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memoriashell · 3 years

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the luck of the draw ( surely is not in her favor )

Characters / Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru ( focused ), ft. ( some of ) Class 78

crossposted on ao3

Notes: day two of @tokomaruweek, i'm combining the killing game and talentswap prompts!! it’s still before midnight i’m totally not late at all here,

featuring my totally not original talent / roleswap luck student komaru au. because creativity is dead and i think komaru being stuck in a killing game is ??? when you think about the fact that komaru canonically sees ghosts. you KNOW she ends up possessed by one of the dead students in the last trial bc someone wants to say fuck you to the mastermind :/ also the fact that syo remembers shit but just never says anything feels like great potential!! they just want to love their partner but toko won’t let them front this is homphobia /j

anyways this au just lives in my wips rent free bc i keep changing my mind on how i want things to play out anyways. so this is more of a concept and not canon to that au if i ever finish it and that's also why this takes place in ch1 so i don't gotta think too hard on the details <3 any talents brought up are the ones i'm for sure sticking with.

tws for touko's general paranoia / anxiety / etc, mentions of murder bc kg au, and also since i usually depict syo as nonbinary with they/them pronouns, komaru’s technically accidentally misgendering them from her pov bc she doesn’t/can’t tell that syo is fronting, in case that bothers you!!

Summary: for being chosen on the basis of luck, it doesn't feel like she's ever going to catch a break here.

It’s quiet, this morning.

Not that she really knows any better— they’ve only been trapped in the school with the murder bear for a few days, after all. So maybe Komaru’s focusing on the wrong part.

It’s less that it’s quiet, there’s a few faces missing that she’d have expected to get there before her. Especially since she’d managed to sleep through her alarm again and had been kind of late; she had fully expected to be greeted with a lecture as soon as she’d gotten to the dining hall. Alright, one person specifically that stands out in her mind, but it hasn’t gone unnoticed by her that Fukawa’s not there yet. Weird, given the moral compass had lectured her for being tardy to meet up with everyone on their first day, and then for sleeping in the first morning, but...given the videos that bear had shown them the previous day, she supposes she can’t blame some people to feel reluctant to show up. Maybe that’s where she is? Going around to check on people? She had seemed a little paranoid that people were skipping out on gathering in the morning on purpose...

( Because she really, really doesn’t want to think about the possibility that Fukawa, or any of her other classmates might possibly be dead. That someone would have actually gone through with trying to kill one another? So she simply won’t think about that fact. It feels kind of like a Pavlovian...no, wait, that’s the wrong person. Uh. Freudian theory? Ah! Schrödinger’s cat. Yeah, that kind of scenario )

Okay, that settles it! She should probably have breakfast first, and if Fukawa hasn’t shown up by the time she finishes, she’ll go see if she can find her. Besides, she’s sure they aren’t the only ones who are concerned about the ones that haven’t shown up. Maizono seemed super nice ( unsurprisingly ), so maybe if she’s still hanging out in the dining hall, Komaru can convince her to help her in her search! Now that she thinks about it, she can probably ask anyone that comes by the dining hall for any leads.

...But why does she care so much in the first place? It’s not like she doesn’t care about the others: even the ones already dead— she can’t place why exactly she feels attached to people she barely knew, but she’s always been pretty sentimental. Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s the way Fukawa seems to try so hard to be close to people in one moment, and then so distant in the next.

In any case, standing in front of the fridge and spacing out is probably far from a good idea, besides the obvious fact that she’s in the way— she doesn’t even notice that someone has decided to take advantage of her distracted state to pull the wool over her eyes. Er, the hoodie of her jacket, technically.

She’s hardly gotten a chance to push the hood back before a hand comes down on her head to ruffle her hair. Or, well, she presumes that is his intention, even if the gesture comes off as more of a light noogie. She puffs her cheeks out in a pout, glaring up while the other smirks down at her. “‘Sup, squirt? Falling asleep on yer feet, or is there another reason yer zoning out in the middle of the kitchen?” The baseball star tosses an apple in his hand like one would with a ball, and she considers lightly kicking Oowada’s ankles in retaliation.

“Just thinking. You probably shouldn’t play with your food like that though.” She responds, and he makes a face at her.

“Ah, so ya do still got something still rattlin’ in that tiny head of yours, good. Worried I knocked everything outta ya.” He teases, reaching past her to open the fridge door. “An’ why would you do that to yerself? It’s still too early in the mornin’ fer that shit.”

“Well...I’m just a little worried. There are fewer people hanging out in the dining hall this morning.” She admits.

He scowls. “Pretty sure they’re just antsy ‘cause of that damn bear ‘nd if any of them have a lick of sense in ‘em they’ll be busy looking fer a way out or somethin’. Don’t worry yer pretty lil’ head about it.”

“...Yeah, I guess.” She can’t help but worry, but her concern isn’t exactly going to help right now, at any rate. Maybe she’ll just find something that she can take with her to eat. “Oh! But speaking of that, did you happen to see Fukawa-san on your way here? I would’ve thought she would have stayed around here this morning, honestly.”

“Her? Mm, yeah, heard her and Ishimaru goin’ at it in the halls earlier—”

“They were what?” Before he can finish his sentence, Asahina’s voice cuts in from behind her, pitch breaking midspeech.

“Fighin’! They were jus’ yelling at each other! N...Not anything weird!” Oowada backtracks in a panic when he realizes how poorly his wording could be misconstrued, even if such a thought never occurred to her. “Jeeze, ya think the Public Morals chick would engage in that shit? Not that I don’t think she might be a bit hypocritical with her rules ‘nd shit but—”

“No! No, I don’t! That’s why I was asking!” Asahina retorts with a huff, and while they bicker, Komaru takes this as an opportunity to slink out of the kitchen with a slice of toast. Unfortunately, Maizono seems to have left in that span of time, but the Clairvoyant happens to be sitting alone, so she figures she might see if she has anything interesting to contribute.

Enoshima opens an eye to stare at her upon hearing her footsteps, presumably, and before Komaru can even greet her, she speaks, monotone. “Four.”

Whatever question you’d planned to say dies in your throat, instead sputtering out a bewildered, “H-Huh?”

“It’s your lucky number for the day.” She sounds bored, as if she’d been stating the obvious, instead of some cryptic statement.

“...Isn’t that the number of death?” She is less certain of herself than she wants to be, ignoring the shiver that runs down her back upon realizing this.

Enoshima grins at that, for reasons she doesn’t understand; cheery voice a total 180 from what it’d been moments ago. “Well, perhaps it means you’ll be having a meeting with death today? Probably about time someone kicked the bucket, someone was bound to snap sooner or later... I’m sure your luck will kick in though, right? But I’ll wish you good luck anyways!”

“Thank you...?” Is that the appropriate response here? She’s not sure, but it’s probably not worth lingering on any longer than she already has, and decides with a rising urgency that maybe she should find Fukawa.

Although, recounting the conversation in the kitchen, she wonders if she should check on Ishimaru as well. Neither of them really struck Komaru as the kind to fight ( with their fists, at least, Fukawa’s mouth seemed set on picking a fight half the time ), so to say she was a little concerned might be an understatement. Given the writer had a tendency to be more openly friendly she could probably get a straight...well, an honest answer from him as to what had happened.

But she wanders for what feels like ages, and doesn’t have any luck ( haha, the irony ) in finding any hint as to where either of them might have gone, and decides to stick to her efforts to find Fukawa first. Ishimaru seemed like the type to be more resilient, so maybe she can catch him around their next meal time. If he didn’t lose track of time again, at least...

Ugh, she’d kill to honestly run into anyone around here. Not literally kill, obviously, but for reasons she’s been trying to keep quiet on, she really hates wandering the halls alone: or most places that they can access right now, to be honest. She keeps seeing this one ghost this one ghost in particular ( or at least Komaru is pretty sure she’s a ghost ), but she refuses to acknowledge her hanging around because that would be weird, and she would like to seem normal and if someone saw that it’d be a hassle to explain.

Fortunately, her search finally turns up fruitful when she finds Fukawa spacing out in the A/V room.

...Unfortunately for her, finding Fukawa earns her a pretty close brush with death. In the blink of an eye, a pair of scissors are thrust against her throat, pinning her back against the moment she steps into the room.

Oh. Uh. Oh god? Was Enoshima actually right about that? Her breath catches in her throat and for a moment, she wonders who would find her if she was killed here. Would they care? What about her parents— Makoto?

Would they sigh and just ponder if she’d ever been lucky at all?

And just as quick, the cold metal is pulled away from where it rests against her neck. “Oh. It’s just you.” The words are spoken with more warmth than she can ever recall hearing Fukawa speak with, which is really weird considering what just went down.

Ever so smartly, Komaru doesn’t actually process what is said to her, and responds with, “Isn’t that technically against the rules?”

A thin eyebrow is raised at her, scissors being tucked away under her shirt. Uh. “No? That’s what they want, right? Or are you so naive that you think that everyone would really follow the rules?”

Well. She’s probably not entirely wrong in thinking that she’s naive, but... “Isn’t, uhm. Isn’t that your thing, though? The rules?”

Fukawa looks startled to have this pointed out to her, for some reason. “Oh, hahaha, yeah. T-Totally! I was just...uh, testing you.”

Okay, now she’s just downright acting strange? Komaru’s willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that maybe she’s just acting odd because the videos are weighing on her mind. They are in the AV room, after all. Something doesn’t add up though, but she can’t quite place what it is...

Komaru opens her mouth to ask the other a question, but when she looks back over at Fukawa, her expression has gone kind of...distant? Hazy? She doesn’t quite know how to describe it, and begins to ask if she’s feeling okay when the other girl sort of...collapses into her, arms going around her loosely. She panics a little because that can’t be a sign of anything good, right? Is she feeling dizzy? She’s not passed out, and at least she’s breathing normally. She’s surprisingly pretty light, so it’s not like it’s really an issue to just help support her until she feels better.

The only warning that she gets is the feeling of the other girl tensing up before Fukawa suddenly bolts upright and shoves herself away. Komaru frowns a little, not because of the sudden change in attitude ( if anything, she finds that strangely reliving ), but moreso out of concern, attempting to reach her hands out to help steady her on her feet, but gets her hands slapped away before she can do so. “Don’t touch me.” She hisses.

Okay she’d be lying if she said that didn’t sting, but she can’t help but laugh for a moment. “Ahaha— sorry, I’m not laughing at you. For a moment there, you seemed like a completely different person! I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Fukawa-san.” If she were more aware of the situation, she might feel more guilty for being unintentionally insensitive: but as she doesn't, she simply misses the way the other looks nervous for a moment while she wonders what that had been all about ( but can’t quite gather the nerve to actually ask ).

“Y-Yeah, real likely story. You just...just came to l-laugh at me in a moment of weakness, r-r-right?” She glares, hands clenched. “I know your type! No one is...is actually that nice w-without some kind of ulterior motive.”

Is that what she actually thinks about me?

“No! I really am glad to see you’re feeling better. You really had me scared there for a minute.” She says sincerely, offering her a reassuring smile. “If you want, I’ll listen to whatever’s bothering you. It’ll stay between us.”

Fukawa scowls, watching her for a long minute with a guarded expression. “There w-was something on the, uh, disc that Monokuma gave you, right? Just like— like everyone else?”

Huh? Well, if this is what it takes to get her trust, then she supposes she can talk about it... “Yeah. It was my parents and my older brother. It’s...kinda scary to think about, honestly. What about you, Fukawa-san? Was it also your family?”

“No. M-M-Mine was blank. Because...because there was no one to choose. Or so he says.” Her jaw is clenched. “Of course, I had to— I acted like I was the same as everyone else, b-because it’d be strange if I didn’t, right? You’d think I was, was working with them or something...everyone would really hate me after th-yhat.”

“Uhm, I’m pretty sure Togami-san didn’t even blink an eye...?” She tries to bring up as a counterpoint, but apparently she has more to say.

“A-A-And before you ask, it’s not like they’re wrong about that, so...so it didn’t surprise me to here it. But everyone got s...something similar, right? All these personal th-things about us...just how much do they really know? How are we supposed to act like, like this is all normal when they’ve got that kind of leverage over us...!”

Oh. She’s shaking— she’s scared. She’s been putting up a front? Komaru puts two and two together after a moment, gently taking the other girl’s hands in her own. This time, she doesn’t get pushed away.

“I’m scared too.” She admits. “Thinking about it like that is scary. But that’s what they want from us, right? To make us scared, so we act the way he wants us to, right?”

Fukawa remains silent, but the conflicted look on her face at least indicated that she was paying attention to her and not ignoring her like she might’ve feared. Komaru squeezes her hands in an attempt to be reassuring. “But you think we’ll all get out alive, right? So no matter what, as long as you believe that, no matter what they might know we’ll be okay. And if you don’t think you can do that on your own, I’ll be right here to support you. So we’ll definitely get out alive, it’s a promise...!”

“You...You really don’t know wh-wh-what you’re saying.” She mutters under her breath, but Komaru takes it in stride with a grin.

“That’s not a no!” It’s not a yes either, but Fukawa doesn’t humor her in further acknowledging the subject: it doesn’t really mater, because Komaru sees a hint of what might be called a smile in her gentle expression.

Yes, at least with one of your peers, you are sure you’ve grown a little closer with today ( and for today, that is a good enough start ).

#tokomaru week 2021 #tokomaru #toukomaru #komaru naegi #touko fukawa #toko fukawa #danganronpa #* zhi writes #listen!! i think thh protag komaru has potential and she deserves those rights

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xadoheandterra · 4 years

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Series: Semblance Title: Patriciate Fandom: Jak and Daxter Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI Characters: Jak, Daxter, Samos, Keira, Kid!Jak, Ashelin, Torn, Tess Tags: Worldbuilding, Accidentally King of Haven!Jak, hurt/comfort, things go wrong, things get better, things get worse again, slow build, slow burn, slow to update, cross posted, fantasy racism, canon divergence, been meaning to share this here Summary: “It’s yours,” Jak said softly. “Keep it…remember where you come from. At least one of us should remember….”

If Jak knew the consequences of that one, selfish choice…well, he’d probably have made the same decision either way.

This entire mess is Ashelin's fault, and everyone else is just along for the ride.

“This is a bad idea!”

Jak paced relentlessly around the room, fingers dug into his hair making the mess that Jak called a style even worse. He pulled a few strands loose, lips pressed thin and dark eco boiling under his skin. Thankfully he’d yet to start sparking, but to Jak just the burn of the eco alone fueled his panic.

“Jak, it’s the only shot we’ve got,” Ashelin said. She sat cross legged on the couch, elbows on her knees.

Jak shook his head sharply, turned on heel, and growled out, “I didn’t think you’d mean something like this!”

From the wall, Torn sighed. He shot a glance to Ashelin, and then to the agitated teenager and shook his head. This conversation wasn’t going as well as the first, and Torn only figured it’d get worse the more Ashelin pressed. Sometimes she didn’t know when to leave well enough alone—Torn couldn’t fault her for it, really, not when she’d grown up with Baron Praxis as a father.

“Ashe,” Torn chimed in as Jak made another turn, growled, pulled out a bit more hair, and sparked with dark eco. Yeah, this was getting worse. “I think you should go.”

“Torn there is still too much we need to talk about, that Jak needs to know,” Ashelin cut in and Torn sighed. She wouldn’t leave unless she got her way, he could see that. He shot another glance to Jak and pushed off from the wall.

Ashelin, you’ll just have to settle for not getting your way for once, Torn though with a sigh, and then grumbled incoherently as he stalked over to her and pulled her up by the arm.

“Torn! What are you doing!?” Ashelin demanded. She tried to pull herself free, but Torn held her fast. His grip bordered on bruising, but for once Torn decided not to be gentle. If Ashelin lashed out at him, so be it. They could grapple it out right there, but if there was anything Torn knew it was that right now Ashelin needed to be out of the room.

“Escorting you out of the room before the shit hits the fan,” Torn said lowly and dragged Ashelin towards the door. She put up a struggle, but not much of one. Torn found himself thankful for that. He didn’t want to find out who would come out on top in a fight. “Let me handle this, Ashe.”

“But—”

“No,” Torn snapped, opened the door, and unceremoniously shoved her out. “I’ll call you when he’s calmed down.” The door slipped shut in Ashelin’s face. Torn waited for a moment; held his breath. Would Ashelin push it? Nothing happened at first, just silence on the other side of the door. Then suddenly Ashelin slammed her fist into the metal; it rang loud enough that Jak jerked with a snarl on his lips, eco sparking around him almost like a cloud.

“I’ll get preparations ready,” Ashelin said sharply. “And next time don’t touch me like that, Commander.”

Torn snorted. “Yes, ma’am.” He waited a moment longer, and then relaxed when he heard Ashelin finally leave. Exhaustedly Torn ran his hand down his face and tried to muster his courage to face Jak. Honestly this entire thing was such a mess, and if it weren’t the fact that the necks of his men were on the line he wouldn’t have even agreed to go along with the crazy plan Ashelin and Samos cooked up.

“Sit down, Jak,” Torn said as he turned around, but Jak didn’t listen. He paced and pulled at his hair in equal measure and Torn wanted to wince at the mess that spiraled out of Jak’s scalp. They had a lot of work ahead of them, and Torn knew it’d be like pulling teeth the entire way.

“This is insane, Torn. You know that!” Jak snarled, and twisted. His eyes were tinged black when he shot a look at Torn.

Torn shook his head. He made a step towards Jak, slow so as not to spook the teenager. “Look, it’s just a suggestion. You don’t have to go through with it if you don’t want to. We can find another way. You still have a choice in this, Jak.” Lying to calm down a berserker, not the brightest of ideas you’ve had there, Torn grimaced.

Jak’s eyes narrowed, and like Torn he could tell the lie when he heard it. Torn kept his face impassive despite the fact that even saying the words made him want to punch himself in the face. There wasn’t another option, and Jak knew it. Torn knew it. The only reason why they were going through this mess was because there wasn’t another option.

After a moment of a stare down between the two, Jak snorted and turned away. He uncoiled a bit, muttered petulantly, “That’s a nice sentiment.”

Torn barked a laugh. “Yeah.”

With that, all of the fight just seemed to leave Jak. He flopped onto the couch, leaned forward until his head was between his legs. Torn never saw the kid before look so defeated. It didn’t sit well with him at all. He forced a calming breath out and took a step, and then another, until he knelt down in front of Jak and poked the kid’s forehead until he looked up.

“I don’t like this as much as you,” Torn said carefully.

“Thanks,” Jak grumbled.

“I don’t like that you’re not really getting a choice,” Torn amended. “It’s…Mar, Jak, this is a shitty situation. If there were any other way….”

“But there isn’t,” Jak sighed. “We’re just…gonna leave it up to fucking luck.”

Torn shook his head. “The Shadow is certain you’re the heir to the House of Mar.”

“I was just some kid he took in off the street,” Jak said back sharply. “I could have found that little trinket you all took as a sign of my supposed heritage.”

“You could have,” Torn agreed, “except that the Shadow said Mar’s Tomb recognized you as the heir.” He watched Jak grimace, and then winced himself. Shit, he shouldn’t have brought up the tomb. Bringing up the tomb brought up the mess afterward and that can of kangarats shouldn’t be touched. Torn shook his head, turned, and sat down with his back against the couch tiredly. “I’m not saying it’s not a shitty damn plan. As far as ideas go this is the worst one I’ve heard yet, but Ashelin’s sure of it, the Shadow’s sure of it…and hell, if it works….”

Jak groaned and dropped his head between his knees again. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“You’d better start thinking about it,” Torn sighed. “Or we’re all fucked.” He paused, then added with exhausted humor, “Hell we were already fucked from the start, planning on placing a goddamn kid on the throne….”

“Was that plan before, or after you were going to send a four year old through the ‘trials of manhood’ that included traps that can kill a person?” Jak quarried dryly. He raised his head to look over at Torn.

Torn shrugged, “Hey, that wasn’t my idea.” He glanced to Jak. “For the record I was against that one.”

“Good to know you have some morals,” Jak rolled his eyes. Torn snorted.

“Yeah, well, the KG fucks with everyone no matter how long you’re in for,” Torn said with bitter humor. He rubbed a hand along his neck and shook his head with a sigh. Next to him Jack massaged his temples.

“How long do I have, Torn?” Jak asked.

“I don’t know. A few hours, maybe?” Torn grimaced. Ashelin wanted to push this whole thing through as fast as possible. They’d only first brought the subject up barely the night before last and since then it’d been a whirlwind of preparations. Jak, thankfully, had been rather amenable in the beginning—at least until he got the full details out of the young Baroness. Then the childish petulance settled in and Torn found himself actually missing Jak’s little rat.

If it weren’t for Jak’s insistence that Daxter spend as much time with Tess—Torn didn’t even want to contemplate whatever Tess was doing with the rat, it made his teeth ache—then Torn was certain he’d be right here. In fact he’d probably be a complete nuisance, but then maybe Jak wouldn’t have been ready to eviscerate Ashelin minutes ago. Or he could have egged Jak on, Torn wasn’t sure which it would be.

Jak groaned and leaned back. “Dax is gonna hate me.”

Torn looked over at the kid in surprise. “What? You mean you haven’t told him?” He thought they shared everything with each other. Hell if he didn’t know better he’d have thought they were something more than whatever it was they were to each other.

“Haven’t really had the chance,” Jak mumbled. “He’s probably worried sick.”

“Shit.”

Torn could feel a migraine coming on. He didn’t look forward to the eventual, ensuing explosion that would happen when Daxter would find out. Mar, this was turning into quite the mess.

“You’re going to give me grey hairs before I’m fucking thirty,” Torn grumbled.

“I thought you were thirty,” Jak quipped back and Torn groaned. At least they were past the petulant stage now, if anything, which meant they could probably get the preparations on the road.

“Knowing Ashelin she’s making sure the council chambers are ready,” Torn groaned and heaved himself up. “She’s already gotten the tailor’s things and they’re in the closet.” Torn gestured haphazardly to the closet. “Which just leaves one thing for us to really work on.”

“I hate those clothes,” Jak grumbled. “Why can’t I just go as I am?”

“Because you look like something dragged out of the sewer,” Torn pointed out.

“I was dragged out of the sewer,” Jak countered with a scowl. It wasn’t a lie, he’d been down hunting metal heads and barricading holes in the sewer system for a few hours earlier.

Torn shrugged. “Up soldier. You need a bath, then you need to get dressed,” and here Torn grimaced, “and apparently I’m now in charge of your hair. For Mar’s sake do you ever brush that mess?”

Jak was quiet for a moment, and then he glanced over to Torn with a sort of sheepish smile. “Dax uh usually does that.”

Torn stared at Jak dumbfounded for a moment, before he sighed irritably. “You, kid, are a pain in my ass.” He scrubbed his face. “Shower. Now.”

“Alright, alright,” Jak grumbled. “I’m going.”

Torn breathed in through his nose as Jak’s fingers, sharpened into fine points but thankfully not into the length of claws they could become, dug into the soft tissue of his upper thighs. He kept his hands on Jak’s hair, tugged and parted stands, and as carefully as he could worked in a de-tangle-r to get better purchase. Throughout the entire endeavor so far Torn had kept up a steady commentary even as his voice grew hoarser and his breathing harder.

“You should seriously think about cutting this all off,” Torn grumbled. He kept his face, his chest—every part of him except his hands and his thighs which let Jak know just how far away Torn was, as far away from Jak as possible. The still slightly bleeding slice across his abdomen had been warning enough the first time he’d gotten to close.

Jak grit his teeth and squeezed Torns thighs with a hissed, “No,” that sounded more guttural and animalistic.

Torn shook his head. “Honestly Jak this is just ridiculous.” Torn wasn’t quite wheezing yet, but he found it to be a near thing.

“Then stop messing with it,” Jak snapped back. His head twitched, which pulled Torn’s hand, which pulled Jak’s hair, which lead to Jak letting out a sharp howl of surprise. Pitch black eyes turned back accusingly at Torn, who jerked his hands free.

“If you’d quit moving this would be over faster!” Torn snapped, hands up to show Jak he didn’t mean harm. “And if you keep firing off that Mar forsaken eco you’re going to ruin your clothes!” For a moment he couldn’t catch his breath, and Jak shot him a concerned look as his voice petered out into a hoarse whisper and a wheeze, but Torn stood firm. He was fine.

Jak huffed; the black didn’t leave his eyes and Mar was it weird to see concern within the black of what everyone called a monster. Jak’s nails didn’t return to normal either, and his skin remained eerily pale. Still Torn found himself capable of once more working on Jak’s hair with a grumbled, raspy sigh even as the teenager shifted—this time thankfully just his body—uncomfortably.

“It sits wrong,” Jak growled. Torn could easily imagine him with a pout, eyes glued down at his clothes.

“Welcome to Haven nobility,” Torn said back sarcastically, voice just a tad stronger, “where everything is impractical.”

Jak whined and his fingers let up from Torn’s thighs. Torn sighed in relief, carefully portioned off another piece of hair, and began the torturous braiding and wrapping process that he’d worked so diligently on since Jak came out of the shower, dressed.

“I feel overbalanced,” Jak whined, and tugged at the channeling ring that previously sat over his chest. Now it settled square in the middle of his waist and took up a good chunk from his hips to his ribs in thick leather.

“Stop that,” Torn swatted Jak’s hands away from his waist absentmindedly. He sucked in a breath and it made a sort of whistle. Shit, Torn winced, but continued as if nothing sounded wrong. “You’ll tear the leather.”

“This is stupid,” Jak said back, and shot him another glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah well if you’d just sit still,” Torn growled in response.

At least Jak didn’t feel like he’d go off on a hair trigger anymore. When they first started Torn honestly feared for his life with how tense the teenager grew with each movement. He didn’t want to think of the reason behind Jak’s automatic, practically instinctual response to being touched in what should have been a fairly platonic manner.

“I’m going to fall on my face if I get up,” Jak complained.

“You didn’t fall on your face once from the bathroom to here, Jak,” Torn grumbled. “You’ll be fine.” He tried to catch his breath, and thankfully it didn’t hurt when he finally did.

Torn portioned off another section of hair and went to work. His fingers moved with long practiced ease through Jak’s locks, and a part of him felt greatly pleased that Jak’s hair was quite clearly designed for the twists and braids. If he’d had hair like Erol’s there would have been more of a problem than a few new scars from clawed fingernails.

“Can’t we just call this thing off?”

“It’s too late for that,” Torn sighed.

Both boys jerked towards the door as it slid open. Ashelin stepped into the room and she looked hurried.

“Torn I—” she lifted her head and then froze, before she sharply shook it once. “We have a problem.”

Jak tensed back up and Torn sighed. Great. Couldn’t anything go just right today?

“Ashe now is not a good time,” Torn growled.

Ashelin placed her hands on her hips and scowled right back at him. “Well I wouldn’t have come in here if you had picked up your communicator soldier.”

Torn pressed his lips thin and focused on Jak’s hair and tried to ignore how stiff Jak was in front of him.

“Get on with it, Ashe,” Torn grumbled, silently noted how Jak’s ears pressed back, and carefully dragged his nails along the section of hair he’d already finished. Jak surprisingly relaxed minutely at the touch.

Ashelin shifted from hip to hip and looked towards the window, her lips pressed thin. She didn’t speak and Torn focused entirely on Jak’s hair which for now seemed to keep Jak for the most part still. He didn’t want a repeat of earlier, especially not when the kid sat between his legs and had already injured him as it was.

“It’s missing,” Ashelin said eventually, her voice practically a whisper.

Torn froze, and then with an extremely hoarse wheeze he said, “What?”

In front of him Jak twisted. He pulled his hair out of Torn’s grasp, reached down for the small respirator that sat attached to his shirt and lifted it up over Torn’s face. Torn shot him a momentary glare—Tess had to have told him to do that, damn her. He could take care of himself! Granted breathing did feel easier with the respirator over his face, but having one of his men—and Jak would be one of his men Mar dammit—take care of him always felt a bit awkward in some respects. Still with a huff Torn took the respirator back and focused onto Ashelin. Jak’s hair was almost done anyway and it’d be better to get this potential mess dealt with first.

We’re going to die. Torn grimaced.

“Ashe, what are you talking about?” the commander questioned.

Ashelin licked her lips. “The seal. The one they use for—it’s gone, Torn. My father must have—I can’t believe I didn’t think of it—” the proud Praxis heiress seemed to deflate almost instantly and Torn wanted to quit everything. Life, the guard, this entire mess.

I need a vacation.

“What do you mean it’s missing, Ashe?” Torn said instead, the words ground together like glass in his throat.

Jak glanced between them. “What’s missing?”

“The artifact that’s used to prove heirs to the House of Mar,” Ashelin explained. “Historically it’s been nothing more than a display really. The line of succession has never really been in question before now. At least not that I know of.” Ashelin turned to Torn. “It’s missing.”

“Praxis had something to do with this?” Jak questioned.

“We don’t know that,” Torn interrupted.

“But it’s something just like my father to do,” Ashelin grimly said.

Torn rolled his head back. He wanted to curse ‘children’ even as he tugged away the respirator, it’s job done for the time being.

“There has to be something else, Ashe,” Torn said. “Anything.”

Ashelin trembled. Dammit Torn wanted to drag her over to the bed and wrap her in his arms, she was Mar damned trembling. Ashelin didn’t tremble. Torn dragged his hand down his face and waited, ears primed to hear what she would say.

“It was the only option we had left,” Ashelin’s words were a whisper. Torn spat out a curse so sudden that Jak jolted and tumbled off the bed. Ashelin, over by the door, snorted faintly at the site. Jak merely lifted up one of his middle fingers in response as he pushed himself up with a huff.

“I told you I’d overbalance,” Jak said to Torn.

“Why was it the only option?” Torn questioned. “Aren’t there other artifacts from Mar’s era laying around the city somewhere?”

Jak huffed from the ground, rolled his eyes, and pulled himself up to his knees as Torn and Ashelin talked. Torn wanted to tell the kid to shut up for a moment, that this was serious, but he held himself back. Jak had finally relaxed enough that his eyes were back to normal and even though he looked a little silly, clothes rumpled and hair half done, this conversation was just as important as Jak’s wellbeing.

“Any other artifacts have been missing since before I was either born, or,” Ashelin shrugged. “The only other two I can think of are the Heart of Mar or the Ruby Key, but both disappeared when I was a child.”

Jak, now on his feet, rubbed nervously at the back of his head. “Uh, I know where the Ruby Key is.”

In unison Torn and Ashelin turned, voices practically echoing, “You do?!”

Jak coughed. “Yeah uh…let me call Dax.”

“The rat has it?” Torn wanted to scream.

“No, Tess has it locked up,” Jak snapped back. “Which was Daxter’s idea.”

“How did you get it?” Ashelin demanded. “Where was it? When did you—”

Torn slipped off the bed, around Jak—he slipped his comm into Jak’s hands as he did so—and more gently than earlier grabbed Ashelin and pulled her out of the room.

“Question him on it later,” Torn said under his breath. “The kid’s under a lot of pressure as it is.”

“He’s under a lot of pressure?” Ashelin hissed. “I’m the one trying to make sure you all live!”

Torn sighed. “Ashe. Not now,” he said sharply. “Just…stall. I will call you.”

Ashelin stared up at him, huffed, and stormed from the room. Torn closed his eyes and knew that would just bite him in the ass later.

Daxter lounged on the bar, behind the lip where Tess mixed drinks for the Naughty Ottsel’s patronage. Ever since Jak waltzed in, told Daxter to spend the day with Tess and that he’d handle anything Torn threw at them himself, and then waltzed back out the ottsel moped. Occasionally he’d grab a bottle and drink from it until there wasn’t anything left, but for the most part he just stared at the acohol in melancholy

“Jak jus’ don’ do this, Tessy,” Daxter moaned again. His eyes remained firmly on the head of Kor that nestled above the mirror.

“I know shnookims,” Tess cooed back, “but maybe he just wants you to get your hero’s reward after all the work you’ve done?”

“Yeah…ya th’ bes’ babe,” Daxter mumbled and rolled over. He grabbed a bottle and pulled out the cork and took a swig.

“Anything for my darling,” Tess said back and scratched behind Daxter’s ears in just the right spot to make him feel better.

They lapsed back into silence with Tess serving drinks and Daxter focused on the bottle between his hands—paws? He still wasn’t used to the whole ottsel thing even if it’d been almost three years now. Oh he certainly found himself better with the transformation now, more comfortable in his skin than he’d been when it first happened, but that didn’t mean Daxter didn’t miss being tall and elfin, or even the buck teeth. Precursors did Daxter miss having his buck teeth. He never expected to miss that part of himself at all.

“It’s jus’,” Daxter began again after Tess shoed a patron over to one of the booths. “It’s jus’ Jak’s not been ‘round since th’ party, y’know? An’, an’ that s’not like ‘im.”

“Maybe Jak’s taking a break, too,” Tess pointed out cheerfully. “It has to be busy work being your sidekick, right?”

“Yeah! Definitely!” Daxter replied. He almost knocked the bottle over, but stopped himself before he could. It’d be a waste of perfectly good alcohol. Tess scratched behind his ears again, and once more they lapsed into silence between them.

Daxter liked that he and Tess could just coexist like this when it came down to the wire. They flirted, they enjoyed each other’s company, and then they could just be with one another. It felt like a slice of home that Daxter sorely missed—now if only he could get rid of the ottsel shape then everything would be absolutely perfect!

Behind the counter Tess’ Underground communicator began to go off. She said to Daxter distractedly, “Can you get that whiskerpuss?”

“Sure Tessy-baby!” Daxter nodded once, set the bottle down, and hopped off the counter. He furrowed his way underneath the bar and found the small device. He scowled when he saw the idea. “Ugh, what does the Tattooed Wonder want now?” Daxter grumbled but quickly smashed the button to answer the call. “Whaddya wa—”

“Oh thank the precursors, Dax!” Jak’s voice came through loud and clear, and Daxter paused.

“JAAAAAAAAK!” Daxter yelled and suddenly had the communicator in a death grip. Any vestiges of alcohol induced haze left him immediately. “Where the hell have you been?” Daxter quickly launched into a full tirade, berating Jak for leaving him behind while alternatively demanding to know if he was okay and just where the hell had he gotten his skinny ass to.

On the line Jak sighed. He let Daxter go off for a little bit before he started to interject. Jak’s voice steadily raised higher and higher, repeating a mantra of “Dax,” with the hope of getting the ottsel to shut up.

“DAX!” Jak snapped in the end.

“WHAT?!” Daxter yelled back.

“TAKE IT OUT BACK BOYS!” Tess followed the raised voices and quickly shoed Daxter out from the front room of the bar. Daxter put on a show of beleaguered acceptance until the door swung shut behind him, both Jak and himself silent after Tess’ reprimand.

There was a moment as the door slipped shut and the hum of the Naughty Ottsel faded before Jak mumbled, “Tess is scary.”

“Damn straight!” Daxter cheered. “That’s my girl!” Jak laughed faintly on the other end. “Now what did you want from the great Orange Lightning,” Daxter drawled out. His voice hit the familiar, low raised pitch that reminded both teens of better days.

“Let’s go back and see the geologist,” Daxter drawled out in Jak’s ear, and Jaked huffed a laugh back.

“I need you to get the key and bring it up to the Palace, Dax,” Jak said. Daxter jerked out of fond memories with a blink of surprise. He stared for a moment at the communicator, as if it had betrayed him, certain he’d heard wrong. “Dax? Hello?”

Daxter squeaked, “The Palace?!”

“Yeah that’s what I—”

“What the HELL are you doing at the fricken Palace Jak!?” Daxter shrieked.

“Look I’ll explain later,” Jak said quickly. “Just…can you get the key and bring it here? Please? Ashelin will meet you at the entrance.”

“Nuh uh, not until you explain your ass here buddy!” Daxter shook his head rapidly. “I’m not doing a thing until I get my answers!”

Jak huffed, and then growled a short, “Dax. Please.”

For a moment Daxter didn’t say anything, and then he sighed. “Fine, but I’m not givin’ the key to Ashelin! She’ll jus’ hafta escort me up to you where ya can explain away.”

“Dax…” Jak didn’t quite whine, but it was a damn near thing. Daxter quirked a smile. Oh yeah, he almost had him where he wanted him.

“No way buddy. Do it my way or don’t do it at all!”

For a moment Jak didn’t say anything. Not a peep came through the communicator. Daxter leaned back against the wall, a smug smile across his face. He could already tell what Jak was thinking. He knew the blond as well as he knew himself, and what he knew was that Jak’s little brain right now just happened to be racing through the multiple ways he could attempt to wheedle Daxter into doing what he wanted. Then Jak would remember the ways Daxter would counter Jak’s wheedling and how, ultimately, Jak would give in.

“…fine,” Jak murmured, “but Dax? Be nice.”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about me, baby,” Daxter laughed. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“….that’s what I’m afraid of.”

#fic: patriciate #fanfic #fic: semblance #jak and daxter #crossposted #accidentally king of have #canon divergence #wip

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dr-astormylasthurrah · 4 years

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DR:ASLH AMA (10/21/2020)

so today i decided to sit down and answer a whole bunch of questions on discord!

this DOES contain spoilers up through the end of ch5, just a warning! if you’re on mobile i’m so sorry.

Who is your favorite character?

THAT IS THE MEANEST QUESTION YOU COULD EVER ASK DID YOU KNOW THIS. This varies a lot depending on the day but usually... tied Chiyo/Tatsumaru. I love them both so much. I think Ryouji's my favorite to write, though. If ASLH were someone else's story, I think my favorite would undeniably be Chiyo, because I'm nearly always biased towards protagonists.

What’s been the most enjoyable part of the story process? Why?

Honestly? Getting to see how people react to it. It's the validation luv. Maybe it's selfish, but I really do like seeing how people are affected by my work LOL.

who is on what side of the pineapple on pizza discourse?

Likes it: Amal, Kanemori, Claude, Aster Neutral: Tristan, Tatsumaru, Sentarou Hates it: Ryouji, Chiyo, Ririka, Brendan Doesn't like pizza: Tiana, Hirono, Alexei, Tsukino, Iris Ryouji, Chiyo, and Ririka make fun of Amal.

For the trials of aslh, which trial has been your favorite so far? In terms of planning the case itself, plot beats, character developments, anything really. But which one still makes you lose it when you think about it.

That's a tough one, I don't like writing trials. I liked the structure of ch3, though. The way that the trial stops being "who killed Amal" and instead becomes "who is Aster". The Tatsu POV. The story title drop. And the way the execution just wrecks everything, immediately? Yeah, vibes.

I also feel like ch4's trial deserves a special mention because of how I wrote it while I was sick with the flu, and yet if you ask me that was still probably the most emotionally intense trial- wait I forgot ch2- and ch5- y'know what, forget it. At least it's on par!

If you could change anything about aslh on any level, what would it be & why?

In general, I think it needed more planning. I'm a very on-the-fly planner and writer, but there were a lot of unknowns I didn't consider until late-game that made it hard to bring up and resolve cleanly. It could also probably have used a little bit more clarity with regards to the lore - things like "how does the memory replacement work" weren't decided until super late in the project. I didn't have a backstory for Tatsu until I wrote ch2 or ch3, so before that point their scars were much less extensive and I think they were cut-shaped instead of burns? That was kind of important for at least continuity's sake, and it irks me.

Also, Hirono deserved better. I didn't plan out her arc as extensively as the others (she was, pre-story, the last survivor to be locked and she had traded with Kanemori), so she sort of stagnated in the story. Which wasn't a bad thing, because not everyone's going to get shoved off a balcony or watch their friend get shot, but it kind of sucks that the most "defining" moment she had was that Ririka and Iris died, neither of which she actually witnessed, or the name confession in ch4 trial which kind of got brushed over. Like all the rest of the survivors have Big Defining Moments, except her.

To be honest, ASLH is the first huge writing project I've ever completed, so there's a lot of things I could have done better. But it was also the first huge writing project I've ever completed, so I'm cutting myself some slack there.

What's your philosophy, or even your strategy when it comes to character design? What do you go for first or emphasize, where do you think you could experiment more?

Most of my designs are based around a core "ooh I want to try this thing". Sometimes I take character inspirations, sometimes it's a cool garment, sometimes I'm just redesigning characters. I mostly emphasize clothing, patterns, and colors, but I also reuse a lot of the same clothing styles and patterns. I could definitely experiment more with shape language and silhouette - usually, that's like the last thing I think about, but one of the more important things to have in an ensemble cast. Mostly, though, I just like drawing clothes.

What do you think is the crowning moment of aslh? Like if someone asked you what would be a moment that gets to the heart of the story the most. What would it be?

DEFINITELY the ch5 execution. Like, the emotional resonance? The narration shift? The drama of it all? Peak ASLHcore.

what factored most into your decision-making progress? why did you decide this death order and this mastermind(s)?

My decision making process is entirely me sitting in a fugue state mumbling out details that I need to fix and then sporadically sitting bolt upright and screaming a parallel or tangent I've pieced together.

The mastermind question is easier to put together - I'd always had in mind that this was going to be a revenge game, and that one mastermind was so difficult to take seriously it wasn't even funny and that the other decided to bail halfway through. So I built the characters around that. The points I usually pay attention to with fangan planning (these days) are: ch1 is to establish the status quo and tone of the story, ch3 is to overturn the status quo, and ch5 forces ch6 to happen. So the ch3 case revolved around Sen dying, and then I was like "how can I fuck up the status quo more" and killed Amal and Aster too.

The biggest factor in my decision making process is "what would be really cool". I tend to make a lot of decisions that fuck up the structure of what a fangan "should" be because I think it goes hard as hell when we throw out rules that the characters are unaware of anyway.

was there a draft of aslh that looks drastically different from what we ended up with?

Great question, and fuck you for reminding me!

ASLH actually started as a bullet point fangan called What Tempestuous Despair. It was a much more international cast until I was like "fangans are supposed to be mostly Japanese casts!" and changed a bunch of characters' nationalities, which in hindsight was dumb. Ririka, Kanemori, Tsukino, and Iris were victims of this. Also Amal was the protagonist and I am SO GLAD that didn't stick they are SO DIFFICULT to write the POV from.

I've spoken on a few occasions about how the cast itself changed, and I never got around to plotting out arcs (other than "Amal learns to trust people and allows themself to truly grieve Rin after holding everyone at length for so long"), but some assorted things:

The cast had a bunch of characters who were swapped out. Included in this tally are Rin Matsumoto (whose personality was recycled into Hisaichi, Ryouji's cousin, and their name was recycled into Shuichi's school friend), Leon Mercury Kahahawai (who’s in CYAH), Haywire Asturias, Puck Ganka (who’s also in CYAH), a few characters/designs who I ended up giving away... And also Hayato Kikuchi.

Iris was always a killer, because I really wanted her to have a downfall-that-wasn't-a-downfall-but-rather-a-reflection-of-the-true-self arc. This was always a lategame case so I'd have time to establish her as terrible. Originally, she killed Leon.

Tiana was also always a killer. I think he killed Hayato via electrocution, so as you can tell that's always been around in some form or another.

(Tristan killing Chiyo in ch5 in the current version, btw, was specifically to mirror Tiana's murder. While Tiana killed to get themself out of the KG, Tristan killed to get everyone else out.)

who was considered for mastermind throughout making aslh? what would their reasons have been?

The masterminds have never changed, except that the characters for them didn't exist back in WTD. But the personalities of the characters they replaced were about 1:1 anyway, so yeah basically they've never changed.

what is one thing you really loved about the beta and what is one thing you really hated about the beta

One thing I really loved about the beta was the ch3 case (which I've spoken about at length before), but other than that... honestly Tiana? Tiana's the one character that I had fully developed as of WTD, they just sprung into my head completely materialized. Their entire personality and design somehow stayed the same since conceptualization.

One thing I really hated? I would say "all of it", but specifically, we don't talk about white Tristan. That was so bad. I was trying so hard to design him so that he'd look nonthreatening and I was like "why is this so hard" and then I changed his ethnicity and I was like "oh right, white gamer boy characters just have cursed energies" and moved on with my life.

what would be an ideal day for tiana murdock. what would make them happy.

An ideal day is honestly one where they get a lot done. They're not one to relax or know what to do with free time, but they get a lot of satisfaction out of being productive, so if they manage to finish a lot of work and not end up exhausted? They're happy. They've probably gotta work on learning to enjoy their free time. They do like traveling, though, and- oh my god I should make them friends with Tsukino.

What would the cast's careers be if they lived to be adults?

Chiyo: Elementary school teacher and scifi author! Really wish I'd leaned more into the fact that she loves scifi, honestly. Amal: Journalist, probably, except they'd actually take classes in it this time instead of just writing op-eds constantly Tatsumaru: LIBRARIAN TATSU TRUE ENDING!!! Sentarou: Freelance pianist/composer. I have this whole headverse where he and Alexei are somehow friends with Claude, and together they plot to kill Enji Sekisada. Or Claude and Alexei plot to kill Enji and Sen sits there with his head in his hands. Iris: In universes where she's able to reconcile with academia, she works in ecology + chemistry. In universes where she doesn't, she's a florist. Aster: SERIOUSLY depends on the AU because every time I try to put Aster in a normal AU they're different. Jokes about becoming a flight attendant to travel with Tsukino. Claude: Secretary. No, seriously. May have something to do with killing Enji Sekisada. Hirono: Photojournalist! Photography reminds her of Ekuko. :') Alexei: Veterinary assistant for a specialized bird clinic Tsukino: Pilot, obviously Brendan: Mechanical engineer but sometime around age 30 has enough stress to just quit and become a college professor instead. Tiana: Museum docent, he's coworkers with Laurent Sinclair thanks Ryouji: He's... not sure. In normal AUs does take up food service for a while before getting uncomfortable with his family and quitting. In ASLH canon, he skips this step and goes into law with the intent of helping other killing game survivors sort out their lives. Tristan: Web designer, still makes a few games on the side with his friends. Mostly point and clicks because he ain't about this life Kanemori: Volleyball coach, because he knows a lot more about that than soccer honestly

what part of aslh was the hardest to write?

Deadly life. Always. I can crank the chapters out really fast, but I hate the case part of fangans and they're painful to plan.

For each case, what is your out of universe reason for wanting each person to die when? Like not counting the motives or anything, but why you wanted each person to die then?

- Brendan: He was the OC I had the longest. He had to die. Goodbye you little shit. - Kanemori: He was actually a survivor originally, and Hirono was the ch1 killer for the same "OC longevity" reason but then I realized I don't have anything for Kanemori to do. So... Sorry dude.

- Claude: Y'all ever notice how no one... EVER... puts plot relevant information in ch2s? Anyway. - Tiana: As discussed, they've always been a killer. Putting them as a killer here was a good balance - far enough from ch1 to build up their relationship with Tristan, but also not so far into the story that it conflicts with the general endgame fall-apart-ness.

- Amal, Sentarou, Aster: This case sprung into my head entirely materialized. Like, this was the one that BUILT the story, so it didn't change much. Mostly I just thought it'd be narratively fun to kill off the deuteragonist, the mastermind, AND the ??? in one go. I didn't plan for Chiyal to be a thing so when that became a thing this chapter got better/worse.

- Iris: I always wanted her to be a killer to really expose that "she's not a good person" stuff (she was more of a snake in WTD), but she didn't become a victim until when I was actually writing. She was supposed to have a trial and then I got sick of writing her. Whoops. - Ririka: I had arc ideas for everyone else, and it could have gone either way between Ryouji and Ririka getting that "close to my best friend who is now dead"... in the end it went down to gender balance in survivors. At the time it was Ryouji or Ririka + Kanemori + Tsukino + Tatsumaru, but then once Kanemori got swapped to Hirono just... yeahhh Ririka got stuck in ch4. Sorry. - Alexei: Special shoutout, he was supposed to die in ch4 as just an "oh no this is what happened, how sad" but then it was super narratively unsatisfying and now he's alive.

- Chiyo: For the sake of pain. But like, poignant, meaningful pain. I don't believe in making plot decisions just because they hurt, they've also got to mean something. Considering that a major theme of the story is "death before its time is a complete tragedy", and Chiyo's motifs include death... uh. Yeah... yeah. When it came time to ask myself who'd die in ch5 for this motive, well. I miss Chiyo. - Tristan: Meant to mirror Tiana's killing in ch2, as stated above, had the "selfish kill vs selfless kill" thing. Look if you're going to have a duo in a fangan and don't get to make cool dichotomy/theming what's the POINT. Ended up surviving because when there were only four survivors, there were... really no stakes for the ch6 trial.

- Tatsumaru: I just wanted them to be alive. I didn't know WHY, exactly... I just knew I needed them to live. So. I guess they're alive? Also I thought it'd be really interesting to have a killer protagonist, and a remorseful killer protagonist. - Ryouji: To be honest I didn't have a solid arc for him, aside from Ririka's death I'd decided I was going to figure it out as I went. And I guess I did? I love him. And not gonna lie, since Tatsu became the protagonist and Ryouji's still pissed at them, the perspective/dynamic became VERY INTERESTING. - Tsukino: Originally in beta!ASLH, her schtick was "gilded exterior with a heart of jerk with a hidden, smaller heart of gold" but that didn't transfer over to ASLH itself. Then when I realized "oh shit Tsukino wants to be a hero" it was all over. At first her arc was very "tone yourself down and stop rushing into things" which wasn't... ideal, I think you can still be enthusiastic and upbeat while being mindful and that was not how I had gone about it lol. Fun fact, Tsukino's survived every draft of ASLH, including the beta one - I think she and Amal were closer friends in that. - Hirono: See Kanemori, I just thought she had more survivor potential than him. The problem was that by the time I made the decision to swap them, everyone else was sort of locked by necessity, so Hirono became a survivor by default. Again, I didn't quite have an idea of what she was going to do other than get leeched off of by Iris. Ririka wasn't even part of it, we just had that cooking thing in 2-3 and Ririka was like "this is my problem now" and I was like "what?" so now we're here.

What's everyone's coffee/tea/other preferences?

Coffee: Tiana, Tristan, Brendan Tea: RYOUJI, Tatsumaru, Chiyo, Iris Hot chocolate: Claude, Sentarou Soda: Amal, Ririka Soda but only fruit flavored: Tsukino Water, thanks: Aster, Kanemori, Hirono, Alexei

What was the hardest decision to make, writing wise, for aslh? Like you wanted the story to go one way, but you couldn't force it, or a scene you felt you needed but was difficult to decide upon, anything like that?

Hm... okay see the thing is I'm generally pretty good at writing on the fly so if I make decisions I CAN force them to happen, so there's really not too much that comes to mind. Mostly this happens with trials - I make outlines for my trials and drag my cast along with it. Except they tend to go off-topic, and then I have to drag them back on topic. And sometimes the points don't make sense when you go out of order so I have to ad lib stuff. Ch4 trial was the most off-script one, it was supposed to be a lot slower and made more sense but then the cast just went out of order and I was bonking my head against the wall trying to get it to make sense.

The only real thing I had consistent difficulty with is locations. I did not fucking plan any of this shit and hate making maps so much- oh my god I need to do the ch6 map still.

who would deliberately salt their coffee and who would accidentally do it

Deliberately: Tristan, Tiana, Tsukino, Hirono Accidentally: Kanemori, Amal, Sentarou, Chiyo, Brendan, Iris "Why?": Claude, Alexei, Aster, Tatsumaru, Ryouji, Ririka

#aslh #ask and you shall receive #trivia #crow caws

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unsaudi · 5 years

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Log 6.17.19 - 8:01 am.

It has been months since I have written anything here.

I need help, or in other words, I still do. I don’t have my sleeping pills anymore, and my anti-depressants are two months expired, I still have them tho, they’re the only thing that makes me fall asleep, let alone peacefully, even tho they’re expired. It’s probably not good for me to swallow them, but what do I do. I’m too nervous to go to a psychiatrist here.

Ever since I came back home I have been hanging out by myself. I got a new job, I don’t hate it but I’m also not ecstatic about it. It has nothing to do with my field of study.. y’know, the thing I spent 4 years studying. I honestly feel like I’m wasting my time. I’m thankful that I have something to keep me occupied, Lord knows how my mental health would be like had I not been keeping myself busy with this job.

I’m ready for something different now tho. All my past college mates are getting hired in engineering and I’m here. I feel like I’ve always felt, left out. My FOMO is at its peak.. it’s been at its peak since my college days if we’re gonna be 100% honest lol. I feel like I’m always being picked last. I’m always everybody’s LAST option. I KNOW what I’m capable of, I know for a FACT that I can excel at whatever kinda work you give me. I might not be good at exams, but I am a hustler, I’m a human machine. Assign me a task and I will give it my all.

I have no appetite whatsoever. I do not crave anything. All the depression signs you read about, they’re all very much visible with me. I am getting thinner and thinner by the minute. On one hand, I am desired by so many guys, but on the other, I don’t feel healthy. I am always hungry, and when it’s time to eat I only have two spoons and I’m filled. I’m bored and I get tired quickly.

I have no friends to hangout with. I was told before to go out by myself, it’s fine.. and I started doing that cuz I gave up on making friends. However, hanging out with myself is not exactly self freeing or anything, it’s nothing different from being alone at home. I had friends once and I hung out with them a lot, so I know what it’s like to hangout with people. It’s different, it’s fun. You get to forget about yourself and listen to people, talk to them and laugh and see the world around you and have fun. When I’m hanging out with people I feel like I’m winning in life. When strangers see me, I don’t get insecure, I become more confident, knowing that I’m with my friends.. people that trust me enough to go out with me in front of the world.

———

My clock is ticking. I can feel myself fragmenting, my body decaying. My Mother is tryning to help me find a job, she’s been doing that since I came back home, and I appreciate it truly. I need a different kind of support tho. I need emotional support. I need her to understand how I feel, there is a war in my mind and it’s eating me up from the inside out. Heck, anybody can see it, the signs are fucking clear affff!!!! I tried helping myself, I really did, I’m still trying, but it’s fucking exhausting and not working at all. Is it wrong to ask for outside help? Is it?! Is it??!!!! I need help! I need FUCKING help. My MOTHER, my only friend, is ignorant towards my problems and she only cares about materialistic stuff like finding a decent job with a huge salary. She was my last resort in this world, but now she is showing me her true colors and dare I say... she’s slowly turning out to be just like my dad. Heartless.

———

I am tired. Not even sex feels good anymore. Nothing makes me feel anything. I feel empty.

What would fill me up? I would say SATISFACTION, but how do I achieve satisfaction? What would satisfy me?

Hmm..

1. Gaining weight. Goal is 60 kg.

2. Acceptance. Being accepted by people around me, being respected and heard. Getting accepted in decent jobs.

If those two things are achieved, I would have at least reached closer to self-love.

#by me

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the-miu-in · 4 years

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What to do to be happy when virus is brimming

Hello, everyone! 😄 I'm Russian, live in Moscow. I have a blog, so to anyone who want to see how's it going here's link. https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCroqq-VLLVNpZIX-cO9i1LQ/videos From 2013 I was concerned how to take care of my health, because I have chronic tonsillitis, which every winter of my life turned out and left me with sore throat, high temperature and angina for at least 2 weeks. I realized in 2013 that for the 1st time in my life I'm free to be more considerate to myself and I finally started earning money. I was 21. 😊 I searched web back and forth to understand how at least I should help my immune system. One of solutions is to remove the tonsils (which now look like scratched pieces of meat instead of normal organs - but still working! ), but I refused to do it. 😕 I realized, that any sickness - literally any flu, cold, Fahrenheit, bronchitis, huge variety of them around throat or lungs - turned out in my case almost always into angina. No coughing, no bleeding, no sleepless nights, at least I knew how to ease the pain. So I figured out, I'll hold on for some time. 😤 I'm a strong fighter, I can take the pain. But still I'd prefer to have it for as less as possible. Really irresponsible behavior is popular here in Russia regarding own health. On 1 hand, mostly (99%) women almost hysterically are trying everything to keep themselves and children healthy, neat and clean. Taking vitamins, having warm clothes on, regularly washing & cleaning. On the other hand, men prefer not to see doctor till they have some critical condition or try to treat themselves with cheap and unspecified medicine. I worked for some time as a teacher (I still do, occasionally as a private teacher) and translator, so throat and voice are extremely important for me. I also have Masters degree in oriental sciences, so technically I'm capable of doing research without any verbal communication 🤐 But this is not very convenient, because I equally get bored with being silent all the time. I love singing, speaking and it's part of who I am, so keeping throat healthy is something very important. Now, what did I do, when I for 1 year was left without any medical insurance in Russian region (the healthcare services were much cheaper, though), healthy, but in cold and more dry climate, than I used to be? 1. Drank water alot. 💧 I like drinking anyways, it keeps me look younger. But it's crucial to drink specifically water, not tea, coffee or juice. Pure water intake must be no less than 2 litres/day,if you're grown up woman of standard complexion (not too thin or too chubby). 2. Started consuming vitamins and supplements 💊 You have to idea how easy it's to get vitamins in Russia and how affordable they are. Not like for anyone, but vitamin C in tablets (10 tablets) costs around 10 RUB (... I think it's 1/7 of 1 USD). Apart from vitamin complex (I took several courses in accordance to instruction), I took some macroelements. 3. Macro and microelements I didn't know whether it'd hurt me or not, so it was a gamble. I don't drink or smoke, I did sports on weekly basis, but it was still risky to take pills without prescription. I read that magnesium and calcium may become deficient in woman's body as time goes by. What I did, I ➡️checked each element (including such as selenium and zinc), ➡️realized which products I never eat (for example, I hate beans, fresh tomatoes and never eat them), ➡️based on this, increased my intake of those elements or fibers which I may possibly lack or which are low because of lack of sun. The result of vitamin taking I'd say was not disappointing. Apart from the fact that I found out at doctor's later in 2015 that magnesium was enhancing painful spasm (I never took more than was allowed by instruction), everything else turned out to be OK. 😄 My hair were much softer and stopped falling out that much, same as my nails and skin. I got cold only 1 time in that year (which is very good for me). Vitamins are causing burden on liver, so I had to give myself a break, like 1 month I drank vitamins, 3 months I was not drinking them. Also, some vitamins are fat-soluble, so eating oil is important. 4. Fish fat 🐠 Actually Russia has huge access to Northern seas. Our fish is hard to preserve & deliver to customers right, I think the industry need huge management, investment into refrigerators, logistics relief and make it more acceptable for Russians, especially poor 🐠 And, of course, the education in this sphere because fish importance is greatly neglected and if the oceans will get more plastics polluted, we may have no fish in not so distant future. But you can buy combined fish fat in capsules, again, by affordable price tag in any farming store without recipe. ☺ Not sure how exactly they're making it, but in Soviet Union (yeah, sorry, I'm gonna speak well about something) there was a tradition to feed children in kindergardens and at home with this fish fat. It wasn't very tasty, but I think it was good for young brains. 🤔 I never had it in my kindergarden. Now I'm 28. Recently, from March 2019 I resumed my workouts and lost 10 kilograms within 9 months. Now I weight 75 kg and feel better and more energetic. I used to stop taking supplements when I fell sick with angina, but now I continue taking them, because my organism may like it. 😍😍😍 I had several years break in vitamins, now I'm drinking this. I took tests last year for vitamin D and iron and they turned out to be very low. 1. Vitamin D. I bought it for around 1 USD per 1 small bottle. I had so low level, that I'll be drinking it till August every day (1 drop per day) 😏 And honestly, it's super important for Northerners to drink it. 2. Fish fat 3. (on break) Vitamins 4. (on break) Iron 5. Vitamin C. Hold on and take care and be healthy!! 😍

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clxboyoung-blog · 7 years

Text

Bio

♡ basics ━

BIRTH NAME ; park boyoung NICKNAMES ; meongmeongi (puppy) ALIAS ; n/a

DATE OF BIRTH ; february 12, 1993 PLACE OF BIRTH ; seoul, south korea AGE ; 24 international, 25 korean

GROUP ; coeus chronicle OCCUPATION ; lawyer

LANGUAGES ; korean, english, mandarin

♡ appearance ━

HEIGHT ; 157 cm // 5′2″ WEIGHT ; 41 kg // 90 lbs BUILD ; ectomorph

HAIR ; dark brown, long, wispy bangs EYE COLOR ; chocolate brown

DEFINING FEATURES ; puppy like features, especially her eyes; stretchy, chubby cheeks; warm body temperature; small burn scar on her hip

♡ personality ━

TRAITS ;

✔ puppylike ✔ loyal ✔ compassionate ✔ earnest ✔ friendly ✔ open ✔ reliable ✔ hardworking ✔ precise ✔ intelligent ✔ incorruptible ✔ forgiving ✔ generious ✔ innocent

~ soft spoken

✘ spacey at times ✘ naive ✘ childish ✘ clumsy ✘ excitable ✘ frivolous ✘ paranoid ✘ resentful

WESTERN ZODIAC ; aries CHINESE ZODIAC ; rooster

HOGWARTS HOUSE ; gryffindor ILVERMORNY HOUSE ; thunderbird PATRONUS ; ocicat WAND ; silver lime wood with a unicorn hair core, 10" and slightly yielding flexibility

MBTI ; ENFJ, “the protagonist”

PHOBIA(S) ; fire pokers, fire, scarrification, paranoid Two Moons is going to try to kill her off this year DRINKING / SMOKING / DRUGS ; yES (but most people don’t expect it) / no / no

IN DEPTH PERSONALITY ;

Puppylike: that’s what her brother said, and everyone else as well.

It isn’t just her looks. It’s also her sweetness. Her loyalty. Her compassion, her earnestness, her friendliness, openness, reliability, and, yes, her tendency to (at least seem to) space out at times.

Let’s take an example: say you were new. Shy, fidgety, but looking around like you wanted to join in the conversation. Her smile would falter a bit seeing you looks so lost and lonely, but would immediately pick up again as she did a weird mixture of bouncing and floating over to you. She’d take your arm, offer you one of her favorite cookies, and try to guide you to the group. She’d wait for an opening, or if she couldn’t find one within a few minutes, she’d interrupt, saying softly, “this is - wait what’s your name? I forgot to ask.” Cue small endearing giggle. “Whoops. I’m Boyoung. And you’re…” She’d make this small motion to prompt you to say your own name.

If you seemed particularly dejected, she might bypass any introduction and just hug you.

As such, she’s babied by practically everyone she comes across, even if she’s older. Affectionately pat her head or pull her cheeks; she doesn’t mind. And, if you let her, she’ll do the same.

She’s precise. Hardworking. Intelligent.

Once she gets to work, she works. If she sees a number or statistic that seems off, she’ll redo the calculations herself, even if it’s the kind of math it takes a star math major an hour to do. It’ll take her 45 minutes, max, anyways, so there’s no point in running it by the department in charge. It’s not uncommon for her to pull multiple all-nighters to finish her work and help those who ask. It’s also not uncommon for her to finish her work by noon. (She gets a lot of bonuses as a result.)

She’s naive, childish, clumsy, excitable, frivolous, and yet, she’s generous.

It’s no secret that she likes to shop. She can spend hours and hours at the mall or even one boutique, and emerge, look at the receipt, and say, “oops. I just blew 200,000 won.” Don’t take it as greediness: she has no qualms parting with her money or possessions. She regularly donates to the orphanage she grew up in. She just has a lot of money. She wants to enjoy her life as it comes - her brother would tell her the same, after all. But clothes are some of many things that make her squeal. She loves fashion, and she also loves to dress up. Equipped with nearly all of the Disney princesses’ costumes and a plethora of formal, semiformal, and otherwise formal or informal clothes, accessories, makeup, and beauty tools, she loves to be taken to another world. Even if she trips over the too-long skirt sometimes.

But she’s paranoid and resentful.

Her brother died when he was her age. She’s working for the same company he worked at. She can’t help but wonder if those who killed him will make her their target too.

Honestly, they’re one of the few things that can make her blood boil. She hates them. She loathes them. If it weren’t for them, her brother would most likely still be alive. Maybe married. With kids.

God, because of them, she has been wracked completely through with grief. Because of them, she has been out drinking enough to progress from a complete lightweight to an utter heavyweight. And she’s ninety pounds. It is not normal for someone of her stature to be able to drink that much.

But she can. And she does.

♡ facts ━

➝ placed higher in the bar than her boss ➝ can type nearly as fast as the world record holder ➝ never taken an IQ test ➝ learned to read at three ➝ can drink enough to kill an elephant tbh ➝ will sometimes spike her sikhye ➝ favourite colour is lilac ➝ loves to shop ➝ gets bonuses frequently ➝ hates two moons ; it’s one of the few things that can get her riled up

♡ background ━

She’s just a baby. She’s swaddled in blankets and a jacket, and Kiyoung somehow managed to get the baby backpack thing on himself in the chaos around him, and her safely in it. He doesn’t take much else. There isn’t time take much else, and he’s eight. He’s too small to take much else. The house is burning all around him, his parents nowhere to be seen. There’s an acrid smell, but he tries not to think about that. Instead, he pushes through the smoke, coughing and spluttering, and holding his hand and a cloth over his sister’s mouth and nose so she doesn’t breath it in. Then he runs. He runs and runs and runs and runs with only a faint idea of where he’s going. He’s been there just twice before, both traveling in the safety of a bus. And yet he manages. He doesn’t know why he ran into there, instead of to a police department. Maybe it’s the hazy knowledge that at the overly brightly lit police station, he’ll be questioned, Boyoung will probably be taken from him, and they’ll be separated. Instead, he arrives at the orphanage with bloody feet and burning lungs. He raps desperately at the knocker, lurching inside when the door opens, and hacking out, “my sister,” before falling onto his stomach, twisting at the last moment as not to fall onto her. For her, the only thing she knows of that time is the burn scar on her hip and the orange-red licks of flame behind her eyelids.

♡

Her childhood is filled with smiles, laughter, and joy. The orphanage treats her well, or at least Kiyoung does. He teaches her how to read and write when she’s three, so she can read that “pretty light purple book about the puppies!” and she goes around talking to the other kids in the orphanage and at school, helping them when it’s their turn to learn. He watches with a soft, amused countenance as her bubbliness induces shrieks of excitement, or when she quietly and leaning on her friends. She’s ten when he goes off to university, but he stays in Seoul, taking up a liberal arts degree at Yonsei University, nearby enough to her that they see each other at least every weekend. She wants to see him more, but she’s still under the orphanage’s legal care. Kiyoung doesn’t have enough time to take care of her by himself, or enough money to yet, but he’s working on it. He’s working on it.

♡

When he graduates, he moves to Pyeonghwa to work as a journalist in its Coeus Chronicle. Boyoung chews her lip anxiously when he does, because she has heard whispers of the gang activity there. But he reassures her that he’ll be fine. That he’ll be able to make enough money to bring her with him soon. And then tells her that he wants to investigate there, because there might be something about their parents there - their mother’s work had something to do with Pyeonghwa. Kiyoung doesn’t remember what, exactly, but then again he was eight when they died. So she puts on her brightest grin, eyes curving like upside-down Nike logos, and tells him to hurry up and bring her over. The orphanage allows her to stay with him during her school breaks. Pyeonghwa isn’t too far away - two hours, maybe, by bus - and Kiyoung pays for her fares. He’s doing well for himself, and when she’s sixteen, he files a case to take legal custody of her.

♡

That same year, however, is the one he stumbles home after midnight, blind and bloody. She assumed he was working, and he was. But he was caught. He found out a bit too much about a certain Two Moons’s politicians, and was caught.

They abacinated him. They went for his eyes with red hot pokers and branded and blinded him.

Somehow, he got away. Like when she was a baby, he manages to get to his destination with nothing but a hazy mental picture to guide him. As he dies in her arms, because “I wanted to be able to hug you one last time,” he tells her over her sobbing “Boyoung-ah. Take care of yourself, okay? For me. I’ll always be watching over you. Keep being your bright, happy self, because you bring so much joy to everyone you come in contact with. Okay? Can you do that for me?” But he doesn’t wait for her answer. He gives her a small smile before the light goes out in his eyes.

♡

She is resolute. She sets in her path to becoming a lawyer through her school’s mentor/mentee program, and with Lawyer Park’s help, she acquires the basis for her understanding of law and how to garner her evidence for cases. She wants to be able to help journalists like her brother tackle legal issues - if he’d gone to a lawyer, or had a good one if he did, there’s a high chance he would still be alive. And she just. It would help preserve his memory. Journalists risk their lives for their articles, and she wants to help them be a bit safer. Especially in Pyeonghwa.

It is also thanks to the program that she is admitted to Pyeonghwa National University on a full scholarship. She’s eighteen now, nearly a legal adult, and she finds she has too much free time on her hands. With boredom creeps the aches of loss, and she enrolls in extra classes during the year and in the summer semesters. In her second year, she also begins working at a restaurant. It’s small, and she and her same-aged boss are the only workers there, but business picks up along soon enough.

PNU tells her that she has enough credits to graduate two years early, and Boyoung, surprised, seizes the chance. When she became an adult, her brother’s money and possessions were given to her, as per his will, and she uses it to pay for law school. There’s still some leftover because, remember, he was saving money for the suit and to show that he could support them, and because his work payed for his funeral. She donates nearly all of the rest of the money to the orphanage, only keeping enough to last her about three months of sparing use if she’s really in need. She has her money from working as well, so her living expenses are covered.

She places in the top 1% in the bar, and, because of it and the summers she spent interning at the Chronicle, she secures a high paying position almost immediately. Her salary is about that of her boss’s, really, even though she’s only twenty-three. No one really questions it, though, because she has shown her dedication before, and scored way higher in the bar. She’s twenty-four now, the same age her brother was when he died. A part of her worries that Two Moons is going to go after her, but there’s no way that they know her connection to her brother. Hopefully. For now, she continues to work and enjoy life, because she knows that’s what Kiyoung would want her to do.

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