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feroluce · 10 days

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So I spoke somewhat about my thoughts on Emanator Sampo here, but I never really thought of it from a design point of view or what kind of powers he would have until just recently. But I actually kind of love leaning into it from a "stage hand" perspective?

Because like. Aha's body in THEIR official art is completely black, giving attention to all the fun brightly colored things around THEM. And that's so fitting for Sampo! He usually prefers to be a side character. He likes to act from the shadows. His is a much more subtle hand.

So I wonder if as an Emanator, a lot of his clothes are actually very dark? Not necessarily plain, still extravagant and needlessly detailed in things like cut and quality with lots of different fabrics and textures and ornamentation, but dark. Or maybe even his skin itself becomes blackened further down his body; his hands in particular are dark, as a sort of sleight of hand reference.

The motif of a lot of straps wrapped around him like in his canon design is still present, but they're all loose and flowing off of him like paper streamers now instead of restraining him or holding him together. He is no longer contained! Or maybe they're still a bit more rigid/heavy, but just draped more like red stage curtains!

And this is like. Fully self-indulgent, but I love inhuman designs, and there's nothing in canon to say I can't do this, so screw it! Go for broke!! Maybe it's not visible to normal people, but Sampo having a second set of arms would be really cool, as further sleight of hand reference. One set is almost normal looking, but his hands are a bright, attention-drawing white, and the other is dark, set almost in the shadows of the first arms, to act less noticeably.

He also has something of a broken heart design to him in canon (the front of his black shirt with its jagged shape down the middle; his coat looks like a full heart shape in the back), and I actually like him keeping that element as an Emanator, because I think it suits him. Sampo says his taste in aesthetics and views on Elation involve human dignity,

and the story he helps create in Belobog involves the long and winding road of resistance and survival and eventual triumph in the face of some very adverse, oppressing odds. (I'm pretty sure I heard he once called Wildfire "artless" though, plus the man acts like he thinks Shame is some kind of dessert, so like ndkdjzjskkd) But the point being!!

I think Sampo is someone who can appreciate heartbreak and angst and tragedy in a story, because it makes the victory at the end all the sweeter. And this would be another thing he shares with Aha, because I think THEY did bless the Mourning Actors partly just to be a little shit, but also because Aha does recognize tragedy as part of THEIR Path, too, and you can see it in some of the game. So a broken heart motif can still suit him, and I like him having elements of both comedy and tragedy. Like his clothing having a happy sun/sad moon (like the moon in Aha's art) or him having both of the traditional comedy/tragedy masks in his design.

And as Emanator, Sampo can maybe play with the stage settings environment, too. Like lights sometimes behave strangely around him, appearing blindingly bright to someone or dramatically dark. Sampo wills it and suddenly there seems to be a metaphorical spotlight right where he wants everyone to look. And when he doesn't want to be noticed, his face seems to be cast in shadow, he seemingly just fades into the background, no one notices or recognizes him and he sneaks away easily. He can create smoke or fog literally out of thin air without his bombs now, too, the air will just suddenly thicken until his stage is obscured, and Sampo can set the scene as he pleases or disappear without a trace.

And in line with being a stage hand, Sampo can direct attention like no other. He was already extremely good at this as a normal mortal, and becoming an Emanator only took it up to 11, past human limits. Sampo points, and all present feel compelled to follow his fingertip. He looks away, and they all follow his gaze. He can even affect the mood of an audience; he can influence everyone to be calm and placid or he can whip them into a feverish frenzy. Sometimes a crowd will start to become unsettled, agitation stirring until it boils over, until it incites a full on violent mob.

And in the middle of all that chaos will stand one perfectly calm figure, face cast in shadow, until they quietly slip away out of sight.

#sampo koski #hsr sampo #emanator sampo #hsr sampo koski #honkai star rail #hsr #they were talking about Emanator Sampo designs in the Sampard Nation server one night and somehow THAT was what got my mind going fjkdaljfk #there was also talk of him making monsters explode in confetti or making their heads pop off like a jack-in-the-box (my contribution hehe)#which is hilarious but just wasn't super relevant here jfklasdj #(I miss bouncing around ideas like that...if anyone knows another sampard server or even just a sampo-dedicated one hit me up!)#(i would love to join and would probably even have friends to bring!!)#but anyway yes I love Emanator Sampo being stage hand themed haha it's very fun with him #I have a lot of screenshots so I wanna try to use them for things like this more!#I think its in SU where it says Aha isn't as powerful an aeon as some of the others like Qlipoth or Lan or Nanook #so I like Sampo's powers being less direct and not just pure destructive power like a lot of the Destruction Emanators #it lets you get real creative with it <3 #maybe next I'll bring over my thoughts on his mask design? Ooh but I wanna talk about Geppie too...#Geppie protecting his soldiers from Cocolia or the actions he could have taken or his very sweet relationship with Bronya-#-or him being inspired by Serval or his HILARIOUS relationship with Pela...#Decisions decisions...

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butch-reidentified · 10 months

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do you think it’s possible for a lesbian to be somewhat attracted to a trans woman (who passes well) if the only place she sees the tw is online/in videos/in pictures? i’m gender critical and i believe attraction is based on sex, but if somebody strongly resembles the same sex and you’re only seeing them from a physical distance, wouldn’t it make sense for somebody attracted to that sex to be able to find them attractive? (not referring to pursuing a relationship with them)

its almost 4am at the end of a long work week, and I'm still recovering from covid, so I hope this is coherent lmao

ik this will be controversial but I urge people to really mull over this before reacting in anger, though I really do understand the impulse:

honestly, as a (former) neuroscience researcher and someone still deeply passionate about neuroscience who likes to read neuroscience journal articles in her spare time... I think it's fucking complicated and there's a bit of intellectual dishonesty on both sides. the TRA side claims you can (only!) be attracted to someone's internal identity or ~gender feelings~ while the gc side claims that there is NO circumstance in which a person could pass well enough as the opposite sex to be perceived as attractive by someone whose orientation includes that "passing" sex.

and yet, I've had the experience of being at an lgbt bar or club and seeing someone I thought was a cute masc woman initially, only to realize it was an androgynous or slightly effeminate-appearing gay man - and many many lesbians I've told this to have shared similar experiences with me. I know a male transitioner online who is really cool and calls himself a eunuch rather than a woman or anything, and while I don't find him attractive, I have to admit that in the ~100ish photos I've seen of him (incl many candid full body ones taken by other people), I've not been able to "clock" any distinct male characteristics. maybe that would be different in person, but we live on totally different continents so idk.

I've known a TON of trans people irl, likely far more than most people on radblr or anywhere. this is partly because Florida has the second highest # of trans people in the country, and partly bc of where I went to college, and partly because my life is just strange like that. but I'll admit I've known a couple mt"f"-transitioned folks who I truly had no idea were male for quite some time - physically or behaviorally.

the reality is that your brain only knows what it perceives, and if it perceives a male as a female without your knowledge, and your orientation includes females, then it could be possible to feel attraction. however, I'm preeetty damn sure that would not persist beyond learning that person's sex is male, at which point you'd probably suddenly start noticing whatever male traits you were able to overlook initially. but I don't think it makes rational sense to claim that it's never possible to experience "mistaken" attraction for a period of time. there are known cases of historical women who lived as men who were flirted with by straight women who believed them to be male, for instance.

this is one of those situations where the truth (what I've said above) could be twisted and deliberately misinterpreted by the opposing party, which I believe to be why so few, if any, are willing to acknowledge this. but it's a question I've pondered a lot and this is the only logical conclusion I've reached. and it simply is not rational for anyone to act like anything I've said here implies that homosexuals can/should be open to dating/sleeping with the opposite sex. anyone who could come to that conclusion from this response needs a seriously intensive review of reading comprehension.

like I said I'm not fully awake so I'm sure I could have made my points here more clearly and I'm sure I'll get retaliation from people who want to nitpick my wording or whatever, like usual, but o well.

#mine #ask

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alpaca-clouds · 9 months

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Money is worthless, actually

Just a quick something, I wanted to share with you guys. Because in a weird way I consider it to be quite hopeful.

See, here is the thing: Money is worthless. Technically it is worthless. You cannot do anything from money. You cannot make food from money. You cannot build a house from money. You cannot knit a sweater from it. Not from the coins, not from the paper, not from imaginary numbers on your bank account.

If for some reason money just vanished tomorrow, people would not in fact die. They just would find other ways to deal with it.

Money was originally probably partly invented, because it made both the collection of taxes - and the payment of people working for the "empire". Most societies before just... shared. They literally shared, because they knew that their society worked better if everyone just got, what they needed. Often it was on the basis of "gift" societies. To translate it into a modern understanding (because we still kinda do that): "You need eggs to make a cake? Sure. I will give you some. But next week, when I gonna need some butter, you will give me some of that."

It makes the economy trudge along just a bit easier. But it is not required for it to work.

Money has only worth as long as the people agree that it has that worth. Which is usually what happens whenever a currency collapses: People no longer agree that the currency holds any worth. Yes, we can now go and argue about all those methods of inflation and what not. But the baseline thing that happens really is not that there is too much money, but that people agree that the money hence is worthless.

So, basically... Money is worthless.

Right now it is mostly just used as a tool of oppression, because it is linked to power. It can buy you power more than it can buy you anything else.

But we would not need it to make a society function. Which is also why I like to build my utopias around the idea of societies without money. Where people just get what they need, because it is the best for everyone.

Because whenever there is something like money around, someone will hoard it and it will inevitably lead to bad things. So...

Yeah. In the second Doctor Strange movie it is played for laughs that there are many worlds without money where you not pay for stuff. But... Why play it for laughs? Why not take it serious. You know?

Just a thought.

#economy #anti capitalism #communism #anarcho communism #solarpunk #utopia #imagining a better world

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ceebit · 1 year

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⠀⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀⠀ yours ⠀· j. hong

⟡ note : i’m trying a new layout out ? anyway. this is a continuation ? of sorts ? of my beloved soulmate!au… i’m still so happy it was received so well. thank you to the lovely anons who asked for this. ^_^

⟡ wc : 1.5k. reader’s perspective this time. enjoy :)

it’s been a year since then, but you still can’t shake the feeling that you know him from somewhere.

because you’ve heard of soulmates. of red string, of fate, of instant connections that happen on pure coincidence that last for years and years to come, but you’re sure it’s not any of that. not even close.

that rainy morning in that small café sparked an itch in your head you can’t seem to scratch no matter how hard you wrack your brain for any time you might have seen him before. you know it’s partly ridiculous, because you know you haven’t seen him before, but the feeling still stubbornly persists.

that’s how you find yourself peering at him curiously as he floats about your apartment, hand tousled hair and wrinkled sleep shirt a testament to his highly disheveled appearance. you wonder how he seems to know where you keep everything—not once has he asked where you keep your mugs or the sugar or your baking necessities. alarms should be going off on all fronts, but you feel strangely at peace.

it should scare you. it doesn’t.

“penny for your thoughts?”

warmth wafts under your nose as he places a cup of coffee just within reach. you don’t have to bring it to your lips to know he’s made it just how you like, again without asking.

“i feel a bit strange,” you admit, and his brows raise before settling into the seat across from you. your fingertips drum against the surface of your countertop. “i still can’t help but feel like i know you.”

“we’ve been dating for a few months now.” his response is murmured over the rim of his mug, expression coy even in his relaxed state. “i’d be a little upset if you didn’t know what my favorite color was.”

someone asked me what my favorite color was today.

really? did you say something expected like green? you seem like a green person. specifically sage green.

i’m going to take that as a compliment.

don’t be a smartass. what is it! and don’t say something cheesy like the color of my eyes, or something.

my favorite color is now sage green, then.

“love?”

you shake your head and blink, glancing down at the hand now laced with yours in concern.

“my eyes,” you mumble, and something in his expression makes your heart climb into your throat.

joshua smiles faintly and squeezes your hand once. “that’s right. finish your coffee or it’ll get cold.”

you dream of vanilla and soft linens. of laughter and self made lanterns. of whipped cream and kisses in the dark and the familiar weight of his hand in yours.

it’s not your body. but it is at the same time.

he’s the same every time.

you startle awake still smelling sugar but only find yourself in bed, his arm draped over your middle in deep sleep. moonlight still streams in cut patterns across your shared room.

you still can’t shake that odd feeling of deja vu.

you were never a serious fan of grocery shopping before him. the long lines always made you put it off until you absolutely needed to restock, and you had no patience to wait until time crawled by enough to allow you to set your wants on the conveyor belt. the clerks always looked like they didn’t want to be there, trapped in the endless hamster wheel of work, work, work—a better life dangling in front of them like celery hung from a string—and you could relate. you didn’t want to be there, either. crowds had never suited you well, and if one more mom looked at you pitifully as you inspected the vegetable aisle in mild distaste, you were seriously going to lose it.

“the best time for grocery shopping is in the morning, silly,” he told you once you’d voiced your opinions, mirth dancing in his eyes. “grocery shopping is peaceful when you know what times to avoid the major surges.”

you had laughed, moving to resting your head on his shoulder, and didn’t think much of conversation since then. but without telling you, he’d cleared your schedule out, going as far as to wake you up at six in the morning. the sun bled colors in bright brushstrokes and the sharp chill of the cold window against your cheek helped you stay awake.

breakfast is sweet and you watch the sun rise and finally color the sky a pretty light blue. he peers at you curiously and you brush pastry cream from the corner of his lips.

and of course, he was right. but he didn’t need to know that.

arm looped in his, you find being tugged along as he pushed the cart didn’t seem to be that bad after all. ambient noise fades into the background with the gentle music playing over the speakers, and there isn’t a single crying child in any aisle.

joshua glances over to find content displayed openly on your features and laughs.

are the watermelons even ripe?

i really couldn’t tell you. my mother somehow always knew, though. she had good intuition like that. we’d have smoothies and fruit pops and melonade.

melonade?

mm. watermelon lemonade. it’s really good, i’ll have to make it for you sometime.

i’ll hold you to that.

we need to find some good ones, then. is your intuition any good?

“is your intuition any good?”

“what?” he stops in his tracks, forcing you to stop with him. “what was that?”

embarrassment floods through your body like wildfire. “sorry. i just—never mind. it’s stupid.”

“is it?”

his gaze is heavy. almost stripping you bare, and you feel it’s far too early to have a crisis in the middle of the vegetable aisle. you look away, heart thundering in your chest. what is happening?

“we should get some watermelon,” you say instead.

“whatever you want. fruits are in the next aisle.”

waves brush past your feet. sun kissed skin and seagulls call overhead. his sun hat sits perched on your head and you laugh when he waves from deeper in the water. the drink in your hand is sweet and familiar. music spins a soft tune nearby.

stolen kisses in a library. saturated reds and oranges cast pretty shadows against your skin. sunlight peeks and glints on the rings that adorn his fingers and you’re reminded of where you stand. of where you both stand.

run away with me. arguments. tears. the sound of the wind brushing past your ears on horseback. the cold stings. your fingers are numb and your heart hurts. i can’t. it’s not right.

is any of this right?! i don’t want this. never wanted any of this. i just want you.

you can’t look at him. can’t bear the sight of him at all. not like this.

i’m sorry.

you’re not sleeping. he worries. you know he worries, and yet slumber is not your friend and it laughs when you close your eyes and try will it nearer anyway.

“are you hiding anything from me?”

“never.” his voice is hushed. he stands on the other side of your room, motionless. “i would never—”

“i have these strange dreams. of me, but not-me. and you, but not-you. but i’ve only just met you, so i don’t understand and it’s driving me insane.”

you shove your shaking hands under your thighs and look out of the window. his gaze burns against your bare skin.

“what do you see in your dreams?”

weddings. star-crossed lovers. love that bends time and space itself. the same hand that slipped a ring on your finger, over and over and again and again.

you’re an artist in one. royalty in the next, merfolk in another, stars, bakers, gods, and so on. you don’t understand how you remember memories of lives you know you haven’t lived but still feel anyway.

“who are you?”

he crosses the space between you two, then.

“yours.”

you promise?

there’s a reason why we keep finding each other. i don’t know why, but it feels like the universe likes pushing us in the same direction, however that may be.

i always forget you. or about you. whichever. i’m sorry.

i think that’s the price. a new life is the start, finding you is the journey, and helping you remember is the price.

and the reward?

i already have it. waking up with memories of you is the biggest reward i could ever be given. it helps. during the times when i’m alone and i don’t have you.

i’m sorry i don’t remember. i wish i could.

don’t be. knowing i’ll find you one day and get to fall in love with you over and over again, however you come back to me, is more than enough.

“do you remember now?”

fresh tears fill your waterline. you do. you do, and everything falls back into place—the nagging feeling disperses and is replaced with warmth.

“yours,” you breathe. he coaxes your hands out and squeezes them firmly.

“welcome back, love.”

back home ⟡ the archive ⟡ join my taglist ⟡ last post

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nightwingshero · 2 months

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Just A Drink - Chris Redfield x Leon Kennedy

This is my gift for @a-thousand-lives-lost-for-peace for the My Bloody Valentine's Day Exchange! I hope you like it, it was my first time writing for this ship, but I loved exploring it!!! It was a pleasure creating for you!!!

Of course a shout out to @carlosoliveiraa for making this all happen, you're amazing and I always enjoy these when you do them!!!

“Vacation time again, huh?”

“You owe me a bottle at the very least, Redfield.”

The bar was just a hole in the wall in a random town that really only had two traffic lights. Somewhere out of the way, but not so far off from civilization. Not while they were both so damn busy and at beck and call for whatever disaster came next. It would happen eventually, like it always did, like they had talked about before. Chaos breaks out, they save the day, it gets covered up as needed—rinse and repeat. Neither of them wanted to dwell on that, not when they had just saved Rebecca’s life, only moments to spare before they had lost her forever. But what happened stayed in the past where it belonged, along with the rest of the skeletons and close calls.

It didn’t escape Leon, the irony of the situation, where it was Chris drinking in a bar with Leon seeking him out. The last time it had happened, Chris and Rebecca needed Leon’s help. But as Leon took a seat with Chris, it was clear that Leon didn’t share the same intentions that Chris had—he was content with indulging. He ordered a glass of whiskey on the rocks as opposed to the beer his drinking buddy seemed fond of.

Chris chuckled lightly as he shrugged, inclining the neck of his bottle towards Leon’s short glass, a slight toast in silent promise between them. The smile was a bit short lived as the longer Chris stared at his bottle, the more his smile fell, losing the light and warmth it typically held. Leon noticed, of course there wasn’t much Leon didn’t notice in general, but his attention to detail seemed to heighten when around this guy—despite never wanting to really admit it. A few more moments of silence, a few more heartbeats, and Chris said something that fell under the noise of loud country music blaring from old, worn-out speakers. “You know…if you hadn’t showed up when you did, who knows where we’d all be.”

“Told you, had to take the stairs.” Leon tapped his fingers against his glass, partly avoiding the heavy conversation. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the capability, he just wasn’t sure if he had the capacity. So much weighed on his shoulders and he wasn’t ignorant enough to think Chris was better off. Guilt and regret held a strong grasp on Leon’s mind, the squad he lost, their close call with Rebecca, and just the things that had all led to this, including Raccoon City—where everything had started. It was strange, the more either of them thought about it, to see how their fates seemed intertwined from the beginning, without even realizing it at the time. “Not exactly vacation talk, Redfield.”

“I just…wanted to say thanks. I know that…well, you were going through your own thing when we caught up with you.” Chris replied, taking a sip of his beer. “I am sorry about your squad, Leon.”

A few more taps on his glass and Leon still didn’t know quite what to say. He still felt that anger, that regret and guilt. But if anyone could understand that, it was Chris Redfield. And while he was pissed at Chris at the time he had asked for help, even if he was still so disenchanted with the impact their actions had—or the lack thereof—he was still somewhat grateful to have gone with them. If anything because of Rebecca’s sake, but if he was honest with himself, it was more than that. Leon wasn’t sure if there ever would be a moment where he wouldn’t have Chris’ back, hated the version of himself that ever had to go against him—something he’s been forced to do before.

“That’s why you’re making it up to me, Redfield.” It was these moments that helped bring him back down to earth, a breath of fresh air before diving right back in again. Chris laughed again, nodding as the air between them remained heavy with things left unsaid, thoughts that were shoved aside and buried. Whatever it was, they didn’t talk about it. Or the way their eyes just kind of caught before Chris smiled, holding his beer bottle up in mock salute.

“Well, let’s get you that bottle I owe you then, see if we can get to the bottom of it.”

#i hope i did them justice!#it was so much fun to try my hand with this ship #leon kennedy x chris redfield #resident evil #gift exchange #mybloodyvalentinesday24 #my writing

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paluimbel · 6 months

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The Structure Fell About Our Feet (And We Were Free to Go)

Chapter 1: Try One, and Try Two

Summary:

Some time after the Rapture, Gem used a spell she found in some far-flung ancient library to let an Eldritch Entity™ share her body in exchange for power and protection. There's just one problem; when it comes time to introduce those she's close to to her new headmate, fWhip isn't exactly happy about her decision.

Notes: This was partly inspired by Prompt #1,051 by @pluralprompts, except we sorta accidentally stopped reading halfway through because we got Ideas after just reading the first bit. Oops?

Read on ao3 here.

Fic:

“You’re not Gem.” fWhip said, fixing her with a glare that made her feel the need to turn her practice sword on him in self-defense.

Gem wouldn’t like that, though, so she refrained, letting it swing idly by her side. (Oh, to have hands with which to hold a sword, and arms with which to swing it!) This was earlier than they’d planned to tell him, but, well, now was as good a time as any.

“Not… exactly?” she replied, face contorting into an awkward expression she was starting to become very familiar with.

fWhip’s red-orange magical aura, smelling of ozone and fire and a strange sort of crisp decay she couldn’t quite place (Autumn, Gem informed her kindly, it makes sense that you wouldn’t recognize it, since the End has no seasons, but you’ll experience it for yourself soon enough), exploded outward in an angry wave.

(Hang on, she thought, I was under the impression you were both human.

Mostly, Gem replied, by which I mean about three eighths, I think. We’re changelings.

That explains a lot, she thought back.

Thanks. Gem’s grin was inseparable from the feeling of the word.)

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?” Sausage broke in.

“I go by Gem, now that I’m here,” she gestured at the meat suit Gem had been so kind as to share with her, “but I’m not the Gem you know.”

She was shaking. Why was she shaking? It felt like the rush of adrenaline that came with battle, but without any of the focus, without any outlet. (We’re nervous, Gem informed her, not exactly calm, but warm and safe, take a deep breath.) She did, and was surprised to find how much it helped.

“Oh,” Sausage replied, clearly not understanding, “then if you aren’t Gem, how are you in Gem’s body?”

“She let me in. We have an agreement,” she stated.

“My sister would never let someone take over her body,” fWhip accused, shooting daggers at her with his eyes.

(Stay calm, Gem told her, if you…

I know, I know, she replied, You’ve sent me practically every memory you have of him in preparation for this, remember?

Right, Gem answered, just worried, is all.)

“I didn’t take over,” she replied to Gem’s brother, “your Gem has just as much control as I do. We take turns. I’m mostly in control right now, because I wanted to spar with Sausage, but she’s here too.”

“And we’re just supposed to take your word for it?” fWhip asked incredulously. “How long have you been in there with her without telling us? Without telling me?”

She could feel the fire that was her headmate pulse hotter for just a moment. Remembering what Gem had told her, she took a deep breath, and the inferno quickly returned to its customary warm glow.

“Maybe we should trust Gem, fWhip,” Sausage spoke up before she had the chance, “you know how cautious she is, she wouldn’t do anything like this unless she knew it was completely, 100% safe.”

“Maybe she didn’t have a choice, Sausage,” fWhip replied, “also, you let yourself get possessed by a demon, so forgive me for not totally trusting your judgement in this matter.”

“Will you at least give me a chance to explain?” she interrupted.

Sausage and fWhip turned back towards her. fWhip didn’t look happy about it.

“Gem was the one who suggested this… arrangement. She wanted power and protection, and I wanted to experience the world,” she began, an uncomfortable, restless churning sensation filling her abdominal cavity, “I’m not sure all the details of how she bound us together, some spell book she found in a dusty basement or something, but it was completely her choice. You can ask her about the terms of our arrangement later. She’ll corroborate what I’m saying.”

fWhip fixed her with a skeptical glare, “I want to speak to my sister. Now, not later. Prove she’s really here and you’re not just controlling her.”

She paused, closing her eyes. Gem’s wordless and slightly playful outrage drifted towards her.

“Gem says to tell you that it’s rude to demand she come out when I’m already here,” she interpreted.

“Then ask her what the heck she was thinking, inviting a strange demon-spirit-entity-thing she knows nothing about into her body!” fWhip demanded, having apparently judged the message she’d passed on as something his twin would say.

The sting of betrayal welled up in her chest, alongside a strange sort of exhausted exasperation, and tears pricked at her eyes. The feelings weren’t hers, but she felt them, and Gem carefully shoving them down, all the same.

“Just because Gem’s your sister doesn’t mean you know what’s best for her, you know,” she spit out, “We both know you mean well, but she’s an adult; she can make her own decisions.”

(Reva… Gem scolded, somewhere between dryly amused and anxious.)

“Besides, I’m not a stranger; I’d already been working with Gem for years before she bound us together,” she added.

fWhip opened his mouth as if to respond, then closed it again, storming off.

She and Sausage stared after him for a minute.

(That could’ve gone worse, Gem thought, tone as cheerful as she could muster.

Yeah, no, that went great, she replied. Are you okay?

Gem’s lack of a response spoke volumes.)

“So… do you wanna continue sparring, or…?” Sausage asked.

“I think we need to go home and rest after all that,” she replied, “sorry.”

“No problem!” he said, “It was nice meeting you, uhh… Other Gem? Can I call you Other Gem?”

“Other Gem works,” she shrugged. “See you around?”

“Anytime.”

She flew off.

Additional notes: This is sorta a prequel to some planned Gem-centric works in our plural!hermits series, but since we haven't actually written them yet this is more like a sneak peak/fun preview.

Other Gem's name before Gem bound them together was Revañae, a word from a conlang we made for the inhabitants of the end in a different mcyt series. It literally translates to something along the lines of "void dragon" and is really more of a title than a name, so Other Gem decided to start going by Gem once she and Gem were bound together and she started creating a proper identity for herself. Gem still calls her Reva in the headspace sometimes though.

Also! Other Gem will eventually become hermit!Gem. Hence why this is relevant to the plural!hermits series. That's still a long way off at the time this takes place though.

#plurality #endo safe #geminitag #empires s1 #empiresblr #esmp s1 #roseblings #geminitay #fwhip #mythicalsausage #fanfiction #anti endos dni #actually plural #plural system #wither rose alliance #post empires s1 finale #post canon #light angst with a happy ending #pluralprose

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dumping-ideas · 6 months

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im impressed by all the Tsukasa questions you get, hes such a strange little fellow And i also have a question about him lol

I feel like tsukasas the kind of person whose willing to confide in others about his problems (which i think hes openly said), namely the troupe, and if its minor enough, Saki and/or Toya as well. i always got the impression that he thinks he must always be the big brother/leader no matter what because thats really what he was his whole life, i mean he didnt have many to rely on as a child either, did he? Now maybe i just have bad memory, but i dont think hes ever confided in anyone about his childhood? i believe in dazzling stage he was able to sort of heal from the sorrow he felt as a child, but that was all. like. *just* him, no? i always thought the majority of the tsukasa angst written about in the fandom was greatly exaggerated, one of them being how he bottles up his problems, but what im asking is, is that really so far from how he actually is? i think the main thing he feels he just cant talk to others about is his past i feel is a very very important part of his character

i didnt mean for this to be so long my apologies 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

No no no, thank you for the ask! I'm sorry it took me this long to answer（┬┬＿┬┬）

I'm also of the opinion that Tsukasa does know how to share his problems (mainly show related), but his upbringing certainly influences how he grows up to be so independent. We know that Tenma parents love both children but I believe that concession had to have been made in the past. Like leaving Tsukasa alone lots of time, Tsukasa visiting Saki most of the time (like it took Ichika 2 hours by train just to go there iirc and she's accompanied by her mom, Tsukasa probably just goes back and forth as often as he could), etc. And because Tsukas also knows that not sharing his problem might make others worry about him even more, so he's fine with letting them know on a need-to-know basis.

And you're totally right! All WxS know is that Saki was sick and hospitalized a lot, so Tsukasa wants to make her smile through shows.... That's it. Other info WxS gets about Tsukasa's past is mainly from Saki, Toya, and Shizuku, not from Tsukasa himself.

While Tsukasa knows how to ask for help, he doesn't really confide his personal issues with other people. Like how he doesn't tell anyone that yeah he felt lonely and sad when Saki was hospitalized and how he just buried those feelings deep inside because they hurt, or how he feels so powerless because his dream just feels so far away. Heck, even in Our Happy Ending we just finally get Tsukasa admitting that parting with WxS makes him feels lonely and it's for Emu to admit her own feelings and cry in front of them. Tsukasa is being vulnerable because he wants Emu to be vulnerable in front of them as well. That's just how much Emu and WxS means to him.

And well, angstkasa definitely amped up the angst to eleven, but I personally think canon Tsukasa just doesn't think much about his problem? Canon Tsukasa problem is that sometimes he's rushing through things--partly due to his personality and partly due to how he just doesn't process his negative emotions that much. And canon tsukasa doesn't really share what he's doing/feeling as long as it doesn't hinder their shows and his family & friends (everyone is surprised when they found out that tsukasa met the otori brothers alone to ask for more opportunities outside wonder stage). I get the feeling that he thinks sharing positive feelings is fine but sharing negative feelings is something that happens just when it's necessary.

About bottling up problems, canon tsukasa tends to go like this:

"Oh, this feels painful/difficult"

Option 1: "I have to do something to remedy it myself!" & Option 2: "It's not important right now so let's just forget about it! (but it's still there)"

Option 1 usually results in him doing things himself without anyone knowing the underlying problem

Continuation of option 2: "Why is this still a problem? Damn, it hinders our show."

"Maybe it's okay to ask for some advice? Just enough so it can help our show without troubling the others that much"

"Okay, I'll try to solve it myself with your advice" => by Phoenix Edge WxS is helping and watching over Tsukasa in this step! This is progress!

SELF-REFLECTION or inner monologue about how it hurts very much but he got this! For everyone and for the show!

"THANK YOU EVERYONE" (doesn't elaborate any further)

Tsukasa doesn't do bottling up problems, he just doesn't think it's a problem while it is very much a problem. Rui realizes it in Pop in My Heart, and Emu and Nene is aware of it by Dazzling Stage. That's why they're so supportive of Tsukasa in Phoenix Edge, and how they become much kinder towards Tsukasa now (especially after the update). Unless Tsukasa being full of himself or an embarrassment, they didn't really tease/prank him that much compared to before.

I think the most noticeable evidence is how both EN and JP fandoms thought Rui would tease Tsukasa over their height difference, only for the official team to say "no, current Rui would not do that, he likes to see Tsukasa smiles". AND THAT'S A HUGE IMPROVEMENT!!! Now, WxS is learning how Tsukasa ticks--even Nene's tongue isn't as poisonous as it was before. Tsukasa learns how to be okay by himself growing up, and now WxS is learning how to let Tsukasa not-be-okay in his own pace. They've seen him being depressed and ruminating his problem by himself right before their very eyes after all, so I guess they're learning to be softer so he would loosen up around them and more willing to share his feelings if he's up for it. The problem is that Emu, Nene, and Rui is also still learning how to push, while for Tsukasa there's nothing to push (while it actually stacks in the corner to be processed later).

Besides, I think Tsukasa just thinks that his past isn't that necessary to be shared as long as he remembers his true feelings. But yeah, it's a huge part of Tsukasa's character, actually. He doesn't really share his personal feelings and past as long as it's not necessary. It's interesting how WxS story also deals about "you're not alone anymore, so don't hesitate to rely on us about anything" while the group leader is more of a "need-to-know basis" in terms of opening up lol.

#pjsekai #project sekai #tenma tsukasa #ask #tsukasa tenma #analysis #Tsukasa is so easy going when dealing his emotions and so strict when dealing with his own standards for himself it's kinda funny #Tl;dr tsukasa deals with problems by not making it a big deal until it disturbs WxS shows #Other than that it's a need-to-know basis for everyone

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time-to-write-and-suffer · 2 years

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Let’s talk about #swedengate

Hi.

I’m here to give my two cents about the current meme going around about Swedish families not feeding their guests, particularly children who come over to play with their kids.

My initial reaction to this meme was “Wow, out of all the things to roast Sweden for, the Americans picked the thing that’s untrue? Guess they’re just happy that the world isn’t making fun of them for a change.” But then I gave it some thought, and actual Swedes, that I actually know and can confirm are Swedish, said that the memes are true, while others said they were bullshit, including my own initial reaction. So then I thought back to my childhood, and realized that hey, there’s some nuance here. But it’s more complicated than “Swedes are evil and racist and classist and don’t give people food because they hate intimacy and love and joy” and “Swedes are wonderful and perfect and super generous and actually Americans stfu you don’t even take your shoes off inside.”

This is about Culture TM.

So what are my credentials? Well, I don’t have any. I took some basic sociology and ethnicity and culture classes and now I pretend I know things. However, I have something more important than that: 1) I’ve lived in Sweden for two thirds of my life 2) I’m a zillennial so my experiences are probably still relevant and 3) I’m an immigrant from a working class family. My perception of Swedish customs is not colored by patriotism, and I can compare them to the culture of my birth country.

Feel free to ask for clarifications and details and such, but be civil. Svenskar är välkomna att dela med sig av sina erfarenheter, men bara om du är normal, okej?

So here are my, I think fairly unbiased but informed, thoughts.

First of all: yes, Swedish families will feed the kids who come over. However:

Sometimes they won’t :)

A common experience for me was that the parents would ask if I would join, then ask for dietary restrictions and potentially whether what they were making was okay. Sometimes they’d adjust the food accordingly. Back when I was still Muslim, I remember the parents of my then-bestie got visibly upset when I said I’d be going home instead of eating with them, because they’d made chicken instead of pork for my sake. Now, I was always shy and socially anxious, but this was partly informed by the Swedish culture surrounding food and particularly family dinners. I’ll get there, though.

While many of my experiences coming over to friends’ houses included having dinner with the family, I do remember many a time where I've had to wait alone in their room for my friend to be done eating with their family. This is, to an outsider (especially one with different cultural upbringings) very strange and seems maybe draconian in some way. I want to figure out why that is, because to me, it’s awkward but pretty normal.

It should be noted that I was never forced to sit alone and starve, nor that parents will just lock children who aren’t their own in a room to contain them while they gorge themselves on meatballs and surströmming, but rather that this was the result of many different factors.

From what I’ve seen, it could be no-food is more common among city folks than country bumpkins. I grew up in smaller towns, because that’s where immigrants get punted due to the expensive living in the cities, and people there were pretty willing to feed you.

I could also argue that the household’s class has an influence on whether you get fed or not. I remember that I never once shared a meal with my one Swedish friend who was lower-class (she lived in an apartment like the immigrant kids in the town, versus all the other Swedes who had their own houses in the suburbs). I also never once ate at very wealthy kids’ houses, either. So lower class people won’t feed you because they can’t afford it, while upper class people won’t feed you because they’re assholes. This leaves that middle-class families tend to be the most likely ones to feed you, which is my own experience. This is anecdotal and heavily misremembered evidence, but still interesting to think about.

To me, the two things that determine whether you get fed are the family’s own attitude and how well you know them. A lot of families will just assume you’re staying to eat, and won’t even ask or have the kids ask you, because they’re just like that. They’re peppy, they’re friendly, they’re fun. Sometimes they’ll ask about dietary restrictions and might even make you something separate if it turns out you can’t eat what they have.

But the second factor is the main one I want to talk about. You see, Swedes are socially awkward. Or at least, they’re deeply uncomfortable with strangers. They avoid eye contact on public transport, they don’t strike up conversations with random people, and they stand 10 feet away from each other on the bus stop. So when people from other cultures say sharing food is a sort of social bonding exercise, a type of intimacy, is it really a surprise that Swedes are hesitant to participate?

Those families that will feed you? More often than not, the parents will ask you, or ask their children to ask you, whether you’ll stay for food. And due to how Sweden tells you to be polite and unassuming, it’s generally seen as more polite to decline. Some parents will try to convince you, but a some won’t. So if you’re not going home to eat and want to resume playtime later, you’re waiting.

And you, raised in a different culture, might think, “Wow, this is messed up! How do you put that responsibility on children? Just feed them!” But the question isn’t really about that. A Swedish parent isn’t thinking “Am I morally obligated, as an adult, to feed every child that shows up on my doorstep?” They’re thinking: “What if they can’t eat this? What if they don’t like it? I’m not gonna assume they’ll want to eat what I made, that’s rude! What if I make them uncomfortable by making them eat? What if they’re too shy to refuse and eat something they shouldn’t? What if they ate already and simply don’t want to? What if they want to eat with their family at home instead of with us?” Assuming that the child 1) can eat what you made 2) wants to eat what you made 3) wants to share this meal with you, would be rude. It’s easier to ask, and if they say no, you respect that decision. You treat that child as an individual making their own decisions, not as a nebulous little creature you must feed simply because you’re the one making the food.

I’m not arguing pro or con, I’m explaining the mindset.

There’s also another, final layer to this smörgåstårta How do we define a meal? How do we share food, what’s for everyone and what’s for the family only?

You see, Swedish families have a focus on family dinner. Kids get down and eat together with their parents. It’s the norm. It’s the time to share what’s happened and gossip about people they know. Based on the reactions I’ve seen, this isn’t the case in other places. Dinner isn’t something reserved for the family, but something to be shared with others. That’s fine. But it’s different. So when strangers come by, it’s awkward for the average Swede. So they ask, “Are you eating here? Are you sharing this with us?” And you, a small Swedish child, just as aware of the intimacy of the moment because you do this very thing at home, do the quick assessment of whether it’s rude to intrude, whether you’re close enough to this family to say yes, whether you’re comfortable sharing this with them instead of with your own family at home, and come to a conclusion, “No, thank you.” But you’re not gonna leave just because they’re eating, that would be weird! And you want to keep playing later. So you wait.

EDIT: I forgot another small factor that others have pointed out, and it’s that whether you join people for dinner also depends on how long you’re staying. Like if you’re sleeping over at a friend’s house, then it’s obvious you’ll get fed. One family that I was very close with as a kid even let me join in on movie nights, sitting on the couch with blankets and eating snacks together. It was very good and chill, but that’s a level up over just joining them for dinner. High level play, not recommended for beginners.

You know what’s the most common way that Swedish family will feed kids that aren’t their own? They’ll make the food and then set it on the kitchen counter and shout “Food’s ready!” And then you and your friend go downstairs, put food on your plates, and haul it back to their room. That’s the most consistent way you get fed as a kid in a Swedish house. When the expectation isn’t “join us for dinner,” it’s a lot more casual and, seemingly, inviting. It also bypasses the need to ask whether the kid will be joining or not: they can simply take the food if they want to or not if they don’t. But it doesn’t have the same vibe to a lot of Americans, because it doesn’t happen around a big jolly table. But the big jolly table is for family only. Are you close enough to this family yet? Are the parents cheery enough to make it inviting? Can you eat what they’re offering? Do you want to? Do you have a dinner waiting at home in just an hour and it’s food you really like versus the food you don’t like here?

It’s about politeness, really. It’s polite of the parent to ask, and it’s polite of the child to decline. That might be fucked up to an outsider, and many an essay can be written about this, I’m sure, but in the end, it’s not really malicious. It’s just culture and socialization.

In Russia, it’s expected to bring something when you visit someone. If you’re gonna eat there, you bring something to eat as well. Swedes just fucking hate that. Well not really, but they don’t get it, and it makes them uncomfortable. I know because I’ve delivered many a weird gift my mom sent me with to many a baffled and embarrassed Swedish parent who didn’t know how to react. It’s just not done that way here. So it’s not always about being a cheapskate or a snob, nor is it about racism or classism. (For the record, any Swedish family who’s racist enough not to offer a kid food just because they’re a PoC is already racist enough to not let that kid into their house in the first place, which I feel is pretty obvious but idk people are dumb I guess.)

There’s a lot of layers to this. And it comes down to not being evil or racist or hating fun and joy and the spiritual purity of food sharing or whatever the fuck. Sure, there are assholes who tell you to leave before dinner or won’t feed you ever, but they’re the exception, not the rule. It’s mostly about how fucking awkward Swedes are and how even adults can’t usually handle it in a normal way.

That’s not to say that Sweden and Swedes aren’t racist, they very much are. Think of Sweden less as a socialist utopia and more of a wannabe America. It’s a capitalist state slowly being turned further and further right by the neo-Nazis in its government. It has a deeply troubled history with eugenics, genocide, and general racism, and is currently a very segregated society both in terms of class and ethnicity. It pretends to be all about personal freedoms and progress while anyone darker than a vanilla wafer is, generally, fucked. It’s like a white gay’s utopia, but only the type of white gay who’s the target audience of all those rainbow profile pics the corporations switch to in June.

What I’m trying to say is that the food thing has a lot of different layers, not all of which relate to and include the darker parts of Sweden’s past and existence.

If you do want to make fun of something food-related in Sweden that’s actually mildly racist and problematic, go ahead and laugh about how the most popular foods in Sweden that many Swedes consider to be “Swedish food staples” are actually imported and refined by immigrants. That includes tacos, kebab, pizza, etc. Traditional Swedish food is, in general, pretty garbage. Just some of the whitest, saltiest meat you can put on the world’s hardest piece of flat stone some might call bread. And there’s inexplicable jam everywhere. Will defend IKEA’s meatballs with my life though.

So um anyway. That’s that on that, I guess! And again, none of this is scientific or backed up by anything. These are just my thoughts and experiences. Hope it helps y’all decide whether this meme is funny or not <3

#sweden #swedengate

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winx-reimagined · 1 year

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Is sparxshipping toxic?

I’m not sure what sparxed it but I just started to think about the, debatably, infamous ship between Bloom and Valtor. And while this is a strange post to suddenly come back with (hah, assuming I even stay active after this) I might as well ride the sudden jump in interest.

Also, take this as a revision to my past (cringey) opinion on the ship. Quite honestly, I need to revisit a lot of those older posts (should I call them editorials? analysis maybe? Idfk I’ll come up with a name for them later) Dear God, they are so bad and poorly thought out urghhh

Anyways...

To start us off, what is sparxshipping?

Sparxshipping is the romantic pairing between protagonist Bloom and villain Valtor (Baltor in some versions). I will not be referring to season 8, mostly cause I don’t care for it, and partly cause I honestly forgot what even happened 💀

We meet Valtor in season 3, where he’s trying to steal various forms of magic from the different kingdoms in the magic dimension. Throughout this season we learn that he was made, by using the Dragon Flame, by the three ancestral witches to destroy Domino. Obviously making him more to Bloom, than just another villain.

Why do people ship them?

Well, there’s the obvious. They fit the enemies to lover dynamic to a T. And because Valtor is basically a blank slate of a villain, like many of the villains in Winx, it’s easy to develop his character and story in a more sympathetic---and eventually, romantic---way. Speaking of which, it’s easy to assume that he’s never been shown to love, be affectionate, or really anything healthy or positive cause again, cartoon villain guy. And that, Bloom serves as an opportunity, not only for redemption, but to properly learn to show and give love.

They are very contrasting personalities, but have very similar mindsets---just used in different ways. Valtor is suave, calculated, and charming. Bloom is stubborn, headstrong, and optimistic. The both of them are overly dedicated, impatient, confident, and the lead in their groups.

Throughout the season, Valtor seems to have an interest in Bloom, to the point of sparing her continuously. Even his henchma’ams took notice (honestly when Icy said he was strangely obsessed with Bloom and then he just uno reversed that shit, really giving me Icy x Bloom X Valtor vibes ngl). He even offered for them to takeover together, to share the power he stole. And without context, yeah, you could see how that can be taken as romantic, to a degree. But you cannot forget that he’s a huge manipulator and, like making a deal with the devil, he will give you what you want for a price.

Why is it so toxic?

The first thing that comes to most people’s minds, is the age gap. And to be fair, I also used to thing there was a disgustingly large age gap between the two. They were really giving Edward & Bella vibes, if you know what I mean. But the truth is, they are about the same age. Honestly, I blame the art-style for making him look much older and Bloom the same as when she was 16.

Think about it, Valtor was made around the same time Bloom was born in order to destroy Domino. By definition they are the same or of a similar age. The thing about that though is, does that alleviate the power imbalance he could have over her?

There are various forms of power imbalances, the only ones I could think of that are applicable to these two is power, age, and experience. Age and experience are not the same thing, you don’t magically earn experience for being a certain age you aren’t literally leveling up lol.

For age, no, there is no power imbalance. As stated, they are practically the same age.

For experience, this is an interesting one. Since we really don’t know much about Valtor, we have no idea if he had to mentally develop the same way any born being would. It puts into question his experience. Cause while there are absolutely things he knows that Bloom does not, he’s also been “raised’ a certain way, therefore all he knows could be a very narrow mindset or form of knowledge. At the very least, he has the mental capacity and know how to manipulate people and take advantage of others. So, while it’s still debatable how much of a power imbalance this puts them at, he has the capability to control her and it really falls upon the writing, for how they deal with that.

Now power, I mean this mostly in terms of magic, but I’ll also try to touch on influence and physical means of power. Though they share the same source of power---which is part of what makes them shippable, their whole two sides of the same coin dynamic (which is arguably Icy and Bloom’s dynamic)---he abuses his power. But he means to horde knowledge to become more powerful and if he had succeeded, there would be nothing Bloom could do to stop him. I feel like the implications there are obvious. And to take it a different direction. Let’s say he does have all this power and Bloom inevitably caves and basks in it as well. There’s still an imbalance, because of potential entitlement & shaming Valtor might use to hold this gift over her head. Or simply that he fully controls her abilities and therefore a lot of her autonomy.

Now physically, he is a big dude capable of using his strength to force what he wants. Don’t get me wrong, just because you’re stronger than someone does not mean there’s an imbalance of power, just that, in that aspect, you do have power over someone and it comes down to morale. And given Valtor’s pitch poor morality, paired with his physical means, there is absolutely an imbalance in power. Albeit I don’t think he’s one to force his way physically, but only because it’s not as satisfying as tricking others--he’s like Naraku really.

Lastly, influence. This is definitely the least impactful. At least as he is in the series. His influence would only become an issue after taking over the world. He has all this control over everything and everyone, what is stopping him from doing that to Bloom or holding his status over her?

And probably the most important part. He kinda uhhhh, killed her parents. Yeah. Okay, technically he didn’t kill them. Just turned them to stone to forever be in between life and death, never truly being able to do either. Mhm. He also partook in the destruction of her home and, presumably, turning Daphne into a spirit.

In conclusion...

Now I don’t hate sparxshipping, not anymore at least. But as it stands in canon, yes, it’s pretty problematic. Though it’s not impossible to get around these issues, and any others I potentially missed (don’t blame me it’s been a while since I’ve watched). With some solid planning and writing, a dash of canon-divergence, and perhaps a touch of “fix-it” it is possible to make this ship not only romantic but also enjoyably healthy. On the flipside, there’s nothing wrong with writing about a toxic relationship, just be careful how you write it and what you may indirectly be implying through your writing.

Oh and if it’s an AU it’s basically fair game, an all you can eat buffet, a pile of gold, the jackpot, the crackpot, the...

#don't take this too seriously it's just for fun #winx #winx club #bloom x valtor #writing #prose #opinion writing #editorial #winx writing #winx baltor #editorial writing #ancestral witches #trix #icy #winx bloom #winx club bloom #valtor #winx valtor

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sundayswiththeilluminati · 1 year

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I think I love and relate to Red so much because he has always been very autistic coded and I'm living for the new lore and shockingly for his new voice too. I am 100% here for strange robot works hard to be part of humanity trope AND THIS ONE IS FANTASTIC because Rasputin was Made to represent humanity and he has full rights to be at this party already, despite his otherness. God I love him. Happy new year to you!

I haven't touched on this specific aspect because writing a post on Rasputin and autistic coding would be a weeks-long ordeal of rereading lore, rereading dozens of essays from autistic people, debating my own perspective, and sweating every single detail to make sure I didn't say something wrong on tumblr of all places, but yeah, strong agree. I think there's a lot of coding in there, either accidental or intentional, and I like it too.

One reason I like Bungie's AIs, and the Minds of the Iain M. Banks books that partly inspire them, is that they don't want to "be human." They don't feel compelled to change their thought processes or mental structures to follow human neurotypical norms, or aspire to experience the same sensory input as humans to become "more alive." I get so sick of those plotlines. As if there's anything special about human meatsacks! Instead Rasputin relates to us through shared culture and emotions. He shares what binds together our society, not bodies and brains but ideas and connections and experiences. He's not human and he never will be, but he wants to be part of the human world, and it takes some learning and adapting, but it doesn't take changing who he is. At the end of the day Rasputin knows he's always going to be different. It's just the nature of who and what he is. But he has a place at the table all the same.

And in Destiny's big coming showdown, Rasputin - and Neomuna, we haven't factored that in yet - will be the ones carrying humanity's banner. Those names live in him. He's an apex of human technological achievement - and social achievement, if you think about it, because the person in charge of his project* actively tried to build an evil robot overlord and it didn’t work. Other humans were so nice and connected with it so much that it said "nah bro" and became our biggest champion instead. He's the most human of us all.

So yeah I love him too. Happy New Year.

*I don't like to say the Warmind project designed and built Rasputin because after a certain point I think Rasputin designed and built himself, but I also don't know a shorter way to say it.

#Destiny 2 #output generated #this is the wager of existence

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justafoxhound · 7 months

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WIP whenever

tagged by @dirty-bosmer to share a wip🤗

Today I was inspired by my current fo3 game where i've hired jericho. What if Talia hired him to help her make the trip to Tenpenny Tower?(Honestly i feels like this could be a major edit to Atomic Smitten..!)

tagging @jentucker (you wanted this!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kid, I didn’t sign on with you to play fuckin’ Santa Claus out here.”

Talia could feel the eyes on her back as she stormed ahead of her companion, leaving the thirsty beggar in the humming Megaton dirt.

“You pull any of that shit again and I’m gone.”

Talia stopped in her tracks and turned about to face the man yelling after her. “Excuse me?”

“You fuckin’ heard me,” he barked, jabbing the air with the bottle of purified water he’d just yanked from the beggar’s grasp. “In fact, if you’re gonna make me repeat myself like you’re some fuckin’ moron, I’m outta here as well.”

Talia blinked in astonishment. “I- Jesus Christ, are you for real? I paid you didn’t I? You’re gonna bail over a sip of water?”

His permanent scowl grew harsher. “Listen, you stuck up Vault bitch. You only paid me half. You fuck around givin’ away useful stuff like this, waste my time, bore me, and I’ll take my half back to Moriarty’s right fuckin’ now. Got no problem getting drunk instead of babysittin’ you.”

Talia’s stomach lurched. “You’ll get your other half. I promised, didn’t I? Jericho, come on.” She urged him to continue with her away from town. She couldn’t make this trip alone. At least not now she’d given him every cap she had after begging Mr. Burke for an advance on the pay he promised on completion of his request. “The caps are yours, but we have to get to Tenpenny Tower to get paid.”

Jericho glared from a few paces away. “And if this turns out to be a fuckin’ merry-go-round? Whole thing’s fucked up. I hope you’ll still be feelin’ so charitable if we find out there’s nobody up there, ‘cause I’m gonna be real pissed.”

Talia stifled a shiver. This was almost definitely not a good idea. Maybe she could have taken her chances alone. But it was too late now. Plus, she’d seen the claw marks on one of the town’s brahmin. Not all of the Vault stories about mutants were exaggeration. “No, sir,” she declared. “There’s plenty of people there. And when I say this guy is expecting us, we’ll get straight in, I swear.” I hope.

Jericho sniffed and took a noisy swig from the water bottle. “Yeah? This guy, Burke, he for real?”

Talia nodded profusely. “He had five hundred caps in his pocket to give me. And he’s from Tenpenny Tower so surely he’s good for it, and he wants the job done.” She put up a convincing argument, partly to assure herself too. The well dressed visitor had offered her one thousand caps for a simple, if extreme, job. She wasn’t sure it wasn’t just his strange idea of a sick joke. People on the surface were different, and he wasn’t like anybody she’d encountered in this town.

Jericho seemed to finish his thought, losing the animal intensity that had briefly sharpened his gaze. “Yeah, I seen him around. Had plenty to spend around town every day. Alright, let’s get goin’ before I change my mind.”

Talia nodded and hurried to match her mercenary’s quick pace, albeit keeping well out of arm’s reach. The old, grizzled, wasteland tough guy hadn’t given her a second glance in Moriarty’s saloon. But she wondered if he hadn’t heard some of her conversation with Mr. Burke, because as soon as she approached him about work escorting her across the wasteland he’d hit her pretty quick with a steep price of exactly one thousand caps. He’d seemed pretty surprised when she actually ponied up half that.

She breathed a little easier once he’d walked more than a minute without complaining. She didn't doubt he’d walk away with her caps and leave her in more of a mess than she already was, so she resolved to try to keep quiet and just get to the tower. But if she had to coddle him to keep him happy, she would. She’d pinned all hope of living beyond a week on Mr. Burke’s outrageous offer, couldn’t back out, and she had to reach him first. He held all the baskets, and she only had one egg, and she’d given it to Jericho.

“The fuck you givin’ this away here for anyway? Won’t do him any good.” Jericho interrupted her thoughts, brandishing the water bottle.

“I was just gonna give him a sip. I thought I was gonna die of thirst when I got out the Vault.”

He sniffed. “I don’t get it.”

She didn’t try to explain. “Can I have it please?”

He tossed a glance her way. “No. Not to waste it on dead men.”

“I’m thirsty. Anyway, I swiped it from Moriarty fair and square.”

“No shit? I thought this was Vault water. That fucker holds all the best stuff back. What was he chargin’?”

“Um, like, thirty caps?”

Jericho snorted. “Man, robbery without gettin’ off your ass. He don’t bother get his hands dirty. It’s gotta get boring though, if you ask me. You get anything stronger?”

Talia shook her head uncertainly, mumbling an apology.

“Shit.” Jericho tossed the water her way. “First bottle of booze you see is mine.”

She agreed, muffling her sigh of relief at catching the water without stumbling. It was going to be a long walk.

#tag game #wip #oc: talia #atomic smitten #jericho #fo3

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lyon-amore · 1 year

Text

The half of me Chapter 1

Prologue

MC widened her eyes, remembering that moment twenty years ago. Strangely, it had returned to her memory. Although it was not surprising, she had been too strange for months, something was not right. She knew that feeling was not hers. She sat up in bed, letting out a sigh. That was already a thing of the past, everything was fine. Since that arrest, no more murders of children had occurred. Not in series at least, no matter how sad it sounded to say it.

She picked up her phone and looked at the messages. She had a special group with the Duskwood group to talk about Hannah's trial, which was not yet known when it was going to take place. It was quite a difficult case, almost all the evidence had already disappeared. There were only testimonials written by Hannah and Amy... And then there was Richy... She closed her eyes at the thought of him. It didn't matter anymore. She couldn't change what happened.

She also noticed the other group she had with them, plus her sister. Daliah. When she introduced her friends, they immediately took a liking her and so did she. Her twin sister had always been something of a magnet for making friends. It was a relief that despite everything that had happened as a child, she had managed to get over it and move on with her life. She chuckled as she read the conversation. Her sister really fit in better than her. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daliah And then I said: eh, excuse me, but my eyes are up, not on the cupcakes 🙄

Jessy 🤭

Daliah The guy approached me just because he was bringing the cupcakes for the classes 😤

Dan Wait, isn't that some kind of code 'cupcakes' all this time? Were you really talking about cupcakes?

Cleo And what else did you want her to talk about, Dan? 😅

Daliah Oops! Dan! Please! Were you thinking about boobs? 😏

Dan Please! I'm not one of those! I know how to treat the ladies! Before I would have hit that guy for being a pig with you 🤜

Jessy A true gentleman our Dan All fixing it by force 🙄

Dan Some don't understand the good way, precious

Jessy 🤔 In that I give you the reason 😝 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC let out a laugh. Daliah really knew how to win people over. It could be said that she had ''stolen'' her friends. But she was glad. It was the first group of friends that she had and that she could share with her sister. She always had her. Always worrying about her. Daliah had been her whole world even though she had her own, with far more friends than she could imagine.

She decided to join the chat. There was still a bit left for the interview, she even had time to prepare. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC And I'll be happy to help you, Dan Who do we need to hit? 🤜 🤛

Daliah You? Hit? If you are a stick! They blow you and you fall 😋

MC OMG! Look how badly my sister treats me! What a shame!

Dan Well She is partly right

MC OOOMG! You too?! 😤

Jessy Calm down MC! I defend you from those two! 💪

----Lilly is online----

Lilly Really look at you guys being loud when you want to 🙄 I can't stop receiving notifications

MC Lilly, defend me from my sister!

Lilly Daliah Don't mess with MC

MC But put more effort! 😭

Lilly 😊 😉 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She put the phone aside and got out of bed to go shower. The sooner she could get ready, the less nervous she would be.

She made herself the coffee and looked at her phone again. She really looks like she's waiting for a special message. His message. But what nonsense, right? She herself had put up a barrier a long time ago. She had even deleted his chat. After alerting him that the FBI was in Grimrock, she received nothing. No message. She preferred it that way. It wasn't a good idea to get her hopes up with someone who might put her in danger. But Nymos' chat was still there, watching her with that red eye in the profile picture. She sometimes use it to write it down, as if it were a notepad. Many of those messages sent were ideas for songs that she had composed. She wondered how she hadn't deleted Nymos' chat if there was no danger around her anymore. It was just another lump in the chat.

But she left it. Vigilant.

Maybe it was her hope to talk to him again.

She shook her head and put her phone back in her jean pocket. She was making a fool of herself. She had already pushed her feelings back when she knew that he was being persecuted by the government. Even though it hurt her, she had to do it. For her sake.

It was almost time for the interview. It was the… Tenth? Eleventh? She had lost count, perhaps there had been more. When they found out who she was, many backed down when they saw that she was the MC of the controversy. Others let her at least work for a few weeks as a test. But they just needed someone to get things done for them before the inspector arrived. Her parents helped support her apartment and she hated it. She felt like a burden to them. It had been a burden on everyone since what had happened. Always looking out for her. And MC, looking out for her sister. Since childs. Together.

She arrived at the bar where she had posted her resume and waited for the owner. She was nervous, she didn't know how it was going to turn out. "MC?" A woman appeared next to her, causing the young woman to get up to say hello "Hi, I’m Caterina, the owner." "Hello, nice to meet you." the young MC put on her best smile, avoiding being nervous. "Well…" the woman sat down and the brunette did the same. The owner had the girl's resume in her hands "It doesn't seem like you've lasted long enough in the last few jobs, what happened?" "Oh, well…" MC she fixed her hair nervously "They just needed me to give them a hand-" "Excuse me for breaking it out, but are you MC Gardner? The one about Hannah's kidnapping?" She asked narrowing her eyes, looking at her as if she were scanning her. <<Here we go again.>> "Yes, but-" "Wow, that's amazing" Caterina laughed ", I'm sure our clients would like to see you then." MC shook her head, not understanding what she was hearing. Did she want to be her carnival monkey? "Excuse me, but how would the clients like to see me?" She asked a little awkwardly. "Come on Miss Gardner" the woman tossed her resume on the table, sliding it over ", don't you think that would be a great deal?" You working here, we earn a lot of money having the heroine of Duskwood" she leaned on the table with a feline smile ". We would both make a lot of money, people love these detective stories." MC sighed, scratching the side of her forehead. They were there again, seeing only the girl who saved Hannah. Not a normal person. "And everyone is curious about the hacker involved" MC looked at her upon hearing those words ". My goodness, when the news broke that even the FBI was in that place because they were looking for that criminal, the world exploded. Where is he now? You know?" It was not the first time that someone asked her about that mysterious man that the FBI was looking for. Everyone was curious why a criminal was also involved in Hannah's case. The young woman sighed. She had to relax. "The truth is that I don't know what you are talking about." the brunette said coldly, with a touch of pain in her voice. "Well, the FBI questioned you, right?" The woman made herself comfortable, as if she were enjoying an action movie "There was a lot of talk in the press" MC felt that her whole body was beginning to tense up. She wanted to leave ". Between us. Did you have sex with him? Was it exciting to be with a criminal?" MC got up from the table, grabbing her bag and her jacket. Uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but I think I'm done with this job." She was saying as she left. "Okay, I'm sorry" Caterina stood up, moving closer to her ". I won't name him again, but think about it!" She took her shoulders, shaking her slowly "We would earn a lot of money if you work here, you would take 40% more than the rest of the waiters, what do you say?" She licked her lips, now dry from being nervous. "I'll think about it." MC finally answered, removing her hands from her shoulders. "Think about it before the end of the week" the woman smiled at her ". But I can raise the offer if you want." "As I said" MC placed her hand on the door, opening it ", I'll think about it." She left there taking strong and fast steps, wanting to get away from her.

She felt severe pain in her chest. She didn't want to know about him. He had abandoned her, leaving her with the weight of his responsibility. Besides, she hadn't even seen him! Never! How to trust him? In someone who had given her a lifetime of recognition for being a possible accomplice to a criminal? Perhaps it was her resentment that it was talking about because he left her worried, not knowing if he was okay, if he needed help, and if everything had been a lie? What if since he had already rescued Hannah, they would no longer need to maintain contact? She thought that she could at least have him as her friend, but not even if she wants that, he was gone, he had vanished like smoke. And she hoped he would stay that way.

She took out her phone to tell the group. Well... she wouldn't go into details that she had taken an interest in him, she preferred not to talk to them about that person. And more with Lilly in the group, still worried. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC Bad and sad news The owner only wanted me to earn money for who I am 😒

----Cleo is online----

Cleo Wow, I'm so sorry ☹️

MC No matter

----Dan is online---- ----Lilly is online---- ----Daliah is online----

Dan But what's wrong with everyone? Why so interested in what you did after a year?

MC Because I live in a small town? And here the news flies like Duskwood Or worse 😑

Daliah TRUE I still remember how the rumor spread that the postwoman and the priest had had sex in his sister's barn 😂

----Jessy is online----

Jessy What what?! 😱

Lilly I think now I'm much happier to be from Duskwood...

MC 😩 Seriously, sometimes I think that I should leave this cursed town…

Daliah No, I go first and through the big door as an actress 💅

Jessy But then, you didn't get the job? Was it all a trap? 😔

MC Yeah Ugh… Well, I'll go home... I have to record some demos…

Daliah Wait! I go to your house to see you and we talk about it OK?

MC OK Goodbye to the rest then

Cleo Remember that you can also come to Duskwood if you need to clear your head a bit 😟

MC Thank you Cleo I will surely go this weekend

Dan Great, I'll go buy the drinks then! 😎 Daliah, you will come too, won't you?

Daliah Mmm… We'll see if I can 🤔

Jessy Cheer up MC Then we talk about it? 😊

MC Yes ok...

Lilly See you later MC 🙁 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She put the phone away, holding her breath. It was lucky that she at least had them to carry on.

Once at home, she left her shoes lying at the entrance, going towards her room, to pick up the guitar from next to the bed and preparing the microphone and the computer to record.

Soft notes came out of that instrument. She had been composing that melody for a long time. He had him in her head and he wouldn't go away, like an implanted memory. "If my fear had not prevailed" she began to sing softly, words that had suddenly appeared in her head "Would I have been able to tell you what I feel?" She stopped playing the guitar, noticing what she had said. She sighed and leaned against the instrument, trying to figure out what was wrong with her now. She had said that she would not think of him. But there was that little regret. When she heard the doorbell, she shook her head, ignoring those thoughts. She got up straight to the door. She had to be Daliah.

Opening it, she saw that her sister's brown hair had turned dark blonde and short, she stared at her in amazement. “My twin sensors were telling me you weren't okay.” Daliah said, as soon as she opened the door. "But what have you done to yourself?" MC asked smiling, touching her sister's soft hair. "Do you like it?" Daliah entered her house, posing later like a model "I've been at the hairdresser's all morning, I needed…" she began to think, snapping her fingers "A change, dazzling" she pouted, like a model. MC laughed, hugging her sister. Daliah hugged her back, stroking her sister's back lovingly. Just as she thought, MC was not fine. She could feel it in the strong hug that she gave her, unable to separate from her. "Okay, let's go." she separated her, putting a red mask on her eyes, taking her hand to walk out the door while she took her keys from the key ring on the wall. "Wait!" MC raised the mask, returning to her apartment "I'm not wearing shoes!" "Well, put them on and don't take this off." She lowered the mask, with a laugh "I have a surprise!" "Surprises don't suit me much..." "This one will go!" MC raised the mask again, looking at her sister with half-closed eyes. "Are you taking me to meet Chris Hemsworth?" "MC, if I knew Chris Hemsworth, the last thing I would do is introduce him to you." Daliah replied, tapping her on the shoulder. Both sisters laughed and MC put her mask back on with her shoes already on.

During the car ride, they began to sing, forgetting any worries. Without Daliah, she surely would have stayed in bed continuing to write sad songs. Without Daliah, surely everything that happened would not have been handled well. Her sister was her best friend, the most important person in the world. Both were a great strength.

"Okay, we're here." Daliah waved her hand in front of the mask, checking to see if she could see anything. "Are you fanning me?" MC asked with a laugh. "I wanted to check if you didn't see anything." "And do you do it now and not before leaving?" "I was in a hurry, you can't expect me to do everything one step at a time." MC shook her head, removing the belt. Daliah got out first to help her sister out of the car so she wouldn't trip. The brunette extended her arms, trying to guide herself by touch, thus touching an older man in the street. Which caused the blonde to laugh. "I'm sorry, sir" she took her sister's hands, lowering them ". Careful or they'll sue you for harassment." “Come on Daliah, can I take off my mask now?” She reached for the garment, but she was stopped by her sister. "No, not yet." They took a few steps forward and stopped. Daliah took out some keys and MC tried to find out what it was about. She had raised some kind of metal blind. Where were they? "Just a little..." She heard other keys and how she opened a door "Almost, now we have to go in." she pushed her slowly, entering a cold place. "Dahlia, come on-" The blonde sister took off her mask and the brunette stared at the place. It was a store with salmon-colored walls and stickers with golden birds all over the wall. There were some vintage looking white bookshelves and a chandelier with several crystals. "What is this?" MC asked, looking all surprised. It was a beautiful and very delicate place. "Our new store." her sister replied, handing her the key. MC looked doubtful, not believing what she was hearing. She held out her hand, accepting the keys. Even that seemed old. "I don't get it." she looked at the blonde again, confused. "Mom had been wanting to open an antiques store for some time" Daliah began to walk, showing her sister the place "and we were talking about how hard it is to find a job in this gossipy town" MC laughed, holding back tears ", so from now on, you and mom are going to run this place. A… Small family business." MC started to cry more, hugging her sister. The blonde returned the hug, with a smile.

Daliah separated her and made a signal for her to wait, going to another room. MC heard how she dragged something from her and saw her coming out with a white chair, trying to move it. "Yeah... Almost..." Daliah said between shoving. "And then I'm the stick." MC laughed, approaching her to help her. They both managed to pick it up and place it in front of where the counter was supposed to be, sitting on it and looking at the wide, shiny window, with people on the street walking past. "Thanks Daliah" MC looked at her sister with a smile ", I needed to get out of that apartment for a bit." "Let me guess." Daliah placed her hands on her head, concentrating ". You were thinking about… That creepy guy again, right?" The brunette avoided looking at her. Yes, she had been right. "Only because the owner of the bar has named him" answered MC annoyed ", not because I wanted to." "Ugh, when will the people of this town learn to keep their mouths shut?" Daliah threw her head back, letting out a big sigh "But hey, it doesn't matter, Because why? You no longer have to look for a job." "Yes, this will come in handy." MC continued to look at the store, with a still indelible smile. "And this weekend, the opening party" her sister tapped her on the leg, to get her attention ", we're going to invite your friends, mine, mom's friends… It's going to be a great party!" MC nodded. Obviously there was good for Daliah behind all of this. "I knew you were going to do something like that" laughed MC, tapping her face with her finger ", if you don't have a party, you're not satisfied." "Hey! It's to celebrate that we're saving your life from her" she stopped her hands, placing them on her legs, so that she behaved like a good girl "and so I have an excuse to invite Phil." "No." "Yes." "Nooo…" "What's wrong?" the blonde asked with a mischievous smile. MC raised her hands to her head. She didn't like Phil at all. Knowing the reputation he had in Duskwood, she didn't even want to think about what would happen if she invited him to Rosenschwarz on top of that. For him, a place where no woman knew his name, surely it was going to be "a day of hunting" perfect. "That guy is an idiot" answered MC, looking at her with a disgusted face ", the only thing that he has come to treat well in his whole life has been the bar." "Well" Daliah shrugged, smiling mischievously ", at least he's not bad when you fuck with him." MC's eyes widened so much that it looked like they were going to pop out. She couldn't believe that news. And just now! Because counting, they only saw each other twice, the first when he got out of jail and the second when she asked to accompany her to Duskwood. "No…" MC repeated again "Tell me you haven't slept with him?" "The poor thing needed a little contact when he got out of jail-" "Nope, I don't want to hear it." MC covered her ears, shaking her head. Daliah laughed, resting her head on her shoulder. "And little sister, you don't know what you're missing. How he moves in bed!" "Daliah, you're crazy!" MC pushed her, but gently. The blonde laughed, pushing her in the same way. "I like him" MC looked at her sister, not believing what she was hearing ". I know, he's not a ''Prince Charming'', but I don't know…” she twisted her mouth, thinking. "Have you fallen in love with him?" MC asked curiously, leaning on the back of the sofa. "I wouldn't say I'm in love" Daliah leaned in as well, looking at her sister ". You know how my last relationship was..." “You never told me what happened with Elliot and why you left him." "We just weren't looking for the same thing" the blonde stretched, with a smile "and with Phil, I don't have to worry about that, I can just have him as a fuck buddy and that's it." MC rolled his eyes, ruffling her hair. "This is abuse!" Daliah exclaimed, with a laugh "You can't mistreat my new hairstyle like that!" "Then go report me to Elliot." MC stood up, offering her hand to help her get up from the sofa "Are you coming home? I can prepare the lasagna that you like." "I can't, I'd have to go to class now" She looked at her cell phone and sighed ". We have to prepare for one last final class project, a horror short movie” She put the phone away and now looked at her sister ". But I can have that lasagna for dinner." "Perfect then."

They both left the store, closing it again. MC looked at Daliah, concerned. She didn't think a horror movie was good for her, knowing that she was still going to therapy. "Hey Daliah" MC tapped on the car, hesitating a little whether to tell her or not "Are you okay?" "Yes" her sister answered, approaching the car ", why do you ask?" "I don't know" she shrugged her shoulders, a little uncomfortable ". I've been dreaming about what happened for months, from when we were little girls and I wondered if... If something worried you." Daliah swallowed hard. Those memories were a bit forgettable, but she coped as best she could. In the end she nodded, with a small smile. "Don't worry, MC" Daliah replied, opening the car ", it's normal that sometimes I remember it." They got into the car and MC continued to look at her with even more concern. She sensed that something wasn't right, but knowing that if she kept asking questions she could make it worse, she decided it was best to wait until she wanted to talk about it. “I feel like listening to Taylor Swift.” Daliah said, changing the subject “What do you think? "You're the driver, you set the rules." MC raised her hands in surrender. "Well, then to the great Taylor Swift." she smiled, searching her phone, before starting off.

As before, they sang again at the top of their lungs, although perhaps to relieve the weight that each one felt in her chest. They both felt each other's concern, so it was a bit difficult for them to ignore it. But in order not to worry each other, they preferred to wait until everything was calm. With the class project and her disappointment at the interview, perhaps it was better to leave it to talk about it over dinner.

When she got home, she noticed thats he had left the program recording. MC heaved a big sigh, looking at the recording time. "I was going to delete it anyway." she said, hearing that she had managed to record the neighbors. She reset the recording to zero and picked up the guitar. This time, she began to think about her new store. In the gift her sister had given her. A joy that day. Her sister was a real hero, not her.

While MC was preparing dinner for that night, she received a message from Jessy. The redhead had become her first best friend —after her sister— and also, that they both shared a secret that they hadn't told anyone. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jessy I just got an invite from Daliah You are going to open a store! 😲 😲

MC YEAH! 😄 My mother and sister have kept it from me all this time! Job hunting is over! I will have my own business! 🥳

Jessy That's great! Well, it is clear that she has invited all of us, because when we have met, we have been talking about it Although in my invitation I put an extra ''Try to convince Phil to come over 🙏 😏''

MC Oh… This girl...

Jessy Do they have something?

MC I have no idea 🤷‍♀️ But if she's happy that he's going, then there's no problem with me.

Jessy Phil was pleased that she remembered him So I guess he will go 🤭

MC My worst nightmare… Let those two pair up...

Jessy Maybe Daliah will help him settle down

MC If that's possible, then I crown her as Saint Daliah 😂

Jessy I also wanted to tell you something else The case of Hannah's kidnapping is still open They keep wondering why they didn't find two bodies instead of one,

MC Did you tell them that it was Richy?

Jessy No… I have not dared... And still I feel bad not telling it But at the same time… I don't dare say it was him...

MC I know… I cannot either… I still find it hard to believe it was Richy... I don't know… We're supposed to get along...

Jessy And you two did! Perhaps… In other circumstances, he would have dared….

MC Dare what?

Jessy Nothing, forget it I have to go I have a date

MC OH! With who??? 😲

Jessy Ha, ha! Is a secret 😝 We'll talk tomorrow 👋 😊

MC I will want the details!!! 😋

Jessy Yeah, yeah 🤭

----Jessy is offline---- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC put music on after talking to Jessy. She needed to focus. And what better than preparing dinner with music? She decided to put up a playlist where there was no romance at all. She didn't want to be distracted by the thoughts of him again. “Daliah and Phil…” she murmured, preparing the lasagna pasta “The world is too crazy for me."

She waited and waited. Daliah was running late for dinner.

She called on the phone, worried. But she didn't pick up the phone. Getting more worried, she texted him. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC Daliah, where are you? Seriously, I'm worrying... Call me soon ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MC began to walk around the room, winding a lock around her finger, pulling a little on it. Something inside her was telling her something was wrong. Her sister was not one to respond late.

Hearing the message notification tone, she did not hesitate to pick up the phone twice. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daliah I'm fine, troublesome! I have been distracted by a very cute boy 🤭

MC Daliah! 😩

Daliah I'm sorry But I think I won't be able to make it to dinner

MC Oh no… Seriously? 😑

Daliah Forgive me, okay? 🙏

MC Alright…

Daliah And another thing!

MC Yeah?

Daliah I want you to know that you're cool Remember that, ok?

MC ?? Sure But what is this about now?

Daliah I don't know I wanted to say it

MC You're cooler than me

Daliah I know But that we both know 😜 Goodbye MC

MC See you tomorrow Daliah

----Daliah is offline---- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, she's missing it" MC smiled, watching the dinner ". Well, I'll save a little for tomorrow."

She began to stir in her sleep. In her dreams, she managed to see a large lake. She recognized it. Lake Mount. Named for the wild horses that would come to drink water. She felt that something was wrong. Her heart was beating fast and her breathing was rough. That lake terrified her. But that terror was different. It wasn't her terror. Why did she dream of the past again? And more than one place that she had never set foot on. Since that case, she didn’t dare to step on that place. Something or someone tugged at her, shoving her by the ankle into the lake. She tried to grab the ground with her nails, breaking them and staining the floor with blood. As soon as she noticed the water, on her body, she tried to catch air to breathe underwater.

She didn't know what happened, but it didn't work. She couldn't breathe. She coughed as if she had water in her lungs.

She opened her eyes to the ringing of the phone. She wouldn't stop shaking. Her phone rested next to the bed, on the nightstand. She hadn't turned it off like those months before. That discomfort still weighed on her. And, unfortunately, that night the discomfort, the weight of feeling empty, it was present.

Something had happened.

The phone continued to ring. She decided to take it. “Hello?” she asked shakily. No one called at those hours just to say hello. "Miss MC Gardner?" "Yes, it's me" MC recognized the man's voice, but he didn't remember it from where. "I'm Police Officer Otis Lang" That name was like flipping a switch. She started to cry even before he told her the next thing ". I'm sorry to break it to you, but we think we found the body of your sister Daliah and we need you to identify her." That's when, with those words, another part of her had vanished.

Chapter 2

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfic #duskwood everbyte #everbyte #everbyte studio

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