#hopefully you can read some of it but alt text is under the read more cut

[katierosefun]

Hi babe 20, 30, 33 and 34 🥺🥰

thank you for the ask ann!! // from these asks

ALT TEXT: 

20. now come out and see the light is bright as ever. (empty, car . . . beyond evil OST) 

30. hi ann, beloved! you are one of my closest friends both on and off this webbed site. i am so happy that we got to meet each other and also know each other more and more over the last few years (because it’s been years now! plural!). i would choose the parallel universe where we’re childhood best friends every time--but i am also grateful for this one, where we got to meet each other over the ocean!

33. anything caramel-y! and also red bean.

34. i want to go to korea at some point, but i also think it would be great to go to iceland one day too!

#answered #ann my beloved #also oh hey it's been forever since i've actually written anything on paper #hopefully you can read some of it but alt text is under the read more cut

[magicalgirlmascot]

[ID: a series of square images, all with white text on a pink background. Full descriptions are in alt text and under read more. End ID.]

New year, new pinned post! I have art commissions open, including character sheets, comic pages, and fully illustrated backgrounds! You can find more info by sending me a DM or checking [my Google Doc.] The doc also has some more options for commissions, like additional characters or minor background elements.

I also have some shops open! [Ko-Fi] has all the merch that I sell at conventions available to be shipped to you. Stickers, prints large and small, charms, sticker sheets, and hopefully more as the year goes on! You can also use it to leave me a tip if you like. [Redbubble] has various designs that I don't have physical merch of myself for one reason or another, as well as types of merch that I don't make, like clothing or notebooks.

Send me a DM or email me at [email protected] for more information or to get started! Reblogs of this post are also greatly appreciated. Thank you!

Image 1: a small rag doll with pink ponytail and blue dress smiles and waves at the viewer. Text in the image: "Magical Girl Mascot's Commissions, Shops, and More! Hello! My name is Rags (she/they) and I'm a freelance independent artist."

Image 2: a young woman in a black leather jacket and red tank with a skull on it glares at the viewer, holding a scythe of bones behind her back. She's divided into three sections showing the distinction between types of commissions with bright blue lines. Text in the image: "Commissions. Bust (shoulders up): Flat colours $15, Fully shaded $20. Hips up: Flat colours $20, Fully shaded $25. Full body: Flat colours $30, Fully shaded $40. See linked Google Doc for more info and TOS."

Image 3: text at the top reads "More Examples." Under are 3 images: a young woman in a blue outfit with pigtails sits on the edge of a bed, knitting a blue scarf with a large scroll on the wall behind her of a young man in an athletic uniform. Cure Sky from Hirogaru Sky PreCure from the hips up, winking and grinning while pointing at herself with her thumb. A bust of a young woman with a green ponytail, round purple glasses, and a green top, looking away, annoyed, raising a hand dismissively, with a background of green and purple grapes.

Image 4: text at the top reads "More Examples." Under are 3 images: a humanized Jaller from Bionicle, blonde and with a red vest, holding a board that says his name in the Matoran font, looking scared and scandalized. A humanized Takua from Bionicle, blue haired in a red shirt with the sleeves rolled up, holding a board with his name on it in the Matoran font, smiling cutely at the viewer. Two young women kissing, seen from the side. One has her arms draped around the other's neck while the other cups the back of her head.

Image 5: two comic pages. The first depicts Setback and Expatriette from Sentinel Comics having an argument, where Expatriette is apologizing for demanding Setback change for her and Setback thinks she's a Fleshchild. The second depicts human versions of Matoro, Jaller, and Nuju from Bionicle. Jaller asks Matoro about Nuju, nearly making him cry, and Matoro admits that Nuju means a lot to him and he regrets not saying goodbye to him before they left. Text in the image: "Comic Page Commissions. Comics are priced on a case-by-case basis. Please email for a quote."

Image 6: two drawings of a teenage hummingbird themed magical girl in her civilian and magical forms. As a civilian, she wears a plain top and skirt, holding her hand out dramatically and smiling. As a magical girl, she winks and waves at the viewer. Between them are four bust expressions: civilian upset and laughing, magical mortified and pouting. Text in the image: "Character Sheet Commissions. 2 styles available (with and without bust expressions). Please see my Google Doc or contact for more info!"

Image 7: four photos of different types of merch. Clockwise from top left: 5 acrylic charms of the Tokyo Mew Mew New protagonists, 6 stickers of the transformation sweets from Kira Kira PreCure a la Mode, 6 postcard sized prints of characters from Mob Psycho 100, Animal Crossing, Ghost Trick, Dragon Ball Z, and PreCure, and 6 stickers of the original Kanohi from Bionicle surrounded by flowers. Text in the image: "Shops! My Ko-Fi shop (linked below) has physical merch like charms, stickers, and prints! Printed, packaged, and shipped by me."

Image 8: screenshot of a Redbubble shop featuring a variety of prints, mostly of magical girls. Text in the image: "Shops! My Redbubble shop (linked below) has fanart and original art on all the Redbubble staples (but especially prints)."

Image 9: mostly text with a single circular logo with a bow inside. Text in the image: "I love to draw: original characters, fanart, TTRPG or MMO characters, frilly/fancy/detailed outfits, fantasy/magical girl outfits/characters, anime styles, simple armor. I will not draw: NSFW/sexual/suggestive content, bigoted or otherwise hateful content, incestuous or pedophilic relationships, excessive gore (subject to discretion). Ask for more info or check my TOS if you're not sure!"

Image 10: the same doll from image 1 smiles and clasps her hands together. Text in the image: "Contact Me! Email me at [email protected] or send me a DM! PLEASE NOTE: All prices are in CAD. Thanks for your interest and I hope to draw for you soon! Don't forget to check out my TOS in the linked Google Doc! More commission options are listed there as well!"

#commissions open #commissions #art commissions #artists on tumblr #commission work #digital artist #freelance artist #it's not tag spamming if it's all relevant right? right??? #anyway. commission me please :3

[ectocs]

The Dulyamra

post official dulyamra edit: added alt text from maniculum, thank you!

Well, after binge-reading @maniculum's bestiaryposting and all of the wonderful artists and wacky descriptions, I decided I might as well hop in. May redo this one later, but hey!

I might do some of the older stuff (even knowing what they are now, because seriously, some of those passages...). for this first one I just wanted to draw some kind of creature -- I've had art block, so I went relatively "basic" :]. more detailed, somewhat rambling thoughts under the cut (and some idea-testing sketches):

There are some pretty interesting things going on in this description. For one thing, a lot of it is dedicated to the parenting habits.

Since dulyamra have a liked and disliked twin, I decided it would only be logical for the disliked twin on her shoulder to be a little strange... so it's albino! Also, both of them are young enough that they haven't gotten their weird face-sacs like their mother.

The main working premise was "what if a bear had arms." Not so much, I fear, because I was trying to guess the animal (I wasn't, really)... but because it popped into my head during the first 2/3rds of the description and wouldn't leave, no matter what. I tried to make it less horrifying than what was in my head.

The detail of their emotions being tied into the moon's phases was intriguing. Ultimately, I decided to steal some patterning from a certain creature, with modifications: giving it vaguely moonlike shapes on its chest, while hopefully not also being too obvious about the moon thing.

Now the reason I may redo this in the future is because I find this to be an eye-catching bit: "they have compressed nostrils and a hideous face, its creases foully expanding and contracting like a bellows."

Oh, that's fun! I wish I wasn't stuck in a rut because I can think of so many fun ideas but no way to tie them together, or to a larger thing; something akin to a pug? Frog? Maybe their nose is like the worst bat nose to exist? A fan? Skin flaps? Only after drawing all this can I think of these, lol.

Ultimately I picked a guy with a neat nose/face situation to throw in the mix.

The idea here is simply that those areas by the nose could potentially inflate like a balloon, both while breathing and intentionally as a threat display. Initially, I had wanted to do something with face wrinkles and a dewlap of some sort, which I doodled initially (top right) with some other stuff:

But I couldn't get it to look right (or obvious enough without looking weird in a bad way), unfortunately, for the final piece, and switched lanes. I want to try again though!!!!

I like to picture this beast as being about knee-height.

#i seriously wanna try doing the dewlap bc its my True Dulyamra Vision but that has to be a tomorrow project if i DO try. #and keeping this hidden away in my files seems like a crime #so #maniculum bestiaryposting #dulyamra #my art #:) #I NEED TO POST THIS NOW BEFORE I OVERTHINK IT!!!

[kirby-the-gorb]

reply roundup!

“hey isn’t it like the middle of the night” look don’t worry about it I just wanted to get this done before I move out of california on saturday and I’ve still got other stuff to do the next couple days

thank you to @cherrycreamsicle for more image descriptions for [tiny baby] and [custard]! I have added them as alt text with credit once again.

on [the last roundup] @sonisis said: you understood : D

yeah! I don’t speak any language other than english but I can read some french and spanish -u-

on [blep] @joekingv1 said: *puts tiny sugar cube on baby's tongue*

lol you might end up treat-training them to blep, although I suppose that’s not a bad thing

on [shoes] @ceylonsilvergirl said: I choose to believe that the red things are not his shoes but his actual feet, and that these new snazzy sneakers are over those

oh absolutely same, those are his funny little bean feet. he’s just running around barefoot all the time because he’s a dirtchild.

thank you for the delightful tags on the [sleepover] commission, like “they are giggling and goofing so much under there. maybe even making shadow puppets” from @pierrotcandy and “SCREAMS UNCONTROLLABLY. PUTS MYSELF IN A ROTISSERIE OVEN. PAYS YOU MONEY. AAAAAAHHHH ITS MY BABIE BOIS 😭😭😭😭” from @northeasternwind themselves :-) (so glad you’re happy with it!) I also finished the [two] [other] commissions from the very brief open period at the beginning of the month, they were all very fun. hopefully I can stay well enough to open them again soon.

on [licorice] @danwithouttheplan said: oh heck to the yup this is the good stuff let er rip im feeling so full of happy now i love this little beast with my heart and lungs

this is just an extremely delightful turn of phrase thank you, I also love this little beast with my heart and lungs!

on [fleeing] @ceylonsilvergirl described a nightmare I won’t copy/paste but it’s there in the tags as long as they choose for it to be

dang, that sounds like one of those nightmares that’s sooo stressful while you’re in it, but once you wake up you’re like “oh, actually that would be fine.”

on [blanket] @grimlocks-dad said: ooh i wish i was good at any kind of fiber art bc i would love a kirby blanket 👀 kirby and blankets are two of my favorite things haha

honestly highkey same, I’m not good at the right fiber arts yet to make something like this by myself but I wish I was! I wouldn’t be happy enough with it if I crocheted it!

on [blanket] @angst-and-fajitas said: This reminds me of a blanket I had back when I was a little kid :)))

aww that’s so nice! I never had a patchwork blanket like this but I think they’re really cute.

on [jacket] @ceylonsilvergirl added a [link] to a cover of come on eileen by save ferris

ohhh I’ve never heard this version before, this is fun! I grew up on 80s music from my mom and ska punk is like definitely top 5 genres for me, so it’s very appropriate XD thanks!

#text #title text #reply roundup #caps #long post #readmore

[judgingskeletons]

So, in the new chapter of Dungeon Meshi, the mangaka Ryoko Kui has rendered a whole bunch of (non-animate) skeletons in very wonderful realistic detail. Could you judge them? Preferrably under a read-more, for spoiler reasons.

https://mangadex.org/chapter/8bebf083-f719-4d6d-ab50-7ba1613c1d60/1

Links: in the ask, first image (from ch88), second image (from ch87)

I’ve only picked one from each chapter you mentioned in the follow up ask and have removed text so hopefully nothing spoilery!

ID in alt text.

This fellow is too fleshy so some bits look fused but the bone shapes look decent. Slightly exaggerated zygomatic bone and I think I can see an ear, but otherwise the skull’s ok 6/10

The whole, relatively tiny fellow on the right has too few ribs and maybe a dislocated mandible (either that or it’s strange in ways I can’t word), decent arm bones though, from what I can see 5/10. The falling bones to the left suggest the vertebrae are fused and the big falling bone is very generic bone shape but too bendy so I can’t ID it.

#judge your bones #ask the judge #Dungeon Meshi #a lot of the pages suggested had a lot of bones all over the place rather than full skeles #which I dont have the brain power to judge properly today so Ive just gone for the complete ones I could find #the story looks really funky though i might check it out properly #thanks for the rec! #zygomatic bones = facial bones that are basically the cheekbones #mandible = lower jaw bone #vertebrae = spine bones #by generic bone shape i mean like the classic bone you get on pirate flags #theyre never quite an identifyable human bone though theyre closest to a humerus if anything #humerus = upper arm bone

[hidef-quatrevingt]

mecha’s image description & visual accessibility reference post:

disclaimer: This is mostly a reference for myself for the image descriptions I write in the future, including common things I see that I want to avoid. Some are with screenreader users in mind, some are with non-screenreader users in mind. I’m not claiming this is where describing images should begin or end, and i’m not the only low vision person out there. if you want to have better reference guides, i find here to be helpful.

Image description in alt text: Not all people who need image descriptions can or do use screenreaders. Alt text is hard to access without a screenreader on most browsers and versions of the app. Just put it in the post. If you don’t, it’s just showing that you don’t actually care about accessibility.

Image description under a read more, in a reblog, in small print, etc: This is a big one, and I’ve seen a ton of posts about it, but it can’t hurt to restate. This is inaccessible, and shows that your “accessibility” is performative. If the image description is under a readmore, if anything happens to your blog, then it will no longer be accessible. If a description is long, that’s ok. Just tag the post as long instead of using a read more. If you post art (or anything) with an image description in the reblog, people will have to go searching through the replies for it. It also makes it easy to separate the ID from the rest of the post. If the description is in small print, or otherwise formatted not in plain text, it’s inaccessible. Not all people who need image descriptions use screenreaders.

Put the most important info first: This is so someone can skip the screenreader to the next paragraph once they get the idea of the post.

“Image ID”: ID stands for “image description.” It is a common misconception that ID in this context means “identification” instead.

Capitalization (id vs ID): Maybe you’re going for aesthetics, or maybe you don’t capitalize letters very often. Keep in mind that screenreaders tend to read “id” (lowercase) as a word, like Freudian psychoanalysis, while “ID” (uppercase) is read as the individual letters. Hopefully you’re aiming for the individual letters, since that’s what Image Description is short for in this context.

Bold, Italicized, and Strikethrough text: I don’t know about others, but the screenreader I use doesn’t tell you which text is bold, italics, or strikethrough. If that is in any way relevant to understanding text in the image you’re describing, please specify what sections are bold. Example of how to do that: The text says: “My favorite color is green.” The word green is bolded.

Colored text: Similar to the above, colored text on Tumblr is not registered as different than plain text with a screenreader. It would be helpful if you made a note of colored text. You can use the same format I specified above.

Colored text, the sequel: Provide plain text when you‘re making posts that use colored text. Some people don’t use screenreaders, and they don’t need to justify that for you to make your posts accessible to them. Colored text on its own is inaccessible because it simply cannot be seen well by some people.

Video descriptions: Don’t separate video and audio descriptions. I don’t understand why this would make sense to anybody to do, but I’ve seen people do it regardless. In most videos, the audio and video are relevant to each other, and separating them makes it really confusing. I know it seems obvious, but think: is the content of the video actually understandable given the description you’ve provided?

Note when the image description is done, in a way that can be understood with or without a screenreader: The commonly used square bracket ] is not sufficient, because screenreaders do not read them aloud. Doing this well is most commonly achieved by putting “End ID” at the end of the description.

Sorry if this is too long, but if you do use this I hope it’s helpful. Have a good day!💗

#if u go to my blog and r like “mecha you never post ids” that’s because this is a sparsely used side blog #image descriptions #image description #image ids #accessibility #visual accessibility #mechaposting

[fakehelper]

Hello there! This is my new and (hopefully) improved tutorial on how to upload gifs for a gif pack page! Tumblr has changed in recent years when it comes to how to upload gifs and how they’re formatted (like .gifv coming in and ruining everyone’s day). People in the community have also made the shift towards more decorated and custom gif pack pages rather than strictly gif filled pages. As such, this tutorial will focus on how to prepare your gifs for those codes. Resources will be linked at the bottom!

NOTE: This tutorial is also available as a Google Doc (the recommended platform for reading this tutorial) with full size images that might be easier to see, however I know some users don’t like going outside of Tumblr to view tutorials, so it’s available on both platforms. To read the Google Doc version, please CLICK HERE.

Setting Up Your Gifs

Load all of your gifs as you usually would into a new post. I usually wait until I have around 20 gifs, then I get ready to move them. Moving them over periodically usually helps it feel like less of a strain waiting for a million gifs to load all at once. Make sure all of your gifs are under a READ MORE! This will prevent them from turning into the gifv format!

Once you’ve uploaded all your gifs, make sure to SAVE AS A DRAFT.

Next, you’re going to want to hit edit on the draft, again, this has to be SAVED before you can do the next step.

This is where all the magic happens. What we’re going to do is strip our gifs of any unnecessary code in a few simple steps. First, hit the gear icon at the top of your post and change the Text Editor from Rich Text to Markdown.

Next, you’re going to change it from Markdown, to HTML

Now, you’re going to want to keep this tab open, and set up your sidepage!

NOTE: If you are using the beta editor, you may require some extra steps to clean up your code! Read more here.

Setting Up Your Sidepage

Now you can create your new page. You can do so by going to Customize and then clicking Add a page (I recommend using a sideblog for this as it can heavily clog your main blog, and if you ever change your main url, you can keep the url of your gif pages the same). 

After creating your new page, make sure to change it from a standard layout to a custom layout using the dropdown menu, then give the page a url. You cannot save the page until you add a url.

Okay, now for the next step, you can use any gif page code you’d like! I have a tag here with codes made by many different theme makers to choose from! If you’d like to use one of mine, you can find them here. Today I’ll be using my newest theme as an example. From the post, download the code and paste it into the page. It should look something like this.

Now you’re going to want to find the section to add your gifs. In my older codes, you would be able to find it looking something like this:

For this theme, however, I used placeholders because of the trigger warning feature. To figure out more on how to use that feature of the theme, please read the tutorial here. For the sake of this tutorial, however, you can DELETE THESE PLACEHOLDERS (highlighted by the blue box, make sure you keep the <p> and </p> tags).

Once those are deleted, you’re going to go back to your tab with your gifs and select everything after [ [ MORE ] ] , but before the </p> tag, then copy it.

Now, paste your code in between the <p> and </p> tags. Hit Update Preview to make sure it’s loading correctly. Every time you add gifs, make sure there are NO SPACES between the img links. (aka make sure those < ... alt=”image”><img src=”...> are back to back instead of < ... alt=”image”>    <img src=”...> leaving a space in between).

And that’s all! Make sure to change the other parts of the theme necessary (titles, fc info etc) and you’re good to go! Always make sure to hit save before you navigate away!!

Resources

My Gif Pack Page Codes

Recommended Gif Pack Page Codes (tag)

Previous Tutorial (How to upload to a Standard Sidepage)

Barebones Code (for previous tutorial)

#rph #rpc #rp tutorial #rp guide #gif pack tutorial #gif pack guide #mytutorial #fakecontent #PLEASE READ THE GOOGLE DOC IF U CAN INSTEAD #it's way easier to read lmao

[classifiedinterests]

making the supernatural fandom more accessible

hey fellow spn fans!! what if we all teamed up to make the spn tumblr experience more accessible?

it sucks that some of the best posts this fandom churns out are completely unreadable to bloggers who use screen readers (or heck, even to people whose wifi sucks so that images never load).

take the amazing scripts that we’re currently so pumped about -- imagine you use a screen reader (if you don’t), and you hear fellow fans going completely feral over content you can’t access. you want to be in on the hype! but you have zero clue why everyone’s screaming about windmills or whatever, because the scripts getting shared are un-captioned screenshots.

...and then there are posts that are just. walls of text! which is really difficult for certain neurodivergent folks to read, such as those with adhd. being aware of that when making original posts (or comments) and adding more paragraph breaks -- and possibly even spicing up the text by bolding important parts, etc. -- is an easy fix for that!

so. here’s my proposal: each one of us commits to whatever level of effort is possible for us (given each person’s unique time, energy, abilities, etc.) in the joint effort to improve accessibility.

Level 1: the ID hunter.

when you go to reblog any spn post that includes images (whether that’s gifs, screenshots, fanart, etc.), check in the notes to see if someone else has added an image description already!

if they have, reblog from them so that the image description spreads further.

"BUT what if someone added the image description before certain commentary was added to the post, and i wanna reblog the post with those extra comments?”

Well, i can’t speak for everyone who creates image descriptions, but i for one don’t care if someone copies & pastes my ID so that they can add it to their own reblog. i don’t care that my blog’s no longer connected to the image description i wrote -- so long as the ID is spread, i’m happy!

Level 2: the copy-paste monster.

when you love another fan’s tags enough to add them to the post -- do so by copy & pasting them, not by screenshotting them!

for your own posts or comments: if you’re sharing, say, a quote from an article or a fanfic or a tweet, do so by copy & pasting the quote instead of taking a screenshot.

if someone else has already shared a screenshot from an article, fanfic, or tweet, and you have a link to the original, do the extra legwork to go to the source, copy and paste, and make an ID.

Level 3: the fandom angel.

If you have the ability, time, and energy to type out image descriptions for spn posts that don’t yet have one, please do it!

If even just a few of us commit to creating even just one ID per day each, that will add up!

And, of course, if you’re making your own post, give it an ID right there in the original posting, if you’re able! I understand that not everyone has the spoons (/time/energy/ability) to do this, and that’s okay. But those who can, please do!

Tumblr now allows you to put alt text on images, so you can do it that way or the old-fashioned way of just including your image description in the text of the post.

Not sure how to write an image description? This post offers some truly comprehensive advice on how to write IDs for various types of content, from photos to fanart to charts to screenshots of text.

By the way, I’ve seen folks ask that you don’t put the ID under a readmore. Keep it easy to access!

Nervous that you’re not gonna write an ID right? First off, practice makes perfect -- you’ll improve with time. I’m pretty sure that an imperfect or incomplete ID is better than no ID at all -- hopefully someone else will come along to reblog with any necessary corrections to whatever ID you write!

Level 4: the man of letters (gn).

You’re going above and beyond what this post advises -- you’re also out there coming up with and implementing other ways to improve accessibility!

Maybe you’re a blogger who uses a screen reader yourself, with more you want to add to this post from your own experience.

Maybe you’ll choose to seek out bloggers who use screen readers themselves -- or who have other accessibility needs -- so you can learn straight from them what their needs are.

Maybe it’s something else! I don’t know, but I do know this post is incomplete -- so please, share your ideas for other ways we can all work together to improve our fandom.

None of us has to do everything, but most of us can do something. If enough of us take even just small steps, we can create a more accessible fandom. Who’s with me?

If you’re in, please reblog this post so word can spread!

(I’m closing this by tagging some bloggers whom i’m hoping might be interested in helping me spread this around, because i am Not A Big Name in this fandom and can’t do it by myself! Let me know if you want me to un-tag you.)

@sunforgrace​ @castiellesbian​ @plantdadcas​ @jenderstudies​ @youchangedmedean​ @meadowdean​ @winchestersingerautorepair​ @phoebenatural​ @steveyockey​ @bedlund @seraphcastiel​ @marcusantonius @marynatural​ @redwing​ @t4tdeanwinchester​ @spn-brainrot​ @lobotomycas​ @samdyke​ @deanwinchesterforbatman2k21 @themanwhowouldbefruit @4x01​ @thatisahotsoup

#spn #supernatural #desticule #spn fandom

[ciaraloves]

where the arch meets

I have not read King of Scars so I do not know anything about the plot therefore some information about Nikolai could be outdated. This is also the first time I've ever written for this fandom so hopefully I did the characters justice. My friend and I watched S&B and were talking about ships and I said I wanted to see Kaz and Nikolai together which then prompted whatever the hell happened here, please enjoy!

CW: mentions of blood, mentions of gambling

There are no spoilers for the S&B show

masterlist; my links

[image has alt text]

Kaz stares out the window, a glum look on his usually stoic face. Ketterdam was alive, unusual joy spinning itself in the streets as the city busies itself for the arrival of the one and only King Nikolai Lantsov. The festivities of the "Peacekeeper" as he had been so lovingly named, had started three long days ago. Every day that Kaz wakes up to popping streamers, and the litany of ballads associated with the King's ever growing list accomplishments, is a day his stolen peace gets ripped from beneath him. He's not even sure why the King is so popular. He can't say he was anywhere near impressed enough at their brief meeting to warrant the five different ballads about those hazel eyes alone. Kaz looks down at the papers littering his desk, crow club books and bank statements for his various 'assets', communications between the various councils in Ravka and Ketterdam, and the most recent letter from Inej, smelling of the sea.

Their friendship is something of a mystery to the world but between them she is the rock that kept him steady. Even now, with her sailing the high seas content to her freedom, he can feel the unwavering quiet of her. Briefly, he wishes she were here. She would make him laugh, tell him to stop being so glum about the brown-eyed, blonde haired king if he insisted on doing nothing about it. He wouldn't let his amusement at her teasing show, but later in the safety of his room, this room, he'd let a rare smile show. He misses their quiet friendship most of all. But she is happy on her ship with her crew and he has shit to do. He always has shit to do.

The thought, stark and unwelcome, snaps him back to the present. A scowl replaces his faraway look as he shuts the window to the new round of baudy tunes drifting up and straight into the headache knocking at his skull. He sits back down harder than he intended, and winces at the pain that lances down his back and into his leg. He can hear Nina, chastising him for not putting on the salve, for not resting. But he doesn't have the time. He can't do something as normal as rest. He has a city to run. Or at least the underbelly of a city to run.

The statements stare at him but the numbers swirl like melting ice-cream in a bowl, and he wants to throw the pages in the fire in frustration. But he has never acted on emotion, and he will not start now. So he pushes away from his desk, cane already cool under his fingertips, and makes his way to the floors of the crow club.

The passage muffles the sounds of chips cluttering on a table, and glasses set down hard on the wood, and shouting when someone wins, loses, almost gets decked for supposed cheating. But as soon as he steps past the doors, nodding at the two guards he'd posted at this entrance, all of that chaos surrounds him. There is no hush as he steps into the room, no blanket of fear or anger or anything. They don't even know he is there. They won't until he makes himself known. Spending years with his Wraith had taught him some things, even with the click of his cane. He looks to the corner expecting to spot Jesper; his heart, as it had done every day since they had all parted ways, clenched upon seeing the empty space where his sharpshooter was supposed to be. The disappointment doesn't stop his eyes from travelling to the table closest to the kitchens— or as the Nina lovingly called it, the muck hut— where Wylan was usually hunched over notebooks or losing to just about everyone, except maybe Inej, in a game of cards.

He misses them. He'd never tell them, would never let it so much as flash across his face, but he couldn't stop his heart from the same onslaught. He felt it every day. Every time he looked to his window and Inej wasn't perched atop it. Every time he walked to the gambling tables and Jesper wasn't leaning over it, brown eyes shining with hope. Every time he wandered the corridors of the club hearing Wylan's flute. When he decides to put salve on it's because he hears Nina's voice, sees her frown, as she tries so hard to heal them. He even misses Matthias but that is a road he doesn't allow himself to go down. A failure he cannot yet acknowledge. His trip down memory lane ends abruptly when a man with a hood over his eyes, shadowing his face, steps up to him.

"You Kaz, Kaz Brekker?" The voice is rough, almost too rough, but the lilting accent is familiar. Before he can place it the man is talking again.

"I want to speak with you, about a deal."

Kaz tilts his head, resting gloved hands on his cane as he takes the figure in. "Liar."

The man sputters jerking back, and just briefly he catches a glimpse of golden skin and something shiny pinned to his coat. "It's urgent!" The man's voice is not so rough, and that accent, charming in a way, bleeds through more and more.

"I'm not available for deals." It is not true, but he wants to see how they'll react, what they're capable of if he says no.

"You'll like this one." The roughness has been replaced by arrogance. And the world opens wide for Kaz.

"Come," He turns, already limping towards the doors and his rooms beyond. "Don't say anything until we're behind closed doors"

It takes them exactly one minute and twelve seconds to get to his study. As soon as he hears the door click behind him, he lifts his cane and with brutal precision he rips through the clasp at the man's chest and watches the coat land in a heap on his wooden floor. Letting the crows head of his cane fall back into his hand he finally looks up. "What are you doing here King?" The question holds more exhaustion than he's willing to admit.

"What?" The King of Ravka grins, beautiful and bright and full of arrogance, "You aren't happy to see me?"

And Kaz wants to tell him no and piss off and leave me alone, but his heart is pounding and there is blood rushing between his ears and he doesn't really remember what breathing does, how it works. Because this is the first time he's ever seen Nikolai. When they met all those years ago he was Sturmhond, the privateer. Since then Kaz has only seen posters, and art. But none of them, not a single one, has ever done the king justice. He is........ he is magic.

"Oh come on," The blonde is laughing. It sounds like water. It sounds like peace. "You can't expect me to act like a stranger after all the letters we've sent." Yes, the letters. The updates King Nikolai had requested about Ketterdam, about the barrel, about the illegal smuggling of grisha to work as slaves. Those letters. "What?" The King looks at him speculatively, amusement sparking in his hazel eyes— they suit him so much better than the green of Sturmhond. "Volcra got your tongue?"

“Didn't know you would be in town," Kaz manages to grind out. He hopes it sounds like irritation and not infatuation.

"The six million posters and seven ballads about my adventures aboard the Kingfisher were not notice enough?" That grin is back. It is ruining him. "Oh dear, next time I'll be sure to add floating parades to the mix."

"That's tomorrow." He glowers. He doesn't think the blonde could get anymore insufferable. He is wrong.

"Do you have plans to attend then?"

He ignores the question, the tease. "What are you doing here Lantsov?"

"I'm here for the festival Mr, Brekker."

"I mean here." He motions to the room, to him. "What are you doing in the Barrel, in my club—" He wants to say 'in my room'. He catches himself.

"I came," Nikolai steps a little closer. There's still do much distance between them, practically an ocean, but Kaz can feel the tension wrapping around his lungs. He wants out. He wants closer. He wants, he wants, he wants....... "To visit a friend Mr Brekker. I don't exchange letters detailing my failed attempt at diving through the sky with just anyone." Oh saints he's going to die. He's never going to survive this. His face is a brick wall, a crack where his frown breaks through.

"You are a busy man King, busier even, than i am." He wants to applaud himself for the steadiness of his voice. "I doubt that you had time to just pop by. So what do you want, Nikolai?"

There is a flash of something in those beautiful eyes, and he wants to chase it to the ends of the earth. "Must we always have an ulterior motive?" The voice is quiet, but it is filled with curiosity and emotions Kaz doesn't have the ability to unpack. "Is it not good enough that I wanted to see you Kaz."

The Underboss of Ketterdam becomes a rain, becomes wind, and earth, and gold. He sits down on his desk, uninterested in the groan of the wood as it tries to carry his weight. Nikolai looks at him, soft and open, all that charm hidden- packed away for a moment far removed from this one. Somehow the distance has shrunk between them until there is only two steps, maybe three before their bodies can collide. He knows Nikolai would not come closer, but some part of him wants the king to try. Wants to see what would happen. He shoves that part so far down it got to hell before him.

"Say something," The blonde whispers.

"How long till they realize you've snuck off?" The bark of laughter that escapes the king is like jurda straight into his bloodstream.

"We have an hour tops."

"Let's go." He throws a new hood, midnight blue and embellished with golden thread, at him. It's his own. He doesn't have time to find another. Nikolai puts it on, fastening the small gold clasp at his front, and Kaz has to remind himself to breathe when he sees how beautiful those colours are against that golden skin. It looks a thousand times better on Nikolai than it ever had in him.

"Where are we off to then?" The blonde asks, his familiar charm steady through his features once more. "You're not intending to kidnap me and sell me to the highest bidder are you?" Before he can even start to ignore the question Nikolai is carrying on. "I have to tell you I won't make a very high bid. I seem to have botched myself a little when I turned into one of the Darkling's little pets. I think my di—"

"Shut up will you," He snaps, black eyes scanning the club as they walk through it.

"A little tense Mr Brekker," He can hear the grin. He doesn't know whether he wants to slap it or stare at it. He keeps walking.

They're outside and it's just started to drizzle and he has the brief thought that maybe he shouldn't be making the king of Ravka gallivant in the rain. But then he catches a glimpse of Nikolai's expression, full of wonder and glinting with excitement and he can't turn back even if he wants to.

"Kaz," Saints he loves the way the blonde says his name. "I really think it's better if I know where we're going, sake of safety and all that."

"We're going to the docks."

"You're not intending to drown me, are you?" There is no concern hidden behind the question, only delighted amusement.

"If I had intended to be rid of you Nikolai," Kaz turns his head, stares at the man, "I would have done it the second you walked into my club."

"Even though you didn't know it was me?"

It's his turn to smirk, and he revels in it. "I know everyone that comes into my club, King." The title reverberates in his throat. He catches the flash in the royal's eye.

"Why are you taking us to the docks?"

"I want to show you something, privateer." The strangled noise he hears in answer makes him force down the smile threatening to erupt.

The rain is at that awkward stage where it's more than a drizzle but less than a downpour. The kind that seeps into your clothes, makes your bones wet before you can even feel it on your skin. But they're almost there, he can see their destination clear in front of him. They are quiet, a rare thing for Nikolai he thinks, as they walk. Every now and then he glances to his companion who is always staring at the world in wonder. Like every corner produces a new kind of thrill. Like he'll be able to collect them all and bottle them for his journey home.

"Why are you staring at my pretty face?" The subject of his hidden amazement asks. "You've never been one to appreciate beauty Mr Brekker. If you did you'd have commented on my lovely violet wax seals at least once." He fights the urge to roll his eyes at that. The wax seals were the least interesting thing about the letters. He usually ripped them open like a mad man, clawing for the content inside and reading it as if it were going to disappear before he could get to the, 'fondly, Nikolai Lantsov' at the end.

"I have more interest in the contents inside."

At that the King does roll his eyes, "Oh yes, the ever so interesting reports about dock lookouts and safe grisha arrivals."

"It's my business."

"Mhm" Is all the blonde has to say.

They step onto the docks, and the tap of his cane, louder, more prominent on the wood, rings slightly in his ears. It's a comforting sound. One he has come to rely on to keep him steady. Especially when there's a king walking in stride with him, a king who kind of looks like the sun just before it disappears over the horizon. A king who scents his letters with lavender because he wants people to know calmness. A king who has never touched him but always stands close enough that he can feel the heat of him.

He recognizes the marker that tells him they're in the right place and then he motions for Nikolai to stay behind him. "Its small so we'll have to be close together." He says quietly.

"Are you okay with that?" The question is so gentle, so full of worry it almost buckles his knees.

"I'll manage."

"Kaz," He sounds hesitant, he sounds worried. "You don't have to force yourself to do something for me."

"I'm not, now come on before it disappears." And then they're stepping into an alcove only slightly bigger than a coffin and they're so close and there's so little air. But still Nikolai is not touching him and the leather of Kaz's gloves is warm against his skin. There is no part if him exposed to the elements, except his face. He takes one breath, takes two. The king is looking at him with concern, it is swimming in his features.

"Look up." Together they tilt their heads, and as the weak sunlight, bogged by rain, sinks to the floor the gems buried in the stones of the roof above them come ablaze. Crimson reds, and sapphire blues, and forest greens, and golden yellows. The light fractures and morphs and dances around them, like coloured stars.

He had discovered this wonder in a burning rage, trailing blood down the docks. He'd beaten up a man who betrayed their gang- dirty work for the boss- but half way down the docks he'd thought he was being followed and he slipped into this little alcove. He comes back every chance he gets.

"This is—" For once King Nikolai Lantsov is speechless. "How did you even find such a thing?" The hood had fallen off his head when he looked up so every angle of his face is on sharp display. The miserable lighting only made him more golden as if he was defying the weather simply by existing. And the gemstones reflected in his eyes, turning them every shade of rare rainbow. One of three Kaz had ever seen in Ketterdam.

He just raises a brow. "We should be getting back, I'm sure they've already sounded the alarm."

The blonde snorts, "They're used to it by now."

"Oh you sneak off to visit all your friends?" They step out carefully, making sure not to disturb the structure or get caught in the act.

"Feeling less special?"

"Wondering if maybe you should pay your guards more."

They bicker all the way back, about everything, trading wit and meaningless insults in equal measure. Kaz insists on dropping Nikolai off at his lodgings and Nikolai insists he doesn't have to despite leading them towards the building he's staying in. When they finally arrive, it is with a sense of longing for more that settles between them. More time, more laughter, more traded quips, just more.

"Goodbye Mr Brekker." The King bows his head.

"Nikolai." He nods.

"Come visit me in Ravka soon." It's the line he prints in every letter, no matter how far apart their replies are, or how many other things they have going on. Kaz never acknowledges it. He won't put that kind of hope into them. He must stay here. He must work.

But today, with happiness bubbling under his skin, he cant help but let loose a small smile and a dangerous promise. "I'll try."

And fading under the bustle of people is a small golden plaque on the floor of the alcove. "To those we love, and love unconditionally." A bigger promise, one that has lasted through time itself.

"That's all we can do Kaz," Nikolai smiles. "We try."

#Kaz x Nikolai #Nikolai x Kaz #Kaz Brekker/Nikolai Lantsov #grishaverse #The grisha trilogy #six of crows duology #shadow & bone #six of crows #Kaz Brekker #Nikolai Lantsov #TLYJ writes #soc #s&b

[xenonmalachite]

so Pixie now has a redesign.  so here she is! Crosshair’s little niece. I’ll admit, British Sign language or sign language in general is a bit of a task to draw but hopefully i can get better. 

since Pixie uses sign language to talk, i had to look up multiple diagrams and videos to help me get what she’s saying right. it’s a bit difficult as this is a new area for me. I’m thinking maybe she also writes or uses something for text to speech to talk to those who may not know sign. her uncle and aunt obviously know sign but the other autobots may not so she’s stuck on figuring out how to communicate with them if both her aunt and uncle are away. 

but other than that i think she turned out cute. i made a little human version because why not

she has a different colour scheme so she looks more like his niece rather than a daughter. a niece is what i was going for. and look. she has a lil pair of goggles like her uncle. i think she turned out well

Bio Below the cut

Name: Pixie

Nicknames: Pix, Froggy, Frog, Tadpole, Kiddo, Pixie Frog.

Age: youngling. 

Faction: autobots

Alt. Mode: (Too young to transform)

Family: Crosshairs (Uncle), Loco Motion / Dot (Aunt), Fuselage (father) 

hobbies and interests:

Frogs, frog catching, reading, animal crossing, plushies, herpetology, swimming, nature, bugs, camping, puzzle games

personality:

Pixie is mostly an energetic little kid who loves to explore and learn. she’s adventurous and curious, always asking questions and watching how things work. she’s shy to new people and mostly quiet. when she’s not excitedly chasing after frogs, she’s reading about them. she thinks it’s funny she shares the name of a species of frog. though, she doesn’t have a limit to questions and can be accidentally distracting. she’s still learning a lot, being a little kid. she’s also opposite in bravery to her uncle. she’s jumpy and can be a bit emotional. she gets easily frustrated when not understood. she’s been known to have a bad habit of wandering off a lot. She’s nonverbal and has to communicate what she needs in a different way. her uncle is starting to rub off on her, and she’ll do small little prank favors only in exchange for some energon sweets. she’s clever and loves trying to problem solve when it comes to puzzles. she loves solving logic puzzles. she’s got a lot to learn in her young age, but don’t underestimate her, there’s stuff she knows and she will surprise you with her knowledge. 

Background:

Pixie was born on earth when Fuselage and his partner first arrived on earth. Crosshairs, who had arrived around the same time was around for majority of Pixie’s first years, watching Pixie grow with her parents. She instantly looked forward to when he would visit. Even from her younger years, it was clear Pixie didn’t talk. Crosshairs had taught her to sign when he remembered a deaf comrade he had back on cybertron. 

eventually, Crosshairs had to take leave to join the battles between the autobots and decepticons. Pixie didn’t quite understand so everyday she basically waited for her uncle to come back. that day never happened that Crosshairs would return to her family’s home. Pixie soon got lost when walking in the woods. seeing that she was too far from home, she started sending out distress signals as she started trying to find her way back, getting even more lost

luckily for her, Crosshairs had received her signals by sheer chance. he and his conjunx endura, Loco Motion, managed to find Pixie. unfortunately, so did cemetery wind. the two fled with pixie, afraid of what cemetery wind would do with the information of what a youngling was like. fearing the worst for her parents, as they couldn’t be contacted, Loco Motion and Crosshairs took little Pixie under their wing. Because of the unfamiliarity, Pixie was a little weary warming up to Loco Motion, but eventually they got along. she started calling Loco Motion “aunty Coco.” which seemed to stick. she traveled with her uncle and aunt to reunite with the remaining autobots

Pixie was very shy meeting the other autobots and was initially very scared of hound. Hound was loud and the amount of weaponry on him frightened the heck out of Pixie. she did get confident enough to be in the same location as him but so far that’s as good as it got. she had a little less trouble warming up to bumblebee though, given his younger demenor. she’s slowly warming up more to drift, though the sight of his swords do scare her a little sometimes. during the storming of KSI and the rescue of optimus he had to stay hidden. during the fight in England in The Last Knight, she remained in Lockdown’s old ship, hiding, as instructed by her uncle. 

but one thing happened during the fight. a con snuck on board. with drift piloting the ship, and Pixie in a compartment on the other side, there was trouble. with her uncle fighting on the ground below, she was stuck. so she climbed into the roof and when the con came past below her, she dropped a heavy book on him. it knocked the con out just enough for Pixie to run to Drift and alert him to the situation, something Crosshairs is very proud of her for doing. not just alerting drift, but for being the clever and brave little tadpole she is. she’s not quite ready to start training as an autobot yet but she has the potential for being one in the future. 

Misc:

- her “birthday” is july 5th

#transformers oc #tf oc #my oc #pixie #loco motion #transformers ocs #bayverse ocs #bayverse #bayformers #crosshairs #transformers crosshairs #bayverse crosshairs #humanformers #malachite arts #transformers bayverse

[set-phasers-to-whump]

gunpoint

prompt: gunpoint (alt no.9)

whumpee: malcolm bright

fandom: prodigal son

hey hi hello! back with some malcolm whump :) hope you enjoy! i wrote this as pre-brightwell but you can read them however you like :) 

Malcolm stands outside the suspect’s apartment building, debating over whether or not he should text someone to let them know where he is. On one hand, if he gets into trouble, they’ll know where to find him, but on the other hand, if he tells them what he’s doing they might come and stop him from doing it. 

It’s quite the dilemma, one which is solved by a text arriving from Dani: what are u doing tonight?

You can’t tell anyone

Do I really want to know?

I’m at Paulsen’s apartment building

His phone rings, and he answers it quickly to avoid the noise attracting attention. 

“You’re at the suspect’s apartment?”

“I’m not inside yet.” He steps into the building behind a man that’s just come in, and asks him to hold the elevator as he hurries across the lobby. “Now I am,” he tells Dani, pressing the button for the fifteenth floor. 

“You’re in - Malcolm,” Dani says. “You’re inside?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Don’t do anything too stupid. I’m coming. Give me ten minutes.”

“You really don’t have to -”

She hangs up before he can finish his sentence. The elevator reaches the fifteenth floor, doors sweeping open with a ding.

Malcolm steps out, taking a look around. This is the floor below where their suspect lives, but he’d gotten a weird feeling when they’d first come here to check the place out - apart from being the home of the suspect, the building had also been home to two of the three people who had been killed in the past five days. When they’d come asking about the murders, their suspect had been casual, unbothered, and entirely too welcoming given that two of his neighbors had just been brutally murdered. 

They’d done more digging on the man, and Malcolm had completed a profile, and all evidence pointed to him having done it. But it wasn’t enough, Malcolm knew - he could tell that there was something they weren’t seeing, something missing, and he was willing to bet it was in this apartment building. 

Hence why he’s here now, walking up and down the halls of the fifteenth floor, looking for something that he has no idea how to find. 

Maybe something like a utility closet? he wonders, approaching a wooden door with a sign proclaiming it off-limits to tenants. It’s older than the rest of the doors on the floor, and it creaks ominously when Malcolm opens it. 

There’s nothing there. A bucket. A circuit board. A water heater. A vent in the ceiling. 

This seems like a room that should be kept locked, he thinks, turning on his phone’s flashlight and peering behind the water heater. A simple sign isn’t enough to keep everyone out, and he doubts building management wants people to have access to the floor’s electricity. 

He heads back to the door to examine its doorknob, which does have a keyhole, as well as a chain lock on the inside. The keyhole is fairly scraped up with regular use, but the chain lock looks new. Malcolm wonders who might have a key, and who might have the motivation to install a secondary, interior, lock.

He pulls the door shut and turns back to the room, thoughts shifting away from who has access to this place? to who wants access to this place? He can’t imagine a utility person would need a chain lock, and thinks there must be a reason for it to have been installed.

Malcolm looks around, and his eyes land on the ceiling vent. It’s an average size, too small to fit a person through, but the right size for fitting smaller things through - murder weapons, for example. Among thousands of other things. But it’s an idea, anyway, so Malcolm grabs a small stepladder and places it beneath the vent, shining his flashlight up at it to get a better look. 

It seems to open into the floor of a room above him, but from what Malcolm can see through the metal, it’s not another closet. In fact, he thinks, it might be an apartment. He does some mental gymnastics and works out that it’s perfectly possible for the apartment above him to belong to their suspect. 

He turns on his phone to call Dani back and tell her his thoughts. 

“I’m almost in the parking lot,” she says, before he has a chance to say anything. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m in a utility closet on the fifteenth floor,” Malcolm replies, “and I think I might have found something.”

“What kind of something?”

“Uhh...it might be nothing. But there’s this vent in here, and I think it might open into Paulsen’s apartment.”

“...And?”

“That’s all I’ve got,” Malcolm admits. “Maybe you can come have a look for yourself, see what you think.”

“I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

Malcolm figures it’s best to stay where he is and wait for Dani to come. While he waits, he busies himself with again looking up through the vent, standing on his tiptoes on the ladder to get a better view. 

The door to the closet opens with a loud, startling squeak, and Malcolm nearly falls off the ladder. “Dani,” he says, stepping down and turning around. “You scared me.”

His eyes fall on the person in the doorway - who is definitely not Dani.

“You’re...not Dani.”

Their suspect, Paulsen, smiles. “No, I am not,” he agrees, stepping into the room and pulling the door shut behind him. He slides the chain lock closed and switches off the lights. 

“Give me your phone,” he instructs Malcolm, holding out a hand in the light of the phone’s flashlight. 

“Why?”

Paulsen draws a gun from his jacket, turns off the safety, and aims it at Malcolm’s chest. “Because if you don’t, I’ll shoot you.”

Malcolm complies, handing over the phone. Paulsen turns off its flashlight, then throws it to the ground, smashing it under his foot. 

“Guess I have to get a new phone now,” Malcolm complains, not terribly anxious about the whole having-a-gun-pointed-at-him thing. “I might have to see about buying a stronger one, though.”

“Shut up,” Paulsen fairly growls, stepping closer to Malcolm, until Malcolm can physically feel him standing there. He imagines the gun, aimed straight at him in the dark. 

“What’s the plan here?” Malcolm whispers. “Are you really going to kill me?”

The cold metal barrel of the gun presses against his forehead. “Shut. Up.”

He shuts up. He doesn’t want to get shot. Especially not in the head. 

“Now listen to me,” Paulsen says, and he’s close enough that Malcolm can feel his breath on his face. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Are you here alone?”

Malcolm nods, forehead scraping against the gun. 

“Good. You’re going to leave this closet. I’ll be right behind you, so don’t think about trying anything dumb, okay?”

Malcolm nods again, swallowing hard. He can’t decide whether he wishes Dani would show up now or not.

“We’re going to walk out of here, nice and easy, down the hall, to the elevator, through the lobby. Got that?”

He nods a third time, hand starting to shake. He balls it into a fist.

“Then we are going to get into my car. I’ll drive, but this gun isn’t going to go away. You even think about running, and I’ll shoot you. Is all that clear?”

Another nod. He really doesn’t want to get into a car with this guy, but he very much believes what he’s saying. Plus, it might be a good way to understand him a little more, add information to his profile for his inevitable arrest. Which will come, Malcolm knows. Hopefully it comes before he gets shot.

They step out into the hallway, Malcolm first, the gun pressed into his back, digging into the skin with every step he takes. He feels his breath start to catch in his throat, feels his hands start to shake more, and tries desperately to stop the feeling of fear coursing through him. He’ll be fine. He’ll get out of this. 

They round a corner, the elevators in sight. Just then, one of them opens, and Paulsen drags Malcolm back around the corner, pressing the gun to the back of his head. Malcolm gets the message well enough and keeps his mouth shut. 

Footsteps draw near, and Paulsen curses under his breath. Malcolm’s heart is pounding now, and he has this terrible feeling that something really bad is about to happen. 

Paulsen pulls him backwards as the steps get closer, backing them down the hall, putting the gun again to Malcolm’s back, and kind of leaning against him, casually, as if to disguise the presence of the gun. 

The person rounds the corner, and even in the dim light, Malcolm can tell it’s Dani. She’s looking at her phone, muttering to herself, but she looks up about when she’s about halfway to Malcolm, and he sees her eyes widen in surprise. 

“Bright?”

The gun presses harder still into his back. “Hey, Dani, what’s up?” he calls out, aiming for casual but failing spectacularly. 

“What’s going on?”

“Who is that?” Paulsen hisses into Malcolm’s ear. 

“Colleague,” Malcolm replies, eyes trained on Dani, who is watching their conversation with a look of understanding on her face. 

“Make her leave,” Paulsen instructs, and Malcolm imagines his finger tightening on the trigger. 

“Do you think you could maybe turn around?” he asks, trying to ignore the slight shaking of his own voice. “Just leave. Get back to the elevator, down to the lobby…”

Dani shakes her head minutely. “That’s not gonna happen,” she says, her words not directed at Malcolm. “Let him go.”

“No,” Paulsen replies, and his voice is strong, unafraid. Malcolm doesn’t like that. It’s in line with his profile of the man, which he is at this moment really wishing he’d been wrong about. The guy is ruthless, but collected, meticulous...Malcolm has a feeling that he might very well be dying tonight. 

He doesn’t want to die tonight. He really doesn’t. He has to do something. 

He pushes himself forwards, feeling the metal of the gun leave his back, and runs, shouting at Dani to run, too. He sees her draw her gun, hears a shot, and another, feels something hit his shoulder, sending him spinning off balance. He hits the ground with the terrible realization that he doesn’t know whose gun had gone off. Who might be hurt.

He lies there in horrible uncertainty for a couple terrible seconds, his head spinning. His shoulder feels like he’s been punched, but he knows he’s been shot. And maybe Dani has been shot, too…

He stumbles to his feet, overcome for a moment with dizziness. When his vision clears, he sees Dani on the floor, kneeling over Paulsen, cuffing him. He’s bleeding from his leg, where, evidently, Dani had shot him. 

Malcolm watches silently as Dani wrestles the man to his feet and drags him along, phone to her ear, no doubt talking to Gil. She walks up to Malcolm, who instinctively backs away at the close presence of Paulsen. 

“You okay?” she asks, and Malcolm can only nod. He’s not, though. He’s been shot, and he’s pretty sure it’s not serious, but he’s been shot, and for a long time he’d thought that he was going to be shot, and there had been the cold, unforgiving metal of the gun pressed to his skin to remind him of that fact, and he imagines the feeling is going to stick with him for quite some time, and his hands are shaking again and he can smell the metallic scent of his own blood, and he is overall definitely not okay. But he follows Dani and Paulsen into the elevator anyway, pressing a trembling hand to the wound on his shoulder, which, he can feel, is fortunately only a graze.

“Buses should be here any minute,” Dani says, as the group of three leave the building. “You gonna be okay til then?”

Malcolm nods again, sitting down heavily on the building’s concrete stoop. He watches Dani drag Paulsen along to stand on the curb, glad he’s farther away now. She looks down the street anxiously, and he sees her relax when the red and blue lights of police cars approach. 

Malcolm feels himself relax at their presence, too, sinking his body further into the cold concrete. It’s going to be fine, he reminds himself, watching Dani hand over Paulsen to another officer. He knows it’s going to be fine. 

His body doesn’t seem to care about what his brain knows, though. He’s still shaking, not just his hands, now, but the rest of him, too. He’s breathing too heavily, and he can’t stop feeling a gun pressing into his back, is hyperaware of the blood slowly dripping down his shoulder despite his hand trying to hold it back. 

Dani sinks down on the step next to him and touches a hand to his arm. He startles, jerking away from her and hating himself for it. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says reassuringly. “Paulsen’s in custody and the ambulances are less than a minute out.”

He can’t bring himself to nod this time. He feels a shaky breath catch in his throat, and before he can stop himself there are tears pooling in his eyes. 

He sniffs and tries to make them go away, but it’s no use. His vision blurs up, swirling together the colors of the flashing lights around him. 

“Can I touch you?” Dani asks, and he finds he would actually really like that now, so he does nod this time, and then her arm is around him, very gentle and mindful of the gunshot wound on his left shoulder. Her hand touches his back, right where the gun had been, but feeling nothing at all like the gun had. 

“You’re shaking,” she points out, and carefully tugs him closer. “You cold?”

He shrugs with his right shoulder. “Not really. Just some lingering terror, I guess. Stupid.”

“Hey,” Dani says, her voice serious. “It’s not stupid to be scared. He had you at gunpoint, Malcolm. He shot you.”

“Ambulance’s here,” an officer Malcolm isn’t familiar with interrupts their conversation. “So’s Lieutenant Arroyo.”

With that information, Dani stands up, grabbing Malcolm’s right bicep and gently hauling him to his feet so he doesn’t have to let go of his shoulder. He lets her guide him to the ambulance, tears still clouding his vision. He sinks down onto a stretcher and sees Dani mouth meet you at the hospital. He nods in acknowledgement as two paramedics hover over him, asking him questions he has no idea how to answer. 

“Just get moving,” he hears a wonderfully familiar voice say. “I’ll give you as much information as I’ve got, but let’s not waste time here.”

“Yes, sir,” says one of the paramedics, and with that, the ambulance doors shut and the engine starts. 

“Gil,” Malcolm says, locking eyes with him from across the ambulance. 

“Hey, kid,” Gil says, with a tight smile. “How you doing?”

“Not so good,” Malcolm replies, honestly. “Hurts.” In all honesty, it doesn't hurt that much, but saying it hurts is easier than explaining that he’s still scared, despite the fact that the threat has been completely removed, despite the fact that he knows he’s safe. 

“I know,” Gil says, reaching out a hand and grabbing Malcolm’s bloody one. “But it’s going to be okay.”

“I know.”

“Everything is going to be okay, you understand?”

“I know.”

“Good. But don’t you think you’re off the hook for this either. We will be having a talk as soon as we get you fixed up.”

“Okay.”

They arrive at the hospital a moment later, and Malcolm’s hand frantically reaches for Gil’s when he’s pulled away. 

“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he hears Gil promise, as Malcolm is pushed through a set of doors. “We’ll be right here.”

They’ll be there for him...Gil, Dani, probably Ainsley, and his mother, maybe JT, Edrisa...the thought is enough to make Malcolm almost smile. Maybe he really is going to be okay.

thanks so much for reading this!!! i have done a lot of other writing today so this might not be like. the best. but i did have a fun time writing it! hope you liked it!

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday20 #gunpoint #prodigal son #malcolm bright #at gunpoint #shot #fear #my writing #i say things

[ltbroccoli]

Warning: Tony/brashir is a bully.

EDIT: Tony has had the callout doc taken down twice. Please see the post linked here to access a new version of it.

Anyone who knows me knows that I despise getting myself involved in drama. However, there are times when it's necessary, and one such time is to defend a friend. This post is rather long, but I ask you to please read it in its entirety. This is a summary of a full length callout, which you can read here.

Some of you may have seen the post by Tony (brashir) calling out Serena (empathicstars) -- if you haven't, I'll link to it here. It's pretty shocking, and horrifying to read. There's just one problem: none of it is true.

Tony had a bad breakup with his fiance, Ray, back in August of 2019 (some of you may remember him as seamworn). Tony claims that Ray was abusive towards him. This is a lie. Ray has made mistakes, certainly, and their relationship was not a healthy one. But all of Tony's claims of abuse simply don't line up, and most of the evidence points to Tony as the abusive one. The same is true for Tony's other claims -- that Ray is racist, that he fakes his triggers, that he's stolen money, that he forces survivors to write r*pe with him, etc. -- all are untrue.

After their breakup, Serena chose to remain friends with both Tony and Ray. She was extremely upfront about this decision, and Tony told her repeatedly, for months, that this was fine. He did try to manipulate her into dropping Ray, but she never did so, as Ray had actually apologized for his actions and was working hard to become the best person he could be away from Tony's influence.

In regards to Tony's claim that Serena is best friends with a racist white person: this is referring to me. About a year and a half ago, someone in the Doctor Who RPC added the character Krasko, who is canonically a racially motivated mass murder, to their multimuse. Tony and others in the RPC burst into action, calling this person out and harassing them over their choice of muse. I am someone who is very open about separation of IC and OOC -- it's featured prominently in my rules that I do not believe writing something is the same as supporting it -- and felt very uncomfortable watching this go down.

I did not address the situation directly, but I did reblog a rather targeted PSA post. Ray (still together with Tony at the time) messaged me to confront me about it. I then blocked him at his request, and took the chance to cut off Tony and several others in the RPC that I had been growing more and more uncomfortable with. In hindsight, I was not as open to conversation as I could have been, and I don't think I would defend that person's writing today, not unless I actually knew them and could personally vouch for the respectfulness of their portrayal. However, I would still defend them from harassment, as that is never an appropriate response under any circumstances.

Serena and I did discuss this at the time, and she made it clear that she did not agree with my stance. However, we still remained friends. Serena was again upfront about this, and no one ever told her to drop me. The claim that Serena is ignoring BIPOC voices is untrue. The BIPOC voices he's referring to are only him and his friends, and those voices have lied to her face. Serena was told clearly, directly, and repeatedly that it was okay to be friends with Ray, that it was okay to be friends with me. Then a few months ago, Tony dug up the incident I had with Ray so he could turn on a dime and attack Serena for it, triggering her and driving her out of their friend group for good.

Additionally, since this has happened, Serena has been directly harassed and most recently doxxed. A friend still in Tony's server gave Joel (Serena's husband) a warning that Serena's phone number had been shared in the group, and that they were signing her up for spam. Since then, Serena has received various Trump and Republican propaganda texts, as well as explicit imagery and videos. The group has also evaded blocks to harass her on Tumblr. Ray has been dealing with similar forms of harassment for over a year now, and I've even had a small taste of it myself when one of Tony's group made an alt Discord account in an effort to sneak into one of my servers.

At this point, I frankly don't care what Serena or Ray supposedly did or did not do. This behavior is unacceptable. This behavior is illegal. Both Serena and Ray have tried to apologize, tried to ignore everything and move on, but Tony keeps dragging the same issues up, over and over, refusing to let anyone let it go.

And this is not motivated by racism, whatever Tony claims. If racism were the root of the problem, I would be the target, not Serena. Yet I have received almost nothing about this, while Serena has been doxxed and harassed. The root of the problem is that Serena did not cut Ray off like Tony wanted, and he lost his control over her. He's masked his anger as social justice to rally his friend group against her.

I cannot stress the following statement enough: Tony is a bully. He is a liar, an abuser, a manipulator, and so much more. This has reached the point where legal action is being seriously considered, and that is not a decision any of us have made lightly. We have also been reporting this to Discord and to Tumblr, in hopes that something will force this to come to an end; this process is ongoing.

Over the past several months, I have been working on a callout to bring all of this to light, in the hopes that others will see how bad the situation has been and hopefully take measures to protect themselves from being targeted in the way that we have. That document is now complete, and it's linked here. It's quite long, but it debunks Tony's many false claims and provides evidence for everything I've stated above. It also namedrops everyone in Tony's friend group that has been directly involved in his harassment and doxxing, for awareness.

If you feel that Serena, Ray, or I have done something unforgivable -- I understand. If you feel you must cut us off, we will miss you, but we will not fight you on it. But please, please do not trust Tony, and be extremely wary if you choose to keep him in your life.

And if you feel so inclined, please reblog this post so that others can see Tony and his friends for the bullies that they truly are. If you have any questions or concerns, please contact me or Joel directly and off-anon (he can be reached on @solitaryskies or @themekets). Serena has requested not to be contacted about this, for her own mental health; please respect this.

#computer end program ( .｡.:*☆ OOC. ) #drama / #callout / #namedrop /

[tranderas]

My email to Failbetter Games

I rarely see a reason to hide my motivations or actions. I don’t have a lot of regrets in life, because as I got older- I’m 34 now- I came to understand that it’s pointless. Try to learn, grieve things like lost friendships and loved ones as best you can, and be the best person your emotional and physical state allows you to be.

Anyway

To that end, I thought I’d air out my grievances to FBG in a rather long email. It was a long time coming as I wasn’t convinced emails would do anything. Elias on the Failbetter Community discord server suggested I at least try, and I spent a week of proofreading to make sure I was as courteous as I could manage to be despite my feelings. I’m angry, angry because this game was so dear for me for so long and it feels like the current team has taken it in a direction so much in the opposite of what I find fun.

That anger is unhealthy, of course. Art evolves. Bands change their sound because they get bored or they want to make money tapping into a new audience. Painters refine and improve their style. Writers improve the range of their vocabulary and change tone. Everything shifts in this world. The healthiest thing to keep in mind is the fact that the thing you loved was there for that point in time and nothing can take that away from you, from your favorite game as a child to your favorite bands in your teenage years, you’ll always have those moments of joy.

I want to hold onto this moment of joy that I experience with Fallen London as long as possible, so I wrote this email in the hope of convincing them to alter their direction so I can enjoy it a little bit longer. Except for the signature that contained my real name at the end- not that it’s hard to find if you care, as my facebook url is /tranderas- the text is unmodified. Hopefully this shines light on what I want. 

What I don’t want is discussion about my needs. This is my place to explain, to vent, to point people to instead of typing everything out every time someone asks. But enough stalling.

___

Hello, I was encouraged in a Twitter interaction to write in and expand on my thoughts on the game so I figured I would do so now. Since I started writing this email before reading the December balance announcement, I'll address that at the bottom. The sparknotes version of what I'd like is as such: More content in London itself (especially socials), more Zee destinations, a profession uptuning, a fundamental rework of the deck that goes beyond favors, and a non-docks favor buff. From most to least important, the things I'd like to see addressed are:

1. The lack of endgame content within London itself is concerning to me for two reasons:

a. I play FL because it is a social electronic game, and I want to stay in zones in which I can continue to do social interactions. This is the reason I stay in London rather than going to Iron Republic and Port Carnelian, my first and second favorite zones respectively. If I wanted a story rich solo game I'd play Sunless Sea; if I wanted an analogue experience I'd play Blades in the Dark or read one of the books that influenced FL's style.

b. I simply don't like the mechanics of lab or parabola or how they gatekeep content. Because of this I haven't had any free content to pursue since the release of the new heists, and for a much longer length of time before that.

2. I'd love to see the remaining tier 3 professions given something they can do at lodgings. In general I prefer buffs instead of nerfs, especially in story games, and think it would be silly to nerf midnighter/correspondent/crooked-cross downward. Instead, give the others roles, perhaps in special options in the 4/5 card lodgings.

3. With the changes to Paramount Presence and the BDR power creep Notability has been significantly de-emphasized. I'd like that changed. To me the notability grind had the best balance of difficulty to cost-benefit analysis to end reward in the game, and while overcapping removed that, I would like something to use it again to make going above 10 worthwhile more often. Recent BDR items should make going even beyond 15 possible for very lategame players.

4. In addition to more endgame content within London, I'd like more midgame content at Zee. Sunless Sea got me especially interested in Frostfound and Irem, and a roleplay point for my OC is that she'd like to quite literally punch Mt. Nomad to death. Please don't feed us to spiders, though. The ones in London cause enough sorrow.

5. I would enjoy more free spouses that are not seasonal, and more ways to interact with player spouses. Again, it's a social game, and it makes sense to reward a desire to be social with the community. On the other hand, the NPC spouses in the game are limiting in their roleplay potential to the point that I've created a character around the Esoteric Accomplice for one of my OCs to get involved with between one roleplay relationship and another. Now allow me to take a deep breath while I discuss the proposed balance pass. The short version here is that I think it's wrong to release a deck refresh nerf without a fundamental change to what cards appear in the deck, and that the nerf to docks favors and yet another nerf to revs favors is misguided.

Here's the long version: I actually support a removal of the deck refresh mechanic. I got in trouble for calling flash lay resets an exploit on a private Fallen London fan server, and refused to use it until the lab convinced me it was a mechanic intended for use by FBG.

The widespread use of deck resets isn't a problem in its own right; rather, it's a symptom of how fundamentally broken the deck is in its current state. You have cards that are so bad that the narrative acknowledges they're awful and the mechanics give you a way to get rid of them at the cost of objectively worse lodgings. You have story signpost cards that clog up space held by desired cards. It can be nearly impossible to get Portly Sommelier (before deck refreshes i was getting one a month playing 60 actions a day) and dream qualities (my PoSI-ready SMEN alt has DbW3 playing every dream card that comes around). And most lodgings have cards that are objectively bad in a way that no new player can know without reading the wiki or asking someone- the exact problem you claim a desire to address in your announcement.

It's telling that players will do SMEN- a quest chain ostensibly about how much you're willing to sacrifice to some faceless maybe-god- in order to get rid of bad lodgings. I personally only bought back salon (Notability grind), rooftop shack (3 epa wine option), and bazaar premises (5-card potential plus good certifiable scraps/money option) after Trand got St. Beau's Candle, and JanieS only ever got the bazaar premises, her Remote Lodging, and the Orphanage. Even the other 4-card lodgings are only good under specific circumstances, and the rest of the 3s have worse cards with no endgame benefit.

Tranderas and JanieS both use remote lodgings. Trand is stuck with the Advertisements of a New Venture and Devices and Desires cards in his hand. Advertisements is an Abundant-rarity card. Since I have no intention of doing railroad due to disliking its mechanics the card simply sits in my hand. If I discard it, its rarity means it pops back up quickly. I think a way to opt out of story signpost cards such as aunt and railroad would be good progress toward solving the deck problem. There could be a large action or monetary cost involved with both removing it and reactivating it to balance, but without a way to get rid of these story hooks I need to keep refreshing to draw other cards around them.

As for the favors, I consider that part of the change mostly good. However, the docks favors -> Silk expedition doesn't really compete that well with other endgame grinds at the moment. Further, the Revolutionaries favor turn-in was already reduced dramatically this year, and I don't think it needs further tweaking. Rather than tuning docks and revs down, I would prefer to see the other factions tuned upwards, and the cost of earning favors eliminated from their cards (no 10 rostygold donation to the Church, for example). I'd still like to see the faction cards remain in the deck after they're given storylet sources, but made more rare, with the conflict options getting a boost to remain attractive in line with my proposed buff to payouts as they are good for London from a flavor/narrative perspective. In closing, it feels like the current FBG's team has a vision for the game that doesn't mesh well with how I see it and want to play it. Content has consistently moved away from what I want to do, leaving me with only SMEN and cider as goals to pursue (and as mentioned, I've run two characters- Samia R and Tranderas- through the quest chain to its completion). I obviously care about the game enough to want more things I like or else I wouldn't bother writing and proofreading this post or discussing and debating changes on the community discord, so I hope you'll take these opinions and suggestions into consideration moving forward. Regards,

Tranderas

#fallen london #tranderas #writing #game #game design #browser games #failbetter games

[incarnateirony]

Sorry abt all of the hate you’ve been getting recently. Here’s a (hopefully) interesting opinion to give you a break. I understand you believe DeanCas to be canon based on text. However, in a tv show, the script doesn’t equate to canon. In the end it’s the actors/directors interpretation onscreen. It’s fun to analyze DeanCas textually, but if there’s no onscreen payoff to the decade (?) long buildup. It’s queerbait. And knowing the history of LGBT+ cinema, it would be a very cruel thing.

Okay so this is a really uh, kinda cute attempt, but still about 3 years behind on things I’ve already addressed. In fact, your own take in a lot -- and I mean a lot -- of ways is far more self defeating than you think right here.

First of all, the script is the *base* of canon. I have always said, the script isn’t the complete canon and yes, it’s a collaborative work. This is not the winning argument you think it is. However, it is the base text. The base texts depicts the canon on page before the collaborative part presses it to on screen. (In fact to show how Not New Yet Backwards this take is, I've included a post at the end about social codes where I openly address how hysterical the fandom's limited idea of text is, and that whether inside or outside of Spoken Dialogue Only eg script the argument falls on its face and surrenders itself to reveal internalized queerphobia.)

For the record, I assume you went with the “script is just script” angle because I recently nailed down all the authoritative statements and receipts, but we’ll move on to your other points.

Now while not every-single-director has ever spoken up, some have. In fact, director Phil Sgriccia was one of the first people--in so far as being on the S8 DVD commentary--talking about Dean’s biromantic potential. Dick Speight also has been openly supportive and his framework is consistent. Many others don’t engage, like wright, but wright very obviously consciously framed things as per his previous work with Jensen on Dark Angel. We could go on. We could go on about set design, we could go on about all kinds of things.

We could go on about the way this fandom has a terrible warped way of reviewing AV media, wherein they used to chase curtains or assume certain lighting meant things it didn’t, *against* what crew said in some points, and then yell about interpretation. 

In fact your very evocation of the collaborative elements make this even more absurdist even if you really did pose this in innocence: after all, when this year a soap opera reporter who doesn’t even watch the show caught the 15.03 breakup, she gave swift review of the full cinematography being the classic framework of the Dark Points in the Romance. Because you’re right. It’s collaborative text. And especially as of season 15, that collaborative text--and in AV, visuals DO count as text--is painting them in romantic methods, in ways previously not done no matter what someone’s 8 year old meta sheet told them violet light meant. In fact, if you follow the actual crew’s statements of that violet light’s meaning, and look at 15.13, and then read through what I’ve been talking about on endgame speculation and where it fell, it falls into the fated twined paths of Dean and Cas at the end of the road together. No, the violet isn’t inherently romantic. Yes, it’s part of a large story. And yes, that story is leading them down a road together which I’ll bring up at the end of this post. Letting a romance speak for itself in the midst of mytharc is a whole other thing, and actually like, how it’s supposed to go? When it’s... literally an integral part of the structure?

All of this, all of this, is fundamentally true and I have actually made dozens if not hundreds of post to show how fandom has actually been -- in their attempt to be woke, to claim queerbait or not canon, or to whatever else -- persistently deleted creative commentary, turned it into accusations, or just defied basic AV crit standards both for and against itself. 

Are we really going to start talking about actor interpretations in the year even Jensen Ackles called it a domestic dispute, and turned a Samstiel question into Dean’s taste in Cas? Or Misha and Jared’s long histories of commentary? Or the other actors on the field over the years, even Emily Swallow or Curtis? Should we go as far back as to go to the showrunner note of when to play it like a jilted lover?

None of this is a new angle that I find interesting, it was interesting a few years ago when I first shared it, but here’s where your line breaks:

Jumping from that, any of that to “if there’s no onscreen payoff” isn’t just a nonsequitor, it buries your intent.

Even I have said, it’s true! The only base definition of queerbait is to create a bunch of queer-leading content without intent to follow through! Good job on that.

But you’re missing a whole bunch here.

I’ve simply said that setting ridiculous goalposts based on personal wants is not what makes canon. I don’t care if you want a kiss or sex on the map table or a rainbow farting unicorn pony for them to ride into the horizon--those are your goalposts, and those are not the only ways, nor the only valid ways much less, to have follow through.

The lack of intent to follow through is a hilarious presupposition. And follow-through does not only transmit one way. Hets get plenty of follow throughs like, I don’t know, at the end them implicitly asking someone to dinner and that’s it, that’s their happy ending. (Detty comes to mind.)  Some hets never even kiss. Nobody gets to set that specific *goalpost* and then erase all the other canon and text. That’s queer deletion. That’s regressive. And frankly that shits on the LGBT cinema history you’re trying to reference here vaguely, to which I point you to my entire LGBTQIA+ tag where I discuss a hundred years of queer cinema history and have a nagging feeling your head would actually spin for trying to break that out as an argument. Because you’ve got that backwards.

If the authors have intent to follow through on a romantic pairing, but do not give *your specific preferred thing* for *whatever* reason (in this case, from corporate interference snaring them back, for example), that is /not/ queerbait. It’s low visibility text and it’s still canon. There is no form of mental gymnastics this becomes anything else. If they have the intent to follow through and do follow through, it’s not queerbait. 

I don’t care how you cartwheel, how you reframe it, and how you try to nurse your mental wounds having to face that, perhaps, the alt right and terfy propaganda that has infested this fandom under the veil of being woke to get kids to repeat it has, also, influenced you. It’s hard to admit mistakes. But your entire statement here doesn’t even add together, it’s random assertions you’ve assumed are new, but actually fall contrary to what you think they add up to.

If, for example as I speculate, they can’t kiss, for example, but squeeze in a love you under limited parameters only to go off as a unit into eternity together on their own path, decided together, and that’s as far as the writers were allowed to go? Sorry, they still had intent to follow through, and followed through to what limit they have. Ergo, by your own definition, not queerbait.

Also, regardless of the ending, that doesn’t remove *text*. I can’t emphasize this enough. You can be dissatisfied with the ending, you can even feel baited if it does or doesn’t go to a specific landmark you set your personal faith on, but that doesn’t make previous text elements suddenly subtext, because that isn’t how it works, and never has been. 

Regarding unlevel social codes and how many ways this fandom has shown its own ass unwittingly, confusion over what is text, subtext, and how they all fall into a canon

https://occamshipper.tumblr.com/post/190728796970/were-gonna-try-this-again-canon-is-accepted

Being regressive and deleting your own stuff isn't helpful and often varies based on preferences rather than objective observations.

[hazelenergy]

@midnight-blue-blood​ @princeofthe405​

A package arrives with no return address. If any mortal tries to open the package, it probably results in a severe paper cut. 

When the package is opened by Fina and/or the Prince, they see a small cassette tape and a note. When either touches the paper, Hazel’s handwriting becomes visible and reads:

[alt text: Hi Prince Moineau and Fina, Tommy gave me the great idea of recording my thoughts right after they happen rather than spending eternity writing it down. A warning, this has been warded against mortals, courtesy of Cass’s rampant paranoia. All the best, A very sleepy 2 year old.]

Upon playing the cassette, Hazels voice comes across a little crackly:

“Is it working?” 

“Yes it’s working, I assure you. Don’t you remember what Sol said?”

“Ugh. Have a little faith in old technology. You know what else he said?”

“What?”

“Hazel don’t mess around with that Malkavian, that seems like a terrible plan.”

“And it didn’t stop you.”

“Not much does. Now get out of my recording. This ones private, you jerk,”

The sound of Tommy’s footsteps can be heard followed by the sound of a door shutting. 

“So. I have had several dreams over the last two nights since the bond was broken. Some are replays of traumatic events and visions, such as the throne of blood once again appearing before me and me refusing to seat myself on it, getting my blood boiled, depictions of myself in Judas Iscariot paintings- things that I have grown used to seeing during daysleep or zoning out at night. 

But, I have had two new ones. The first I am still trying to piece together into a coherent story. Long story short, I keep awaking in an abandoned church trying to gather more and more information about my surroundings before red sunlight comes blaring through and shatters the stained glass above me. Each time, I get more details. So I’m recording a little, then I take a nap, then record some more, then take a nap, and this cycle repeats. Once I have put together a bit more information I will tell you about it. 

But this one I found...concerning. So its the first one you get. Its very vivid and came between two abandoned church dreams. 

I am walking aimlessly under a half-full moon in what feels like a desert. I cast no shadow wherever I walk. Sometimes I hear a crunch or a snap under my bare feet. Sometimes, I feel a sharp sting or blistering heat, but I know to not look down. I have to keep walking forward. If I look down, I will not like what I see. I know it. 

Hours pass. My feet are sore and numb, but I can feel the texture change between my toes. The sand beneath me becomes soft moss. Ahead of me are blossoms of thousands of moon flowers and lilies and gladiolus and primrose. I can hear the trickle of water from a babbling brook probably hidden among the thousands of stems. I sprint to the garden. There are no strange crunches or stings, though I still cannot shake my one law, do not look down at the ground directly beneath me. But I am so tired. My body aches. My legs burn with each step. I want to rest, but need to make sure I don’t squish any of these flowers. To find a clearing would require me to look down. I scan the valley before me, trying to see a potential spot. Each time I think I found one, I move to get close, but when I arrive, I can feel the flowers and budding stems trying to grow. Sometimes it feels like the flowers don’t want me there and push themselves out of the ground to keep me from rest. 

I’m about to give up and just return to the sands and pray nothing stings my face. That’s when a loud crack hits my ears. The sound is wood splitting and leaves rustling as a looming red wisteria tree is before me. There’s something simultaneously very unsettling and comforting about it. I fell before it and shut my eyes. I don’t feel my weight hit the ground. Something cradles me and pulls me upward, but I know I’m still facing towards the ground and keep my eyes shut tight. There’s a soft and familiar lullaby. I wish I could’ve heard more of it, but by the third note I am asleep. But even in my dreams, I don’t get great rest. 

I am awoken by something sharp pulling across my stomach. My eyes fly open to see rose thorns wrapping and choking the tree, claiming me and several flowers along with it. I yank the thorns off of me and leap upward. My blood burns inside me as I will myself to stay airborne.  Instinctively, I fly back into the entangled barbs to rip them off it. I grab three and ascend upwards, tearing them from their roots. But that was a mistake. I looked down. 

The flowers wither and fall to ash. The tree shrivels and bleeds as the thorns pull it apart, limb by limb. Within seconds, the bow of the tree is all that’s left. I rush down again. I have to do something right? But I was too slow. The rose thorns pierce through the tree creating a clean cut, revealing the hundreds of rings within. It had lived for a very long time. It's strange though, the pattern wasn’t circular. The rings almost look like the outline of a mirror and splattered blood perfectly arranged to look like cracked glass. I collide with the ground and am entangled by the thorns and pulled into the ashen soil. 

When I fall through the dirt and grime I arrive back in the abandoned church with the growing familiar dust and rubble and the feeling of being watched. Echoing like a choir across the sanctuary I hear Tommy’s voice, “well, aren’t you going to do something about it?” Then the sunlight comes blaring through, the glass shatters, and then I’m awake again.

Obviously something bad is going to happen. Yes, something bad always happens to our kind. But this has the same heavy feeling in my throat as the day I saw Mary sitting on her throne of blood and that vision alluded to her trying to usurp the Prince and mind enslave all of Atlanta. I don’t actually know if she could’ve done it. But I wasn’t going to sit idly and find out. If I still had the whispers in my head i might be able to give you something more than that. I could still brew up premonitions but I am still feeling too weak to really move around the lab too much. Please stay safe and hopefully this is just a bad dream. Know that I’ll be sending the abandoned church one soon. So expect another warded package.”

The recording ends.

#ic #hazel dreams #midnight-blue-blood #princeofthe405

[bladekindeyewear]

Freed up some time, actually!  Gonna blog the new pages of HS^2.  Liveblogging resume...

FYI, the post I glimpsed that alerted me to the fact that new pages exist had a translucent screenshot of Brain Ghost Dirk on it, so I know that at least is in store for me.  Makes sense; a way to involve Dirk’s voice obnoxiously heavily even when he’s too far away to narrate.  And ties into this... chapter(?) name, of course.  Chapters, huh?

> CHAPTER 1. Ghostflusters

God. Damnit.

Could we NOT???  No?

Fuck you, Dirk.  I blame you for this.

So we have greenery, a can-city and Sburb-legal human house mix... some sorta cow-looking thing from far away in the front yard...

The void resounds. Space seizes and warps as the bounds of relevance erode away to nothing but the wishful nostalgia of times passed. There is a hole in the middle of the universe, and it is hungry.

All very literally true.

But the denizens of this particular iteration of Earth C don’t know it. All of this is just business as fucking usual for a planet plagued by war, continuous inclement ghost weather, and the general malaise of being absolutely severed from canon.

--oh, FUCK.  This isn’t the new planet, this is Candy timeline Earth.  I didn’t wanna come back here!  :C

I guess that explains most of the content warnings.  Except fucking ALCOHOLISM.  Gee, thanks for adding THAT to the Candy timeline, as if it wasn’t fucked over enough!!!  Bluh.

I thought the closing lines of the Epilogue were that after RoboDave, Aradia and alt!Callie dove out of the Candyverse inside the singularity, the black-hole timelines and Dirk’s presumably-still-”relevant” nonsense weren’t going to collide with each other again?  So... why are we seeing this?  Is there going to be MORE influence like that, and the ending line was just fancy-talk?  Is it just an irrelevant little follow-up to Candy to show things turning out okay or pseudo-okay, like an epilogue to the epilogue?  Or is some of this Dirk nonsense presumably within the bounds of some sort of canon going to still have some last bit of influence on this so-called non-canon timeline?

That last one would make sense, given that it echoes how Homestuck^2′s dubious canonicity would still have definite influence on fanworks outside of canon.  Right?

Let me pull that last line from the epilogues again--

...where’s the Epilogues’ log, this is getting kind of hard to find with all their reorganization... fuck, I had to guess at the URL even.  Here we go, the last page of Meat...

The hole leaves behind an absence in the sky so calm that continuing to call it a sky wouldn’t seem to do it justice. It’s a perfectly neutral expanse into which anything one can imagine might be summoned. And for a while, anything was. But not anymore. Where the hole gaped just moments ago, there now exists an imaginary line.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

...Right.  This implies that Canon and Non-Canon shall never meet again.  BOTH ways.  Doesn’t quite gel with the fact that we’re cutting back here--

Oh.

This is about Jake and Brain Ghost Dirk isn’t it.  I noticed his name down further on the page.  THAT’S why we’re cutting back here.

So, Canon and Non-Canon aren’t exactly meeting... not for anything relevant, anyway.  But we’re using Candy Jake’s visibility of Brain Ghost Dirk to get a better idea of Dirk’s broader self and plans through a splinter of him?  While getting another glimpse into how the post-epilogue Candy timeline is going for our, er... “curiosity”?  Is that it?

Hm.  I guess that doesn’t count as the twain “meeting”... I’ll just keep reading now.

They spend their days absorbed in the petty and pointless pursuits of “having jobs” and “raising families” and “falling in love”.

Is this Dirk’s narrator voice?  This sounds like something the current megalomaniacal Dirk would say.

I’m not going to quote the rest of the text’s further reminders of how Jane has been made into an absolutely fucked-over asshole in every timeline except the one where she grew old to open a Joke shop, adopt Dad, die, get prototyped and timeline-doubled, then mysteriously disappear from any mention in the Epilogues as if the Sprites were just forgotten about completely eventually.

> (==>)

Oooh, using the less-relevance-surrounding-parens that were used on retconned ghost!Vriska back in Homestuck proper to denote our presence in the non-canon Candy timeline? How handy!

Not a far-away cow, then.

John has been an incredible pal, opening up his home to Jake and his son on such short notice, and even offering him a pair of pants, as well as a shirt that he has so far neglected to put on.

Alright, that got a chuckle from me.

John’s house doesn’t have air conditioning.

What the flying fuck.

...Ah, John’s been away patching things up with Roxy some more, I presume.

It, like the rest of his assets, is in her name. She’d seen to that as soon as they were married.

Life players and assets, huh?  Always gotta be hoggin’ em.

He hasn’t seen much of Tavros today either, but that’s not unusual. He’s probably out with his kismesis, the one he thinks Jake doesn’t know about.

Huh.  Maybe Candy’s young Vriska?  Couldn’t get the real Tavros with your main self, so your alternate nigh-clone self settled with a human by the same name?  Or one of the other kids we heard of from this ‘verse..?

> (==>)

Jake’s hot man-bod cropped out of this image to avoid titillating my readers too much.

(Tumblr keeps jumping back to the top of my post after I add images and I keep thinking the title reads “Ghostfuckers”.)

Jake washes the dirt out from under his fingernails, and his eyes fall on the bottle still sitting on the counter. John had opened it, but together they’d barely touched the stuff. Jake had promised him and Tavvy he’d dry up his act and all, but... well.

God damnit.  If this is still Dirk-voiced narration -- I’m not sure it can be, now I think about it, as he’s supposed to be “out of range” or something, unless non-canon is just malleable like that, which wouldnt be surprising (or Dirk’s splinter’s presence allows it) -- he could literally be inducing or writing in Jake’s drinking problem just to hurt him more.  You can’t really put an overstep that assholish past Prince Dirk the way he’s gotten to be.

There was another ask in my inbox insisting that Dirk wasn’t going to stay the true villain here, if only as some sort of karmic revenge for declaring his self-importance... but I still don’t think that’s the case.  For one, Dirk HASN’T declared himself the villain... he still can’t see how fucked-up and unjustified his trampling over of everyone’s wills IS.  Shadows of recognition... but not really.  He really honestly believes he has the fucking RIGHT to do what he’s doing.

(Which is, incidentally -- to answer another ask -- why there’s basically NO chance that Rose has some sort of control or recognition of her situation under the surface, and is playing Dirk, as another person hopefully surmised.  No.  She really IS being unknowingly steered away from personal growth and recognition of the thought-control she’s under... because nothing less could feel as horrible to us.)

Part of the entire POINT of Homestuck and its Riddle was to show that these crazy kids, if they put their wills to it, always had the potential to be the literal Gods of the world around them.  That when ordinary people grasp the will and drive to shape the world around them, they can turn everything back from the brink of destruction... or vice versa.  Thus, it’s only appropriate that a player from this game could become a villain more disgusting than any we’d imagined in the series so far.  What he’s been doing -- writing twisted sorrow directly into the lives and experiences of those around him, nurturing their worst, most power-hungry tendencies (Rose) and deceiving them more directly than Doc Scratch (who was PART Dirk) ever did, making a JOKE of their free will in a more terribly direct way than ANY have been shown onscreen to do?? It IS, and is MEANT to be, the worst we have EVER seen in Homestuck.  Not as clumsy and from-the-outside as Lord English, but just as blatantly direct.  Not as easy to ignore or mistake as Doc Scratch’s horrible, intentional Prince-of-Hearty worsening of the players, instead just as impossible to gloss-over as it is to bear witness to.  That very TITLE, “Prince of Heart”, can embody the very ANTITHESIS of the Ultimate Riddle itself, robbing EVERYONE of their ability to shape not just the world around them, but even so much as themselves or their very thoughts.  When used the way Dirk is using it RIGHT NOW, anyway.  And his ambition is to impose this on all of Paradox Space.

There COULD be another villain, later.  But I can’t imagine a single one more appropriate.  And Andrew’s just the type to use one of the Striders, both practically self-inserts of parts of his personality and presence, as that ultimate villain to be overcome in a story about escaping Canon, too.

Turning his ex into an alcoholic just for his own self-satisfaction?  In a side timeline where Jake didn’t even try a relationship with him again and finally had a chance to grow up happy in SOME universe?  I wouldn’t put it past him, and you shouldn’t either.

Moving on.

> (==>)

Eugh.  I just... don’t want to think about him being an alcoholic on TOP of everything else.  As if there wasn’t enough to deal with in Candy already.

> (==>)

Hm?

> (==>)

The jungle air is heavy, humid, and familiar. Twenty years on and the thick drag into his lungs settles on him in a blanket of nostalgia, reassuring in its discomfort.

Hm.  Is this his fantasy, or a view of him in another timeline?

He is deeper in the jungle than he’d ever venture in his waking hours. There were places on his island that not even his Gran would tread, and she’d been the bravest person he’d ever known.

Hmm.  So he even knows it’s a dream, but is still in control...

Jake doesn’t recognize anything. The jungle of his dreams is wild and unknown, and there are things moving in the dense undergrowth.

...Hhhuh.  Still not sure what to think of this yet.

A sudden wind thrashes the canopy. There are pine needles in his mouth. There aren’t any pine needles in the jungle.

Very Dream, then.

> (==>)

--Yup.

> (==>)

Yoink--

> (==>)

JAKE: Yes you are i know that much. I saw your body! I carried your coffin chock full of all those stupid fucking swords! DIRK: Nope. JAKE: Dont nope me mister!

They would pile all those shitty swords into his coffin, yeah.

Anyway, now to see how much Prince Dirk is in this Dirk.  And if he’s in one mind with himself or has the slightest chance of feeling rebellious.

JAKE: I know a dead dirk when i see one! DIRK: Sure you do. But that wasn’t me. Are you really surprised to find out I got a couple of spares? JAKE: So what youre saying is you arent my dirk. DIRK: ...That is a whole ‘nother conversation that we really don’t have time for, pertaining to exactly who or what ‘your dirk’ actually constitutes. DIRK: Do you mean the Dirk from your timeline? DIRK: Then yes, that Dirk is dead. DIRK: If you mean the Dirk that you fucked and then ghosted, no, I’m not your Dirk. DIRK: If you mean the Dirk that you felt closest to, that you really knew--

...well, this Dirk still knows how to be a presumptuous, pushy creep.  :(

JAKE: Ahhh! Brain ghost dirk! DIRK: In the ghosty flesh. JAKE: Crumbs bro where have you been? JAKE: I could have used someone on my side! JAKE: You just disappeared one day without even the odd toodaloo to mark your passing! DIRK: That isn’t strictly true. I did disappear, but it was in a catastrophic blaze of hope-drenched pathos. I even threw out a couple one-liners. DIRK: But you wouldn’t remember that. JAKE: Because...it was a different dirk? DIRK: No, a different Jake.

Hhhuh.  So in the claymation-reproduced Lord English stagefight -- or, maybe more likely, the pre-retcon Aranea-induced Game Over timeline -- he was too washed out by hopesplosions to manifest properly?

DIRK: Until recently there’s been a shortage of ambient narrative relevance for Dirks, since one particular motherfucker has been sucking it all up like a thirsty little twink at his first interspecies rave.

Hm!  So Prince Dirk has been making it so other splinters of himself have really limited ability to influence, huh?  Guess that’s a sort of price for the narrative-hijacking power he’s attained.  Wonder how this Dirk really feels about that.

> (==>)

--Pff.  He’s certainly not shy about letting Jake know he shouldn’t trust him, though!  That’s a good sign.

I’ll split the post here for a bit.  Seems we’re about halfway through this upd8 from the look of the log.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots