#i love that they look like goats i almost hope they keep the design instead of making even higher ranks into basically humans | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marcilled · 1 year

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I'd love to hear your thoughts on TOTK and what it's flaws and strengths are to you!

I had a whole response typed for this, ready to post, and my power shut off... well! I'm back now so I'll try to type my thoughts on this again.

big disclaimer here that tears of the kingdom is a HUGE game... I'm still working my way through it. I've done the equivalent of one of the divine beasts in botw for a bit of reference (they have a very direct equivalent in totk it seems).

that being said some of its strengths were the strengths botw had... truly expansive open world, that does an amazing job at rewarding you for exploring it. It never feels "empty", there's always some little surprise to find in every tiny nook and cranny you can explore- usually a korok. There's so many koroks. None of them are where they were in botw, despite using the same map (with some modifications).

this got really long, so I'm going to put a readmore (might contain some vague spoilers)

What I find especially apparent with totk, that sets it apart from the previous game, is that it does a really great job of guiding the player from point to point. It's still very much an open world game, but instead of leaving you directionless and hoping you find what you're looking for, there's always some npc mentioning that some weird ruins from the ancient zumblefuck civilization suddenly appeared in chungustown, across the suckdick river in east falumpa or whatever.

Even when you're just, you know, getting your horse out of the stable, the npcs will constantly be giving you directions to some major landmark, where you'll find a bunch of other npcs giving important quests or furthering the plot! In that way, you're never left wondering "well, this is great and all, but what is there to do in this game besides exploring", they just straight up tell you. botw ... sort of did that, but not enough.

I think that this sort of design philosophy is especially apparent in the tutorial island you begin the game at, where they very expertly crafted this island that is definitely "open world", but at the same time, directs you from point to point almost invisibly. Sure, you could visit any of the three shrines in any order you like- but there's one shrine super close to you, and it's the most visible from where you start the quest. So, may as well go there! Oh, turns out that the next shrine is way easier to get to after you have the ability from that closest shrine... Not to mention, the little robots give lots of tips for everything you're about to run into along the path you conveniently ended up taking that definitely isn't exactly where the game wants you to go! Plus, you keep running into this handsome goat man along the way who's always saying some contemplative stuff that makes you fall in love with him. Wait was that just me? Anyways, it's incredibly clever at guiding the player where they need to go without seeming like it's holding your hand either. botw wasn't really designed that way, and I appreciate that totk takes this approach.

In line with the direction that the npcs give you, I also really love to see how the world of totk feels so much more alive than in botw. In botw, humanity had nearly been wiped out by the calamity. For 100 years they toiled just to survive, and the remaining settlements felt very disconnected from one another, with how dangerous travel was. It gave this very melancholic feeling to every place you visited. However, in totk, it's clear that some time has passed since link defeated calamity ganon, and the people of hyrule have really begun to heal. There's people everywhere, and they're visiting each other more often. There's cooperation from every part of the kingdom, with everyone working together to try to find Zelda, and figure out what caused the upheaval, and what it means for the future. One particular interaction I really loved, was talking to a rito and a hylian woman at a stable near rito village, where the rito woman had come to pick up supplies for the village to deal with the intense blizzard there. The hylian woman said something like, "we're glad to help you, you've been wonderful neighbors to us!", and the rito woman was so thankful. that sort of camaraderie really sets the tone for totk, and it warmed my heart to see. There's this real sense of the world healing and supporting one another that I really enjoy.

Another thing that sets it apart, for better and worse, is the all-new abilities you get. No more magnesis or stasis or bombs, they're replaced with ultrahand, reversal, and... being able to attach bombs to literally any object you desire, as well as throw them directly, or even stick them onto contraptions you build?! Not to mention the ability that lets you travel up through ceilings. The abilities are quite different and do make a serious impact in how you play! The bizarre fucking contraptions you're able to build using ultrahand, combined with the various pieces of zonai tech, makes for some really compelling emergent gameplay! And lots of funny clips you can post online which I'm sure you've probably seen by now. It's a lot of fun.

That being said, I feel there's something lost by getting rid of the old abilities- for example, I almost never find myself using any of those abilities during combat. The most I'll do is attach items to my weapons (which is very fun!), but it's nothing compared to being able to bonk enemies with huge rocks using magnesis, or using stasis to pile on the damage onto a single enemy, or even just launch them off of cliffs. Although, the rest of the fun physics from botw is still there, like freezing enemies and making them slide around or what have you. I guess my primary complaint here is that the new abilities feel a bit underutilized, for example I pretty much never use the ability to reverse time, unless I'm doing a shrine where it's obviously required for a puzzle or something. Ah well.

I think my main complaint with totk really just boils down to the story just kind of refusing to admit that it's a sequel? even though... it is a sequel?? it's kind of weird, and just makes me sort of sad. Ancient Sheikah technology was crucial to the entire worldbuilding and story of botw, and somehow it's nowhere to be found in totk. They've just replaced all the ancient sheikah stuff with different ancient tech, which, while it's really cool in its own right, makes it feel very disconnected from the game that came before it. I get that they're trying to make the game feel welcoming to people who never played the first one, but you don't have to literally get rid of all traces of the previous game to accomplish that?!? I haven't found a SINGLE broken-down guardian anywhere in the whole game so far, much less one that's still living. There's been basically NO MENTION of the divine beasts either! The most I've seen is purah and impa having some ancient sheikah stuff/pictures relating to the calamity, but that's about it. It doesn't go beyond mentioning that the calamity happened, really. It's bizarre. They don't even talk about calamity ganon. What the hell!!! it just makes me kind of upset.

Actually, it goes deeper than this. the threat of calamity ganon was omnipresent in botw. You could always see it floating around the castle from almost anywhere on the map, at the very center. More than that, though, the remnants of an ancient war were everywhere- Guardians existed everywhere, always threatening you with that utterly terrifying music. There's not really an equivalent to that in totk. Sure, there's the zonai constructs, but... None of them are nearly as threatening as guardians were, other than the ones that are obviously boss fights. It just feels a bit sad, there's not as much "urgency" to your actions.

Then again, totk seems a bit more linear in its progression than botw- it could be possible that I'm still too early on to see the difficulty ramp up further, and introduce new threats? that'd actually be really cool if that were the case, but I have no idea. I just have to keep playing, I suppose. But as of rn, the "demon king" is just a big question mark, and his influence on the story is a bit unclear right now. it's not even immediately obvious what the endgame is, which is a lot different from botw. So perhaps I'll hold my judgement on this front until later. I just miss how the guardians were a constant threat, always reminding you of what your goal is.

And as one last quickfire of several little complaints:

The (english) voice acting in the game is very underwhelming. It's just not very good. I play ffxiv so I'm used to middling voice performances tho LOL. this was a problem in botw as well tho.

the boss fight i did (that i compared to one of the divine beasts) was too easy. i expected it to feel at least a little challenging, but i didn't feel threatened even once. the enemies i encounter in the overworld are tougher, it felt kinda underwhelming in spite of the (extremely good) boss music

the depths feels a bit samey after a while. my first impression was utter awe, i was like, "i'm completely in love with this game", but i soon realized that they used some sort of algorithm to translate the topography of the overworld onto the depths and suddenly the magic disappeared a bit. it's still really cool, and the mechanic of permanently losing hearts while you're down there makes it feel incredibly threatening, but there's simply not enough variety to feel like it's justified to take up that much space. unlike the overworld, the depths /do/ end up feeling empty after a while of exploring.

... I suppose as a bit of a TL;DR, my main complaints boil down to, "this is great, but it could be even better", or, "I miss some of the stuff that was in botw".

There's more thoughts I could probably share, like how I love all of the very blatant ghibli inspiration in this game (even moreso than in botw!), but I've already rambled quite a lot. thank you for the ask anon!! <3

#asks #Anonymous #long post

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litlunacy · 1 year

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Sending #7, #24, and #36 for Ximena :D but feel free to answer for your other apprentices instead or as well if you prefer! 💖

I'll answer for Ximena, Lilith and Zuri. Also under a cut, because boy this got long.

7. What's their design? Do they have a reference sheet? What made you choose that specific color scheme/fashion style/etc.?

Everyone has a collection of notes on my phone, as well as a few picrews and such. I'll probably post those at some point.

Ximena - Height: 5'6" / Hair: Black, long, just wavy enough to be unruly / Eyes: She has heterochromia. The left is pale green, the right pale blue. / Her fashion sense is lots of silver jewelry and mostly very loose, flowy fabrics in bright colors. Her main color scheme is blue and white, because I like opposites and Julian's is red and black.

Lilith - Height: 5'10" / Hair: Pale silver-purple, blunt bangs, very long and straight / Eyes: Gold / Her fashion sense is lots of tight, revealing dresses in black and shades of red and her super expensive heeled boots. She also likes gold and jewels. Most of Lilith's design was, again, based on opposites. Lucio is pale as hell, so her skin is dark. His hair is gold, hers silver. He has silver eyes, she has gold. He likes white and she likes black. And then I wanted her to share his expensive taste, just less gaudy.

24. What's their relationship to the main 6?

Zuri - Height: 5'1" / Hair: Dark blue, short and shaggy in the back, two longer braids in front, messy bangs / Eyes: Black / She likes baggy, dark clothes that basically swamp her tiny frame. She also always wears a dark purple cloak that Asra gave her. Her design was mostly influenced by how she wants to hide herself and be as small as possible.

I talked about Ximena's relationship with the M6 here. But she is absolutely head over heels for Julian, even if she has to knock some sense into him every now and then, and basically gets along with everyone but Lucio. Goat boy can suck it.

Lilith loves Lucio, but boy does he try her patience. Which oddly enough makes her seek out Nadia for drinks and friendly whining about him with someone who very much understands. She gave Asra the shop when she and Lucio decided to travel and do the merc thing, and they talk sometimes, but what little friendship they had sort of fizzled. She met Julian like, once, and her impression was mostly 'wtf dude'. She likes Portia, is always polite when they stay at the palace, and appreciates how much she speaks her mind. Lilith doesn't know Muriel at all, and he'd like to keep it that way.

Zuri is almost attached to Asra at the hip. He hung the moon as far as she's concerned. Julian scared the absolute fuck out her that night he broke in, poor girl was in tears, and it takes a lot of apologies and him very carefully avoiding her personal space before she feels comfortable with him. They do become friends, but he still does 99% of the talking and makes her jump if he gets too loud. Nadia intimidates her, but she also really looks up to her and wishes she could be more like her. She thinks Portia is a lot of fun, and she really enjoys the sweets she makes and playing with Pepi. She actually gets along very well with Muriel, if only because neither of them really like people and they can both sit in total silence together for hours and not feel awkward. And Lucio is the only person she can say that she has ever really, truly hated. She hopes he suffers like he caused the people she loves to suffer.

36. What was their relationship with their aunt like? With the rest of their family?

Ximena had a fantastic relationship with her aunt Angelina. She and her parents made the trip from Zadith every summer to stay in Vesuvia at the shop, and it was her dad and Aunt Angie who taught her magic. (Angelina was all about green magic, Nazir was more into the abstract.) It was her mom who taught her how to paint, and she picked up quite a bit of her mom's...unique fashion sense. She does remember and reconnect with her family post-main story.

Lilith does not remember her family, and does not care to. Whoever she was before is dead, and she wants nothing to do with the ghosts.

Zuri was raised by her aunt after the rest of her family died in a fire when she was four. She loved her aunt very much, and she was a very gentle and patient person. She was also one of the first people to die of the red plague, and her death was the thing that made Zuri determined to stay and help find a cure. She doesn't ever remember this herself, but Asra does eventually tell her when she asks. It doesn't give her a terrible headache, and he shows her where their graves are. She starts leaving flowers every month.

#the arcana #asks #fan apprentice #apprentice ximena #apprentice lilith #apprentice zuri

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scapegrace74-blog · 3 years

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Ginger Snap

A/N I was driving down the highway today and saw the license plate “I PieGuy”. By the time I got home, this story was half-born in my head. I have no idea where it might go, but it’s taking up valuable shelf space in there, so I’m birthing it onto paper. Modern AU. Silly fluff. Claire POV. First person, which I never write, so watch out for stray pronouns.

The shriek of the fire alarm was the final straw. I’d just stepped out of the kitchen for a minute, but that was all it took for calamity to strike. Opening the oven door in a panic, billows of smoke engulfed me before I slammed it shut again.

“Shit. Shitshitshit. Shit!”

Waving a damp dish towel back and forth like a flag of surrender above my head caused the head-splitting siren to finally desist. I blew a rogue curl off my sweaty brow and gave myself a pep talk.

“Time to woman up,” I sighed before donning the oven gloves and cautiously cracking the door once again. More smoke escaped, smelling of burnt pastry and ruined hopes. Once it cleared I could see the charred carcasses of what were supposed to be vol au vent shells. I carefully extracted them from the oven and dropped the cooking sheet with a clatter onto the quartz countertop.

“Dinner is D.O.A, Doctor Beauchamp. Now what the fuck am I going to do?”

***

Thirty minutes were spent cleaning the evidence of yet another cooking fiasco and ventilating our flat by opening every available window to let in the moist Edinburgh breeze. I now had less than four hours before Frank and three other members of the university faculty would be descending, expecting a home-cooked meal and polite chitchat. I was in no position to offer either.

In a last-ditch effort to salvage the evening, I typed “sophisticated home catering in Edinburgh” and started dialing. The first four numbers yielded either an answering machine or the news (unsurprising) that at least two days’ advanced notice were required to book their services. Nearly resigned to ordering in Italian and facing Frank’s wrath, a woman’s voice with a thick Scottish brogue picked up at the fifth business I called.

“Ye’ve reached Ginger Snap, this is Jenny speaking. How may I help ye t’day?”

I poured out my tale of culinary woe, laying it on a bit thick, but I was truly desperate by this point.

“Aye, we’ve a chef available this afternoon. What sort of menu were ye planning?” she asked.

“Really? Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver!”

I gave Jenny the number of guests and a broad idea of what I’d hoped to serve, although I was in no position to be choosy.

“Never ye fear, Ms. Beauchamp. We’ll pick up the necessary items and our chef will be at yer flat by four. Tha’ should leave jus’ enough time tae have everything ready fer six.”

Thanking her profusely and not even inquiring about the charge, I stood triumphant in the middle of my immaculate yet useless kitchen. Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner?

***

The buzzer rang as I was re-arranging the decorative objects atop our sideboard. I was aiming for the artless sophistication featured in Frank’s favourite design magazines, but instead I lined up each item in order of descending size, or grouped them by historical era. A second buzz had me trotting to the intercom where a male voice crackled.

“This is James Fraser o’ Ginger Snap Catering. Can ye let me in?”

I stuck my head into the hallway to find four organic cotton tote bags bursting with produce at my doorstep. Footsteps pounded down the stairs, where I assumed the chef had retreated to collect more supplies. I brought the first load into the kitchen where I began to unpack foodstuffs the likes of which I’d never seen. Not knowing what else to do to be helpful, I began sorting them; green leafy things here, round crispy things there.

“Hallo?” the same voice called from where I’d left the door ajar. Wiping my hands nervously against my slacks, I went to greet him.

Standing in the doorframe, almost filling it with his immense size, was a young man who seemed more suited to a stag hunt or a rugby pitch than haute cuisine. He had loose tawny curls, two days’ worth of stubble and wore a faded grey henley, dark wash jeans that clung to his muscular legs and utilitarian workman’s boots.

“Claire Beauchamp?” he interrupted my visual inventory.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Sorry. Pleased to meet you.”

Something funny happened when our hands met in a firm shake. A tachycardic blip, my internal medicine professor would have called it. There was no time to analyze this response, however, as he was already on the move.

“James Fraser, at yer service. I’d normally spend more time getting to know ye and yer style of entertaining, but we’re short on time, so let’s get straight to it, aye?”

I gave the chef a hasty tour of our kitchen, stumbling over the names of various implements and opening the wrong cupboard when looking for my saucepans. I blushed as he raised an expressive eyebrow, but shook it off. I was paying for his cooking proficiency, not his opinion on my lack of domestic competence.

“I ken ye spoke tae Jenny about yer menu, but I took a few liberties at the market, based on what looked freshest. I recommend starting with a simple salad o’ nettle and radish, garnished with a wee round of goat cheese and rye crumbs. Loin o’ lamb with new potatoes and pancetta fer yer main. An’ a simple rhubarb custard fer dessert. There’s none with food allergies, aye?”

“Aye,” I replied, then corrected “umm, no, rather,” at his concerned look. “Are you sure you can manage all that in only,” I glanced at my wristwatch “ninety minutes? It seems like an awful lot of work.”

“Och, tis no’ much. Lamb cooks swiftly, ye ken. Tis why I choose it over pork or poultry.”

My saviour rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, preparing to wash his hands and get down to work. There was probably something else I should be doing elsewhere in the flat to prepare, but I didn’t want to appear completely useless to this unflappable man.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He looked dubious and seemed prepared to politely decline, but then his expression shifted.

“Aye. Ye can wash the tatties an’ chop the rhubarb while I dress the lamb, if ye dinna mind,” he suggested.

“Scrubbing in and wielding a knife happen to be two of the only transferrable job skills I bring to cooking,” I joked, taking my turn in front of the massive Belfast sink.

He emitted a low Scottish grunt of amusement before we each settled into companionable silence, focusing on our respective duties. I glanced over at him surreptitiously, envying the ease with which he moved from task to task, lean and nimble hands working alchemy where I only succeeded in producing dross.

“Ye’re a doctor, then?” he asked after my chopped rhubarb had been set on the stovetop to stew and the lamb was marinating in a bath of lemon and fresh herbs.

“Umm, well, I was. My partner and I moved here from Boston, where I trained as a surgeon. I haven’t yet obtained my license to practice here in the UK, so I’m afraid I’m just a culinary liability for the moment.”

It was a current source of strife in my relationship with Frank. He liked the idea of me keeping house, entertaining and eventually settling down to raise a family. I chaffed at this unfamiliar routine. But until I passed my licensing exams, it was rather a moot point.

“I’m sure ye’re far more than that,” he replied solemnly, before breaking into a sneaky grin. “I’ve ne’er seen stalks of rhubarb cut quite sae... uniform. Ye’d have a fine career in quality control, if ye wished.”

I faked throwing a dish towel at him while we both laughed.

“What about you, Mr. Fraser? How did you get into the catering business?” It wasn’t polite conversation. I was really quite curious to know more about him.

“I’ll tell ye, but only if ye call me Jamie.” At my nod, he continued, “twas my Mam. She was always a great cook, but then my Da passed suddenly and she with three bairns under the age of ten tae raise. She needed tae work. We moved tae Edinburgh an’ she laboured day and night tae save enough tae start her own catering business. Since I was a lad, when I wasna in school I was in her kitchen, watching and learning all the while.”

His striking face took on a faraway expression, and I knew he was remembering those days with a mixture of wistfulness and love. I recognized the look from my own reflection, when I thought about my dead parents. Without realizing it, I lay my palm over his forearm where it had stilled above my butcher’s block. His eyes were the same hue as midsummer blueberries, and they regarded me with silent inquiry.

A timer made us both jump, my hand falling to my side. What was I thinking, touching this stranger who I was paying to cook dinner for my boyfriend’s guests? I really needed to find a hobby, so my mind didn’t latch onto any feeble excuse for stimulation.

Brushing my hands against my thighs, I quickly excused myself and left to get properly dressed for dinner. Only thirty minutes remained before Frank and his colleagues were due to arrive.

I spent more time than was strictly necessary away from the kitchen, afraid I’d made things awkward with Jamie. By the time I finally returned, he was plating the lamb and putting the custard in the refrigerator to set. I tried to think of something to say that would re-establish the fluent rapport from earlier on.

“I’ve opened the wine tae let it breathe,” Jamie said without looking at me. I wished there was a similar process for blundering Englishwomen.

“Jamie, I really don’t know how to...”

The sound of the front door opening interrupted me and Frank’s nasal voice rang out from the entryway.

“Claire, we’re here!”

“Fuck!” I exclaimed. Jamie tipped his head sideways in question. “I never had time to explain to my partner that I hired your services. That’s the dean of his faculty out there, and...” I broke off, looking frantically around the room as though a trap door would suddenly materialize. Quick on his feet, Jamie understood the situation immediately. The kitchen windows were still open after my earlier catastrophe. With surprising grace for one so large, he slid through the opening and onto the fire escape.

“Bon appetit, Claire Beauchamp,” the ginger chef wished from outside, a mischievous smirk lighting his whole countenance.

I stood, mouth open in shock, as he gave an abbreviated bow before scampering down the metal ladder just as Frank entered the kitchen behind me.

“This smells delicious, darling. We really are going to make a chef out of you yet.”

#my writing #outlander

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not-xpr-art · 3 years

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Unprecedented ~

A bog of filth piled high with coins

A clang of chains twists fear in your loins

A fire burns high as all sit and stare

A rust corroded man tries to tell you it's not there

A ripple of water reflects something not real

A dust covered track boasts of nothing left to kill

A fan of feathers each as blind as the last

A world so corrupted; a world dying fast.

(04/2021)

(digital painting of an apocalyptic/hell-scape version of our current world inspired by the seven deadly sins... as you can probably expect, there is a lottt of symbolism in this piece, which I’ll go more into below, along with some detail shots!)

This piece has kind of been a 6 month long labour of love, starting with a vague idea I had of a piece that is going to reflect the strange and scary times we’ve all lived in over the last year or so, and then slowly begun to take shape into a kinda apocalyptic/hell-scape piece based on the seven deadly sins representing our current world...

(also the poem above is something I wrote too, but couldn’t fit it anywhere in the actual piece itself)

The piece itself took roughly 60 hours of painting over almost an entire month. I originally planned for it to be a big mixed media piece, but instead decided I would try to keep it as purely a painting. Surrealist art was one of my biggest inspirations, purely because I thought the style would fit this piece the best. I also like how as a style it combines things that are familiar with things that are strange, which is exactly what I wanted for this piece!

The piece is split into 3 major sections, and 7 individual sections (to reflect the 7 deadly sins, which I’ve wanted to do my own version of for ages now). I had thought at first I would stick to creating demonic ‘characters’ for each sin, but then found this illustration on Wikipedia depicting the 7 sins as animals which I thought could both be an interesting challenge for me, and would visually be more interesting too!

I also decided pretty early on that I didn’t want any humans actually in the piece, but rather the imprint of humans. Our actions, our feelings, what we leave behind, etc...

First is the section is dedicated to Greed, Gluttony and Lust, known as the ‘lustful appetite’ sins.

At the top is Greed, which is symbolised by a toad. I wanted this to be representative of capitalism, the toad looming over piles of gold, surrounded by a cardboard box (a not-so-subtle dig at people like Jeff Bezos lol), as it is surrounded by a bubbling dirty bog. The toad is ‘crying’ the same sludge, which I wanted to act as ‘crocodile tears’, showing their falsity. (I feel like it’s also important to note here that in my notes for this part I originally wrote ‘won’t someone think of the economy :(’ lol, which was something I heard a lot of in the news last year...).

Below that, and in direct correlation with Greed, is Gluttony. Gluttony is depicted as a pig, which is why I painted a pig skeleton. This is supposed to represent our overconsumption and over-production, and how that has impacted the planet. Plastic hidden in plain sight, increase of forest fires, etc, all under the ‘watchful’ gaze of mother nature (the trees were inspired by a post I saw about ‘Quaking Aspens’) I wanted the ‘overlord’ of this section to be dead to symbolise how humanity’s gluttony has lead to complete destruction, even in hell itself...

The final in this section is Lust, represented as a goat. This one is arguably a lot darker than the previous 2, and is reflecting the violence performed against women over the last year (Sarah Everand’s murder in the UK and the 6 Asian women shot in Atlanta, just to name a few, not to mention the various hate-crimes against trans women which have been helped with the rise of transphobic rhetoric). Lust is often depicted as someone attractive trying to lure you to sleeping with them. But I feel like that misinterprets what lust really is. Someone with lust is described as being a ‘slave to the devil’ (hence the chains in my art), and I wanted to showcase lust as a quest for power over someone else’s body, particularly women’s bodies. The eyes in the darkness are representing the fear that so many people feel about going out at night, and the goat being in the light also shows how danger can come at any time of day, in any place. The design of the goat was inspired by this medieval artwork of a seven eyed lamb.

The central section is Irascibility, and includes the sin Wrath.

Wrath is represented by a Lion. I wanted this section to be dedicated to how racial injustice against black people has been truly highlighted in the last year, particularly in the case of George Floyd’s murder. Angry people are described to being slaves to themselves, a selfishness that is both reflected in wrath and in racism, and is why the lion has it’s paw rested on a ball and chain. I wanted the lion in this section to be a statue, both because of the Edward Colston (a slave owner who lived in Bristol) statue that was pulled down by protestors last year, and also how statues of lions are a significant symbol of Britishness in general (for example, Trafalgar square) and therefore in turn a symbol of the institutional racism that still permeates so much of the UK. This is also reflected in the rust covering the statue and the trees surrounding it, showing how old and well rooted racism is woven into the fabric of our world. The colours surrounding the trees, and the trees themselves, were based on these photographs of Sulphur lakes in Indonesia.

The lightning is a suggestion of change in the air, and a reflection of the Black Lives Matter movement. Although this whole piece is of course a critical look at our current world, I also wanted to have an air of ‘it’s not too late’ to it. That we CAN make this world a better place to live if we’re willing to fight for it!

The final part is the 3 final sins grouped into the ‘corruption of the mind’ section.

The snake represents Envy, which is also a sin that is associated with vanity, which is what I decided to focus on for this. The snake is completely absorbed in it’s own reflection, very much like narcissus. My idea was the concept of the envy of things that aren’t real, much like how social media has created a world where we strive to be something that we are not, something that we will never be. So to us, the outsider, all we see is an abstract shape of a snake, something that’s intangible. Whereas the snake is so distracted by it that they can’t see the rest of the world. The reflection of the water was based on a photo I took of some reeds in water, which I also thought looked a bit like wires or computer circuit boards.

Above the snake, and taking advantage of it’s distraction, is Pride. Pride is shown as a peacock, obnoxious in it’s wings covered in glowing eyes. Pride is described as something that ‘blinds’, hence why some of the feather-eyes are closed. The peacock is wrapped in a snare wire and is partially behind bars. This is to depict how pride causes people to play the victim, suggesting their intentions are pure, only to stab you in the back, so to speak... The ideas behind this one are more general and vague than the others, more of a commentary on humanities general hubris rather than any specific event. And perhaps speaking of how if we’re not careful, pride will sneak up on all of us, and will ultimately be our downfall.

The final section is above Pride and represents Sloth, depicted by a pile of snail shells. I had originally planned for this whole piece to be dedicated to the pandemic, but realised there were a lot of other issues I wanted to talk about aside from that. So Sloth is the dedicated ‘virus section’, representing how slow my country’s government (and many like it) were in bringing in precautions to stop the spread and save lives. Sloth is often described as a failure to love God, negligence at it’s very core. Both Pride and Sloth are partially covered in bars to critique our current justice system, which suffers from being overly prideful and negligent itself...

This piece is in effect my way of trying to deal with a year that has really fucking sucked lol... It includes a lot of bitterness and anger, feelings I think many of my generation will relate to.

But despite this, I don’t think it’s hopeless... I believe in humanity, in the goodness and beauty of it. Perhaps a naïve notion, but one I will cling on. For if we delve into despair, then it will truly be too late...

I hope people like this piece since it took a really long time and effort!

Other inspirations for this piece:

various images & quotes about car crashes, various surrealist artists’ work, Evgeny Sedukhin’s symphony of the 6th blast furnace, paintings by David Mensing, this creepy lad and this lil snake lying in a chalice.

#artists on tumblr #apocalyptic painting #original art #seven deadly sins #hell #digital painting #painting #animal art #unprecedented #surrealist art #i know i usually put the descriptions and what not in a reblog #but i figured it made more sense to keep this all together since this piece is so tied to the symbolism lol #please give this some love it took over 60 hours to finish lol

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kryptsune · 3 years

Text

World Building Wednesday! (AU edition)~

The Hunt (Fellswap)

*I am going to start off with some basic information just to start!*

The Surface: The surface has been overrun by corrupt leaders. It is very much the concept of big brother. They are a council that presides over the affairs of the world. If you are seen as a threat you will be immediately thrown into “prison” without a trial. They hold occasional public trials in the guise of being fair. Just as WTU claims, the very concept of magic is a threat to them so those that have it are quickly disposed of but leaders don’t always do the dirty work themselves. No. In fact, they use another source by means of execution…the monsters. More accurately it is very similar to the idea of throwing your enemies into a kind of gladiatorial arena. It is not technically considered an execution if circumstances lead to death. The humans are not stupid they know what is going on. Some believe in rebellion against the state and some wonder if the monsters could fix their corrupt world. Either way, the corruption continues and they are not above tossing innocents into “the pit” if it suits their agenda. “The Pit” (aka the Underworld/Underground): The underworld is broken up into different factions by location. The only location without a faction or any type of ruler is The Ruins, because of its size and its isolation this is where humans try to reach for some form of Salvation. Asgore, the caretaker, has made it into an encampment for those that have fallen (the innocent ones). It is almost like a refugee camp. Unfortunately very few make it to Asgore’s safe haven. He does his best. Poor goat dad. He is not like canon Toriel however as he will use violence if necessary as he knows that humans are simply using them as tools to get rid of who they deem criminal. There are signs of old campfires, broken tents, and habitation. Before The Ruins is, of course, the main factions. “Snowdin” is the beginning and Crimson is one of the most powerful in the Underworld.

The Layout of the world: New Home= The Capital Snowdin= Magmire Waterfall= Windyspires Hotland= Tundra

The Underworld is backward to its original layout. The humans end up trapped in The Capital instead and they have to make their way to The Ruins to escape. So it would go like this: The Capital -> Tundra ->Windyspires ->Magmire. The closer the faction to the capital the higher the rank in other words because both Grimm and Crimson live in Tundra. Crim is the lord making him one of the most notorious. He is known for being a loyal “dog” to his queen. Whether that be out of loyalty or self preservation is unclear. Each faction has a lord or lady that rules over it. The ones loyal to Toriel’s (As a side note she is known as the ice queen) regime and their supposed way of life. This also means the closest ones receive the most benefits. Tundra is the one with the most prestige and of course other monsters are trying to strip that title from its current holder, The Crimson Lord. Due to Crimson’s loyalty, he is almost exempt from any wrongdoing in the Queens’ eyes which means he can do pretty much anything he wants. Which is dangerous and I will explain why in a bit. I have a faction ruler list sitting here so I am going to add that to this as well. They are as follows, of course, this does not account for potential power struggles during the story: The Capital -> QUEEN: Toriel Dreemurr Tundra -> Lord: Crimson Lady: N/A Windyspires -> Lord? (I mean she wouldn’t want to be called a lady SHE IS TOO TOUGH FOR THAT!): Alphys Lady: Undyne Magmire-> Lord: Grillby Lady: Muffet “It’s Hunt or be Hunted”: The motto of this verse. After so many centuries of humans being disposed of by monsters they become aggressive. In addition the anger toward all of humanity begins to fuel violence in the monsters. The hunts deter monster on monster violence. It also adds fuel to Queen Toriel’s fire that one of the humans that fell down the first time killed her son. This of course is a lie as Asriel seeks refuge with his father in The Ruins. He helps as much as he can watch his mother lose her mind from afar. It saddens him but he refuses to be a part of this new world order. That is when they realized that humans weren’t just falling into the Underworld. They were throwing throwing the worst of the worst. Their undesirables, criminals, and anyone that dare went against their own agenda. At first, they just captured them and held them in the Capitals network of catacombs but then some began to escape causing damage across their “New Home”. Toriel wouldn’t allow it. A proposal turns it into a game of cat and mouse. The humans are detained and released and then the monsters hunt them down. It used to be about protection but now it’s become a sick twisted death game. The forests of Tundra are littered with traps and deadly pitfalls along with the rest of the locations.

The Brothers Grimm:

Grimm is the wilder of the two brothers and is very much a predator type. His name is derived from the mythos of the Grimm or Black dog. I wanted to keep that dark omen symbology in both his name and design. He slinks around in the shadows so that the black dog aspect is not far off. He also loves watching from trees. He enjoys the catching and hunting aspect of his job and even plays around with his “toys” when he finds them. He will specifically call anyone “chew toy” in a mocking kind of way. That does not mean though that he will not spare you if he catches you. He is naturally curious by things. He also has a little skele tail too. Unlike his brother, Grimm doesn’t really have an ego he just finds his job fun. He is like a giant untamed wolf. Grimm has a love of sweets as well. He admires his brother but he is not bound to his brother. In other words this is not a master, dog dynamic. He is, however, the more accepting of the two. If he is asked to do something he doesn’t approve of then he most likely won’t. Also just because he has the whole puppy thing going on doesn’t mean he isn’t smart and cunning. Again he likes to play around with those he finds sometimes not even dragging them back to his brother for a while. If you are a threat he will kill you but if you’re not you can probably get on his good side. If he thinks you are cute he will probably flirt with you too. He is not beyond that. He plays the part of the dog quite well. Crimson is more sophisticated. He doesn’t go out on “hunts” himself often as he has a faction to rule over but those brought to him will see first hand that he is an insufferable flirt. He is prideful, egotistical, and commanding. He also has a bad habit of keeping mementos from those he deems worthy (what those are… you don’t want to know). He is stern with his brother and seems very outwardly cold to most unless he is playing up his charm. He is not someone you want to make angry as Toriel considers him to also be the Bloody Lord. His weapon of choice is a rapier. His drinks of choice are red wine and champagne specifically the pink kind. Crimson’s incisor teeth also have that vampire point to them. They are longer than the rest of them. There is far more to Crimson than just a ruthless skeleton lord.

The Ultimate Unlikely Hunters: This backstory will involve Grimm and Crimson’s unusual infliction and conditions. They were both experiments under Rivers research team in the beginning. Having been weak monsters as children unable to gain any LV they had to think of a way to survive. They did not seem to possess the ability to wield magic. Tired, injured, and without hope Papyrus carried his baby brother all the way to Windyspires banging weakly on the metal plated doors. The Royal scientist at the time, Dr. River Styx, took the boys in. River cares about the two brothers and he gives them a choice if they want to become stronger as their souls are not capable of it on their own. Grimm takes the offer hoping it will save his baby brother offering to be the first test subject. At the time Undyne was nothing but a teenage prodigy lab tech watching the events of soul manipulation take place. At first the process works. Pap is able to conjure new bone like attacks with magic and all seems to be well. The results cause River to start the experiment on Sans next. By this time complications have already begun to show signs. Pap seems to be more short tempered and aggressive even with little things. His mood swings cause him to lock himself up being monitored day by day.

Sans has never seen his gentle brother this aggressive before forcing himself to look away as they have to strap him down for a follow up experiment. He tries to help his brother the best he can and takes on the older brother role due to Pap’s inability to think clearly. Even he is starting to change. The longer this situation continues the more Sans becomes numb to the feeling. That is until one day Pap’s condition takes a turn for the worse causing him to lash out, bones shifting and elongating. He drops to the ground in agony transforming into a skeletal beast like wolf tearing the entire lab apart. Sans on the other hand continues to take care of his brother but he too is feeling some strange side effects to the soul manipulation. It turns out that each monster’s ancestry buried deep within their soul draws upon a primal power. Not all monsters were about love and compassion in the beginning. Bringing this primal trait to the surface causes adverse physical and biological changes within the two. Sans is more gradual as he starts to be in immense pain. His soul struggles to keep itself together but even he snaps lunging at a lab tech. He zeros in on their soul pulling it from their chest and sinking his teeth into it, draining it of its life force. The pain is suddenly gone. He realizes that he needs souls essence and power to keep that hunger/thirst at bay. It gives him extraordinary abilities. He remembers a long time ago reading about a monster that humans had such a fear of, the vampire. As he comes into power he realizes that humans concentrated soul traits are even better than monster souls. The blood has a high concentration of soul essence which sustains humans as well as monsters (yes the monsters bleed in this). His brother learns to control this new beast within himself but not before he nearly claws his brothers socket out, hence the signature scar. Crimson has scars on his entire body from trying to reason with his once feral brother. They slowly work their way up to eventually ruling the second most powerful kingdom in the entire Underworld with exception to The Capitol. The constant hunts keep both the brothers conditions satisfied. No one is quite sure how the two skeleton brothers became this way after River’s disappearance, all except Undyne.

*This is just to get started! If you have any questions about the characters, how the world works, the layout, story, any of that go ahead and drop me an ask I would love to answer them!*

#undertale #WBW #Worldbuilding Wednesday AU edition #underfell #Fellswap #undertale au #underfell au #The Hunt #friskys multiverse #kits multiverse #multiverse #The Crimson Lord #Crimson #my au #Fellswap au #fairytale aesthetic #lore

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electricbluebutterflies · 3 years

Note

Not sure if you’re still taking prompts for Helnik, but I’ve been needing someone to write Nina telling Matthias she’s pregnant for a while now. In my mind, these two are eternally married and forever in love 😌, and them starting a family would just be... Ughhhh. Cuteness overload.

Modern AU / fits into my vague continuity there, detoured into some very vague NSFW for a moment, and also on ao3. They’re cute and I love them.

The timing is a little questionable, but then again that phrase could describe her entire relationship, if not her entire life.

Nina is not prone to ignoring things, but when her usually annoyingly predictable monthly cycle suddenly wasn’t, suddenly she got real good at excuses. She did have the flu in there, and she’d eaten some bad sushi a couple weeks before that and she thinks she read somewhere that fish poisoning can throw off your period, and the amount of meddling and refereeing she’s had to do in her friend group lately has been stressing her out, and-

By the time Nina bothers to take a pregnancy test, it’s been over three months since she last bled and she’s still not convinced this is an explanation. But she’s running out of anything easier, so what the hell and why not.

She tells no one, buys a couple different cheap tests at a drugstore on her day off, isn’t nervous or hiding anything so much as just doesn’t think this is that simple. Human bodies are weird, she is well aware, and maybe she’s ignoring an elephant here but it feels almost too obvious. She’s in an okay position to have a kid – she’s married, stable enough work schedule and she loves being an EMT, and has a great support system. This will not ruin her life.

Still, Nina is skeptical as she locks the door and takes a few deep breaths before she goes for it. This is too easy. She does not do easy very well.

Technically this hasn’t been a conversation. She knows Matthias wants kids, wants that chance to do better than his own past, and that’s about her reasoning for it too and that seems like a perfectly valid reason to go ahead. She hasn’t been on birth control since before she even met him – she’s tried a few different kinds and always got the weird side effects, and she hasn’t been convinced by Inej’s belief in the wonders of the copper IUD – and on some level it’s probably weird it’s even taken this long to get where she might be right now. An accidental pregnancy has been a possibility for years, and yet…

Pregnancy tests, Nina thinks, are one of the few things that are effectively designed to be easy to use. Just pee on a stick. Or in her case, because she is thorough, pee on three different sticks and let them sit on the bathroom counter for fifteen minutes and hope she doesn’t get confused on which one has which indicators.

It’s the longest fifteen minutes of her life, and she doesn’t quite make it.

Sure enough, all three tests are positive. She’s not sure how she feels about this.

Yes, she wants to have kids. Yes, she will be if not a good mother than at least an acceptable one. Yes, the squad needs a human mascot instead of the damned goats. This is a good thing, but right now it’s a lonely thing and-

It’ll be okay, she tells herself. She just needs to not be alone in it any longer than she has to.

Nina slips out of the bathroom and into the main room of the apartment, clutching the tests like a bouquet. Sure enough her partner is there, sprawled on the too-small couch and near-motionless even when she slips into view.

“We need to talk,” she says as she kneels down to eye level, well aware that phrase has never led anywhere fun.

To his credit, Matthias does at least recognize the objects in her hands. “Are you…”

“Yeah.”

He almost falls to the floor, tries to hug her and ends up tackling her instead. She doesn’t mind, makes cute noises as they figure out a good position for clinging to each other. She is lucky to be doing this with him, whatever happens.

“Do you… is that a good thing?”

“Yeah.”

Nina feels overwhelmed, unable to do words. This is happening, she processes as her husband puts his hands up her shirt and onto her belly, over the space where a little light is starting to flicker inside her. This is happening. They are doing this. It will be okay.

“We’ll figure out…”

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now,” she murmurs, nuzzling her face against his neck. “I’ve known for like a minute. Let me be weird about it.”

She can almost see the wheels in his mind turning, how much more effort this will take, how much he will need to do to protect and keep warm. They’ve pulled everything off so far, and it will be okay and-

“Can I be excited for you?”

“Sure. I’m just… this is a lot.”

He kisses her face instead of saying anything, finds her lips and shows love that way. She’s heard that some men get extra territorial when they find out they’ve gotten someone pregnant, and the potential of it is kinda hot right now. If this makes him more assertive with her, if both of them being overwhelmed for different reasons finally sets the balance…

Fine, the increased sex drive may already be her favorite part of being pregnant, like that’s even a surprise. She guides his hand where she wants it and he does the rest, petting her soft parts until she bites his shoulder because the apartment has thin walls and she’s naturally more of a screamer. Good man. This will be a fun couple of months.

“Will you still go down on me when I can’t see your head?” she asks when she’s breathing normal again.

“Only way to make sure everything looks right down there,” he replies. “Whatever you want, Nina. And whatever our little creature wants.”

“We’re gonna have to call it something obnoxiously cute or else-“

“We have time, right? You’re not…”

“I think I’m three months. Maybe closer to four? So yeah, we have time.”

He holds her just that much closer, and she is warm. They’ll be alright. The three of them, now. Perfect and safe. She’s not worried about a thing.

#Anonymous #ebf writes fic #helnik

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 15

"So what part of Lucien are you from?"

Harrison quickly adjusted the pillow behind him (padded and pillow'd booths were still something he was trying to adjust to - how did Django keep these clean and free of stains?) and then settled his hands back around the fragrant mug of tea in front of him. "We used to live on the border near Duvos but were forced to move."

The girl - Lily - frowned. "Oh. Yeah, I...I hear that a lot."

"When you live so close to warmongers it's going to be a common story."

"Did your family stay in Lucien?"

Harrison nodded and took a sip of the tea before answering. "We did. We went from a farm to a small home on the opposite side of Lucien -- not enough room for a farm but big enough for my mother's pottery business to continue."

Lily's eyes lit up. "Pottery? Did she happen to be the one who made the little teapots with the lids shaped like wild flowers?"

"...yeah, actually," Harrison answered after a pause. "You've seen them?" ((Continued below cut))

"Ha! Seen them? I owned four!" she giggled. "I loved those things. I love floral things in general...what with having the name Lily and all. My mother's name is Rose - you could say a love for all things flowery runs in the family."

He laughed with her at that, and again sipped from his tea; it was a black tea blend with a really intense flavor that he'd had to temper with more sugar than he was used to (it was still very delicious though). "-I just wish the place had a bigger yard. We owned six dogs when we had to move and there never seemed to be enough space for them to run around once we set up mom's workshop in the back yard."

"Aw..." Lily sighed. "I always wanted a dog but my mother wouldn't let me have one."

"Ours were farm dogs - they kept predators away from the chickens and goats. We couldn't keep the chickens or goats but the dogs came with us when we moved."

Lily nodded and rocked back and forth for a moment with a dreamy look, then made a little popping noise with her mouth and turned her attention back to him. "What was farm life like? Did you have siblings to help out? How many animals did you have?"

"Eh...it was a lot of work. I had just turned seven when we moved so I didn't have to do a lot of it but I had an older brother and sister who both complained about having to get up so early to get chores done before school. I had just gotten old enough to be trusted to feed the chickens each morning..." He sighed -- he really missed the farm some days. All that open space to romp around in, the rooster crowing each morning, the smell of freshly plowed dirt. "How about you?"

"Mom and I lived in a small cottage on the western side of Lucien. Close to the border with Duvos but not so close that we ever had any trouble. OUR troubles always came from the Peripheries -- lots of random beasts would wander out of there every spring. Mom would go drive them off or have to kill them and then we'd sell the meat and hides. She also had this big flower and herb garden too and she'd sell dried and pressed flowers for scrap-booking and the herbs would go to local chefs."

"Were beasts actually that big of a problem? I'd sometimes hear my schoolmates talking about big monsters but it always sounded...like just stories, you know?"

Lily lightly slapped her hands flat on the table, leaning toward him with her eyes wide. "Stories? Ha, no - you should see some of the things that wander out of that area. Nothing that mom couldn't ever handle by herself but sometimes they made a really big mess."

Harrison nodded slowly at that, and for a moment his attention was caught by the steam curling up out of his mug; in a flash of imagination he pictured the steam curling out of the nostrils of some big beasty, and shuddered a bit. "That must have been rough."

"I guess it was."

Lily paused as Sonia brought out the fruit salads they had ordered; someone with a broken ankle had come in to the clinic during Harrison's lunch break and he'd gotten back to eating much later than intended so he wasn't all that hungry but had ordered something anyway because it had seemed like Lily was going to forgo eating since he was.

"-do your parents and siblings still live at your new place? -- well, I guess it's not new now if they have been," Lily giggled. She stuck a grape into her mouth and Harrison could hear it pop from across the table as she bit down.

"They do. We've sort of dug in, you could say," he chuckled. "Set down new roots and now they're in deep." He picked out a grape for himself and almost drooled when he chomped down; these were really, really juicy -- perfectly ripe. Portia really had some of the best produce around. "-how about your family?"

"Mom's still holding down the fort," Lily mumbled around her mouthful of grape pulp. "I don't think anything could convince her to move...it's kind of annoying, really."

"Why's that?"

"Well..." Lily sighed heavily, swallowed, and then absently twirled her fork around with her fingers. "...I don't know. When I was younger she always seemed so bright and cheerful, and loved doing odd jobs that took her out and about to new places. At some point though she came back totally changed and swapped over to pressing flowers and growing herbs. Life...got a lot more difficult when she did that, both monetarily and just in general. It's like a totally different person came home."

"Oh."

Lily shrugged and began picking the rest of the grapes out of the salad; Harrison tried to keep a neutral expression but inwardly he was sort of dying for having managed to make this awkward.

"It's not a big deal," Lily finally went on (after what felt like forever). "Mom doesn't have the heart to travel anymore so I do instead. Take back all sorts of trinkets and stories. She seems to love that part so I keep doing it. It's pretty easy to find odd jobs everywhere so I can see how she managed to do it all the time."

"Yeah, neat," Harrison replied in a rush. "I mean, uh - that's neat," he added after a moment, hoping he managed to get a more normal tone out this time.

She simply grinned at him and bit a bite of watermelon in half. Some juice trickled down her chin; she didn't seem to notice. They ate in silence for a bit; Harrison still felt ready to melt into his seat and disappear but Lily seemed at ease, and the fruit really was good.

Thankfully they managed some more small talk once they'd emptied their bowls -- when and why Harrison decided to become a doctor, more about his mom's pottery business (she asked him to ask his mother if she could hold a lily-patterned tea pot for her, and he promised to write to her about it), Lily's vast knowledge of flowers and their care, some of her traveling stories. That earlier feeling of awkwardness had faded and was replaced with a light, giddy feeling of having met someone new (and someone who...apparently thought he was cute, which was its own sort of sensation that made his heart race a bit).

It was almost closing time by the time they'd paid and walked outside; there was a chilly breeze whistling down the street and Harrison zipped his coat up to the very top.

"How long will you be in Portia?"

Lily shrugged and tightened her scarf. "I didn't plan on staying long but I think I'll stick around for awhile." She flashed him a mischievous grin with that. "Pretty good reason to."

Again he felt his ears burning. "A-ah."

"Do you work every day at the clinic?"

"Not EVERY day, no, but most."

She nodded and bounced on the balls of her feel again. "All right. I'll come poking around again...maybe tomorrow?"

"I...think I'd like that, yeah." They smiled at one another and the burning in his ears spread across his face. "Where are you staying?"

She pointed across the way to Happy Apartments. "There, for now. I WAS camping out near the beach but I'm tired of how cold it's been. And with my arm having a hole in it I wanted ready access to hot water so I could keep it clean."

She waggled her arm at him and he nodded - clean water, hot or not, was definitely better than unfiltered sea water to keep the wound free of infection.

"-oh, speaking of my arm, I had a...weird question."

"Hmm?"

She pursed her lips and hesitated, then huffed. "So up in Atara I overheard folks talking about some kind of machine you had down here - something that surgically fixed things?"

Some kind of-- oh. "You mean the Uplifter?"

"Not sure what it's called but maybe? Someone there was bragging about how it had fixed their split lip without even leaving a scar behind. Does it...only work on faces?" Harrison nodded and her shoulders slumped. "Well, poo. So much for that idea."

"What...idea? Were you wanting to try and use it on your arm?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm cleaning it like the doctor told me to and everything but I was hoping it could be...you know, fixed, without me having to deal with it for the next several weeks."

"Ah. Y-yeah, unfortunately it's only designed to work on the neck and up."

"What's it do, then?"

"Uh..." Harrison shoved his hands into his pockets, thinking -- Xu hadn't formally taught him about the Uplifter just yet but he sort of knew a few things. "It...repairs injuries, and I know it can alter things about your face. It can also temporarily cause your hair to grow in a different color too."

Lily's eyes lit up at that. "Different hair color?! Really?" She blew out a breath and looked up toward the sky, smiling. "I've always wanted green or blue hair... But it only does it temporarily?"

"Yeah. No idea how long it lasts - I haven't been taught much about it."

All of a sudden her expression froze and she looked to him wide-eyed. "Hang on - you said it can ALTER your face?"

"Yeah. Dr. Xu said he's used it to fix cleft lips and a few other facial birth defects on people from Atara and Ethea."

"How?"

"I have no idea," he sighed. "It's a complex piece of machinery. I guess if I read the manual I could figure out the science behind it but I doubt I'll be learning about it any time soon...or ever. I won't have one when I become a doctor and strike out on my own so it might not be worth my time to learn about something I won't have access to later."

Lily's expression relaxed, as did the rest of her, and she rocked back and forth from toes to heels. "That's a good point. Kind of wild that something like that exists and used to exist in the Old World too... I bet Old World people had crazy hair colors," she giggled.

He opened his mouth to respond and then immediately closed it; right on the tip of his tongue was Eli's name and situation -- if anyone would be able to talk about hair color trends of the Old World she'd be the one. But...it seemed like it wasn't his place to tell anyone about her. There was rumor enough floating around without him pointing more people toward her, and he'd seen her therapy sessions; it just...wouldn't be right to put more pressure on her right now. She was a person, not a novelty.

"Either that or they were really terrible about not injuring their faces," he said finally.

Lily let out a laugh that ended in a snort; she clapped her hands to her mouth and blushed a bit (or maybe it was just the way the lights outside the Round Table lit her face - it was hard to tell). "Ha- uh, eheh. Sorry. That just immediately made me think of an entire civilization of people with too-short doors banging their heads everywhere they went."

Harrison bit his lower lip to cut back on his laugh - that WAS a funny image. "Maybe the doors were all normal-sized and Old World people were just really tall."

"Or bad at building doors!"

She started laughing again and Harrison let himself laugh along; even if he knew that was just goofy speculation it was still pretty amusing to picture.

Once she'd caught her breath she turned toward the Apartments in the distance. "Ok. So I'll see you at some point tomorrow?"

"Sure thing."

"All right! Good night!" She waved over her shoulder and headed off toward the apartment building.

Harrison waited and watched until she made it through the doors and inside, then let his feet carry him to Dr. Xu's house. He had a few books to pick up before he returned to his own rented room at the Happy Apartments building.

Oh. Maybe he should have mentioned he was staying there too.

Man...he was really bad at this.

-----------------------------------------------

Two more weeks and no sign of the spy.

At least by then Mali had come back and she'd helped Arlo, Remington, and Sam comb the entire Portian countryside again as well as most of the territory between here and Sandrock.

They'd found a few old campsites but the tracks were too muddled to tell who they belonged to; with Old Bob wandering around and tourists moving through Portia it just wasn't possible to positively confirm who had stayed where -- Eli, Asher, and Mali had worked out a rough "when" for the sites but it wasn't any help at determining the "who" part of it. And that rope bridge that went underneath the waterfall was gone now too.

They were essentially at a dead end and it had Arlo frustrated; he hated the idea of danger lurking around Portia. Maybe that spy was sent here to do exactly that - spy. But what if they were sent to harm or steal something? They'd already taken one gun off the first spy...who knew what this semi-invisible person possibly had on them now that their presence was known?

They'd all spent a lot of time discussing tactics; for now they were going to ask Selene to design a sprinkler system to keep the area nice and muddy and also borrow some of the builder's fine wire and hide trip wires in the tallest grass attached to...well, they hadn't decided on that part yet but it was going to be something that could be easily hidden and also made a ton of noise if something shook it. Since none of them could come up with anything that could overcome the suit's near-invisibility they would have to focus on what physical variables they could actually affect.

One decision they'd made that Arlo didn't agree with was what Eli called a "Stupid Plan" - capital S, capital P. The logic, she explained, was that the spy knew that THEY knew the spy was around; they should assume that the spy would be carefully watching them for signs of vigilance and be purposely avoiding their search efforts. The trick to getting the spy to lower their guard again was for the rest of them to pretend to be stupid: everyone goes "back to normal" and pretends to stop looking for them (with emphasis on pretend - they'd all of course still be as vigilant as they could without tipping their hand).

"If we can just convince this person that we're convinced they're gone," Eli had said, "then I bet they'll get bold and sloppy, just like how they got bold the night we first fought them."

It made a sort of sense in a way but Arlo didn't like the idea; he wasn't comfortable with pretending to let his guard down (mostly because he didn't know how to actually do that). The Pigs, Sam, and Remington had been willing to give it a shot so he'd been outnumbered, though they'd at least all respected his concerns about it.

The one good thing out of the decision to enact the Stupid Plan was he and Eli were free to go back to their respective abodes and sleep in their own beds. He didn't realize how much he'd missed his bed until he was back in it - no hard pillow beneath his head, no rough canvas surface of the cot under him, no carpet burns on his elbows from said canvas. It felt like a shameful luxury to be back in a proper bed and he actually overslept the next morning. By the time he'd dressed and hurried down to Selene's to meet the others for their newly restarted morning training sessions they were already halfway through the warm up exercises. It did make him feel a bit better to see Eli looked a little...not tired, but not exactly focused. More like she could fall back asleep if she laid down somewhere.

Adam was here today in Asher's place; he moved to a spot next to the man and started in with the rest of them as they swapped between exercises and stretches to warm them up for their run and the harder stuff afterward.

"Anything?" he grunted after a bit, glancing toward Adam.

"Nothing," came the answer.

Well...he supposed he wasn't surprised.

It was nice to be back to training at least; Eli seemed to be going easy (easier) on them today. They finished their warm ups, did their run, and came back to do the harder things but it felt shorter than he remembered it being. Still...the combination of sore muscles, sweat, and a heightened heart rate felt good. When they were done and had cooled off some Remington and Sam headed out to take up their old patrol routes; Adam left to, presumably, head back to the facility camp, leaving him and Eli alone in the yard.

As he watched she did some stretches (ones that were different than those she'd taught them) and then moved over to lean against the fence and stare out into the fields; he glanced out that way too -- there were barren trees, bushes, and a few llamas out there that were picking at the first green shoots coming up. With the spring melt finally upon them the bushes and trees would be budding soon and there'd be more out there aside from the isolated spots of hardy herbs that, somehow, managed to survive and grow even in freezing temperatures.

"I have to be honest," he said into the silence. Eli shifted just enough that he knew she was listening but not so much that she was looking at him. "I have no idea how to act like I'm not aware of my surroundings. That's probably going to be the hardest part about all of this for me."

"Want to learn?"

He came up to stand beside her at the fence and eyed a couple of llamas as they suddenly burst into a hopping fit, bouncing around one another for a few moments before going back to grazing. "How exactly do you teach something like that?"

"It's not hard - you just have to learn new ways to pay attention without paying attention."

She looked over to him with a smug smirk; he blew out a sigh but smiled. "I'm guessing it's something I have to be shown that can't really be explained."

"More or less, yeah."

"I guess the next question is when would you want to start?"

She shrugged. "Can be anytime we're both free. It's not something that's easy to teach so you're going to need a lot of time to dedicate to it."

Arlo nodded; his schedule was back to normal now that they were acting out the Stupid Plan. "We can make it work."

Out in the fields there was suddenly the noise of startled llamas; Arlo shifted his attention from Eli back out to the animals and could see a pair of figures walking in the fields. He squinted that way and it took him a moment to realize it was Dr. Xu and...someone else. Probably that student of his. Xu had what he thought was a basket over one arm and seemed to be gesturing at the little dots of bright green among the brown, soggy grasses. His student nodded and walked over to bend down over one of the green spots and began to carefully remove bits and pieces and hand them up to Xu -- Arlo knew the doctor went on walks to collect whatever freshly growing plants he could find, even in the dead of winter, so it seemed they were observing one of those.

Movement from the south caught his eye then and he saw someone approaching the two in the fields; whoever it was was bundled up in a heavy coat and had a scarf on -- it looked to be a woman, but not anyone Arlo recognized. She waved at the two in the field and the student waved back (what had been his name? It started with an H...Arlo had only met him once and now he couldn't remember the man's name). Whoever the woman was didn't stick around long: she greeted them, very briefly talked to them, then continued on back toward Portia.

"Any idea who that is?"

Eli shook her head. "Nope. I've seen her walking around town but I've not talked to her myself. Guess I can ask Dr. Xu at my next therapy session."

Arlo nodded, then looked over to her. "...I don't want to make you uncomfortable with personal questions, but..."

A faint smile crossed her face; this time she did turn her head to look at him. "How's it going? It's...going. Some days are better than others but overall it's getting easier. Time heals all wounds as they say."

"I'm glad to hear it." He turned to put his back against the fence and leaned. "There's a holiday coming up - Day of the Bright Sun. I bet a lot of people would like to see you there."

"What's the holiday for?"

"Have you heard of or read about Peach yet?"

She nodded. "That's the guy who invented some machine that got rid of the clouds in the sky, right?"

"Right. It's a holiday to celebrate the sun returning. We spend the week leading up to it wrapping gifts and delivering them to city hall, and on the day of the holiday the gifts are dropped all over town from an airship that flies over Portia."

Eli raised an eyebrow at that. "Not sure which is harder to believe - air-dropped presents or the fact an airship still exists."

"It-" Arlo paused, thinking on how to word it. "-it's probably not the type of airship you might be thinking of."

"I'd hope not. Airships were bigger than Portia is."

"Really?" he asked; she nodded, and he shook his head. "Hard to picture... But ah, no. This airship isn't all that big. Not much bigger than Mali's plane, to be honest."

"Is this a sort of buy in thing to participate then?"

"Buy in?"

"Do I have to give gifts to be able to receive any?"

"Not..." Again he paused. "Not really? I don't think there's any actual rule about it. Why?"

"I'm not the greatest at choosing gifts - especially not for people I hardly know. And I don't want to receive something if I didn't give someone a gift."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Everyone gives something - usually several things - even if it's just small trinkets or even raw materials of some kind, and the gifts don't have anyone's names except for the giver on them. Just last year a pair of gifts I received were a bouquet of flowers and a roll of cotton fabric -- it's sort of a crap shoot for what you might get."

Eli nodded slowly, wrinkling her nose. "Well, if I'm not buying for specific people that makes it a lot easier in that regard. A lot less awkward too, since I'm not physically giving them out myself."

"Nope. Just catch presents falling from the sky."

"Sounds...interesting, then. I'd at least show up for the novelty."

He smiled at her. "And companionship, I'd hope."

She returned the smile. "Yeah, yeah, that too." With a small grunt she straightened and dusted her hands off. "I'll add gift shopping onto my To Do list. Let me know when you next have some free time and we can start in on teaching you a few new tricks."

"I'm free now if you are."

He watched as she turned to head toward the opposite side of the yard where the gate to the road was; after a breath or two he followed her -- what else was he supposed to do?

"Now's good, I guess. Without turning around, how many llamas were out on the field?"

"Uh." Arlo slowed to a stop; the urge to turn around or at least peek was strong but she'd specifically told him NOT to do that. "...five?"

"Seven. How many bushes were out there?"

"Si...six?"

"Four."

He blew out a sigh and started to follow along behind her again. "I'm guessing my first lesson is to assess everything I see?"

"The idea is to sort of...absorb it without actively counting or noting things. Things like numbers, patterns, colors, people, details of places, sounds and what directions things are coming from or moving in. Take it all in, in a glance or two, and be able to recall it quickly."

"Right..." Ahead of him Eli headed out of the gate and then waited, holding it open for him. "Well. I'm up for the challenge."

She just smiled and led the way down the road.

----------------------------------------------

Something about the sound of the airship overhead was distinctly...uncomfortable.

Not enough that it wasn't something she could tolerate but enough that she could feel anxiety and a bit of fear just beneath the surface; with it came an urge to duck into cover, or to otherwise get out of sight. Eli couldn't recall ever hearing something like it but clearly her subconscious did, and inside her head a small alarm system was starting to blare.

She'd been standing with the crowd of townsfolk only moments ago but the arrival of the airship had sent them all into a stumbling jog together as a group, laughing and lightly jostling one another; no one stopped unless they'd actually managed to snag a present and then those persons hung back to let the group run ahead and get a head start on the rest of the falling presents.

Eli wasn't anywhere near enough to catch any, and at the moment she didn't particularly care.

I'm FINE. I'm fine. There's no danger here.

She kept it going as a little mantra in her head and forced herself to focus on the spectacle of an entire town catching things raining out of the sky. Sam had said the airship swept across the city and then out to the fields; it should be out of sight and range soon.

Sucking in a breath she scanned her surroundings; a ginger-haired woman with a parasol and Gust were still here, as was Gale. They were walking at a slow pace, talking and laughing amongst themselves, and hadn't seemed to notice she'd lingered.

She should...probably move. To avoid drawing attention to herself. This wasn't something she wanted to try and explain to anyone - especially not on a holiday. Let them have their festivities and fun...no reason to bring the mood down.

Of course that meant following the source of the sound.

Come on. I can handle this. It won't be much longer.

It took another breath or two to urge herself into a slow walk, heading off after the crowd. Here and there in the street were bows and ribbons - she assumed they'd fallen off the gifts since she was still trying to wrap her head around how the presents could survive falling from such a height. Did shock foam persist through the ages? Maybe she could get a look at a box later.

The crowd was at the far side of the plaza ahead - the one with the big tree in the middle. Eli glanced up and traced the path of a package that was wrapped in bright orange paper with white ribbon; it suddenly hit her that those looked an awful lot like New Year's Dawn presents. A holiday that didn't exist anymore...one she'd never experience again. No presents, no family dinners, no games, no costume parties...

Simultaneously she felt a heavy weight settle in her gut coupled with the sensation of her stomach twisting into a knot, followed by a familiar hot prickle behind her eyes. Abruptly she stopped and spun on her heel, fully intending to retreat as quickly as possible back to her room. In a split instant she realized Asher had been walking up behind her - it was clear he'd been trying to catch up to her and her sudden reversal of direction had caught him by surprise while also nearly bowling him over.

"Whoa-" Asher stumbled a bit as he tried to put some space between them.

"Sorry. What's up?" she asked quickly. She side-stepped him and looked up the street -- no one was in sight now. Good. She could still make an escape.

"Uh." His eyes were on her as she moved. "-is something wrong?"

In the moment Eli knew she could just lie and say everything was fine; the problem was if he could already see it on her face then it'd be pointless to try and hide it now. With a deep breath she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "Yes. Sort of. I just need to get some distance between me and here."

With that she started walking; it was a little difficult to hear him over the sound of the airship but after a pause Asher's footsteps hurried after her.

"At the risk of sounding insensitive, what's the exact problem?"

"Dunno," she replied. "Just something about that sound is...not good."

He sped up until he matched her speed and then walked at her side. "Gotcha. Um. Let's -- have you seen the hot spring retreat? We can catch the Dee-Dee up there and it ought to be far enough away you won't hear the airship."

"I hope you're not expecting me to actually utilize the springs."

"No, I wasn't thinking that. That's just the first location that's within quick and easy reach that I could think of that would also be fairly quiet."

"I could just go home."

"Do you want to be shut in a room at the moment?"

Eli sighed and squeezed her eyes shut; what she wanted, right now, was to be normal and at the festival, holiday, whatever-it-was in the plaza. Which...after that airship left, maybe she could go back. Maybe. Her obvious lack of caught gifts might invite questions she'd rather discuss with Dr. Xu first though, so maybe not.

Luckily as they came within sight of the Dee-Dee stop the Dee-Dee was only ten yards down the road; Asher waved at it and the driver stopped and waited for them to jog down to the stop instead of continuing on. The hum of the Dee-Dee motor seemed a little more familiar, if a bit rougher than she was accustomed to, and it helped a bit to drown out the airship's rumble. It was a short drive up to the retreat and, as Asher had said, it was way quieter -- she could barely detect the airship from here, and once they were standing on the dock that surrounded the little inset pool meant for the hot spring patrons to sit in there was the lapping of water and a bubbling noise as well.

Now that the "danger," according to her brain, was gone she could feel a bit of tension draining away and leaving what felt like a gaping, empty ache behind her right eye. Asher found and unfolded a pair of fabric deck chairs and set them up facing the west, away from Portia and any chance of spotting the airship. Eli dropped into one and ground the heels of her palms into her eyes.

"So." She had to clear her throat and try again. "-so, was there something you needed?"

Asher lowered himself into the other chair but didn't lean back. "Not in particular. Mali wanted to talk to Arlo and I was asked to play messenger but since he's busy with the holiday she wasn't expecting him to go rushing out."

"Don't let me keep you from an errand. I'll be fine."

He waved a hand dismissively. "They can wait. Unless you're wanting me to leave." With that he looked over to her.

She blew out a long sigh. "I don't know what I want. Well, I do. But none of what I want is possible. I want to go home. I want to hug my husband and parents again. I want to see my squad. Some days I wake up and I'm perfectly fine with the thought that all that's gone and there's nothing I can do about it...other days, you just have to press on and act like you're fine."

Asher bowed his head slightly, resting his chin on his fists with his elbows braced against the hard wood of the arms of the deck chair. "I wish there was something I could do, or say, to help with it all. Sometimes being human seems like a waste, doesn't it? Brains we don't have control over stirring us up and making someone think or feel things they probably wouldn't choose to otherwise."

Eli managed a very faint smile. "I definitely can think of better emotions to be stuck with, yes." She let out another heavy sigh and rubbed at her temples - the ache was spreading across the front of her head, through the forehead area and behind both eyes now. "I think I have a slight edge in that part of ranger training was focusing on instinct and logic and forgoing most emotional reactions. We were...always ready for it to go to hell. You had to be ready to switch off the emotional part of your brain and get shit done at any moment. I think my 300 year long nap damaged that switch, or maybe this is just too much to switch off whenever I want to."

Asher nodded at her but didn't say anything; they both went quiet and Eli focused her attention on the details and soft noises around her: the wind, the bubbling of the spring, the small waves caused by the bubbles hitting the pilings that supported the dock. A few times she heard faint birdsong. There was a small building on the dock that she assumed held whatever was needed for the hot springs business; it was partially blocking the wind coming off the fields so the steam off the springs was actually making it a bit too warm for her liking. She thought of taking her jacket off but didn't want her shirt to get damp.

Without any other option Eli just sat and steamed inside her coat until every last hint of sound of the airship was gone; after giving it a few minutes more she stood up and turned to look toward Portia -- at least from here it seemed like the airship was actually gone.

There was the creaking of a deck chair to her right and out of the corner of an eye Eli could just make out Asher standing up.

"Are you ready to head back?"

"I think so. It seems pretty quiet."

He studied her a moment. "Are you wanting to go back to the celebration, or just head home?"

"We'll see how I feel when I'm at the gate again."

They put the deck chairs away and headed back toward the Dee-Dee stop to wait for the next one to drive by.

"...as embarrassing and awkward as this was... Thanks."

Asher flashed her a gap-toothed grin. "You're welcome. Have to earn my keep somehow."

She snorted and shook her head. "Typically 'friend' is not a salaried position."

"Good job security, at least."

------------------------------------------------

Everyone around him was buzzing with excitement and chattering over the gifts they'd gotten this year; Arlo had gotten a neat looking woven wristband in purples and greens (no name on it so no idea who had given it) along with a new bronze blade from Django, and (purely by accident, since his third gift had technically been caught up in the tree without anyone noticing until it fell out and hit him as he was walking by) a nice woolen blanket from Sophie.

The box that the blanket had come in was a tad too bulky to comfortably carry around so he had it sitting on the bench beside him as he stood off to the side of the Research Center; everyone was beginning to break off in small groups to go take photos together, and he knew that once Sam and Remington had done whatever personal ones they wanted to take that they'd be looking for him so they could all take their yearly Civil Corps picture together.

Skimming the crowd Arlo couldn't help but feel a bit sad that he didn't see Eli anywhere; he had the urge to go walking around to see if he'd just overlooked her somehow but knew it'd be easier for Remington and Sam to find him if he stayed put.

He knew that logically it was going to take time for Eli to feel fully welcome, and like she fully fit in...still, he couldn't help but feel like he was at fault in some way. Should he have personally invited her along, instead of leaving it open? But then would it seem like he was being overbearing or guilting her into something she didn't want to do? There were times he held back out of worry that he was about to be too pushy but perhaps that instead was making him look too distant?

"Arloooooo-"

At the shout he looked up sharply only to see a mob of children heading his way - the triplets, Jack, and Toby at their head.

"No need to yell. What do you need?"

Toby walked up and let the boxes he was carrying drop to the ground in a heap. "Have you seen Eli? We can't find her anywhere."

Hm. So that confirmed that she just wasn't here rather than he'd somehow missed her. "I haven't, sorry."

Toby huffed out a sigh. "Guess we'll keep looking. Mayor Gale let us grab some extra presents for her since no one had seen her and we wanna give them to her."

Arlo looked the kids over; the boxes at Toby's feet had been opened, as were the three boxes Jack was toting. Each of the triplets had two opened boxes each but they also all carried one extra, unopened gift. "That's very nice of you kids to do that."

"Guess we can check if she's at home," Jack said. Toby nodded and scooped up his opened gifts.

"Try not to bombard her," Arlo called after them as they started to head off up the street.

"What was that all about?"

Arlo turned to see Sam standing there. "They're looking for Eli. Don't suppose you've seen her today?"

"Not since the very start," Sam answered. "She was with everyone when the airship started its pass. You don't think something happened to call her away, do you?"

He frowned; that hadn't crossed his mind, actually. "...I hope not. We should go check - have you seen Remington?"

"Selene cornered him for a few pictures but he should be free here in a few."

With a nod Arlo turned around and looked over the blanket box; there was a recycle bin at the bench near the base of the tree. He first took the bronze sword out of its box and fastened its clip to one of the straps on his jacket, then slipped the sword into place until he heard it click securely. Next he took the blanket out of the box and tossed it over his shoulder; it didn't take long to walk over to the recycle bin and deposit the boxes, and by then Remington had spotted them and they all met up at the barbershop.

"Do we have trouble?" Remington asked once he'd reached them.

"Possibly," Sam replied. "Seems Eli disappeared right as the airship started its flight over town - we're worried something might have called her away so we're headed out to the facility to go looking for her."

Arlo nodded (even though they hadn't discussed the 'facility' part - it made sense to head in that direction so he wasn't going to try and correct her). "If you're done here let's head out."

Remington gave a curt nod and the three of them turned to head up the street; once they'd crested the hill and arrived in Peach Plaza they, to their surprise, spied Eli -- she was standing with Asher and the five kids were huddled around them near Peach's statue.

"-well that's good news," Sam said after a pause. "If she AND Asher are both here then there's probably nothing wrong."

"At the facility," Arlo added. He looked between the two of them. "There might be something else wrong, if you catch my meaning."

Remington frowned. "Hmm. Yeah...could be. I bet this reminds her of a holiday back in her own time. Bad memories."

Sam matched his frown. "Didn't think about that. ...well, let's go see."

Arlo walked with them up toward the group around Eli; Asher caught his eye and flashed them an 'OK' signal discretely, which Arlo acknowledged with quick jerk of his head.

"-AND," Toby was saying, as they got within earshot. "Look! I kept my grades up just like I said I would!"

The three unopened gifts were sitting in a small stack at Eli's feet; Arlo watched as Eli turned her attention to a square of paper Toby was waving around. Finally she managed to grab it out of his hands and hold it still so she could read it and after a moment she nodded and handed it back.

"All right, fair enough - you did like you promised your mother you'd do. So now, once your mother says it's ok to start, I'll start teaching you. But only when your mother says so," Eli said, emphasizing the last part.

"Man, this is going to be great!" Toby squealed. He stuffed the report card back into his jacket pocket and spun around, taking off in a sprint only to collide with Remington. "-oof, sorry!"

Remington helped get him steady on his feet and then wisely stood aside as the boy took off running again. "It's fine just-" and then, rather than finishing his sentence, just shrugged with an amused look as Toby was already mostly out of sight.

The other kids giggled and said their goodbyes and headed off to follow Toby (though at a much slower speed), leaving the five adults to look to one another.

"We were worried when we didn't see you," Remington finally said.

Eli smiled faintly; Arlo thought she looked tired.

"I'm fine. Just had to step away to get some air," she replied. Her attention flicked down to the gifts at her feet, and then Arlo was almost certain she looked at the wristband he was wearing; the smile got a little deeper and he had an inkling as to who had given the gift without putting their name on it. "Was nice of them to think of me like that."

"They wanted to make sure you got something," Arlo said. "You were missed today."

Something flickered across her face but the smile came right back. "Ha, c'mon - you're going to make me blush."

As she talked there was something written on Asher's face but Arlo couldn't read it well - it was something like thinly disguised concern, he thought. It seemed to him like Eli hadn't just stepped away for air...but what had happened?

Asher noticed Arlo studying him and the odd look went away, replaced with a smile of his own. "Well! Now that that's taken care of, what say we all head down to what's left of the festivities?"

"It's just pictures left, and then the town photo," Sam said. "If we hurry we might be able to get one or two in before the big one."

Eli's brow furrowed. "Another town photo? Is that just...something that's done at every holiday?"

"Mostly," Remington chuckled. "We do like our photographs here in Portia."

After a pause Eli nodded at that. "I guess some things don't change -- ah, er. I mean, people's desire to document things don't. There's no conceiveable way that ANY city in my time could have ever gathered together for one big group photo where you could still even tell it WAS people."

She bent to pick up the gifts; Arlo stepped over to her and offered a hand. "Want to open those before you head down?"

"Oh. Guess I should, yeah."

Arlo took two of the gifts off her hands and stood there while she balanced the third one on top of them. The first box opened revealed a finely carved crystal inside a delicate wire filigree that was strung on a leather tie -- something Arlo immediately recognized because HE'D been the one that had bought that one from a traveling craftsman months ago and given over to city hall as one of his gifts.

When she flipped the tag over to read it Arlo saw her expression soften a bit, and the smile grew. "Ha - interesting twist of fate, that."

"Y-yeah, I guess," he laughed quietly. "Is the wristband something you...?"

"Saw me looking at it, huh?" she said as she tied the crystal necklace on. "I couldn't figure out what to buy so I made a couple things. Funny we got one another's gifts."

"Better than getting one of your own?" Sam offered. She looked amused but also admiring of the necklace. "Where'd you even get that?"

"I'll tell you later," Arlo answered. He swapped one of Eli's unopened gifts with the empty box and stood there holding her last one while she opened the considerably larger box.

Inside was a pot (plastic, but painted with a gorgeous geometric pattern) with a healthy looking asteria plant in it with a tag from Alice attached to it; Arlo again swapped out her last gift with the empty box and then, as she was opening it, began to carefully break the boxes down so they could go into the recycle bin. Inside the last box was a copy of Journey to the East, from Django.

Eli turned the book over in her hands. "Huh...I remember a book by this name existing back in my day. I wonder if this is the same story."

"Only one way to find out," Remington said with a grin. He gently clapped a hand to Eli's shoulder and looked down the street. "Why don't we all go get one photo squeezed in?"

"Sure." Eli tucked the took under an armpit and carried the potted asteria in the same arm.

Arlo quickly collapsed the book the book had been in and deposited them in the recycle bin as they passed by; they had their picture taken together just outside of Portia's gates then hurried back inside to get on the riser for the town photo.

"How about dinner?" Asher asked once the picture was taken. "We can all squeeze into a booth, probably."

"Didn't you have a message for Arlo?" Eli asked dryly.

Asher shrugged. "I'm getting to it. Mali stressed that it wasn't any rush."

Arlo looked over at him. "What?"

"Mali wants to talk to you, when you've got time. She specifically said it's not anything immediately important because she didn't want to interrupt your holiday. So, let's go get dinner, then you and I-" he said, pausing to waggle thumb between himself and Arlo, "-can take them some dinner and see what Mali wanted."

"Assuming we can get into the Round Table," Sam said with a smirk and a nod of her head toward the crowd of people walking toward the restaurant.

Asher shrugged again and grabbed the elbows of Remington and Eli. "Then let's get moving so we don't get shut out." He began to pull them along with him, and Sam and Arlo followed.

They did manage to get a table, with Remington and Sam on one side and Eli sandwiched between Asher and Arlo on the other. Arlo found it...a bit suspect, that it always seemed like Asher found a spot next to Eli; it wasn't his business but it stood out to him in a way he thought he should remember.

It looked like Eli's first lesson on noticing things had already sunk in.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 15 #Arlo #Sam #Remington #Mali #My Time at Portia

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the-endless-storm · 4 years

Text

Nuzlocke Shield Part Four

Part Three

An we are off again. Three zones to go through to get to Hammerlocke, let's see what we get.

Stony Wilderness it is snowing, and we get Sneasel, which is a dupe so let's try for a second one. It's a Chubcoo.

Oreo - Chubcoo (m) Slush Rush Sassy (SDf up / Spd down) “It scatters things often!”

Giant's Cap is sunny (thank god) and we get Lombre! Wasn’t expecting this.

Pina Colada - Lombre (m) Rain Dish Docile (no change) “It's impetuous and silly!”

Lastly Hammerlocke Hills is raining and we get Pelipper. Meh.

Febreeze - Peilipper (f) Drizzle Modest (SAk up / Atk down) “It's very finicky!” Rainy Mark

This is the first Pokemon I’ve caught that had a mark on it, but it's not enough to warrant putting Pelipper on my team.

I see Bede and the Chairman in the middle of Hammerlocke, but let's do some exploring before story time. First up, a house with a Blakckbelt and a level 2 Cottonee. Um ok.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I forgot about Endevour. It left Snapper with 1 HP! That could have been a disaster!

I’m wary about going into the Battle Cafe. I know they're double battles against fairy types, and the only effective move I have at the moment is Acid on a baby Pokemon. So I’ll give that a miss for the moment, maybe come back when Toxel has evolved and I have some Steel moves somewhere.

Mmm, Chairman Rose knows exactly what he's doing walking around the city in those shorts. There's a guy outside the far left Pokemon Centre, trying to meet someone. Maybe if Chairman Rose spent more time on Grindr he wouldn’t want to resurrect ancient deities.

I wish we had a chance to explore more of the castle part of Hammerlocke. There are loads of paths and stairwells with gates on them that look like they should open up.

Anyway, let’s see what Route 6 has on offer, thankfully not another damn Ice type.

Oh wait, Team Yell first.

Yay, Jett is evolving into Toxtricity Amped Form!

Ah! Bullseye is evolving in Mudsdale too! Awesome sauce.

Ok finally back to Route 6 and our encounter is a Heatmor! Interesting, I have genuinely never used this Pokemon before.

Otis - Heatmor (m) Flash Fire Modest (SAk up / Atk down) “It takes plenty of siestas!” Rowdy Mark

I think I’m going to swap out Carcoal for Heatmor. It has better stats and isn’t four times weak to Water and Ground. There's a TM for Fire Spin in the Hammerlocke shop too, and whilst it's not the greatest attack it should cover Heatmor until it learns something else.

While I’m back here, I’ll check the Move Relearner for my newly evolved Pokemon too. Heatmor can relearn Incinerate, so Fire Spin isn't needed now. If money weren’t so easy to come by I might be upset about spending 10k.

Get to the end of Route 6 and the dumb fuck trainer has his Koffing use Self Destruct, good thing I swapped Otis out for Snapper otherwise that could have been a short career again.

I like Stow-on-Side, it's good a good look to it. No encounters here though, so I'll head up to the mushroom forest bit and see if I can catch a Psychic, Ghost or Dark type and not another useless bird or something.

Dammit Hop leave me alone.

Dammit Opal leave me alone.

Dammit Team Yell leave me alone. Can’t do anything I want these days.

Fine, Glimwood Tangle is out of the question until I beat Allister. Going to go train a bit.

Got everyone up to 35-36 and raided a few dens to get some TRs that really didn’t help a great deal with moves. A lot of my team have totally the wrong natures, boosting Attack when Special Attack would be better and vice versa (Toxtricity being a prime example). But we'll see where we go.

Also Drumroll has evolved into a Rillaboom. This play through is notably the first time I have used one of the starters, as I generally dislike all three in this game.

Time to hit the Gym.

The trainers didn’t put up much of a fight, but I’m wary of GMax Gengar doing a lot of damage because I don’t have anything that resists Ghost attacks. I hope Drednaw will be fast enough to get off a Max Darkness and survive anything Gengar throws at her.

Not faster than Gengar, but Gengar used Max Ooze which Snapper resists, and the Max Darkness KO'd it.

Ghost Badge get!

Dammit Bede leave me alone

If Rose disqualifies Bede in the name of keeping things fair, shouldn’t help also disqualify Marnie (or at least issue a warning) as a result of her supporters actively attempting to sabotage other gym challengers?

Dammit Sinistea leave me alo... oh no never mind. Sinistea you can stay :)

Chamomile - Sinistea (g) Weak Armour Gentle (SDf up / Dfc down) “It likes to fight!” Vigor Mark

Goodbye Machoke, Sinistea is on the team. I'll use the Cracked Pot I have to immediately evolve it into Polteageist, and as always check back with the Move Relearner.

I'm half way through the Gym Challenge. I have two zones left to explore in the Wild Area (Dusty Bowl and Giant's Mirror) not counting the two I need to cross water to reach. I’m in no immediate need for new Pokemon right now, so I’ll see what the weather is like on them going forward and visit when it's not snowing or raining.

I love Ballonlea, it's such an amazing looking town. This is the best looking location in the entire game, it's like all the design budget went here instead of being shared out elsewhere.

Got some eviolite, useless atm but you never know if I might need it in the future.

Let’s take on Opal and get that out of the way.

A trainer's Morgrem almost knocked out Chamomile with an attack, but luckily I was faster and able to take it down first. Close though.

Bullseye makes quick work of both Weezing and Mawile, and Opal's stat boosts certainly don’t go amiss. I was intending to use Jett here, but with Bullseye's Stamina boosting its defence, plus a speed and special defence boost from Opal she might not be needed.

It took three Max Steelspike's but Alcreamie fell to Bullseye. Opal only asked two of her three questions.

Fairy Badge get!

Back to Hammerlocke and Chairman Rose's Grindr hook-up is still waiting at the Pokecentre. I think now that I’m back I’ll do the Battle Cafe I skipped last time.

Oh fuck yeah, they're level 37 each. If I’d tried this back when I thought about it I would have been under level 30 and it would have been game over for me.

What a crap prize. An item that restores 20HP. Wowee.

Eww Bede is here again. Gross.

Let's do the two spots in the Wild Area now to get them done and out of the way before I head to Circhester.

Giant's Mirror gets me a Roselia. Not great tbh. Oops, knocked it out. Oh well.

Dusty Bowl gets me a Dubwool. A Dubwool!? Of all the Pokemon in the Wild Area I get the big goat!? Ffs.

Babs - Dubwool (f) Fluffy Relaxed (Dfc up / Spd down) “It's capable of taking hits!”

Back to Hammerlocke, past Sonia and the pointless bit of storyline that has no impact. Though it is refreshing to hear characters say “this isn’t for kids to worry about” instead of the fate of the universe resting firmly on your shoulders while the elite trainers sit and watch as is the norm in most Pokemon games.

God do I have to fight Hop AGAIN!?

“The way you battle, it kind of reminds me of Lee” you mean, well using proper strategy and skill instead that'a expected of someone aiming to be the champion, Mr “ive studied all my brother's battles, now wooloo use tackle on the steel type”?

“Now have a taste of our true power!” Water attack against a grass type. Ok.

Route encounter is a Corviknight, so another dupe. Next one is a Shelmet. Ok, I like Shelmet, but being unable to evolve it makes it pretty useless.

Kiniggit is a bad name I can't enter. I assume it's because the French used it as an insult against King Arthur during his quest for the Holy Grail.

G'night - Shelmet (f) Shell Armour Naughty (Atk up / SDf down) “It takes plenty of siestas!”

Ok, that's enough for today, this has been a long one. No deaths though so that’s good. Might finally have some balance to the team.

Current Team Drumroll - Rillaboom (lv 40) Bullseye - Mudsdale (lv 41) Snapper - Drednaw (lv 40) Otis - Heatmor (lv 40) Chamomile - Polteageist (lv 40) Jett - Toxtricity (lv 41)

Boxed Joltik Slowpoke Charjabug Croagunk Oddish Snorunt Sizzlepede Sneasel Chubcoo Lombre Pelipper Carcoal Machoke Dubwool Shelmet

Losses Bandit the Nickit - Knocked out by a fat squirrel Gumball the Tympole - Devoured by a centipede with a moustache Castlevania the Rookidee - Torn apart by a cute mole HaagenDazs the Vanillite - Murdered in an act of revenge by a smelly frog

Wild Area Tracker Rolling Fields West Lake Axewell East Lake Axewell South Lake Miloch Dappled Grove Watchtower Ruins North Lake Miloch Giant’s Seat Motostoke Riverbank Bridge Field Stony Wilderness Giant's Cap Hammerlocke Hills Dusty Bowl Giant's Mirror

Part Five

#me #pokemon #pokemon shield #nuzlocke #long post

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angeltiddies · 5 years

Text

The ficlet: Welcome Home, 2.2k, post s14.

The prompt: Yo! Congrats for the 3000! I was thinking a cute ficlet of Dean finding Cas' sketch book and it's all cute drawings of Dean with little sentences or notes by Cas. Stuff like a drawing of deans sleepy waking up face and Cas' note saying "this is my 2nd favorite Dean face". for @idkmanjustgo

It’s been a week since Dean and Sam have seen Cas.

They’re stuck in the bunker, and Cas is out hunting God.

“We should be out there with him, Sammy.” Dean grumbles.

“I know Dean, but Cas can help locate him faster. Once he does, we can go help with the fight.”

Dean rolls his eyes at his brother. “How can you be so okay with Cas leaving at a time like this?”

It’s been a week since Chuck snapped his fingers and the aftermath is immense. The sky is constantly dark, black smoke blocking out the sun as demons search for available vessels to trash. Ghosts roam the earth, tied to nothing but the stench of hell. Dead men shuffle through the streets, rotting and hungry.

Cas shouldn’t be out there alone.

That’s when Dean’s phone rings and he lunges to grab it from the countertop next to the stove.

“Cas?”

“Dean. I have been...unsuccessful...in my search. I know that you would prefer me to stay away from the bunker at this time, but I’m,” an exerted grunt crackles through the phone, “quite injured and could use a place to rest.”

Dean kicks himself. It’s the end of the fucking world so of course, he had just told Cas he’s no longer welcome. “You’re dead to me.” How fucking stupid.

Dean sighs, trying not to give away how much Cas is not dead to him at all. In fact, he’s pretty much all he’s been fixating on for the entire past week and now he’s worried sick at the prospect of Cas being so injured he needs time to heal.

“Course, Cas. You, uh, you’re always welcome here.”

“I estimate my drive will be around 12 hours, considering all the chaos on the roads.”

“Sure. See you soon.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean hangs up and presses the phone to counter, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

“So, Cas is coming back?” Sam says over his book from the kitchen table.

Dean just nods and leaves the room.

He knows there’s not much he can do to help Cas, he knows that they are more fractured than they’ve been before. There’s no fiery anger or sorrow, there’s nothing to hold onto. Instead, it feels like a faux indifference, one overcompensating for true emotions and is eating away at them both.

Neither wants to show weakness. Neither wants to feel the full weight of their situation. Neither wants to admit the opposite of their indifference.

But Dean decides, fuck it, it really is the end of the world this time and he needs to make sure Castiel feels welcome in the family again.

It’s a small step, and it won’t erase the words he’s already said, but it’s in this moment that he decides to prepare Cas’ room for his arrival.

He reaches door 15 and hesitates. Castiel deserves his own god damn permanent room, not some guest room that’s only available when it’s convenient for them.

Dean decides to move Cas to room 12, just down the hall from his own. Maybe he’ll regret it but c’est la fuckin vie.

When he finally enters the guest room to collect Cas’ things, he doesn’t find much.

It’s a sterile room, lonely almost. He grabs the little photo leaned up against the lamp, the one they took back with Bobby and Jo and Ellen all those years back, a few spare buttons and some weird Enochian book with a few goats etched in gold on the front.

He turns to leave when he notices the corner of a piece of paper peeking out from under the bed.

When Dean leans down to grab it, he realizes, it’s not just a piece. It’s a whole notebook.

The pages are sturdy and lightly creme tinted and the cover is white, simple, smooth, blank.

He knows he shouldn’t, but once he reaches room 12 and sets the knickknacks he found down on the desk, he sits on the edge of the bed and opens the journal.

What he sees first makes him gasp.

It’s a hand on a shoulder from a high perspective. There are terrible faces screaming, warped, muddled together in the background, but there is a light, replicated by the contrast from perfect charcoal shading, that blinds in the foreground.

The bottom corner reads “Dean Winchester is Saved”

Dean’s mind flashes back to his first moment seeing the scar from Castiel. His stomach lurches.

Dean never expected Castiel to be an artist, but now, seeing the magnificence of something so simple, his heart yearns to turn the page. He knows there’s something wrong about looking through someone else’s notes, but he can’t help it.

He does.

This page is eyes. His eyes.

Angry eyes. Soft eyes. Closed eyes with long lashes. Crying eyes. Eyes with pupils so dilated, Dean can see love. A few of the eyes are framed by expressive brows, some sketches reach down to the tops of freckled cheekbones.

He breathes deeply and closes his own eyes, letting his finger softly run down the page, not enough to smudge it, but just enough to feel the intensity at which these were drawn.

He opens his eyes.

Turns the page.

This page is noses. All the same one. Freckles spattered meticulously over them. Some are side profiles, others, straight on. Some flared, some scrunched. Dean never thought a nose could be a muse, and yet...

Another page flipped means he reaches lips. Dean lifts a finger to his own to trace the shape. These are his lips. They are drawn lightly open, smiling, pressed together, shouting.

One depiction has his lips locked with another’s. His lips dominate the image so he can’t pick out who’s they are. He wonders if he’s kissed that set of lips before. He wonders if they are Castiel’s, but quickly shakes the thought from his head.

Another page turned and he’s not sure how to feel.

It’s his entire profile, perfected. Mimicked sunlight hits his face and his eyes gleam in the light. His face is sharp and determined, but his eyes fool no one.

This one is labeled, “Dean running us through a case. It’s morning, the sun rises and warms us through a dirty motel window. I don’t remember the case. I was too busy looking at him.”

The next page is him sleeping. He wishes he felt weird about it, wishes he hated that Cas had drawn him like this, messy hair and parted lips and cheek squished into a soft pillow, but he can’t help but feel warm and soft and flattered.

The accompanying note does nothing to settle the butterflies in his stomach.

“Dean didn’t sleep well last night, he doesn’t usually. He sleeps angry. But we returned from a case in Illinois last night and he needed true rest. I snuck in and gave him a dream. Here is his face when he’s dreaming of picnics with a woman he saw on a billboard for shampoo yesterday.”

He keeps turning pages, settles back into the pillows on the bed and lets his feet swing up. He flips and gazes for a long while.

There are countless images of bees drawn on the sides of pages, one page is an entire hive of them, honeycomb patterning in the back.

There are a few drawings of Sam and Jack here and there as well. Sam looks so happy in one of the sketches that Dean’s heart nearly bursts. He hasn’t seen Sam that happy since...ever...and seeing it, well, maybe it should make him sad, but he can’t bring himself to care. It’s perfect and it makes Dean think it’d be possible to see that exact expression on his brother’s face sometime.

Sometime soon, he hopes.

There’s one page in a cartoon style that depicts Jack as a superhero, a whole costume design and everything. “Angel Man” written messily at the top.

Dean snorts into the silence, Cas, you are such a huge dork.

Finally, he reaches one of the last pages, and he shuts the book abruptly. He squeezes his eyes and holds the book between two hands against his chest. He looks up at the concrete ceiling and tries to calm himself by counting air bubbles in the harsh grey above.

He can’t resist it though.

Tentatively, he opens the book again, to the place his thumb subconsciously kept for him.

It’s not just lips this time.

It’s their faces, the entirety of each, down to the shoulders. Dean is pressed up against the line of a wall and Castiel’s thumb is resting on his cheek as the rest of his hand disappears by the nape of his neck.

Dean’s hand is hidden by Cas’ face but he can see his fingers buried and tugging lightly at black hair. Castiel’s face is so sincere, like every emotion he has ever felt as an angel— anguish, doubt, fear, devotion, loyalty, love(?)—is committed to one kiss. Dean’s face is less complex, it’s accepting and relaxed and wanting.

Dean isn’t sure how Cas depicted such emotions on the page, maybe used some angel mojo or something, but all he knows is he can feel the kiss. The weight of it. The importance.

Most of all, he feels the want.

He wishes he didn’t. He wishes Cas hadn’t gotten his face so painfully right, but he had. Everything that he had built up in his chest was screaming to be let out.

Holding those feelings down had been worse than locking down Michael— perhaps that’s why he had been so good at keeping the archangel in captivity for so long.

Dean lets his eyes roam the page once more before noticing the tiny phrase written in the lower right corner, “A dream.”

His heart flutters and he gingerly closes the book this time. He sits up and sets it on the bedside table.

Running a hand through his hair, Dean lets the silence overtake him.

He wants nothing more than to feel turmoil about this. He wants to feel angry or betrayed or confused. But he doesn’t.

All he can feel, book set aside, silence settling, is peace.

With that, he finally stands. He turns down the sheets and fluffs the pillows. Adds another, extra-soft blanket from the bottom drawer of the cabinet to make it feel even more like home. Then, impulsively, he tears one of the last empty pages from the angel’s sketchbook and scribbles onto it, setting it gently on the pillow.

When he’s finished, he slips out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

—

Cas got home exactly when he thought he would.

When evening rolled around, he was pulling in to the bunker garage and walking in to greet Sam and Dean in the kitchen.

When he did, he was limping, eyes heavy and tired.

Sam was first to rise and greet him by supporting him and helping him hobble forward.

“Is there anything I need to check out for you? Are you okay?”

His voice is scratchy, but it comes out okay, “Just need rest. Thank you, Sam.”

Dean stayed silent, staring at Cas and Sam slink through the kitchen to the hallway. He sipped the whiskey in his hand for a moment before standing and following the two.

When Sam nearly let go of Cas to open the door of room 15 for him Dean let out a “Nope. 12.”

Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean leaning against the wall and half glared.

“Little help here?”

Dean moved forward and passed the two before pushing open the door to room 12 and letting them walk past.

Sam gently lowered Cas to sit on the bed. Cas smiled as he saw all of his things neatly resting on his nightstand. Finally, he turned and picked up the note on his pillow.

Welcome Home.

He read it, and Dean watched as the angel’s cheeks turned pink as he felt the familiar material of the paper under his fingers.

Cas first looked to Sam, but Sam shook his head, already knowing the question on Castiel’s mind.

“Then...who?”

Dean broke a bit at the utter confusion on Castiel’s face. How could he have said something so hurtful that Cas couldn’t even comprehend a “welcome home” coming from him?

Dean let his eyes flick over to Sam, who in turn nodded towards Cas with a soft smile. With that, Sam turned and left the room.

Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah, welcome home, Cas.” And washed down the rasp with a swig of his whiskey.

Cas just looked up at Dean with a mix of fear and wonder in his eyes.

“Thank you, Dean, this means,” he brought the note close to his chest and let his eyes close, “so much.”

Dean couldn’t stop his feet from moving him to sit beside Cas. But he didn’t really mind.

He placed a hand on Cas’s shoulder and let the wave of blue that hit him when Cas’ eyes were trained to his own wash over him.

Dean quirked his lips into a half smile.

Cas’ eyes, usually so set, flicked to his hands. “I assume you’ve seen my sketches.”

With that, Dean slid his hand off of Cas’ shoulder and brought it to rub his chin.

“Yeah, listen, I am so s-“

But before he could finish Castiel rushed out a “Please don’t be angry.”

Dean’s stomach twisted with guilt.

“Cas, no.”

Castiel was squeezing his eyes shut, the note in his hand now crumpled from the pressure of his fist.

“Cas, hey,” Dean breathed out again. His heart rate quickened as he reached out his index finger and placed it under the angel’s chin, moving to guide his face towards him, “look at me.”

Now facing Dean, Castiel opened his eyes and saw something he never expected. Something he never drew for fear of not having the privilege of seeing it in real life.

He saw Dean longing for him.

Like a low roll of thunder in the distance, “Dean.”

And then Dean was leading Castiel’s chin forward and bringing his lips to meet his own.

The touch was feather light at first, hesitant, but then he was pushing closer when Castiel didn’t pull away.

Their lips were slotted perfectly together.

Heaven and Hell. Angel and Man. Dean and Castiel.

When their lips finally parted, Dean refused to let Castiel away completely. He set his forehead gently against Cas’ and looked into the blur of perfect blue. Tears were leaking from the angel’s eyes, and Dean furrowed his brow in concern as he wiped one away with the pad of his thumb.

There were no words, but Dean understood. He knew what his angel was feeling. He had seen it before in charcoal.

That night, Dean didn’t sleep in his own room, and Castiel rested, drawing the details of an arm draped over his torso and a face pressed against his chest and legs intertwined with his.

Home.

#destiel #destiel ficlet #followers celebration #deancas #king !!#angel !!#its 4 am im sorry this is shitty #my tense changed oh no

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chestnutroan · 5 years

Note

Who is Ben? Have you talked about this character before?

Ben is my sole survivor, and my longest standing oc. I’ve posted a LOT of art of him but I’ve always put off talking about him at length but now I’m out of the rough when it comes to having the will to do anything, ill talk about him!

Frank (Benjamin) Romara was born in 2044 in Arkansas to African/Italian parents. When he was 13, he, his parents and his younger brother Gene were uprooted to Boston under absolutely no single good reason given at the time from his father. His dad died probably not a year later, and combined with the massive change of life Ben’s education went down the shitter, and he had to repeat freshman year. At the end of what should have been his sophomore year he got put in a program for “at risk youth”.

[Detail about him, about Nick Valentine and Fallout Lore etc under the cut!]

The program was basically about increasing the amount of people entering government related jobs, because due to rising contempt less and less people were going down that path, and that’s bad for a whole lot of reasons, for the government at least. When it was first conceived of, it was more of a support scheme for kids not going onto greater things, but it expanded to where it was mandatory for any teen that met the requirements to be put through the system and spat out with more allegiance to their country. Ben checked off a lot of boxes, being poor, having bad grades etc. And at first Ben didn’t really mind all that much, given his lack of direction it was comforting to know that he’d be able to find a stable job to support his family, and that was exactly what seemed to be promised to him. He hadn’t yet gained a fervent desire to see the government crumble, the only part of it he hated being cops, who brushed his dads murder off like it didn’t matter. plus, the program offered extensive healthcare (a leftover enticement from when the program was optional), and it looked like the only way he’d be able to transition.

It wasn’t long, however, before it became increasingly apparent how insidious the program really was. For one thing, he was to be put into work (or training for whatever he will be assigned) at 18, meaning he’d have to leave high school with a sophomore level education. This was, of course, by design to keep the kids entering the workforce in that same workforce. When he was 17, he took a GOAT and got given two options: enter the police force or the US army. He didn't want to do absolutely either, but he picked the former, just because it seemed like his only shot to stay with his family. By the time he was 21, he’d become a detective, and before he could ever start to work on his own soil he was transferred to Chicago due to lack of workforce there.

And all over again, he’d been plucked out of what he knew and dunked somewhere else, and worse yet, he doesn’t even have anyone he knows to help him go through it. Most of the people at his station don’t really want anything to do with him, but he gets on with his job (his efficacy depending on whether or not he thinks hes doing the right thing), and quickly becomes the new hotshot ass hole there for his attention to detail, if not his actual ability to decipher motivations and piece things together. And this caught the attention of Nick Valentine.

Nick was the original hotshot ass hole ofc, and it was owed to this that Ben, despite being to be shown the ropes, that he didn’t partner with the new guy despite being the only person there who could have helped him out. Nick was very, very good at his job, and due to his insecurities he wasn’t about to stop being the best and give people the chance to realise he doesn't get better than how effective he is at his work. I won’t get into the root of his insecurities, but he genuinely believes that he would lose all respect and that if he ever stopped being a try hard people would lose all reason to bother with him at all, and all he wants is for others reach out and be a friend to him. hes dealing with a lot of the same loneliness Ben is, but so long as he doesn't lose the facade of being a fully functional adult with a good job and a ‘loving’ wife he wont have to introspect and face who he thinks he is deep down (i.e. a man incapable of loving his wife romantically because of some personality fault he cant comprehend of how to fix as opposed to him just being gay and having a lot of internalised homophobia).

It takes Ben and Nick both reaching the point where they snap under the weight of the world they live in and the people who occupy it for them to come together. Nick ended up actually asking to take Ben on as a partner, and it took a lot of the load off of emotionally crippling work (serving a government neither of them believed in but being wholly incapable of escaping it, status quo being almost the only thing keeping them in place as opposed to trying to physically escape what they're doing together) but better yet, for nick, Ben helped bring out a side of him that wasn’t so afraid to be known by others, and he started opening up to other people at the same time as growing closer to him. (I think its important to like.not that nick doesn't wholly rely on Ben for all of his self esteem etc Ben is just a positive impact who gives him a space where nick can learn for himself that his worth doesn't depend on other peoples perception of him.) Nick realises that a lot of his negative perception/jealousy/etc of Ben when they first met was because he saw a lot of himself in him, Nick was in more or less him when he started some 5 or so years ago, and Nick helps Ben out in the way he wished someone had been there for him because he cares a hell of a lot about him and wants him to have the best chance at things.

And they grow into better people and just at the pique of things, where Nick is enjoying not being in an abusive relationship and staying with Ben while he gets back on his feet, Ben gets drafted and is trained at first to become a power armored foot soldier (standing at nearly 6′6″ he’d be a monument of fuck you to the enemy) but do to his deliberately bad aim with weapons, hes instead trained to pilot a vertibird, where hes then shipped off to anchorage. its there that he goes MIA after going against orders with his co pilot to provide medical assistance to a group of people stranded off from communication he spotted in flight earlier. Ben ended up glad later on that he and his co pilot were shot down, because for all 25 hours he was left dying in the snow, it meant that he didn't have to justify him going against orders by bringing back Chinese soldiers who’d end up a lot worse for wear than him. By the time his KIA status was revoked (they weren’t about to announce the miracle of his survival before they knew he’d survive lol) he’d already had a funeral, which Nick had attended, because I write like everything's a soap opera. but yeafksf him dying and attending his funeral left nick in a lot of grief, because he’d thought he’d have forever with Ben to go slow with him into being in a relationship and now Nick thought he’d never get that chance. and when they meet back up after it all when Ben returns it’s romantically charged to say the least.

Obviously I haven’t been sticking entirely to lore with this but the lore presented in fallout 4 is fucking bullshit so. i hesitate to call this a fix but i need to put in this disclaimer before i start spouting off. hey how about instead of nicks fiance getting iced jenny lands was actually his partner once he transferred to Boston to be with his husband to be, and she was cruelly twisted against her own intentions to try and kill nick because Eddie winter put her family in jeopardy and Eddie doing this was a coordinated attack towards them both that hes not just powerful enough to get revenge he can do it in such a way that they cant even trust the people around them. And nick got his mind juices squeezed or brain scanned whatever because of the resulting trauma of being shot by his best friend jenny. and also ‘Shaun’ is Ben and Nicks kid Max and upon learning later as a gen 2 that his son is the leader of a great source of trauma for nick hes forced to introspect in ways that have more tangible effects because his ability to decide who he is as a man ties into immediate problems And nick doesn't have to focus on revenge disguised as justice because he has a responsibility to live in the here and now.

Thank you for this ask!! I hope that was coherent enough to understand kjdsf if you have any more questions about him or anything else I talked about I’d be flattered to hear them!

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #nick valentine #sole survivor #Benjamin Romara #Anonymous

33 notes · View notes

lisinfleur · 5 years

Text

Winds of Change - Part II

Author’s Notes | Here is the second part of Winds of Change for you guys! Hope you enjoy! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Christian Slave! Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by @paper-goonie and anon, queued for 5CW2, click for Part I Words | 4733 ⁑ Warnings: Faith conflict, Christianism, Heathenry, religious aspects abandon and denial

You saw things you thought you would never see in your entire life. From the enormous fleet of ships Ivar was commanding, to the waves in the open sea, every moment by his side was magical.

But the men around him were men.

The scowls of his ships were wooden made.

No demonic wind was blowing his sails...

They were just men. The Norsemen were just... Men.

Some of them using their so feared axes to cut wood for fire pits. Some of them shooting their terrible arrows with devilish precision to kill rabbits and hares for their dinner.

There were no horns in their helmets and the sickles some of them were holding were being used to cut leaves or rip roots from the ground to thicken the broth they were serving to them all alongside the meat and some bread.

Normal bread, made of wheat. Hare meat, rabbit meat, goat dry meat, no humans being roasted.

They sat around fire pits and laughed, drinking mead - and not blood - from his horns, telling stories in their language and passing the time before going back into their tents to sleep and continue the journey in the next morning.

They exchanged places in turns to keep the boats navigating day and night under the supervision of their own eyes with that strange stone and wooden circle in that bucket with water - no demon was guiding their boats.

And when the morning came after days and nights of travel, with the boats surrounded by beautiful green mountains, Ivar touched your shoulder, showing the enormous docks approaching.

"Welcome to Kattegat," he said "Or should I say Hell? Isn't it how you Christians name the lands that 'give birth to the Norse demons'?"

You heard his giggles, but it didn't bother you anymore. Not with so many wonders around to be seen.

A whole new culture, a whole new world. Your feet landed at the docks of that place and...

You saw nothing.

No fire rivers, no screams of horror and pain. Nothing but simple docks with a market, sellers screaming their products and prices, men finding their wives and kids.

There were kids there!

"Come, woman. For the gods' sake! I'm tired... I wanna go home," Ivar complained about the fact that, with his crutch and slow pace, he was already at the end of the docks near the land and you were still beside the boat, looking everything, fascinated with the common life you were finding around.

Their clothes were different, their products as well, but it was a common market you and Ivar crossed with some men and women around bowing their heads at him, saluting their king.

He walked until you reached an enormous hall with some fireplaces in the center of a large space similar to a church's principal hall in size, but completely different in decoration and tones.

The Great Hall, you thought. Now it made sense the times you heard about this place in his words.

Slaves closed the door behind him when the two of you got into that place and so, his entire body language changed, surprising you when you saw that impressive man suddenly became so tired; his large shoulders seemed to be carrying the weight of the world over them and he walked to a door behind the stage where a pair of thrones were placed: one of them made of black wood, covered with bird bones and some symbols you couldn't understand. The other, covered with a silky cloth, appearing to be unused.

You followed his steps discovering a hall behind the thrones stage that seemed to end in some kind of kitchen from where two women were bringing buckets with hot water to a door through which he walked in.

Behind it, a room. A bed of furs, a little lower than the common beds you were used, with chains hanging from the roof in one of its sides - probably his. Your mind made the math quickly, understanding he should use those chains as a support for his body to ease his work when getting up in the morning.

there was a nightstand on the other side of the bed where you saw a delicate jewel box, feminine, but appearing to be untouched.

Maybe his queen's thing? Where was she to receive him so?

You kept your mouth shut while he placed the crutch against the wall, heavily sitting at the bed with a long sigh, so tired...

"Come and help me with the leg guards," he ordered, remembering you were still his slave, his servant.

But it was something simple to do for him. You came near, going on your knees near him, unbuckling the metal buckles in between the iron parts of that heavy armor you had some difficult to place beside the bed.

As soon as you took the first heavy piece off his leg, he sighed again, this time, with a mix of relief and pain, cursing in that strange language you still didn't learn enough to know what he was cursing, but it was easy to notice it was a curse for his tone and frowned face.

Slowly, you removed all the pieces of that heavy armor around his legs and so, the shock took your expression one more time.

This time, causing him to frown his face annoyed.

"Never saw a cripple before, woman?" he asked, acid, moving to pull a fur over his leg in a movement you didn't let him finish.

"No!" you squeaked, holding his hand to prevent the fur to touch his body "You're wounded! Severely wounded! For the love of God, you're bleeding!!"

You knew he would be mad at you for the mention of the Christian God now that you were in his lands, but it was natural for you due to such shock. And you were so genuinely worried that Ivar simply ignored the expression, looking at you surprised to see that much of concern in your face.

"This is normal, (Y/N). It happens because of the friction, the buckles and..." he started explaining, but you cut him, really surprising him this time with the size of your concern about his wounds.

"How under the sky this can be normal, Ivar? This is not normal! This is terrible! Look at your legs!" you said, again, not noticing the tone you were using to your master.

He could whip you for this.

Instead, he kept looking at you while you were doing something no one was used to doing in years: your fingers softly touched his legs, slowly, carefully moving them to see the dimension of his wounds and where they were located.

Ivar decided to become silent, observing your ways towards him, while you got up taking the empty bucket one of the slaves had left near the giant stone bathtub he had in his room, picking some of the warm water from it and bringing it closer.

When the slave came into the room with more water to his bathtub, you looked at the woman.

"Do you understand me?" you said and the woman looked at you, surprised.

"Are you from England?" she asked.

However, you gave her no time to become surprised in finding someone of her lands. Instead, you touched her hands and looked at her face.

"Bring me clean pieces of cloth, some clean and warm pork fat and the herbs you have for healing wounds," you said, going back on your knees near his legs and looking at him.

Ivar was still observing, surprised.

"It may hurt you a l..."

"I know how it feels, (Y/N)," he said, cutting your explanation before you could start. "I was born a cripple and since I was born, my bones break like glass and I'm in constant pain. I know the pants are glued to my wounds. Just do what you need to do," he said, already prepared for the usual pain of peeling the thin cloth from his wounded skin to clean the wounds and treat them after the long travel.

However, the usual pain didn't come. Instead of peeling the cloth, you started wetting a piece of clean cloth in the warm water, slowly wetting his legs and pants, softening the dry blood that was gluing the wounds to the cloth and only then, carefully peeling the cloth of his pants from his legs, with almost no pain for him.

A surprise he wasn't expecting.

"Take them off. And cover your shame, please," you said, looking away for him to take his pants off.

For a second, Ivar thought about remaining naked for you to see, but you were being good to him. He took all his clothes off, covering only the intimate parts your people used to call that way as if it was shameful to have genitals.

"I'm ready," he stated, and so, you turned your eyes back on him, gasping at the sight of his naked torso, sculpted by the years of efforts, marked by the battles and few blades that had already touched him. But pretty more by the drawings that were spreading all over his skin, catching your eyes mesmerized by the traces over the color of his body.

"I suppose you never saw a tattooed man before," he said, with a cocky smile in his face.

"I never saw an uncovered man before," you answered him, blushing hardly and lowering your eyes "I... I must take care of your wounds and... Give me a second!" you said, getting up and away from him for a while, trying to focus on what you should do, mashing the herbs with the fat to make an ointment that would last longer in his wounds. "Will you take a bath or only clean your body?" you asked.

"I'll bath, obviously!" Ivar answered back and you looked at him. "It was a hell of a trip and I don't bath properly since we left England! Of course, I'll bath."

What kind of man would travel for days and not to bath?

"So... Take your bath... I'll wait for you to get clean as you want".

"You Christians are too strange," he started "I've heard you don't bath commonly. Some of you even bath once in their lives! This is so disgusting!"

His voice was sounding. You were hearing, but your eyes completely lost themselves when he got into the water, washing his torso, allowing you to see the drawings in his back - the same design of his chariot.

He looked back at you, due to your silence, and you quickly tried to take your eyes back to the ointment you were mixing. Your face burning red when you heard him dragging himself back to his bed.

"I'm dressed," he said, allowing you to look at him, seeing he dressed a loosen trouser to allow you to lift the cloth and expose his legs.

But his torso was still exposed, attracting your attention to the traces.

"They tell my story," he said, "See?" Ivar pointed his tattoo, showing you a boat scowl drawn in his shoulder, "This is the first travel I made with my father. The first... And the last. My father was killed and I was sent back home. Here..." he pointed the other when you sat by his side, looking attentively, causing him to smile at the way you were paying so much attention to his story, "This one is the boat that brought me to England with my brothers for vengeance to my father... When I defeated Aethelwulf in Repton making him a fool with my brothers by my side".

"The one in your back... Is the design of your chariot sign, isn't it?" you asked, like a curious child.

"Yes," he said, turning his back for you to see, "It remembers me from the day we conquered York for the first time and also became a memento from the other two times I defeated and fooled the Saxon army for that town".

"Is that true that your men came from down the earth to kill the Saxon soldiers inside the town?" You asked, and Ivar nodded, confirming.

"I found some Roman constructions under the town, galleries where I could place my army to fool the soldiers and make them believe we had left. It was a huge plan... Hvitserk, my older brother, became pissed off with me for days because I didn't tell him what I was planning until it was done".

The traces in his skin were beautiful and there was pride in his words. But also, you could feel sadness. A certain sorrow was covering every sentence in which he mentioned his brothers as if he was still hurt about that subject.

"Do you miss them?" you asked, looking at him.

Ivar looked at you and then, you saw he closed himself completely, looking away and cutting the subject.

"Take care of my wounds. I wanna sleep."

You took some distance, going back to your knees in front of his legs, caring for his wounds slowly and silently, observing the fact Ivar wasn't looking straight at you anymore.

When you finished covering the last wound with a bandage to keep the medicine over the wounds and allow him a comfortable night, you looked at him once again.

"I'm sorry... I didn't want to touch a delicate thing."

"How do you think I feel?" he answered, kinda aggressive "We made war for years! My family was shattered by old Christian Kings who killed my father for their unlimited ambition. Then, a murderous bitch that killed my beautiful mother for a damn crown. I killed my own brother with my bare hands after years hating each other. My older brother, who I thought loved me, refused to recognize my skills or seeing me as more than just a dangerous crippled. My other brother betrayed me for a Kingdom to himself and attacked me allied with Björn, forcing me to kill a second brother as if I didn't have blood enough in my hands! Now, the Gods charged me for the lives I took and my wife and unborn child are dead! How do you think I feel, woman? How do you fucking think I feel? Get out of my face! NOW!"

You dragged yourself back, stumbling in your own feet, hurting yourself when trying to get up, but managing to run through the door, closing it behind you and sliding through the wall beside the door, sobbing in a helpless cry of pure fear.

You could understand the way people talked about him now... Ivar, the Boneless, could be a man. But he was a dangerous man. And furious, he was really frightening.

Scared and alone, you embraced your knees, keeping your body warm. And the tiredness ended up causing you to sleep where you were, shrunk beside his door.

"Wake up, (Y/N)," you heard Ivar's voice and it caused you to almost jump from your place, noticing somehow you had laid down at the ground, still beside his door where he was now sitting at the ground with his back against the frame.

His head was slightly elevated, also touching the door frame; his eyes were facing the roof, strangely calm, but dove in sadness...

"My father took me to England with him in his last travel," he started speaking, literal and completely ignoring the fear in your body language.

A feeling that was disappearing the more he was talking and looking up, clearly holding the thin line of tears in his eyes you didn't question, not wanting him to deny.

"I thought he chose me, but the truth was no other son wanted to go with him to that suicide trip I took. And sometimes I think..." he giggled, bitter "Sometimes I think he didn't intend me to survive the shipwreck our boats suffered in the middle of that trip. Sometimes I feel I was supposed to drown as the many men we lost in that shit. So, he would kill the rest of the scourge that came with us only for the gold and then, he would be able to die knowing Kattegat would be clean..." he looked at you, sounding so hurt that your fear vanished completely and you came closer, noticing how he was messing with his gloves and talking nervously.

Distressed...

"But Imma fucking warrior!" he hit his own chest "Imma fucking survivor! I fucking passed through that shit and all that came after this. And so, something changed in his mind. Somehow, he stopped regretting I wasn't dead and understood why he failed the two times he tried to kill me: The gods wanted me alive. They made me strong. And he saw this strength."

His blue eyes looked at you and you saw the thin line of tears becoming thicker.

"My father saw my potential. He truly saw my strength! He saw who I am... And then I lost the only person who ever looked at me as more than just a cripple."

The line broke, and two stubborn drops rolled through his cheeks a long trail before he kept fighting the tears, cleaning his face, looking away from you as if he could hide his pain if you weren't looking straight into his eyes.

"I did what he said. I became ruthless and unpredictable. And I made them pay for underestimating me. But I didn't become stronger in their eyes." he shook his head, denying "I became dangerous. They realized they couldn't control me as they wanted and so, my brothers became even more distant. Ubbe started fearing me!" he giggled again, acid "As if I could kill him or Hvitserk at any moment. As if I planed the damn ax I sunk into Sigurd's chest. He took me out of control! It was his fault, not mine!" Ivar said, angry "But Ubbe started fearing me and it caused our rupture. He could never accept my leadership and he still doesn't believe I'm able to be a king. I'm sure he's just sealing this pact because he has no other choice. But when Hvitserk jumped his boat to stay with me, I thought he was doing it for love."

Slowly, you started realizing he was telling you the whole story and so, you came even closer, sitting right in front of him to hear his heavy words, clearly seeing he was fighting bravely the knot in his throat.

"I thought he had seen. I thought he could see how strong I was and it made me happy. I even started playing with him, but I guess I'm not that good with jokes as Ubbe was, for Hvitserk used to laugh when Ubbe was trying to push him into the river while they were fishing in our childhood. But he didn't laugh when I mocked his loyalty to Ubbe barking just because he used to follow our older brother like a dog. He was disconnected from me, always depressed, drunk and full of regret. But things became pretty clear when we found our older brother one more time, on the other side of the battlefield, betraying me one more time by fighting alongside the murderer of our mother I wanted to kill in order to avenge our beautiful mother and the awful way that woman killed her." Ivar scoffed, looking at you.

He was making a catharsis and you could see this. Everything needed to come out and somehow, you triggered the button that was making his feelings to come out.

"He looked at Ubbe all the time. Hvitserk didn't want to be by my side. He wanted to follow Ubbe once again, to go back to his precious brother. However, his choices were made and there was nothing he could do to change it. He started relating with people who were against my rule and when I sent him to Ringerike trying to spare him from the cleanse I had to do in my kingdom to avoid the resistance to grow too strong, he betrayed me and allied to King Olaf and posteriorly to Björn to attack my kingdom and take my crown from me. I had no other choice but fight. And in the fight, Björn ended up dead and Hvitserk was shoved back to Ringerike to take the crown of the fallen King Olaf who I also had to kill in that cursed battle."

He sighed and for a second you thought it was over. But his face became hardened again and you saw the worst was still to come.

"In the middle of all this, there was my beautiful Freydis..." he said her name for the first time since you two met.

And it sounded like the most painful thing he had to tell you.

"She was everything. She loved me, she believed in me, she was able to do anything I asked her to do. Anything. She used to say I was fated to huge things and the sons she would bear me would be with me forever..."

His voice became hoarser. The knot in his throat was becoming bigger.

"But unlike my brothers think, the gods didn't favor me. They hate me... And how do I know this? Because my beloved wife was pregnant with our first child. And the gods decided to smite my heart by taking her at his birth and giving him not more than a few minutes in my hands before he was also gone."

His voice failed and you touched his hands, approaching a little more, feeling he was about to break.

"Mother... Father... Sigurd... Ubbe... Björn... Hvitserk... Then Freydis and Baldur... They took everything from me! Everything! And now... I'm all alone. I am the damn king of Kattegat, but I'm fucking alone and it hurts!" he admitted, finally breaking in front of you, defeated by his own pain and anger.

You pulled him into your arms and after a certain resistance, he finally ceded, hiding his face against your neck and crying like a boy with his fingers pressing your clothes, tight.

"I miss them... I miss them all the time!" he said, answering your question from before, accepting being held into your arms you softly wrapped around his torso, keeping him embraced until his cry ceased and he wasn't sobbing anymore.

Silence took the entire place for a long time while he rested against your chest, silent. You slid your fingers through his face, softly. After a long moment, Ivar slowly pulled away from your body, looking down, sighing.

"Are you feeling a little better?" you asked, looking at him.

"It wasn't supposed to happen," he answered, messing with his gloves again "I came only to call you into the bedroom."

"But it came out. And that's not bad, master..."

"Ivar," he cut you, looking at your eyes "You're not a common slave. You're my personal servant. You are... closer," he said, dragging himself into the bedroom, towards the bed.

You closed the door behind you and sat in the bed, near his legs. He was still avoiding looking at you.

But you knew exactly why.

You could expose it. You could force him to say he bought a personal slave to supply his own loneliness. Instead, you touched his legs, straightening the bandage and looked at him, softly.

"Who's Baldur?" you asked, causing him to look at you, surprised with the abrupt change of the subject.

"What?" he asked, and you smiled, asking again.

"You said you named your child Baldur. Who's Baldur, originally? I remember you said there was a God with this name among the Norse Gods... Who's him?"

It was impossible to Ivar to deny what you were doing. You paid attention to his words, you memorized details, you noticed how much he liked to talk about the gods.

You were bringing him to a comfortable subject.

You weren't trying to question or humiliate him for the need you discovered so clearly.

You knew he was a lonely man. You knew he needed to buy someone to make him company. And instead of judging him or mocking him for this, you were trying to make him feel better.

You smiled at the silent understanding in his eyes and walked around the bed to sit closer to him, showing your interest, your curiosity that seemed to make him so interested.

"You said I should leave my stories behind. But you didn't tell me all of yours. I wanna learn more. Who's Baldur? And Freya? And at the boat, I heard they say your family is descendant from Odin itself, is it true? I wanna learn about you. I..." you stopped for a second, looking into his eyes before speaking that sentence "I wanna be closer... to you."

You could see the surprise in his face.

Other women in your place would laugh or mock on him for showing his weaknesses in front of her.

But not you.

"Would you teach me, Ivar?" you asked, softly saying his name that sounded so well, so warm in your voice to his ears. "Would you tell me how to become Viking?"

The imposing sound of the word in your voice caused him to giggle.

And it warmed your heart that you were making him laugh after such a sad moment. So, you continued, trying to make it become stronger.

"What? I want to learn more! You seem to have so much to tell me! Such a magical society! I wanna be Viking like you!"

He laughed this time. Such a delicate little thing like you wanting to be a Viking woman was funny to his eyes.

And Ivar had such a sweet laugh, so good to hear.

"Why are you laughing? Can't I be like you?" you asked, looking at him.

And so, he touched your chin, softly caressing your skin; his thumb sliding sweetly in your face, tracing your jawline.

His lips becoming a beautiful curve that made your heart to skip a beat.

"Yes. You can, sweet (Y/N). You can."

For a second, your eyes crossed with his and you felt your heart whole. You felt complete.

Somehow, Ivar's smile was everything you need to feel that way.

"Get yourself comfortable. This is gonna be a long story," he started, solicitous.

And you sat with the side of your body resting over a little pile of furs you made, looking at him with your entire attention.

Ivar started telling you who was Baldur and Odin, stories of his Gods and his people, becoming more and more excited the more you were asking and showing surprise, reacting to his little dramatic pauses and tones to tell you the stories. For long hours, he felt like teaching the child he never had, telling him the stories like Floki once did to himself. And it made him happy.

For the first time since he first left his homelands to raid with his father, Ivar felt what it was to be entirely happy and to forget completely the darkness and sadness into his heart.

The morning was high when you finally started to fight the sleepiness to keep hearing the story he was telling you. It was interesting, you wanted to hear it until the end, but your eyes were heavy and it was hard to keep them open.

Ivar smiled when he noticed your fight and you felt his hand touching your hair, caressing it softly, helping the sleepiness to become stronger.

"It's not fair..." you mumbled, "I wanna hear what happened to Idun..."

Your voice vanished slowly and Ivar smiled when you started snoring low, in a soft sleep by his side.

Since Freydis left him alone, no one had ever occupied that place in his bed. But somehow, you weren't hurting his heart like the idea used to do. He softly pulled the furs over your body and slid his body to lay by your side with his elbow against the furs supporting his head a little higher in his hand, from where he could watch you sleeping so serene by his side.

Maybe the Gods weren't so cruel, after all. Or maybe they thought he was punished enough. He caressed your face softly and sighed, closing his eyes with a smile.

Maybe the Gods were giving him another chance.

This time he wouldn't let it pass.

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langwrites · 5 years

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LUMINA, ARNO, AND NAVIYD DISCUSS SEX, SEXUALITY, AND FAILED MARRIAGES

Side note: All of the adult characters here are sort of in their mid/late twenties. Naviyd is the oldest, then Arno, then Lumina.

Khalil is about five-ish and Lumina is pregnant with the twins Alastair and Oriana.

Lumina’s office, despite its overladen shelves of books and comfortable furniture strewn all around, lay in complete disarray. The three occupants had long since pushed all the chairs and the meeting table against the walls and spread rugs, blankets, and pillows here and there, resulting in a wide, flat meeting space inside of another. Though the rest of the decorations were still hers, the arrangement was more like a comfortable gathering inside a desert-living Mishik tent than a Kaltekan solar.

The reason for this was lying sprawled on the floor, feet close to the fire to stave off the Gabilan winter chill, and under at least three blankets. He was facedown in the gap between two pillows, arms pillowing his head as he buried his face against the rug. He was probably breathing.

It had been six months since Zahara and Naviyd’s marriage dissolved into bitter recrimination and hate. She and little Mitra were long gone. Shadows, really. Memories.

Naviyd coped in cycles. The ups and downs ran long, but not so long that there was no pattern. Naviyd could stave off the worst extremes by distracting himself with hobbies—architecture, astronomy, horseback archery, and more. Whenever he had the time, at any rate; raising his son, even with Arno and Lumina’s help, often left him asleep on top of whatever flat surface he found first.

Tonight was a… night.

At least Khalil was asleep on Arno. Lumina might have volunteered her lap on any other evening, but the twins she was carrying seemed determined to eliminate it from existence. Khalil gave up on that refuge weeks ago, once he realized he couldn’t fit no matter how he contorted. Besides, sitting on Arno meant the five-year-old could grab all the tiny honey-cakes whenever he wished.

He still had sticky fingers wrapped around one last, uneaten crust. When he snuffled in his sleep, Arno had to keep his hand from applying the sugar to his face.

“At least you took your shoes off before doing this,” Lumina said, because there didn’t seem much else to say into the silence of her best friend’s sulk. She nudged his side experimentally, but Naviyd didn’t budge.

“What do you take me for, a barbarian? I have standards,” Naviyd grumped.

“Do tell,” Lumina said, raising one skeptical eyebrow.

He grumbled into the pillows and didn’t answer. So much for an articulate evening, though Lumina frankly hadn’t expected much. She’d just have to be patient and outlast his moping.

It didn’t take very long. Arno had just finished putting together a pot of tea—without disturbing the sleeping Khalil—when Naviyd finally said, “How did you know?”

“How did I know what?” Lumina responded. She’d been occupied by shifting the pillows around her to more adequately support her back and wasn’t in the mood for guessing games.

“Or, I suppose—when did you know we would not be together?”

Hardly clearer. “You and I, or you and her?”

“Both. Either.”

“Naviyd, as generous as you are, I would prefer not to share in your headache.” Lumina sighed, because it was already too late. The slight throb at her temples was bound to get worse as soon as she sat up properly, and cursing Naviyd for giving it to her was akin to closing gates after all the sheep were long gone.

“A burden shared is a burden halved,” said Arno, in the light, mild manner of someone paying no mind to the meat of the discussion. His attention was wholly occupied by trying to drape a blanket over Khalil without waking him.

Lumina threw a pillow at him before she could think better of it.

Arno caught it with his forehead, which meant it bounced off toward the bookshelves. With no beading, it neither left a mark nor made a sound. He shot a look at it over his shoulder, then said firmly to Lumina, “You will not be getting that back until you learn to treat it with respect.”

Lumina pursed her lips and tried to look dignified, knowing she’d fail even before Naviyd started snickering into his arms. Still, the tension in the room was neatly broken. She turned her attention to her best friend instead of her distracted husband, saying, “Did you want an answer to your question or to laugh at me?”

“Can’t it be both?” Naviyd wondered as he pushed himself up on his elbows, and mockingly quailed under her glare. “I surrender! Genuinely!”

Lumina held her glare for a split second longer, then snorted. There was no point in pretending to be angry. Still… “You had a question.”

“I did.” Naviyd sobered. He ran a scarred hand over his face and then his head in one neat sweep, which sent his curls into disarray. A few dropped far enough to block his left eye from view. As he settled again, he said, “You and I—I think, from the moment we met, neither of us were interested in the more physical pleasures. Unless I am wrong.”

“I almost split your skull with a spear. I should hope not.” But still, Lumina humored him. “No, you have the right of it. There is and was nothing between us. Inarguably less, then—we hated each other.”

“Perhaps ‘hate’ is a strong word. I thought you harmless, then reckless and dangerous together.” Naviyd shrugged, smiling faintly. “And then, later, admirable for your strength. Beauty came in a very distant fourth.”

“Rearrange the details several times, and you have my thoughts,” Lumina said. She rearranged the blankets next, covering her slightly swollen ankles. She was tall, and her twins carried low, but her center of balance was off and her joints knew it. “Apart from our friendship, none of it was beyond the bounds of my feelings toward any other man I’d met before.”

“Likewise,” Naviyd muttered. He rolled over with some difficulty, entangled in blankets and unable to quite complete the motion. Finally, he managed to get his shoulders flat against the floor, then went on, “Before meeting her, I never seriously contemplated taking a woman to bed.”

“And no men?” Arno asked, while pouring tea for each of the adults. Khalil could go without.

“No men,” Naviyd confirmed. He put both hands behind his head and said, “No one, really. Even when I was as grateful as I’d ever been to the both of you, for giving my life back to me when I’d assuredly lost it—no.”

Lumina eyed him. “So, your flirtations—”

“Sleeping with someone in a transactional sense is not difficult, especially for men,” Naviyd countered, “and the act itself is enjoyable, but that hardly makes it necessary. Most luxuries are the same, so…” He trailed off, gold-green eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “It never seemed important.”

Lumina and Arno both nodded along as he spoke. Since Arno went back to trying to pry the forgotten honey-cake from Khalil’s fingers, Lumina said, “I never felt I was denying myself anything. Did you?”

“No. I knew, broadly, that there were celibate orders and solemn vows for this or that,” Naviyd said. He sighed. “But I thought only that the people who took them were far too serious. It was like being asked to give up cream buns or peaches. Irritating in the moment, but otherwise easily ignored.”

Arno snorted with suppressed laughter, and Naviyd grinned at the joke landing where it was intended.

“You see? I can mock the entire edifice.” Naviyd’s expression settled into a smile, though faint. “Really, the amount of time people spend eroticizing food is just ridiculous. I can hardly help mocking it all.”

“I always thought of love as more… Oh, working together, appreciating each other,” Lumina cast about for an extra word, and ended up with, “raising a family. Love and being loved. I never especially thought of the process of making love as all that interesting once I understood what people meant. We raised pigs.” Her nose wrinkled and both of her companions laughed. Arno at least avoided the belly-laugh for which he was famous, which would have sent Khalil tumbling to the floor. “Hardly the subject of romantic poetry, but very educational.”

“Horses, for me,” Naviyd admitted, once he recovered.

“Goats,” said Arno. “And helping the nannies deliver many, many kids.”

Lumina covered her mouth to hide her laugh, but it failed. “The lessons of the farm are truly wide-reaching.”

“Best schoolroom I ever had,” Naviyd agreed, showing all his teeth. “Milking, too. Gods, we really are too practical for nobility. I can’t imagine what those would-be kings and queens think of us upjumped muck-rakers.”

“You needn’t wonder if you read more of my letters,” Lumina said, gesturing at the almost-forgotten desk at the far wall. “As is your supposed job.”

“I have yet to see a single wooden penny for it,” Naviyd sniped back. eHe threw his arms out, like an overturned turtle. “I cannot work under these conditions!”

“You live in my castle.”

“Which I designed and built!”

Arno laughed again, drawing their attention. “You two are quite the pair. A pair of thundersnows, perhaps.”

“Bright, flashy, loud, and unstable? What a compliment,” Naviyd replied snippily, but he was smiling still. “All lightning seeks the ground, Arno.”

“And I am as much earth as the mountain.” Arno tapped the stone floor—what was visible of it—with his knuckles. His hands, unlike Naviyd’s, were neat and unmarked. “Personally, Naviyd? Had you asked at the right moment, you might’ve been able to steal a kiss—but not my heart, I think.”

“I would hardly know what to do with it, besides frantically try to fit it back in your chest by force,” Naviyd said. He peered up at them, smile fading a bit. “Hearts are such slippery things.”

Lumina rolled her eyes. “It helps if you clean the blood off first.”

“And do what? Eat it?”

“Bait bears,” Arno suggested. Khalil drooled onto the blankets and rubbed his face, smearing honey despite Arno’s best efforts. He looked down with false dismay. “At least there are no more of the white beasts.”

“Would one of those eat someone?” Naviyd asked. He sounded morbidly curious.

“I’ve been told so.” Arno rolled one shoulder until it popped. “Back to the topic at hand, though. Or something like it.” He rubbed at his beard thoughtfully, then said, “Your wife.”

“No longer mine,” Naviyd corrected, more dull than defensive. He sighed. “Now, I can hardly name a thing I miss about her. My love died after hers—a single stroke instead of a thousand bleeding cuts. So she says.” He got one hand out from under his head and clenched a fist. Beneath them, the castle rumbled faintly. “I’ll never forgive her for taking Mitra from Khalil. They were born together. How could she tear them apart?”

“I don’t understand,” Lumina said, frowning.

“Call it a superstition. Twins—or triplets, even—ought not be separated by anything but fate or their own choices,” Naviyd said, shaking his head. “Had the two grown together and drifted apart like all siblings, I would not—I could be upset, but not like this. They come into the world together by the gods’ will. What they do with the bond is not for the hands of mortals.”

“Did Zahara know that?” Arno asked.

“I had hoped so,” Naviyd growled. “But what do I know of the Mishik who live and breathe Kaltekan influence? Less than I know of spite, apparently.”

Arno nudged Naviyd’s elbow with his foot. “Well? Out with it. What made her so angry that she would drive the knife in like that? Why would she spite the gods?”

“…It was my fault,” Naviyd admitted. His voice was low with shame. “I was just too thoughtless to understand before it was too late.”

Lumina and Arno exchanged looks, as long-standing friends could. Husband and wife were secondary roles. Then, Lumina said, “I can believe that. You have a long history of behavior that could anger any wife.”

“You could stand to develop some convenient forgetfulness.”

“Never.”

Naviyd sighed. “Fine, then. If you want the sordid detail, I suppose you can stand to hear it. You’re old enough.”

“I am four years younger than you are, old man.”

“Neither of you are thirty,” said Arno, “so kindly shut up.”

“It was slow,” Naviyd said, as though the other two hadn’t spoken. “I didn’t notice at first. Everything was so busy—the twins were born, we were still putting Gabilan together, the Tear was vomiting monsters all the damn time. I never did thank you for keeping me alive then, did I?”

“You did,” said Lumina. “But generally while half-asleep or very distracted.”

“Oh, good.” Naviyd nodded to himself, then went on, “And I didn’t—we came here with nothing but the clothes on our backs and your sister’s goodwill. And gold, I suppose, but you can hardly eat it when winter rolls in.”

“True,” said Lumina.

“But the difference was that I had you two. She had no one, because Lucky wouldn’t hear of leaving the capital or her…second? Whichever lover she’s on now, subtracting one.” Naviyd’s fist tightened. “No Ismene, who disappeared before the war was over. No Fiamma or anyone else. There were no Mishik besides us, even, until Keyah arrived. And Keyah does not count herself.” Naviyd blew out a harsh sigh. “She hated you, Lulu.”

Lumina frowned. “Because I was the one who chose to leave Celeste?”

“Because I followed you,” Naviyd corrected, “and separated her from everyone who made any sense to her.”

“Then she should have left you,” said Arno, quite sensibly.

Naviyd’s laugh was bitter. “She should have.”

Arno frowned at the agreement. He patted Khalil’s curls, even as he said, “It sounds to me like Zahara would have been happier somewhere else. As much as I love your children, no woman ought to put love—even capped by great sex—before her happiness.”

“So, that was a poor start. I still thought you were both very much in love,” Lumina pointed out, folding her hands over her stomach. If she pressed, she could almost feel the two heartbeats under hers. If she didn’t, she’d still be kicked in the kidneys on occasion.

“We were,” Naviyd readily agreed. “Caught up in each other. In being in love, I suppose. Passionate lovers, numb to all else.”

It was all gone and dead now, but Lumina remembered that first year or so. The two of them had been wild during the early days of their marriage.

“But none of it changed how little she talked to anyone besides me. She needed more,” Naviyd said. “And I could never give that to her. Nor could you, Lulu.”

Lumina shook her head slowly. “I…never did like her.”

Truth be told, Lumina’s unsociable nature never made her many friends, and Zahara shouldn’t have been forced to fight her way through that barrier at all. There ought to have been other options. Gabilan’s steady trickle of veterans, mages, and old soldiers hadn’t arrived then. Luxana was always better at the bright smiles and smooth words, even if she didn’t feel them. Even if she couldn’t spare any for her twin sister.

“Oh, she knew. We argued about you. Not at first, but later.” Naviyd scrubbed at his face again. “But, again, I spent almost all day with you, or Arno, or whoever else needed something when no one could be in three places at once. We were a triad, were we not? Corners to a triangle, lending stability everywhere we went.”

Lumina frowned again. “Yes…?”

“And then she carried the twins, and things were different.” Naviyd’s eyes gleamed faintly in the firelight. “She and I were always together. Prying me from her side would take a pickaxe, and I would fight the entire way. We were starting a family of our own! How could anyone not be as excited as we were?”

“I trusted children more than you with tools during those days,” Lumina agreed. “I remember.”

Arno’s silly little smile was fond. “You learned to play the lute for her.”

“And she laughed at me! Often. I was never good. My best songs are shouted.” Naviyd’s face softened with the memory. “Scouring the land for whatever she craved. Not well, but I found those godsdamned olives all the same.”

“Too bad she hated the pickled kind,” Arno put in.

“You don’t, though, so I call it a success.” Naviyd shrugged. “And the twins were born, and everything was perfect.”

Lumina thought back to the comment about Zahara’s hatred and had a guess where the story would lead. Nowhere good.

“But… After the flurry of the first two years—infancy, toddling, and then Khalil learning to speak—work demanded more. And I could hardly say no to more responsibility. If I turned you down, you would have had to deal with all of Lucky’s demands after her ascension…” Naviyd pinched the bridge of his nose. “And the ones after. I think this would-be emperor might actually last. Radovan can hardly kill someone when exiled to the frozen nethers of the world.”

“Personally,” Lumina put in. “Or for a second time, come to that.”

“He might try.” Arno didn’t look happy about the idea.

“And so, four years.” Naviyd reached out with one hand and grasped Lumina’s. “And all the venom came out in one burst.”

“Naviyd?”

“A thousand slights. A thousand missed moments. How many times did I turn her away because I’d been run ragged by the demands of governing a province? How many times did I come to you instead, because we worked shoulder to shoulder in everything?” Naviyd squeezed her hand. “By the end, she thought the only reason I was here—the only reason I’d trap her here—was because of you, Lulu.”

“She thought I’d stolen your heart from her,” Lumina concluded grimly.

“And so she’d tear mine out.” Naviyd closed his eyes. “If I’d been a better husband, I could have seen it and soothed her. I could have done so many things differently. But here we are. When she realized she could threaten me all she liked, and I’d not budge, she broke us both. Seemed…right.”

Lumina said, after letting the statement sink in, “She threatened to slit you open from navel to nosering in front of twenty witnesses.”

“And that failed. How about that.” Naviyd huffed. “Besides, divorce is supposed to involve at least three witnesses, a threat of violence, and at least one god. She got it over with quickly.”

“Did she really?” What little she knew of Zahara’s movements since leaving Gabilan did not paint a lovely picture. She seemed to spend more time with her rising band of pirates than with any child. It was more in line with those last few, bitter days than the years before.

Naviyd couldn’t know if Mitra was even still alive.

“No. But publicly, yes.”

Lumina frowned. “And the twins?”

Naviyd grimaced and tried to pull away, but Lumina’s grip was too strong to escape. “She’d have been within her rights to take both. She’s their mother. But…”

“Come on, up,” Lumina insisted, hauling Naviyd upright with leverage and her uncanny strength, present even with her twins weighing her down.

Naviyd grumbled, but it stopped when Arno handed over both a teacup—somewhat neglected and now lukewarm—as well as the fur-covered bundle containing Naviyd’s sleeping son. All bitterness bled out of him faster than winter ice melted in the sun. He stroked his son’s face with the back of one hand, eyes downcast. “I should have fought.”

“Could you have?”

“I don’t know. Could have destroyed us, possibly.” He tucked Khalil against his chest, where the boy snuffled in his sleep. Lumina didn’t even want to think of the possibility of two masters of mind magic deciding to murder each other inside of a city. Legal recourse wouldn’t matter. Everyone would claw their own eyes out. “Khalil will chase Mitra as far as his legs will take him. It won’t happen soon if the gods are kind, but it will happen. I could never stop him.”

Lumina stored those words in a chest in her heart. Though she didn’t know when, Naviyd’s tone made it clear this prediction was as close to truth as he considered possible. For a Mishik, he generally put little stock in most of the religious practices—barring swearing by and at their gods—but this sounded as real as the power crawling beneath their skin.

“Sky-Mother above, I would keep him safe here forever if I could.” Naviyd nearly bent double so he could rest his cheek atop Khalil’s head. His son drooled on, undisturbed. “But…”

“He would climb the walls and drive us all to drink,” Arno suggested, but fondly. The first children born in this castle could only inspire fond feelings, even if they were the kind of avatars of chaos Khalil aspired to be.

“Neither of you can crawl into a bottle until I can join you,” Lumina told them. Lumina scooted across the floor with neither dignity nor ease, but managed to reach Naviyd and Khalil in decent time. “And it is well past this little one’s bedtime.”

“And not a drop of coffee,” Naviyd said. He caught Lumina’s eye, then added, “Not that I need it.” He sipped at his tea instead, which was herbal and not likely to keep him awake.

“So defensive,” said Arno. He got to his feet with only the slightest delay, as though his legs were numb. “I can put him to bed if you like.”

“No, no. I have him. He should stay with us tonight.” Naviyd set the teacup near the fire instead of within kicking distance. He coiled around Khalil and started shifting blankets, then settled on his side. Before he fully considered himself comfortable, he wedged himself up on his hand and said, “Lulu?”

Lumina nudged him with her foot as Arno picked up his entire pile of pillows and started transferring them to her side of the fire. “I can handle myself, Naviyd. Even when I cannot see my feet while standing.”

“I imagine you will never miss this part of the experience, even after the twins are as old as Khalil is and causing trouble. Speaking of, do they have names yet? I have ideas,” Naviyd remarked. His head dropped to the pillow beneath it almost on its own, and his voice came out a little muffled as he added, “Not that I want to impose.”

“No, Naviyd. Not until they’re ten days old,” Arno said. There was a hitch at the back of his voice, just barely audible as he curled into Lumina’s waiting arms. “I wouldn’t risk it.”

Black brows pulled together in a frown. “Why?”

“It is as bad luck as separating twins.” Arno hooked his arm around Lumina’s shoulders. Standing, he was shorter than she was, but lying down made no difference. “No names until we know their spirits are settled.”

Naviyd made a thoughtful noise, but it was clear he had no more interest in diving into cultural differences tonight.

“Sleep well,” was the wish around the solar, even with no beds to be found.

Khalil started snoring just as Lumina finally relaxed enough to sleep.

#terramir gang #lumina #naviyd #arno #khalil #my ocs

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kryptsune · 5 years

Photo

In this world, it is hunt or be hunted~

(I apologize for the pic quality so I will write what they are saying this was a response to the, What do you think about Fellswap question from before.)

C: “I am sorry did you happen to mention us? But of course, she had a soft spot for us. We are Fells you know~” G: “Kitten’s been workin on our debut, ya can call me Grimm.”

C: “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Crimson~.”

🌼Ok! Here we go! A few people asked me about Fellswap or SwapFell which understandably so I think by now everyone here knows my love for anything with Fell tacked onto the back of it. Secret discussion though that I adore Fellswap Papyrus and Sans so I had to make my own! As always I have rewritten the entire verse to have my own personal touch to it! I will just describe the main ideas and maybe some key character details in the process! Hope you all enjoy and if you would like to see more of these boys let me know!

The Surface:

I want to talk about the humans on the surface first to kind of set the stage for what this AU is going to be based upon. The surface has been overrun by corrupt leaders. It is very much the concept of big brother. If you are seen as a threat you will be immediately thrown into “prison” without a trial. They hold occasional public trials in the guise of being fair. Just as WTU claims, the very concept of magic is a threat to them so those that have it are quickly disposed of but leaders don’t always do the dirty work themselves. No. In fact, they use another source by means of execution...the monsters.

More accurately it is very similar to the idea of throwing your enemies into a kind of gladiatorial arena. It is not technically considered an execution if circumstances lead to death. The humans are not stupid they know what is going on. Some believe in rebellion against the state and some wonder if the monsters could fix their corrupt world. Either way, the corruption continues and they are not above tossing innocents into “the pit” if it suits their agenda. “The Pit” (aka the Underworld/Underground):

The underworld is broken up into different factions by location. The only location without a faction or any type of ruler is The Ruins, because of its size and its isolation this is where humans try to reach for some form of Salvation. Asgore, the caretaker, has made it into an encampment for those that have fallen (the innocent ones). It is almost like a refugee camp only unfortunately very few make it to Asgore’s safe haven. He does his best. Poor goat dad. He is not like canon Toriel however as he will use violence if necessary as he knows that the humans are simply using them as tools to get rid of who they deem criminal. There are signs of old campfires, broken tents, and habitation.

Before The Ruins is, of course, the main factions. I know a lot of creators tend to swap location names and since Snowdin is the beginning and my boy Crimson is one of the most powerful in the Underworld I am going to as well. Here is the list. Snowdin=Magmire, Waterfall=Windyspires, Hotland=Tundra. The Underworld is also backward to some extent. The humans end up trapped in The Capital instead and they have to make their way to The Ruins to escape. So it would go like this: The Capital -> Tundra ->Windyspires ->Magmire. The closer the faction to the capital the higher the rank in other words because both Grimm and Crimson live in Tundra and he is the lord of it he is one of the most notorious.

“It’s Hunt or be Hunted”:

The modo of this verse. Why? Well after so many centuries of humans being disposed of by monsters they become horribly bored. It also adds fuel to Queen Toriel’s fire that one of the humans that fell down the first time killed her son (;~; RIP my precious boy). That is when they realized that humans weren’t just falling into the Underworld they were not only throwing them down to them but also throwing the worst of the worst.

At first, they just capture them hold them in the Capitals network of catacombs but then some began to escape causing damage across their “new home” Toriel wouldn’t allow it. Very much later it turns into a game of cat and mouse. The humans are detained and released and the monsters hunt them down. It used to be a protection thing but now it’s become a sick twisted death game. The forests of Tundra are littered with traps and deadly pitfalls along with the rest of the locations.

Each faction has a lord or lady that rules over it. The ones loyal to Toriel’s (As a side note she is known as the ice queen) regime and their supposed way of life. This also means the closest ones receive the most benefits. Tundra is the one with the most prestige and of course other monsters are trying to stip that title from its current holder, The Crimson Lord. Due to Crimson’s loyalty, he is almost exempt from any wrongdoing in the Queens' eyes which means he can do pretty much anything he wants. Which is dangerous and I will explain why in a bit.

I have a faction ruler list sitting here so I am going to add that to this as well. They are as follows, of course, this does not account for potential power struggles during the story: Tundra -> Lord: Crimson, Lady: N/A

Windyspires -> Lord? (I mean she wouldn’t want to be called a lady SHE IS TOO TOUGH FOR THAT!): Alphys, Lady: Undyne

Magmire->Lord: Grillby, Lady: Muffet

Some of the lords or ladies will keep humans as servants and things of that nature if they are able to be on their captor's good side. Some live good lives but others just become slaves essentially. It’s not a common occurrence in this I just wanted to make a note of it.

The Brothers Grimm:

Let’s get to the main event here. The two boys this post is showing. My Fellswap Sans and Paprus. Now I honestly was not planning to do them but I just. I love the puppy boi and I adore @cocofinny , @bis-cvit , @skesgo , @imjustalazycat and so many other interpretations of him. This... is mine. Sans name is Crimson, or the Crimson Lord and Papyrus is Grimm. I chose those names because originally I wanted a vampire and werewolf dynamic between the two and I think that still shines through. (I ain’t changin it~) Crim is the regal sophisticated seducer and Grimm is the wild possessive flirty type.

Let’s talk about Grimm. Grimm is the wilder of the two brothers and is very much a predator type. His name is derived from the mythos of the Grimm or Black dog. I wanted to keep that dark omen symbology in both his name and design. He slinks around in the shadows so that the black dog aspect is not far off. He also loves watching from trees so if you see a shadow over you, whoops. He enjoys the catching and hunting aspect of his job and even plays around with his “toys” (I know how that sounds) when he finds them. He will specifically call anyone “chew toy” in a mocking kind of way. That does not mean though that he will not spare you if he catches you. He is naturally curious by things. Fun fact he has a little skele tail too. Unlike his brother, Grimm doesn’t really have an ego he just finds his job fun. HE IS A GIANT PUPPY BOI WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

He admires his brother but he is not bound to his brother. In other words no master, dog nonsense. He is, however, the more accepting of the two. If he is asked to do something he doesn’t like then he most likely won’t. Also just because he has the whole puppy thing going on doesn’t mean he isn’t smart and cunning. Again he likes to play around with those he finds sometimes not even dragging them back to his brother for a while. If you are a threat he will kill you but if you’re not you can probably get on his good side. If he thinks you are cute he will probably flirt with you too. He is not beyond that. He plays the part of the dog quite well though well all know that there is more to him then that as is any Sans archetype.

Crimson is more sophisticated. He doesn’t go out on “hunts” himself often as he has a faction to rule over but those brought to him will see first hand that he is an insufferable flirt. He also has a bad habit of keeping mementos from those he deems worthy (what those are... you don’t want to know). He is stern with his brother and seems very outwardly cold to most unless he is playing up his charm. He is not someone you want to make angry as Toriel considers him to also be the Bloody Lord. His weapon of choice is a scythe so if that doesn’t give the executioner vibe then I have no idea what will. His drinks of choice are red wine and champagne specifically the pink kind. Have to keep up that pink/ red aesthetic. Crimson’s incisor teeth also have that vampire point to them. They are longer than the rest of them (You can’t see it here since I decided to edit this prior to writing this up). There is far more to Crimson than just this as their backstories dictate but I wanted to give a general feel for what they are both like.

Is there a story?

Yes, there is. I will make it relatively short since this post is already massive in size. In my version, there are two siblings that fall into this world both twins. One is Frisk and the other is Chara. Since this is a swap, Frisk is more aggressive of the two and highly protective of her sister. Chara is the sweet and kind one that will abstain from any violence at all. Now Frisk in this is not the usual Chara swap because I want them to find their place amongst the world. Frisk has no problem using violence as a means of protection and self-defense but she won’t actively look for a fight.

Why are they here you ask? Well, sadly they have magic within their souls hence the soul traits. They both also have the same soul outwardly, Determination, however, there is one other trait that is housed within their soul that makes them very different. Frisk’s is perseverance and Chara’s is kindness. As usual, the leaders of the Ebott Empire are threatened by their potential for magical abilities and as such are sentenced to be executed. Thus they become part of the hunt.

Guess who runs into them? Frisk is the first to be captured by none other than Crimson and Chara is found by Grimm. It is strange that Crimson is not his usual self in their circumstances as he can tell, unlike so many others that they have captured in the past, that they are very different. Grimm can’t bring himself to harm Chara due to her innocence and Crimson enjoys Frisks headstrong and sassy attitude. In other words *slaps hands on table* you get a two for one. One Papyrus X Chara and one Frisk X Sans. They are adults by the way.

Eventually much to Crimson’s reluctance they decide to help them escape as unlike most of the AU the monsters have no problem staying this way. Not all of them agree but the Lords certainly love their titles and don’t want to give up that power...that is until Frisk mentions that all those horrible corrupted humans on the surface could be like one giant... hunt. In which case Crimson is alll for so is Grimm but he is not dying to get to the surface.

They make it to Asgore (who has all the souls btw the barrier is in The Ruins) who tries to get them to stay instead of sacrificing one of them for their freedom. It’s obvious that the brothers actually don’t want either of them to die.

As Crimson says: “What is another century or two? We have all the time in the world.”

Frisk and Chara become integrated into the Underworld and though Grimm continues his hunting he doesn’t want Chara to witness it. Crimson just has Frisk as his little huntress. It is unclear if they will make it out of the Underworld in this AU. It really depends upon how I feel the story would make the most sense and I think having the two sisters happy with and accepted into their lives is all they really wanted. They were considered “monsters” on the surface so why return there? (unless to watch it burn... of course).

I have a lot more for this AU so feel free to drop any questions you may have in my ask box! I know this is a huge post so I really appreciate you all sticking with me if you made it this far! I really have enjoyed making my own FS for what I am now tagging Friskys multiverse! Have a great Tuesday everyone!

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK WITHOUT MY PERMISSION IT IS NOT FOR YOUR USE. IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE REBLOG INSTEAD! It helps me so much! It makes such a difference.💙

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