#and friendship goes both ways but the ways are not symmetrical to each other

[teenthoughtsblog]

FRENEMIES

I am Arunima (please use Aru to address me). I am thirteen, and I go to school like any normal teen. In 8th grade, it’s like a whirlpool of emotions and thoughts. I feel obligated to cram as much education as I can into my brain and push forward for these last few years of school. But that being said, these are my last few years of school and possibly of my childhood. Every day I’m confused about the way forward, and today was no different.

 It was like any usual day. I struggled to wake up and get ready for school. When I boarded my school bus I dozed off as per usual, catching up on last night’s sleep. The assembly was no different with many students yawning and chatting amongst themselves. The first few classes went by in a blur (a rather boring one at that) I struggled to stay awake, let alone consciously pay attention (all courtesy of the late-night binge-watching of stranger things). As I slept the teacher must have yapped about something important because when she questioned me about the lesson, and I, flustered, answered incorrectly, she had a look of heeding malice on her cold and bony face. In homeroom, we discussed our lives’ regrets and satisfactions. At the moment I was bored, and couldn’t care less about what we did in homeroom. I remember my answer being something as general as not picking up a particular hobby.

On the bus ride home, while snacking on kurkures, and doing my homework, I couldn’t focus. 

Normally I would finish all the work given on my ride home and laze around in the afternoon, but that day fate was made for me to keep getting distracted. After a few attempts of doing my homework and packing my bag, I just gave up and decided to have dinner and go to bed early. An hour went by and I still couldn’t get myself to close my eyes and get rest for more than ten minutes. There was a cold lump in my throat, and it was not because of the unnaturally low temperature of my thermostat (as put by my beloved mom). After tossing and turning in bed for quite a while, I realized that all this drama was because of the small, insignificant discussion in homeroom.

 Without me putting much thought into it, that one question had seeped in and manipulated my whole day. Now that I sleeplessly put more thought into it, I stand corrected. My answer wouldn’t be something as brief and over the top as a missed hobby. It would be something in a completely different dimension. Something many would label as childish. A FRIENDSHIP.

 I met Shravya when we were both four, on our first day of kindergarten. I was a timid and observant child, and she was more on the outgoing and vivacious side. It all started when she came up to me and tugged at my braids. I went on to grab hold of her collar and poke her with all my might. That was followed by an obnoxious round of tickling each other and giggling. A bond finally formed over a tiffin exchange at recess and we instantly started to grow close.

 Overtime Shravya and I became like two peas in a pod, and by the end of kindergarten, everyone knew us as the two best friends who couldn’t stand a day without talking to each other. Like everything good comes to an end, the blissful phase with Shravya came crashing down as we were separated in first grade.

Those two years with Shravya were eventful, joyous and we both enjoyed them so much that we probably still know every single incident to the  last detail. We had a countless number of pool parties, sleepovers, Masterchef challenges, mud fights, and fashion shows just to name a few of our many playdate activities. Our families had also met and come close together. We had even taken a vacation to Agra together. When Shravya’s brother was born and all the spotlight was supposedly stolen from her, she would keep complaining and crying, and I, forever the listener, consoled her and offered comfort with several sleepovers and playdates.

Time passed and my friendship with Shravya remained unwavering. Over time, we did hit some rough patches, but we being best friends, we always made up. Little did I know we would go on a ballistic rollercoaster ride. After being separated from 1st to 4th grade, we were overjoyed to finally come back together in 5th grade. On the first day of class 5, we sat together and chatted a LOT. No one could blame us, because we were two besties catching up on four years of being in separate classes. We shared classwork, helped each other with homework and in general, our time was blissful. 

Then musical afternoon made its appearance. In our school, it’s a huge deal where there's a theme each year and all the classes form groups and perform songs in many languages. I remember that year the theme was heartbreak. The moment the theme was announced, everyone started talking about songs and groups to form. I rushed over to Shravya and started talking about a particularly emotional song I had in mind. At the time she blatantly agreed to everything that I said to pacify my racing mind. The next day when I unexpectedly arrived at her house with high hopes, the door was slammed on my face., leaving me confused and heartbroken. The events that occurred in the next phase, which I call the frenemies phase, really matched the musical theme of that year. 

From that day Shravya and I were on mutilated terms and she gave treatment worse than ignoring me, aka that silent treatment. Slowly the emotions inside me changed from heartbreak to disbelief and finally anger. I threw a huge tantrum back at home. My mind went into a frenzy.

 One minute I would be ripping my hair out and cursing with an astonishing speed, and then, immediately after I’d be a heap on the floor, sobbing my heart out. Days passed like this. As much as I have reluctance admitting this, but life went on, and so did our journey. Shravya was forever the socialite and had no difficulty in moving on and making new friends. I, on the other hand, would much rather keep to myself than be the expected extrovert. In a blink of the eye, Shravya had got herself an arsenal of new friends or what many Indians would recognize as chelas. My abysmal communication skills didn’t make forming friendships any easier. Her grades hiked, whereas mine dipped, she seemed buoyant and carefree, and my emotions took a toll for the worse. In general, her life had seemingly improved, and mine had taken the other path.

This feud of sorts lasted for more than a year, and in that period both of us had changed, developed, and ameliorated. A LOT. But, as the old saying goes, never judge a book by its cover. One day I ran into the person that I had learned to despise in the past year. Shravya. But there was something wrong with the person who was one of the reasons my life had hit the downward spirals.

 As I knocked on the door of an occupied bathroom stall to request the occupant to hurry up, I heard faint sobbing. Knocking harder and more persistently got her to open the door, revealing my former best friend in the most disheveled state imaginable. She was all hunched up, her neat uniform all crumpled up and her perfectly symmetrical make-up smudged. Humanity overtook the petty grudges inside me and I rushed to help her up. After getting her to calm down, she started her recital.

 “I’m..I’m..I’m” sorry was what shocked me. The stubbornness Shravya had displayed in all the years of being together, made me ponder on what this girl could want to apologize for?. I, however, was broken out of my train of thought when she started to sob again. “My life looks so good on the exterior, but inside it's just a confused pile of emotions and actions. I don’t know what to do..”

My mind went into a serious conflict mode, with one half of me wanting to keep my distance because of the way I’d been treated in this past year, and the other half, the more humane half of me, wanted to hear her out and comfort the damsel in distress. Both of my sides came to a compromise of sorts when I listened to what she had to say with a sour and displeasing expression.

“After our falling out, my mom and dad were very disappointed in me for treating you like that. I got a whole lot of speeches ‘never going back on your word’, ‘always stay true to what you and loved ones believe in’, and ‘what goes around, comes back’. At this I chuckled, shaking my head. “And yes, what I did to you did come back to bite me hard.” My eyebrows fought back all my brain's warnings and shot up into a surprised expression. “After we stopped talking, I went through many friendships, but everyone would break it off abruptly in some manner.” I wanted to apologize and make things right with you, but I figured you would be mad at me.” “Well, that and your astonishingly high standing ego”. Now it was her turn to chuckle. “Yeah, well that too.” 

That got me to smile the brightest I’d smiled since the day we got our not so happily ever after. “It's okay, I understand that, but I’ll never be ready to go back where we had been before you know what.” I pulled Shravya into a hug and whispered, “Like the old days, we’ve made up. AGAIN. But-“We’ll keep our distance.” She completed the sentence for me, knowing what I meant from the bottom of my heart. At that, I tightened the embrace I’d pulled her into.

What goes around, comes back, and the old days came back. The frenemies phase did both of us good.

#frenemies #short fiction #short story #teen author #blog

[shamelessliarkickapow]

my “coming to Zutara” story

I knew when I started watching A;TLA that Zuko and Katara didn’t end up together, because my besty got me into the show by making me watch the s3 series finale. Excerpt of that conversation:

him: ur really gonna like this show. watch it with me plz me: Nah. The eyeballs on that protagonist are way too round and cutesy. Is he riding a giant dustmop? I am an adult. Hard pass. him: no really, it’s such a good show, the bending is based on real martial arts styles *goes on about it* me: Meh. This is a lot more whimsy than I’m willing to embrace for the sake of our friendship. Too silly. Not doing it. him: OH YEAH WATCH THIS

And then it happened. 

The epic fight scenes of those last episodes caught my attention (as did shirtless Ozai whooo) and even though there was a weird, unexplained moment at the end where the cool waterbender kissed the kid hero, I was sold. Besty convinced me to watch more. We watched the bloodbending episode and the Ember Island Players episode, and even though I didn’t have a lot of context for the jokes, I loved how excited Toph was about her depiction. I loved how unhappy all the others were about theirs, and how much nuance of character and world that conveyed. 

It took me a few years to get around to watching the earlier seasons, so when I finally saw the first episodes, I was so confused. Who is that shouting kid with the ponytail? Why is Sokka being such a jerk to his sister? Haha, Iroh is adorable and kooky! Wow, Katara did so much for the resistance! Blue Spirit whaaaat? o so that’s how he got the scar

If it had just been the waterbending scroll episode, Zutara wouldn’t have held traction for me. Not the way it has. But then s1 ended with that incredible fight at the north pole. And suddenly this other, kind of hidden arc became apparent. in the first episode of the season, Zuko stepped off his ship with all the power and Katara stood on the ice with none at all. By the end of that season, Katara had claimed her power, had fought hard to get it, and she and Zuko were matched.

From that moment on, Zuko and Katara were pitted against each other in my mind. They had this symmetry, reflected by all the Yin Yang imagery throughout that sequence, and I was amazed that despite the vast difference between their upbringings, they were somehow still both so intensely driven by hope and love. They had this kindred spirit that would obviously draw them together if they would just talk through their problems.

Which totally happened in Crossroads of Destiny! They connected, they had a moment, they each saw their own pain mirrored in the other and they got it. I was disappointed that Zuko chose to regress rather than join Team Avatar then, but it also made so much sense. Hope, right? As long as there was hope that he could reconcile with his family, he had to pursue it. But that didn’t negate the connection he had forged with Katara.

Watching s3 again after so long, I recognized the richness that had built up in the series, how every character had undergone some kind of transformation and growth. There were still kiddish gags, but the content had matured. The music had matured. The kids had gotten tougher and stronger and more complete within themselves. And even though I had seen a good part of s3 before and I knew how it ended, I kept expecting Katara and Zuko to share some romantic moment after their reconciliation. I knew it wasn’t going to happen but I was still waiting for it, because it would have satisfied my need to see their threads come to the same symmetrical resolution. Both of them powerful, upstanding heroes. Both of them celebrated and respected, continuing to work hard to improve their world...

(I promised I wouldn’t go into the INSTEAD portion of this story. i.e. INSTEAD the cool waterbender kissed the kid hero. INSTEAD Katara drops her power like its hot and winds up a healer/homemaker at the South Pole... Bahhh)

So then fanfiction happened. Like, a lot of it. I read so many stories but i couldn’t find the one I wanted. Because what I wanted was specific. A story with hidden identities and political intrigue but also action and sexual tension that actually culminated in smut - but most especially I wanted Zuko and Katara to stay true to character, come through it on equal footing, and arrive at a balanced partnership. I wanted the symmetry that the show promised me.

The moral of the story, I guess, is that a good show, a really good show, can never truly be spoiled with spoilers. Surprises are just tricks, they’re only really interesting for the second it takes to come to terms with them. It’s the steady inevitable path that a story travels that makes it great - the story it awakens inside you - and knowing where things are headed doesn’t necessarily mean you might as well read the cliffnotes. 

Speaking of... TL;DR - this one time my besty ruined Avatar for me but I forgave him bcs it’s actually a complex and compelling story, and it really wasn’t about Ozai’s chest at all anyway.

#zutara #idk #personal bloglike posts? #sometimes people like reading about this stuff? #I needed a break from NaNoWriMo #And holidays #o god holidays

[liketherogue]

Gigantic & PAX West Decompression (9/6)

Been a while since I posted about games, but August was a rather weird month for me. Aside from making and releasing my first game, friends came up to visit, job-hunted, and questioned my career choices. Standard stuff.

To start off with, last weekend I attended PAX West in what was my 2nd full convention, 2.5 overall (interesting story that involves a Portal sweater, Chipotle, and testing the bonds of friendship). PAX was a truly amazing experience that further cemented my drive to be in the video game industry, no matter the capacity. My problem has been where exactly that niche is. At 24 years old, I’ve got a bit of a late start compared to other people. But, as I have told myself and other people have told me, it’s wrong to think of the past few years as a waste. Without them, without the struggles I endured, I wouldn’t be in a position now where it truly feels like I’m following my passion. 

It does get hard sometimes. Despite my best efforts, comparison will always seep through, and with them regrets. Regret that I didn’t follow this sooner. Regret that I didn’t study compsci. Regret that I haven’t been more consistent with my creative endeavors. But regrets look only at the past, and while the past has been important to shape who I am today, my focus needs to be directed forward.

Video games have always been a part of my life and will continue to be important to me. Seeing that same dedication and passion at PAX West was truly eye-opening. Getting to meet the developers to Children of Zodiarcs, discovering that the LucasArts crew is back and better than ever, and simply being in an environment where games are celebrated: well, it was better than I could’ve imagined.

So until the day I find myself a part of the industry that creates these fantastic titles, I’ll be happy simply adoring them from a distance. 

At least that distance has shrunk, right?

Due to a mix of different factors, I haven’t played many video games lately. Gigantic is one of the few that I have consistently made time for. I’ve been a fan of the game since it was first announced back in 2014 and tried to play the closed beta (my computer was potatoes at the time). With the game’s full release, it’s at an extremely polished state in terms of aesthetics and design. Unfortunately, with the rise of hero shooters like Overwatch, Paladins, and Battleborn, it’s gotten a bit lost in the shuffle. It’s a shame, because Gigantic is very clearly a labor of love made all the more impressive that the team sits at under 100 developers. Having met the developers at PAX West and confirmed that they are indeed passionate creators, I want this game to succeed even more. It’s not without its rough edges but overall it’s a fantastic experience.

Story

The world of Gigantic is rather vague and a simple Light (House Aurion) vs. Dark (House Devaedra). Five heroes fight for a giant glowing gryphon against another set of five heroes fighting for a giant glowing snakedragon thing. Battles take place across three different locations (desert industry, overgrown and waterlogged ruins, shipwrecked glacier) where ultimately the focus is the gameplay, not the story.

That said, there are still quite a few story elements to be found that aren’t tied to the core gameplay. Gigantic divvies up its lore and backstory in the skins for the heroes and their weapons, doling out bits of information through small sentences that, much like Dark Souls, gives a very small window into a very wide world. Currently, it’s a mish-mash of interesting lore, so hopefully Motiga will take the effort to tie these threads together somehow later down the line.

Mechanics

Back in the beta, the game handled rather floatily. Floaty? Floatingly? Yes. At any rate, whatever has been done since then has smoothed everything out immensely. What Overwatch did for FPSes, Gigantic did for OTS 3rd person. This is thank is no small part to the gorgeous animation on Motiga’s part, where moving in three dimensional space feels like a watercolor in motion. Every motion flows beautifully from one to the next and all the abilities flow and cancel into each other very smoothly.

My one gripe is with the stamina system which, balance-wise, I understand, but it still takes some getting used to. The in/out of combat system isn’t entirely intuitive, at least off the bat. The more games I’ve played the less attention I’ve had to actively pay to the indicator at the bottom of my screen that lets me know as I’m about to exit combat. 

At first, it was easy to get lost in the effects and numbers piling up but I’ll attribute that more to getting used to the format of the game rather than any design flaw on the developers’ part. As each game passed and I became increasingly familiar with each Hero’s abilities and the corresponding particle effects, it became easier to parse out what was happening where and why. The combat can best be described as controlled chaos, but that’s pretty standard fare for hero-based games. And that’s a large part of why I love them.

On the macro scale of things, matches take place across roughly symmetrical arenas that, similar to Heroes of the Storm, has objectives laid out that generate resources for the team that has captured them. Fighting, if both teams are doing the right thing, will largely take place around these objectives. What I particularly love about Gigantic’s gameplay is that the objectives are active rather than passive, in the sense that gameplay is more than just about standing in and around the objective. The players can actively manipulate what sort of defenses the objective will have and it does factor into how the flow of a fight will pan out. The macro affects the micro in more ways than one and it’s been a delight to sort out the method in the madness.

Aesthetic

Gigantic is flat out gorgeous. The bold, striking colors and shapes all blend together in three dimensional space to create a vibrant world that is pure visual bliss to move through. It takes a page out of TF2 and, where Overwatch went a step towards realism, Gigantic takes a step towards style. Shapes and features are exaggerated, but form still does follow function. That’s a critical component missing from a lot of other games, e.g. Battleborn, Atlas Reactor, Borderlands, where the stylized visual aspects are incredibly pronounced but at times it feels like they’re colorful for the sake of being colorful. In a panel presented by the Motiga devs at PAX, they talked about the importance of shapes, silhouettes, and form/function dictating a character’s geometry. 

Another huge point in the game’s favor is the decision to go for a more storybook feel, in that the characters feel very heavily cartoony and stylized while belonging to established Western fairy tale archetypes. It fits the world of Gigantic quite well. It threads a fine line between stark danger and playful whismy, whirling together into a blend of storybook fantasy that feels almost nostalgic.

Technology

Gigantic was built in Unreal 3, which explains the impressive effects that the game produces. Complex geometry is formed real-time and lighting and shading are cast on large, packed scenes. I don’t know too much about Unreal or what it’s capable of, but especially since beta whatever Motiga has done to smooth things out it shows.

Note: Posting this 10 days after I initially started writing, but chalk that up to an incredibly debilitating fever and a slightly bloody concussion. Better late than never, as it goes.

#gigantic #motiga #games #thoughts #steam #gogigantic

[whydoyouthinkileft]

I think I wrote some headcanons here that I haven’t told to many people just yet too

PLEASE REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG!  Feel free to add to any of your answers!  The purpose is to tell your partners about the way you write!  For the multiple choice ones, BOLD all that apply and, if you want, italicize if it’s a conditional answer!

– B A S I C S –

NAME : Ele ARE YOU OVER 18?   Yes / No IS YOUR MUSE?   Yes / No

ARE YOU SELECTIVE ABOUT WHO YOU WRITE WITH? No (anyone) / Semi (most) / Yes / Highly / Private (mutuals only)

ARE YOU SELECTIVE ABOUT WHO YOU FOLLOW? No (anyone) / Semi / Yes / Highly / (I only follow people I want to roleplay with. Also sometimes blogs with muse-inspiration things)

IF YOURS IS A CANON MUSE, HOW MUCH DO YOU STICK TO IT? Not at all / A little / Some / Mostly / Strictly / (OC)  (I go au about some facts that I prefer to think didn’t happen, I give my own interpretation of some of her reactions and lines she says that might have no canon confirm, I love AU threads and when I start threads based on the episodes they go off canon eventually because otherwise nothing would happen, plus because I write a blog and not write a tvshow with lots of characters I can focus on all her issues and develop them. So the result is a different Jemma, I guess - though it is fun that some things I wrote during s2 came true in the last two seasons. I cursed her) 

WHAT POST LENGTHS DO YOU WRITE? One Liners / Single-Para / Multi-Para / Novella (often the longest it is, the more it tames for me to be able to reply, other times I can only find inspiration for the one novella thread. I just know I can’t keep things short for long, I don’t like one liners, and sometimes I need short threads but they end up getting longer the more Jemma feels/thinks/says) 

DO YOU USE ICONS AND/OR GIFS? No / Gifs / Icons / Gif icons (whatever the other person uses. Normally I post starters with icons)

DO YOU WRITE ON OTHER PLATFORMS? No / Yes

WHAT LEVEL OF PLOTS DO YOU WRITE? Un-plotted / Open-Ended Plots / Semi-Plotted / Fully Plotted (I can definitely write all of these BUT really, it’s so hard to predict actual reactions characters will have once we are writing and specific sentences are said, that in the end I just prefer having a general idea and then letting the thread develop... even if sometimes it means that the careful plotting part goes to hell because when we write the talk they have they take one word wrong or suddenly decide to say things I hadn't plotted for them to say, and it doesn't feel true if I don't follow what feels right for the character on the spot. So 'we have this fight and then they part ways for a while' can turn into 'oh look she said I love you and they are together now, because he had a sad face'. That's fun too. Though I definitely enjoy going to fangirl in private chats and write about 'hey imagine if this happens' and discussing facts that don't get to be written in long-term threads)

HOW QUICKLY DO YOU USUALLY RESPOND TO THREADS? Very Slow (< a month) / Slow (3–4 Weeks) / Average (1–2 Weeks) / Fast (>One Week) / Very Fast (>Three Days) (THERE IS NO IN BETWEEN. I have threads for MONTHS that I can’t reply to but I don’t want to drop because I know inspiration might strike, and that I don’t expect people to keep up once I reply. Or sometimes I just gotta reply instantly or the reply is gone forever.)

WHAT TYPES OF THEMES DO YOU LIKE? (Feel free to add!) Fluff / Angst / Smut / Action / Tragedy / Domestic / Family / Conversational / Hurt-Comfort / Crack / Adventure / Romance (Hurt comfort turning into romance is my thing. Same as ‘friends who are family’. When it comes to action, I get bored after a while if there is no time for characters to talk, the tvshow has already so much actions anyway, what I'm interested in is making characters talk, develop feelings, clear misunderstandings, be happy. Exactly because the tvshow doesn't do that as much. Also tragedy up to a certain level because otherwise there is just no more growing from there, so it's complicated, I can't write 50 replies with Jemma trying to keep someone from falling apart without getting tired and sad myself, given that I already had too many threads like that and that it's dangerously close to real life, and I can't write too much tragedy for Jemma or for people close to her without them realistically losing any hope and chance to make it, so there has to be a limit. And I need the happy ending. Though it's important to me to have a bit of everything in every thread: humor, fun, hurt-comfort, some angst, lots of talking, some action -sometimes bad stuff happening and them having to deal with it- as long as in the long run it's clear that it's building something nicer and happier with less pain coming. Like okay, now that the danger is over, let's be all cute and fluffy, then let's deal with this emotional issue from your past, then there is comforting, then there is more nice stuff, then facing some other problem together instead of fighting. And so on.)

WHAT GENRES DO YOU LIKE? (Feel free to add!) High Fantasy / Supernatural / Science Fiction / Historical / Horror / Comedy/ Romantic / Drama / Action / Adventure / Espionage / Everything (this seems a lot like the previous one?)

THEMES YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WRITING? (not triggers) No / Yes (I don’t write threads with one of our characters abusing the other - unless through brainwashing and even then only in a physical or emotional way. And I prefer not to write too much about death, about torture while it’s happening unless I’m the one writing it so I can get away from it if necessary. I’m very okay with recovery from it, though. Oh, also, I’m not extra comfortable writing characters who cannot be comforted, or refuse help for too long/until the end because I get anxious about where the thread is going, and also writing about fussy kids, as weird as that can sound.)

DO YOU HAVE ANY TRIGGERS?  HOW SHOULD IT BE TAGGED? No / Yes (Though I appreciate people tagging content non suitable for work so it’s not right in my face, and other triggery things in general)

– S H I P P I N G –

WHAT TYPES OF RELATIONSHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? Romantic / Platonic / Familial / Physical / Sexual (I’m a fan of friends or frenemies with benefits turning into romance in the sappiest way tbh)

WHAT TYPES OF PRE-ESTABLISHED SHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? Romantic / Platonic / Familial / Physical / Sexual (depending on how much me and the other mun plotted before, or how much we wrote in the past, so I know they won’t assume stuff that is not true for my Jemma)

DO YOU HAVE OTPS? No / Chemistry only / Yes (a bit of both, chemistry made Jemma/Ward and Jemma/Hunter and Jemma/Mace happen in the past and they became OTP too because I get super-excited about my ships)

DO YOU HAVE NOTPS? No / Yes / I don’t know (I’m not writing Jemma/Will unless plotted as a past ship that ended after the planet whether he was saved or not and only in verses where she had no romantic attachment to Fitz nor any other character - like when I write her ending in the planet in au verses where she is dating Ward or Hunter? Nope. Also Jemma with Coulson, May, Daisy, Mack, Bobbi? Nope)

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S SEXUAL ORIENTATION? Heterosexual / Heteroflexible / Bisexual / Homoflexible / Homosexual / Pansexual / Demisexual / Sapiosexual / Asexual / Attracted to masculinity / Attracted to femininity / Attracted to androgyny / sex favorable / sex repulsed / (very, very attracted to men - it’s a particular form of attraction. While her eyes find aesthetically pleasing some muscular, symmetrical men, and she’s very open to sex especially no strings attached, she also gets particularly attracted to specific areas - for example, abs. Or arms. And her attraction is given by ‘looks + what she can do to that person or what the person can do to her’, like ‘oh he has such muscular arms he could pick me up so easily’. Which is why once she starts dating one person, other men are aesthetically pleasing but not attractive, because half of what causes her to be attracted - what they could do for her or viceversa - is missing and she has no interest in them. Someone's personality can also attract her, if they banter with her enough, and then she'll find their bodies attractive too, though. Enthusiastically so. But most of her life sex was just one way to either have fun or vent, so she just picked men she could tell would be 'entertaining' for one night, especially if they looked very masculine but gave her the impression that they'd let her lead.)

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S ROMANTIC ORIENTATION? Heteroromantic / Heteroflexible / Biromantic / Homoflexible / Homoromantic / Panromantic / Demiromantic / Sapioromantic / Aromantic / Polyamorous /romance favorable / romance repulsed (she didn't really understand love all that well, and when I write her either she has never been in love before Fitz, or if she's not with Fitz at all, she still doesn't get well how it works and will need time to understand how she feels, both because she's detached from her own feelings and because it's just so rare and unclear for her to feel, the 'symptoms' are nearly the same as her friendship ones given how strongly she feels about platonic friends. She’s close to aromantic.)

ARE YOU COMFORTABLE WRITING SMUT? No / Selectively / Yes

HOW EARLY IN A RELATIONSHIP DO YOU SHIP ROMANTICALLY Autoship / During Plotting / After A Couple IC Interactions / Several IC Interactions / Slow Burn / Depends on partner or muse (depends on the ship, and what me and the other mun feel, and a few interactions to check if there is a spark, something about both sass and being nice to each other)

ARE YOU OPEN TO TOXIC SHIPS? No / Selectively / Yes

ARE YOU OPEN TO PROBLEMATIC SHIPS? (canon history, age difference, complicated, etc.) No / Selectively / Yes (depends on the mun and the plotting we do)

ARE YOU OPEN TO POLYSHIPPING? No / Selectively / Yes

ARE YOU AN EXCLUSIVE SHIPPER? No / Sometimes / Yes

DOES CRACK SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? No / Sometimes / Yes (but only because I don’t write crack, if crack here means interactions that are just written for a laugh, I can’t write Jemma outside of ‘my’ canon)

DOES CROSSOVER SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? No / Yes / Depends (it sure as hell would if I wrote with characters from other fandoms)

tagged by @lovelornrocketscientist

@tagging @siinfvl @desecratedpatriot @whiskeyandtwoshotglasses @secondchaircellist @marvelcusmuses @melinda-q-may 

#ooc #important

[spaceorphan18]

Finding Kurt Hummel: All or Nothing

Masterpost

4x22: All or Nothing

And we’ve reached the end of season 4.  It’s been a long and hard journey, but we’ve reached the end of it.  And, you know, this is kind of a weird episode, but I like it.  

Kurt’s not in it a whole lot - and man, it would have been nice for just a smidgen of where his thoughts were, but the Klaine plot is going to move forward in a positive direction, even if there’s one big tragic thing on the horizon. 

Proposal Plans

Again - Kurt’s not really in any of this, but I should mention Blaine and all his plans to propose.  And, idk, I kind of went over how I feel about it in the previous episode.  I feel like now, I’m just watching it as a fun thing.  

Some thoughts: 

Blaine is incredibly enthusiastic about this plan.  My headcanon is that post-Burt getting the all clear he and Kurt have started sleeping together again.  There are some deleted season 5 stuff that leads me to believe this, too.  

Sam brings up Adam - but we don’t get a definitive comment on the state of that relationship.  Mostly, because it doesn’t matter.  And because there’s not anything to say - and Adam or no, Blaine’s gonna propose anyway. 

I’m really sad we never got to see Sam acting as a best man - or Kurt have all his ladies help him with his wedding.  Ah well...  

Why is Tina speculating of a future with Blaine?  Also - Tina’s so over listening to Blaine talk about Kurt. 

I like Jan.  I think she’s a little ridiculous for encouraging an 18yo to get married, but I like her as a mentor for Blaine. 

Mentors

Ah man this scene.  Which as gotten so much flack over the years.  Here’s my two cents about the production.  No - it’s not the best Klaine scene we ever got.  Maybe some of the acting was a little understate, maybe some of it was overstated.  And maybe both the editing and direction weren’t exactly what this portion of the story needed.  Looking at it in a bubble, it’s a little weak.  That said - I don’t think it’s as bad as everyone makes it out to be.  And I personally have more issues with the editing then I do with the acting.  But that’s just me.  Moving on to the story.... 

First of all -- let’s address the issue that Kurt’s cold and distant in this scene.  Well.  I don’t really think that he is.  Distant - maybe.  But let’s put it in some context.  He has literally just met these people.  And they’re sweet and nice, and Kurt does say it’s nice to meet some older gay people that they can look to.  But they just met - and we all know how Kurt is about opening up to people.  And it’s a little different than, say, meeting Isabelle - whom he clicked with immediately.  This is someone Blaine’s met initially, and Kurt still needs to feel it out on his own terms.  

Plus, he does look and smile at Blaine on a few occasions.  Most of them are when the camera are pointed at Blaine, or from up above, so it’s hard to tell, but it is there.  (Which is why my issues are with editing.) 

See - Kurt’s smiling and having a good time.  :)  They’re even sharing one plate of dessert with each other.  

Yeah the line where he claims they’re not a couple is a little awkward.  And I’ve read some great meta about how whatever’s going on with Blaine at the moment is complicated, and Kurt hasn’t fully worked it out - but he’s not really going to get into /that/ with a couple of strangers that he’s literally just met.  I mean, c’mon, he didn’t even get into that with Rachel.  Besides - he lifts the coffee cup to cover his mouth - which is a deliberate direction choice, because people often hide their mouth when they’re lying or trying to cover something up.  They may not officially be a couple, but they’re not /not/ a couple.  

Anyway - the lesbian couple talk about their life together - and it’s a run down of a lot of gay culture and history.  I do want to mention that they say they broke up twice and got back together twice.  And I know there are two groups of people - the people who believe RIB planned out the Klaine story, and those who don’t.  And while I don’t think they had every detail planned (I mean - Cory was still alive when they shot this) - I do think the they knew the long term plans for Klaine.  And I think that line was intentional - especially when all the precognitive lines from Burt earlier about Kurt getting married and having babies, and telling Blaine they’ll be fine turned out to be true.  And they knew the show would be on for two more years and that’s it.  So yeah, I think they knew there’d be another break up in the cards. 

But Jan and Liz are sweet - and Kurt is endeared by their story. 

Kurt’s face when Jan asks Liz to marry her.  Kurt is just so thrilled to witness this surprise show of romance.  And a second later, he just adores it.  This is the first of two major romantic things to happen within this episode, and Kurt reacts positively to both of them.  Hmmm.  ;) 

But also - the significance of this being two women who decide to get engaged in a small town restaurant, and everyone’s clapping and happy for them.  The Jan and Liz stuff is about more than being mentors for Klaine - it’s commentary on gay rights - as is all of the marriage equality stuff.  

I’m a little sad we didn’t get to see any more of Jan and Liz... 

All or Nothing

So, it’s Regionals ----- finally.  And Brittany has a big announcement.  She’s pregnant!! No.  The actress was.  But Brittany herself was headed off to MTT.  And she goes around the circle and tearfully says goodbye.  And weirdly, has a line for everyone but Kurt.  It seems super strange -- especially since they’ve been unicorns together.  But it makes me think one of two things - the line for Kurt was cut, or Kurt wasn’t originally in the scene.  I can see either being true - more so than they just forgot to write in a line for him. Man, why didn’t we have the scripts for all the episodes? 

Speaking of scripts - we did get some deleted dialogue from this moment during Blaine and Marley’s duet of All or Nothing. 

Kurt: “Why am I so nervous?” Santana: “Because you still love him, you dope.”

First of all - I’m entertained that Santana calls him a dope.  Ah the love in their friendship.  

Yeah this would have been nice to hear.  And yes, I get the criticisms that it’s not Kurt being the one to say it.  I mean, we really haven’t had Kurt explicitly say anything about how he feels towards Blaine since....  Thanksgiving?  God damn, all this subtext is exhausting.  But - I do think this is the show telling us how he feels.  And I think, possibly, one reason why they cut it is because they felt they were being too explicit about it.  Oh show....  

At least kept in is this nice moment of Kurt getting teary eyed at Blaine singing. 

So - New Directions win, and Will and Emma decided that it’s a good time to get married.  And look who’s excited about a surprise wedding.  I mean, Kurt’s jumping up and down excited. 

So, seriously, the next person who tries to convince me that Kurt’s not alright with either his surprise proposal or his surprise wedding - I will throw this episode at you!! 

And as we pan out of season 4 - we’re left with the promise of a ring and a continued story.  I know a lot of people weren’t thrilled with it - I know I was antsy to have more of a conclusion than /that/.  But maybe now that I have the full picture, I don’t mind so much.  

I mean - Season 4 was about them being apart.  And yeah - there were together in the first three episodes, but not really.  And they were technically apart at the end, but I could argue not really there, too.  But it’s weirdly symmetrical.  Because season 3 and 5 have them together.  And season 2 and 6 have them finding each other for good.  Idk - it’s an interesting pattern. 

And, I can’t quite explain why, but the proposal feels like it belongs to season 5.  Now that we’re years later - season 4 ends just the way it’s supposed to.  With a lot of hope. 

But also - going forward, Klaine is going to be the main couple of the show.  And Kurt gets to have a story again.  And really - I’m excited for both.  So bring on season 5 ;) 

#finding kh #kurt hummel

[notanothervideogameblog]

Fanfic: Imprints on the Body and Soul

Summary: In a world where every meaningful encounter in your life gives you a Mark, Yuri didn't have many Marks before leaving Zaphias. All the changes he goes through, both good and bad, leave their Marks.

A Tales of Vesperia Soulmark AU. Assumes you know plot details up to the Shrine of Baction.

AO3 Link

Yuri was quite certain that he hated whatever biological or psychological imperative it was that caused Soulmarks to take shape. Whenever a person began to change because of the presence of another person in their life, that person left a Mark on their body. The Marks were like warnings of: "this person could ruin you," but they appeared too late to serve as a proper forewarning to stay away from some people.

The Marks didn't even hold importance. Your oldest, dearest friends wouldn't leave a Mark if they didn't steer you towards a certain path you wouldn't even consider without them. Your dead family who you'd never known would never even get a chance to leave an imprint. Your worst enemy could leave a never-fading Mark on you with sheer cruelty.

Yuri's Marks took the shape of stars. Yuri's first star had been on his right arm, in the dip on his elbow, its color the muted blue of a cadet soldier's uniform. It was fitting, as it had formed when Flynn had spurred Yuri to join the Imperial Knights.

The Mark Flynn left was Yuri's first. It was the first to appear on his skin and it was the first to start fading away when Yuri walked away from the Knights and the corruption.

There hadn't been any new markings on Yuri's body for a while after. Yuri'd become stationary, aimlessly slipping through life and not really grasping at another person. Then he'd met Estelle and together they'd ended up on a journey to save Flynn's life.

Flynn had also given Estelle her first Mark, Yuri would find out one evening when the two didn't have anything better to discuss than their Marks. It had been Estelle who brought the matter up in Quoi Woods while they'd been having a lunch break in the seemingly nonthreatening woods.

Estelle sighed heavily after Yuri's estimation of her as being sheltered. "Fair enough, I suppose," the woman had said sullenly. "I haven't had many chances to gain any Marks. Not enough people have gotten close."

"It's not so rare, being distant," Yuri said easily. "I consider the Lower Quarter my family but I sure don't have Marks from them."

"That's unexpected," Estelle said bluntly and Yuri fell silent, not knowing how to answer. "It's just. You seem so worldly," Estelle hurried to explain, waving her hands while Repede scoffed from somewhere around her knees, tauntingly right outside of petting distance.

Yuri shot the dog a warning look, not about be ridiculed. "Not really," he said to Estelle. "I haven't gone far from Zaphias before and I've been content with my life, so there hasn't been much need to change." It was mostly the truth. He hadn't seen many ways for himself to change, but, he had always felt the need for something to give.

Estelle nodded, like she understood. "I don't really have friends or close mentors or even rivals to drive me to change," she explained and Yuri felt that perhaps she did understand, at least a little. "Flynn was actually my first friend."

"Same," Yuri said with a breathy laugh but Estelle was focusing on removing the glove on her right hand to show a dark blue flower blooming in the middle of her palm. Yuri noted a forming callus in the inner arch of her thumb, the result of gripping a weapon tightly when fighting off monsters. It was an interesting contrast when viewed right next to the little flower.

"The openness symbolised by the open palm," Estelle started to explain, "is essential to trusting friendship." She placed a finger on top of her Mark. "The locations of Soulmarks tell of the lessons they teach," there was something about her voice that made Yuri feel like he was being lectured. "Flynn is the first person I trusted whole-heartedly, and he's a dear friend." Estelle clenched her hand into a fist slowly, closing her fingers over the Mark protectively. "So I want to help him now."

Yuri thought about the faded blue on his arm and frowned. Astute, Estelle didn't ask about it, but she did look like she still wanted to say something. She only picked the topic up again after they'd already spent some time continuing their journey through the woods.

"Flynn was the first who really listened to what I had to say," Estelle told Yuri. "I hadn't realized before how much I'd wanted someone to value my opinions, even a little." Estelle pouted then, a much more playful expression when compared to before. "Flynn doesn't really seem to know what to do after listening, however."

Yuri laughed, glad that this other person who'd been marked by Flynn could see him so clearly. "He doesn't get a lot of things, but he's dependable."

Estelle hummed in agreement, smiling. "I really am glad to be out here," she confessed. "Back in Zaphias, I just drifted through life without really doing much. Maybe out here I can make a difference."

It was a familiar sentiment. Yuri tried not to think back on the endless still days in the Lower Quarter and swung himself over a falled tree trunk. "Let's get going then," he declared, turning to Estelle to offer her a hand over the obstacle. "There's a whole world waiting out there, not just Flynn."

Estelle grinned and grasped his hand, allowing Yuri to heave her up from the ground and over the tree trunk. As they continued on their path to Halure, Yuri thought that there was a light spring to Estelle's step. His knee itched, but it wasn't all that unpleasant and he decided to let it be. The itch didn't really do much more thank make him want to keep moving, anyway.

It would be hours later, while spending the night at Halure, that Yuri would look at his right knee and see his second Mark. Estelle had formed a pink star on his knee somewhere between Zaphias and Halure. She'd been the primary catalyst for Yuri leaving Zaphias. In a way, everything Yuri would experience during said journey could be attributed to meeting Estelle. Yuri decided she deserved her place on his skin.

He also wondered if she'd given Estelle a flower to match the star she'd given him. However, they didn't really talk about markings after that first time, so Yuri never found a good chance to ask.

When the red mark first appeared on his left bicep in Capua Nor, Yuri thought it was a bug bite. It was a dull red, only a touch darker than his skin tone. Only, once it began to darken, Yuri realized that no bug bites took the shape of perfectly symmetrical stars.

The Mark kept darkening and Yuri's prods on it turned into scratches whenever he caught sight of it. Soon enough it had deepened into an unmistakable Soulmark and even the sight of it irritated Yuri. He thought about the injustices in the world, and the Mark darkened.

Somewhere between "You guys would be lost and lonely without me around," and "Do you think you'd wanna maybe start a guild with me?" Yuri obtained another Mark, a yellow star in the palm of his hand that had taken a while to form and had only been unmistakable to Yuri once he'd already decided that he didn't really want to part ways with Karol.

Living in the Lower Quarter, your friends never went far. You didn't have to worry about potentially never seeing them again if you didn't tell them to come over again. The people in the Lower Quarter always knew where everyone was, or at least where they were likely to find someone. Yuri hadn't really ever learned to differentiate between the people he didn't mind, the people he liked, and the people he was happier with than without.

Apparently, Karol fell into the latter category. Yuri didn't want him to vanish into the wide world, hard if not impossible to ever find again. And when he weighed the idea of forming a guild with Karol against returning to the Lower Quarter, the guild sounded much more tempting. Yuri cared about the community he came from, but he knew they'd always be there waiting whenever he got too homesick.

By the time the group had made it to Dahngrest, Yuri could count four Marks on his skin. Flynn's faded Mark on his right arm, Estelle's soft pink on his matching knee, Karol's yellow in the palm of his right hand, and the mysterious red Mark on his left bicep. He'd stopped worrying about it, even though it sometimes rose from the back of his mind when bathing or changing. The Mark that looked and felt dark, but seemed to have no purpose.

Then Barbos flung himself off Ghasfarost, all the while gloating to Yuri about the enemies he would make. "Regret, sorrow, and despair will hound you all the way to hell, and I will be waiting there for you." Those had been the man's last words, and Yuri thought about the star on his arm.

'Enemies, huh,' Yuri mused as he turned away from the edge. 'Sure, I definitely have to worry about those if they keep killing themselves.' Really, Yuri didn't fear the dead, it was the threats still alive that made him worry.

The meaning of the Mark was cemented when its color settled on blood red on the night Yuri realized that the likes of Ragou would never face justice, because justice was tied up by politics. He brought Ragou to justice himself, sword swung by the arm that held the Mark he knew encountering Ragou had created. After all, if people like Ragou didn't exist, Yuri would never need to change into someone ready to do away with them.

After Yuri returned to his lodgings for the night, he thought about the bloody body he'd flung into the river. His right hand went to the red star on his bicep, and scratched at it until the repetitive motion calmed his mind enough to let him sleep.

In the end, each person Yuri killed left their Mark on his skin, dotting his right arm with small, blood red stars that failed to make Yuri feel regret. No, Flynn's accusations, both the ones in his eyes and in his words, did that well enough. There was the first Mark from Ragou, highest up his arm, from blatant murder. There was another slipping lower and to the side from that, for Cumore, whose death Yuri had caused without ever drawing a blade.

Yuri tried not to think too much about his red Marks, but he took comfort in the outline of one large star taking shape on his torso, tucked partially away under his arm. The outline was black, and it had first appeared when Yuri had told Flynn: "I'm going to start up a guild." The star was the size of Yuri's hand pressed up against his side and Yuri decided that he could fit his guild in there, in that single Mark.

The first color to start filling the empty space inside the outline was the hopeful yellow of Karol. Yuri recognized it from the small star of friendship in his left palm that was the exact same color. The second color was Judith's midnight blue. That one took Yuri some time to figure out, because Judith connected with them all in a way that was very wisp-like, slowly building up trust and contentment between them all. Yuri really found out the truth when the group was crossing the Sands of Kogorh for the second time. It was Rita who'd proclaimed loudly that Judith was dark blue, scribbling down notes about Marks and shades of color. Yuri didn't fancy getting burned so he didn't ask, but Karol had always been more ready to risk Rita's wrath.

"How do you know that?" Karol asked suspiciously. "Do you have a Mark from Judith?"

"None of your business!" Rita shrieked and began casting a fire ball, but Karol had already zipped away, moving surprisingly quickly in the desert heat.

Yuri was sure that the only reason Rita wasn't already an expert on Soulmarks was because her Blastia research kept her too busy to have another area of study.

The skin around Yuri's two red Marks was itself reddened, irrirated by Yuri scratching at it absent-mindedly. Yuri refused to accept that the gesture was a sign of any kind of remorse. Still, while the Marks on Yuri's arm maybe failed to bring forth regret, he soon gained two new ones that appeared on the back curve of his right hip, which were another story. One of the stars was a hot-blooded red and the other was a calm green. The two Marks that had taught him betrayal. Knowing the Don and the Duce had taught Yuri about scheming and betrayal, and he did indeed regret how the dishonesty of others had led to their deaths, as well as his own part in said deaths. Those ones Yuri didn't scratch at. He avoided touching them as much as possible, actually.

A literal Mark of backstabbing, even when he hadn't been the target. When the group took off to chase down Judith, Yuri wondered if that Mark that Rita had gotten from Judith had been replaced by one on Rita's back. The girl had started off so suspicious of people, there was no telling how deeply Judith crushing the Fiertia's ceres blastia had hurt her. Yuri didn't have a separate Mark for Judith but he was determined not to let it appear on his back. He would end the Krityan, if she proved to be untrustworthy.

In the end, all of Yuri's mental preparation wasn't needed. Instead, after Judith had finally rejoined them, Yuri pressed a hand to his left side, and felt warmth. His guild was safe and sound.

Despite all of the uncertainty and chance tied to Marks, Yuri felt a resigned certainty when Raven reintroduced himself as 'Schwann Oltorain, First Captain of the Imperial Knights'. He knew he would be leaving the Shrine of Baction with a new Mark, the only variable simply being where it would appear, which cluster of his sorrow it would add to.

The encounter ended in a way that Yuri hadn't guessed in any of the disbelieving considerations he'd had time for with everything happening so fast. The battle was intense and then the shrine was collapsing and finally Raven ended up sacrificing his own life to save those of his teammates, even after he'd betrayed and attacked them. And while Yuri ushered everyone else out ahead of him, he wasn't entirely glad to leave him behind. Not even close.

It was after Ba'ul took to the skies that Yuri carefully separated from the rest of the group. They we all still reeling from recent events, so Yuri had faith that he wouldn't be immediately interrupted, so he found a private nook on board the ship to look over his skin. He needed to find the new Mark he knew for certain had to be there.

Yuri did find a new Mark, but it hadn't ended up on his upper arm or on his back. Instead he found a grey star further down his arm, resting atop the pulse point on his left wrist.

A startled laugh escaped Yuri, prompting a confused sound from the ever-faithful Repede, who'd come after him by then. Yuri cradled his wrist in his right hand and turned to give his best friend a smile, the best one he could manage right now.

"I didn't want him dead." Yuri was admitting it to himself as much as Repede. He really hadn't been certain at some points back there. He sat down, hunched over like he was shielding the proof of his actual feelings. He looked at the Mark, and wondered about the color. It didn't really seem to suit the Raven he'd known.

"I didn't want you dead," Yuri told the Mark, like the one who'd caused it could still hear him from beyond the grave, just through this Mark connecting them. Repede was a warm presence by Yuri's side a moment before the dog pressed up against Yuri, offering silent comfort and support. Yuri let go of his newly marked wrist only long enough to give his friend's ears a grateful scratch.

In the end, Raven hadn't been another lesson in betrayal or vengeance. Encountering him hadn't even really been about justice, although it came close. Yuri rubbed a thumb on the Mark, steely grey, certain and solid. It was mercy, plain and simple. And Yuri thought that perhaps he needed that lesson, at least in the here and now.

#tales of vesperia #tales of series #tales series #yuri lowell #fanfic #tales fic

[monabela]

I was like "yeha cyberpunk! ...I know like three things about cyberpunk." but then I realized quite some books I really liked when I was younger definitely fall into the genre so then I was like "Okay Yeha Cyberpunk!" and then it became... not very cyberpunk. but I tried. also I have named things after this song before (most notably my blog) but I just love it a lot :'D

of tomorrow

part III of the femslash Sonata Arctica AUs

Slowly we become the new species of tomorrow Mankind lives or dies by its boundless dreams

- Take One Breath

characters/pairings: Seychelles (Angélique)/Taiwan (Mei), Australia (David), New Zealand (Riley)

word count: 2921 summary: An unwanted visitor is sent home to her comfortable life, but Angélique thinks she’ll miss Mei even if she promises to come back someday.

“Angélique, come on! Hurry up a bit, will you?”

She keeps her eyes straight ahead and her fingers on the keys. Numbers flash by like lightning.

“I’m almost there,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Almost how? Almost—”

“David, kindly shut up,” she interrupts him, and ignores his grumbling when she hits the right file. She copies the contents quickly, then turns to David, who’s bouncing on his heels and peering down the brightly lit hall, where Riley is keeping watch.

“I’m done now,” she announces.

“Oh, thank fuck. Riles!”

Riley skids over to them, dirty shoes slipping on the glossy floor, eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” David confirms. “Now let’s get the hell out here. I can’t believe we’re going through this much trouble for a bloody wight.”

“Don’t call her that,” Angélique says.

Riley sighs and opens the door at the end of the hall, gesturing the both of them outside. Angélique tugs her bandana down from her hair and over her mouth. Her eyes water as she gets used to the heavy air and the ever-strong heat, but she blinks and follows David and Riley as they dash to the fence and clamber over it, careful not to touch its electric parts. It’s routine. They’ve done this before, though they have never actually gotten into the control building itself. The security has always been poor. No one expects those living here to be capable of even coming up with the idea of getting in here.

Joke’s on them, Angélique thinks, even if that’s far from the truth, if the ‘bloody wight’ hasn’t been telling lies.

Riley goes up front through narrow, dark streets. People scuttle away as they pass, watching from behind dirt-caked windows but never asking questions. You don’t ask questions. Questions only lead to answers, and that’s the last thing anyone here needs. Plausible deniability is where it’s at.

The tiny house the three of them share sits crammed between two other just like it, all unappealing angles and time-blackened walls. Angélique knows the neighbors actually tried to clean their house once, unveiling a surprising red color, but it had gotten just as bad again a week later. They haven’t bothered since. It’s like that most of the time.

All the city’s filth accumulates here. David would probably say that that is true in a figurative way as well. He has his cynical moments.

Mei is sitting where they left her two hours  ago, back straight and knees pressed tight together. David scoffs at her and disappears upstairs. Riley sighs again, and when Mei’s eyebrows knit together, they shake their head, brown curls flopping from side to side.

“Don’t worry about Dave. We got what you need.”

She presses her lips together. The glossy pink lipstick she was wearing when they found her has long since worn off from all the worrying at it.

“He doesn’t like me.”

“He doesn’t need to like you,” Angélique replies, sitting down on the edge of the low table, facing the other woman. “We’ll get you back where you belong and you can both forget about each other.”

Mei’s perfectly symmetrical dark brown eyes search Angélique’s grimy face, and a slender, slightly tanned hand reaches out to tug the bandana down from her nose and mouth. Angélique forgot she was still wearing it; it’s become second nature over her life. She casts her own gaze down, letting her dark curls fall in front of her face.

David’s return is heralded by his heavy boots clunking down the stairs. Mei quickly drops her hand back into her lap, and all three of them turn to David when he steps into the room. He squares his jaw and fixes his gaze on Mei, who bites her lips again but looks back steadily.

“We’ll get you out,” he says, “but don’t expect anything beyond that.”

Angélique clenches her hands into fists and rises, but Mei only nods, stands up, brushes off her pleated pink skirt, and tosses her glossy black hair over a shoulder.

“What are we waiting for?” she asks. “Obviously, you want me gone.”

David opens his mouth, eyes narrowing, but Riley forestalls him.

“It’s still daytime. We’re going to have to get you to transport station when it’s dark.”

At this, Mei’s eyes widen. “It’s day still? But – it’s…”

Riley and Angélique exchange a confused glance. Riley shrugs.

“Well, never mind that,” she continues. “Thank you, whatever the case. You could have just as easily left me when you found me.”

A sharp look at David prevents him from making a snide comment. Angélique doesn’t understand what his problem with Mei is. Sure, she might be a… A ‘bloody wight’, but she by herself doesn’t pose any danger to them. Then again, for all her years of friendship with David – and Riley – there are still a lot of things she doesn’t know about either of their pasts.

She also still isn’t sure what they are to each other, exactly, but there are more important things in life than her friends’ relationship. And really, contrary to popular belief, Angélique does know when to leave stuff alone.

“We should get some sleep,” Riley says. “I’m sure we’re all pretty tired anyway.”

“Are you all coming along?” Mei looks up at David, who sighs, but nods.

“To get in there, we’re gonna need all three of our areas of expertise. So yeah, we’re gonna have to put up with each other for a while longer.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Mei says, perfect lips pursed in exasperation. It’s nice to see some emotion on her face, Angélique thinks. Usually, in the four days she’s been here, she has been unreadable, somehow perfectly serene. Her skin is flawless, and so is everything else about her. Her fingers are long and elegant. She works as well with her left hand as her right. She has perfectly straight white teeth set in a mouth with full lips and the slightest hint of dimples in her cheeks when she smiles.

Angélique didn’t understand why all this concerned David so much, unless he was jealous, which he’s never been the type for. He started glowering as soon as they got Mei cleaned up. It only started making some semblance of sense when she saw the real tipoff that Mei wasn’t human, at least not entirely. A barcode-like brand on her right hip, one of the only asymmetrical features of her body.

It hasn’t become entirely clear to Angélique what exactly sets Mei apart from people like herself, but Riley managed to tell her some vague speculation about a combination of genetic enhancement or manipulation and high-tech, before David began muttering about ‘wights’ again. He’s usually so chill about everything. There has to be something more there, but… Questions, answers. She might be better off not knowing.

Still, Mei has been nothing but an excellent guest despite his hostility. Angélique has wondered if all those David would call ‘wights’ would be like that, never complaining or asking unnecessary questions, or if that is something that is uniquely hers. It’s an admirable trait.

“Of course,” says David, and he stomps off again. Riley rolls their eyes, shoots Angélique and Mei an apologetic look, and goes after him.

“Well,” Angélique starts, “as I’ve said before; he’s really a good guy, usually.”

At this, Mei actually smiles, steepling her fingers absently.

“I will take your word for it, Angélique.” She folds her hands together, sitting back down and clasping them between her knees. “I wonder if they miss me back home.”

Angélique leans her hip against the wall, pushes her bandana back up into her hair.

“Why wouldn’t they? You said you have a brother, right, and you’re pretty close? He must be worried.” She scratches at her nose, catches some dust flaking off on her fingers. “And I think I’ll miss you when you go.”

“I suppose. Thank you. It’s just…” She furrows her thin eyebrows. “Now that I know all this…” A gesture at the gloomy room, the dirty air outside and the old furniture that’s nearly falling apart. She starts chewing on her lower lip.

“Now that I know that you live here like this, not only you three but so many people, I can’t help but feel that it’s unfair to just – return to how I was before. It was an accident that I ended up in the lower town, but I want it to be good for something. Like a lesson learned. I’m sure my brother would help me.”

“Help you with what?” Angélique asks, intrigued. She’s never thought of herself or her friends as a possible charity case – as far as life in this town goes, they have it quite well. They’ve got a house, and none of them have caught any of the nasty diseases that circle the population from time to time. But the stories Mei has told about life in the upper districts were fascinating. Some sounded made-up, but Mei swore high and low that she told nothing but the truth.

All around town, the upper districts are considered a nearly mythical area; no one ever goes there, no one ever comes out of them. Yet Mei is about to become possibly the first person who does both. Vaguely, Angélique is proud to be a part of it.

“I just mean that there must be something we can do to make life here better,” Mei is explaining. “More comfortable, you understand? This is simply inhumane. I can’t allow any friend of mine to live in all this dirt and outdated… Everything. I know people who have pull. And people will listen to me as well.” She smiles a suspiciously asymmetrical smile that has Angélique’s heart jumping. “David might not like it, but I was conceived to be trustworthy.”

Angélique grins back, then says, “But we really should get some sleep before dark, I think.”

Mei nods, and so they do.

Night has long since fallen by the time all four of them are awake and ready to go. It’s not a long trip to the transport station, an although there is some danger of being caught in the last leg, the real tricky part is getting Mei back to the upper district of Aintza Town, where she lives, preferably without anyone noticing until morning. That part is, nerve-wrackingly, also the part Angélique is responsible for; she’s the only one of them any good with computers beyond basic skill. But she’s never smuggled something out of town before, let alone a person.

It’ll be a challenge.

Getting to the station is easy. Mei has dressed in some of Angélique’s clothes, which are a little big on her but stand out less than her – supposedly fashionable – light skirt and blouse, stained as they are after her week here. No one asks where they’re going. Mei doesn’t lag behind to gawp at people and buildings and whatever else she finds extraordinary like she did when she first passed through here.

David, who is second behind Riley, seems to have calmed down some, and he is concentrated when they reach the station and he has to open the gate.

It doesn’t matter if someone sees them slipping in under the meager light of a street lantern, so long as it isn’t someone who works at the transport station. For all the people out on the streets at this hour care, they might as well be invisible.

“Here we are, then,” David announces, gesturing them into the dark, looming shadows of the brick building that houses the control room. Or so they assume, at least. Riley said it would be logical, and Riley has a good eye for things like that.

They get inside without trouble, and to Angélique’s relief, there are signs pointing towards the different parts of the building and indicating where they can find central control. Mei just looks baffled by the very existence of the signs, calling them ‘quaint’ under her breath so only Angélique can hear. She snickers, just as softly. It must be a bit of a cultural shock if even half of her stories about the upper districts are true.

No one seems to be around at this time of night. It would be, Angélique thinks, extremely easy to take over control of the lower town, but then who’d want to do that? There’s nothing of value here. The only thing the people here are good for is manning the factories, putting things together without even knowing what it all accumulates to.

Mei seems fascinated by the computers they find in the control room, letting her fingers ghost over the keys without pressing them and tapping at screens expectantly.

“I haven’t seen anything with buttons since history class,” she marvels when David has left the room to be lookout, Riley trailing behind. “And screens, really.”

Angélique hums noncommittally, focused on the buttons and screens in question. The directories are different than the ones at the control building, but she manages to wade through the layers of timetables and security measures to find what she’s looking for, and gestures Mei over. The woman hovers close to her back, which makes her shiver despite the dry heat. She somehow still smells sweet. Angélique has to stop herself from inhaling it deeply just because she knows it’ll be gone in a few short minutes, if all goes well.

“Look, if you can get on this carrier…” She points, and Mei nods, hair brushing Angélique’s cheek. “I can start it, and it’ll take you to the Aintza transport station more-or-less directly.”

It’s strange how many other stations there are; it’s never really occurred to any of them that the world is so much bigger than the lower town.

“More-or-less directly sounds good enough. I don’t know how to thank you, Angélique.”

“You’re not there yet,” she mumbles, standing up a little straighter, breath catching when Mei doesn’t move back, pressing them  together.

“I can’t thank you when I’m there.”

Well, she supposes that’s true, yes.

“I can come back,” Mei whispers. Angélique closes her eyes and swallows. “And I will, if you want me to. I need to do something.”

“I’m not a charity case,” Angélique protests, fingers clenching over the keyboard. She shivers when she feels Mei’s long fingers slide down to her wrists. They spread over her hands, contrasting sharply against her own dark skin in the flickering light from the monitor.

“I know you’re not. It’s not because of that. It’s because I trust you, and I like you, Angélique.” She puts her chin on her shoulder. “And maybe it’s selfish, but I want to see you again.”

Angélique huffs, and Mei laughs softly, as if in wonder about something.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been selfish before. I didn’t think that was part of my makeup.” She strokes small circles on Angélique’s knuckles. “Guess you learn something new every day.”

“Lique!” David urges from outside in the hall, and Angélique snaps out of the Mei-induced reverie. Mei herself snaps back as well.

“Yeah!” she shouts back. “Sorry, Mei. I got… I got caught up.”

Her eyes have widened, as if she feels the same. “Yes. Of course. Sorry. Should I go now, are you… Are you ready?”

“Yes. I am. You should.” Angélique runs a hand through her dark curls, biting the inside of her cheeks. “But I do hope – selfishly – that I’ll see you again.”

“Selfishly,” Mei repeats, smiling. “I think that’s a very good motivation for both of us. I think we have more in common than it would seem, Angélique.”

Angélique nods, and Mei turns to the door, walking towards it briskly.

“Wait,” Angélique says. She glances at the screen, just to check, then hurries over to the other woman, who stills and turns back, and reaches up when Angélique catches her shoulders to tug her towards herself. The skin of her cheek is smooth and warm underneath Angélique’s lips. She smiling lopsidedly when they pull apart, then reaches up to kiss Angélique’s cheek as well, a thumb stroking her cheekbone.

“See you,” she says. “Take care.”

And she’s gone.

David enters the control room soon after she’s left, with Riley being the one in charge of getting her out to the right carrier. He hovers behind Angélique in a familiar, reassuring way, his steady presence returning now that the unknown factor is well on her way to gone. Angélique isn’t sure how to feel about it.

The icon for the carrier lights up, and all she has to is press start to let it go. She takes a deep breath and does it. Maybe Mei will come back. Maybe she won’t. It’s nothing she won’t get over, she tells herself. You don’t get this far in life in this town if you let things get to you.

“I hope she makes it home safe,” she does tell David.

He sighs a little. “Because you’re in love with her.”

She looks up at him. He seems resigned.

“Because I think she’s a good person, who deserves the life she’s told us about.” And, when David’s thick eyebrows rise and the familiar spark of humor lights in his green gaze, “The fact that I’m in love with her is secondary.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Lique. Keep telling yourself that.”

She laughs and pushes at his shoulder affectionately, and then they’re off into the lower town once more. They’ll see where they end up, same as always.

Life goes on.

#seytai #aph yuri #fssa #I'm not going to finish this series by month's end but Hey every month is femslash month right #Hetalia #aph taiwan #aph seychelles #aph australia #aph new zealand #u: human #mostly anyway #u: cyberpunk #fin #w: 5000 #I'm not sure I'm satisfied with this bleegh #egg child this one is for you