 
It falls into Maya worship, which is a very sensationalized topic and is fuelled by racist fascination, assuming no Indigenous peoples could be that smart. 
It falls into settled peoples worship, which is something that has cultural evolutionism roots because under such a model only settled peoples with agriculture are “civilized.”
It falls into placing Western concepts (public schools, large cities, the ilk) as the ideal, better solution, compared to methods better suited to horticulturalists, pastoralists, and hunter-gatherers and letting those teaching methods be respected.
There is no shame in writing inside Europe
The Mediterranean region contains Indigenous peoples, contains a huge diversity of skin tones, contains empires, contains democracy/a variety of governments, and in general contains every aspect of what you’re trying to create without playing god with a continent that did not evolve the way you’re trying to make it. 
A Mediterranean fantasy world would still be a departure from “fantasy world 35″ as I like to call it, because it would be different from the vaguely Germanic/ French/ Norse fantasy worlds that are Tolkien ripoffs. You can dig beyond the whitewashed historical revisions and write something that actually reflects the region, and get all the fun conflicts you want.
You don’t need to go creating a European/North American blend to “be diverse.” You can perfectly respectfully write inside Europe and have as much variety in peoples as you can write in a non-European setting. Europe is not the antithesis to diversity.
North America developed a certain way for a reason. It had the required fauna, space, resources, and climate to produce what it created. The old world developed a certain way for its own reasons, based off its own factors in the same categories.
You’re not really going to get them to blend very easily, and if you did, the fact there is such a strong European way-of-life preference (by picking places that mirror European society on the surface) makes me raise an eyebrow. It’s subtle, but very much there, and the fact you are ignorant to it shows me you still need to do more work before you go writing North American Indigenous Peoples.
Writing in Europe isn’t the problem, here. Writing a whitewashed, mythologized, everyone-not-white-is-a-caricature, ahistorical “Europe” is the problem. And you cannot fix this problem by simply painting European ways of life a different skin tone when the setting isn’t European. In fact, you’re perpetuating harm by doing that, because you are recreating the cultural evolutionism that calls anything you can find in Europe “better.” Indigenous cultures were vastly different from Europe, even if they shared similar trappings. 
Let North America exist without trying to shoehorn its most famous peoples into European analogues.
~ Mod Lesya
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xoxo-ren-xoxo · 3 years
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Unpopular Opinion /lh /rp
Talking about dSMP character’s heights and sort of their body types? Not in a weird way just in a ‘how I imagine them’ way. Loosely based off of their irl heights, but some of them I don’t know, so it’s mostly guesswork and vibes. Also if you disagree you’re wrong. (Just kidding leave your ideas in the tags/replies)
Obviously this is all roleplay/character stuff. None of it is intended to be weird or to reflect on the irl people! I’m just having fun with headcanons :)
Tommy is 6′3 and very very lanky. This child is not short. Stop drawing him short. He’s taller than Techno. He’s not as tall as Wilbur, but he’s tall. He towers over most people. Emphasis on most because everyone is so tall on this server what the hell? 
Anyway I think the mental image of this super tall kid actively trying to make himself look shorter/smaller is heartbreaking. Like imagine him curled up into a corner trying to make himself as unnoticable as possible in Logsted. Imagine him slouching when living with Techno to try to make himself seem like less of a ‘problem’. Imagine Dream telling him that he’s a ‘big strong man’ and that he shouldn’t need help, he can defend himself, so when he goes back to Tubbo, he tries to make himself look *tiny* as a cry for help. He wants comfort.
But he’s also incedibly skinny. Back in L’manburg and Pogtopia, he developed some muscle from all the fighting. His shoulders broadened out and he looked slightly intimidating. But like most teenage boys, he was still lanky as hell. This only got worse when he was exiled to Logstedshire, with little food (and no drive to eat the food, or get up, or exersise) he became more malnourished and he just looked *small* despite being 6′3. This probably isn’t helped by the constant use of golden apples when he moves in with Techno, which give him energy and strength but no real nutritional value. Techno was just trying to get the kid to eat normally. When he finally stands at his full height, Techno is shocked that he didn’t notice all the slouching.
Anyway Techno is 6′2. He’s taller than a lot of people but not as tall as his brothers. He makes up for this with muscle and strength and a healthy body. Wow, the only healthy person on the server. Amazing. You love to see it. Good for him. He could win in a battle of raw strength against anyone else on the server. He’s quite broad, which makes him look bigger generally.
Wilbur is 6′5 and also he is a stick. Just. Straight up and down stick. Nothing there! He is just a pale sickly stick. This gets worse the further into the timeline you go. When claiming L’manburg and fighting in the war he starts to get insomnia, causing him to look like a corpse half the time. When in Pogtopia, he’s too busy to take care of himself properly, so he only looks worse and worse. His hair is a mess, his skin is far too pale, and he only eats enough to be able to hold his own in a short fight. There’s a reason he doesn’t wear armour or really try to fight at all. He’s subconciously self-destructive, then actively so when he blows the place to the ground. He’s always been too busy for self-care.
Ghostbur is a much more healthy, younger version of Wilbur. I would say he’s ‘water rising’ era Wilbur. The life returned to his body, in a morbid kind of way. He’s still tall but he prefers to make himself seem shorter just to be less threatening.
Phil is 5′11. He has an average build, with slight muscle from the years of playing in hardcore. He’s older, now, but he can still kick your ass. Also, he taught Techno how to fight smart, not hard. He doesn’t need to be super strong because he’s intelligent enough to outwit most people on the server. He has a wordly knowledge that others don’t possess. He also has wings, large and grey, clipped so he could get onto the server (there is a no flying rule after all).
Fundy is... 5′10, just a little shorter than Phil. His fox genes make him smaller, despite his father being 6′5. He’s got a healthy, svelte build. He’s sneaky and light on his feet. In the wars he built up some muscle, but it was quickly lost since he prefers to take a backseat to any fighting outside of those times (especially now) and he’s built for spying.
Schlatt is an interesting one because a lot of people are gonna fight me on this, but he’s not actually old. Everyone calls him old but honestly I think he’s younger than Wilbur (in canon, I feel like Wilbur is in his late 30s, early 40s, simply because). I think Schlatt’s around 35-ish, but he looks older due to his shitty health. People call him an old man either to demean him or because they see his actions and appearance and go ‘yeah, this guy is old’. Which is fair enough, because irl Schlatt and c!Schlatt both act like they’re from the 1950s.
This guy looks like shit by the end, but he looks alright at the start. Slicked-back hair, sharp ram horns, golden animalistic eyes. He’s intimidating. And loud. Then everything shifts, right towards the end. He’s frail and deteriorating throughout his short presidency, and by the end of it he’s practically a corpse, just like Wilbur.
He’s 6′3, with broad shoulders and a silhouette that seems strong not only because he carries himself as if he can fight, but also because of the percieved power that comes along with it. In reality, Schlatt is a poor fighter, and the abuse he ends up putting his body through (working out excessively to try to fight his condition, and turning to alcoholism as an escape) completely destroys him, making him probably one of the least healthy and weakest people on the server. It doesn’t really show until his death scene, since he’s covered up the deterioration since day one. Basically, mans is dead. 
Glatt, or Ghost Schlatt, or whatever you want to call him, would be a healthier Schlatt. Again, from the ‘water rising’ era. I headcanon him to have longer hair in that era. Not sure why.
Ranboo is the same height as tommy, but is more naturally lithe than made that way by lack of food. His enderman DNA can be blamed for that. He’s healthy most of the time, but may have spirals where he doesn’t take good care of himself (perhaps he forgets) and he looks pretty bad. If he goes a few days without keeping up his self-care routine, he looks a lot worse than he actually is. Sleep tends to be his biggest issue, his mind keeping him awake all night and leaving him looking like shit in the morning. Really, he’s just a kid with a troubled soul, and it shows sometimes. Most days, though, he looks very well put together.
Tubbo. He’s 5′6. He’s more childlike than Tommy, which only makes it worse when he acts in the way he does in season 2. He has burn scars across one side of his body, from his execution, and he is partially blind in one eye because of it. He takes very good care of himself, since he has to look good while being president if he wants those sweet sweet approval ratings. But when he’s super stressed, he will pull all-nighters and forget to eat. He’s got a lot of issues, but his body is very normal and healthy, all things considered. 
Quackity is 5′8. Which is really funny because that’s his actual height. He’s less sharp (?) than a lot of people on the server, but he has some muscle because he’s constantly training to ‘take down Technoblade’ (in reality, it’s a habit he picked up in Schlatt’s era, and never had the heart to drop). He tries his best to stay healthy (again, to better kill Techno) and he’s careful with his life, knowing that it’s his last.
Niki is 5′5. She’s also able to kick so much ass. That is all.
Dream is a bitch and therefore I will not be discussing him. Also he’s a blob or whatever so I guess height is irrelevant. Or maybe he’s a mysterious figure with a mask. Who knows.
No one else is important enough to talk about /j (but really I’m tired so I will stop here). Put your own thoughts in the comments, tags, and rbs. This was all in good fun, so don’t get mad haha.
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wielderofmysteries · 4 years
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Jace Beleren, Masculinity, and the Trans Experience
(This post is a Twitter thread I wrote in response to a Goblin Lore podcast episode called “Jace Beleren and Toxic Masculinity”.)
I feel I have a unique perspective on this topic as a trans man. Trans man Jace isn't my headcanon, but it's an interpretation I love. He's my favorite character of all time, and as a trans man, I feel like reading Jace's flaws as toxic masculinity isn't quite right.
There are several "pillars" of toxic masculinity that Jace doesn't have. He doesn't have the self-destructive emotional repression, worship of sex and violence, or desire to subjugate women and his peers that men who experience toxic masculinity have.
Even BEFORE Ixalan, Jace was an example of many positive masculine traits. He was curious and emotionally open. He wrongly believed he could make decisions for others, but he cared for people, wanted to protect them, and couldn't sit idly by when he knew people were in danger.
In Agents of Artifice, he financially provided for Kallist and Liliana, and in Magic Story invited the Gatewatch to live in his home. Jace wanted to heal Garruk, tried to stop his rampage and had a Hedron implanted in Garruk's shoulder to relieve the effects of the curse.
"I don't want to hurt you, Garruk."
"Lucky for me, I don't feel the same way."
"Garruk, this is not a fair fight. You've suffered enough. Please. Come with me."
[...]
Jace stood in thought. Garruk held him by the throat, could end his life in an eye blink, had already proven he was immune to Jace's illusions. Garruk laughed again. If Garruk was open to having friends, then Jace might have been a good one.
"You win," said Jace. "We will leave you alone. I will not seek you out. But please, if you change your mind, come find us on Ravnica. Something is still not right here. We can help you."
In "Revelation at the Eye" Jace tells Ugin that Zendikar isn't a puzzle to be solved, and that it didn't matter if killing the Eldrazi has consequences, there are real people on Zendikar fighting for their lives and he needs to help them.
"Zendikar isn't a puzzle to be solved," said Jace. "It's a place. It's somebody's home. And those people are out there, right now, fighting for their world and wondering if anybody's going to help them kill what's killing them."
He showed scenes of suffering, then—of families mourning the lost, of landscapes ravaged by Ulamog, of even the skies and seas teeming with the Eldrazi menace.
Ugin cocked his head. The hedron architecture of the chamber seemed to melt and flow, became a pattern of tessellating dragons mocking him from the walls.
"So certain," said Ugin, "and so young."
Ral Zarek tried to kill Jace and ruined his relationship with his close friend Emmara, but in "Project Lightning Bug", Jace forgives him. Jace is honest about his feelings with Ral even after Ral was openly rude to him.
"I don't remember home," Beleren said quietly, unbidden.
"What?"
"You talked about growing up in Ravnica. A lot of my memories from my childhood are gone. Chopped up in my head into a few impressions. Most of what I remember begins here, on Ravnica. I'll never have roots here the way you do, and I admit I'm off to other planes a lot. But I think of myself as Ravnican to the core, too."
In Kaladesh block he wanted Chandra to be able to confide in him, and didn't want to stay home when he heard she could be in trouble. He used his mind magic to help Nissa sleep when she had a sensory overload in the busy city.
Nissa looked up. Jace and Gideon were exchanging a look. Both glanced at her.
They stood as one.
Jace turned toward the coat room. "I'll head to Kaladesh. It should be easy for me to—"
Lavinia appeared in his path, one hand resting on the pommel her sword. "Again?" she said, in a weary, disappointed tone.
He frowned up at her. "You can't expect me to sit here and do paperwork!"
Across the streets, beyond the barricades, the Consulate's panharmonicons are still blaring "The Gremlin's Wedding March" at us on infinite repeat at double speed. They left them on all night, and after the moon set Nissa started crying, hands clamped over her ears.
[...]
Jace sat down with her. They talked a minute and his eyes flashed. She curled up in a big potted plant and didn't wake up until the sun fell on her.
But what does being a man mean to Jace Beleren? Well, take a look at his feelings towards Gideon. Jace saw Gideon as the male ideal. I think Jace admires (and is envious of) the way Gideon is a representation of positive masculinity.
Eyes widened, jaws set. They understood their task, he was certain of that. But were they actually prepared to perform it?
What would Gideon say?
Jace smiled. Of course.
"For Zendikar," he said, raising one fist in the air. It felt thin to him, lacking Gideon's armored fist, his baritone war cry, his iron conviction.
None of that mattered. The soldiers shouted as one voice, holding their weapons aloft.
"For Zendikar!"
Gideon is not violent or hypersexual. He's kind, not afraid to ask for help, a defender rather than an aggressor. The pillars of toxic masculinity are absent in both Jace and Gideon. So why does Gideon's mere presence make Jace insecure? I think that insecurity is dysphoria.
I'm only 5 feet tall. People treat me like a kid, think I need help, and certainly don't see me as a man because I'm very small. It feels bad knowing my looks don't inspire others or make them feel safe like big tall guys can.
Gideon is super tall, muscular, conventionally attractive. He's charismatic and a natural leader. Gideon's like a human lighthouse. Jace is average height, out-of-shape, often pale and sickly, and his telepathy makes people automatically distrust him.
It's easy to see why people follow Gideon's lead so easily rather than Jace's. As a trans man, I personally related to Jace's insecurity. He feels inadequate compared to Gideon.
"I'd rather stand," said Gideon.
Jace stood up. It was an error. He still had to crane his neck to look Gideon in the eye, and now the size difference between them was glaringly obvious. He hated feeling small. Hated it.
Jace wanting to lead the Gatewatch didn't come from a desire to dominate others and be an ~alpha male~, but from a desire for people to believe in him. What Jace really wants is to prove to himself and others that he's competent and that he can be trusted.
This vision appeared whenever the man was struggling at a task.
[...]
"Listen, you aren't really suited to this task. Let me handle it." The vision's voice was gruff but friendly.
It came off as condescending.
The man was annoyed.
"I can do it myself."
The hallucination sighed. "You and I both know you're not suited to this. Let me handle it, you go philosophize on the other end of the beach."
"I said I can do it myself." The man let his irritation reach his voice.
"No, you can't. I call the shots and execute, you stand to the side. That's how this works."
The man responded by throwing his hook at the hallucination. It went straight through the figure's eye and landed behind him on the sand.
The time he spends with Vraska is so good for him! I loved that [the podcasts hosts] talked about how he was finally happy to follow someone else's lead! He didn't need to be a leader, he needed someone to trust him. She respected and loved him and thought he was incredible for who he is.
Vraska looked him in the eye. "You're incredible. You know that, right?"
Jace returned her smile and felt his cheeks warming. "I do my best."
"Well, your best is incredible," Vraska said, turning toward the central tower and approaching a large gate on what appeared to be its back side.
Liliana never told Jace he was incredible.
Liliana would have scoffed. She would have made a dismissive joke, rolled her eyes, and called him a show-off. She would not bother to talk to him for days. She would consume the body of a demon with a crocodile's jaws and laugh over the sound of its flesh tearing off. She would do all sorts of things, but she would never call him incredible.
It was important for Jace to get that validation. Now he's not insecure about his appearance. It's not that he finally developed into someone who was caring. He was caring all along, but he was held back by insecurity about how others perceive him. He learned to love himself.
Despite all his good qualities and deeds he still felt insecure because it wasn't easy to visually see him as a "strong man". I think it's important to acknowledge positive masculinity even when the man in question isn't attractive or charismatic, and even if he makes mistakes.
As a trans person, Jace's experience reminded me of the struggle to "pass". It's frightening how easily insecurity can turn into toxic masculinity when you feel different from "real men". If you don't look the part, some people will just never acknowledge you.
Next to 'perfect' guys like Gideon, it's easy to see our own perceived weaknesses and shortcomings. Easy to feel resentment for it. But from this struggle comes the strive to be better men, to be confident in ourselves, and comfortable in our bodies.
There's SO much I wanted to talk about, like how Jace's trauma shaped his need for control, how the IRL gamer guys he was created to represent actually hate him, how he's a male victim of abuse by a female partner, etc but this thread is already terribly long.
TLDR; I think toxic masculinity as a reading of Jace is missing some perspective. The trans perspective. Not all insecurity men experience is toxic masculinity. Sorry I totally should have waited until part 2 was out, but I couldn't stop thinking about that episode.
There's a lack of trans men's voices in... basically everything, and this is something I think we should definitely be included in. I'm so grateful for the Vorthos community opening these kinds of discussions. Super excited for part 2 of the podcast!
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morningflames · 4 years
Text
a word of warning
well here’s a post i never thought i’d be making
it’s come to my attention that a Certain Someone is planning on making a comeback to WrA soon and it fills me with nothing short of dread. i spent the day yesterday warning people he terrorized and manipulated that this was happening. you know it’s bad when there’s a literal network of people who share an abuser that have remained in contact for years in the event this happened again.
i am not going to lie and say that making this post does not terrify me but i cannot in good conscience sit back and let him worm his way into the rp scene again and do what he did to me and at least half a dozen others all over again.
to summarize: tarcanus aka tarcanus frostborne is a manipulative, emotionally abusive and predatory individual that should be avoided at all costs.
i am the player behind lyrinel, a former officer of his and someone who was on the receiving end of nearly a years worth of abuse and manipulation. my experiences pale in comparison to those of others who dealt with him and came forward to me after i left his guild, and i cannot speak for anyone who does not feel comfortable coming forward. if you do want to let your voice be heard, feel free to reblog and add your own anecdotes.
my story below the cut.
tw: manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, coercion, grooming
i first joined coram populo in early 2014 after my best friend and fellow survivor (i will refer to her by her character’s name of thradia from here on out) joined the raid team in december of the previous year. we were both just looking for a social place to park our characters and maybe start role playing again, as we hadn’t had a guild or dedicated rp group in a while. things were fine and friendly for the first couple of months, though it’s worth noting that a large part of the office corps had just left or was in the process of leaving when thradia and i joined. we were both 18 at the time.
i made the mistake of reaching out to tarc in the spring, when i noticed him posting to his tumblr about how busy he was. i offered to be an IC assistant of sorts to his character and he was more than happy to toss me into an absolute whirlwind. we still didn’t know much about each other, but in the span of a couple weeks we went from casual contact in guild chat to immensely long (sometimes between 10 and 12 hours) skype calls, constant DMing, and an almost uninterrupted stream of conversation. i was struggling to finish high school at this time (spoiler: i failed to graduate) and found myself suddenly caught in an all-consuming relationship with this man and his guild. from the moment i woke up to the moment i finally hung up and crawled into bed, my time was taken up by tarc and the guild and the game.
i was promoted to officer less than five months after joining the guild. this was overwhelming for a number of reasons, chief among them being the fact that i had never been an officer in a guild like this before and i was very quickly escalated to tarc’s “inner circle.” this was a circle that he evidently didn’t even include his most senior officers in, as he didn’t seem to communicate with them to the extent or abundance that he did with me - and later, when she was ALSO promoted to officer, thradia. 
within a few weeks i found myself at the center of dozens of micro-confrontations and venting from tarc about other members of the guild, raid team, and even fellow officers. every time, i would tell him he needed to take it to his co-gm and talk it through with her. she, like him, was a grown woman with a lot more experience and better people skills than me, a teenager barely out of high school, but tarc insisted on beating me over the head with his frustrations and then proceeding to guilt me and tell me i was a terrible friend when i didn’t agree with him or expressed i was uncomfortable being in the center of a vent session that i felt was unwarranted. 
tarc was never wrong. he did not apologize. the words “i’m sorry” did not exist in his vocabulary, and if they did, they were almost always followed up with the word “but.” constantly he would be sending multiple messages to me or thradia while we were running events and raids for the guild, ranting about a few particular members that he disliked at the time regardless of how we felt about said members. thradia and i would both be reduced to tears and/or anxiety attacks by his outbursts that all but demanded we take his side even if we didn’t. his feelings and circumstances were paramount. everyone else’s were just inconveniences. 
tarc was always the victim. no matter what was going on, no matter who had instigated whatever vein of conversation we were on that had gone awry, he had a way of making you feel like utter shit until you grovelled for his forgiveness, which he rarely gave. instead he would move on without giving any closure or allowing you to discuss your feelings at length. if you tried, you were the insensitive one who he couldn’t go to with his “unfiltered emotions,” which was the entire purpose of his inner circle to hear him say it. i was not allowed to just be his friend or just be an officer, i had to be both and neither at the same time, and it still was not the right course of action. nothing ever was.
tarc was openly manipulative and antagonistic, always citing it as an “inside joke” when called on it. i opened up to him once about my father’s alcoholism and how i was uncomfortable with alcohol culture and being around drunk people. regardless, he would constantly call while drunk (or maybe he was pretending to be to get a rise out of me, i honestly do not know what was genuine and what was put on with him) and make me stay on the call with him for hours. when he was (allegedly) diagnosed with an inability to process certain alcohols that could be life threatening, he continued to drink (or claimed he was drinking) dangerous amounts, which lead to me begging him to stop as i feared for his life. one of the worst anxiety attacks i have ever had was over him endangering his health and me believing i was going to see a friend die. he knew how much this upset me and he did not stop. he held me as a captive audience to his self destruction (or the playacting of it) and let me cry and beg and plead with him to take care of himself.
tarc loves to promote a clean, “family friendly” persona online. he will go on and on about the positive atmosphere his guild provides and how progress and accepting he and his “safe spaces” are. as soon as you are inducted to his inner circle, however, you learn otherwise. he will gladly engage in sexually charged conversation with you, even if you are ten years younger than him as thradia and i were. we were both legal adults, yes, but just barely. i can’t count the inappropriate remarks and jokes made about us, our friends, and even minors all in the spirit of joking “what if” conversation. he has a history of making young LGBT+ people uncomfortable, making their sexualities and identities about him and how he can relate to them. 
tarc was the most two-faced and divisive guild leader i’ve ever seen. he would rant to me mercilessly about wanting to kick one of the junior officers and raid team members in private while never saying a word to their face or bringing it up with the co-gm. he would start schisms between people, telling each what they wanted to hear and encouraging both parties not to confront each other about it, allowing the resentment and distrust to grow as he fanned the flames on both sides. he wanted people to stay in the guild and continue to basically work for him while also putting him above anyone else in their friend circles. he told straight up lies to thradia and i, claiming one of us had said things about the other that we never did, driving a wedge and distrust between us.
tarc treats his guild(s) like a business. he is entirely capitalist-minded even in an MMORPG that people play for fun, churning out “content” and keeping up appearances like a machine. he treats his officers and guild members like employees, not people. any time irl would demand attention away from the game, forcing someone to miss or cancel an event, he would subtly guilt them about it until they apologized, even if it was a dire situation or a family emergency. 
when tarc wanted to start a wow roleplaying podcast, he approached me about cohosting. he wanted a female voice, and since i was out of school and had no job lined up due to not graduating i was the perfect candidate. i came on to narrate and research the lore segment of the looking for roleplay podcast, which was little more than me paraphrasing a wowwiki article, but i was held to a “professional” standard. i had to have my research done by a certain day, my recording done in advance, etc. 
the podcast was a spot of contention for several reasons, one being the mysterious emails tarc would allegedly receive about it. the podcast had a shared email account that all three of us could access and look at, but tarc claimed that people sent emails directly to him since “everything’s under his email.” he would use these strawman emails as indirect criticism of turwinkle and i, reading them aloud or typing up what they supposedly said but NEVER producing a real screenshot or address to verify them. i’m convinced he only did this as a way to make turwinkle and i feel badly and work harder “for the listeners” to appease things tarc didn’t like about our segments. he also insinuated he got inappropriate emails about me specifically at this account but, again, i was never allowed to see them with my own eyes, just hear about them secondhand, which is why i believe they did not exist.
around this time, tarc began recording conversations without mine or thradias consent. he would start recording random sections of calls and taunt us, playing back out-of-context lines and joking that he would make “podcast commercials” out of them. they were often embarrassing, personal, or just wildly out of context lines that we didn’t want played to the public, and i heard only a fraction of what he possibly recorded of me. i have no idea what kind of material he has of me and thradia that was recorded without us knowing or consenting. it felt like blackmail. it still does.
i internalized all of this. i thought this was normal. i thought he was an excellent guild leader and a role model for leadership. i had begun to treat world of fucking warcraft like a goddamn job and i thought that was fine. my life revolved around coddling and entertaining him, socializing and promoting and recruiting for the guild, raiding, running pvp entirely on my own, keeping up IC connections and attending events, recording for the podcast, all of it. i ate, breathed, and slept wow and coram. it was insane. i had been talked into having no boundaries for myself and my time, and any time i tried to correct that and build a boundary i was attacked for it until i backed down. i have never felt worse about myself than i did while i was in this guild. i trusted no one. i was worn thin.
i finally had enough early 2015. at this point this man was trying to get me to come live with him hundreds of miles from my family so that i could attend a technical school in his area. i am still 18. he was 28. i had been trying to step down from my position as an officer, citing if i was going to be LIVING WITH HIM that it was going to give me an unfair bias in my standing in the guild. this set him all the way off. he was planning a trip to atlantic city for me, himself, and thradia, who i had a ticket to visit for my birthday. he was getting frantic because he had been pursuing thradia for months, and i was no longer cooperating. 
when i threw this wrench in everything, our relationship devolved in the span of a few hours. within the day i left the guild on all of my characters and pulled myself out of all of his projects. within the month i had frantically faction changed several characters and eventually unsubscribed from the game for two years because i lived in fear of him. he had always alluded to “knowing people” who could hack and track IP addresses and kept tabs on everyone who visited his blogs and websites. i didn’t know what i thought he was going to do - all i knew was his thinly veiled brags and threats were at the forefront of my mind. i have played this game since 2006, but for the first time in my life i couldn’t enjoy it out of fear and exhaustion caused by him. he had ruined my favorite game in less than a year and made me paranoid about my entire online presence, to the point where this blog was abandoned for months before i turned it into what it is today. 
and the thing is, tarc’s not a creepy or abrasive guy when you first meet him. he’s funny and charismatic and outgoing. he loves to tell you about his world travels and show you pictures of him petting baby tigers at rescues in southeast asia and go on about these crazy winnings he would have in vegas. he’s larger than life - at least online. he came to visit me twice in the year that we knew each other. the first time was also the first time i had ever met thradia in person, and we had been friends for six years at that point. he has met my family, and that of several other members (both my age and older). no one ever questions why he’s there. no one ever thought it was odd that for a week he hung out with three teenage girls exclusively. 
this horrifies me to this day. 
thradia and i are still best friends. we compared notes and were sickened at how we were played against each other. slowly, i returned to the game. i reached out to people who had left or been on their way out when i first joined the guild, curious to see if there was a common thread. there was. everyone i spoke with had similar stories: being made to feel like shit, nothing they ever did for the guild was enough, they weren’t allowed to miss events or raids no matter what the reason, they were questioned and joked about inappropriately and made to feel uncomfortable and preyed upon, etc. i was not the only one. thradia was not the only one. at least half a dozen other former members and/or officers had these stories, and tarc just kept getting away with it.
he cannot keep getting away with it.
i am being open with this for the first time in six years because i don’t want to see it happen again. because i don’t want to know that, had i said something sooner, more people could have been protected. i was 18 when this was going on. i had no real world experience. i had no standard for how i should be treated, much less by someone almost ten years my senior and who claimed to be my friend. but he knew better. he should have had boundaries and space and lines he refused to cross. he did not. he crippled my trust in people for a very long time. i have only become comfortable playing wow on horde side again in the past year or so. i finally stopped looking over my shoulder, /who’ing him and his guild, avoiding rp hubs. but now i feel like i can’t do that anymore. the safety i have worked so hard to achieve for myself is now threatened.
i understand my experiences are mild in comparison to what some offenders on this server have done. but at the end of the day, this year was the worst year of my life. to this day, the skype ringtone literally triggers me because i associated it with him and his endless calls that i never knew what to expect from or how to get out of. i can’t look at certain parts of the game without feeling fear. for months i held my breath going online or logging into wow because i was waiting for him to pop up and start accusing me of things or trying to guilt me into coming back.
tarc ran coram populo, a guild that, as far as i know, still staggers along with a few members who can’t be bothered to leave. whether or not he’s planning to return there, i don’t know. he organizes and runs (from what i can tell) the azerothian trade federation (whatever the fuck that is). i don’t know what his plans are. i don’t know what his online presence looks or will look like when he comes crawling back. but i beseech you, do not give him the time of day. do not give him a platform, no matter how nice and “woke” he makes himself out to be. he lures you in with humanist ideals and then sucks the absolute life out of you- and that’s if he doesn’t want to pressure you into a relationship on top of it.
to tarc: if somehow you’re reading this, stay away from me. keep my name out of your mouth. i do not want an apology and a string of half-assed, gaslighting excuses. i have records of past conversations. i have screenshots. i know what you fucking did to me and to my friends. i do not want you back. i do not want you here. i do not want to share space with you. i want you to go away and never come back. 
you alone made it so hard to trust myself and other people. thradia and i both have had to seek therapy due to you. and now, you have the audacity to come riding back into the scene on a white horse, being self righteous about abuse and predatory behavior online, and have the utter gall to condemn behaviors you yourself emulated without apology or second thought. i know you think you’re a good guy. that’s what makes you so fucking dangerous. you genuinely don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, and if you do, you’ve buried it and squirreled it away and have covered it up to the point where you can turn any accusation back on the claimant. 
do not attempt to contact me. do not try to threaten or appease me. go back where you were. i am finally at home again, and you will not take that from me. go. away.
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julieandthefandoms · 4 years
Text
Together
A Suzukka Royalty/Canon Divergence/Nothing really changes except for the fact that It is more modern, and Suki, Sokka, and Zuko have never met each other until this moment AU! It can also be found here on Ao3 :)
Reference: The time zones I used were based off of the IRL time difference between where Inuit live (Canada), and Japan. In addition, Bocchan Dongo is a popular Japanese dessert, so that's what Sokka, and Suki were eating in that one flashback of the kitchens. Both of these facts were found through brief google searches, so please correct me if I got anything wrong. Thank you!
Tagging @sukisbxtch @thomaslightwood @emiikas @zafirafoxx @older-brother-kit @ronan-lynch-deserves-the-world @sterllast @potter-redheads (I didn’t know whether the people who simply liked this wanted to be tagged, so I tagged them anyway, and I’m sorry if you didn’t want that)!
Sokka had never expected to fall in love. He certainly did not expect to fall for someone during a business trip, nor did he expect it to happen as quickly as it did.
It had all started out perfectly normal, Sokka packing to stay at the Fire Nation Royal Palace for a few months to discuss the economic, and political affairs between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribe after nearly a century of war. He had become the Ambassador of the Water Tribe not too long ago at the ripe age of 19, and this meeting seemed like a good opportunity to gain hands on experience. It was, of course, but Sokka hadn’t expected to fall for the nation, never mind meeting two people who would bury themselves into his heart in that fateful trip. 
~*^*~
The day Sokka met Suki happened to be the day he’d arrived at the palace. He was shaking with nervous energy, though it was underlaid with an odd thrill at the sight of the extravagant palace, and the opportunity held before him. He was practically bouncing on his feet, swinging a suitcase containing important documents for the meeting the next day. His other belongings had been shipped to the palace prior to his arrival, a custom extended to all traveling business people. The day was new, and he was ready to fix the relations between the two nations. Unfortunately, Sokka seemed to have forgotten the shift in time zones, and, since the Fire Nation was 13 hours ahead of the Water Tribe, had arrived at 3 in the morning.
Sokka had approached the palace with a thrumming energy, an energy that could brighten almost every room. The streets, however, were empty, aside from Sokka. The soft flames of the street lights bathing the pavement and surrounding shrubbery in a warm, sunset orange. He grew more suspicious the closer he got to the palace, the eerie quiet of the place finally registering. Hot, dry winds rustled the leaves, the feeling of eyes on him made his back crawl. He chalked up the concern to the wind, bouncing animatedly towards the large wood door that greeted him.
The palace was lavish, lined with portraits of the past Fire Lords, each adorning colors of fire and gold and ash. Sokka once again noted the lack of people, though the portraits felt like they were watching his every move, anyway. 
It’s a bit odd that there aren’t any guards-
Fans flashed across his vision. A blur danced before him, spinning the fans in wide arcs, until they were caught in his torso. In an instant, Sokka was pinned on the floor, his back flat against the cold tile. A girl around his age, two fans placed at her hips, was on top of him, holding his arms, and feet to the ground.
“You’re awfully obvious for an assassin.”
She was fierce in her words, a tone of judgement laced within thinly veiled fury piercing through her voice. Sokka couldn't help but notice how personal that fury seemed, as though he had killed her baby sea turtle. The warrior’s tunic fluttered in the breeze brought in through the entrance Sokka hadn’t gotten the opportunity to close yet. Even though his life was probably in danger at the moment, he couldn’t help but feel mildly attracted to the girl who'd just kicked his ass. Yeah, his survival instincts may not have been the best.
Sokka shook himself out of his daze, finally registering the situation he was currently in. “Assassin? I’m not trying to assasinate anybody! The war is over, there is a Firelord who is not trying to cause mass genocide, things are great! No murder for me, thank you, I am only a humble representative of the Water Tribe-”
The warrior muffled him before he could finish his ramblings. Cautiously, she stood up, though she didn’t let go of Sokka’s arms, holding them behind his back.
“Alright, Firelord Zuko did tell us to expect the Ambassador of the Water Tribe to arrive soon, so I suppose I can let you go” she released his hands, a smirk lighting her face. “Besides, I doubt any assassin would be so bad at their job.”
“Hey,” Sokka raised a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’d be a great assassin!”
The warrior laughed, the pale beams of the moon brushing her features in a soft light, almost as if they were glowing. Her dark hair, a difficult color to see in the dimness of the palace, shone auburn from where sconces held precious flames. She composed herself before stretching out a hand.
“Suki, head guard of the Fire Lord Zuko.”
Sokka clasped the warrior’s -Suki’s- hand in his own.
“Sokka, Ambassador of the Water Tribe.”
~*^*~
It would have all been alright if it had stopped there, if he had only fallen for Suki. Unfortunately, life didn’t seem to work like that. In the beginning, it seemed to be going pretty well, Sokka and Suki talking to each other before and after every meeting, even sneaking to the kitchens after everyone but the guards had fallen asleep. They’d laugh together, and steal dessert from each other’s plates, simply enjoying one another’s presence.
“Okay, so, tell me more about your life on Kyoshi Island. I want to learn more about you badass warrior ways.”
“Alright, but only if you give me your Bocchan Dango.”
Sokka pouted. In his time at the Fire Nation Royal Palace, he’d gotten quite attached to the dessert, but complied nonetheless, because a. he wanted to know more about the Kyoshi Warriors, and b. there was more dessert in the freezer.
Sokka smiled at the memory. It had been so simple when he’d thought he’d only fell for Suki.
But, of course, things could never be that simple.
During the weeks in which he’d stayed at the palace, Sokka had not only grown close to the guard, but had also managed to become friends (acquaintances? He wasn’t completely sure what it was called, but they definitely had held enthusiastic conversations in the hall multiple times) with the Fire Lord himself. Zuko was a better Fire Lord than Sokka could have ever imagined, and he enjoyed his company as a friendly face in the palace. 
~*^*~
Sokka and Zuko’s budding friendship had begun during Sokka’s first meeting with the Fire Lord and the rest of the Council, the time passing in a discussion of rewriting the biased history, and attempting to establish plans in order to properly assist the nations affected due to the war. Sokka respected that about Zuko, the extent at which he was willing to go to right his wrongs, and he had left the meeting content with the plans discussed.
“So, I hear you attempted to assassinate me last night.”
A voice brought Sokka out of his thoughts, causing him to lift his head from its usual thinking pose (head turned down, and hand on his chin) to face Lord Zuko himself. It was a playful tone, the hint of a smile on his lips.
“I tried, but alas, your head guard is too good for my lowly assassin ways,”  Sokka sent back a smile of his own.
“Suki told me you were horrible at it, though I don’t think ambassadors are trained in that sort of thing, so I guess it’ll pass.” He paused for a moment, continuing once more. “Your policies in that meeting seem to be really promising; I’ll be looking forward to working with you in the future, Ambassador Sokka.”
“As will I, Fire Lord Zuko.”
Eventually, their conversations moved to a more friendly tone, the two exchanging topics on the policies they were passionate about exploring, though Sokka’s problem hadn’t started then either. No, no, no, no, no, they had started the moment Zuko had showed up one night on Suki and Sokka’s kitchen story time sessions.
The night fell as it usually did, the two rushing to the kitchens an hour later then they usually did (Sokka may or may not have overslept). Suki pushed open the wooden doors, revealing the familiar room. A shadowy figure jumped, as Suki raised her hands in alarm, setting her feet in a fighting stance. Sokka, unwilling to let her fight alone, grabbed the nearest object next to him- which turned out to be a fork- and brandished the utensil as though it were a mighty sword.
“Wait, guys, it’s me.”
The figure moved out of the shadows, revealing the face of the Fire Lord himself. Suki immediately relaxed, arms falling to her side, as she leaned against the table beside her, a light smile on her face. Sokka dropped his fork and shot him a smile as well.
Zuko returned their greetings with an awkward wave. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t sleep,” he gestured vaguely. “I can leave if you-”
“No please, join us. We’d love to keep you company.”
To Sokka’s surprise, Suki was the first to answer. He had always assumed that neither Zuko, nor Suki knew each other well enough to be comfortable with this, but the casualness in her tone said otherwise. Huh. That explained why she was so protective towards Zuko when they’d first met, much deeper than simply a protector-protectee type way.
The three sat at a table, exchanging stories about each other, more personal than it had ever been with just Zuko or just Suki. They fell into a steady rhythm of sorts under the light of the comforting fire. Sokka told tales of how he’d always felt inferior to his talented friend group. Suki detailed her life in Kyoshi Island, and the members she’d lost during battle. Zuko kept the topic vague though, telling them about his banished mother, cruel father, and his sister, but never specifying much of anything. They didn’t push him to either, Sokka and Suki, and instead waited for him to come to them on his own.
The three continued meeting for the next few months, all of them opening up a bit more with each day, until they all found strength in their nights together. It was on one of those nights that Sokka had noticed the fire from the hearth lighting Zuko’s hair a burgundy, only a shade darker than Suki’s, noticed the crinkle of his eyes when he smiled, noticed the-sPIRITS ABOVE, HE LIKED THE FIRE LORD.
~*^*~
Sokka spent the next week partially panicking, and partially planning how to disclose this to the closest companions he’d had in years.
He’d already known he had liked Suki for a while, loved her fiery protectiveness, but he hadn’t thought to think that he’d like Zuko’s steady flame as well. He’d once heard the phrase, ‘A house divided could not stand,’ but this was different than that. This wasn’t a house divided, it was a heart having enough love that it could love two without lessening it for either. And he was absolutely, completely in love with them both. They may have only known each other for five months, but he still could feel a hole in his heart when he thought of leaving them. Sokka had fallen fast, and hard, that much was certain.
The day of his departure came closer by the day, and he couldn’t put this off any further. Worst case scenario, Sokka has to change his name to Wang Fire, get plastic surgery (or grow a beard, one of those two), adopt a child, erase all records of said adoption, and move to the Earth Kingdoms (one couldn’t be the ambassador of their country without having amazing plans).
Needless to say, he really hoped he didn’t have to resort to his backup plan.
Sokka had sent the letters out that morning, telling the messenger boy-Lee- to not send them until after the weekly palace break in debriefings. And so he waited by the duck pond, watching the water swirl with every paddle to drown out his thoughts.
“Hey, Sokka,” Suki had her arm around Zuko, the two approaching the pond to join him. “What did you want to talk about?”
Sokka took a deep breath, before speaking again. The whole story came out, his friendship with Suki, and how it evolved to romantic feelings. How Zuko had become close to them as well, and the day in the kitchen when Sokka realized his feelings for him as well. How he loved them both, unwaveringly, even though they’d known each other for five months.
“-and I get if you hate me now because of this, so it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me any longer.”
Sokka had his eyes squeezed shut, preparing for the worst, but all he felt were two hands intertwining with his own.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’re not going to leave you for this.”
It was Suki, her reassuring voice causing him to open his eyes.
Zuko, who had gently placed a hand on his shoulder, spoke next.
“We’re not going to leave you, not ever.”
There was a pause, a sense of relief spreading through Sokka. They didn’t hate him! Well, that plan went way better than he thought it would. He should have known, they were both so compassionate, and understanding, it would’ve been hard to see them not let him down gently. 
Suki was the first to break the silence. “And for what it’s worth, I like you too. Both of you.”
Zuko gave a nod to them both before speaking as well. “I care about the two of you more than I thought I’d ever be able to care for a person.”
“So,” Sokka’s voice almost broke from emotion, “how are we supposed to do this?”
“I’m not sure,” Zuko said hesitantly, “but we’ll figure it out together.”
Suki reached over to grasp Zuko’s hand as well. “Together.”
And they sat there, enjoying each other’s presence, hand in hand. It was positively perfect… that is, until the ducks began getting annoyed over the lack of attention they were getting, and splashed the three of them as an act revenge.
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greenishbucket · 4 years
Text
good vibez only
Perhaps it’s not in like, the festive spirit or whatever, but Dex refuses to feel shame in reactivating and skimming through his array of dating apps the second his flight gets delayed.
nursey/dex, tindering in an airport au, 1.6k. For @ellienchanted! thanks for the help with this and happy new year :D on ao3
Perhaps it’s not in like, the festive spirit or whatever, but Dex refuses to feel shame in reactivating and skimming through his array of dating apps the second his flight back to New York gets delayed. What else is he going to do? Read a book? Talk to the people around him? Not likely.
And like, he’s just maybe been feeling slightly more desperately alone than usual, after the holiday period spent with family. His parents were his parents and even his shithead brother had been lovey-dovey with his admittedly very nice girlfriend, not to even mention the bloodbath that was social media.
It’s only midday on New Year’s Eve, but Dex can sense in his old-man bones that it’s already ramping back up again after a few days of quiet after Christmas. Picturesque, loving content as far as a guy can scroll, most likely.
Not that Dex is bitter. He has friends, has love in his life and shit. He’s on his way home to show his face at Ford's party, after all. Except the plan is to prove he didn’t die en route, get smashed as efficiently as possible, then probably get kissed platonically by six people at midnight because his friends are like that, before ultimately heading home alone and passing out alone.
Dex is, in short, just acutely fucking aware of his singleness right now.
In the heart sense and in the dick sense, unfortunately. Whatever. He’s got a few boring hours stretching ahead of him; even if he doesn’t match with or message any of the many dudes he can swipe through, at least a good twenty percent of them are hot enough to pause for a whole second.
One guy, after some fifteen minutes of mindless, semi-horny swiping, warrants more time than that.
He has a tattoo. It wraps around his very nice bicep and Dex’s mouth goes dry. His name is Derek, and he has a couple shirtless pics, a hockey one, a few ones Dex figures are trying to convey culture – museums and art and like, sweeping landscapes – and ends it with a meme.
Which is like. It’s kind of funny, and this dude is super hot, but really? But also he is so, so hot. In like, a hot way, and in a beautiful way, so Dex can at least entertain the idea of their boning. Then Dex reads Derek’s bio:
‘what i want is what i’ve always wanted. what i want is to be changed.’ im pretty and my meat is huge. good vibez only, no haters ✌️
Dex doesn’t smile a little. He doesn’t. He definitely just rolls his eyes hard and swipes left. That quote. He doesn’t have the patience, not even for someone that looks like that.
“Ouch,” says a voice from over his shoulder. “Hard no for that one?”
Because of course, because his flight is delayed and the drive to the airport had been shit anyway, because of course – it’s the dude. He’s not just nearby, he’s literally right there. Derek. Sitting in the row of seats backed up against Dex’s, twisted round to watch over Dex’s shoulder in a flagrant disregard of like, normal fucking behaviour, and somehow even hotter in the gross airport lighting. He’s doing some kind of smirk thing that Dex isn’t into at all.
His voice is like– It’s nice. Dude has a nice voice.
And of course, instinctively, result of being a grumpy fuck since birth and years in the big city, Dex’s immediate response is, “Fuck off, asshole.” Then, back up instinct, result of his mom’s loving care and years in a small town, he adds, “Shit, sorry, that was- I didn’t mean- um.”
Derek’s smirk solidifies. Something natural rather than an expression he’s holding there, not that Dex would’ve recognised it wasn’t completely assured and legit until then. “No worries, man. It’s chill. Sexy pic with the lobster, though.”
-
Nursey absolutely, completely, fucking two thousand percent should not have said anything. He’d almost be surprised at himself, watching this whole thing happen out of body, except this is the least surprising behaviour from him ever. Like he’s ever been able to let a minor hurt pass without poking at it until it’s something unbearable and he has to nope out like that’d been his plan all along.
Whatever. It’s chill. He’s got this. They’re in an airport, so Nursey can nope out whenever he likes, and more effectively than usual. It’s going to be fun.
“Excuse me?” says Will.
Will, who Nursey had first noticed for his massive ears and exhausted vibes, then absently clocked as attractive, and then clocked some minutes later as the same dude whose profile he’d just come across. Will who Nursey had just swiped right on, though not before screencapping his profile and sending it to Chowder, captioned ‘a straight???’
Like. Okay. Nursey doesn’t want to stereotype, or whatever, tries really hard not to, but when a dude sees a bio like I'm Will. I like hockey and lobster-fishing and good beer. We should get to know each other? He's not proud of it but questions start arising.
“Sexy pic with the lobster,” Nursey repeats. It had been, honestly, in a kind of weird display-of-masculinity way that Nursey doesn’t want to unpack right then but definitely would with some weed.
“Thank you?” says Will. A pause. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No,” Nursey replies honestly. But that feels like some kind of defeat, because this guy is cute and freckly and like, certainly has hands, but he also just dismissed Nursey’s careful construction of self while Nursey watched, so he continues, “I mean, I’m a vegetarian? So I kind of do disagree with the concept of trapping and killing an innocent animal for your own consumption, or whatever.”
Will snorts. “Of course.”
Nursey’s stomach sinks. He should’ve known. Pretty eyes or not, it wasn’t going to be fun with a guy who is a self-proclaimed hockey and good beer fan. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” says Will.
Nursey doesn’t want to get into a full-blown argument in the middle of an airport, so he lets it drop. But he also doesn’t want to sit here in awkward silence or have to get up and haul all his shit over to somewhere else. “So, while we're both sitting here, any pointers for improvement?” he asks instead.
“What?”
“For my profile, dude. Gotta up my game, clearly.”
"Why?"
"Self-improvement is my new year's resolution," Nursey replies easily, only half-lying; it's been his new year's resolution for like, five years straight, whatever. "I'll start: you need a better bio, or just scrap the whole thing. You're just about cute enough to pull it off, but it does you zero favours, dude. Bland as fuck."
Will goes pale, then red, then says, "What the fuck? Who asked?" Nursey waits, unsure if he should keep pushing or if he's maybe crossed a line, and after a long moment or two Will sighs. “Okay, fine, I hate doing description things and I'm shit at it. But yours also sucks. You could try with less of the pretentious quote shit, for one thing.”
“Less Mary Szybist?” Nursey asks, only having to up his aghastness a little. “Mine does not suck. I’m trying to convey an inner sensitivity, bro. Poetry is a window to the soul.”
Will frowns. “I thought that was eyes.”
His frown is cute. Shit. “First, a little thing called poetic license? Second, you said I was pretentious.”
“It’s Shakespeare,” Will says, unimpressed. “You didn’t do Shakespeare in high school?”
“Sure,” Nursey agrees, “but clearly it didn’t stick,” which is a lie. “Haiku, though. That’s the good shit.”
“What?”
“In my bio. It’s a haiku, five-seven-five syllables?”
Will visibly goes through Nursey’s bio, mouthing out the words, which, hey. It left an impression, at least. “That’s not five-seven-five,” he says.
“I’m pretty and my / meat is huge. Chill vibez only / no haters. Peace sign,” Nursey recites easily, clapping the syllables out like they taught in elementary school.
Will snorts out a laugh and can’t quite seem to reign his face back into looking unimpressed. Nursey smiles back and can’t quite reign that in either. The bitterness from watching Will swipe past him seeps almost entirely away at last, Nursey finally able to unfold his arm from around his stomach; Will’s shoulders come down from around his ears, too.
“Um. I did actually like your photos,” he says after a moment, almost hesitant, those same ears flaming. “Like, a lot."
"Ditto," says Nursey, as casual as he can. Will is pretty great in pics, if unfortunately blind to his angles, and even better plus assholeish irl, which is a beauty of a combination.
"But you’re cheating your syllables with that peace sign bit, pretty sure,” Will adds.
Nursey rolls his eyes, ignores the warm glow. Not a straight, definitely. And Will thinks his pics are good, at least, which is a success of sorts. He doesn't know what flight Will is getting, but his own back to NYC has been delayed by a few hours, so maybe he should try and shoot his shot one last time.
He chucks his stuff over to Will's side of the chair-row, then hauls himself over. Pulls his sweater back down. Fuck this twisting around in his seat nonsense.
Will blinks, face pink. "Hi," he says, a little hoarse.
“I think you mean bye. I said no haters, didn't I?”
Will laughs again, full and warm this time. “Fuck off, asshole,” he says, and this time Nursey laughs with him.
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this isn't even an imagine request but it can be if you want it to be; AU's where dadsona is actually a Fairy Godfather, and not a very good one at that; they resort more to actual fathering than magic most of the time, but one or more of the dads catches them in the act of something they just CAN'T explain away.
((I'm so love for magical au's. How could I not use this bad boy as a prompt?
Decided to give Brian the spotlight on this one, because there’s really not a lot of Brian content. Which is a damn shame! I didn’t enjoy Brian’s route as much as the other dads, because I felt like the competitive streak the route used for the dadsona was more mean-spirited than my own irl competitive streak, but I love Brian as a person! He’s so sweet and gentle and tbh I wish my dad was more like Brian. I have dad envy for Daisy. There. I said it.
A little late on the promised time, but in all fairness to me, I work a late shift at work tonight and had to sleep late so I don’t fall asleep on the production line.
I kind of borrowed the baby teeth thing from the movie Toothless, which I haven’t seen since I was ten or less but had a profound impact on my childhood. I am a grown ass woman, and I still have one of my baby teeth. There was just no adult tooth underneath it, so I have to take extra good care of it. So! If that’s a canon rule for toothfairies/magic, I have a pass to see it!))
~~~
Make A Wish
You sighed softly, kicking a bit of sand as you walked down the beach. It was a beautiful afternoon - a spattering of clouds in the sky, but nothing big enough to block the sun’s bright rays for more than a minute. You had been planning to spend the evening at the baseball fields, watching Craig’s girls’ game, but the other team’s coach had called, saying their bus had broken down and asking to reschedule. Craig said the girls were annoyed, but that they would certainly survive the ordeal of waiting two more days to crush the Pine Place Hashbrowns into the dust. 
So you found yourself with nothing to do. You had been expecting to give some kind of pep-talk, rally the girl’s spirits when they started to lose, and cheer them on to victory. Now there was no guarantee they would still need your help, if indeed they ever would have.
Your powers were chancey that way. You didn’t know if you were doing the fairy-god type of fathering until your wings popped out. There was always a pull guiding you to where you were needed, and once you found the key element of your newest task, your wings materialized, letting you know you were on the right track. They were sort of a radar, in their own way. And of course, this drew attention from children and the occasional tween, since they were the only ones who could see the wings when they appeared. It had taken you until Amanda lost her last baby tooth to realize that that was the defining factor. Once a kid lost their last baby tooth, they were blind to this bit of magic. 
As if on cue, your wings fluttered up, a pale iridescent green with swirling tails that stretched halfway down your calves, just in time to feel a bump to your hip that nearly bowled you over.
An undignified sound escaped your throat as you stumbled, and you looked down at your assailant - an enormous cocoa brown mastiff, with a dusky brown muzzle and ears. She looked up at you with droopy eyes, almost expectant, just waiting for you to do something. Offering your hand, she gave you a sniff and a nuzzle. “So what’s your name, gorgeous?” you asked, taking a knee so you could rub at her face. If this beauty needed a home, you’d be more than happy to provide one, but that didn’t seem quite right. Besides, she was wearing a collar - return her to her home? Except the collar only held a tag that assured a rabies shot, the back of which gave the address for the animal shelter.
But ‘home’ felt right. Looking into the dog’s dark eyes, it struck you, and you smiled. “Can I trust you to follow me?” you asked, taking a step and looking back to indicate that she should.
She looked at you blankly and you sighed. “What if I promise you treats when we get there?”
You took another step and the dog began to follow, and your grin returned. You started heading back to the cul-de-sac, the mastiff at your heels. “Duchess Cordelia? Duchess!”
Glancing back, you noticed a person with dark hair, looking rather out of sorts and clutching a bag of dog treats. It almost looked like-
You shook your head and kept walking. Damien wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a polo shirt.
In any case, they hadn’t seemed to have noticed you, so you kept walking, carefully ducking out of sight of the shelter employee
“The Duchess Cordelia, huh? I think it suits you,” you hummed, grinning at the oversized pup. “Well, Duchess, let’s get you adopted, huh?”
~~~
It was only a short walk back to the cul-de-sac, but you were grateful that working out with Craig seemed to have made it a little easier. Flying would have been easiest, had you not had to worry about being spotted, and carrying two-hundred pounds of dog.
The Duchess, seeming to know better than you what she was doing, trotted right up to Hugo’s door and began fiddling with the knob. She probably would have gotten it open, too, had it not been locked. You’d kind of been hoping Hugo would be home so you could talk him into adopting before the shelter person found their way here, but the loud music blasting from the upper floor said Ernest was probably home, and you would take what you could get. “You’ve got the right idea,” you grinned, brows furrowing nervously. “Normally I’d say ‘a little breaking and entering never hurt anyone, but. Well.” Shaking your head, you lifted your hand, waving her away from the knob, now plastered in drool and mud. Luckily, with a little zap of magic, the door creaked open, and that was all the Duchess needed to get inside. 
“MC?”
You jumped, whipping around to spot Brian, looking at you with all the concern one expected of someone who just witnessed one neighbor let a strange dog into another neighbor’s house. “Can I ask why you just-” “Duchess!?”
You groaned, grabbing Brian’s arm and hauling the larger man to the side of the house. When he tried to ask what you were doing again, you shushed him, wings fluttering nervously as you peered around the side of the building. Polo person seemed to note the open door with a groan of their own, moving quickly to the front step and knocking politely before stepping inside. “MC, what is going on?” Brian demanded. You shushed him, peering through the window. 
“I’ll explain later. For now, I just need you to trust me,” you added, whispering your plea for patience. You expected Brian to saunter off to call the police, but instead, he sidled up beside you, both of you poking your heads up over the window sill to look in on the scene. The Duchess seemed to have left the sitting room in tact, but she definitely did not like the leash that Polo Person-
“Is that Damien?”
Holy shit, that is Damien.
“... I didn’t know he wore polo shirts.”
She didn’t seem to like the idea of Damien leashing her.
Things were looking cagey; Damien seemed to be trying to reason with the Duchess, until a flash of orange drew your eye, and suddenly, the Duchess blew past Damien, tackling Ernest to the ground and eating a pizza roll from his hand “Sweet success,” you grinned, until you caught sight of your wings out of the corner of your eye. Was there something else-? “So you want to explain to me why you put a stray dog in Hugo’s house and count his son getting tackled as a ‘success’?”
Ah. So there was. “And maybe also the wings?” What.
“I mean, I’m not one to judge, and they look like they’re very high-quality, but I don’t think-” “You can see them?” Brian seemed jarred by your interruption, but even more so by the way the words “Dad can we keep her” (And when did Hugo get home?) made them fold down and vanish off your back.
“I mean- I could? A second ago?” he murmured, bushy brows furrowing in confusion as he leaned back as if to check that they truly were gone. 
“It’s… a long story,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “Why don’t we… get out of Hugo’s yard? I’ll explain everything.”
The two of you sneaked back out to the sidewalk, a little hand-wave and a whispered spell on your part kept the men on the front step from noticing you, but Hugo seemed thrilled with the situation, excited to have his son call him ‘dad’ again.”
Brian seemed befuddled and a little frustrated, but you walked him back to your house and sat in the lawn chairs in your backyard.
“So, as much as I would love to simplify it down to “I found a home for a dog and a dog for a home”, you being able - to see me, like that… it complicates things.”
“How so?” he asked, drawing your shy gaze. “Seems fairy straightforward to me.” Any other time, that would have made you crack up. Even now it drew a chuckle out of you, but for the most part, you were solemn. “Does it now?” “Well, you did what needed doing, in an odd sense and with an admittedly strange method, but it did seem to work. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Hugo smile like that when talking about Ernest.”
You couldn’t help but smile, glad to have had a hand in your neighbor’s joy.
“I just… this can’t really be real, can it? I mean, that very nearly looked like magic,”
“It was,” you sighed, drawing his eye. “What i don’t understand is how you saw my wings. Only kids ever see them! People lose the ability to see magic when they lose their baby teeth - it’s a representation of childhood innocence thing.”
“I still have a baby tooth. There was no adult tooth underneath, so if that’s the rule… I didn’t exactly break it…” You sighed, taking a long dredge of pop.
“If that’s the case, I’m surprised you haven’t seen anything before. We’re not exactly subtle around adults, since they usually can’t see any magical shenaniganery.”
“Okay. Well, the wings are gone now, so… what’s that about?”
“They become visible when the job starts and vanish when it ends,” you explained, resting your elbows on your legs and folding your hands. “I told you I travel around town for work, and that I worked with kids, both of which are true.”
“You said you were a child psychologist.” “I said no such thing. I told you about my job and let you draw your own conclusions. The actual, official title is Fairy Godparent. The wings are… sort of a radar. When there’s something I can do to help someone who needs it, they become visible and act as a sort of calming aura, to let kids know that they can trust me. Sometimes it’s granting a wish kind of help that they need, for bigger stuff, but most of the time… most of the time, they just need someone to talk to. To tell them it’s going to be alright.” You gave a shrug, summoning a few cans of soda from the garage and offering one to Brian. Who accepted dumbly and looked at the unlit firepit as he absorbed all he’d been told. 
“So… Wand? Crown? Magic?”
“The crown and wand are a uniform thing, I only wear them to meetings and evaluations.” “Fairies have meetings and evaluations?” “There are offices, too. Real similar to mortal offices, except everyone has wings,” you chuckled. Sighing softly, you took a sip from your can. He did the same. 
He pestered you with questions for the next half an hour; Are there other fairy god parents in Maple Bay? Did Amanda know? Was her other parent a fairy too? How well did being a fairy pay? You answered them dutifully; Yes, we all work in precinct-like sectors, she’s always known, Alex was a mortal, it pays well enough.
“You think the dog is a good plan for Ernest?” he asked finally, after you finally caved and lit a fire to show off a little magic. 
“It’ll give him a chance to be responsible, and hopefully give him and Hugo something to bond over,” you hummed, finishing off your can. Brian chuckled, scratching at his beardy cheek with a thoughtful look. “You alright there big guy?”
“I was just thinking…” “Uh oh, that’s worrying.” “Watch it, MC.” “Sorry,” you gave him an apologetic smile. He pouted lightly at you, but it melted into a smile of his own a moment later. “What were you thinking?”
“I probably should’ve figured something magical was going on a lot sooner,” he stated, swirling the last of his soda in the can and watching you out of the corner of his eye. His grin went a little cheeky. “There always was something enchanting about you.”
You would have spit out your soda if you’d had any left. Instead you choked on air, looking at him with wide eyes and red cheeks. You ducked your head, trying to hide your smile.
The stars had begun to dot the twilight sky. You heard a deep ‘boof’ a few houses down, and somehow, in years of performing magic big and small, this was the first time you were the one to be bewitched.
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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years
Text
To Give Him The World, Chpt.2
Main Characters: Thor x Ellie (original female character)
Summary: Ellie goes shopping for Thor and he invites her to stay for dinner when she gets back. After a nice evening together Ellie agrees to spend the night and they both finally gather the nerve to face the growing attraction between them. Master List is HERE if you need to catch up.
Warnings/ Content: A little more self consciousness (he’s a work in progress ya’ll) and angst if you squint. Mostly sweet shy fluffiness though. 
Word Count: 3.6k
Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I didn’t mean for this chapter to be quite so long but my hand slipped and now it’s a beast. OH WELL. I’m a sucker for a nice long build up and these two just give me all the feels. Fun fact - the movie Ellie mentions in this chapter (Safety Not Guaranteed) is a real movie and it’s my favorite movie IRL. It’s just the most perfect thing I’ve ever watched and something about the end scene just makes me feel like the world is a better place. If anyone has seen it and wants to scream about it’s amazingness with me feel free to shoot me a message. Okayyyy enough rambling for now. Hope ya’ll have a nice weekend and enjoy this chapter. XOXO - Ash
To Give Him The World, Chapter Two Ellie returned an hour later, arms loaded with brown paper bags. She had been so engrossed in picking things out for Thor that she had completely forgotten her own shopping. Not that she could have carried anything else even if she had remembered. It wasn’t difficult shopping for the god, she had cleaned up enough wrappers to know what foods he favored. Ellie was sure to throw in a few healthier options too, though she wondered if he’d even try them. 
Thor jumped up from his seat to help when Ellie crossed the living room but she waved him off with her free hand, setting the bags down in the kitchen with a thump. She took a deep sigh of relief and started unpacking her haul. 
Thor watched her from the doorway, “I’d like to help. What can I do?” He asked hopefully. 
Ellie looked at him with surprise, “You can put the cold things away in the fridge. It’s all in this bag here.” 
Thor picked up the bag she had pointed to and started unloading things haphazardly. Ellie grimaced when she saw what he was doing but didn’t criticize him. She unpacked the last of the dry goods and yawned loudly before she could hold it back. 
“You’ve worked too hard today because of me. You shouldn’t have had to do all this.” Shame filled Thor’s chest. Here was this beautiful, kind woman who had spent the whole day working herself ragged to clean up the mess he shouldn’t have let happen in the first place. Thor let the familiar pain of failure wash over him as it had almost daily for the past decade.
Ellie noticed the change in Thor’s expression, the faint lines of stress forming by his mismatched eyes. “It’s okay.” She assured him. “I volunteered to come to do this. Besides, we haven’t seen each other in centuries. I wanted to see you.”
Thor looked over at her, wishing he the circumstances of their reunion were different. “Let me at least buy you dinner for your troubles. You shouldn’t have to cook after all this.”
Ellie thought of the empty apartment that awaited her and decided an evening with a childhood friend was much more appealing. “Alright, that sounds good.” 
Thor’s smile returned, “I’ll go call in a pizza. Do you eat pizza? What about jalapeño poppers? Or wings?” 
Ellie laughed at Thor’s eagerness, “Yes, any of that is fine. I’ll eat anything.” 
“Good, good.” Thor muttered to himself as he went to call in the order. 
Ellie remembered the laundry and went to collect it before the clothes wrinkled any more than they already had. Thor found her in his bedroom folding a bulky grey sweater. “I can do that.” He said from the doorway. 
Ellie turned to face him, setting the sweater down on the bed. “I started it, I’ll finish it. Why don’t you go pick out a movie for us to watch while we wait for dinner?” 
Thor nodded and after a moment he walked off. Ellie grabbed a pair of socks and wished her hands would stop shaking every time he looked at her for more than a few seconds. She felt a little pathetic, pinning after Thor again after all these years. She had been infatuated with him when they were younger and being around him again brought everything crashing back in. Shaking her head at herself Ellie refocused on her task and prayed she would make it through the evening without making a fool of herself. 
Thor flicked through movie options on the television, not liking anything he was finding. He wasn’t sure what she would like, probably something funny, but what kind of things did she find amusing? He remembered as children she loved the comedy plays best but that was a millennium ago. Thor found himself displeased he didn’t know and wondered if her laugh was still the same as when they were children. He wanted to know everything about her. He longed for the connection they had when they were young, and more he admitted to himself. Thor wished he had taken better care of himself, body and mind. He wanted things that were beyond his reach now. He couldn’t ask her to accept him like this, not after having seen him in his prime. Lost in thought he jumped, startled, when she joined him on the sofa. 
“What did you find?” Ellie asked him. 
“Nothing yet. I wasn’t sure what you would like.” 
“Just pick something. I’ll be fine.”
“What is your favorite film?”
“Safety Not Guaranteed. You’ll never find it on Netflix, trust me. Just scroll through what’s new and we’ll see what they have.” Thor clicked down to the recently added list and started scrolling through the list. “Have you seen Superbad?” Ellie asked him as it came across the screen.
“No, I do not believe I have. Would you like to watch it?”
“Sure, it’s a classic. I think you might enjoy it, it’s really funny.”
Thor started the movie and couldn’t help but notice how Ellie had settled in against his side so comfortably. He wasn’t sure if she was conscious of how she had pressed up against him but he wasn’t going to point it out and risk her retreating. Dinner arrived shortly after the movie started and Thor jumped up to get the door. Ellie’s eyes grew wide at the armful of food Thor returned with. He sat everything out on the living room table and went to get plates from the kitchen. Ellie looked around realizing he had ordered two large pizzas, a box of wings, jalapeño poppers, and fries. “Do you want a beer?” Thor called from the kitchen. 
“Sure.” She called back, thinking it might help her nerves. “You got quite a feast.” She commented as he returned with plates and their drinks.
“Yeah, ah, I guess I overdid it a bit.” He flustered, a little embarrassed. He wouldn’t have thought twice about the order had he been alone but under her gaze he wished he had not appeared so gluttonous. 
Ellie wished she could take back her words. She knew firsthand how it felt to eat around other people knowing every bite was being judged. It wasn’t fair but it was something she had faced her whole life since she never fit into the petite, thin mold expected of her as a woman. “I appreciate it.” She tried to make him more comfortable. “It’s nice to have options.”
Thor nodded, attempting to relax a little. He piled his plate with a little of everything and Ellie did the same trying to put him at ease. It was too much but she intended to at least make a dent in it before giving up. Thor started up the movie again as they ate and slowly Ellie found herself unwinding. Eventually she gave up and pushed her half full plate away as Thor filled his up again. This time she got up to get them more beer and returned to find him laughing at McLovin trying to use his fake ID. She smiled down at him as she resumed her seat by his side. He seemed so much more relaxed now and she was glad to have brought him a little happiness if only for a few hours. 
Thor took the cold bottle from Ellie and drank almost half with one long pull. Ellie sipped at hers, feeling the warm buzz starting in the back of her brain. She never could handle her alcohol well. Thor looked so inviting next to her, she missed the days when she would curl up with him so freely. Before she could second guess herself, Ellie laid her head against Thor’s shoulder and got comfortable. Thor tensed at the contact for a moment but once he looked down at Ellie’s content face he relaxed. He wondered if it was possible for her to enjoy being close to him as much as he did. Nervousness raced through him and he distracted himself with his food and the movie, unwilling to face his emotions. 
The movie ended and Ellie let out a long sigh. She sat forward to stretch in her seat, her hair flowing freely down her back and brushing against the sofa seat as she arched her back. Thor longed to run his fingers through it and found himself acting on the impulse, his common sense apparently having left him after the fifth beer. Ellie froze in place at the feel of Thor playing in her hair. She had stopped halfway through her third beer but her mind was still a little slow as she tried to sort out what was going on. She turned to face him, a questioning look in her pale green eyes. Thor seemed to snap out of it when he saw her expression and he started apologizing, “I’m so sorry, Ellie. I just… I don’t… I would never…” he fumbled. 
Ellie reached out to take the hand he had pulled back into her own, “It’s alright. I don’t mind.” They sat staring at each other quietly for a moment, both unsure how to navigate the waters they were rapidly approaching. Ellie shifted closer to him, her thigh pressed up against his, still holding his hand in her lap. Thor reveled in the peace and calm her presence brought him. It was something he had rarely found over the past decade and he was reluctant to let it go. He stamped down the desire that grew inside him as his mind wandered to what she might look like underneath him. 
Ellie seemed to regain her wits quicker and she let his hand go to stand up. “I should head home.” She said with a tinge of sadness in her voice. Thor noticed she was still a little uneasy on her feet whether from the beer or exhaustion or both, he wasn’t comfortable with her trying to get home in her current state. Thor reached out and took her hand again, “Are you sure? You’re not steady on your feet yet and I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you.” 
Ellie knew he was right and she was a good fifteen minute walk away even if she hustled. She was worried about her slowly weakening resolve to not throw herself at him though. 
“Please,” Thor said breaking through her thoughts, “Don’t leave tonight.”
Ellie’s mind spun at the implications. “What?”
“Don’t leave tonight. Remember the nights we used to stay out looking at the stars together curled up in a blanket fort? It could be like that again.” 
Idiot, she chided herself for thinking she saw more in his eyes than friendship. “Okay.” She agreed. “I’ll help you cleanup and then I’ll crash here for the night.” 
“Thank you.” Thor was relieved she had agreed to stay. He gathered the leftovers up while Ellie grabbed the beer bottles and they made quick work of cleaning up the living room. “Ready for bed?” He asked as he put the last of the pizza in the fridge. 
Ellie yawned again and nodded. “Yes, please.” She said afterwards. 
“Follow me.” Thor motioned in the direction of the bedroom and Ellie followed him. Standing in the room with him it felt smaller than it had earlier. Thor rustled through his drawers and pulled out a long T-shirt which he held out to her. “You can wear this if you’d like to get changed.” He offered.
Ellie took the shirt and thanked him. She headed to the bathroom to get changed and calm herself a little. It was just Thor, she tried to tell herself. It was no different than when they were children innocently sleeping beside one another. She tugged the shirt on and was glad it flowed midway down her thighs like a dress. She unclasped her bra, unwilling to sleep with it on regardless of how immodest it felt to be bare beneath his shirt. Folding her clothes in a neat pile she tucked them into the linen closet and made her way back to the bedroom. Thor was looking down at the bed like it was full of spiders, lost in concerned thoughts. He hadn’t changed and Ellie wondered if it was because of her. “Thanks for the shirt.” She said breaking the silence. 
Thor looked over at her and his mouth went dry. So much for ignoring his attraction to her, he lamented to himself. She was perfection wearing only his thin white shirt, it did little to hide the feminine curves underneath and he couldn’t help but notice the little peaks of her nipples pressing up against the fabric. “You’re welcome.” He forced himself to say as normally as he could manage. 
“Aren’t you going to overheat?” Ellie asked with a frown at his clothes. 
Thor pulled at the hem of his shirt, “I did not want to cause you discomfort.”
“Thor, I’m wearing your shirt as a nightgown. I think it’s fair you get comfortable as well. How would you normally sleep if I wasn’t here?”
Thor’s cheeks flushed and he avoided her eyes, “Perhaps I’ll just take off my shirt. Let me get the lights first.” As much as baring his soft chest and belly to her distressed him, he needed the additional barrier of his sweatpants between them if he was going to get any sleep at all. 
Ellie guessed he would have slept naked based on his blush and she hoped he hadn’t embarrassed him too much. Thor flicked off the lights and Ellie heard him shuffling in the dark to take off his shirt. The bed sagged under his weight when he joined her under the covers. She rolled onto her side to face him, trying to make out his features in the dimly lit room. Thor’s breathing was shallow, his anxiety getting the best of him. He struggled to stay put and not bolt out of the bed. He wanted her there in his bed but the idea of her seeing him like this or knowing how he desired her made him worry she would run off. 
“You’re thinking awfully loud over there.” Ellie said into the dark. She could hear his rapid breathing and wondered what had upset him. 
“I’m sorry, I’m not used to sharing my bed. Most nights I have trouble sleeping.”
“No worries. I was just concerned I’d done something.”
“No, of course not. If anything I’ll sleep better with you here.”
“Well that’s good.” Ellie decided to risk it and moved closer to him under the blankets. “I would like to bring you comfort if I can.” 
Thor held his breath as he felt her body press up against his. She placed a small hand against his shoulder and ran it up and down his arm soothingly. He waited for her to recoil, to run, but she stayed put. He took a shuddering breath and she moved her hand up to his cheek, caressing it gently. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked, worried. Thor nodded against her palm, unable to find words. It had been so long since anyone had touched with him affection that he barely knew how to respond. Ellie was starting to piece together his reactions. She was sobering and knew she could run home if need be, but she wanted to test the waters to see if she was right. She needed to know one way or another if the longing she thought she had seen in his eyes was real. 
Ellie let her fingers stroke his beard, feeling the softness of his jawline under the wiry hair. Unconsciously Thor pressed his cheek against her palm again, enjoying the contact. He was slowly losing the battle for self control and a spark of hope that she might return his affections flickered in him. Ellie wanted to run her hands down his soft chest and across the slope of his belly but she couldn’t risk being so bold. If he didn’t feel the same she didn’t want to send him running for the hills. Instead she tested the waters with her words. “This is nothing like when we were children, is it?” She asked quietly. 
Thor shook his head, “No, it’s not.”
“Better though.” She tried. 
The spark of hope in Thor’s chest bloomed into a fire at her words. “Much better.” He agreed. 
Feeling brave and praying to the Norns, Ellie leaned up leaving one hand cupping Thor’s cheek and she hovered her face over his. She waited, giving him a moment to understand her intentions. She stroked his cheek with her thumb, waiting for any sign that he was willing. Thor’s eyes trailed from hers to her lips and back again, his own parting slightly as he inhaled. She took the chance and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was tentative and brief but left Thor shaking. Ellie leaned back a little, giving him space. She moved her hand back down to rubbing his shoulder letting him process what she had done. In her mind she was screaming at herself for being so brazen, waiting for him to politely decline her advances. 
Thor’s voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “I cannot ask this of you.” 
“Why not?” She asked, confused. 
“You’ve already done so much for me. I know you’re just trying to help, do not feel obligated to comfort me in this way too.”
“Obligated? Do you think so little of me?” Ellie’s heart ached that he thought so lowly of himself that she was showing him affection only out of pity. 
“No, never. I think the world of you. I just… Ellie, look at me. I cannot expect that you would care for me so. Not like this.” 
Ellie’s temper flared briefly and she pressed her palm against his soft chest. “I am looking at you. If you do not desire me just say so. I’m not a little girl anymore, you won’t hurt my feelings, Thor.” 
Thor could barely form a response. “Ellie, I do. I just never thought…You remember how I was in my prime. And now...” 
“Okay. It’s okay. I’m no stranger to feeling insecure.”
“But you are lovely. What would ever make you feel that way?” 
Ellie sighed and took Thor’s hand in hers. She pressed his palm against her soft middle and then pressed her palm against his. “There’s no difference here.” She explained simply, hoping he would understand. 
Thor rubbed gently, enjoying the feel of her. “You have always been this way though, it’s just how you were made. So beautiful with your rounded curves and softness. I am a… a fattened shell of a god who failed. Therein lies the difference.”
“Oh Thor.” Ellie’s eyes teared at his words. “Darling, no.” Thor’s heart leapt at the endearment as she continued. “You’re not any of those things. You are a hero who’s had to endure more loss than anyone could be expected to bear, god or not.” 
Thor couldn’t speak past the lump that had formed in his throat. He pulled Ellie closer to him until their bodies lay flush against one another. He leaned his forehead down, resting it against hers. Ellie leaned in to him, running her hand down his broad back. She tilted her head back slightly to move her lips against his once again. The kiss was less hesitant than their first and Thor eagerly met her motions with his own. She pulled back in desperate need of air and she could see the smile on his face as she steadied herself. 
“So perfect.” Thor mumbled while pressing a kiss to her shoulder where the shirt’s neckline had dropped exposing a bit of her pale skin. He went to say more but was cut off by a long yawn. 
“We can just sleep. I’m exhausted too.” Ellie offered. 
Thor frowned, “Will you be able to stay a little while tomorrow?” 
“Absolutely. I can call out of work and spend the whole day if you’d like. Maybe I’ll teach you how to make pancakes for breakfast.” 
Thor made a happy noise in the back of his throat. “Yes, I would very much like that.” He pulled Ellie even closer still, until she was half lying on him. She snuggled in making herself comfortable. Ellie loved the way they fit together like this, the way his plush body yielded against hers like a pillow. A small sigh escaped her lips and he kissed the top of her head in approval. “How did I get so lucky?” He mused. 
Ellie laughed lightly, “Well, about a thousand years ago you were unbelievably kind to a poor little girl who spent her days watching two brothers play but was too shy to ask to join.” 
“Mmm, very wise of me.”
“Indeed.” Ellie yawned again, barely hanging on. “We need to sleep, Thor. I promise we can talk more in the morning. We can spend tomorrow doing whatever you want. But for now we both need sleep.”
She felt Thor nod and then tense up for a moment, “Ellie, ah… if I should wake you in the night… if you should hear any yelling, please forgive me. I do not typically sleep very well.” 
Ellie wasn’t surprised Thor had nightmares after all he had been through and was touched he thought to warn her. “It’ll be okay. If you do wake me then I’ll just have to help you fall back asleep.” 
Thor squeezed her tighter and then finally relaxed, trying to sleep. Ellie laid awake for some time after, recognizing the moment he fell asleep by the change in his breathing. She struggled to calm her mind, the days events running on an endless loop. Never in her wildest dreams would she have believed she would be spending the night in Thor’s bed chastely sleeping together. Finally though, exhaustion won out and she drifted off to sleep in his arms.
Tag list lovelies: @thorfanficwriter @lancsnerd
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Bill Denbrough is a story-teller.
Need somebody to tell you what happened on last night’s showing of Saturday Night Live? Richie Tozier’ll do the job just fine, sure, but if you find him chances are good you’ll find Denbrough too, and he’ll make you feel as though you’re in the audience, staring right at the actors and actresses themselves. Didn’t feel like reading a book, but have to turn in an essay about it in an hour? Bill won’t write the essay for you, but he’ll tell the story as though he lived it himself and make it come alive clearer than any movie or SparkNotes article ever could. Words are both his home and weapon of choice- they are where he goes to rest and what he uses to look the world squarely in the eye, accept it for the shit-show it is, and continue on. It is because of all this, and because of their love and reverence for him, that Richie and Stan so easily believe his story about Georgie’s reappearance. And it is because of this that Bill manages to convince both of them to spend their Saturday locked inside the Derry City Library, scouring book after book for an explanation to their situation.
The table they’ve occupied for the better part of two hours now is completely filled with books. There are some on psychology and mental health, others on poltergeists and demons, ESP and clairvoyance, ley-lines, mediums, spirits, psychics, religions of all kinds, and all other things paranormal or strange. Every now and then, Stan looks up from his notes and glares at the mess before him, as though willing it to disappear. His side of the table is neatly arranged, with a hefty stack of books on his left and pages of notes on his right. Periodically, Richie stands up quietly and takes a stroll through the shelves, shaking excess energy out through his hands and making idle chatter with disgruntled library-goers who would much rather be left alone. His side of the table is busy but not particularly messy, with a few books open at once and a page filled with messy handwriting and scribbled doodles sitting off to the side. Every few minutes, Bill glances to his right to see how Georgie is fairing in their new surroundings and his stomach drops, like he’s seeing his dead brother’s figure for the first time. His side of the table is empty save for one book, opened to one of the earlier pages, his chair angled as far to the left as possible.
All three (living) boys jump as a large pile of books are dropped on the table. Mr. Cunningham, Derry’s only librarian, dusts his hands off and sighs. He stares daggers at the dozens of books already scattered across the table, imagining all the shelving he’ll be doing once the boys leave. Stan coughs to grab his attention and offers a slow, easy smile. “Thanks a lot, Mr. Cunningham. We really appreciate your help.”
Mr. Cunningham smiles back, previous displeasure forgotten. Bill and Richie share a glance, and Bill doesn’t try to hide his grin when Richie sticks a finger down his throat. If Bill’s talent is storying telling, Stan’s is kiss-assery. “My pleasure, Mr. Uris. Let me know if you need anything else,” he turns to Bill and Richie. Richie opens his mouth to say something, but Bill gives his foot a good warning kick before anything can come out. “You boys make sure to clean up after yourselves.”
Richie, lounging in the chair on Bill’s other side, pretends to shoot the librarian with double finger guns as he walks away. “God,” he groans. “Why do adults always look at you like they want you to suck their dicks?”
Stan smirks as he sorts through the new books, distributing an even amount to each of them. “Someone should warn them they’ll have to get in line.”
“Wowza wowza,” Richie grins. “Who gets to go first, me or Billy boy here?”
Stan absentmindedly flips through the pages of a book. “Who said you would be taking turns?”
Richie considers that for a moment. He leans forward in his seat, his eyes following Stan’s long, graceful fingers as they turn page after page. His face turns a splotchy, excited red, like he wishes Stan’s fingers were busy doing something else. He coughs. “Is it weird to get a hard-on in a library?”
Stanley doesn’t look up as he neatly writes something onto a sheet of paper. “No. I’m sure Mr. Cunningham will be very flattered to know you think so much of him.”
Bill clears his throat.
“Sorry,” Stan offers Bill a small, guilty smile. He shoots a glare in Richie’s direction. “Let’s get back to work.”
“Wuh-wuh-well,” Bill starts, looking down at the single book in front of him. He’d picked it from the pile on a whim, its plain, weathered cover certainly not making it the most interesting book of the bunch. Nonetheless, the first page had caught his attention and managed to hold it for a good two hours. He places it in the middle of the table, and Richie and Stan lean forward to get a better look at it. “I duh-duh-duh-oh-oh-n’t think w-w-we n-need to luh-luh-ook a-anymore.”
Stan raises an eyebrow. “This is a book about ghosts, Bill.”
“Har de har har,” Richie mimes a laugh, but his face is pale. “That’s real funny, Denbrough. You know, I’m pretty sure I saw the ghost of Stan’s virginity in the back of my mom’s Honda Accord. Should we be worrying about that, too, ‘cause I think the warranty is about to-”
“Wuh-wuh-why,” Bill interrupts.“d-did we even geh-geh-get b-books about th-th-this sah-sah-stuff if you guh-guys th-think it’s suh-suh-something eh-eh-else?”
Stan looks at Bill, eyes full of pity and exhaustion. “Come on. You can’t really think George-, a ghost is following you around.”
“Wuh-wuh-ood y-you rather him b-be here b-b-because of Pah-Pah-Pah-Pah-”
“Uh,” now it’s Richie’s turn to interrupt. “I’d like to take a minute to remind the audience that we killed that son of a bitch, like, a long time ago.
Stan slowly sits back in his seat, staring off into the distance, past Richie’s head. He shudders, like he sees something there that has no resemblance to the quiet rows of books that surround them. “We don’t know for sure he’s dead.”
Richie lets out a strangled laugh. His face is a sickly white, like he’s going to need to know the quickest way to the bathroom in a minute or two. “Do you remember what he looked like before he fell down that stinkin’ hole in the earth? If that motherfucker’s alive, I’m-”
“S-s-so you th-think it’s a guh-guh-ghost, t-too?”
Richie frowns. “Now, listen, I never said that.”
“Th-th-then wuh-wuh- what ?”
“I mean,” Richie shifts anxiously in his seat. He places two of his books in the middle of the table, on top of Bill’s and flips through them for a moment, looking for specific pages. “take a look at this. It could be somethin’ like high levels of mold in your house or, hell, I don’t know, stress-induced hallucinations or some shit. But it’s not ghosts and it’s not the fucking clown.”
“I’m nuh-nuh-nuh-not kuh-kuh-razy.”
“That’s not what he’s saying, Bill.” Stan takes one of Richie’s books, eyes scanning it hopefully.
“Of course not,” Richie worriedly runs a hand through his hair. It falls over his eyes and, for a moment, he looks just like he did five years ago. Scared and small and not at all ready to face the ugly truth that lives under Derry. He takes a deep, steadying breath, and the resemblance is gone.“I just- if it is a ghost, and I’m not saying I think it is, what next? We get a cool van and a talking dog, buy Bev a purple dress and call ourselves the Mystery Gang?”
Bill sits up straight in his chair and puts on the face he used to get them all to follow him into Neibolt all those years ago. “Wuh-wuh-we’re nah-nah-not t-telling th-the uh-uh-others about Juh-Juh-Georgie.”
Stan and Richie stare at Bill for a moment, eyes wide with shock (in Richie’s case) and frustration (in Stan’s). Stan closes his eyes and rubs his temples.
Richie’s shock quickly simmers into hurt and quiet indignation. Bill might be the leader of this operation, but they were a team of seven members, no matter what. “Now, wait just a minute-”
A small, quiet cough from the end of the table reminds the three of them that they are not alone. They aren’t in the clubhouse or the Barrens, or even crammed together, knees overlapping, on Bill’s bed. They’re just three boys with voices that are filled with too much fear and unspoken anger for a library, speaking too loudly about things better discussed in private.
They looked up to see a girl, about their age, glancing uncomfortably at each of their faces. For a moment, Bill thinks she stares right past him, right at Georgie, but then her eyes reach Stan’s and her face visibly brightens, like she’s found a lifeboat amongst a storm of angsty teenagers and sad, invisible, dead boys. “Stan! Sorry. For interrupting, I mean. I just, uh. Do you guys have,” she holds out a tiny slip of paper to Stan. “that?”
Stan takes a deep breath, pushing down the stress and worry their conversation had created enough to force his mouth into a tight smile. “I don’t think so,” he stands, eager to leave. “I can help you look for it though, if you want.”
Relief floods her face. “Would you really?”
“Of course,” Stan turns to face Richie and Bill. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it again. He shoots them both a frustrated glare. “I’ll be back.”
Richie slumps in his chair and watches Stan and the girl walk away. He can tell by the tightness in Stan’s shoulders that he hasn’t forgotten what they’ve been talking about, but his face is light and he says something that makes the girl laugh. A few steps later they’re out of sight and Richie slumps even further down into his chair, so that Bill can only see the top of his head. “Who was that?”
Bill crosses his arms on the table and puts his head down on top of them. Georgie watches him do so. “S-s-some new guh-guh-irl in one of S-s-stan’s c-c-classes. Puh-puh-atty, I th-think.”
Richie glares moodily at his corner of the table. Fucking ghosts, messing everything up. Fucking clowns. Fucking Derry. He waits for his stomach to calm down before speaking again. “This fucking sucks, man.”
Bill glances at Georgie and fights the urge to cry. “T-t-tell muh-muh-me a-about it.”
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Survey #245
“i fell asleep at the wheel again, crashed my car just to feel again.”
What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Ketchup. What do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Obsess over the appropriate amount of eye contact I make. What color is your mp3? Hot pink. Have you ever laid in a hammock? Yeup. Is there a song or lyrics currently super-glued in your head? "Popular Monster" by Falling In Reverse FUCK What can you go a day without doing? Uhhh a lot? I dunno... oh, drink water because I suck at that gah. I've gotten a lot better than I used to be tho. What can’t you go a day without doing? Touching some form of technology. Who do you spend most of your time with? Myself. Do you have a favorite classical composer? No. What type of quality is a must-have in a friend? Treat others with kindness. Are you any good at reading someone's body language? I definitely think so. What type of art would you hang up in your room? Lol I have some of my own... but let's say it was a clean slate again. I'd put some macabre/gothic art of some sort up, probably. Of COURSE with meerkats making an appearance. What fruit is too sweet to you? Hm, I'm blanking. What was the last contest you have ever won: Uhhhh... I think the giveaway of two Silent Hill: Revelation things? That was forever ago. What was the worst hair cut you have ever had in your entire life: Looking back, the haircut I had before this one (short on the left, faded into still rather long on the right) I don't really like anymore. Looks fine in some pictures, but not most. What was the worst thing you have ever worn in your life: Oh I don't know. Probably some dance costume. Do you like any sort of animes: Yeah, a handful. I'd honestly like to watch more. Have you ever used someone for your own benefits: I don't think so. What is the worst cartoon you have ever seen: Oh boy, idk. There's some dumb ones, a lot that I've only seen peeks of. Do you like to type or write more: TYPE. Writing physically can easily make my carpal tunnel act up. I hated having to hand-write a few essays last semester... I had to stop frequently to roll my wrists and cringe and stuff. What color would you have your skin if you could change it: I'd like pale skin like I have, but I wish it was more flawless/porcelain-ish. SOOOOOO pretty ahahhhhhhhhahhhhhh Do you usually cook your own meals, or does someone cook for you: I usually have to throw something together in the microwave because Mom's barely home, but when she is home, she cooks. If someone cooks for you, do you always thank them for it: YES. YES. NOT SAYING ANYTHING IS SO FUCKING DISRESPECTFUL. What do you do during the day: Almost without question, SOMEthing on technology/usually computer. As for what I do on technology, boy, a lot a lot. I don't even feel like listing it all. When you are online what do you normally find yourself doing: ... Oh, lmao. Uhhh binging YouTube, writing on or just checking up on KM, dA browsing/cleaning my drowning inbox, Facebook, "working" at the SH and SotC wikis, playing games, roaming Tumblr, check my emails, uhhhhhhh,,,, What is the most hated item you own: I wouldn't... keep it if I hated it? Uhhhh yeah, I honestly don't know. What is your favorite item you own out of all the items you have: My iPod, really. I have over 1k songs on this old-ass nano that I've had since middle school. I guess my laptop is kinda tied, but idk. Like, I don't love this laptop itself, just that it allows me to go online at a decent speed lmao. I guess they're my favorites in different ways. So, do you think that you will get where you want in life currently: Not stopping pushing for it 'til I get it. Why is that so. May I ask: I'm "too" determined. It's been a struggle getting to even where I am, but FUCK, I'm getting there. Do you like Halloween: I can't fwu if you don't. Has a teacher ever flirted with you? Not to my recollection. Is it okay for friends to kiss each other, as friends? Personally, I think a simple peck is fine IF that's your thing and it's mutually understood that it's platonic. Ex., I know greeting kisses are normal in some cultures, and I see no reason to shame it so long you're not like making out. Is it okay for girls to hit boys? Fuck no. Unless you're like fighting off an assailant/defending yourself, NO gender hits ANYONE. Do you know a lot of attractive boys personally? I've never thought about it? I'm not gonna dig through all the people I know rn... What happens if you realized you had a crush on somebody? More than anything, I'd be scared of being hurt again, particularly if it's a guy. So I definitely wouldn't make the first move. Do you think you are attractive? No. Which two of your friends would have the cutest baby together? I don't know. How do you feel about your naked body? DON'T COME AT ME WITH THIS QUESTION GO AWAY Have you ever been called obnoxious? No. At least, not to my memory. Do you wish you had a bigger family? No, but a more close-knit one. Which friend would you kiss full on the mouth, no questions asked? Sara. If somebody smacks your butt, you automatically say: I wouldn't say shit, I'd turn around and smack them across the face. How often does your family life conflict with your social life? Pretty much never. Have you ever been emotionally abused? No, thankfully. Do small children like you? They seem to, I guess. If karma is really true, should you be worried? Not very. What makeup do you wear on a daily basis? None. Do you have anything hidden in your room? Yeah, some saved money. What do you wish you were doing right now instead of this? It'd be great to talk to Sara. If you had a baby, would you want to have it at home or in a hospital? Oh I'm going to the fucking hospital for that epidural fren. If I even wanted kids. What was the last thing you ordered online? Uhhh good question. Have you ever had a bad experience with anti-depressants? If so, what? Well, actually the entire time I was ON anti-depressants. Because I'm bipolar, anti-depressants actually ramp up the aggression of bipolarity symptoms. How, I don't recall the science of, but I trust every word that comes out of my psychiatrist's mouth for many reasons. That definitely happened. One also made me gain weight, and the worst instance was in middle school when I was briefly on one that made me SO fucking hyper and happy in the morning but I crashed into an absolute bitchy monster by mid-afternoon. Now a combination of mood stabilizers helps both my bipolarity and depression immensely and are the main reason I'm alive. Are you allergic to any plants? I mean, I'm allergic to pollen. Are you an outdoors person? If the weather is cool, I love it. Does your past bother you? Some parts of it. Do you take risks or play it safe? I tend to play it safe. What forms of art do you like the best? This is an absolutely impossible question. "Art" has such an incredible range of forms, and I enjoy like... all. I guess the one thing I don't particularly care for is abstract art. What forms of art do you want to try? HYPERREALISM IN DRAWING. I REALLY wanna be able to draw/paint/whatever and make it look so true to life, BUT I'd like to add fantasy aspects to what I'm making (for example, my characters). I'd love to do portraits, too. This isn't really a "type" of art, but one thing I desperately want in art is to actually develop my own recognizable style that isn't just a wobbly attempt at realism with shitty proportions. What’s your favorite planet? Saturn's dope. Has a medication ever made you itch? No. What’s your favorite rainy day activity? Cuddle with snacks and like binge a good TV show/YT videos, etc. BUT considering I'm single I'ma just take a nap if I'm actually tired and you can hear the rain on the window. Do you put creamer in your tea? I wonder how many times I'll tell surveys I hate tea lmao by the end of my life lmao. What do you think are some good names for twins? I don't care enough to think about this. What are three things that fascinate you? Animal behavior (particularly social), the paranormal, and genetics. Would you say you live more in the past, present, or future? Present, I think. Have you ever been a victim of a crime? Not me personally, no, but my family. We had our basketball hoop stolen from our front yard and I was mega tilted yo. Does injustice make you angry? More like it infuriates me. Do you have the bad habit of procrastinating? Very badly. Are you afraid of running into a certain person in public? I both am and am not afraid of running into Jason. I have a very strong feeling I'd start having a PTSD episode (by that I mean hyperventilating, crying a bit, and shaking at the very least), but simultaneously I just want him to know I'm sorry. Do you have anyone you avoid? No. Do you have the same dreams now that you did as a kid? No. Who’s your crush? I don't really know if I have one right now. My old friend Ian and I started talking, and he's a fucking hilarious dude with similar ethics to mine with great compassion, but I still don't know him well enough to say I like-like him. I'm honestly just happy to have an irl friend again that actually talks to me regularly. Do you trust the government? I believe in WAY too many conspiracy theories to even try to convince anyone I trust the government lmao. Who do you want to meet in Heaven? I don't know exactly what sort of afterlife I believe in (it's not the traditional Heaven though), but I do believe that souls can reunite. The first thing I want to see again is Teddy. Does your school take sports too seriously? Considering we're well-respected in the sports field to the degree we draw in a huge number of foreign athletes, guess you could say yes lmao. Most of the people I even slightly know here came for sports. If there are bruises on your body, how did you get them? There aren’t. Would you ever go back in time to do something over again, but differently? Yes. Where did you kiss the last person you kissed? The airport. Have you thought about your wedding in detail? Not great detail, no. Do you think you could ever really kill someone? In self-defense, I know I could. Do you like Papa John’s pizza? I couldn't even guess the last time I had it. I don't remember. Do you attend school? Yeah. Do you call it a crush, or do you just say you like someone? The latter. Where were you when the ball dropped? In my bed asleep lmao. Where are your siblings? Probably all at work. Waffles, pancakes, or french toast? French toast. Do you ever judge people based on if they believe in God or not? Not really, but I WILL wonder to myself if you believe in some of the bullshit just about every religion has somewhere. Are you sometimes scared to express your opinions in fear of what others might think? YUP YUP YUP! Mainly irl tho. Have you ever painted your nails on only one hand, forgetting about the other one or getting side-tracked? No. Have you ever gone to one of those parties where everyone is falling around drunk everywhere? No. Been to one where everyone was high, though. Are you “the good guy”, or “the bad guy”, or somewhere in between? I'd hope the good guy. Do you ever erase the numbers off of surveys just because they annoy you? Ha ha yeah. Do you think you will have the same best friend a year from now? Yes. Do you have siblings over the age of twenty-one? Yes, all but one. What do you hear right now? "Another Life" by Motionless In White. Proud as fuck because this song was a MASSIVE PTSD trigger at first and even made me cry, but despite it still making me kinda uncomfortable, I can listen to and enjoy it now. If an ex said they hated you, what would you say? The only three people whose opinions would matter there would be Sara, Girt, and Jason. Sara and Jason would fucking break me, while I think Girt would of course make me cry, but I just. Wouldn't be surprised to lose another irl friend. I'd be so fucking hurt by any. OH YEAH, what would I say? I think Sara would have me speechless. I'd probably just choke out, "I don't blame you," to Jason. Girt, my first instinct pondering this was "are you serious?" because he's such a joker while my stomach dropped. What would you do if you found out your most recent ex was in a relationship? I'd be happy for her, but still feel kinda sad that it wasn't me. What do you think when someone kisses you on your forehead? If I like the person, I feel very comforted. It like... makes me feel small, safe, and permitted to just let my emotions loose, ex. be "allowed" to cry. What do you usually do right when you wake up? Check my phone to see the time. Truthfully, is there someone you used to date that you miss? I don't want to answer this. Do the math. Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? No. Do you brush your teeth right away when you wake up? No. Have you ever made someone laugh when they were crying? Yeah. Would you date someone three years older than you? Yeah. Do you prefer to shower at night or in the morning? Actually as of recently, the morning. It's a nice way to start the day clean and energized. Could you handle living with the last person you texted? I'd love to live with her. Was the last book you read for fun, or was it for some type of assignment? It was assigned, but I loved it. Have you accomplished any goals you set for yourself this year so far? Not really? Well no, I think I'm being a less procrastinating student and also not fleeing so quickly from situations that invoke my anxiety. Are there still movie rental stores where you live or have they all gone out of business? SOBS Blockbuster come BACK we NEED u. What was the last thing to annoy you or make you upset? Eh, it was stupid and something that realistically isn't worth being annoyed by. I was SUPER bored and tired yesterday waiting for Mom to finish her field work while I waited in the library after classes, and I was so ready to go home, but she stayed longer than she thought she would. Do you think you would be a good match for your celebrity crush/es assuming you have one? Why? If you don’t have one, who was the last person you saw that you found attractive? Actually, not really. He's way too motivated and drawn to people who push forward and get shit done, and just in general at least from how I "know" him as a fan I could only realistically see us as friends. But a fangirl can dream ok just let me dream. When looking for something to watch on TV do you tend to pick shows you know you like, or try new shows that look interesting even though you’ve never heard of them before? I'll answer hypothetically if I watched TV: probably something I know I like. Might get adventurous every now and again and try something new, though, especially if it's on a channel I like. How old were you when you had your wisdom teeth removed? I haven't had to. I juuuuust slightly have enough room where I DID have them grow in. Where was the last job application you filled out sent to? Uhhh probably the deli, which I got and lasted for two hours my first work day lmao. Have you ever been fired from a job? No. What do people tell you your voice sounds like? I dunno, kinda deep for a girl and lacking an accent most of the time. What financial class are you? Lower. What poster is hanging closest to you? A huge Nightmare Before Christmas one. Are you more comfortable with men or women? Women. Would you go on a date with someone right now if they asked? Maybe if Ian did? Idk. It'd be a nice way to get to know more about each other, but I'd only agree to it after we talked a bit longer. Does your family keep tons of leftovers in the fridge? Not "a ton." Things we'll eat again though, yes. Favorite FRIENDS character? That is, if you like it. I haven't watched it. Are you thinking of getting another piercing? Where? Hell yes. Pretty sure next is collarbones if I could just lose a little bit more weight so they're more visible. Do you love when people remember little things about you? YES OMG!!!!!!!!!! Do you ‘bless’ strangers when they sneeze? Yes, I just think it's common good manner. Even though the reasoning behind it is whatever, it's a societal thing that I just go along with. How many phones have you gone through? Idk, not too many. Have you always lived in the house you currently reside in? No.
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mysticsparklewings · 4 years
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I’m Not Dead‪
I'm not laughin', You're not jokin' I'm not dead I only dress that way Out nowhere take me out there Far away and save me from my Self-destruction, hopeless for you Sing a song for California --My Chemical Romance, "Boy Division" ____ Have you heard?? Have you heard the news?? Well if not, I'm gonna tell ya: MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE IS BACK, BABY!!! :D On Halloween, we got the announcement that they will be playing a show in Los Angeles, California on December 20th. And just a few days ago we got the news that they're also going to New Zealand, Australia, and Japan which basically confirms to me they're doing so sort of tour, whether they actually call it that or not. There's still a lot we don't know for sure; whether this is just a one-time reunion tour or their official comeback tour, if we'll be getting new original music both at the shows and available for download/purchase or if they're just going to redo their existing music and covers, if it's only going to be the main four that were there at the end or if there will be some of the other members that were in and out over the years rejoining them...Where all they're going to go on this tour...the list goes on. But! The important thing, at least to me, is that they came back at all. Six years. Six years we've waited and hoped and prayed, been let down by false rumors and speculation...And now it's actually happening. I just... Hence why I had to make an art piece celebrating the occasion and as an excuse to talk about it. (I figure if I'm going to dump my opinions on the internet I might as well make some art to go with them. Sue me. ) Originally, I was planning on making something more along the lines of true fan art, as this is more pseudo fan art here, but I just couldn't settle on one good idea that I felt really comfortable pursuing. Although I am still considering doing an updated (or at least colored in) version of my Killjoys, Make Some Noise! (lineart) I did a couple of years ago...we'll see. Anyway. Since we did get the news on Halloween, it's worth noting that originally I'd been debating if I wanted to do any makeup this year at all or just slide on a mask since my only plans were going to Krispy Kreme, who was offering a free donut if you showed up in costume. But after the news broke, my decision was made for me. I had to. MCR isn't strictly associated with skeletons/skulls, as has become my preferred Halloween costume, but The Black Parade, their second album, does have a little skeleton as the leader of the marching band, and the band members did wear skeleton/skull inspired makeup during that time. Admittedly this year's makeup wasn't nearly as involved or elaborate as what I've done in years' past, but it beats last year's absolutely nothing. I ended up taking a few pictures to preserve the look, as I always do even though I rarely take photos of myself, and I would decide to draw one of them where I was trying to do this face that Gerard (the frontman and lead singer of the band) has made on a several occasions; this wide-eyed intense stare. Partly because this, I'm sure, is very close to my actual face when I heard the news that they're back, the makeup was inspired by them anyway, and also because it pairs very well with one of my favorite lines from my favorite song by them. Said line being, obviously, "I'm not dead I only dress that way," from Boy Division, as cited at the top of the description. If I'm being completely truthful, I can't even really put my finger on what it is about Boy Division specifically that makes it my favorite, as I've yet to hear an MCR song I truly do not like, but I think there's something in the lyrics of the full song that just sells it for me in combination with the high-energy music. But whatever the case, it is my favorite nonetheless. Beyond that though, it's really hard to place the rest of them in any coherent order because, at least to my ears, they're all really great. Anyway. So I went about drawing my face, erring slightly more on the realistic side than usually (but obviously not too much) in hopes of capturing the facial expression. Which, it's pretty good, but I do think it could've been a little better. I think my biggest problem was getting the eyebrows a mouth right, and I'm still not sure they're quite there since my real eyebrows are pretty translucent and the mouth was hard to balance between looking logical and more neutral than sad/angry. And I think maybe the proper expression was a little more apparent in the sketch, but it's pretty normal to lose some feeling between the sketch and the final product so that I won't discount too much. After that, I had to take a break from the drawing to think about how to color it in any style it and everything. I ended up transferring the sketch to Mixed Media paper after deciding I wanted to use alcohol markers as a base but not knowing if I'd need to adjust it with colored pencil and/or other mediums on top or not, and I did the lines with my Faber Castell Polychromos once I felt like just black lines would be too harsh and thinking colored lines would be better. Plus, the Polychromos are very non-reactive to water, so if I really wanted to I could add watercolor or something water-activated without having to worry about the lines getting messed up. I did not consider how the Polychromos would react to the alcohol markers, but other than one or two spots where the top layer of pencil kinda dissolved after some heavy layering (which was easily fixed by just going back over the lines in that area again really quickly), fortunately, it worked out okay. Although sweet sparkles I swear it took at least twice as long to actually do the lines as opposed to normal between having to apply enough pressure to get the right amount of color down and working on the differences inline weight.   Anyway. I was a little worried about some of the shading/effects I'd be doing with the markers, but I think I did alright with it. This mixed media paper (Strathmore 400 series for anyone who cares) is nice and thick, so I had plenty of room to layer up and blend as I needed to get the look I was going for. This came in especially handy around the eyes and on the nose when I told myself to at least try and get the colors like the photo before cheesing it and just using straight (or nearly) black. The only area that I think came out a little rough is really the skin, mainly the forehead. But that has more to do with 1. There isn't much contrast on the face in the photo so I didn't want to take it too far in the drawing and 2. I think I may have started slightly too dark for skin this pale. I realize that's a weird thing to say, but when you're pale as a ghost like I am, you'd be surprised how easy that is to do. And to be fair, I probably could've tried to adjust that with colored pencils, and my original plan was to add some white pencil on top in the areas of the face where a highlight would naturally hit (forehead, bridge of the nose, cheekbones, etc.)  But by the time I got done with the markers, I honestly felt like it was nice enough without any additional pencil that I thought it might be best to just leave it alone. Since I still have the original drawing, my thoughts may change on that and I could update this eventually, but for now, my decision stands. On the other hand, I was actually pretty pleased with how the hair turned out once it was colored. That is until I scanned it in. I don't know why, but the darkest shadows in the hair were too dark and too bluish on the scan, despite everything else looking fairly color-accurate. I fiddled with the scanner settings for a few minutes to try and fix it, but it became quickly apparent there wasn't much to be done about it at the level. Which meant I had to try making the adjustments in Photoshop. Now, I've done my fair share of scan-fixing, photo editing, and just color adjustments on digital art, but for the life of me I could not get things to work the way I wanted them to here. It became to the point I'm starting to suspect if the actual true-to-life shades of purple of the drawing are just really hard or even impossible for computers to capture and/or create accurately. Fluorescent colors fall in that category, surely they're not the only ones. In the end, after more time than I bothered to document messing around with settings and adjustments, and firmly decided I was not going to essentially manually re-color/shade the hair digitally, I tried the only other thing I could think to do. I took the hair, as I had been for all my adjustments since the rest of the colors were fine, on a separate layer and took all the saturation out so I was left with just the gray values. And I noted while I was at that point that it didn't seem to be an issue of the contrast between the shadows and the rest of the hair. The transition looked perfectly acceptable in grayscale. Then, I added a color layer on top of that one, clipped it to only show up on the hair, and changed it to an "overlay" layer so that I would get the values from the gray layer, but colored purple. It did take a couple of tries to get the right shade of purple for the color layer, and I'm sure it's still not 100% accurate to the IRL drawing, but it's a heck of a lot closer than it was. And this gets even weirder when you consider that just a few days before I made this drawing, I made a different one for a friend where I used the exact same marker colors for the hair, blended in almost exactly the same manner, on the same paper, and it didn't have this problem when I scanned that one in. I have never in my life. Anyway. The accessories actually didn't give me much trouble in drawing or coloring. Admittedly, I did tone down how many feathers and stuff are actually on the tiny hat for my own sanity's sake, and while I did my best with the lace on the choker, I don't have a ton of practice with drawing lace like this so I'm sure it could be improved. Although I did decide to color both of those areas (what I didn't draw/fill in with the pencils at the line stage) with a super dark blue-violet instead of a gray or straight black for the purpose of not totally hiding the linework I'd put in and to make it just slightly more dynamic. Which I think was a good call as it seems to tie in pretty nicely with the grayish tones on the face. Other than that though, I did try to stay fairly accurate with my color choices, and I think I did pretty well with that, all things considered. (Despite having a much larger selection than I did just a few months ago, I do still need a wider selection of alcohol markers in some areas just for the sake of color accuracy and smooth transitions.) Once my face was done, then came the text. I searched for a while, hoping to find an MCR appropriate font that I could hopefully add by hand, but my search came up empty. I did find one I really liked the look of though, called "Miserable." So I scanned the drawing in and after the aforementioned hair struggles, I got to play with the placement and structure of the words. I knew I kinda wanted something that just has that "I'm a logo/t-shirt emblem" kind of feel, and in the end, I think I got that. But I do think I could've planned out the drawing itself a little bit better in terms of the space left to fit the words into. I really didn't do myself a lot of favors on that one.   It has its problems, but I'm still really actually kind of proud of how this turned out...and that's really all I have to say about it. Eh, maybe I'm just really happy because I know why I made it in the first place. Now if MCR can just come within 1-2 hours of my location so I can actually go see them...please... ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram
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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years
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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Twenty-Nine: Wood ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]
It takes more than a little time to adjust.
And not just to Konoha itself, but...to village life. For over three years, Sasuke hasn’t really had a place to call home. There was Orochimaru’s lair, sure...but that wasn’t a home, or a proper town. It was a maze of rooms and hallways, subterranean, lit only by torches with air both stale and tense. It had been a place to stay. To train. But not to live.
Then he’d killed the snake sannin...or, one piece of him. Sadly, he didn’t finish the job...though he’d had his uses further down the road.
And that left him...well, not homeless, but without a place to rest. No walls. No roof. No doors to shut on the world when he wanted. He took to the road with his new team...and never looked back. Transitory, transient, he had no place to tie him down. More often than not, they’d bed down in the trees off the roadside each night of their journey, with only the boughs and the stars over their heads.
He wouldn’t admit it, but...those were some of his favorite times after leaving Konoha behind.
There’s a certain peace in the woods. An isolation, but not loneliness. Surrounded only by sounds of the environment, the animals, the trees. Insects would buzz in the quiet, water would flow, a breeze gently rustling the limbs of the forest.
So, when things just become...too much, Sasuke retreats back to that wood. Back to the silence broken only company he neither sees, nor seeks.
Konoha is still reeling after the war. Politics and politicians are abuzz like a rattled wasp nest. And Sasuke knows things will only get worse once they move in on the council in search of Itachi’s pardon, and the revelation of the Uchiha Massacre’s truth. Only then, with her shadows brought to light, can Konoha begin to heal. Truly, and deeply this time. Never again will they allow those who abuse their power into such positions. He may not be able to change the world...but Sasuke will do his damnedest to change his home.
Into something better.
...but not today.
Today, he hides away in the deeper parts of Hi no Kuni’s forests. Back against a trunk, he keeps one leg flat against the grass, the other bent at the knee to rest his new arm. Even now, he’s still conditioning the regenerated muscles to the strain of use. But for now, all he needs to do is doze in the dappled Spring sunlight that fights its way through boughs to the forest floor.
Birdsong serenades him, dueting with a nearby creek. Insects rattle and hum in a nearby bush, the wind singing softly in the leaves.
...and then...footsteps.
A single dark eye opens, but only just. They’re a ways off yet, not quite in his line of sight. Light and cautious, they’re nonetheless unhidden. Whoever it is, they’re not trying to sneak up on him...or if they are, they’re doing a piss poor job. More than likely, they’ve no idea he’s even here.
Watching idly as ears help place their location, there’s a blink as a growingly-familiar form then steps out from between the trees. Hyūga. The elder main branch sister. Otherwise known as Hinata, though they aren’t exactly on first name terms. Or rather, he isn't. She still calls him Sasuke-kun. He just calls her - and the rest of them - Hyūga. His manners aren’t exactly top form.
She seems to be looking for something. Not moving, he decides to wait and see how long it takes her to notice him. In one hand she clutches a jar, Byakugan active...but not looking his way. A brief consideration leaves him guessing she’s likely looking for an insect for her Aburame teammate. Slowly her head turns, scanning her surroundings before tensing. Eyes flicker in their sockets as she watches, slowly stalking forward...until with a snap, she claps the lid to the rim of the jar. Peering in, her shoulders relax.
Apparently, she got it.
“Konbanwa, Sasuke-kun.”
He blinks. Huh...apparently she did know he was here. Must have seen him earlier in her search. “Hyūga.”
There’s an ever-present sigh. “You really don’t have to call me that, you know. I’m just fine with you using my given name.”
Sasuke doesn’t answer. In truth, he doesn’t feel close enough to her yet to use it. Though...just because he hasn’t yet doesn’t mean he will. Making friends isn’t exactly his priority. And given how closely the Hyūga have been working with him, his brother, and his cousin...he’s not exactly eager to spend any more time with any of them.
...though her company, out of them all, is probably the most tolerable.
Screwing on the hole-peppered lid tightly, she approaches, giving just a hint of a smile. “...enjoying the afternoon…?”
“Taking a break from people.” No sense beating around the bush with her.
“I do the same...it’s so peaceful out here. Though...I guess I’m intruding, aren’t I?”
Rather than answer her question, he dodges by asking her one in turn. “What were you catching?”
“Oh! Well...there’s a beetle Shino-kun has been looking for, so...I thought I’d use a free day to look for one.” She holds out the jar. “It’s a yamatotamamushi.”
A brow perks at the name.
“They’re a very pretty green color, with red stripes!” Coming a bit closer, she crouches and offers the glass. “He wants one for a terrarium he’s making.”
Not exactly a fan of insects (though also not repulsed), Sasuke gives her a glance before gingerly accepting it. Within, marching along the bottom, is the very bug she described. Turning the jar, its color shifts and shimmers.
“Huh...guess it’s sort of pretty.”
“I thought so!” Hinata chirps in reply. “Hopefully he likes it - he’s on a mission today, so...I can’t show him until tomorrow. But it should make for a n-nice surprise.” Carefully, she tucks the little jar into the pouch clipped to her thigh.
Silence falls.
“...well, I guess I should give you your privacy back, ne?” Hinata straightens her legs, stretching a bit. “It’s such a pretty day...I’m glad I didn’t end up with an assignment. And Neji-nīsan is training Hanabi this afternoon. That left me with a rather open schedule, though...I guess now that I caught the beetle, I should probably head back.”
“Not going to stay and enjoy the weather?”
Looking to him, a tinge of surprise alights her face. “...well, I don’t want to interrupt…”
“It’s not like you’re out here making a ruckus.” Much like either of his teammates would be, were they here. “Pretty sure you know better than most of our year how to just sit and be quiet.”
There’s a blink, and then Hinata giggles into the cuff of a sleeve. “Well...most, but not all.” Pale eyes glance around. “...well, I...suppose I can stay for a bit.”
“Have at it.”
After a brief pause, she takes a few steps to another nearby trunk, settling against it facing opposite her new companion. Arms hug her knees to her chest, staring up into the limbs above her.
Sasuke watches her for a moment before settling back with a sigh, eye closing.
...maybe some company won’t hurt.
     Whoops, another late night! Today was very busy irl, and tomorrow likely will be too...but hey, I got things done!      It took me longer than it should have that wood doesn't have to mean a PIECE of wood, but...woodS, too xD Hence having a little tranquil moment with Sasuke and Hinata both. And...Hinata's new beetle friend.      Though on that note, I'd better hop to the rest of what I'd like to get done tonight! Thanks so much for stopping by!
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chibipika · 5 years
Text
Chapter 36 Retrospective
“The Lugia Chapter” is a chapter that’s been in LC almost since the beginning.  In the original, it was because Lugia had appeared to Jade several times throughout the course of the story, and it was her destiny to catch it or whatever.  Then sometime in 2003, I changed all the Legendary captures into humans being chosen by them instead.  Again, still destiny, and also Lugia was an entirely different character back then.  I might post that version someday, just know that it looks nothing at all like the current version.
Then, somehow, in 2006, I came up with Jade and Lugia’s current dynamic, with their first meeting resulting in capture/torture, and Lugia’s personality becoming sharp-tongued and irritable.  I’m not really sure how I came up with it—it seems to have sprung fully formed from the aether.  It might have been because that was around the time I was trying to think of ways to deconstruct the usual Chosen One tropes, (as the chapter itself bears a lot of hallmarks of that.)  I’m not sure if I wrote the Lugia chapter before or after I wrote the attack on Viridian in that version of the fic.  If it was after, that would technically make this the 2007 version of the Lugia chapter? Well, either way, the ideas came together in 2006.  That would make this part of Revision 9.
This version is strikingly similar to the final version that was eventually rewritten for NaNo 2015, (and published in 2019).  The writing is primitive, and several plot elements are outdated, but the general feel of it is spot-on, and a lot of dialogue actually made it into the final version.
[Oh yeah, should go without saying, but SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 36.]
<I’m afraid you’re not going down to the stadium,> a voice within my mind said.
I stopped suddenly upon hearing those words, wondering if I had just imagined them. Searching for the source, I turned to see a small, pale rose feline hovering in the middle of my room, her long tail swirling around in the air.
“Mew,” I gasped, both surprised and relieved.  “What are you doing here?  And what did you mean by that?”
<You’re not going down to the stadium,> she repeated solemnly.  <At least, not right now...>
A shiver ran down my spine when I heard her say that.  She kept staring downward, refusing to look me in the eye.  What was going on?
“Mew...?” I said cautiously, feeling both puzzled and apprehensive.
Finally the cat-like creature lifted her head and gazed long and hard at me with her large, bright sapphire eyes.  She looked concerned, with a shadow of guilt mixed into her expression.
“What is it, is there something going on with the Legendaries?  Why’d you come to me and not Ajia?” I asked, my heart beating faster from growing anxiety.  Why was she acting like this?
<Your test...> Mew spoke so faintly that I could barely make it out.
“My...test...?” I uttered blankly.
Since this chapter was sort of written out of thin air, without any of the preceding chapters leading up to it, the intro to this scene is, as expected, pretty random and abrupt.  I was fully expecting to change all of this once I had a better idea of the lead-up events.  Note is that Jade is still at Indigo, and the Moltres attack hasn’t happened yet.
<The time has come,> she concluded, raising a paw and glowing with a blue aura.  Suddenly, my entire body was enveloped within the same color of light.
“Mew!” I exclaimed as I was lifted off the floor psychically.  A flash of light suddenly filled the room, blocking out my vision, and before I could say anything, she was gone.
“MEW!!!” I shouted, but it was too late.  The glow vanished and I fell to the floor.
It took me a few seconds to realize that I had fallen not onto the carpeted floor of my room, but onto a hard rock surface.  At first I couldn’t see anything, but that was only because there wasn’t much to see.  It looked like I was inside a cave of some sort, enclosed on all sides by jagged rock walls and partially filled with water on one end.  I rubbed my arms as my senses returned and I felt how incredibly cold it was in the chamber.
“Mew teleported me…” I whispered to myself.  “…but where to?”  I stood to my feet and glanced around, seeing no possible exit.  The cavern was dimly lit, but the light didn’t seem to be coming from any visible source.  It occurred to me that the water probably flowed in here from the outside, but I had no idea how deep it went, and I didn’t have any Pokémon that could swim long distances.
“I’m trapped,” I muttered in disbelief.  “She’s trapped me here alone with no way out...”
And then a voice resounded in reply, <I wouldn’t say that you’re alone.>
It felt as though my entire body went numb, but not from the cold.  The voice was telepathic, but I could easily tell that it most definitely was not from Mew.  It was chillingly bitter, with a domineering edge to it that stuck within my head.  It was the voice that haunted all my nightmares since that day—one that I had hoped to never hear again.
In the darkest corner of the cave, two eyes, radiating blue, peered out of the shadows with an icy stare that seemed to bore right through me.  The glow slightly illuminated the creature’s face, revealing a sleek avian head with a mouth curled into a smirk.
<Welcome, human.  Are you ready to face the consequences of that day so long ago? >
Man, though, despite being written in 2006/07 this is pretty-spot on.  I can see why I didn’t change much.
My breathing was shallow and my heart was pounding.  I couldn’t move; it was like I was frozen on the spot, barely even able to think.
Lugia called me here to kill me.
There was no other explanation.  But why now? Why after so long?  This couldn’t be happening, there was no way.
I clenched my fists, swallowing hard.  It was just like last time.  This wasn’t like the Rocket conflicts, with a struggle for survival.  There was nothing I could do; I might as well have already been dead.  But…Mew…why…?
Man, you can just tell I was having so much fun dunking on Chosen One clichés. Summoned by a Legendary?  Grand, awe-inspiring, and important?  Nope!  Friggin’ terrifying!
Lugia raised an eyebrow.  <No response?  You’re quite pitiful, always letting fear control you.>
I bristled.  Had to do something, anything.  I clutched at a Poké Ball and held it up, my arm shaking.  I’d battle.  Yeah, that was it.  I’d battle, and I’d win, and then we’d find some way out.  Any way out.  We had to. I was only vaguely aware of how unrealistic that plan was, but still threw the ball forward, releasing Chibi in a flash of black.
<A battle.  You want to battle.  That’s…amusing.>
I glared at the Legendary.  Chibi turned toward me with a stunned and disbelieving expression.
“*Jade, what’s going on?  Where the hell are we, and,”—he glanced at Lugia—“why is…don’t tell me you’re…*”
“It doesn’t matter, just use Thunderbolt, hurry!”  My voice felt dry and hollow.
“*What?*” he asked, clearly confused.  All of the old Rocket situations had gotten him used to having to react immediately, even when released in odd situations, but this was too much.
“I said, use Thunderbolt,” I demanded.
He gave me an incredulous glare.  “*No.  Tell—me—what—is—going—on.*”
Lugia smirked tauntingly.  <Even the half-legend won’t obey you.  Is he tired of keeping you alive?>
Chibi whirled around to face her, strings of lightning leaping off his fur involuntarily.  Some of his electricity hit Lugia, who recoiled slightly, eyes narrowed. <Oh…touchy, are we?>
The scene breaks here, as I couldn’t really figure out where I was going with the whole Chibi bit, so I just skipped to writing the next part.  I do like the idea of Jade instinctively going for a battle (which is why I kept it for the final one), but actually sitting down to write the battle always bored me to tears (a pretty sure sign that it needed to be cut).
“Well, what is it?” I demanded brashly, angered at how she was toying with me. “You had Mew call me down here in order to get revenge, right?  Are you gonna taunt me some more or just kill me outright since it didn’t work last time?”
For a while, she gave no sign that she had heard me, and I kept waiting for her to say something and break the unnerving silence that filled the chamber.
<Are you under the impression,> Lugia began slowly and menacingly, <that I tried and yet failed to kill you on that day?>
You’ll notice that Lugia is female in this version. All the Legendaries had genders. It wasn’t until 2015 that I finally made them properly genderless.  At the time, I was sure I was never going to get used to it, and I accidentally used the wrong pronouns constantly.  But now? It’s finally the other way around. Going back and seeing female pronouns for Lugia is like, “wat, ew, stop.”  Then again, that’s kinda how these things go irl, isn’t it?
But yes, please don’t let this impact your view of Lugia now, as Revision 12 Lugia is quite thoroughly “wtf is a gender.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, as she had sounded almost offended by my words. Had Ajia been right?  Had Lugia really spared me?
“I…I didn’t think—” I started.
<That much is evident, because if you had even given it a second thought, it would seem obvious, even to you, that had I really wanted to, it would have been all too easy.>
“I know that!” I exclaimed, frustrated at how she flaunted that fact.  It was like talking to someone who had a knife to your throat.  “And after today, what does it matter?!”  I was trembling despite trying to seem unmoved by my complete lack of control over the situation.
With a very reserved tone of voice, the dragon-bird replied, <If you must know, I had Mew call you here today because I wished to speak with you in private.>
I relaxed slightly upon hearing that, but still had to wonder why Mew had looked so regretful about sending me here.
<Still, I can’t help but notice...you speak of that day as though it would have been my fault.  As if to make me feel guilty for the situation.  Do you see what I did as unjustified?>
Unjustified?  Had I deserved it? My immediate thought
Another bit where I got stuck, went “uhhh, I don’t know where this is going,” and then skipped ahead to the next part.
<Now is not the time to dwell on the past, however.  I have watched humans for a long time, often regarding your species with a wary and rather disdainful view.  Were it not for events already set into motion, the Legendaries would just as soon be the slaves of humankind.>
“What events?” I asked.
The dragon-bird raised an eyebrow, as though surprised at my ignorance.  <I was told you had read the words inscribed upon the shrine of Midnight Island.  Or did they slip your mind?>
“What, you mean that thing with the Legendaries allying themselves with eight humans?  What’s that got to do with this?”
Oh right, there were eight chosen before Revision 12.  I actually made this mistake a couple times in the current Serebii thread until I finally got used to the idea that there were only seven.
With eyes slightly narrowed, Lugia replied, <Ignorance, human.  You don’t realize the magnitude of what will happen in mere months.  This is beyond prophecies now…we have seen it with our eyes, the actions of the so-called Team Rocket.  Their strides toward power have paved the way for things to come.  Even now, it is apparent…  The eight would cause themselves to be linked with the legends by connecting themselves with those fulfilling them.  And so at the same time, linked with each other.>
I really, really loved making Lugia say “ignorance, human” in the 2007 version.  Although it is important to note that modern day Lugia still doesn’t ever refer to Jade by name.  This is intentional.
It took me several seconds to understand what she was implying.  Team Rocket’s Legendary captures were fulfilling the legends…which meant that none of the eight Chosen were predestined.  It had seemed like that from the way Ajia described how she had become Mew’s Chosen, but I always figured that the legends had to involve some complex destiny.
But why was she telling me this?
Unless…
I stared long and hard at her, unwilling to believe it…it couldn’t be possible.  It couldn’t be…
“So…so you’re saying…” I swallowed hard and continued, “that…I’m Chosen? Even after what I did?”
<Perhaps more so because of what you did, and other things among that. You have connected yourself with the Legendaries as few others of that rebellion have,> the dragon-bird answered.
I really like this bit, which is why it made it into the rewrite almost unscathed. I love that the big chosen reveal is treated as something horrifying and terrible rather than “aww yeah, I was ~Chosen by a Legendary.~”
“Because of it?  Why in the…how—” I struggled, overwhelmed at the significance of what I had just been told.
Lugia closed her eyes in frustration and said, <Let me explain this as simply as I can.  I understand that you have read the Midnight Island legend.>
“Yeah, and the Dark Crystal legend,” I added.
She paused slightly when I said that, but then overlooked it.  <Then you know that the Midnight legend tells of the Eight Guardians and the Crystal legend is just that—about the trio of crystals. You are an interloper.  You have no inherent significance in the legends whatsoever, yet your interference in the matters concerning the balance of power between human and Legendary as well as the fact that you know about the legends has forced you to become a part of them.  Fate is nothing; action is everything.  The Eight Guardians of the Order of Legends are obligated to seek out those interlopers deemed to have the strongest connection to the legends and the conflict at hand.
I can’t believe the “Fate is nothing; action is everything” dates back to this.  What started out as just a fun way to dunk on Chosen One clichés turned into one of the core themes of the entire fic.
<The one thousand year anniversary of the war shall dawn at summer’s end—the rebirth of the age of legends.  That was the only foretold event.  Everything else has merely fallen into place, both from the imbalance of power and from the intervention of those who would make sure that the legends come true.>
I didn’t have to be told who that was referring to.
oh no spoilers (…not really, pretty much everyone has guessed that’s what he’s going for.)
<No one truly knows what the new age shall bring, or how this conflict shall be resolved.  One thing is for certain—once the alliance has served its purpose, it shall be as though it never was, and the turmoil of the Revolution and the legacy of the Crystals shall reign supreme,> Lugia concluded solemnly.
“Wait, wait…you’re saying this alliance doesn’t even matter that much?” I asked incredulously.  “All it’ll do is just bide time in this stupid Team Rocket conflict until the real trouble begins?”
I should point out here that while this is still true, it has not come up in the current version.  (Notice that Lugia didn’t mention the Orb or any the writings around it at all in the current version.)
<As the legend says: ‘For though none may prevail, what is set into motion shall be much greater indeed.’>
“Do you Legendaries, like, spend all your time memorizing the legends and then interpreting them?” I asked, my tone slightly annoyed and slightly sarcastic.
I really loved this quip of Jade’s back when I wrote it. :V
Lugia was unimpressed with my insolent remark, and I could tell immediately that I had crossed the line.  <Let me tell you something, human.  The words of your little half-legend were not what swayed my decision that day.  Grabbed my attention, yes, but you are alive right now because you fit this role.  It is an honor.  Were it not for our constant ‘interpretation’ of the legends…> here she paused, unsure of how to continue.  Finally she sighed and glanced down.  I thought I’d never see a Legendary show any sign of weakness, at least not before a human.
<That so-called “resistance” would fall without Legendary protection.  If it falls, then the Legendaries will fall as well. We must protect you, so that you can protect us.  Then we all can get through these next few months alive.>
Wait, what? At first, I couldn’t figure out what she meant, but then I realized it. Neither side could survive without the other.  Then a rather stupid grin crossed my face as I said, “You Legendaries need help? From humans?”
This line too. :P
It really was quite obvious that they did, seeing as many more of them would have been captured were it not for The Rebellion—yet another fact that made Stalker’s plans rather paradoxical.  Lugia scowled, more insulted by the way I had said it than by the fact that it was true. I let the moment of immaturity drop and said, “Look, I’m honored, I really am, but…”—I sighed—“I told myself that I wouldn’t have anything more to do with Team Rocket.  I’m not even on the Resistance…why not choose someone who is?”
Lugia didn’t answer, but rather shifted her wings and gazed at me peculiarly.  I continued, “I’m tired of risking both my life and the lives of my friends.”
<Either way, you do realize of course that you’re connected to the Team Rocket matter whether you like it or not.  This is simply to determine whether you shall be a part of the deeper legendary matter at hand,> Lugia explained simply.
I really didn’t want to reply, seeing as the whole point of my training for the past year had been as a sort of escape from the Rocket mess…while the members of the Resistance continued to keep the team in check.  I leaned against the rough cave wall and stared downward, unsure of what to do.
I really was sure that the Resistance was out and about doing important things, despite having no idea how.  The decision to have the Resistance be disbanded in the current version was a pretty spur-of-the-moment one fueled by the realization that I really just didn’t know what I was doing with them.  The fic’s a lot better off for it.
<As I said before, it is not fate that has intertwined you with the legends. However…if you wish it, your significance shall go further.  It is a heavy burden, and a dangerous one, but you shall be bound only if you say so.>
I glanced over my shoulder and looked the seabird in the eye for quite a while, reflecting upon everything she had told me.  I felt as though pure guilt would end up winning me over—guilt that I was hiding from a struggle over the control of the planet, one that many of my friends had an active role in.  The last thought to occur to me, however, was what had gone through my mind that day when I had used the Master Ball cannon on Lugia: the bizarre fascination with Legendaries combined with the urge to wield that incredible power.
This is such a weird sentiment.  It really doesn’t fit Jade’s current characterization at all.
Yeah, that was it…
“I’ll do it,” I said slowly after quite a while, my voice shaking.
Lugia nodded slowly with an odd relief in her eyes, looking genuinely glad that I had agreed.  She motioned to me to step forward, and I did.  Outstretching a wing, the avian dragon touched a feather to my palm and closed her eyes in concentration.  An aura began to glow around her wing, slowly brightening and focusing itself around my hand.
Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain shot through my arm.  I recoiled back and gripped my wrist, not expecting that.  I could see that my hand was still glowing, however, and slowly, the light formed into a symbol—an outline of Lugia’s head surrounded by rolling waves.  I stared at the inscription, transfixed with awe.
I always was unsatisfied with how understated this was.  This was supposed to be a major turning point for the fic, and it was over in two sentences with a tiny jolt of pain.  NaNo 2015 was when I got the idea to expand this to be the culmination of all the pain and trauma that Jade has endured so far.
<You are marked,> Lugia said.  <With you bearing my seal, the two of us, Legend and human, are linked. With this privilege comes much responsibility.  You will find that we can communicate now, regardless of distance.  Likewise, if you are in grave danger, you may summon me to aid you, if and only if you have done everything in your power to ensure that doing so will not expose us.  But you must never call me somewhere simply for the sake of it…the consequences of such will be severe,> she added, narrowing her eyes.
I’m not sure why that last bit was necessary. I would think that if you’re trusting a human enough to be your partner, it would go without saying that they’re not going to summon you for a random battle or whatever.
Notice I said “summon.”  In old LC canon, the chosen were able to summon their patrons to their side.  This is outdated.  While Mew can teleport to Ajia’s side, even if it’s somewhere she hasn’t been previously, that’s just because she could already teleport anyway.
I winced slightly, remembering the Psychic attack that I had endured before.  Still, I nodded understandingly just as I had for her other rules.
<Most importantly of all, however…you cannot tell anyone about this.  The Order’s rules are yours to follow as well.  Do not betray the pact,> Lugia reinforced threateningly.
Unable to come up with any other manner of response, I nodded again.  But then something occurred to me and I suddenly asked, “What about Ajia?  Can I tell her?”
Lugia paused long and hard, as though unsure of what to say.  After contemplating her answer, she finally replied, <I…suppose…  The Chosen are supposed to remain a secret, even from the others, until the time is right, but…as you already know she is Chosen, it couldn’t hurt…>
This is silly.  Why should the chosen be a secret from each other.  Aren’t they supposed to help each other? And what does “the time is right” even mean.
I brightened up slightly upon hearing that—at least I wouldn’t have to keep it all to myself.  “So then the fact that I knew about her and Mew had to have played a part in why you picked me, right?”
Lugia glanced away slightly, as though she had been hoping I wouldn’t say that.  <Yes, yes it did…  When Mew told me that you not only knew her Chosen, but also knew everything about the legends concerning them, I knew that there was no going back.>
“No…going back?” I echoed.  “Why?”
She didn’t make eye contact and simply said, <Anyone with that much knowledge would be a threat.  You would either have to join us of your own will, or die.  If you had decided against becoming Chosen, I would have had to kill you.>
I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that.  But finally I knew why Mew had looked so worried when she had sent me here. She couldn’t say anything about it without my decision becoming forced.
Another detail that is surprisingly on point with the current version.  The chosen pact requiring hard consent, where any guilting or pressuring would render that consent void, was pretty important, even back then.
Lugia nodded, knowing what I was thinking.  <Mew was afraid that you would decline, given your past refusal to further involve yourself in the Team Rocket conflict.>  She then turned toward the ceiling and let out a high-pitched cry in Pokéspeech.  “*Mew! It is finished!*”
I knew that the Legendary communication had a very long range, and sure enough, there was an immediate flash of light as Mew teleported into the cavern.  The cat-like Pokémon glanced around frantically, her eyes falling on me.
<She has agreed?> Mew questioned, looking both surprised and relieved.
<The pact is complete...she is marked with my seal,> Lugia answered with a reserved tone.  But then the slightest trace of a grin crossed her face—similar to Mewtwo’s in that it looked forced, and yet oddly fitting just the same.
Mew let out a great sigh of relief.  <I honestly wasn’t sure if sending you here would be condemning you to death, but…we really had no choice.>
That didn’t really make me feel better about the whole situation, but as the danger had passed, I didn’t care.  I only nodded understandingly.  She was right…I hadn’t wanted to agree, but hadn’t known that my life rested on that decision, so it was still of my own will.
All because of that capture…  What had I gotten myself into?
Mew motioned to me and said, <I’ll take you back to your room now.>
“Oh, right…thanks…” I said, walking over.  I took one last glance around the cavern before asking Lugia, “Where is this, anyway?”
<Underneath the Whirl Islands in Johto,> Lugia replied.  <I suppose it could be considered my home.>
Mew raised a paw and the two of us glowed blue.  The last thing I saw was everything dissolving, and then a bright flash of light.  Suddenly, we were back in the stadium hotel room.  The catlike Legendary nodded to me and then disappeared once more.
Aaaand, that’s it!  The chapter went on a bit after that, but it gets into stuff that’ll come up in Chapter 37, so I’ll cut it here.
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thesilverdragoon · 5 years
Text
REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY.
I’m not subjecting anyone to this horror. Stolen from @crimsonfluidessence​
BASICS.
FULL NAME: Vesevont Nevelaux
NICKNAME: Ves, “Cap”
AGE: 49
BIRTHDAY: 15th Sun of the Second Astral Moon (March 15)
ETHNIC GROUP: Ishgardian Elezen
NATIONALITY: Ishgardian
LANGUAGE(S): Common Eorzean
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
CLASS: Dragoon (OOC only, IC a mere knight)
HOMETOWN / AREA: Coerthas
CURRENT HOME: The Mist
PROFESSION: Ex-knight of Ishgard's House Durendaire. Currently: none
PHYSICAL.
HAIR: Blond
EYES: Amber
NOSE: He has one(1) nose.
FACE: Scarred, eye bags, wrinkly, crow’s feet, a little gaunt, aged
LIPS: Probably dry to be fair.
COMPLEXION: Light or, probably just pale
BLEMISHES: We all have ‘em
SCARS: One over the right eye, one across the left cheek and nose. And others.
TATTOOS: None
HEIGHT: 6′6″
WEIGHT: Average for his height
BUILD: Lean, fit
FEATURES: He’s got pretty big ears?
ALLERGIES: Bananas.
USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Short, blond, shaved on the sides.
USUAL FACE LOOK: Resting bitch face
USUAL CLOTHING: Old knight-attire with green cloak, or his blue outfit later in SB
PSYCHOLOGY.
FEAR(S): Abandonment, his kids or friends getting hurt, Carbuncles, Voidsent
ASPIRATION(S): Being able to settle down with someone
POSITIVE TRAITS: Tenacious, Loyal, Polite, Caring, Merciful
NEGATIVE TRAITS: Reckless, Stubborn, Confrontational, Harsh, Impulsive
ZODIAC: Ironically a Pisces (Thaliak on the Eorzean calender)
TEMPERAMENT: Guarded but usually optimistic
SOUL TYPE(S): He has a soul or he wouldn’t be alive.
ANIMALS: He’d want to be a shark
VICE HABIT(S): Stress-eating, boredom eating, eating
FAITH: Unknown
GHOSTS?: Reluctantly yes
AFTERLIFE?: He hopes so
REINCARNATION?: Maybe
ALIENS?: "Who?”
POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Probably really liberal
ECONOMIC PREFERENCE: Don’t ask him things like this he doesn’t know.
SOCIO POLITICAL POSITION: Refer to the above
EDUCATION LEVEL: Life experience. (He was a knight. Cannon fodder.)
FAMILY.
FATHER: Yes; Dead
MOTHER: Yes; Dead
SIBLINGS: No
EXTENDED FAMILY: Probably
NAME MEANING(S): Vesevont is the made up version to his OC actual name, Vsevolod, which hilariously means ‘lord of everything/everybody’. It’s also a name that hasn’t been used in centuries so anyone with that name is looked at very weirdly irl.
HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: No.
FAVORITES.
BOOK: Particular towards fiction, because he likes happy endings.
MOVIE: If there were movies, rom-coms.
5 SONGS: He doesn’t really listen to music anymore
DEITY: Not currently
HOLIDAY: Maybe Starlight
MONTH: Doesn’t matter
SEASON: Spring
PLACE: The Ruby Sea
WEATHER: Warm and sunny
SOUND: The ocean, the breaking-the-sound-barrier sound Sihl makes when flying
SCENT(S): Fresh cut flowers
TASTE(S): Savory, spicy, chocolatey
FEEL(S): Warm hands on his icicle hands.
ANIMAL(S): Again, sharks
NUMBER: 13. A baker’s dozen
COLORS: Yellow
EXTRA.
TALENTS: Destroying property, taste-testing, withstanding harsh environments
BAD AT: Acting normal and well integrated into society, social anything
TURN ONS: Intelligence, Kindness, Snappy Wits and Sarcasm, Prim and Proper
TURN OFFS: Cruelty, Unforgiving..ness, All Out Bad
HOBBIES: Flying with Sihl and exploring, sometimes people-watching
TROPES: Anime-Reactions, Dopey Dad, Seems to Survive Everything
AESTHETIC TAGS: Birds, the sky, flying, the sun, dragons happy, uplifting and airy
GPOY  QUOTES: "Uh oh.”
FC INFO. (I dont know what ANY of this means.)
MAIN FC(S): 
ALT FC(S): 
OLDER FC(S):
YOUNGER FC(S): 
VOICE CLAIM(S): WS!Cap definitely was lip-syncing Ronan Harris’ voice due to the sheer multitude of VNV songs that were part of his character. But Ves specifically?? I imagine something probably deeper and more rough but I haven’t heard anything I liked in particular yet.
GENDERBENT FC(S): 
MUN QUESTIONS.
Q1: IF YOU COULD WRITE YOUR CHARACTER YOUR WAY IN THEIR OWN MOVIE, WHAT WOULD IT BE CALLED, WHAT STYLE WOULD IT BE FILMED IN, AND WHAT WOULD IT BE ABOUT?:
If it were up to me, the movie would be emulating a war movie in style, with muted and often cold colors and much darker themes and tones. Occasionally there’d be bursts of color or uplifting scenes to remind everyone that people are still human and contrast all the darker stuff, so a balance between the two. 
That’d be the most important part of it for me personally. Many references to all sorts of symbolism, though not too heavy-handed with it, allegories, metaphors, etc. To explore the spectrum of the ...for lack of better term, human condition.
Q2: WHAT WOULD THEIR SOUNDTRACK / SCORE SOUND LIKE?:
Completely orchestrated, done in a romantic style so that, in case someone weren’t watching the movie itself, they could simply listen to the music and imagine their own scene to it as the composition of said songs would ...in a perfect world, be very specifically tailored to fit certain sequences of emotion and whatnot.
And of course some violin/piano duet pieces sprinkled here and there.
Q3: WHY DID YOU START WRITING THIS CHARACTER?:
Ves is just one version of an old OC I’ve had for a long, long time. Maybe eight or so years. Give or take. He’s got several different iterations thus far.
Q4: WHAT FIRST ATTRACTED YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?:
My love for war movies and such to be honest. Along with my insane fascination and interest in historical narratives and European warfare and the like. Typically, Ves’ character is usually pulling all sorts of things from WW1 from fashion to mannerisms, and his whole world is constructed to emulate that as well (though, not set on Earth.) Not the FFXIV version of course because Ishgard is there, but other versions of him such as WS and his original counterpart.
Q5: DESCRIBE THE BIGGEST THING YOU DISLIKE ABOUT YOUR MUSE:
If I had to pick the largest thing I have against him (and I mean this character in general, not specifically FFXIV,) it’s the need for historical accuracy in most cases. I’m a die-hard for things like that and spend a lot of time doing research (usually just for fun but I get carried away easily.) Considering reference material isn’t always the easiest to find for really specific things from a time period that old, it becomes frustrating VERY quickly when I don’t feel I’m portraying him ‘authentically’ enough.
Elsewise, as far as his personality goes, he’s just like any dad. The need to always be right drives me absolutely insane. The good thing about him though is that he’s fictional and I can make him change and grow and learn. >:) Now that’s what I call sexy.
Q6: WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN COMMON WITH YOUR MUSE?:
We both love to eat and eat way too much too often and yet are like twigs. And we’re too particular about certain things.
I dunno, your characters technically are just facets of you.
Q7: HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL ABOUT YOU?:
He’d be extremely annoyed but I don’t think he’d do anything about it. I am but a CHILDE.
Q8: WHAT CHARACTERS DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE INTERESTING INTERACTIONS WITH?
Thus far? There’s Lowrey who won’t leave him alone and is always trying to wrangle Ves in like a bucking horse, and they’re VERY entertaining to watch with their weird and aggressive banter (on Ves’ part anyway, he can’t stand the guy. Lowrey just rolls with the punches with a big grin and keeps on pushing. Ves is gonna clobber him one of these days for real this time. For REAL this time.)
And then there’s Ves and Caudecus’ very polarizing and almost jarring but still extremely funny interactions with one another. They’re roommates right now so, typical roommate shenanigans, laugh track plays here. There’s something sinister hidden underneath it all and I think Caud may just get a laugh out of stabbing Ves verbally, which is also something I enjoy laying witness to.
And of course, Mei and Ves. He has NO idea who she is, he just kind of met her out there in the wilderness I suspect and thought she was weird, but she���s very fun and loves to go exploring and flying too and that’s something he can relate to. Plus Mei displays a very clear sense of justice and that is something he appreciates VERY much. She’s just whacky and weird and a mystery but he likes it and doesn’t know why. It’s probably all the pink.
Q9: WHAT GIVES YOU INSPIRATION TO WRITE YOUR MUSE?:
Anime stuff probably, war stuff. I dunno, depends on my mood for the day. I don’t need inspiration, my characters are just on a roulette wheel. Which one do I feel like using today.
Q10: HOW LONG DID THIS TAKE YOU TO COMPLETE?:
About an hour, but I had to constantly rephrase things that didn’t make sense.
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