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ripleycano · 1 year

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The Illusion of Living: Sammy Lawrence Archive

Long time no see, BATIM friends! In light of BATDR releasing soon, I’ve decided to buy The Illusion of Living and compile all the information we have about our favorite music director. I’ll also include information from sources other than TIOL for a more holistic aggregate of knowledge :)

Full post under cut!

Appearance

Let’s start with mentions of physical features and attire. We already knew from the Hot Topic takeover that he had a ‘flowing cascade’ of brown or blonde hair:

TIOL adds onto this in Joey’s description of Jack Fain and Sammy Lawrence at the evening party:

“Though I suppose his (Sammy’s) hair could have been slicked back a bit more, not quite so long and floppy on the top as it was. As it still is.”

It looks to be the case that his hair was indeed on the longer side, and it remained that way during his time at the studio. (Personally, I’m a big fan of the idea of his having messy, unkempt hair that’s a little long for the standard of his era.)

DCTL describes Sammy as looking like a bird or insect, TIOL does the same:

“Sammy stepped toward me out of the dark. His angular face was highlighted now from the lights of the party, throwing sharp shadows that only made him look more insect-like.”

In addition to this, TIOL confirms my assumptions that Sammy is both younger than Joey and looks permanently exhausted:

“He was a couple years younger than me but seemed like a fellow who had lived several lifetimes already.”

Keep in mind Joey thinks this on the eve of his thirtieth birthday, meaning Sammy was likely somewhere in his twenties when he started working at the studio.

We already know suspenders were part of his closet, but what else? TIOL portrays Sammy in stark contrast to his musical partner, Jack Fain. This is seen not only in their personalities, but also in their attire.

“The man (Jack Fain) tipped his bowler in our direction. I understood now why he was still wearing it even indoors. His whole outfit was a kind of costume in a way. He wasn’t in a tux or a dinner jacket either. Instead he was in dark gray wool trousers with red suspenders, a white button-up shirt beneath an orange vest and brown bow tie. He fit the description of “a character” to a tee. Sammy Lawrence on the other hand was in a neat simple black evening suit and looked totally appropriate for an opening night party.”

Looks like Jack prefers to dress in bright, flashy clothes, while Sammy’s style of choice is plain, smart, and occasion-appropriate. Unfortunately for him, he is eventually fated to wear only ink-soaked suspenders for the remainder of his life :,)

Past

With TIOL, we finally have some insight into Sammy’s life before the studio! Joey mentions he had already seen Sammy prior to their meeting at Chapter 6′s opening night party.

"I hadn’t realized right away when I met him properly on the eve of my thirtieth birthday that I’d seen him before. Only in that first conversation was it revealed he’d worked for the Grand Cinema as a teenager. I remembered him then easily. I’d been so impressed by the quality of the music that I’d hardly noticed the film.”

Sammy had already been working in the film industry before taking up Joey’s job offer-- looks like his job was to play live music scores to accompany film visuals.

“The music he (Sammy) made felt effortless but what was just as striking was his focus. The way he stared at the screen before him, watching the film as keenly as any of us in the audience.”

"It was an incredible show and I remember the audience applauding at the end of the film, which didn’t happen all the time.”

Not only was Sammy skilled at his job, but it looks like he had a deep predilection for cinema. I wonder how things would’ve turned out for him if he’d continued his path in the film industry.

Personality (oh boy)

Pre-ink

All the information prior to TIOL (audio tapes, DCTL, etc.) point to Sammy being adherent to a specific archetype: the tortured artist. He’s artistic, sensitive, and immensely talented-- however, he’s also irritable and blunt. (“I just hope nobody tells Sammy. Because if he finds out I lost my keys again, I’m out of here!”)

Luckily, TIOL adds more nuance to his characterization! Before becoming affected by the living ink of the studio, it seems that Sammy was fairly quiet and very much introverted.

“’Sammy!’ called out one of the supporting actors in a low baritone. The man at the piano shook his head. He seemed annoyed. I thought it was funny, I didn’t realize that it wasn’t an act. That Sammy was not a fan of attention and definitely didn’t like putting on a show like this.”

When conversing with Joey, he speaks in a curt, brief manner, never bothering with hollow pleasantries. He’s not one to sugarcoat his questions, consequently offending one very ego-driven Mr. Joey Drew. (He only gets away with it since Joey is so enamored with the idea of hiring him, but we’ll expand on that later.)

“”I’d like to talk to you two,” I said, smiling as warmly as I could. I wanted them to know I was a friend. But of course Sammy just stared back at me. “About what?” he asked curtly.”

“Sammy reluctantly nodded. I had no idea then why he was making such a fuss, honestly still don’t know to this day what makes him a grouch, but if being a grouch means beautiful music, I have no problem with that, I’ll tell you.”

““Joey Drew, owner of Joey Drew Studios,” I replied. “And what’s a Joey Drew Studios?” asked Sammy, lighting a cigarette from the darkness by the stone wall at the edge of the terrace. Yes, he said it in that dismissive tone. I didn’t understand why he needed to talk to me like that. I didn’t respect it. I was starting to doubt my own judgment. Did I really want to offer the opportunity of a lifetime to someone so extreme in their indifference?” (Side note: “What’s a Joey Drew Studios” absolutely knocked me out. Joey being incredibly offended about it didn’t help.)

““That was me, I remember you now. You are quite the talent,” I replied. “I know,” he said.”

Being a man of (very) few words, it seems that Sammy doesn’t express his thoughts much, either. Oftentimes, he’ll simply drift off in the middle of a conversation to ponder something with no additional context given. (Essentially, he just throws things out there and expect people to understand exactly where he’s coming from)

““Joey Drew Studios,” he said again, mulling it over. “So like film?” I nodded. “Sure, like that,” I replied. ... “You like movies,” he said, nodding back. Was he imitating me now? “I do.””

““Can we watch a movie?” asked Sammy. “A movie?” Sammy always had and still does have a way of surprising you with what he’ll say or do next."

What Sammy doesn’t say with words, he conveys with the occasional bemused facial expression. Joey finds this especially fascinating, often scrutinizing him closely in an attempt to figure him out. I imagine he treats it as some kind of game.

“Jack was duly impressed, Sammy was unreadable. Typical Sammy.”

““Why do I know you?” he asked then. He was looking at me carefully now. Not in the same suspicious manner. He was truly trying to figure out the answer to his question.”

“Jack on the other hand seemed to love it. “You can feel the creativity!” he said. Sammy said nothing, of course."

“Jack looked at Sammy, then back at me with an expression of “I have no idea what he’s thinking.”"

In fact, Joey has an incredibly unhealthy obsession with trying to read Sammy which begot this... fascinating passage:

“He (Sammy) leaned back on both elbows on the stone wall. Beneath him Fifth Avenue roared and certain death would come to anyone who toppled over the edge down onto it. The man definitely had confidence in that wall. I had a sudden urge to give him a shove. Not push him over, but just to see his reaction. This might sound strange, but I needed to see a human moment from him, I needed to see the man he was hiding from me.”

A mysterious guy for sure.

As if his lack of willingness to verbally communicate wasn’t difficult enough, Sammy is shown to be very, very stubborn and demanding. (Artists, am I right?)

When asked to work for Joey, he first demands that he receives a tour around the studio. Before Joey can even start to schedule a date, Sammy pulls a Sammy:

““How do I know it’s real?” Sammy asked. “Oh it’s real,” I replied. Sammy stepped toward me out of the dark ... “Show me.” I nodded. “Of course, let’s schedule a tour for some time this week,” I said. ... “No,” he said, inching toward me. “Now.” “Now?” “Now.”” (Now I know for one that Joey’s heart DEFINITELY skipped a beat there)

Upon visiting the studio, Sammy kindly (?!) gives his unsolicited input on a group of characters he’s never seen before:

““Do you have other characters?” asked Sammy, not turning around. “A wolf,” I replied. “Boris,” I added. “Good name!” said Jack, turning in his seat and grinning at me. “You need a girl,” said Sammy.” (No maidens???)

Thanks, buddy.

Finally, Joey manages to win him over, to which newly hired Sammy Lawrence responds:

“Finally Sammy spoke again. “I want full creative control over my department. I want to hire my own people. And if the money isn’t good, I’m not signing the contract.” ... “Ol’ Sammy, a man who knows his own mind,” said Jack with a laugh."

It’s a very bold move to speak to your boss like this, but I fully support it. It’s no secret that Sammy is very talented and fully aware of this fact-- I’m very glad he knows his worth :) (Although signing that contract did lead to him becoming a cultist stuck in a time loop)

Post-Ink (I’ll likely touch on his post-ink self and descent into insanity on another post once I find my copy of DCTL!)

That’s all I have the energy for now, but there is one more thing I’d like to touch on: Norman.

Unfortunately, there is no mention (that I know of) of Norman in TIOL. Perhaps this is because he was hired later on, partly thanks to our very own Sammy Lawrence :)

“Sammy looked around the room. “I’ll need a projector,” he said. “A projector?” I asked. He nodded. “To play with the movie.” Of course, I realized then. Of course. That was what he did best, improvise as the movie played. “Yes! A projector booth, of course, that will be our top priority.” I added it to the mental list I’d started months ago.”

Looks like Sammy was indirectly responsible for the projection booth in the music department! I love the unexpected eye for detail he has when it comes to the video side of the production process. His enthusiasm shows in his insistence on watching the films he plays to, which I find very sweet.

I’ll probably follow this up with posts about Sammy’s in-studio relationships and one focused on his post-ink ‘prophet’ self. Thanks for sticking around for so long!

As for my final thoughts on Sammy, Joey says it best: “I’d never trade Sammy Lawrence for anything.”

#sammy lawrence #bendy and the ink machine #batim #bendy and the dark revival #batdr #joey drew #jack fain #norman polk #text #the illusion of living #tiol

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lestatslestits · 5 months

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Day 2 of TOTA Takeover, dedicated to Francine Boyle, who I find to be one of the most fascinating characters in the show.

Warning: this ficlet contains discussions of self-harm, an injury that appears to be self-inflicted (but isn’t), and mentions of alcoholism.

With all of that said, it’s somehow happier than my Rosalie ficlet.

Eddie finds her before she can clean the blood up. That’s the last thing Francine wants. He’s gone off on an errand and she has less time than anticipated to bandage the wound on her arm before he returns, so the first thing he sees upon opening the door to their shared flat is her crouched on the floor, dripping red.

“Jesus, Francine!” He lets the shopping fall from his grip and only just remembers to close the door behind him before he runs to her, practically crashing to his knees by her side. She expects the hand that grabs her wrist to do so roughly, but he’s gentle with her as he cradles it.

“It was just the cat,” she says, rocking back a bit. “Just the cat, just the cat, just the cat…” she repeats the words until they become a keening chant in time with her rocking.

It had been an accident. She needs him to understand and believe that. She had scared the poor creature and it had scratched a gash in her arm, long but shallow. It’s not as bad as it looks, and she needs him to realize that it wasn’t self-inflicted. He’s just started thinking it’s alright to leave her alone to go to the shops, and he’ll go mad with guilt if he thinks something has happened while he’s been away. Then maybe he’ll drink and that will be Francine’s fault, and they’ll fall together back into the nigh-inescapable spiral they’ve only just dragged themselves out of bit by bit.

Eddie bends his neck down to examine her arm. She doesn’t breathe until he recognizes the wound as a definite cat scratch and sits back on his heels with a sigh of relief. “Right,” he says, his eyes slipping closed. He lets her arm fall gently to her side and envelops her in a hug, even as she tells him his clothes will get stained. “Aye, let them,” he tells her.

Once his breath has evened out he tells her that he needs to get her bandaged up. She would prefer to do the task herself: she’s been handled by enough impatient nurses and aides with rough hands that she instinctively shies away from being patched up by others. But Eddie is gentle, if a little clumsy, and patient even when the wound is long enough to require multiple carefully arranged plasters.

“I scared Irn-Bru,” she says, watching him distantly as he works, “He’ll be angry with me.”

Irn-Bru is their cat, an occasionally skittish former stray which Francine had coaxed into trusting her after many long hours and even more tins of food. Campbell Bain, on one of his frequent visits, had started calling him that on account of his extremely orange coloration, and it had stuck. Francine liked it, Eddie pretended to hate it but didn’t.

“He’ll forgive you, no fear,” Eddie says. He applies the last plaster and then heaves himself up off the floor with a groan. Francine allows herself to be pulled up after him. He ghosts a kiss over her knuckles, then interrupts the moment by swearing and dashing off to put away the frozen goods he’s left sweltering by the door.

Francine watches him and then goes to open a tin of food to draw the cat out of hiding with. He will find his way out soon, she knows. He’s an easily spooked thing that has to be handled with care—and sometimes even that isn’t enough. But he knows, deep down, that he’s safe and loved here. And that’s mostly all any creature needs, she thinks.

#takin over the asylum #tota takeover #francine boyle #eddie mckenna #tota #takin’ over the asylum #tota fanfic

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willkatfanfromasia · 10 months

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Hey guys! This is my collab with the awesome @nspwriteups - modern, corporate AU! KunxVT

Sudden Sparks✨✨

It was just another day at the Chola corp. household.

They were a successful family run MNC with interests in a wide range of sectors like agriculture, industries, hospitality etc

Kriti's dad Sundar, the CEO, was feeling his age of late and really looked forward to that retirement mansion in the Seychelles-and she agrees. Her mom Vani was the perfect chaebol wife, keeping up social connections and coordinating the multiple companies.

Kriti and her dad’s best friend Anirudh – the chief legal advisor- have been running the show for the last few years.

She was truly appa’s pride, surpassing him in all aspects. It grieved him greatly that his great-grandfather, the founder, had willed the ownership only to sons in order of age.

Her hothead big bro Aditya made their dad age rapidly, as he was a mess through his teens and 20s- oscillating between therapy and overdrinking. His stubbornly insisted on marrying a regular girl Nandini- who oddly resembled his own ex. Huh! Like father like son

Girls like that just won’t fit in our circle, they all thought. Kriti and her great aunt Seema all disapproved and tried to bribe her away. But the young couple stood firm even through separation. Sundar gently explained his doubts to his son, who cockily returned with a DNA test proving his concern false.

Aditya became the chief of mergers and acquisitions, knowing a good takeover when he sees one. Nandini proved to be just as capable as herself (although she’d never say it aloud), smartly planning the legal aspects of her husband’s activities. Nothing gave the couple more joy than sleuthing and negotiating hard bargains, even with the most hostile businesspeople.

However, it is her darling boy Arun who is the all time favourite. Everyone from the janitor to the executive board loves him.

He started off as a cute intern, now he’s their PR face. Journalists flock to just see him smile. He’s been seeing Vinita, the junior at R&D in an office romance that’s the company’s worst kept secret. She rolled her eyes at her fastidious little brother. He was first very stiff with Vinita, the niece of their South zone president, because everyone wanted to get the two heirs together. He slowly fell for her, but tried very hard to hide it – much to kriti’s amusement. The longer than necessary waiting by the coffee machine, the abnormally frequent dropping of papers ( only for the other to come running for ‘help’) fooled no one, she chucked.

She laid back in the plush orange recliner in her living room. Her apartment was well decorated although she lived alone. Her brother and Anni lived in the floor above with their daughter, Kriti jr. Yes Kriti’s ego was greatly flattered by her namesake niece and she became nicer to her sister in law due to it.

Her brother lived in a cottage next door, with a large courtyard and her parents lived in a mansion next door to their company HQ

They had their usual Friday night entertainments. All except Kriti. She’d have occasional movie nights with Vinita and her other mates, poojas with seema paati and family birthday dinners.

She was happy to be the hustler for her family. She loved being swept by complex problems and solving them. She took pride in being their ‘brains’, not once regretting her cold demeanor or workaholic attitude.

Lately though, seeing her brothers' relationships left a pang in her stomach. Cousin Sandeep too was seeing Pooja, their coordinator for offshore branches.

Kriti blankly stared at the ceiling she’d seen a million times before. Smooth peach walls, a bronze ceiling fan and wall moulding on all sides. Her laptop glared, asking her to get back to work before the Monday noon deadline. Uncle Anirudh won’t like me slacking, she sighed and sat up. The IT girl of Chola corp can’t disappoint!

She began reading through the document sent by the budget team, noting where to edit or add comments. It was pretty linear, except this time some reps of their rival was out scouting start ups and releasing bad predictions for Chola’s next quarterly.

Enthusiastic footsteps and tinkling of metal made kriti exhale and go “gosh! Again?’.

Friday nights usually meant the same for her, her older brother and nandini would usual drop off her niece as they went off on their mandatory dates. There’s no way those 2 randy creatures have been together for 2 decades now, she groaned.

Kriti was soft, everyone knew most of her

evenings were spent working and she had a huge weakness for her niece.

She would often play sitter for Kriti jr. and Timmy (Arun and vinita's dog). She was just grateful Arun didn't make her babysit Airavat, the rescue elephant he adopted!

This time though, work was getting tight. She had to sort out Chola corp 's finances while also figuring who was spreading bad predictions for their stock.

Her train of thoughts was disrupted by the doorbell ringing. She knew who the visitors were and put on the best fake smile she could when she opened the door to see her brother and sister in law with a five year old girl in Nandini's arms. "I was hoping you forgot about your Friday routine" She said in mock annoyance. "Well actually I did ask my best friend to babysit Kriti jr here since I know how much of a busybody you are" Adithya told her, pinching his daughter's cheek as he spoke while Kriti frowned. A best friend of Adithya's that she hasn't met yet? Now that's odd. "We asked him to come here so you can have an extra hand to take care of her" Nandini joined in, kissing her daughter's forehead and handing her over to Kriti who was still wondering about this mysterious "friend" who is apparently a familiar face to everyone but one she hasn't heard about at all.

"He can be trusted Kriti. Why else would I entrust the safety of my beloved sister and daughter to him?" Adithya said after seeing a look of uncertainty on Kriti's face.

After Adithya and Nandini left them, Kriti turned to her niece sitting on the couch, "So my dear sugarplum, what will we do now?" Kriti jr ran to the showcase and took out board game from the drawer. They played the game for a while, watched Tom and Jerry on the tv. Kriti looked over at the clock. It's been half an hour since she started babysitting. Where was this so called trusted friend who was supposed to give them company? She contemplated on calling up Adithya and give him a piece of her mind but then she didn't wanted to interrupt theie date night. "Best friend…Trusted indeed" She muttered "He's going to ghost me for sure"

"Ugh! Why can't I stick to one decision? Now I'll have to host a stranger" she inwardly groaned

Kriti jr looked up at her aunt "Why are you angry Aunty?" She squeaked

"How do you know I am angry?" Kriti enquired

"Because Amma says you murmur when you are upset. So I know you are angry" the little girl said as a matter of fact. Kriti laughed, how well Nandini knows her.

"I am not angry Kanne, I'm just irritated" Kriti sighed, glancing at the clock again. He looked at her niece again when she felt a tug on her kurti. "I am hungry" Kriti jr said with puppy eyes.

"Okay, let's go have dinner" Both girls made their way to the kitchen and was deciding whether to make dinner or order out when the doorbell rang again. "Yay, Kamsa Mama is here!" Saying this Kriti jr sped out of the kitchen, leaving behind a perplexed Kriti behind.

Kamsa who?

The glee in the child's eyes made her irrationally jealous

She heard her niece calling out "It's open, Mama. Come, come" and went to investigate, stopping midway to see a young man twirling her niece, laughing with her. The guy was tall, looked the same age as her and was casually dressed in denim jeans and sweatshirt. She only had a few seconds to admire his curly hair and sparkling eyes before those same eyes met with hers. He set down Kriti jr, looking at her with curiosity and suddenly Kriti felt consious of how she was looking - Not expecting him to show up, she was dressed in an old kurti with three-fourth leggings and her hair in a bun, with a few strands already escaping here and there. My God! What a first impression I am giving this guy. She thought. But then again, why am I stressing on how I look? Not like he's here to flirt with me.

The newly arrived person, walked over to her and extended his hand, still smiling wholeheartedly "So you must be this little mischief queen's godmother. Adi and Nandu can't stop talking about you" He said "Hi, I'm Vaishakh "

"Hi, I'm Kriti"

"Do you know the word Kriti means creation, a work of art?" He asked suddenly

"Yes" Kriti replied, wondering where this was going

"Art is beauty. So I don't think I have to tell you how beautiful you are, Miss Kriti" He said with a grin .

Kriti is no stranger to compliments but she would be lying if she said that pickup line wasn't good. Either he was buttering her up for coming in late or he was a natural flirt.

"Thank you" She said, not letting him give the impression that he had won her over "And if I'm not wrong, people with the name Vaishakh has a good and nice disposition"

He grinned wider "So you like giving out compliments as well. Good for you. We are going to get along just fine" He winked at her and walked towards the kitchen, with a gleeful Kriti jr following him.

Kriti let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in "This is going to be a long night" She wondered as she shut the door.

Anni- sister in law

@nashibirne @nspwriteups @vibishalakshman @thelekhikawrites @dr-scribbler @kovaipaavai @budugu @dosai-maavu @matka-kulfi @curiousgalacticsoul @harinishivaa @chiyaanvikram @celestesinsight @inveter @deepti1011 @itszhunotz @babayagahunt @thegleamingmoon @maisadalawa @ragkee @inlovewithfictionalbeings @happysharkdragon @gowrimenonop-1 @ramcharanobsessed @nature-writes29 @voidsteffy @whippersnappersbookworm @hollogramhallucination @thereader-radhika @sowlspace @rang-lo @nirmohi-premika @love-ps1ff @canonless5

#ponniyin selvan #ponniyin selvan fanfiction #kundhavai #kundavai x Vanthiyadevan #Kundhavai x Vanthiyadevan #nandhini #aditha karikalan #nandini x aditha #vanmozhi #arunmozhi varman #vanathi #Vallavarayan Vanthiyadevan #vanthiyadevan

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heniareth · 6 months

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ZevWarden Week 2023

Day 3: Fear and Safety

The Flight from Vigil's Keep

Wordcount: 3,440 | Rating: Teen and Up

In the middle of the night, Vigil's Keep is attacked. Zevran and Astala grab their children and flee.

WARNING FOR:

Children in danger (they don't come to harm, but they are in danger. The children are teenagers, 4-year.olds, and a baby)

Explosions

Fire

Fleeing from your home

Canon-typical violence

The attack is racially motivated, but this can be inferred and is not explicitly mentioned or discussed

(Read down below or here on AO3)

Zevran woke suddenly. It took him a moment to orient himself—a moment longer than he would have liked. Something was not right. One heartbeat, and the something not right became apparent.

Smoke.

Fire.

The smell was a mere whiff, but it was not where it should be. That alone made him leave the big, spatious, warm bed and Astala's side. She didn't stirr when he approached the window.

There. The orange glow of fire, inside the inner walls of Vigil's Keep. He opened the window. The smell of smoke grew stronger. Faintly, shouting reached his ear.

It was the unmistakable screaming and clashing of battle.

Zevran hadn't been party to many violent takeovers of a noble's property, but he had seen enough. He didn't bother closing the window. He hurried to Astala, and shook her awake.

"Amore!"

A grunt was his only answer.

"Amore," Zevran whispered, hurriedly. "Please. We need to leave."

Finally, his wife opened her eyes, blinking blearily.

"Whashappenin-?"

"We need to leave," Zevran repeated. He fished his belt with two of his daggers from the foot of the bed and wound it around his waist. "The Keep is under attack."

Astala sat up and looked at him, wide-eyed. "W-what?"

A loud bang, far too close by.

"Amore mio, please." Zevran took her hand. She allowed him to pull her out of bed. "We must be quick. We need to get the children and leave."

"The chil- Oh, Maker." A shudder ran through Astala, and suddenly she snapped into action. "We have to go!"

Zevran was right on her heels.

Eidela started crying when Zevran lifted her into Astala's arms. Her voice echoed through the empty hallway as they hurried to the rooms the rest of the children occupied, until Astala managed to shush her. It sent a sharp spike through Zevran's blood nonetheless. Barely an infant, and far too young to have to flee an invasion.

A low growl greeted them when they opened the door to their children's rooms. It took the old mabari a moment, but Rascal immediately backed down and started wagging his tail when he recognized them. Astala rushed in. Zevran looked around. The younger ones were fast asleep. The older ones, alertness sharpened by the streets of Antiva and the Crows, respectively, had already quietly started suiting up.

Virel and Carlo had pulled on their dark leathers. Perinella was nowhere to be seen. Virel was grim and decided, far from his usual sullen teenage mood. Carlo nervously played around with the pommel of his dagger.

Zevran gave them an approving nod. "Bravi."

Carlo smiled, unsure.

"Help your mother with your siblings," Zevran continued, addressing Carlo. "Get them out of bed and into warm clothes. Keep them close. You will be alright, I promise."

Carlo nodded. With a kiss to the forehead, Zevran let him go, and turned to his oldest.

"Open the passage," he said. "Where is Perinella?"

"Getting potions," Virel said. "She took Brigand."

"Very good. Get her first," Zevran instructed. "I will join you shortly."

Virel wanted to bolt off, but found time to roll his eyes when Zevran held him back and kissed his forehead as well.

"Andaos con cuidado, ¿eh?"

"Sí, padre," Virel muttered. Then he left as well.

Zevran turned and found the twins awake and scrambling out of their beds, eyes big and frightened like Carlo's as he helped them into their boots and coats. No protests came from either if them.

Eidela was crying again, and wouldn't let Astala tie her to her chest. Zevran held the fabric Astala was struggling with in place.

"Maybe I should carry her."

"No," Astala said. "We need you. I can't fight."

"I hope it will not come to fighting," Zevran replied.

"Still." Astala turned her head as he stepped behind her and tied the sling keeping Eidela in place. "Not taking chances."

Zevran glanced at her, at their four youngest, thought of Virel and Perinella out in the hallways with nothing but a dog to watch over them.

"I am yours," was the only answer that came to him.

After a quick stop at their own quarters to suit up, they joined Virel and Perinella up the hallway. Health potions were distributed. Astolfo and Rinona were instructed to hold Astala's hand and not let go. Zevran took Perinella with him to the front of the group, to light their way. Virel closed their march. Quietly, they descended the old servants' passageway.

Their walk was careful. Tense.

"I wish I knew where the Wardens are," Astala said at one point.

"Fighting, most likely," Zevran answered, then smiled wrily to himself. "This invasion is a slight their commander will not forgive lightly, I think."

He caught the beginning of Astala's chuckle when an explosion detonated somewhere far too close by. The whole stairway trembled. Zevran pulled Perinella closer to himself and back towards Astala. Brigand let out a whine of alarm. The explosion ran like thunder through the stairway and then it was silent.

Zevran looked back at his family to find them all unharmed, albeit shaken.

"One of Dvorkin's, probably," Astala said, and ran her free hand over Astolfo's hair.

"I suppose it is good to know that he is up and about," Zevran answered, trying to lighten the situation while fear coiled around his belly like a snake.

A scoff, and then Astala started: "Not if... well."

She didn't finish the sentence, but Zevran knew what she had wanted to say.

The staircase ended in a long, narrow hallway leading straight to the kitchen. The fighting was loud here. Screams, the clash of metal, explosions and the roar of flames filled the narrow corridor, muffled by the thick wall of stone. Zevran picked Astolfo up, Astala carried Rinona on her back. And then they ran. Astolfo was scared. He clung to him with all the strength the arms of a 4-year-old could have and hid his face in the crook of Zevran's neck. Zevran held him tight. Behind him, amidst the ring of battle, he caught snippets of Astala trying to keep Rinona calm. The light at the top of Perinella's staff bathed everything in cold, flickering light.

A torch, a person! Zevran brought them all to a halt as Perinella's barrier flared to life. Brigand and Rascal barked and growled.

"Who goes there?" Astala's sharp voice cut through the din of battle.

"Arlessa!"

The voice belonged to old Gemet, who had been working at the Vigil from before Astala had replaced arl Rendon Howe. Zevran nonetheless set Astolfo down and quietly unsheathed his daggers. Next to him, Perinella stood, tensely waiting.

"They sent me out to find you," Gemet called over the ring of battle, and then they all flinched and cowered as another explosion shook the walls of the narrow corridor. Eidela was screaming now, and Zevran felt Astolfo's hands balled into the fabric of his trousers.

"We cannot stay here," Zevran called out. "Gemet, move back. We will follow."

"Right away!"

The torch and the dark silhouette of Gemet made their way back down the corridor again.

The corridor led to the kitchens, which in turn led to the servants’ quarters. A good fraction of their fellow elves, all occupying different service positions until now, jumped to their feet. The relief flooding the room upon seeing the Hero of Ferelden was palpable. Astala stood a little straighter and stepped forward.

“They are in the Great Hall,” one of these scared people informed her.

“They will come down here any moment,” another said.

From above, a great crash was heard. Astala turned only briefly.

“Carry your small children and make for the outer service door,” she said. “We will ferry people down a few at a time.”

Another crash, and shouting.

“They’re breaking in!” a young girl screamed.

“Keep calm!” Astala commanded. “Move, towards the service door.”

Zevran handed Astolfo to Virel. The little boy clung to his older brother. Zevran held four of the elves back; they were strong, showed less fear than the rest of the people, and were unmarried.

“Stay behind with me,” he asked. “We will build some traps to greet them with.”

Astala stopped, and turned around. For the first time this night, fear crept over his Warden's face.

"You're not gonna stay here alone!" she called, disbelieving.

"Not alone!" Zevran gestured at the four other elves. He knew perfectly well Astala would regard them as insufficient help, and rightfully so, but...

"You can't stay!" Astala walked up to him with long steps, and Rinona had to run to keep pace with her. "Zevran! Those people-"

"I will be alright," Zevran tried.

"They will kill you!" Fear gave way to panic, gave way to wild determination. "I'm not leaving you alone!"

"Amore." Zevran reached out and held the hand with which she was holding Rinona. "Please. There is no time. Keep them safe; I-"

"I will stay."

Virel stood next to Astala.

"No!" Astala cried.

"Go with your brother," Zevran said. "Keep him safe. That is all I ask of you."

"But I-"

"No!"

Zevran immediately regretted his outburst. Virel flinched backwards. The noise was getting closer. They had no time. Zevran turned to Astala again. Her hand trembled; her eyes were wide. Mutely, she shook her head.

"I will do everything I can to return to you," Zevran said and cupped her cheek. "Go, my Warden.

"Please-" Astala whispered.

A loud bang. Screams. Eidela cried.

Astala stepped back. She, too, was crying.

"I love you," Zevran said.

Astala's answer was drowned out by another explosion that shook the walls. Then she turned and hurried down the hallway with their children as fast as her old injury would allow. Already, she was heavily favoring her right leg. She would be in a great deal of pain tomorrow. If she made it out alive.

Virel was leading Astolfo again, and didn't look back. It was Rinona who turned.

"Papa?"

"He needs a moment," he heard Astala say. "He'll be right behind us, just you see."

Then they disappeared around the corner. And Zevran, Crow that he was in his heart of hearts, closed his heart and his ears to the increasingly panicked calls of his daughter.

They grabbed what food they could easily carry. They ripped open a sack of flour so that the air turned dusty white, dumped oil over the floor, set a pot with hot coals over one door and a washbasin full of knives over another.

Voices approached, steps and the clanking of armor. While his four helpers ran for the exit, Zevran stayed by the third and last door and waited, a fire grenade in hand. Something heavy banged against the door. The wood splintered. Then it burst. Zevran stepped into the room. Men, humans with armor and weapons bloodied, poured into the kitchen, bloodlust in their voices. Zevran blew a kiss onto the glass vial that held the grenade and threw it into the kitchen, into their midst, turned and ran. The flour caught fire. The room exploded. The blast sent Zevran stumbling briefly, and then he ran. Screams, heat and a sense of burning satisfaction accompanied him as he rejoined his fellow trap-layers. They barricaded the door and hurried to join the larger group.

They did not take the path that was used to ferry goods up the steep incline that led up to the Keep. Instead, they made through the dark and gnarly forest with its dense undergrowth that covered the rest of the landscape. They hurried through, leaves and branches catching on their clothing. Zevran, in his comparatively tougher leather, led the way.

They found their people halfway to the river, gathered at the edge of a small clearing. A few figures rushed to put themselves between the group and them as they approached, but stood down as soon as they called out to them. There was a commotion at the back of the group. Zevran stepped out of the forest, only to have Rinona crash into him at full speed. Astolfo joined soon afterwards. Rinona was crying, big ugly tears. Astolfo wouldn't let him go. Zevran let them and hugged them tightly in return.

A weight fell onto his shoulders: Carlo. Somebody told him to move, to not squash Zevran, to give him some space: Virel. Somebody stepped behind Carlo when he didn't leave: Perinella. Zevran told them to let the boy be, even if his knees and thighs were starting to strain under the combined weight.

A shadow fell over him, a hand fell to his shoulder, and by touch alone he recognized his Warden. Astala said nothing. Zevran hugged Astolfo and Rinona with one arm and held Astala's hand.

They made their way to the river Hafter and along it, this small refugee group of theirs. Laseth, one of the head servants, who had spent some time with a Dalish clan before she had decided that their life was not for her, led them through the dark. It was a cold night. The heavy cloud cover allowed for almost no light, but thankfully kept the rain it carried to itself. Beside the quiet din of conversations and steps, there was no sound to be heard. The burning Vigil’s Keep grew smaller and smaller, until it vanished into the darkness.

Zevran was carrying Rinona. When his daughter shivered, he wrapped the edge of his cloak around her. Carlo walked next to him, occasionally bumping into him when he misstepped. Perinella was in front of them; she had offered to carry Astolfo on her back. Virel was behind them, silent. Astala walked next to him, Eidela on her back now, and heavily limping.

Her children and these people were still looking to her for guidance.

Zevran saw how tired she was.

They were all exhausted.

He approached Laseth with the suggestion to make camp as soon as they reached a patch of land with a sufficiently big grove of trees. Laseth selected an appropriate spot and set them to work. They built four tent-shaped shelters covered with leaves and ferns to ward against the worst of the chill. What clothes they had on their bodies and the shared body warmth would have to do the rest. There would be no fire. They were still too close to the keep. Zevran and his fellow trap-layers distributed what food they had managed to take with them. Then everybody went to sleep.

Neither Eidela nor Rinona woke up when they were set down; a small blessing. Astolfo fell asleep shortly afterwards, curled up in Zevran’s lap. Virel, Perinella and Carlo did not lie down right away. They sat close to them; grim faces, wide eyes, but unharmed. Alive.

For a while, nobody said anything.

“I’m sorry." Astala quietly broke the silence. “I’m so sorry. This was never supposed to happen. I didn’t want you to have to fight ever again.”

Perinella raised an eyebrow. “But we did not fight. You sent us away.”

“We never wanted you to be in a fight again, then,” Zevran suggested.

Astala nodded. “I’m so sorry. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Virel and Perinella exchanged glances. Carlo looked like he wanted to say something, but then he just curled up on Astala’s free side, mirroring Astolfo, and went to sleep.

Silence fell back over their group again.

This time, it was Virel who broke it; he was looking at Zevran when he did so. “Why did you not want me to fight?”

Ah. Zevran should’ve known. The Crows’ talons didn't let go easily.

He glanced at Astala.

“Because parents keep their children safe whenever they can," Astala answered in his state. “They care for them, and do not want them to be hurt. Fighting is a very easy way to get hurt.”

“But you train us to fight,” Virel answered, still looking at Zevran. “Why?”

“Because,” Zevran answered this time, choosing his words wisely, “we want you to be able to defend yourselves once you are adults, or if neither your mother nor I are there. Not being able to fight is also a very good way to get hurt.”

For a while, Virel stared off into the darkness. Perinella followed the conversation in silence, with big, serious eyes.

“I am grown,” Virel then said. “Old enough to have been a Crow for years.”

“Yes,” Zevran agreed. “And this is why Crow masters do not make good parents.”

Virel smiled at that, and Zevran did too in a quick, rare moment of shared understanding. Perinella leaned against Astala's free side.

“I want you to know that what your mother said is true,” Zevran continued. “If we could, we would make it so that you never had to fight and never got hurt.”

Virel looked up at him.

“Alas, it is impossible,” Zevran said lightly. “So we do the next best thing: arm you with a blade and knowledge and step between you and any enemies whenever we can, ah?”

Virel smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Of course, this is not to say that I do not try my very best to return safely,” Zevran continued. “My Warden would never forgive me if I died—"

"True," Astala said quietly.

"—and even if I am a terrible spoilsport who will not let you fight, I hope I-”

He didn’t get further. Virel bumped his shoulder into him, lightly, in a move that surprised Zevran. He was ready to laugh and tentatively push back. But there were confounded emotions darkening his son’s face once more as he leaned away from him again. Zevran stayed still.

“Virel,” Astala said again, gently. “What is it?”

It took Virel some time to speak. Finally, without looking at Zevran, he strung the words together.

“If you had not returned?”

Zevran’s heart lurched slightly within his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Astala tense.

“It would not have been what I wanted at all,” Zevran began, slowly. “I would have… I would have been very sorry to leave you behind. I would have wanted it to be different, although knowing you safe would have been a comfort. We make choices. We do not know how they will turn out. We try our best and take risks. You would have done the same for Perinella.” Virel nodded quietly.

“Then you know why I did not want you to be there,” Zevran continued. “Your help would have been very welcome, and your readiness to jump into danger speaks to your courage. But that risk was not one I wanted you to take. I apologize if I have overstepped. But I wanted you safe.”

For a while, Virel said nothing. The silence stretched on for so long that Zevran was beginning to fear he might have said entirely the wrong thing, and that Virel was now angry. He waited. And waited.

Finally, Virel moved. Slowly, unexpectedly, carefully, as if testing the waters, he leaned into him, wrapped his arms around him and rested his head against his shoulder. Zevran hesitated for one moment, then carefully hugged him back.

They broke their little round up, set Astolfo next to Rinona. Virel and Perinella preferred to sleep to one side. Astala advised them to keep close enough to catch at least some body warmth and tried to get them to accept her cloak. They refused, arguing that they had their own. Astala had to let it be in the end.

As Zevran lay down next to her, she turned to him and pulled him close.

“Thank you,” she whispered quietly into his leather. “Thank you for keeping us safe.”

"You were not pleased," Zevran said.

Astala snorted. "Of course not."

Zevran nodded. Of course she was not pleased.

"I hate it," Astala said quietly. "I hate it so much. I was so scared."

"I am sorry," Zevran said.

Astala leaned back to look him in the eyes. "Don't do that again."

"Amore-"

"I know that- that you had to." She was trying so hard to keep her voice in check, Zevran knew. "I don't care. Don't do that again. Think of Virel. He needs you, Zevran, they all need you. Don't leave them."

The words stung. Zevran savored it.

"And you, my Warden?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I need you," Astala said. And then her voice finally broke. "Please, don't go. Please!"

"I am not planning to," Zevran said, with perhaps a little more edge than he intended.

"I know." Astala wiped her eyes. "I know, I know. I'm being unfair. I'm sorry."

Zevran sighed and kissed her forehead. “I could not bear to lose you, my Warden. You know that.”

“I do,” she nodded. “Thank you for making it back in one piece.”

“I am yours,” he answered. And, teasing, he added, “Yours entirely. How could I deprive you of even one part of me? Imagine me without hair.”

Astala let out an undignified snort and muffled her laugh against his chest. The laugh ended in a sniffle. Zevran held her close.

"How is your hip?"

"Bad," Astala said. "I will manage."

"I will help, if you will let me," Zevran said.

"Thank you."

Astala nuzzled closer and sighed against his skin. Her breath slowly evened out. Her weight grew heavier. Zevran closed his eyes, breathed deeply and thanked the Maker for keeping them safe and whole.

These two are a seasoned battle couple, but separate them and hoooooooooooo the anxiety skyrockets.

It's not clear who attacked the Keep (which means I haven't figured it out yet). Maybe she'll never know. Fact is, the crown doesn't do anything much, and she goes to Antiva with the whole family and settles down there for a peaceful live. Until the qunari arrive (looks at DA4 with suspicion)

I hope you enjoyed this one, and thank you to @zevraholics for organizing this event!!

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lumenflowered · 4 months

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Hello. My name is Maria—nothing more, nothing less. I am a Faller hailing from a place known as Yharnam, though I am currently in the Johto region. It is a less harsh place than what I am used to; I would not recommend requesting further information regarding Yharnam unless you are mentally prepared.

Out of a lack of anything better to do after falling here, I embarked upon the Gym Challenge. At the time of writing this, I bear seven of the eight Johtonian badges, and intend to attain the eighth as soon as I have recovered enough to travel.

As of less than a week ago, I have been Chosen as a champion of sorts by Ho-oh, a Pokémon with power tantamount to the gods of my former world. While I still have rather complicated feelings regarding the matter, the gods of this world are considerably kinder than those I am used to, and doing this allowed me to put an end to Team Rocket's machinations once and for all.

My team is as follows: Rakuyo (Meganium, X) Hunter (Furret, F) Molotov (Arcanine, M) Adeline (Gengar, F) Evelyn (Seadra, F) Eileen (Honchkrow, F)

Adeline, my Gengar, rather likes to steal my device and make posts for herself—she is considerably better with this world's technology than I, so I have no qualms with this—and her commentary can be found in purple.

Though this has thus far only occurred once twice thrice, Ho-oh has utilized this platform and blog to communicate directly with me and others before, and they have done so in bold orange text. They have recently adopted another name in addition to their first: Solaire.

A very angry child named Silver, who inexplicably decided to form a rather one-sided rivalry with a grown woman, is unlikely to be on the blog again given how much the anonymous masses of Rotomblr set back my progress in having a reasonable conversation with him. However, while he was posting here, he used blue.

I am more than happy to discuss a great many things. Do keep in mind that I hail from a far deadlier place than this one, should you care to ask about my past prior to Johto.

...I still would rather like to know why and how I am here at all.

(OOC info under cut.)

Sup, it's still @ofstormsandfire getting perhaps a little too invested in my silly little blog where I throw a Bloodborne boss into the world of pokemon. I really wanted to make a faller blog of some kind, and promised myself that I could if I survived Nanowrimo, and... then I did. And went well, alright, Lady Maria's going to have a great time in Johto!

(That was sarcasm. Though honestly even a terrible time in Johto is an improvement over what she's used to.)

Do keep in mind that Maria is in fact a Bloodborne boss and as such will be unfazed by things that would disturb the vast majority of characters. I'll happily tag things as necessary, just ask if I've missed something you would like tagged.

Here's some navigational tags for y'all. If/when I actually reach the conclusion of this blog's story maybe I'll make more.

#firebird arc: I smashed together the Radio Tower plot and the Ho-oh plot, made the Kimono Girls more relevant, and also ramped up the stakes a little. Called that because Ho-oh is a firebird and also I'm 90% sure there's a kind of rocket called the Firebird. I like puns. I also put way too much effort into this and I regret nothing.

#the vampire allegations: A couple of people made jokes about Maria being a vampire. Admittedly, she is from Cainhurst which is the closest Bloodborne gets to proper vampires, and I thought it would be really funny to have her be allergic to garlic for legitimately mundane reasons.

#rainbow wings: That time Ho-oh showed up on the blog specifically to tell Maria to take a break. Same tag is used whenever Ho-oh turns up. (It's been like three times now.)

#what's with this sassy lost child?: The Silver takeover. For some reason the last couple posts just aren't showing up in the tag despite being tagged with exactly the same thing, but he got Pelipper Mailed bad memories of his dad and promptly dipped.

#hints to the future: Bits of prose foreshadowing things to come, because I got really into that one ask game with the gears.

#ooc: making this my new pinned post woo!#pokeblogging #pokeblogging intro #pokemon irl #rotomblr #pokeblog rp

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what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me · 1 year

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Please ramble away about MK and the waddle dees!!

the joke au where MK is legally a waddle dee :0 I need to know more about it!!

This is the Dedede 64 crochet attempter anon btw who had to stop their work because of college hell

So Waddle Dees are simple creatures.

A common, but major misconception is they are uniform to the point where deviation is not tolerated. Variations are on the rarer side, but not unheard of. Sometimes Waddle Dees are not orange, but instead red, brown, yellow, and in rare cases almost green or purple. These variations do not matter in the social structure of a Waddle Dee herd. Additionally, some Dees are known to become masters in a dedicated subject, changing their name and appearance to reflect this. These changes also do not matter; they are still Waddle Dees to any other Dee.

The essentials are as follows: Waddle Dees are all are small, round, no mouth, two eyes, and a face lighter than their bodies.

The important thing to note is this:

When wearing his mask, Meta Knight meets all the qualifications for Waddle Dees to consider him as another Dee.

Nobody has seen Meta Knight Without his mask.

When Meta Knight came to Dreamland, the first person he met was not the King, not Kirby, but a small patrol of Waddle Dees who had seen his small starship crash.

Inside was a strange Dee, one with weapons and armor forged in stardust, one with wings meant to soar on solar winds, but also one who was bleeding and one who needed help. The alien features this Waddle Dee had were not given a second glance once the patrolling group had decided this knight was one of their own.

Recovery had become tricky once the Waddle Dee herd had discovered Knight Dee did not speak Wanya. However through persuasive shows of kindness, and by Wise Waddle Dee giving basic language lessons, Knight Dee had accepted the hospitality. This was when Meta Knight truly began to become part of the family.

Previously, he had lived a mostly solitary life, devoid of kindness or comfort. The universe has been razed over by dark matter, nightmares, and other nameless wars; Popstar is an oasis. Being taken in by aliens who saved his life and still were kind when he tried to reject help struck a chord in him. Meta Knight would learn how to repay the kindness every one of these creatures had shown him.

Through the years, although Meta Knight was far more solitary than his companions, he had learned their names, even bonded with many. His closest companions are two Dees by the name of Sailor and Bandana, although he deeply appreciates them all. Meta will take time away from his travels of the universe to visit the Waddle Dee herd, helping or celebrating or giving them gifts.

The Knight eventually catches on that the Waddle Dees have always considered him another one of their species, and when he tried to come clean and correct them all, they still called him one of their family. Needless to say, Meta Knight is extremely fond of each and every Waddle Dee.

Years later, when a new king comes into power and employs the Waddle Dees into his help, King Dedede is sifting through registration records of all the Waddle Dees. Seeing a name marked down in as Knight Waddle Dee piques his curiosity—he really does need a knight for his new court. He summons this knight and is confused when he sees who answers. Why is this “Meta” guy marked down as a Waddle Dee? When King Dedede brings it up, offering the correct the paperwork, it’s met with denial from not only the Knight, but every other Dee in the room as well.

Realizing his mistake, The King apologizes and doesn’t bring it up again. Meta Knight won’t admit it out loud, but that had been the first straw which eventually lead to him attempting a takeover. He had become so used to unquestionably being considered a Waddle Dee, having that questioned made him furious.

Meta Knight’s familial attachment to the Dees is also why he is so serious about his role as a guardian in Forgotten Land. He blames himself deeply for failing to protect them initially and refused to rest until every one had been rescued. They all had a big cuddle pile and he also had to talk to Therapist Waddle Dee after that incident.

#Knight Waddle Dee AU #this is my joke au and I’m SO attached to it #Meta Knight has been adopted by every Waddle Dee and he’s honored by it #Welcome back crochet anon good luck with college hell :)#sent to snappy #asks #Kirby #meta knight #waddle dees #come back for part two: Galacta Knight being adopted by the waddle Dees #I should turn this into a fic #but for now I will ramble in asks

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dark-elf-writes · 1 year

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Naruto and Lee stage a takeover of the orphanage and kick all the care takers out like the trash they are. For the next week they do renovations with the help of a fuck ton of shadow clones and Youth. In the end, the orphanage is a green and orange mansion with a garden on the roof.

But the time anyone realizes what’s happening it’s already too late and there’s several Jonin on their side acting as grandparents/crazy aunts and uncles. Some more enthusiastically than others.

#the elf talks #Naruto #guy is screaming from the rooftops how much he loves each of his grand children by name #kakashi looks like he just needs a damn nap #ohana au

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part-time-zombie · 5 months

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I just had a dream last night about the orange sides appearance!

I think he overtook or corrupted/possessed logan to some degree, with enough changes to give him his own uniques look. He wasn't wearing glasses, and he swapped out logans classic black/dark blue jeans with bright, traffic cone style orange pants which should have been gaudy but for some reason worked on him. Logans black shirt was still there but the logo was gone and the tie was undone if not discarded. I think he was wearing some flashy makeup or brightly colored hair, along with some edgy accessories that gave him a punkish vibe

I don't remember exactly what he was doing or why he was there, but he was certainly a threatening presence among the sides. He acted like a borderline unhinged version of remus and janus combined, with remus's violent unpredictability and janus's sarcastic snark all wrapped up into one very pissed off side.

What really got me was that he wasn't explosive or loud about his anger in anyway. It was still obvious that he was angry but he carried it with a seething form of controlled spite, almost cocky about it in a way. This wasn't an out-of-control explosion, this was a determined takeover designed to force them to listen, one way or another. This was about cold, calculated Revenge.

All I remember of the dream was him forcibly tying down the other sides (and maybe thomas himself!?) and making sure they heard exactly what he was going to say. (this quickly switched to a blooper of Thomas filming this scene, with him cracking up because he couldn't stay in character lol)

The most telling thing, despite how it was hardly mentioned, is in some way I knew his name was Grudge.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #orange side #dream #am i onto something?#or am i just insane #sasi #ts sides #what do you think?

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rattytaffy · 5 months

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So i came up with another DCA AU.

In short before the virus hit the pizza plex FazCo got bought out in a hostile corporate takeover.

The pizza plex is shut down and demolished (for killer robot in the basement reasons)

The glamrocks along with a recovered and repaired Bonnie continue doing the same music they always have there brand staying largely the same thought hey are moved from the plex to being an actual touring band

DJMM is sent out to DJ for clubs

Our dear sweet Daycare Attendant however is split into three bodies. one for Sun one for Moon and one for Eclipse. The new bodies are designed to be not only incredibly good looking but optimized to play music. There new boss seeing an opportunity has them learn music like humans rather then programing them then has them write there own songs with a fair bit of creative freedom as long as they can fit the bill of the Emo revival band there boss dictates.

However there new boss did not expect them to be good at this, there new boss did not expect them to have fun with this. They did not expect songs from the heart about how these pore robots have had there heart broken again and again.

And now there new boss has a hell of a band to manage and they are raking in the dough.

On the other side Sun Moon and Eclipse are suddenly granted not just a lot of creative freedom but a lot of freedom in general with the expectation of acting like any normal music stars.

The focus of the story would be on the DCA and probably will not have a Y/N.

focusing instead on how they change as people. When instead of being trapped and monitored and constantly told what to at risk of being tazed or scraped, they are given not only a lot more freedom but also privilege as they get more popular as a band.

Also the band name "Cry me the Stars" in very emo fashion as they where being put together as an emo revival band.

They are built on the same base moddle being largely human in the frame and face but there faces are a bit rounder and they all still have that iconic split down the middle though now they do have noses. they have claws on there fingers but they are guitar pick shaped and fully retractable. They stand about 6'7''

Sun is yellow in color pallet with orange star shaped freckles here and there on his arms and face. blue eyes and a set of interchangeable silicon rays he can move much like before. Singing voice: Alto with a fair bit of range into soprano Instruments: Electric & Acoustic guitar, later to branch out into brass instruments such as trumpet and saxophone Personality shift: eager to please, anxious, and fun loving -> cocky, demanding, party boy, knows for the most part he is in charge.

Moon is blue in color with silver ascents. Freckles are silver and star shaped only a few on the face. eyes are still red. Has ultra thin LED rope as hair that goes down past his shoulders. he can control the light and color and how they turn off and on. Singing Voice: tenner to alto Instruments: Electric Bass later branching out into string instruments such as cello and violin. Personality shift: not talkative, enjoys scarring people, actually a rather soft guy -> Out going, gets calmer, focuses in hard on the music.

Eclipse gets a mix of both designs with both the hair at a shorter length (to the shoulder) and rays (only 4) divided in half with a fade between blue and yellow and lots of star shaped freckles that are orange or silver based on if they are on the yellow or blue side. singing voice: Alto with some range into tenner and soprano Instruments: Drums, Synth, guys going to later go crazy with mixing software. Personality shift: mostly running off base daycare programing so extra sweet and joyful -> Total fucking diva

I'm going to try to write this as a fic i need something less combat oriented then Old Habits Die Hard.

I think im going to name the fic after there band Cry me the Stars.

But for the AU im thinking of just calling it ether "My Chemical Robot" or "Celestial Emo Bois"

If anyone has like emo song recs for feeding this fic please put them in the reblogs!!

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #dca fandom #dca au

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dogydayz · 1 year

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A small...Sorta fanfic? Based on some of the Twitter Takeover answers from Shadow that really stuck out to me, so I decided to make ANOTHER AU for the Paradox AU PrismSpaces (the Paradox AU is just my excuse to make many Sonic AUs and somehow connect them via the Paradox Prism headcanon of mine lmao) No real angst, no shipping, just mostly written ambiance and practicing writing Shadow on his own! . . . . .

-The Thrift Shop- . . . . .

It was located in one of the downtown outskirts of Station Square, a small thrift store whose doors almost never seem to open, and the many knick-knacks inside never seem to be touched. Atop the front of the homely shop was a sign with old lettering that read "Marianna's Thrift Store", with small decorations scattered about the sides and on some of the windows. The last two "n"s and "a" were all painted over with black paint, making the leftover name "Maria" now have a large, splotchy black space between it and the "'s". The owner had wanted to cover up that last bit, hoping that the smaller amount of syllables would maybe make the name catch more attention... However, it's a tad bit hard for that to work with a messy dark blotch on the sign now.

Yet... Somehow... That simple change DID matter, to one individual at least...

The owner sat in her chair at the cash register, scrolling through videos on her phone with one hand while she pet the soft, pale fur of her beloved kitty, Mello. His fur was both orange and white, with tabby stripes on the orange parts, and his bright yellow eyes, what got him his name, peered around the shop at seemingly nothing. As cats tend to do.

She was wearing an old band tee under a jean jacket, a bunch of pins clipped onto the front of it with some random paint splatters on it here and there from years in high school art class, now way in the past, and yet the jacket still somehow fit her. She brushed her light brown hair from her face every now and then, and Mello batted at one of her pale blonde highlights as if it were a string, which caused the woman to laugh and playfully swat back at him.

She'd been struggling a bit, the past few days, as no one had stopped by recently and she was starting to run low on money to pay for the building's rent. She sighed as Mello laid back down on the desk, and she began to grumble a bit, wondering if she should perhaps advertise online a bit more... And just then, the front doors opened up, and Mello hopped up from where he'd been laying to race over to the one who stepped through the door. With a bright meow, he pressed his body against the familiar figure's big shoes and lower legs, purring with joy to see the regular once more after they'd been gone for so long.

The owner looked over in surprise, before her eyes lit up and were met with that odd, yet not at all cold, crimson stare. "It's you again! Where- Oh!- Sorry, that's not really any of my business, heh.... Though Mello was getting worried about you!" she giggled a little, and the dark, yet much shorter figure couldn't help but cast a small smile her way, then down at the cat at his feet. He slowly knelt down, pulling his hood back before petting the friendly kitty as he readjusted his quills. Damn hoods... They're great for that "mysterious" look but are they truly worth messing fur up for?

"Hey there, Mello," his voice was far more gentle and warm than most would expect from a guy who looks like him, though to be fair, he really has never been the overly loud or aggressive type.

The cat purred against his touch, arching his back up against the gloved hand before suddenly leaping up and climbing up the hedgehog's sweatshirt and nestling into the now-open hood of it. Ah, yes, the wonderful claws of a feline. This is exactly why he wears thick sweatshirts when visiting this place, because he's gotta satisfy the hoodie-cat's needs.

"I... Don't mind the ask. A... 'Friend' of mine had... Gotten himself into a bit of trouble again, and it... Took much longer to handle than originally planned. That, and I... Admittedly lost track of... The days..." he sighed, feeling both guilty and quite like a fool.

"Hey, don't fret! It's alright! I know you're uh... Much more than a silly human like me, hah, you've got other more important things to be doing," the owner shrugged. The hedgehog turned his head to look over at her, mindful of his quills and the cat in his hood as he did so, before standing back up and turning to face her.

"I... Consider my visits here to be quite important, though," he sighed, shaking his head slowly. She eyed him, raising a brow.

"...You... Really look distraught over what's... Such a simple thing, I assure you," she tried to reassure him, noticing just how upset he looked, even if his voice didn't show it.

"How have you been doing? You've... Been alright yes?-" he blurted out with sudden great concern, reaching behind himself to pet Mello's head. Mello proceeded to bat at his fingers playfully.

"You know-"

"Answer me first-" he rushed, before closing his eyes, "...S..Sorry, sorry..."

"Hey, it's alright... Shadow, yes? I'm uh... Remembering your name right yeah?" she waited for a nod from him before continuing, "Again, it's alright, I'm just... Curious, really.... Why in the world are you so....?" She began to make vague gestures with her hands, not quite sure how to word it in a way that didn't sound weird or rude.

"I... I just...." he took a deep breath, before letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, "...Here, walk with me while I look at things, alright?" He asked this as more of an offer, rather than a command.

"O-O...kay? Sure," oh, now she's interested! She'd always sensed there was... Something strange about that hedgehog. His odd silence the first few times he'd come into the store, how he'd just suddenly entered on a whim that first time she'd seen him there, how he was... So incredibly generous to her, when he seemingly had no reason to be...

"It's... Going to be a long one, and... A strange one. I need you to promise that you'll believe me when I talk about these things, these parts of my life, parts of... Myself. Alright?" he gave her one final chance to back down if she wished... Yet, to his surprise...

"I promise, Shadow," she nodded in understanding, getting ready to listen to whatever story it was that he had to tell.

Yet, nothing could prepare her for what she was about to learn.

Shadow picked up a small, wooden figurine and looked over it, using the details of the odd figure to distract himself as he would begin to speak.

"It has been around... What, 8 years or so? Since... I... Well... I had been awoken from a 50 year long slumber," he started, going over the basics of the timeframe in which things had occurred in his life, pausing to allow the gal to process the information, before continuing once more. "I'll spare the details of that debacle, for now... And, 50 years before then, I had been locked in suspended animation, in a sort of coma... And, furthermore, around 2 years prior to then.... I was created."

The shop owner looked a tad dumbfounded, absolutely bewildered... Though the first thing she could manage to get out was, "How old even are you??????-" Man, she was.... Very confused.

"Physically? I was... designed as a 'mature' specimen from the get-go, so I don't really 'age' in those regards. Mentally? I'd estimate around 23, that's what I tell people anyway. It's been 8 years since I was awoken, and before then I was kind of... Designed to be mentally like that of a 13 year old... So the added 2 years would have made me around... 15 when I'd awoken.... And 8 years later? 23. Basic math, in those regards. I did not age while in mental stasis... I mostly just.... Didn't feel much at all... But I believe I... Still did dream... Not of anything good, though," his expression had seemed to grow a lot less tense while giving that explanation, as though something about that detail of his life were actually interesting to him. "With that answered, though, I should... I'll.... I'll save you the nitty gritty. I was designed to be... Like a hero to earth, and also a hero to the grand-daughter of the scientist who created me... I... Suppose I could just... Call him 'father', here."

He gripped the figure, starting to realize just how tense he was getting again. He'd... Rather not explain every damn facet of his life... "Chaos damn it... Basically... His... His grand-daughter. She was my best friend. Like a sister... and.....a..and.... GAH!!-" he tossed the figure aside in a sudden release of pent-up stress. He froze, looking over at the figure on the floor, all the while the owner stared at him with a mix of confusion and care. "........Her... Her name was.... YOUR name... Maria. And she's gone. And...." he said in a quieter tone as he walked over to pick the figure back up, tracing the details of it with his thumbs. The figure was in the shape of some sort of angel, he realized... Abstract in form, yet more obvious once you realize the intentions.

"You... Think about her a lot, I... presume?..." the shop owner, this Maria, spoke in a much softer tone, trying to pull her new friend's mind away from the past.

"....Yeah... Even if it's... Stupid. It's been so long, 8 damn years since I'd awoken and was reminded of my true purpose... And yet... She still... Lingers in my thoughts..." he gave a hushed sigh, "... And I think it's because she was... Far more than my stories ever make her out to be. I always tell of how she tried to save me, my promise to her, how she...." There was brief silence. "....Yet... I fail to ever properly explain who she'd been before that. What she'd done for me, how we'd become like... Family... Everyone only gets the parts where she did the tragic, heroic thing... But never the parts where she was just a girl... Just a kid like me, back then... How we'd had hopes and dreams amongst the stars together, how we'd planned our future out to become space explorers, how be agreed to one day get to step foot on Earth once more with no fear from her illness.... I always.... Would miss that part, back then. Because the trauma was always so damn much at the time... Because I couldn't bear to think of what we'd planned to have been..."

"At the end of it all... She merely wanted to help people.... And at the end of HER.... She wanted ME to help people...." he gave a somber, defeated sort of chuckle. "So... When I'd... Seen the sign here, I'd.... Begun to feel as if my feet were no longer my own. I drifted closer, felt drawn to this place... Because of such silly memories that I've attached to nothing more than a name. A word."

The Maria standing there near him just... Stared at him...

"Is... That part of your whole... Generosity thing toward me? Because.... My nickname is the same as your friend's?" she asked, not wishing to sound at all disappointed or anything, just truly curious.

Shadow simply nodded, his expression seeming to be one of slight guilt.

"That's.... Incredibly sweet of you, yknow that?"

He looked up at her, his eyes a bit wider, seeming to sparkle a bit with the tears he'd been holding back. "...Really?...."

"Yeah! You're a wonderful person... I want you to know that. You care so much, you don't try to forget what's important to you, even if it causes you pain. You don't give up, and that's.... An admirable trait. To let yourself follow your heart, to honor someone you cared deeply for... That's...That's amazing, Shadow," she gave him a warm smile, "...Y'know, I bet your Maria would be proud of you... For not hiding away, for not ignoring those feelings of yours. From what you've said about her... She seems like she's the type to be quite happy with where you are now... Though of course I didn't know her myse-" she was cut off by a sudden, instinctive whimper cry from Shadow.

The Ultimate Lifeform stood there, gripping the wooden angel figure in his hands, trying to keep himself from crying and yet... They escaped still, in the sounds of pathetic whimpers and whines, before he attempted to cover his face and wipe his eyes.

"...I... Like to.... Think that too...." he managed to choke out, before going quiet in an attempt to compose himself. Mello, still chilling around his neck, purred and rubbed his fluffy cheek against the hedgehog's, making him let out a sudden snicker and a snort through the tears dripping from his eyes.

After a little bit of emotional recollection, Shadow would finally be able to take full breaths, finally beginning to speak.

"...Thank you.... M... Mari?... I..."

"Is... It.... a bit of a struggle to say that name?"

Shadow sighed and huffed, slowly returning to his more usual demeanor already.

"That's okay y'know... Why not.... Anna?"

"Anna..." he repeated, before nodding, "...Anna works..."

He suddenly seemed to have locked onto some new task, looking around rather than at his new friend. She tilted her head and raised a brow, but apart from that she let him do his thing now.

Around 45 minutes later, Shadow returned to the counter with quite a few things. Old worn-out shirts and sweatshirts, the wooden angel figure, some old fidget-type toys, with one being one of those "rings interlocked that can be separated" ones, old mason jars, and various other strange and random things that he'd simply found intrigueing. He laid it all out on the counter, then began counting out his own cash for payment. It's... A bit annoying having to use human money, but if it works it works.

Anna helped pack it all up in a way that wouldn't be too much of a hassle to carry, despite how much shit there was, while Mello took the moment to hop down from Shadow's shoulder and onto the counter once more.

With his money counted out and handed over (and a bit extra snuck in as well), he began to pick up the bags of things to hold onto.

"I'll... Be seeing you. Next time I think I may invite my... friends... to check the place out," he waved, giving Anna a small smile as he put his hood back up.

"You too! Stay safe, bud, k?"

"'Course," his smirk grew a bit wider, "And you too," he added, before pushing open the door and heading out of the shop.

Once gone, Anna let out a soft sigh, then looked down at the cat butting her hand for pets. Mello simply looked back up at her, then let out a little meow.

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peripateticavian · 1 year

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Introductory Post:

This is Birdy, i have a few side blogs and four cats.

Lore:

I am from an alt-right evangelical fundamentalist Christian family in SOCAL. I went "Nope," moved out just before my 19th birthday and lived in the Northwest and the Southeast until I was old enough and financially established enough (disabled and on benefits with online income) to move back in time to escape the alt-right legal takeover back east without the potential for my autonomy to be stripped. I am currently working on my worldview and absorbing as much and many information, languages, art, and ideas as I can. My long-term goal is to maintain food forests with my partner. I have four cats.

Interests: alcohol, dreaming, biology, chemistry, homestuck, hannibal, welcome home, SCP, star trek, good omens, the twilight zone, art, aesthetics, baking, being baked, cooking, composting, cleaning, drawing, foraging, gardening, knitting, people-watching, painting, hallucinating, metal, rock, indie pop, recollecting, listening to the news, shittalking the bbc, social media, podcasts, learning, hanging out with cats, stick collecting, cuddling cats, cuddling trees

Favorite color palette: sand, lilac, periwinkle, dark umber, ash, deep blue, indigo, seafoam green, seaglass green, green, grass green, jade, obsidian black, gold, silver, rose gold, deep blue-grey, olive green, redwood, cerulean, bright blue, grey, orange, mustard yellow, bright yellow, amber

Music: Honeywater, Corook, Oingo Boingo, Jon Bellion, Bo Burnham, Watsky, Mon Rovia, MCR, BMTH, Avenged Sevenfold, Green Day, The Offspring, The Dropkick Murphys, Flogging Molly, Mitski, Girl in Red, Prince, "The Safety Dance"

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desert-bluffs-and-me · 1 year

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WTNV quick rundown - 49 - Old Oak Doors Part A/B

This episode contains a lot of voice talent. As well as our usual lovely Cecil Baldwin as Cecil Gershwin Palmer and Meg Baswiner (who usually is there to tell us the proverb), we have:

Dylan Marron as Carlos the Scientist,

Kevin R Free as Kevin of Desert Bluffs,

Lauren Sharpe as Lauren Mallard,

Mara Wilson as the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in All of Our Homes,

Jackson Publick as Hiram McDaniels,

Symphony Sanders as Tamika Flynn,

Jasika Nicole as Dana Cardinal,

Mark Gagliardi as John Peters (you know, the farmer?) and Maureen Johnson as Intern Maureen.

This episode was recorded live at The Town Hall in NYC on June 4, 2014.

The Old Oak Doors in question are of course, the ones which lead to the desert otherworld, which have been opening up again all over town. Notable points of this live show/episode are:

FOW and Hiram try to remind us about the election and Cecil apologies saying the revolution against Strex is a little more important and besides only the pulses from Hidden Gorge really matter anyway. They spend most of the episode bickering about who should win. However in the end, Dana is chosen which greatly displeases both of them and surprises Cecil since she wasn't even in the running.

Angels and masked warriors are coming through the doors, StrexCorp is repelling them with 'helicopters and smiling, bloodcovered people'.

The angels (who have long arms, faces and feather-covered wings) try to rescue Tamika from the Strex headquarters, but she has already been rescued/escaped.

The sponsorship is read out by Deb, a sentient patch of haze.

Lauren and Kevin are broadcasting from 'a secret place'. They want to 'just work things out'. They are interrupted by Tamika who has found them. Lauren says she'll deal with it, but can't stand up to Tamika and both of them flee allowing Tamika to take over for them. Tamika later chases Lauren out of town.

Dana appears and says that she's dealing with a great rumbling in the desert which is getting closer and might be worse than Strex. She also reveals that Carlos has been helping, allowing Cecil and Carlos to reunite verbally and for Carlos to explain how he got trapped there. Carlos is trying to figure out how to let Dana come back to NV without letting the light (a Smiling God) through as well.

Eventually they do come back through but so does the light which is a Smiling God, which causes the 'universe to unravel'. This is exampled to us by John Peters (you know, the farmer?) who was trapped out there and Intern Maureen who is no longer phasing in and out of our reality but does chew Cecil out for letting her drink the orange juice and for having a terrible intern programme.

Cecil invites Maureen to intern for him again since Intern Jeremy keeps eating his scorpions but she refuses and they (Maureen and John) leave.

The light in NV is so bright that there's very little shadow left and people are forgetting things and reportedly even able to see through their own skin. Steve bursts in to try and tell us about what is happening with everyone, doing a lot of voices, much to Cecil's chagrin.

As Steve is talking, Kevin appears. He indirectly tells the history of Desert Bluffs whilst describing how 'good' Strex's takeover and letting in the light of a Smiling God would be for NV. He gets a little manic here and you can tell it wasn't as positive an experience as he's making it out to be. Steve is curious and sympathetic towards Kevin during this. During this time, Kevin mentions how Janice (Cecil's niece and Steve's stepdaughter) can't walk and how Strex would 'fix her'. Although Kevin means this in a helpful way, that's not the way it comes across to Cecil or Steve. Steve picks Kevin up by his bloodstained lapels and throws him through an Old Oak Door, insisting that Janice does not need fixing.

Dana urges everyone to hide from the danger, whilst Tamika urges them to fight. Cecil sides with Tamika, citing how terrible things were last time when they didn't stand and fight. He also says 'good fight, NV, good fight' lol

Weather: live music by Disparition, disparition.info, featuring Jon Bernstein, Deepthi Welaratna, Valerie Evering, and Mari Yamamoto.

Through a voice mail from Carlos to Cecil we hear that people from NV are not able to actually leave NV (at least not for long) and that the only way to close the doors is to bring everything that belongs in the desert otherworld (the masked warriors) back into the otherworld.

Carlos does send them all back and close the doors, insisting he's not a hero he's just a scientist, but traps himself in the otherworld upon doing so. But since phone battery never dies and reception is great (somehow) they can still talk to each other.

The angels buy out Strex (there is nobody left from the StrexCorp company due to Tamika and her band of armed teenagers driving them out to actually decline the cheque offered for it which apparently makes the acquisition legal). Station Management also has returned to their place in the radio station.

Stay tuned next and Good night Night Vale Good night.

#wtnv #wtnv quick rundown #welcome to night vale #wtnv ep 49 #wtnv old oak doors

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alexander1301 · 1 year

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Title Name: Baco's Cool Zone

I used a SMG4 template by someone named CuteYoshiLover on DA, as you see in the Adventure/Story Arc, I Drew the Cartoon Network Logo to represent a story arc I came up, the Cartoon Network arc, supposedly it was a SMG4-like story arc I came up during CN's 30th anniversary, (Where they broadcast their old shows and bumpers though TVs and YouTube Livestreams not to mention uploading montages and moments and full episodes on their YouTube channel as well as getting on track on Tumblr.) and it involves Baco and his pals and buddies trying to save CN city from Slade and his so-called squirrel apprentice when he lures 🥜Brown into a trap and brainwashes him using him to attack and takeover CN city, sounds shocking and dark wasn't it? hopefully they would succeed on Saving CN City and 🥜Brown from Slade's clutches with the help of Courage the Cowardly Dog, the Teen Titans, and some other CN Characters until the very end. 😃

🙃🍔🥓Baco: Hang on Brown best-buddy, help's coming.

🔴Alex: and we're gonna show that orange and black half-faced cyclops man and his so-called robot army who's boss. >:D

🔵Alejandro: Aw heck yeah. >:D

👦🏻🎮🕹Jermey: Not to mention, turning you back into your old shyish #1 CN fan Squirrel boy-self.

The other Youngster kids: Mmhmm

💟Amanda: Well hopefully we'll survive against Slade and his army, even you had some of those CN Characters you know by your side, even with the Ramcats, Rabbits, and Speedsters.

👷‍♂️Bobby: I hope so *Gulp* 😨

🙃🍔🥓Baco: Don't worry Bobby, in the end, everything would be back to normal, even to Brown himself. ^^

👷‍♂️Bobby: I guess so.

💕💞🎀Mari: We'll just need to have some best of luck out there if you want to save CN city from Slade, as well as Brown.

Tags/Mentions: @carmenramcat @bryan360 @murumokirby360 @rafacaz4lisam2k4 @lordromulus90 @leapant @asteriskdatboi @ftgxsee

#Baco's cool zone #cartoon network #cartoon network 30th anniversary #CN30 #CN30TH #cartoon network arc #SMG4 #roblox

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zillyeh · 2 years

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35- insomnia for smiles! <3

The sleeping quarters for off caste performers weren't... nice. They were hardly better than the seats in the main tent- something some might actually prefer sleeping on or under. Rare was the privilege to not be under somebody's watch, though. Rare, but not unheard of.

The Lion Tamer found his own special spot in the tiger cages. That spot being snuggled into a pile of big orange cats- a pile he made with his growing feline suggestion powers. He was probably the most comfortable one could be as someone under purple. One of his cats' big paws stretched over him like a blanket, the other was more than content to be used as a pillow. It would almost be sweet if this arrangement didn't require him to lock himself in with them

Unfortunately for him and his short lived rest, clowns often woke during the day- power induced nightmares, general restlessness, the desire for.

Well.

"Ariika." Came a hissing voice at the bars, along with a bang that shot him awake, and nearly made his blanket rip his legs off. Calming the two of them took a dangerous few seconds.

"Can't you harass someone else for once, Jeltik?" He groaned, pushing his short curls out of his face.

"And have you miss me?" Tutted the tall purple, metal rod clinking against the bars in a way that made Amillo want to remove the hand that held it. "I could never do that to you." Jeltik's unnerving grin was met with a tired scowl. He rolled his eyes, kneeling down to eye level, tilting his head to the side. His long horns curved back and out, almost like a second, curling smile.

"How about you get out here and entertain me until I'm tired, hm? I have a new dance for you to try."

"How about you go shove that rod somewhere it'll really entertain you, asshole?" Milo scoffed, stroking the cheek fur of both his cranky cats. His weight on the one underneath him seemed to be enough to keep her calm, even without his powers.

"Big words coming from the little man inside a big cage!" Jeltik teased, sticking his fingers through the bars. To both of their surprise, the tiger on top of Milo growled. Jeltik's eyes narrowed, that nasty smile of his faltering.

"I didn't make her do that." Milo said quickly, relaxing her. The cat's eyes stayed fixed on the clown outside her cage, but her posture remained calm. Until Jeltik banged the bars again, this time with an even louder CLANK.

"I don't care. Out." He turned the key left in the lock and let it drop to the floor. Milo felt his stomach lurch, and not for the reason it should have. His hands moved his tiger's paws off of him. Not of his own volition. His body jerked awkwardly as Jeltik forced his muscles to move him toward the door.

"His again?" Milo asked through gritted teeth, apparently not allowed to speak this time.

"He's asleep." Jeltik said, some humor returning to him as he watched- no forced Amillo to trip over himself as he exited. "What's he doing with them, hm? I need them more." He dropped that rod with another angry metallic noise, using both hands to pull Milo back up. Almost too up, seating him just enough on the balls of his feet to be uncomfortable standing.

Milo could just let go of the tigers- say it was an accident. Let them do as they would with him, if anything at all. Sure he'd still get the full blame for it despite... this. He should, he wanted to, and both girls- rapt at attention- wanted him to as well. Something in the back of their heads almost demanded it. He could feel it. But he knew his ringleader, and she would make him watch whatever they did to them first. There would be no way that he could make it through that.

It would have to be this, being at the restless mercy of the clown that'd taken a shining to him, until the next wave of violent takeover took the Nameless Province again.

Amillo's hand's flopped loosely over his head, and he pushed higher on his toes.

He hoped it would be soon.

#Zilly drabbles #Smiles tag #whatasks #indig0g0 #1st lion tamer era miles has me in fits always #agian these prompts are. im bad with taking prompts well LMAO #also spoilers ig if you dont remember what his name is bc i cant help it #Sunseeker tag

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meanderful · 1 year

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It Was Manta Be…

Jo is in the building!

Welcome to the Jo-takeover! This is the part of the blog where Helen wisely decides the readers need a new perspective (hence the sisterly takeover), which, by happy coincidence, also means she gets a journalling break. So let’s pick up from where she last left…

At late notice, I decided to join Helen and Sam for a few weeks on their travels and so it was that on New Year’s Eve, I flew over most of Asia to head to the eastern most part of Indonesia—Papua. Indonesia is a vast country, so even from the capital, Jakarta, it was a four hour flight to reach our meeting point in the city of Sorong. I exited the airport in the early morning of 2nd January at the exact moment Helen and Sam stepped out of a taxi to pick me up and sweep me away to their hotel. There I met Etienne, a Swiss traveller who had been on the liveaboard with Helen and Sam and would be joining us for the next leg of the trip. Both Helen and Etienne had health issues on the liveaboard that meant they couldn’t fully dive, so the plan was to head back into Raja Ampat, with myself in tow, to absorb the underwater world. Sam unfortunately still had his ear problems and so would be snorkelling the waters.

From Sorong, the onwards journey involved a 2-hour ferry, followed by a 1-hour boat ride—plenty of time for me to observe the sad amount of plastic debris floating in the water in this otherwise tranquil and remote setting. Eventually we reached our base for the next ten days—a group of huts built on a random strip of bare sand in the Indo-Pacific Ocean.

Photos Above: dive team ferry crossing; speed boat to our destination

The accommodation was very basic (the most basic Helen and Sam had yet to contend with) with a grass-thatched roof that leaked during the nightly thunderstorms and a bathroom in a separate building with a leaky pipe and distinct lack of flushing toilet. But it had a veranda with a full ocean view in front and a jungle full of lively bird calls behind. All that was missing was a hammock; within one day of being on the island I had successfully negotiated the use of the spare one from the local Divemaster trainee. We hung it up in the communal space, and with that I was declared the best sister-not-in-law around. Also quintessential for our stay turned out to be the vegan chocolate spread Sam picked up in a supermarket in Sorong –a ‘lifesaver’ (Etienne’s words) to accompany the breakfast of fried bananas, occasionally served on top of boiled bananas with a side of fresh banana (safe to say, the vegan memo was picked up by our hosts).

Photos Above: our bungalows; the dining 'room'; morning swim; golden hour

Diving Raja Ampat

We were quick to acquaint ourselves with the underwater world of Raja Ampat, which it’s fair to say, was absolutely drop dead stunning. The coral was colourful and abundant and life teamed everywhere you looked—not that I always found it easy to spot.

There were tiny pygmy seahorses the size of my fingernail and so camouflaged I could barely make them out against the pink coral. And there was a turtle sat under a rock, so big that Helen had to point twice before my vision was able to zoom out and absorb the scale of the creature. We saw electric clams flashing our torchlight back at us, and colourful urchins bimbling along on the sandy bottom. Tiny octopuses buried themselves in the sand, and orangutan crabs with spindly legs and covered in orange fluff wound themselves through the coral mesh. Black- and white-tipped reef sharks flitted in and out of the murky blue depths and two mobula rays flew overhead, silhouetted against the light of the surface. A bizarre looking wobbegong shark, looking like it’d been squashed by a roller, rested on a huge fan of coral. Huge shoals of fish encircled us as we hung weightless above the reef, watching the many individuals acting as one glittering mass.

youtube

Video Above: a few videographic snapshots of our (mindblowingly incredible) time in Raja Ampat, with huge thank yous to Etienne Cristini and Mario Kakante for letting us use their footage! And for being generally excellent humans. Music is "Daydream - Dance Remix" by Ash.

On one dive, I heard the urgent metallic tapping sound of Mario our dive guide tank-banging to get our attention, and looked over to see him literally dancing underwater—he had found a rare frogfish, coloured pink and green (and looking very much like coral to me), resting next to the reef.

Photos Above: sisterly diving; coffee time during a surface interval; after a great dive; diving boat team; one of Raja Ampat's small villages

For those on Instagram looking to get an artistic flavour of diving Raja Ampt, I recommend Etienne’s excellent reel.

Is this the Real Life, or is this Just Mantasea?

The absolutely pinnacle of diving Raja Ampat had to be the mantastic moments with the glorious Reef Manta Rays.

My first interaction with them was on my second day of diving and involved dropping into the water on a section of reef called Manta Ridge—a cleaning station that mantas regularly drop by so that the fish that live on the reef can clean the manta’s skin. Once in the water there was a fair current, so we hooked into the rock and floated in place watching as a couple of mantas swept by us, one coming so close to me that I could feel its eye keenly observing and sizing me up.

A week later, feeling much more au fait with this whole diving thing, I requested a trip back to the mantas to absorb even more of them. Little could we imagine what waited for us.

Due to tidal patterns, we set off from the dive centre at lunchtime (an odd time to be heading out diving—normally you set off very early to be in for a chance at seeing mantas). Out in the water near Manta Ridge, we spot a few manta wingtips cresting the waves. We casually looked over—we’re in manta land so we expected to see a few on the surface. But, the more we looked, the more wingtips we saw. Was that 20, 30 mantas grouping together? Surely not, there would be no reason for them to be in a train like this. But there they were! Although itching to be in the water, we couldn’t dive in as they were swimming over deep blue through a strong current—a dangerous (and illogical) place to dive. Instead, we scrambled to put our masks and fins on and leapt into the water to float on the surface at the side of the manta train to watch many, so many mantas gliding in front, around and under us. I will happily admit I completely lost my shit at this point. I watched the back of two beasts receding into the blue, and turned around to find five of the creatures coming straight at me with their mouths open, feeding. My heart stopped, my jaw dropped, and I almost started to cry in pure awe.

Once the manta train had passed and the current swept us behind them, we clambered back on the boat and went back round for take two. Manta after manta after manta passing by—Helen later used GoPro footage filmed by Mario to estimate that there were 40–50 mantas. Un. Be. Lieveable.

After this experience, we descended down to Manta Ridge and hooked into the rock once more. Floating in the blue, watching the busy life of fish on coral reefs, I entered a meditative state, only to be interrupted by Helen enthusiastically grabbing my arm and pointing—enter mantas stage left! There were three males and one female who had swung by for a mantatory clean. Oblivious to the divers, they flew amongst and around us, one even hovering vertically and puffing out its gills right by Helen.

Fair to say, this was an experience to remember.

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Video Above: the mantastic experience of snorkelling and diving with a whole load of mantas, GoPro footage courtesy of Mario

A Motley Crew

A wonderful band of people contributed to our time in Raja Ampat. In particular, I enjoyed finding my diving feet again under the guidance of Mario (divemaster and Rubik’s Cube extrordinaire) and whilst in the company of Etienne (who celebrated his 100th dive with us).

Our friend and fellow diver Bodhy nicknamed Helen the ‘Professor’ due to her seemingly inexhaustible knowledge of the underwater world. She would spend the time between dives answering all manner of questions from him and the rest of the diving squad on species of shark, behaviour of crabs, and how to determine the sex of mantas. And special mention goes to Anto also who we hope to see diving again, this time complete with a dive computer.

Photos Above: our lovely diving buddies; exploring the island's jungle

Meanwhile Sam became something of a legend at the dive shop (‘he planned a four-month diving holiday and hasn’t dived since week one?! *dramatic gasp* Oh my god I really feel for him’). Very understandably, he decided that after one week of hanging out in the hammock, his back needed some TLC and so took himself back off to civilisation for a massage and a decent hotel room.

Towards the end of our trip, our fellow travellers headed onwards to their next destination, leaving Helen, myself, and Mario to become something of a dream team both above and below water. I’d very much enjoyed having Helen as my own personal diving mentor and as time progressed, we developed a surprisingly fluid communication style whilst diving so that poor Mario still had to observe our incessant chatter even under the waves.

Photos Above: photobomber!; with our fab guide Mario

Onwards and Upwards

After 19 dives, our time observing the most diverse underwater ecosystem in the world was up. Helen and I packed up our kit and followed in Sam’s footsteps to be reunited with him in our next destination.

Photos Above: it's a hard life; so long Raja Ampat and thanks for all the fish!

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