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roseskiesandbutterflies · 3 years

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Le Démon Déchu - Chapter 2: Réponses Et Plus De Questions

Summary: The summary is kind of long so please check a previous part or my masterlist if you want to read it.

Warning(s): threat, swearing

Word Count: 6.8k+

Inspiration: Do You Know What Eternity Is? by Elderly_Worm on AO3, Great Omens (The Big One) by falsepremise on AO3, Pray For Us, Icarus series by Atalan on AO3, Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm on AO3, wasteland, baby by john1513 on AO3, Not of Us by ShesAKillerQueen98 on AO3, How to Win a Lifetime Achievement Award for Services to Television (and how not to) by GaryOldman on AO3, Doctor Who (don’t ask) and, of course, Good Omens itself

A/N: Okay I took a bit of a hiatus from writing literally anything for about five months so sorry about that but I’m back now!! That’s the main thing. Also, I’ve left high school now which is very exciting! That does mean I’ll have so much more time to write and I’m definitely going to try and use this summer to establish some kind of routine for writing so that when I start college, I won’t get too overwhelmed with both my studies and with updating my fics. That’s the plan anyway so don’t hold me to that lmao. With any luck, now I’ve actually said that it’ll have to happen. (I wrote that part of this note back in May when it was the start of the summer. It is currently September and I’m just about to finally publish this chapter and I assure you, I am cringing at my own optimism.) Sorry this took so long to post. This chapter has been in the works since May (yes, I know I’m terrible) but I actually got a lot more writing done in that time that what you just see in this chapter. All will be revealed soon. I just promise that I have been productive. Once you’ve read this chapter, you have my blessing to translate the title of this fic. Hopefully it will make sense.

I just wanted to point out something about the playlist I linked in the previous chapter. I am well aware that there are some rather problematic people in it, namely Sia. I want you all to know that I don’t support her in any way (I don’t like her at all I think she’s a complete ableist twat). Her songs are only on there because of how well they fit with the story (a lot of this will become clearer as the story goes on).

I also wanted to point out that I know that if angels do exist, then their true forms probably wouldn’t look anything like humans. I’m well aware of that, I’m not an idiot, I don’t know if any of you remember when people started googling ‘angel true form’ and some people got scared lmao. The point is, we’ve all seen the pictures. But for the purpose of this story, and honestly just to make it easier for me to describe what the characters are doing, we’re going to have to pretend that they did look like humans. Can I claim creative license with this one? Maybe it got lost in translation because there is probably no way someone could describe how an angel truly looks in any human language? I don’t know, just roll with it.I know that this chapter had so much exposition and explanation in it but I can promise you two things. One, there is still much to be revealed. Two, I promise this isn’t just bad writing on my part. Just trust that I needed to put this all in this early on.

And how is everyone doing after the season 2 announcement? I mean, at the time of writing this specific part of my notes, it only got announced about an hour ago lmao. I’m very fucking excited, oh my god. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found out I can’t lie. Catch me trying to finish this before it comes out in case things occur which means I have to change things in this story. I can’t be arsed for that. Oh well. Hopefully it’ll read like those Sherlock fics that people wrote in between series 2 and series 3 if that doesn’t happen.

Taglist: @briarrose26

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Hermit (upright) + Five of Wands (upright)

Conflict. Reflection. Resurfacing memories.

************

Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.

We know who our enemies are. We know.

– Richard Siken (Detail of the Fire)

************

“Fuck.”

The angel and demon exchanged glances of what could only be described as thinly veiled panic, while the woman in front of them just looked annoyed at the most.

“They couldn’t wait five minutes, could they?” she muttered, pinching at the bridge of her nose in frustration before standing up again, “Look, just stay down here, I’m gonna go sort this out. With any luck they won’t have actually realised you’re here too.”

“Wait, how do you know they’re here for you?” Crowley asked, suddenly curious as to what business Eloise might have with Heaven.

“Just a gut feeling,” she said before making her way to the spiral staircase behind them, muttering to herself, “If they were here for you, I feel like they would have at least used the front door.”

The other two waited until she’d run upstairs before exchanging a quick glance, an unspoken word, and following her up.

Meanwhile, Eloise was hovering outside a room at the end of the corridor which she could only assume was the bedroom. She was strangely hesitant, not out of fear of them, simply out of fear of the unknown. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in that room for millennia, and something told her that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. She took a deep breath, even though she technically didn’t need it, letting a wave of faux confidence wash over her, and stepped inside. Don’t crumble now. You’ve come too far to crumble now.

“Ah, Mariel, long time no see,” Gabriel smiled coldly, brushing the dust off his white suit. Flanked by two other angels, he stood in the wreckage of the bedroom without even acknowledging the damage they must have caused when they crashed in. Beside him were Beelzebub and Hastur, who both looked as though they had been dragged kicking and screaming to come here. Beelzebub in particular kept shooting metaphorical daggers at Gabriel, who remained perfectly oblivious. The entire ceiling had caved in from the impact of their crash, the setting sun painting the doorway where Eloise stood in a pale gold and casting a dark shadow over the others.

She’d grimaced at the use of her old name; it was too unfamiliar, too ancient. Mariel was the name of a long-dead version of herself. Once upon a time, she’d embraced it, but that was once upon a time. Once upon a time long gone.

“Almost like I’ve been avoiding you on purpose,” she muttered, leaning against the doorway as she stared intrusively at each person in the room, observing, assessing. She silently revelled in the blatant discomfort in each of their faces.

“No need to be so rude,” Gabriel said, doing anything to avoid her eyes, his previous confident façade now shattered.

Eloise stared at him in disbelief, “What exactly were you expecting? A fucking welcome party? I haven’t seen any of you in over six thousand years and you just crash through the roof of my house, unannounced and uninvited, so yeah, forgive me for being a little irritated.” She couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. She’d barely been in Aziraphale’s bookshop for fifteen minutes and she was already pretending she owned it.

She watched smugly as he squirmed under her gaze, desperately looking to the others to say something in response. A moment or two passed before Beelzebub’s head suddenly snapped up in confusion, “Are you alone?”

Shit. She’d hoped that they wouldn’t have noticed the presence of the two who were definitely not downstairs like she’d asked. She swallowed, trying not to let any kind of emotion show on her face, trying not to give the game up that quickly, “Yeah, I live on my own.” She watched the whole group of them squint in concentration, trying to sense any other beings in the house. She sighed, changing the subject before they could comment on it any further, “Look, what do you want? I don’t have all day so if you could make it quick then that would be much appreciated.”

Gabriel looked back at her, his suave exterior unfortunately making a return, “Hey, we just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re doing-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she snapped. She pushed herself off from the doorway, stalking towards the others, “You have had six thousand years to ‘check up on me’, don’t pretend you’ve only started to care now.”

She was met with only silence as Gabriel and Beelzebub glanced at each other awkwardly, looking very much like chastised children. Suddenly the latter groaned and cried, “You can’t just leave Hell!”

“Oh, here we go,” Eloise muttered, rolling her eyes, bored already.

“You can’t! You Fell from Heaven, so you go to Hell, there isn’t a third option!”

“Well, apparently there is,” she shrugged.

“No there isn’t!” they argued, face screwed up like a petulant child.

“Then what do you call this then?” she asked, unfolding her wings for the second time that day. She studied their reactions closely, scrutinising coal-black eyes piercing through their very souls. She was searching for any hint of shock, of recognition, of anything that could clue her in as to what was going on in their heads at that moment. All she could find, however, was pure, unadulterated confusion. Which was annoying when her wings were supposed to be an answer to their unasked questions.

Gabriel stumbled over his words, “Good Lord, how did you even-”

Eloise cut him off curtly, no longer having the patience to listen to his incoherent mumbles. She instead turned to Beelzebub who at least had the decency to look a little more composed, “That would be what you could sense then. I’ve got both Heaven and Hell in me, that’s a lot of energy to pick up on.” She stared right through them, daring them to say anything else.

“Must be,” they replied slowly, though they didn’t look at all convinced.

Gabriel held up a hand, his eyes darting about as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing, “No hold on, how did you even manage that?”

“I left Hell,” Eloise said simply, “Why should I have black wings? I’m not some demon who ran away from everything. I left. Permanently. I looked Hell in the eye and walked away. You know what? Fuck it, I looked Satan in the eyes and walked away.”

“You what?” he stuttered.

“Yeah, you heard me. You have a problem with me leaving Hell then go on! Take that up with the bloody devil,” she said, staring them down, daring them to retaliate. She smirked when she was met with pure, uncomfortable silence, “Except you won’t, will you? Because you don’t actually give two fucks about me. Just like I said, if you did then you would have chased me up a long time ago. Quite frankly, I think you must have been glad to have me out of your hair,” she sighed, half sad, half amused when they couldn’t even meet her eye. She paused for a moment, wondering how far she could push this, before asking, “You know what I think is really going on here? I think the pair of you are feeling a bit bruised after the absolute shitshow that was Armageddon last year, which, by the way, fucking hilarious. I think your egos are feeling a little sore after a literal child stopped you from ending the world, so you’re thinking ‘hmm, what would be an easy win so that we don’t feel like total shit? Oh yeah, what about that demon who ran away all that time ago? That should be easy to sort out.’. Well, love to disappoint, but you’re not getting me that easily, especially when not a single one of us actually wants me back, and Sandalphon, take one more step further I swear I will dropkick you back to Heaven,” she snapped, glaring at the angel who had been menacingly inching closer while she had been talking. He reluctantly stepped back alongside Gabriel, looking a little more than miffed that his plan hadn’t worked out. “You really want me back? Get your bosses to talk to me because I don’t actually see why it’s any of your business. No middle men. Just God, Satan and me. I’ll see what they have to say about all this. Questions?” she asked, tone snapping from one extreme to another, almost as if she had just been possessed.

Gabriel stared at her, mouth gaping like a fish, “You can’t just boss us around like that.”

“What? Like how you bossed us around all those years?” she replied without missing a beat, real rage, real danger seeping into her voice now, “I think we’re done here.”

“But-”

“I said, I think we’re done here,” she said, leaving no room for arguments. She gestured to the sorry excuse for a room around them, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind cleaning this up.”

“Why can’t you do it? You can miracle things too,” Gabriel said, desperate for any kind of leverage over Eloise.

“You’re right, I could, but I didn’t make this mess, and I personally believe that you should face the consequences of your actions, Gabriel,” she said pointedly, watching as he visibly gulped. In a matter of seconds, the room was restored to its original state and Eloise was left alone in the room, no indicators that she was ever with any other people remaining.

She sighed and all but collapsed into a chair that may or may not have existed a few moments ago, confident façade shattered completely. She breathed heavily in exhaustion, as if she’d just run a marathon; she supposed she had just run a mental one. Her emotions were bugging her to no end. It was strange. She wasn’t scared, per se. There was very little that Gabriel or Beelzebub could do to her that would frighten her anymore. She tried her best to compose herself, writing off the tsunami inside her mind as just plain old adrenaline, before calling out, “You can come in now. I know you guys are outside, it’s okay, you can come in.”

Crowley and Aziraphale walked into the room, one looking considerably more sheepish than the other. Aziraphale perched awkwardly on the freshly reconstructed bed, “We’re sorry–”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, we’re not.”

Eloise and Crowley exchanged a glance, amused looks on both of their faces while Aziraphale simply looked distressed. Eloise turned back to him and smiled sympathetically, “I told you, it’s fine. I would have done the same,” she admitted, looking away before collecting herself once again, “So, I’m guessing you have a lot of questions–”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Crowley muttered as he took a seat beside Aziraphale, although it was a very loose definition of ‘taking a seat’.

Aziraphale glared at him while Eloise just sighed and reluctantly said, “I think it might be better if I just show you.”

Crowley cocked his head in confusion, “Show us what?”

She brought her chair closer to the edge of the bed and put out her hands, “Take my hands. Brace yourselves.”

Mariel was standing before a crowd of angels, dozens upon dozens of disgusted faces staring right at her. She couldn’t quite remember getting there. She had been in the pitch-dark holding cell and the next thing she knew, she was here. Blinding white light surrounded them, harshly illuminating her vulnerabilities before all of Heaven. She tried her best to keep her chin up even though she absolutely hated the fact that they could see the bruises from when she had been arrested that were now blooming on her face. She frowned as she noticed the lack of measures preventing her from escaping. All that was keeping her there was Gabriel’s presence at her side, cold violet eyes pointedly ignoring her. He really was an arrogant bastard for assuming that she wouldn’t even try to make a run for it. Just because he was right this one time, it didn’t mean that he shouldn’t have come prepared. Mariel sighed and looked up at the angels staring down at her. Michael was sat higher than everyone in the centre of the crowd, face void of all emotion as she said, “The Principality Mariel. You’re on trial today for betraying the will of the Almighty, rebelling against all that is good and light in the universe...”

Mariel blocked the rest of her pretentious speech out as she droned on about all the awful things she’d supposedly done to deserve this. It was all lies anyway. She knew the real reason she was here. There were a few things that stood out to her despite it all, things that nearly made her laugh. She’d known that they’d needed to conjure up some reasons for condemning her, but this was just ridiculous. Gabriel really had gone to extraordinary yet desperate lengths to slander her in her final moments in this Someone-forsaken place. She was surprised that the angels gathered to watch her downfall believed a word of this. She tried her best not to resent them, though. It wasn’t like they had anything better to believe in. Especially considering the amused smirk that had crept its way onto her face.

She returns to reality just in time to hear Michael ask, “What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“I’ve done nothing I need to defend,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself than it already is,” Gabriel muttered dangerously from where he stood beside her.

Mariel turned to look at him in disbelief. “How the fuck could this get any worse, Gabriel?” she hissed, fury flaring up in her eyes.

He just looked back at her condescendingly, “Do you really need me to answer that?”

She pointedly refused to reply, turning back to face Michael, determined to ignore him.

The next part goes past in a blur for Mariel. Michael speaks again, though she doesn’t listen. Then suddenly there are shouts of anger, screams of rage, coming from the gathered crowd. They spit with venom as they hurl insults at her. She doesn’t hear a word. It’s as though her head is under water, completely submerged in the stone cold anger that seeps through her body, and suddenly Mariel is drowning in the realisation that this is really happening, oh God this is really happening.

Why? Why is this happening to me? You listening, God? Look me in the eye and tell me why this is happening.

She doesn’t get an answer, and though she wasn’t expecting one, it still hurts. Because she knows that she’ll never get an answer from Her again now.

Eventually she feels a tug on her arm from where Gabriel has been standing, dragging her away from the crowd and out her of current state of mind. She could feel her senses coming back to her as she stumbled backwards, but everything was crashing down on her too quickly, too harshly. She did her best to shove the rising panic as deep down insider her as she could. There was no way she would let anyone here see her in that state. She couldn’t let them think they’d won.

She didn’t even realise she had reached the edge of the ground she was standing on, the edge of Heaven itself, Gabriel no longer grabbing her arm. She nearly found herself peering over the edge, but stopped herself before she could lean too far. It may have helped her in the past but now was not the time to give in to her curiosity. And she didn’t trust Gabriel to not push her the moment he had the chance. She turned her head to glare fiercely at him, piercing holes in his very soul. She could slowly feel her anxiety being replaced by cool rage as she found herself saying, “Any institution that tries to silence anyone who opposes them is inherently corrupt.” She stared knowingly at his discomfort as he forced himself to face her. He knew what she meant by that. He knew.

He took a second to compose himself before practically scoffing in her face, “Don’t preach at me.”

Mariel cocked her head as she studied him. She watched as his eyes subconsciously flicked back to the crowd, to the other Archangels. He blatantly wanted nothing more than to re-join his fellow angels, the only beings who understood why he was doing what he was doing, or were at least supposed to understand anyway. Somehow she doubted they were all as cold-hearted and self-absorbed as the angel in front of her. She considered him for a moment before saying simply, “Your quest for power will kill you in the end.”

He furrowed his brows in somewhat amused confusion, “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s the truth,” she blinked at him before leaning in and murmuring in his ear, “It will be your downfall.”

“The only one who’s going to Fall around here is you,” he said dangerously. Mariel leaned back and watched the lethal glimmer in his eye wither and die under the intensity of her gaze.

She just smiled. “We’ll see.” She let herself look at him for a moment longer before blinking away the tears and cautiously taking a small step backwards. She could feel where the ground ended beneath her feet and was sure not to step any further. She took one last look of the place she once called home, embracing how it felt for the last time though she knew she wouldn’t miss it.

She closed her eyes for a moment and fell back.

Mariel was Falling. That bit she knew, but much more than that? Everything was happening too fast for her to notice. And yet, it was as if she was existing in slow-motion. She worried for a moment that this was, in fact, her fate; doomed to remain in a perpetual state of limbo, of Falling, for all eternity. The only thing telling her otherwise was the view of Heaven above her, which she realised only too late was slowly shrinking into nothing. Mariel found herself reaching her own arms out, grasping for Heaven. They were opposite ends of a magnet being roughly pulled away from each other by an invisible force.

You hear that God? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? And don’t you dare tell me it’s all part of your plan because right now, the only thing I want is to be back where I should be and I can’t even have that.

She pulled herself out of her mind and back into reality; she’d have plenty of time in Hell to yell at a God who’d never listen, let alone answer. She only just started to register her surroundings, the fact that she was actually Falling, who knows how far and for how long, tumbling through the air at an unimaginable speed, plummeting towards a place that could be anything from seconds to hours away. The deafening wind that screamed in her ears, drowning out the screams which may have been coming from her mouth or her mind, who was she to say? Air whipped around her body, icier and more painful than any words that could ever be uttered by the angels above her. It wasn’t until she could no longer see any hint of Heaven on the horizon that she started to feel the tears finally fall, trickling down her face and floating slightly due to the force of the Fall.

Then suddenly it came. She felt it in the very tips of her wings first, a strange tingling sensation, as though hundreds and then thousands of pins were skirting the edges of her corporeal being. It spread over the rest of her wings, and then her body, at a faster pace than she could keep track of until her whole being felt as though it was burning. The pain grew, and it grew, and it grew, and she didn’t think she could physically take any more pain when she looked up in horror at her own freshly blackened wings. Her beautiful, holy wings which had once been the softest, purest white, were now stained with evil and ash. For the first time since she started Falling, however long ago that might have been, she let out a choked sob that racked through her whole body and through the ever-changing air around her. Nobody heard her cries. Nobody heard her screams as the searing pain in her chest grew stronger. She couldn’t even begin to work out whether it was physical or emotional but it was there and it burned a hole, a gaping wound, through her soul, leaving a scar fated to never heal and to forever haunt her-

Eloise was crying. She’d tried so hard to prevent the steady streams that were now running down her cheeks, but that was a memory that she’d never wanted to relive. She looked upwards for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions and her breathing, before peeling her hands away from the two sat in front of her. She roughly wiped the tears from her face, and suddenly the only thing telling you she had been crying were the bloodshot eyes that Crowley tried to ignore as he said bluntly, “I’m still confused.”

“Crowley, give her a minute,” Aziraphale chastised him, furrowing his brows at the demon before he turned back to Eloise with kind eyes and a kinder heart, “Are you alright, my dear?”

She nodded without much hesitation, “I’m fine, it’s okay.” She certainly wasn’t fine, nor was it okay, but the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with her feelings in front of two people she was trying her best not to scare off. She looked back at Crowley, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He looked at her in understanding, for if anyone knew her thought process in that moment, it was him. “Right, so you Fell and became a demon. Then what?”

“Well, you know what Hell’s like,” she started, looking pointedly at Crowley. She waited for him to nod before continuing, “Not my scene at all. I just point-blank refused to do anything they asked of me. Naturally they didn’t like that much. Eventually I was called in to see Satan about it. I remember thinking, ‘well, that’s that then. Terrible knowing you all.’, because I didn’t think I was going to survive that. Turns out he was just annoyed that I was being a bloody nuisance to everyone else, but he was too amused to really do anything about it, so he basically just told me to piss off. Leave Hell, don’t come back, and I won’t tell anyone where you’ve gone or that you’re even alive. Not exactly a deal I could refuse, so I left, came to Earth, been here ever since. I think everyone just assumed he’d killed me,” she shrugged as if she hadn’t just destroyed the whole idea of eternal damnation with just a few sentences. She smiled to herself as they gaped at her for a moment, though she doubted they realised they were doing it.

Crowley somehow managed to gather his senses quick enough to hold up a hand and say, “Wait, but when you were talking to Gabriel and Beelzebub and that lot, you said they had six thousand years to check up on you. Why would you say that if they thought you were dead?” He narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t altogether quite sure why he seemed to be so keen on finding any gaps in her story, but he needed to be able to trust that she was telling the truth. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Yes, and they didn’t exactly seem surprised to see you alive.”

Eloise grinned. You two are gonna be fun, I can tell. “You’re both very observant, I have to give you credit for that.” She paused in thought for a second before starting carefully, “You see, the trouble with me is that I’m not really one for keeping a low profile. I’m too noisy, so to speak, and I don’t even realise it most of the time. This demon I hadn’t exactly been the nicest to back in Hell saw me in Babylon, gosh, it must have been eighteen thirty something BC? Anyways, he ratted me out to Beelzebub who must have told Gabriel all about it. I had about a decade of this bloody demon trying to discorporate me just to see if it would force me to go back to Hell, then one day he just stopped, and I never saw him again. Beelzebub probably told him to piss off.”

They were both quiet again for a little while. Eloise didn’t even think to say anything. It might be a rare occasion, but she did know when to keep her mouth shut when it mattered. She could see the cogs turning in their heads as if it was projected in the air above them. Eventually Crowley murmured, “I didn’t even know you could do that, you know, leave.”

She shook her head with a strange kind of sympathy that came from recognising an experience you had far too long ago, “Neither did I. It stills shocks me sometimes if I think about it too much.”

A few seconds passed before Crowley cleared his throat abruptly and said, “They called you Mariel. I thought you said your name was Eloise.”

She hesitated before answering. She knew exactly what he was doing, she’d been doing it for the whole of their conversation thus far, but just because she tended to bury her emotions, it didn’t mean that she liked it when others did it. She decided to ignore the hypocrisy of that thought, how ironic, she thought to herself, and instead explained, “It is. Mariel was my angel name. You know how it is,” she looked pointedly at Crowley again, hoping that Aziraphale would be able to put the pieces together. She didn’t actually know how much he knew about what it was like to Fall and become a demon.

“Oh, so is Eloise your demon name?” Aziraphale asked politely.

“No,” she said curtly, instantly feeling guilty when she saw the hurt that flashed over Aziraphale’s face. She grimaced and explained in a gentler tone, “I chose it for myself when I came to Earth. Hell tried to change my name after I Fell but I just refused.” She studied him for a second, watching his eyes dart about, before saying, “You want to ask something, I can tell. What is it?”

He looked a little startled at being caught out, momentarily glancing at Crowley for support, probably subconsciously, Eloise noted with a smile. “I, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you mentioned Armageddon. Back when you were speaking with, um, well, you know. H-how did you know about that?”

“I might have been there.” The words rushed out of her mouth in a much less casual manner than what she’d been aiming for, coming out in a sort of jumbled heap that took Crowley and Aziraphale a moment to decipher.

Crowley, the poor sod, could only think to lean forward and ask a simple, “You what?”

She jumped to defend herself, wanting to avoid the onslaught of questions if she could, “Not actually at the airbase, but I was in the area. I was living in Tadfield at the time.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, although the hint of a smirk on his face told her it was more in amusement than suspicion, “How did you know it was at the airbase?”

Eloise couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because of course, they’d notice her choice of words, “I knew Adam and his mates. I ran an ice cream shop, would you believe it. He came and told me all about it the day after,” she smiled fondly before suddenly coming alive with excitement, “That’s actually how I found out about you two. That’s why I’m here. Because I thought I was the only one trying to stop the world ending, but apparently I wasn’t. I had to see for myself.”

A moment passed before Aziraphale asked quietly, “You were trying to stop it?”

Eloise, not noticing the newly subdued atmosphere, launched herself into a painfully over-enthusiastic explanation, “Yeah, it was quite clever really, if I do say so myself. I made sure Adam was swapped with the American baby in the hopes that he would have a human enough upbringing to perhaps change things. Seems to have worked,” she shrugged, before finally taking in the two shocked faces that were staring back at her. Her brows furrowed and her face fell as she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You switched the babies?” Crowley asked blankly, although it came out as more of a statement than a question.

Her face screwed up as she tried to work out how best to explain herself. “Well, I say switched, it was more of a ‘made sure the demon dropping the antichrist off went to the wrong delivery room’ kind of thing. Feel sorry for the poor sod who had to deal with that but needs must.”

Crowley blinked at her and said bluntly, “I was the poor sod who had to deal with that.”

Eloise looked at him for a moment as about five different jigsaw pieces finally clicked in her head, before she threw her head back in realisation, “Oh shit, so you were. I knew your name sounded familiar.”

“You bastard, we spent six years raising the wrong child because of you!” he exclaimed, wagging his finger at her and jumping off of the bed at one point before Aziraphale tugged him back down. Eloise didn’t know whether to laugh or run for her life, for the menace in his words was betrayed by the disbelieving laugh in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” she asked, only just processing what he’d just said, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at his dramatic antics. She knew not to push it when Aziraphale just lifted a finger and pursed his lips with the look of someone who’d rather never bring up said event again.

“Oh bloody heaven, I can’t believe this,” Crowley shook his head, chuckling to himself. Although part of him resented it, he couldn’t help but look at Eloise differently now as they laughed like little kids together. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed so much more like them now, so much more human. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to stop the apocalypse and all the implications that came with the fact. Suddenly he just wanted to know more about her, but he quickly silenced that thought. One thing at a time.

She raised her shoulders with a confused look on her face, giggling as she said, “Sorry? Well, I didn’t know, did I?”

They locked eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter again at the sheer absurdity of it all, leaving Aziraphale slightly bewildered and more than slightly exasperated at the pair. It took them a few moments to finally calm down but once they did, Crowley sobered his tone of voice as he asked, “Right, back to what happened before we came in. Anything we need to keep an eye out for?”

Though he didn’t say it, Eloise could see the unasked question in his eyes. Are we safe? She smiled softly, “Nah, you two’ll be fine. Basically I told them if they want to talk to me, then they need to get their bosses involved, and somehow I highly doubt God and Satan are gonna pop down for a friendly chat any time soon. Even then, you two should be fine. I don’t think any of that lot clocked on that you were here.”

Crowley nodded in understanding, and it didn’t escape Eloise’s attention how the remaining dregs of tension visibly dissipated from both of their bodies. Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other for a moment, the relief palpable from the pair of them. Eloise averted her eyes, giving them the privacy that they didn’t necessarily need but probably did want. She allowed herself a moment to ponder their relationship. They were very in tune with each other, very in sync, that much was obvious. Are they in love? The question sounded ridiculous the moment she thought it. Of course they are, look at them. She’d seen that look time and time again over the millennia. Although when she thought about the way they looked at each other further, that lead to another question. Do they know? The hint of yearning in their eyes was subtle but it was there. No, absolutely not. They’re too comfortable with each other. They’re a unit, that much she could tell. A unit that might not want to be disturbed.

Oh dear.

She looked back up at them hesitantly, unsure of what to say for the first time that evening. Eventually she said, “I’d better go. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

Crowley frowned. Hadn’t she said she’d been travelling for a while? “You got somewhere to stay?”

Eloise paused. She’d definitely not been expecting that response. “Not yet. There is a flat I was going to rent but the people haven’t moved out yet because of the lockdown and it seems rude to miracle them away. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Stay here,” Crowley said almost instantly, then pulled a face of confusion at how quickly he replied, “I mean, only if you want to.”

Eloise blinked at that. Surely, they wouldn’t want her there? What reason could they possibly have to want her there? “Wait, are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Crowley just shrugged, “It’s not a problem. What are your options anyway? No hotels are open, and you can’t stay with anyone.”

“Only if you’re sure,” she murmured, still wary for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced at Aziraphale for confirmation; it was his bookshop after all.

He nodded firmly, “Of course. I’ve been told the sofa is remarkably comfy,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, to which she grinned broadly.

A short while and a few miracles later, the sofa downstairs had become a makeshift bed that was significantly larger and softer than it had remembered it being. Eloise was currently settled on it; all it had taken was ten minutes for her to completely crash out. Aziraphale and Crowley had left her in peace with a chuckle, heading up to the bedroom they shared (that wasn’t out of choice, mind you. Simply because there was only one bedroom in the bookshop. No other reason.) One slightly confused item of furniture aside, all seemed to be well in the bookshop.

Upstairs in the bedroom, an angel and a demon were sitting in the same bed. Neither of them had thought to turn off the lights, so they were sat in thick silence in the bedroom. Aziraphale didn’t usually come up to bed, not as used to sleeping as Crowley was, instead opting to read the night away downstairs. However this seemed impolite considering their new guest, so he’d come up with Crowley. And while Crowley was mulling this over he finally stumbled upon why he felt so uneasy.

Aziraphale hadn’t brought a book up with him.

As bizarre a concern as that may seem, Crowley could always trust Aziraphale to bring a book up to bed with him on the rare occasion he came up at night. That was one of the things he lo- liked about him. Liked. He looked at Aziraphale curiously, noting the slight frown on his face as he stared into space. How deep in his head must he have been to forget a book? “You alright, angel?” he asked as softly as he could so as to not startle him.

He looked at Crowley with wide eyes that darted away almost instantly as he started to play with his hands in his lap, “Yes, my dear, I’m fine. I just realised something, is all.”

Crowley cocked his head in interest, “Oh really? What was it?”

He was silent for a little while before saying in a voice no louder than a whisper, “I think I was there when she Fell.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows raise in shock, looking away for a second to try and compose himself. “Right. Well, that’s a thing.”

“Quite.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of what this meant now, “And was she telling the truth? Did all that actually happen?”

“Yes. I remember it perfectly well. Clear as day,” he managed to choke out with a forced smile before going back to his routine fidgeting.

Crowley laid a gentle hand on top of Aziraphale’s, stopping what he was doing and getting him to actually look him in the eye for longer than a second. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am quite well. Don’t fret,” he said, and despite Crowley’s concern, he couldn’t pretend that the smile on Aziraphale’s face wasn’t genuine, however small it may have been.

He reluctantly let it go, changing the subject quickly, “You alright with her staying here? I know it just sort of happened.”

The smile on his face only grew, much to Crowley’s surprise, “It’s alright. After all, wasn’t it you who said we’re on our own side now? I think she’s the first person we’ve met who might understand what that means.”

Crowley tried not to think too much about the fact that Aziraphale had actually listened to him when he’d said that, let alone remembered it, instead opting for a casual, “Yeah, I suppose so. Right, I’m gonna get some sleep. I, um, yeah,” he stammered out awkwardly, cursing his brain for not thinking of literally any other decent response.

Aziraphale simply smiled fondly at him, “Indeed. Goodnight, my dear.”

*************

Hello my love,

At the time of writing this, I do not know what the future holds. For me it’s an uncertain, unstoppable force, and it’s not one I think I can fend off for much longer. I’ve tried, please believe that I’ve tried. I’ve tried for your sake to prevent the inevitable. But it’s coming. I can feel it. It won’t be long now, I don’t think.

If you’re reading this, it means I was right, and I have Fallen. I know you’re probably confused and scared and that there is a biting anger bubbling inside you. I wish I could tell you why this is happening. I wish I could tell you that this is all a huge misunderstanding that will be resolved soon.

I wish I could tell you I love you one more time.

But I can’t. There are many things I can’t do now, and it’ll do me no good to dwell on this any longer than I have to. To survive we must focus on what we can do, and that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.

If I know myself as well as I think I do, there are many things I would have liked to have said to you upon our final farewell, but didn’t because I wanted to make sure you were alright. Don’t feel guilty about this, my love. Think of it as my last debt to you being repaid.

I have a plan. Well, it’s more of an idea, and it might not work. And it’s because of this that I shan’t tell you exactly what it is. It seems cruel to allow you to hope for something that might never come into fruition. But please put your faith in me, and in our love, for we will prevail. One way or another.

I hope that you didn’t wait to read this letter because you were scared of its contents, though I’m sure this isn’t the case. You were always brave. It was always something I loved about you. Your quiet, beautiful, roaring courage in the face of such turmoil and anguish. You always had the courage to be kind and to love with all your being, even when everything was against you. No one would have blamed you if you had turned cold and bitter, and yet you chose not to. I admire you for it every day. My idea, should it work, will require us both to be incredibly brave. But more on that another day. It’s that bravery and that strength that you will need to rely on now. That, and the thought of me. Though I may not physically be with you, but I hope that my love’s own soul is enough.

I won’t sign off this letter, because this is not where our story ends. There is much left to be written. And I need you to remember that each day we are parted. Until the next time, my love.

#good omens #good omens headcanon #good omens fic #good omens imagine #crowley #crowley headcanon #crowley imagine #Aziraphale #aziraphale imagine #aziraphale headcanon #Ineffable Husbands

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into1-wonderland · 3 years

Text

Baby!Into1 x Daycare au | Intro

(ft. Bo Yuan as the caretaker of the 10 chaotic bunch, ranging from the ages of 3-5)

a/n: hello hello yumi here~ so this is the first into1 au of mine that will ever see the light of day. at first I was going to write things for it, but honestly I'm going to make it into a series with incorrect quotes to attach with it. this post will be the bios of all the babies and our lovely caretaker Bo Yuan, so enough of me babbling and I hope you guys could enjoy~

First off, we have the Caretaker™ Bo Yuan:

my mans is like in his 20's rn

wanted to open up a little day care as like side job/internship because he wanted to teach kids in the future so he was like “might as well start working with kids now!”

and so

he did it

only regretted his life decisions when his devil number 1 and devil number 2 does something bad

other times he really enjoy looking after them! and he doesn’t even feel like it’s a job!

has been thinking about taking a field trip with all 10 of them but he’s afraid: 1) he might lose one 2) he might lose himself 3) can they behave themselves

his favorite thing to do is having all of them gather around while reading a fairytale to them for nap time

or sometimes he would sing a song

he has a lot of favorite things in day care, literally having all 10 of them just there makes him happy

except when lin mo and nine is having a scream off:

lin mo: ahh

nine: aHH

lin mo: AHH

nine: AHHHHH-

bo yuan, running into the room: what’s wrong?

ak: screaming

bo yuan: why?

patrick, with his hands over his ears: TO SEE WHOS LOUDER

all the other boys: *nods*

isnt always watching the kids 24/7, since day 1 when the kids came in he told them the rules of the daycare and kinda just let them familiarize the place

(bo yuan: its a daycare, and they are kids, they are suppose to have fun!

keyu, in the back, mumbles: i wanna climb the tree in the yard

bo yuan, turns around: keyu no)

///////////

And now we have the kids!!

Liu Yu:

4 years old

very quiet, just likes to sit and read and draw

the most obedient one, and likes to follow around bo yuan

well,, most of the time

he’s played a few pranks on bo yuan like:

bo yuan: liu yu nap time is over you have to wake up

liu yu: *not moving*

bo yuan, gently nudged liu yu: liu yu wake up!

liu yu: *continues to fake sleep and not move*

bo yuan: *leans closer to liu yu’s face to make sure hes not sick or has a fever*

liu yu, scares bo yuan: WAH

bo yuan: liu yu dont do that! you scared me!

liu yu: *giggles*

likes to stretch and bend himself in odd positions

(bo yuan: everyday I’m in fear that he will snap himself in half)

kinda an introvert but once he hangs around everyone for a bit he will open up to them and fit himself in very well

likes to organize and keep things how he found them/have special places where he organizes his toys

jiayuan: *moves liu yu’s fan*

liu yu: hey! put that back!!

has really good etiquettes and never really fights or argues or bicker with the other kids

but likes to joke around and mess around with once in a while

patrick: wahhh i put my cupcakes here who took one!

liu yu, hiding it behind his back: idk maybe keyu took it?

the least of bo yuan’s worries since he’s always in bo yuan’s sight, also he’s aware of his surroundings so he actually helps bo yuan make sure everything’s okay

(bo yuan: i made a checklist for myself on the whiteboard and liu yu likes to check things off for me, he said “coloring in the boxes is fun” so now he's the reason why i get all my work done)

-----------

Santa:

4 years old

riki’s best friend

super happy and bright, like a ray of sunshine

is easily scared

lin mo: hi

santa: WAHHHHH BO YUAN GEGE

really likes bo yuan, would stick on to him a lot and ask him about everything

santa: bo yuan gege whats this?

santa: bo yuan gege what’s that?

santa: bo yuan gege what are you making right now?

hangs out with liu yu and mika a lot (other than riki)

riki is older than him but would hold riki’s hand and take him around like a didi

also really likes racing with mika for E V E R Y T H I N G

(bo yuan: yeah couple days ago they tried to race who can fall asleep faster but because they kept on peeking at each other so they basically didn’t sleep till i said i’ll watch for them)

really likes to dance, every time he hears music he would start grooving around

loves learning new things, which is probably the reason why he always asks bo yuan so many questions

also least one of bo yuan’s worries, just gotta make sure jiayuan and lin mo don’t pull pranks on him

(bo yuan: well they dont really pull prank pranks, its just once lin mo grabbed a frog and started running around and showing it to everyone, but lin mo lost grip and the frog jumped on santa)

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Rikimaru:

5 years old

looks like he’s 3, acts like he’s 3, but is actually 5

best friends with santa! always sticks around him and likes to tug on a corner of his shirt out of habit

bo yuan: alright everyone it’s nap time! i’ve made the beds for everyone

riki, sees his bed is not next to santa: bo yuan gege can you switch my bed next to santa? i wanna be next to santa

he didn’t start speaking till he was 4 so he often stutters when he talk and just looks confused a lot (it's because he’s thinking and formulating his words)

santa and the other kids would always have to interpret for him

bo yuan: riki I brought some snacks today do you want cookies or marshmallows?

riki: ???

santa, motioning with his hands: bo yuan gege said do you want the white fluffies or brown crunchies

riki: oh! crunchies!

squishy cheeks,, bo yuan’s favorite thing is to squish his cheek everytime he sees him

riki: gud mooning bo yuan gege!

bo yuan, squishes riki’s cheeks: ahh I haven’t seen you in so long good morning!!

nine: wait wasnt riki here yesterday??

also likes to stretch,, often seen around with liu yu and they just help each other

(bo yuan: i am afraid he will snap himself in half too)

not too much of bo yuan’s worries, besides the fact that he might get kidnapped because he’s so oblivious

(bo yuan: we were playing outside in the yard once and riki just wandered off because he thought the neighbor’s flowers were pretty)

-----------

Mika:

4 years old

also kinda an introvert, doesn’t interact with too many people

usually it’s santa that approaches him first or keyu^^

found a ukulele in the toy bin one time and wouldn’t let go of it (he claims it’s his now)

his favorite activity at daycare is when they all sing together, that’s when he smiles the most and has the most fun

the one that likes to nap the most

also likes to help bo yuan cook once in a while (mostly just having mika washing vegetables and passing things to bo yuan)

very laid back and not noisy (till he starts playing the ukulele)

often gets scared by lin mo’s sudden screams (actually, lin mo scares a lot of people, sorry to mika’s ears)

also not one of bo yuan’s worries, literally there’s nothing to worry about with mika, all the kids just likes to sit around mika and pet his head so he keeps everyone safe

(bo yuan: one time I couldn’t find any of the kids in the play room, apparently they were all in the napping corner petting mika’s head since he just got a hair cut)

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Nine:

4 years old

loud, very loud.

pouts a lot

everyone calls nine cute, even the boys who are younger than him

likes to boss around patrick because he’s older

nine: patrick gimme that juice box!

patrick: you’re closer you get it!

nine: i’m older than you!

literally scared of everything

if he hasn’t seen it before and it’s living, he’s scared

jiayuan: *holds a bowl of tadpoles*

nine, several feet away: WAHHH WHAT IS THAT

the happiest when he gets snacks + real food food

also really likes to sing!! his favorite thing is watching disney movies because there’s so much music in it and he just loves to sing along

he’s not part of bo yuan’s worries because he’s literally scared of everything, but nine is really naive and would do things that the other kids tell him to do so, it’s a 50/50 on nine

(bo yuan: there was an edible decorative flower on keyu’s birthday cake couple days ago, and somehow jiayuan convinced nine all flowers were edible. so today during outside time nine almost ate the neighbor’s flowers)

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Lin Mo:

3 years old

LOUD. VERY LOUD.

probably the craziest most hyper one out of them all

he and jiayuan always have something bad planned

literally doesn’t have a moment where he’s calm

constantly in bickering mode with ak

lin mo: NO IM RIGHT

ak: NO. IM RIGHT

patrick: what are they arguing about?

keyu: *shrugs*

but is also best friends with ak so he’s also calm around him

(bo yuan: yeah these two have on and off days, you can never predict it)

and also constantly naruto runs around the daycare

bo yuan: lin mo stop running!

lin mo: *nyoom*

he also once nyoomed into keyu

keyu: ow what was that for?

lin mo: you were in my way!

and now he nyooms into keyu for fun

a very good mood maker

likes to smile/laugh a lot

would calm down if you show him a movie or a cartoon

number 2 on bo yuan’s worry list because he’s the "bad influence" for everyone, also he reduces hearing for everyone

(bo yuan: i’ve secretly made a tally book on how many times i have to say “lin mo” in a concerning tone this week and he came in 2nd. he was only here for like 3 days!)

-----------

Zhang Jiayuan:

3 years old

YOURE THREE STOP SMIRKING LIKE THAT

couple months younger than lin mo but this is the real culprit under a lot of his and lin mo‘s plans

it’s just because jiayuan has a lot of crazy ideas and he says them out loud and lin mo is just like “yes”

also sometimes they are just accidents, but he's always doing weird questionable things with lin mo

got really sad one time because he brought tadpoles and put them in the fish tank and killed them since the fish went nom

but then started to constantly catch for tadpoles to feed the fishes

bo yuan: jiayuan stop, you’re killing the frog population!

jiayuan: but the fishies are hungry *pouts*

likes to fight/mess around with keyu for no reason

keyu: *sitting there, drawing*

jiayuan, with a squishy hammer: *bops keyu’s head*

but also will protect keyu if anyone tries to mess with him

lin mo: *nyooms into keyu for the 3rd time of the day* jiayuan, hugs keyu: stop hurting him!

the calmest thing he likes to do is taking care of plants, probably because he saw bo yuan spraying the plants one time and he like to squeeze the spray bottle

number 1 on bo yuan’s worry list, this child is literally not safe alone or with anyone. they were trying to celebrate keyu’s birthday and jiayuan tried to touch the candles, while it was lit, by the flame.

(bo yuan: i just got the tablets and haven’t set up children mode, so i’ll take the blame for this one. but also why are kids so good with technologies nowadays??)

-----------

Patrick:

3 years old

squishy :D

smiley :DD

favorite thing is nap time and snack time

somehow knows every location where bo yuan hides their snacks

bo yuan: *getting the snacks that he hid in the piano*

patrick: *sitting next to the window sill with the snack* hi~

of course bo yuan can never get mad at patrick for eating the snacks because patrick doesn’t do anything bad

also he's a growing child

best friends with keyu,, and drags him on to “adventures”

*the daycare got a new toy play house*

patrick: bo yuan gege, keyu and I are moving out so we can go on an adventure!

keyu: I didnt agree to this??

wants bo yuan to add dress up into the daycare games, since he wants to dress up the other boys in the daycare

patrick: i call it, patrick fashion!

not part of bo yuan’s worries till he’s on his hunt for the hidden snacks, just because bo yuan is afraid he might hurt himself

(bo yuan: i started hiding the snacks higher up and one time i saw him trying to climb on keyu’s shoulders to grab it)

-----------

Zhou Keyu:

3 years old

smart, but really clueless at the same time

tall, but has the personality of smol

likes to draw

also likes to read with patrick,, but usually patrick falls asleep so it’s him, the book, and a sleeping patrick

wears glasses all the time since his vision isn’t so good but somehow he makes glasses look good on him???

has a chain with his glasses because there too many glasses incident with keyu

glasses #1 keyu: I don’t like them! *takes it off and loses it*

glasses #2 keyu: *takes them off for nap time, but riki accidentally rolled on to them and snapped it*

glasses # we don’t know how many: *disconnected from the keyu universe*

also like a month younger than lin mo but literally has to make sure lin mo doesnt “blow” the place up

lin mo: what if I stuck this fork into the pluggie thing?

keyu, picking lin mo up: nope you’re not

when keyu is clueless he either stands there or just sit there and space out, not really noticeable but bo yuan ran into him doing that a couple times

(bo yuan: I thought he was an ai that was malfunctioning, it scared me at first but now I know he just doesn’t remember what he’s doing)

oh did I mention this,, even though he’s one of the youngest, he’s the tallest, with that advantage he likes to try to pick people up

jiayuan: keyu pick me up!

keyu: no

patrick: keyu likes me more he will pick me up!

keyu: no

patrick: *pouts*

keyu: *tries to pick both jiayuan and patrick up at the same time*

bo yuan, running over: ZHOU KEYU PUT THEM DOWN YOULL BREAK YOURSELF

not too high up on bo yuan’s worry list, give him a piece of paper or book or anything he would just calmly sit there and do something with it

(bo yuan: every time when we do art or reading its so hard to pry keyu away, he has to finish what he was doing and he’s so concentrated he doesn’t hear anybody)

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Liu Zhang (AK):

4 years old

loud, VERY LOUD.

he doesn’t know he’s loud

bo yuan: ak you don’t have to yell

ak: OKAY

monopolized over all the instrument music type of toys in the daycare

bo yuan: ak you know you have to share your toys right?

ak: I gave the ukulele to mika

honestly having ak is like having a walking megaphone so bo yuan ended up actually making ak his little helper for announcements

bo yuan: ak go tell everyone is lunch time

ak: alright!

ak: *da da da running to fetch his little stool*

ak, stands on a little stool in the middle of the play room: ITS LUNCH TIMEEEEEE-

nine, swats ak’s leg: YOU SCARED ME

the only time ak is quiet is when he’s around lin mo, he kinda just likes to watch lin mo and follow him around so that’s that

unless lin mo starts messing with him, then you just lose your hearing for the day

also at first bo yuan was trying to see what ak is interested in, and he taught ak hot cross buns on the bells and thought that would calm ak down,, but oops ak ended up making more noises

patrick: I WANNA SLEEP AK

(bo yuan: I swear something happened to this kid or something. he’s not hard of hearing but he’s just naturally so loud)

i too would lose my hearing if im around ak so much

not to high on bo yuan’s worries but he just make sure ak isn’t being too loud and bothering the other kids, usually he’s pretty good about that but you never know when a little patrick will start napping or anyone really so gotta contain his energy

(bo yuan: ak is usually the first one that’s awake from nap time but its usually like 5-10min before everyone else so i told him he can go and play but he just has to be quiet)

///////////

alrighty !! now you've met everyone in the daycare, what kind of fun and chaotic adventures are they going to have??

(all future daycare au things will be incorrect quotes + short little one shots, this intro mostly served as a bio so you understand their personalities a bit, and i hope you enjoyed it!)

#i wrote a lot of these at like 3 to 5 in the morning #i know theres a lot of loop holes in this au but please ignore it #i just want the fatherly love and chaotic children energy #might have the other chuang boys featured in future stuff in this series #<- im not dropping any spoilers #baby!into1 daycare au #into1 #into1 liuyu #into1 santa #into1 rikimaru #into1 mika #into1 nine #into1 boyuan #into1 linmo #into1 zhang jiayuan #into1 patrick #into1 zhou keyu #into1 ak

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thefairefolk-rp · 3 years

Note

Do you have any advice for someone trying to start their own literate/semi-literate roleplay? (I know yours is fully literate but I'd like to allow short replies sometimes in mine) It's my first time

Hi there! Oh gosh I have so many things I wish I could have told myself seven years ago when this all began. I’ll try to boil it down to some things I think are most important. But, I already know this is going to be a novel lol. So, sorry in advance.

1. Don’t be too overzealous with the amount of characters, factions and locations in the game: When I first started, I set out to make this massive sprawling faerie world with a choose-your-own-adventure feel to it. I wrote new bios alllll the time, and added new interesting groups and organizations whenever they came to mind. We had everything from barmaids in the distant slums, to wild fae youth living in the woods, to princesses living in the capitol. What this turned into was an rp that had literally over 100 (?!?!) characters to choose from, from pretty much everywhere on this huge map. I got to write all these super fun characters and people seemed really intrigued by the variety. In theory this was great. However, I started to realize that it made it more difficult for our members to come up with storylines long-term. Sometimes it was hard to even come up with how to get two characters with vastly different backstories could be in the same place. In 2018 I did a complete revamp that largely involved finding a more central theme for the rp, and cutting a huge number of bios and groups out. What I landed on was a concept that was a fae royal court drama, instead of a story about an entire faerie world. So, now most characters are nobility, or involved with royals. There is now also a central theme of these warring old fae families, and an established history of backstabbing and scandal. It has helped a lot because now characters have tons of parties, royal events, etc. that they can plausibly meet at and even old beefs between families to stir things up. I could have saved so.much.time if I had really tasked myself in the beginning with deciding exactly what I wanted this story to be about and stopping myself when I started over-designing.

2. Find a really solid admin team that you trust: I think in the beginning I felt like this was rp was my baby, and felt like things needed to be done a specific way. I was more resistant to changing things, even when they needed to be. But, over the years I have gotten to work with so many talented people with skills and ideas I could never have dreamed up. The more open I was to other ideas, the better this rp became. To this day some of my favorite things in the rp were not made by me! Also, find people with strengths you don’t have. For example: I find it really difficult to come up with new events, while the other two admins here are very good at them.

3. Make sure maintaining diversity is a constant goal. Many people are tired of seeing white-washed, straight, cis, non-disabled characters over and over. I think it’s our responsibility as rp admins to make sure our characters reflect the true diversity of the world around us. Add diverse faceclaims, and do your research on any group you are trying to represent that you are not very familiar with to make sure it is done with respect. This includes race, gender, sexuality and body diversity (quite honestly, we are still not where I want us to be with every category yet). We somewhat recently made the choice to disallowing people to change the race of a character because of how often people wanted to swap out a POC for a white faceclaim to make sure our diverse choices stay diverse. On a side note, there are a lot of rph’s (roleplay helpers) who will not promote or shoutout your group if your diversity is lacking. So it’s just beneficial all-around to make sure you’re doing it right.

4. Make sure your roleplay feels unpretentious and un-intimidating even for those who may not have participated in a literate rp before, or never rp’d at all. I think literate roleplays can have a (sometimes earned) reputation for being a bit elitist and intimidating. It can feel like a lot, especially when for so many of these roleplays such a large writing sample is asked for. We made an Application Guide that boils down our most important information, and a description of what is expected of an applicant so that people feel like they have a solid jumping off point. We also send a “How to Get Started” guide to all new members that includes a list of which blogs to follow, the link to our member list, and the link to our rp’s discord channel. If someone tells you they are new to this, really go the extra mile to make sure they are settled and comfortable.

5. Promote your rp effectively: Make sure your theme is easy to navigate, your color scheme is easy on the eyes and fits the vibe of the roleplay, and that a navigation page is easily accessible. Try to make your navigation page as intuitive as possible. If you have lots of lore like we do, making sure people can easily find the article that will answer their question. Also make sure a link to the plot, and characters is visible on the main page.

I recommend making sure your rp’s page really matches your setting and story so that it’s immediately apparent what some of the themes of the plot are. We use lots of royal imagery, fantasy imagery and nature imagery for ours. I know obtaining pretty graphics, especially if you may not be as well acquainted with with photoshop, can be difficult. Do the best you can, with what you have and don’t sweat it too much if it doesn’t start out how you want it to. I taught myself photoshop for this roleplay, and made many of my own graphics at first. They weren’t perfect, but I was able to get the idea across. I found the person who made my current graphics through a roleplay that I loved the aesthetic of. There are definitely some rp helpers on here who accept commissions to design graphics. Some charge, others don’t. Decide what works best for you! Also, make sure that the small

I’m not sure if you know about about making a promo blog, and how to use the tags to promote. Let me know if you don’t, and I can PM you way more info on that because there definitely is a bit of a science to it.

6. Don’t get too let down by slow periods: Obviously I am very very stubborn because this rp is old af. But, just know ALL roleplays have slow periods. I have had apps dry up for weeks or even months sometimes. I have had the dash entirely stop moving before, and activity 99.9% die. This used to absolutely panic me. But, now I get that this is just the inevitability of a long-term roleplay sometimes. It is often an indicator that something needs to change. Adding a fun event, or a new plot drop can make all the difference. We recently did an Avatar: The Last Airbender AU that really boosted activity! If that doesn’t help, troubleshoot by messaging rph’s who offer opinions or rp help, or straight up asking your members what they’d like. Both can have great insight on what you can improve. But, be ready to not always hear what you want to.

I hope this was helpful! If you come off anon and send me a message, I would be more than happy to chat with you further in private messages and answer more questions. I am genuinely so jazzed to see new literate/semi-literate roleplays pop up!

- Admin L

#Anonymous #lsrpg #literate rp #rpg #rp #lsrp

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fanfoolishness · 4 years

Text

a world for the birds (3/10)

Andy DeMayo took up birding years ago, but his favorite hobby takes on new meaning when shared with his nephew Steven.

A series of looks at Andy and Steven’s growing family relationship.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

***

Chapter 3: hard work

It was a few months before Andy found his way back to Beach City again. He couldn’t say why. Sometimes, it felt good to be back in Delmarva. Other times, it felt like a pair of boots he’d outgrown, a place where ghosts and memories didn’t exactly fit with Gems strolling the countryside and alien buildings rising up above the landscape.

He’d never liked change. It galled him, the older it got, knowing how much it bothered him. How hard it was for him. Like there was something inside him digging his heels in, resisting anything different as hard as it could. It’d always been like that.

But then people like Greg, they could wander off and change their name, their life, everything. Steven was living proof of that. He missed them, and Aunt Deb and her partner, and the other cousins, scattered to the winds, but sometimes, it was still easier to be on his own.

So he spent a few months flying around the Southern Hemisphere, places he’d visited before, places he’d never heard of. He took odd delivery jobs for food and lodging, traded for field guides of local birds, sent the occasional text message to family in the rare occasions he got service. He sent Steven a blurry picture of a marvellous spatuletail (a lifer!), a Peruvian thick-knee, a tiny dot that he swore was a waved albatross. He was gratified when Steven sent him a few amateur photos of northern cardinals and a nice one of a blue grosbeak.

And then there weren’t any messages for a few weeks, and Andy got worried.

***

There was a lot more change than he’d expected.

Gems and humans roamed the boardwalk of Beach City, performing construction on storefronts that looked like they’d been through a hurricane. The grass on the lighthouse hill was patchy and bare in many places like it had been burned. And all along the beach were rocks and patches of sand with filmy pink residue on them, caution tape strung up around them, and Gems working feverishly to clean the areas.

Andy had to argue with one particular Gem before they’d let him pass to the beach house, a towering black and white person with a face that reminded him of the sun. “Sorry, it’s not safe for humans,” she said. “It’s snow joke, it’s seriously toxic.” She winked.

“Uh, right,” he said. “But look, Steven’s my nephew and he lives just around the bend. I’m just in town to visit. What the heck happened here?”

“Uncle Andy!” Steven called, hurrying up to him across the sand, carefully avoiding the roped off pink-stained areas. “Oh, man, I’m so sorry you had to see this. We’re working as hard as we can to clean it up.” He closed the distance and catapulted himself into a hug with Andy.

Andy patted him on the head. Had he grown a little more? He looked different, a black t-shirt today instead of a blue one, shadows under his eyes. “You okay, kid?”

“Thanks, Snowflake,” said Steven. “I’ll keep him safe.”

“You got it,” said Snowflake, leaving them alone. Andy watched the massive Gem walk off, shaking his head. Maybe this was one of the former monster Gems Steven had been talking about. She certainly looked less like a normal hippie than the rest of Steven’s family.

“So what happened? I stopped hearing from you and your dad for a while --”

Steven rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. “Ugh. Everything’s been a mess. Basically it turns out that not everyone agreed the Gem war was over. A Gem my mom hurt came to Earth to try to destroy it. We stopped her, mostly, but she still did a lot of damage.”

“Looks like you and your people are fixing it, though. That’s good, right?” Andy asked uncertainly. He listened for the sound of gulls and terns on the air, but all he heard was the breeze and the waves. He let out a long sigh.

Steven yawned. He really did look exhausted, his hair mussed, his clothes rumpled. “The Gems are taking care of the areas where there’s still detectable bio-poison, but I can’t help with that part. It hurts me, too. But once an area’s clean --” He spotted a patch of bare soil beside them. He licked his hand, then knelt and pressed it to the dirt.

“Uh, Steven --”

The bare soil sprouted over with green and olive moss, shimmering in the sunlight as it grew before his eyes. “Once it’s clean, that’s where I come in,” said Steven, sounding both proud and tired. He straightened up, stretching as he did so. “I’m the only one with healing powers, so, you know, it’s a lot of work. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner,” he said.

Andy crossed his arms, staring at the long stretch of beach, the patchy hillside. “You gotta do all this?”

“Yeah,” said Steven blankly.

“But it wasn’t even your fault.”

“So?”

Andy tried to figure out the words. You’re just a kid probably wouldn’t go over well. He tried a variation. “Don’t you got your own stuff to do? You shouldn’t have to do all this work. Not at your age.”

“But I’m the only one who can fix it,” said Steven, a stubborn note creeping into his voice.

“How many hours a day are you doin’ this? Healing the earth?” Andy asked, trying to sound casual.

“Pretty much as soon as I get up until it gets dark,” said Steven. “There’s so much to do. All the Gems are helping with reconstruction and removing the poison, and I have to do my part, too.”

“Didn’t you say once Gems don’t even sleep?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Steven defensively. “Look, I said I would protect the Earth, and it almost got destroyed on my watch. This is my duty as a Crystal Gem!” He was flushed, his cheeks pink, one hand splayed over the star on his chest.

Andy opened his mouth, then closed it again. Okay, sure, he had to believe him if the kid said he was the only one with this kind of magic, however it all worked. But still. It bugged him how much the kid looked like Greg right now.

Greg, who got more and more quiet during summers at the barn. Greg, who’d been grim and resentful that last summer, constantly fighting with his parents. Greg, who never came back.

There’d been a lot of reasons, he’d learned more recently, that Greg had left them all. This wasn’t exactly the same. But something about Steven’s pinched face and his narrowed eyes made him look so much like his dad, and Andy’s stomach clenched.

“Look, kid, I -- this is all over my head,” said Andy. “Just try to be careful. Okay? You seem worn out. Don’t forget you’re part of the Earth, too.”

Steven’s face relaxed, then creased in a smile. “I know, Uncle Andy. Thanks.” He sighed. “I still have to do a lot of work today. But my dad’s probably free if you want to hang.”

“I’ll go swing by and see if he wants to grab a bite,” said Andy. “Maybe you can join us for dessert or something, huh?”

Steven stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “Um, maybe. But the ice cream place has been closed down after… after all this happened.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Don’t worry about me, seriously,” said Steven. “Your next visit, everything’s gonna be back to normal. I promise.” He flashed him another grin, and headed back down the beach, his shoulders hunched.

***

Andy pushed his crab cake around on his plate, watching it crumble and flake. Good chunks of crab in there, only the barest minimum of bread needed to keep it shaped. It was decent stuff. Too bad he was hardly hungry. He took another drink of his beer, a crisp lager.

“So this crazy Gem almost blew up your town? And the Earth?” asked Andy.

Greg took a drink of his own pint, searching for words. “Well, to hear Steven tell it, she wasn’t crazy. Just in a lot of pain. He had a lot of compassion for her. It probably saved his life.”

“Well, hell,” said Andy. “Does this kind of thing happen often? I mean, he really could have died, it sounds like.”

Greg nodded, letting out a long breath. “I got hit with that poison myself. I think it actually killed my arm. Thank goodness for Steven’s healing powers; it’s good as new.” He flexed his fist. “Gem stuff’s dangerous. It always has been.”

“But how does Steven always get mixed up in it? I mean, you and me, we ain’t got any magic powers to protect him with, but what about his Gem family?” Andy asked. “You can’t tell me out of all them alien ladies that none of them can fight.”

Greg chuckled, taking a bite from his stuffed blue crab. “Oh, they can fight. But sometimes they’re just plain outmatched. Rose’s family, the Diamonds, they’re literally over fifty feet tall. Each.”

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Promise I’m not. One of them picked me up like I was a toy in the palm of her hand, and kidnapped me to a human zoo in space,” said Greg, nonchalantly taking another drink. “Steven and the Gems had to rescue me. Good thing they did, too, since I accidentally started a riot because I wouldn’t say yes to an arranged marriage in the zoo.”

“Greg! What the hell!”

Greg shrugged. “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit, Andy.”

Andy laughed. “Shoot, Greg, that’s what I always liked about you. Always letting stuff roll right off your back. Does anything ever bother you?”

He knew the answer, though. Remembered Greg’s mom and dad, sweet like pie until he saw them chewing out Greg behind the barn, grinding him down with cruel calm words that weren’t even proper yelling. He’d seen how those words stuck to Greg, a corrosive poison all its own.

He remembered it, but didn’t mention it.

Greg answered him. “What can I say? It’s a gift. So what’s been going on with you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Flyin’ around wherever the wind takes me. Spent some time in South America for a couple months. Chilly this time of year south of the Equator, but that’s okay. I like the winter weather. It’s quiet, except when it’s fierce as hell,” said Andy. “Sometimes I just need time to myself, you know?”

“I know,” said Greg. He smiled, taking another drink. “You were always like that as a kid. We’d be playing some loud crazy game and you’d be off by yourself, grumping about how loud our made-up songs were.”

“Did not,” protested Andy.

“Nah, you did.”

“Well, so what? Nothing wrong with alone time.”

“C’mon, like I can talk,” said Greg. “I’m the one who ran off and changed my name, aren’t I? Guess I really needed some alone time.” He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m really glad we reconnected, Andy. I just wish I’d looked for you after Steven was born. I tried writing my folks, but…. They never wrote back. I kinda assumed the rest of the family didn’t want anything to do with us, either.”

“Your folks are stuck-up snobs, though,” said Andy, taking a bite of his crab cake, some of his appetite returning. “It always surprised me, how they had a kid like you. Not that you were a bad kid. Just different. My mom and dad never really got on with them, but they always made the effort because they thought maybe you and me could be friends.”

“Heh. Thanks, Andy. I used to wish sometimes I could’ve had your folks for parents instead. They were good people. At least they would have wanted to meet their grandson.” Greg finished his ale, gazing at the waves behind Andy.

“Your folks are missin’ out,” said Andy. “You got a good kid, Greg. Though I worry about him a little.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno. I mean, maybe it’s nothing,” said Andy hastily, not wanting to step on any toes. “Like I said, he’s a good kid. He puts up with me and my birds and all. I think he’s even birding on his own sometimes. How neat is that? But I saw him at the beach today and it seems like he’s runnin’ himself ragged.”

“I know,” said Greg, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hands. “I’m so proud of him, Andy. Like I said, if it wasn’t for his compassion, I think the Earth would have been toast. He’s so kindhearted. But on the other hand, he works so hard. Harder than I’ve ever worked at anything, except maybe raising him. I know he didn’t have a normal childhood, and I didn’t want him to, but… I do wonder sometimes, how does he do it?”

“How does he?”

“I don’t know,” said Greg, and they fell into a silence, the waves soft and distant in the background.

#steven universe future #suf #andy demayo #uncle andy su #greg universe #steven universe #a world for the birds fic #fanfoolishness' steven universe fic

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lgcmax · 4 years

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𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎 ! i’m coming to you with a very late intro, i know, but i swear i’m not usually this unprepared !! anyways, my name is jada, and this is my chaotic baby maxwell “ MAX ” choi ! i love him to death already and can’t wait to start writing with him ! i was here long ago with the short-lived yet beloved zhao chenglei, but life got in the way ! the two are very different, yet i’m even more stoked to be here the second time around & get things going ! i did create him kind of spontaneously, so his plots & bio page is still wip, but you can find his profile here, and some trivia & plot bunnies below ! oh, and LIKE THIS if you’d like to plot, maybe ? i’ll stop talking now, but i hope to hear from you soon !

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 !

first generation canadian who hails from toronto, canada ! a snow baby forever and always, he loved living there and has nothing but good memories there !

he was born maxwell choi, and he’s still called that by family and some old friends, but once he got to middle school he felt the name was too fancy and wasn’t fitting so dropped the “well” and just became MAX !

though he’s canadian, he’s never really felt he was lacking in terms of his korean identity ! both his parents were born and raised there, korean is actually his first language, and he was taught english through school. since he was two he’s been going to korea for the summer to visit his family, too, so he’s always felt really connected to his culture !

his dad’s a car salesman at his own dealerhsip, and his mom’s an attorney, so he’s lived a really comfortable life. it’s easy to see where his charisma comes from, too ! growing up his dad was more involved in his upbringing, while his mom was on the colder side, so he’s closer to him as he’s the one who was the most loving toward him then and now !

he was expected to take over his dad’s position at the dealership when he was older, but as he grew up he noticed his absolute lack of passion for the career. he thought it fit his dad well, yet couldn’t see him doing something like that !

but during his teenage years he discovered his love for rap ! he always loved listening to it, but when he started rapping along he discovered his true passion.

he didn’t really know what to do with that, however, as it wasn’t a very stable career ! it wasn’t until 2016 when he met someone online through a video game & they became friends that things changed ! they would talk a lot & eventually they introduced him to the world of kpop and ... boom ! everything changed for him. when he realized it wasn’t all girls in frilly skirts ( which hey, wasn’t too bad either ) he found himself being engulfed in this entirely new music genre !

fast forward all the way to 2019, when he auditioned for the company ! it was in january, and there was no way he thought he was gonna make it. they were giving out cds to those who auditioned, and he really just wanted to hear some haru, but it was quite literally the biggest surprise of his life when he got accepted !

his mom was enitrely, and i mean e n t i r e l y, against the idea. she thought a career in the idol industry was fleeting and not profitable and thought it was an embarrassment for him to be apart of. while his father wasn’t thrilled and still has hopes for him to inherit the dealership, he was content seeing his son happy and hoped for his success.

so off max went, to the big city of seoul !! unlike some foreign trainees it wasn’t some great transition for him, in fact he adjusted pretty well ! he had the benefit of being well-travelled and having visited the country often, as well as being comfortable in his korean.

it wasn’t all peaches and roses, however, and he did have some difficulty ! it was the first time he was coming to stay, so he had a tendency to get homestick, and despite everything, he still stuck out. he had a lot of mannerisms, style choices, and just obvious indicators he was a foreigner. he also had to finish off the last semester of his senior year in korea, and he was bummed he missed out on those senior year experiences like graduation, senior parties, and just being with the people he’d grown up with !

whenever he was having trouble, he couldn’t really call home either, since he knew they doubted him and didn’t want to give them any more reason to ! he’s not really the type to share when he’s feeling down, so he really internalized a lot of his emotions at the time, and the bit that he didn’t he confided in with his few friends he’d made by then. definitely a bit of a rough patch for him !

he also may have had some trouble getting along with trainees ! he has a very blunt & extroverted personality, which didn’t really fit with typical korean social norms !

aside from that, max was a LOT more chill than some of these people. he was passionate about rapping, but some trainees were “debut-or-die” level and he just wasn’t that far ! he’d just kind of look at them like .... why are you making this such a big deal ? i’m just here to have fun ?? so he had a tendency to slack off a lot during the first few months of training and try to bend the rules as much as he could behind the trainer’s backs without getting caught ! which i can imagine would get on some trainee’s nerves.

he does go to university, a condition by his parents for letting him go to korea. he’s a music production major and marketing minor at the moment, but he’s changed his mind quite a few times ! honestly, he’s not all that interested in attending school, but doesn’t have much of a choice and knows it’s an important backup should this whole idol thing not work ! he does enjoy the social life he gets from it, though, because he would’ve had a much harder time adjusting and meeting friends had he not been in school.

now, he’s still pretty sluggish, but after a few company punishments, he’s shaping up and learning how to work harder. he just passed his year anniversary training with the company, and though he has a lot to learn he’s showed promise in his time there !

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 !

very extroverted !!! and he always has been. he feels really comfortable and large environments and is the main reason he thrives as an idol ! can and will pick up a conversation with just about anyone, particularly those who aren’t like him but rather on the more introverted spectrum !

like stated before, he doesn’t really like talking about his emotions if they’re personal / negative. it makes him uncomfortable & awkward and thinks it makes everyone else feel that way too, so avoids it like the plague. if he’s emotional with you ... you’re a keeper !

tends to make light out of every scenario, due to his optimistic nature. he has the mentality that life’s too short to be stressed, so does his best to avoid it whenever he gets the chance ! it can be appropriate at times, and sometimes people perceive it as him not taking things seriously, but really he’s trying to make things better !

a little cocky, considering his lack of experience. he kind of thinks he’s the s***, and he honestly could use a little more humility ! but he’s used to being held on this sort of pedestal, and because of it has a looot of confidence a lot of the time !

very loyal, once you befriend him he’s yours for life ! he values trust and longevity in a friendship, so does his all to give it to you. on the other hand, if you lose his trust, things .... get a little disastrous. he isn’t one to forgive something like that and will quite literally block someone out his life if they do break his trust.

on that note ... he’s also very stubborn !! he likes things the way he wants them, and can hold a grudge for years if he wants to. this is one of the exceptions to his “ hakuna matata ” mentality lmao, but he’s working on it ! he used to have trouble accepting criticism from trainers if he didn’t agree with them, but is slowly getting better at listening to feedback in order to improve.

tends to be a little manipulative ! he doesn’t mean to use it maliciously, but it does sometimes go like that. like i said, he’s got that desire to win other’s over to get what he wants like his parents, so ... that can translate into a little deception !

loves loves loves video games !!! will talk about them all day, if you ask. he’s been hooked ever since the first time he got a controller in his hand and is always looking for some new gaming buddies !

has a secret tiktok account that he can’t really publicize but people have to know ?? he just renegades too good not to have some practice folks

he compulsively says “ let’s get it ” and “ boom ” like the joke he is and it’s a problem, really !! someone please call him out or just .... stop him

also !! he is entirely too CLUMSY for his good. he trips over people, trips over his own limbs, trips over a i r !! there’s just no telling with this guy. he’s so stupid when it comes to coordination, i swear, i almost worry he needs to see a doctor lmao !! but thank god for his clumsiness coming in handy at the exact moment he needs to have a little humility.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 !

the friend he played video games with who introduced him to kpop ( see above ) !! they’ve been friends for roughly 3 years now and they’re the reason he even considered pursuing a career as an idol, so i imagine they’ve grown pretty close ! since they played online, this person doesn’t have to be from canada, and really any muse that knew korean or english well enough to communicate back then !

are there any canadian muses ?? i’m not sure ! if there is, i’d love to have some childhood friends who he grew up with ! give me all the angst, softness, or romance that you can muster up !! i love a good backstory.

some friends who he spent the summers in korea with ! he visited june through august of every year, and sometimes spent other holiday breaks there. so there’s definitely a chance for them to grow close ! maybe even a short-lived romance where they hadn’t expected to meet again ??

a senior / older trainee who showed max the ropes ! while he knew a good deal about korea he didn’t have a clue about being a trainee, so definitely could’ve used a bit of help there !! unintentionally this person became a sort of parental figure to max, even if they didn’t mean to or if they’re not significantly older ! either way, they were his first real source of support since the move, and nowadays he’s still very close to them and looks to them for any sort of help or advice he needs !

pleeeeease give him a little crush !! he goes out his way to impress those that he likes, and turns into a true softie !! on the other hand, a bitter exes plot or even exes on good terms could be fun too ! can you tell i’m a romantic yet ? 😥

someone who’s entirely put off by the thought of max ! someone who, unlike him, is planned, logical, or very cutthroat and passionate about becoming an idol ! give me someone to nitpick him for his lifestyle, and someone for him to bicker with and just create a little drama !!

video game buddies !! he doesn’t have the whole setup like he used to back home, but he does nearly always have his switch on him if your muse is in the mood for a little friendly competition !! fair warning .... he does get competitive !

male dorm h and male rookie evening trainee group gang, let’s go !! that’s a lot to say, but in simple terms, if your muse trains or dorms with him let’s get something going ! max is still a new trainee and needs some friends to spend the long days with, he promises to make it worth their while !! max has the power of making nearly every scenario entertaining, after all !

#lgc:intro #this is so late i'm sorry :c #but i filled this to the brim with content !!#also tysm for the cute welcomes !! i've heard my notifs going off & am getting to everything asap !!#also i'll rb this tomm !!

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serahsanguine · 5 years

Text

Vacation Series Pt. 2. Halloween Surprises Ch, 3

This is the second book in a two-part series

Book one. - pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6

Book Two. - pt. 1, pt, 2,

All chapters can be found Here on Ao3

This Chapter Rating; NC-17 NSFW

Tagging; @skullsmuldon @today-in-fic @baronessblixen @peacenik0

*********************************************

Chapter 3; Day 3 - bowling.

Scully woke up with Mulder’s erection pressing into the small of her ass. She couldn’t help but wiggle her hips against it hearing him moan in his sleep but as if on cue he woke up his lips against the back of her neck.

“Good morning beautiful.”

“Morning.”

His hand moved to around her front his finger trailing a line from her belly button to her breast.

“Then did you remove your belly button ring?”

“Couple of days ago.”

“Ahh” his fingers moved to her nipples pinching them.

“It was getting, oh fuck.”

She lost all thought when his tongue started dancing on her neck. His fingers trailing from one breast to the other and then down her stomach to the apex of her legs.

“Mulder please.”

“Your so wet Scully.”

“Don’t tease me please I need you.”

“I can see that but I want to please you, not just fuck you.”

He lightly pushed her shoulder down so now her back was flush with the mattress his mouth instantly found hers, they were wet, succulent, pouty and flushed. His tongue found hers and they slid against each other with a passion never felt before.

His fingers were back in her folds spreading her juices around extending the pleasure even more. He could watch her come undone with every movement of his fingers but decided he wanted to do more for her this morning as he looked down at her.

Her beauty beyond belief, her freckled skin flush with their lovemaking, her breasts so full and pronounced fitting perfectly in his hand. Her nipples slightly darker than they normally are but that could be the lighting. He trailed kisses from the crook of her neck down her chest. Taking a nipple into his mouth biting, suckling his tongue swirling making her moan and gasp under his scrutiny.

He moved his kisses down the middle of her stomach and one hand feathering up and down the side of her ribs. He kissed each hip bone before working his way down to in between her legs knowing she was literally dripping with desire he ran his tongue down each side of her vulva sliding his fingers into her and curling it finding her sweet spot.

Her back arched and her moans became louder as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, finding her clit with his tongue, swishing, sliding sucking creating magic. Her hands were in his hair first just running her finger through it, but as her climax began to build his fingers became too slow and she gripped his hair as his fingers slid in one more time, and with one last flick she came undone, her body shattering around him, her world colliding with his.

He stopped what he was doing and watched as her body trembled as the aftershocks took over her body. As soon as she opened her eyes he knew without words she wanted him inside her. With one hand next to her head, his body in between her legs and covering her, his other hand slid his member with ease inside her. Her body hugging him and he could feel her still pulsating around him. He filled her up and she enjoyed it. He started moving his hips and felt her stretch to acclimate to his girth. It didn't matter how many time they made love each time was different, new and exhilarating. She seemed to match his pace her legs wrapped around his hips crossing behind his back she moved to sit up, her body now resting on his thighs her hands wrapping around his neck looking directly in his eyes.

He took the invitation to start kissing her exposed neck. Her wet skin grazing his the bodies colliding in ways they never had before the new angle meant he was hitting her cervix and she, by all measures, was loving it.

She felt her body began to crave her climax and his pumping began to get frantic which only meant he was close to. With a mere few thrusts, her body shattered like glass around him her eyes closed and she savoured the feeling of him being inside her.

Her body became limp as she let the aftershocks take over but that did not stop him, he was so close and within seconds he erupted inside her his essence flowing from him. His head resting in the crook of her neck. Their bodies still entwined.

When he came back to himself, he slowly slid her off his hips and back onto the mattress she opened her eyes and looked at him.

“I could definitely get used to this,” Mulder said. He kissed her forehead and stood up and got off the bed.

“Mmm,” she replied sleepily.

“Go back to sleep if you want.” but when he looked around she was already back asleep he leaned over her wrapping a blanket around her form before heading off to the bathroom.

Later that day, Mulder, Scully and all three Lone Gunmen were in the main house Frohike had just finished cleaning the dishes from lunch and Scully was next to him drying. While Mulder, Langly and Byers were sitting in the living room.

“So Mulder do you fancy going bowling with us later?” Langly asked.

“How would that work there would be 5 of us?” Mulder said confused.

“Well we have thought about it and we could have to sides and one officater. And after each game we meaning us three” Byers pointed at himself first then Langly and Frohike “We would swap as officiater.

“Well I don’t see a problem with it but I would have to ask Scully.”

“Ask Scully what?” she said coming up behind him and leaning over the back of the sofa wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck placing a small kiss there.

“Do you want to go bowling later?” Mulder asked.

“Yeah, I Don’t see why not. What time are we thinking?”

“Oh not for a couple hours,” Langly said.

“We could all take the van,” Frohikie pipped up.

The van in question was a black transit, with rust around the wheel arches and along the door hinges.

“Like I’m risking going in that van,” Scully replied disgustedly.

“Oy Besty is perfectly safe and completely clean I pride myself in that beautiful van,” Frohike said a little hurt.

Scully looked at him and instantly felt guilty. “I’m sorry I didn't… ”

“It’s fine just don’t insult the van it’s his pride and joy,” Byers said quietly to Scully and she nodded in reply.

*************************

Bowling Alley

All five of them were on bowling lane 8 so right in the middle of bowling lanes that were there. It was Mulder and Scully versus Frohike and Langly, with Byers keeping tally. To get to this decision they had to each drawn straws from Mulder's hand and who drew the shortest officiated.

What the Lone Gunman did not mention to either Mulder or Scully was this was no ordinary bowling experience. Because during the week of Halloween they used bio-illuminance bowling ball as well as pins. On each side of the lane were different neon strips. They each had to wear glow sticks and images of cartoon ghosts, spiders and ghouls were projected on the walls around them.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Scully whispered to Mulder.

“Me neither but let’s enjoy it”

“Of course I will it’s been years since I last went bowling, plus we're so going to beat their asses,” she said eagerly.

“Definitely, but I warn you now Frohike is a sore loser,” he replied and chuckled bringing his arm around her shoulders and bringing her close, placing a kiss on top on top of her head.

“Oh, I know how to deal with him don’t worry,” she said slyly.

“Sometimes Scully you are a wicked woman.”

“Me?” she replied mockingly with an evil smile on her face as she stood up and went to find the bar for a small diet coke.

“Guys were going to need to flip a coin to see who goes first,” Mulder said to the Gunmen.

“Only if the delightful Scully flips the coin”

“Fine, Frohike wait till she comes back.”

No more than five minutes later Scully returned back with a diet Coke and an iced tea in hand placing them down on the table.

“Frohike wants you to flip a coin to see who bowls first.” Mulder placed the coin in her hand.

“Frohike, heads or tales?” she asked.

“Tails,” he said calmly.

“I take it you having heads than,” she said looking at him with a smile. His reply was a simple nod. She placed the coin on her thumb and flipped the coin, catching it and placing it on the back of her hand. She looked at her hand and it was tales. “Frohike start’s, good luck lads.” They each went and sat on their sides, Byers on the end, it was time to bowl.

Frohike went first picking a ball placing his fingers in the hole and walking over the lane lifting his arm behind him and swinging forward and letting go. The ball hitting the wood with a thud and rolling towards the pins.

“7-10 split on your first roll bad luck there,” she said smirking.

“Shit” Frohike muttered under his breath.

He looked over at Scully and she stuck her tongue out and slightly mocked him, but in a playful way. Mulder laughed and Langly scowled.

He waited for his ball and rolled again hitting one of the pins. Frohike looked at the floor and sat back down next to Langly.

“The floor awaits my lady,” Frohike said in a Lordly manner.

“Thank you oh kind Sir,” Scully replied in the same manner. She stood up grabbing her ball placing her fingers where they were meant to go and throwing Mulder a wink.

Mulder could not help but stare at her ass or at least the silhouette of her ass in the darkness.

“Mulder stop staring at my ass and concentrate on the game.” He was busted.

She threw her arm back and let the ball go, it hit the wood, all were watching the green glow of the ball roll towards the yellow pins and watching them fall one by one. She jumped up in the air as she hit the strike. Mulder clapping and Frohike looked devastated.

They spent at least 3 - 4 hours bowling, they had 4 games in total, the first game Mulder and Scully won, the game after that Byers took over Langlys spot so now Langly was officiating the points and they won that game as well. The third game Mulder and Scully won again with Mulder leading with points this time. Frohike wasn’t at all happy so they decided to have one last game and even put money on it saying they would win. Frohike was officiating, Langly and Byers bowling and they lost by a massive margin with Mulder and Scully leading with 4 strikes and a couple of spares. Mulder was right Frohike was a sore loser but to cheer him up Scully kissed his cheek and he instantly blushed but did not make another sound about bowling.

They were finally at home, The Lone Gunman had gone to the main house nicking some of the wood without permission but promising to chop more in the morning. Mulder was adding wood to the fire in the living room after starting the one in the bedroom. He looked over his shoulder at Scully. She was sitting on the couch in one of his T-shirts and some frilly panties, her hair in a small ponytail with her glasses on her nose. Her head in the book they got yesterday.

He turned back around watching the fire crackle and spark in front of him thinking about the future and listening to the waves.

“Come here I want to read one story with you before we go to sleep.”

He was so deep in thought watching the fire he completely missed what Scully said.

“What did you say?”

“I said stop staring at the fire and sit next to me so we can read a story before we go to sleep.”

He stood up, his bones cracking and creaking, he walked over to Scully his bare feet barely making a sound on the floor.

He sat next to her and she instantly hugging into his side closing her eyes, listening to his heartbeat. They stayed like this for a few minutes and she reopened her eyes and began to read.

“A Haunted House of 1862. During the civil war, a man owned a beautiful ancestral home. The family which owned the house came into financial hardship. They had to rent their home in order to save it. As soon as the first stranger set foot in the house trouble began. No one would stay in the house, it became a jinx. Stories were heard of hauntings and unaccountable happenings. Strangers moved in and quickly moved out. Finally, people began calling the home ‘The haunted house.’ a brave young man who scoffed at the idea of ‘ghosts and spirits’ decided to rent the house. He built a roaring fire in the living room fireplace. It was getting late, by the fire he sat there in an old rocking chair, he stretched his legs to the blaze, and he was amazed to see a big black catwalk into the room.”

She looked up at him and his head was resting on the back of the sofa his eyes closed his red pouty lips slightly open and a soft snore escaped there. He was asleep but she wanted to finish the story. So she carried on reading out loud not caring if no one is listening.

“The cat was large and tall; his body silhouetted against the wall. The man’s face turned white as a sheet. He quickly jumped out of his seat; he heard a voice cry - ‘There is no one here, but you and I!’ - This is the man reply ‘And soon there will be no one here but you!’ - wow!”

She looked back up at Mulder and kissed him on the cheek.

“Come on sleepy head time to go to bed, we can’t have you sleeping on the sofa”

He grumbled but complied and followed her up the stairs undressing and slipping under the sheets his body wrapping around hers, both of them drifting back to sleep.

#txf fanfic #TXF #msr fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #mulder and scully fanfic #The X-Files #the x files #the xfiles #The X Files Fanfic #the x-files fanfic

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breezethegame · 5 years

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Dev Log #1-ish?

Seeing how I missed like two weeks of mini blog posts, I’m deeming this one an actual “Devlog” (fanfare and such yada yada). I'm just going to call it a Dev Log.

So much has gone on the last few weeks that I’m struggling to piece it all together, so here is an attempt:

Computer Adventures:

So, I don’t haven’t built a dev machine from the ground up for years now, (maybe since college?) and typically just upgrade parts as I see fit (graphics card, ram, processor, etc).

Well, my motherboard has been giving me problems for close to a year now, where it occasionally decides “yeah, don’t really care about your boot device today”, as well as other miscellaneous things that required me to do things like removing the CMOS battery or main drive. I was also running out of upgrade options, so I got a bit fed up and decided it might be time to replace it.

I wasn't going to be cost-effective to get another LGA1150 board and CPU, and I try to build computers with future-proofing in mind. I was also looking to get a smaller case too. I already had a nice GPU (GTX 1070) that I got a couple years ago before cryptocurrency “did the thing” and graphics card's prices got ridiculous, so didn’t have to worry about replacing that.

Ultimately, I decided to do a "completely new" build.

I’ve been building computers for friends and family for many years, so I literally woke up the next day and said, “I’m about to build this thing blind”.

Well, kinda learned the hard way of the hassle of going at it that way (along with committing a couple noobish mistakes)...

Shopping Time!

Lesson 1: Double check store inventory before heading to a store that's 20 miles away

Well, I choose the nearest Fry's Electronics (it was Saturday, and I really wanted to get a machine built the same day). I get there and start looking for all of the cases and motherboards (severally disappointed that they only had one Micro ATX board in stock, something I was looking to get for the more compact build, but not as restrictive as a Mini-ITX, which they had several of). Impatient as ever, I decided I was going to pick it up.

While looking at other things, I hear another customer talking to sales rep, and the rep mentions that they don’t have a certain CPU in stock. After listening even more (I’m noisy, sorry), he mentions that they have NO Intel CPUs in stock. I decided that I had to get in on this convo.

He informs up that as of late, their store may receive like, 10 at a time, and also mentions that their other location doesn’t have any either (both of these locations are 20+ miles away from me in Dallas).

I also find out that they don’t have the specific ram I was looking for either (I ended up getting something a little pricier). He ends up informing me that the Micro Center 10 minutes away from where we were should have some CPUs.

So I end up at the Micro Center and they did have the CPUs, as well as a case that caught my attention. They also had a lot of other nice things too! Kind of wished I would have known to go to Micro Center first, despite it being much farther from home.

Building Time!?

Lesson Two: Get a head-start of figuring out your plan for wire management and how pieces will fit in your new case

I got home and was ready to build. I spent a lot of time trying to get the interior wire management together since it’s a much smaller case than my last one. I ended up spending a couple of hours getting it just right (I don’t intend to go back into this machine once it’s complete since I’m nearly maxing it out spec wise for now), before moving out to everything else.

Getting my old water-cooling radiator in was a bit tough (a very tight squeeze), but after that, adding in the ram, etc was a Breeze.

Hours went by, I installed Windows, software, etc…

I go to shut it down (after having done several restarts for the software installs prior), and it doesn’t want to power off. After 10 minutes of waiting, I manually power it off. Whatever, I’m super tired at this point.

The next day (Last Sunday), I’ve encountered several other smaller issues. Updating the BIOS didn’t help either. Great…

Okay, Building Time For Real

Lesson 3: Kinda make sure things boot up and work before you get too early to clean/tighten things down in your build

After taking the whole thing apart, I ended up swapping out that mobo for another of the same kind (since Frys didn’t have any others), but then ended up ordering different board on Amazon. So waited another day or so and the new board arrived (it’s now Tuesday evening).

I rewired/rebuilt the computer once again, installed the software, etc. I spent most of Wednesday day checking in with the team and catching up with emails and such. Then Thursday as I was beginning to do some work, I noticed that the computer was saying that my Windows wasn’t activated. I go to my Microsoft account to retrieve my key, and the page wouldn’t load to provide me the key and would only show the transaction.

Lesson 4: Make sure to keep your activation key(s) somewhere other than online/digital if you can

It’s super late and the option to speak to someone was obviously closed, but they had a chat option, so I reached someone through there. After back and forth for a while, and him remoting into the machine to check the activation status, he tells me that the key might not be showing up because it was an “upgrade”, so I would need to buy another copy of Windows 10 again.

Lesson 5: Tell "Aaron" from Microsoft no over and over, and don't fall for possibly sketchy things like sales pitches that come out of nowhere

I originally bought Windows Home and upgraded it to Pro on the same day back in 2015, so I told him that and he kept insisting that I buy Windows 10 again. I refused and told him that I wouldn’t and that I’d take care of this in the morning, and he then offered that I could pay a smaller fee to reactivate my Windows 10, but it would be a one time fee of like, $40. (I refused again).

When I go to end the remote session, he then informs me that he “Really wants to help me out” and ends up activating it anyway. (This whole thing seemly suspicious, I ended up recording it). I watched him activate Windows for over 10 minutes through some manual process (it's almost 2am, and I had work in the morning). He eventually finishes and thanks/apologies. Not sure why I even had to go through all that, but whatever...

I ended up spending Friday wrapping up installs and doing a fresh system backup afterward, before moving along with pulling down the Breeze project from source control, and reminding myself of where I left off…

Anyway, long story short, I tried to get a system built in a day, and it ends up taking almost a week!

Okay, but did you get any dev done these last two weeks?

Yeah, somehow!

Health Bar and Health System:

First thing the team and I did was evaluate a few things that are critical, but we’ve been bouncing back and forth on: The Health System

(WIP of a concept we're working on for his health bar)

The reason for this is mostly for game balancing purposes:

Is this a game that focuses on having Breeze (the player) overwhelm his opponents with an array of abilities (think Devil May Cry/Bayonetta, Kingdom Hearts, God of War?)

Or is this a game where Breeze must focus on finding openings to deal damage and avoid an onslaught of danger (think Hollow Knight, Ori, Megaman, pretty much most NES/SNES platformers)

Game design… is hard at times. Sometimes you think something will work well in theory, but when you get down into the specifics, you begin to question how certain things will balance out.

You’d think something like designing a health bar isn’t too trivial, until you realize that the Health bar represents the player’s health, and the player’s health influences the character’s survivability, which is then tied to other factors: what options does the player have to “survive” and what threatens that?

Anyway, not going to get too deep into that because I lack the PhD.

Basically, there was a bit of a rift in the UI design process that led to really evaluating game design items, and I’ve been working towards seeing what Breeze’s options are and how to limit them in areas, or how I can build the world and it’s inhabitants in a way that will make this all work out.

It’s not going to be something that will likely be answered quickly, but nevertheless, that’s Game Design™ sometimes...

Frame Data:

[Insert Craig of the Creek frame data meme here]

I used to have a really convoluted way of tackling this in which I would have events in the animation that if given an ID, it will look for a set of “Frame Data” and then look for a specific frame and then load that information up.

It would then pass that frame information into the active hitbox and if something is in it, math and physics and stuff would happen.

I didn’t change this up too much, but I did reduce the setup process by allowing you to just drop the FrameData right into the frame of the animation (no more extra array and ID lookup stuff!)

New Particles:

We’ve got new particles! There’s one for jumping/landing/dashing dust, as well as one for wall sliding.

In the last update, I added a feature that generates “points” at the edges of a character’s collider box (as well as other “checks”), so this helped in making sure that the particles are created in the right place. This was especially challenging with the wall sliding particle.

Also, with the wall sliding particle, I needed to implement a way to have a “looping” particle effect, as well as making sure the particle effect follows Breeze as he’s moving down the wall

Developing Sprite Model Sheets

We've got models sheets completed for just about all of the cast members, though, since there's several artists on the project, as well as animators (including I), I wanted to get some sheets together that would work as a base for animators to use, and to eliminate elements that aren't needed in the sprites (minor details that would be seen in promotional art or more detailed art in general), as well as get a proper size for the characters in-game.

Misc. Features

I’ve done various other quality of life code changes to make it easier to do certain things, like creating new attacks, making the screen pause/slow-mo when Breeze changes forms, and updated my Debugging Manager so that I can hide/show certain debug messages.

I’ve also been working on a RoomManager, and writing features to look handle what happens when the player enters a room (like starting a cutscene, showing UI, spawning things, etc)

I’ve also been looking into updating the game’s Music Handler, mostly for how to handle looping a song after it's intro plays, as well as finding ways to add effects to tracks!

Other Breeze things:

I’ve been working on getting shirts done through Teespring, and I would have loved to show off some of the shirts I ordered, but Teespring shipped them using DHL, and somewhere between DHL and USPS, my shirts have been sitting in shipping limbo for 5-6 days, despite being like a city or two away from me… Maybe tomorrow ~

Also, working on a couple of enamel pin designs! Haven’t figured out the maker yet, but designs are coming along nicely!

Quick Test Build Coming

So, a week or two ago, I planned on releasing a quick build for the Drop Tier backers and above. There was a lot of features and such that I wanted to get done... before my computer stuff happened. Our goal was to have one out before the end up March, so....

I’m going to release one anyway. Maybe tomorrow?

I’ll be creating a post for those in the eligible tiers once I’m done compiling/building it! Please keep in mind that this build will be very minimal and exists to test out controls/physics. I wanted to make a strong first impression, but I'll chill on the whole "striving for perfection" thing for now!

Also, I'm on vacation this week, so I'll be cramming on Breeze stuff this whole week to make up for lost time!

#Breeze in the Clouds #game development #Indiegame #patreon #Breeze #sodo

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buzzdixonwriter · 4 years

Text

The Rise Of Skywalker Review [SPOILERICIOUS]

=0=

I’m going to post all the SPOILER stuff way below in section 3, so as not to ruin anything for anybody who hasn’t seen the movie yet.

You’ll get plenty of warnings.

=1=

In my old age I’m starting to divide creative works into three groups: Good, bad, and not-so-good.

A good creative work is any where the strengths overwhelmingly outweigh the weaknesses; a bad one is the obverse.

A not-so-good work is one where the strengths and weaknesses balance each other out.

It’s the kind of a work that will doubtless please those audience members who really enjoy the strengths in it, and equally irritate those annoyed by the weaknesses.

In my estimation, a not-so-good work is one done with straight forward intent and as often as not, a fair degree of technical and aesthetic competency, but fails to jell as a cohesive whole.

No one need feel ashamed for enjoying a not-so-good work, and no one involved in the making of a not-so-good work should feel bad about their contribution (unless, of course, their contribution turns out to be one of the weaknesses that should have been avoided).

Theodore Sturgeon famously observed “90% of everything is crap.”

I think that’s a little harsh.

I agree with him that only 10% of anything is good, but think only 40% falls into the crap bin.

Most stuff falls in the 50% I call not-so-good.

Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise Of Skywalker is in that 50%.

. . .

The good stuff is really good.

Elsewhere I’ve posted my enthusiasm for Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens and Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi hinge in no small part on just how emo Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) could get, and holy cow, does he ever deliver in The Rise Of Skywalker.

Easily my favorite parts of the picture.

Doesn’t really mesh with anything else in the movie but, hey, ya can’t have everything, right? (I’ll discuss his performance in a little more detail in section =3=.)

Other performances range from adequate to doing-the-best-they-can-with-the-material to okay-smartass-you-try-recreating-a-dead-actress-via-CGI.

The dialog in The Rise Of Skywalker is the worst of any film in the series, with the possible exception Star Wars Episode III: The Revenge Of The Sith, which I haven’t seen and have no intention of seeing (but more on that below…).

It’s not an attempt to depict characters talking, it’s a series of shouted declarative sentences.

Elsewhere I’ve referred to The Rise Of Skywalker as the best Jason Of Star Command episode ever made.

For those who don’t get the reference, Jason Of Star Command was a low budget albeit imaginative Saturday morning kid-vid Star Wars rip off by Filmation Studios.

To make sure the youngest kids in the audience understood what was going on, they tended to hammer home plot points repeatedly.

DRAGOS Jason! In just sixteen hours my space fleet will destroy Star Command!

STAR COMMAND Jason! Dragos is going to destroy us with his space fleet in just sixteen hours!

JASON Don’t worry, Star Command! I’ll stop Dragos from destroying you with his space fleet in sixteen hours.

NARRATOR (i.e., Norm Prescott) Jason has only sixteen hours to stop Dragos from destroying Star Command with his space fleet!

There is far too much of that in The Rise Of Skywalker.

Ten minutes into the movie, and there was already far too much of that…

The opening credit crawl reveals an off camera plot development that literally deserved an entire film of its own to fully explore.

There is no sustained coherent plot to The Rise Of Skywalker:

Well, we gotta do this,

now we gotta do that,

first we gotta find this thing,

then we gotta find that thing,

now I’m feeling blue,

now I’m gonna get encouraged,

etc., etc., and of course, etc.

Everything feel frenetic, not fast paced.

There are far too many scenes that exist just to sell action figures and toy vehicles.

There was a desire to tie off loose ends and say good-bye to favorite characters and that was a mistake.

It undercuts the urgency of the story (or rather, the desired urgency; the fact the film is called The Rise Of Skywalker means everybody in the freakin’ audience ALREADY KNOWS HOW THE DAMN THING IS GONNA END!

(This is not a problem unique to Star Wars. Gene Siskell famously upbraided Roger Ebert for spoiling the ending to the third Star Trek movie, to which Ebert retorted, “Oh, come on! They’re going to call a forty million dollar movie The Search For Spock and not find him?!?!?”)

There is one nice little breather scene (“little” only in screen time; visually it’s pretty big and impressive): The Festival of the Ancestors on the desert world Pasaana that gives a nice touch of exotic space opera flavor to the proceedings.

All of the Star Wars movies offer really great art direction and visual design, and The Rise Of Skywalker certainly delivers in that category.

Which makes the occasional mediocre special effects shots all the more obvious.

The Rise Of Skywalker has a few painfully obvious matte shots, a few shots obviously composed in post-production, and a few shots where the audience becomes aware the actors are performing in front of a greenscreen.

You can get away with mediocre visuals so long as there is consistency in their mediocrity.

If everything else consistently looks great, a so-so shot spoils the illusion; if everything consistently looks so-so, it’s simply part of the work’s look.

Indeed, you’re better off with consistently mediocre work highlighted by a few great shots than consistently great stuff undercut by a few mediocre ones.

Best thing about the movie is the complete lack of Jar Jar Binks.

=2=

Before diving deeper in The Rise Of Skywalker, let’s look at the series as a whole (just the numbered theatrical episodes, not standalone films, TV series, video games, comics, novels, etc.).

I’ve said the original Star Wars was the movie an entire generation had been waiting all their lives to see.

George Lucas wanted to do Flash Gordon but when Universal turned him down, created his own space opera.

Lucas, it needs be noted, is not a good writer.

Whatever visual talents he has, they don’t extend to telling a good story.

One can easily find early drafts of Star Wars online, and while they all share certain elements, they’re all pretty bad.

The development of Star Wars the movie grew organically with storyboard and production art, characters and incidents changing and evolving along the way.

It’s long been rumored that a more skilled writer than Lucas came in to do the final draft; one thing’s for sure, the shooting script is head and shoulders above the earlier drafts.

Star Wars the original Han-shoots-first-dammit theatrical release is very much a product of the 1970s.

20th Century Fox thought they had a good enough kiddee matinee movie for summer release; they expected their big sci-fi blockbuster of the year to be Damnation Alley.

Instead, they hit a nerve and found themselves with a blockbuster on their hands.

Lucas did show one great example of foresight: He trademarked all the names / characters / vehicles and held the licenses on them, not 20th Century Fox.

This gave him the war chest he needed to build the Lucasfilm empire.

And let’s give Lucas and his crew their due: They added immeasurably to the technical art of film making, as well as making several entertaining films.

What Lucas did not fully envision was how to mold his Star Wars material into a coherent and thematically cohesive saga.

He started out with grandiose plans -- four trilogies with a standalone film connecting each for a total of 15 movies -- but that gradually got whittled down to 12, then 9.

After Star Wars Episode VI: The Return Of The Jedi, Lucas put the Star Wars movie series on hold, waiting for film making technology to develop to the point where he could tell the stories the way he wanted to tell them.

Okay, fair enough.

But the problem is that while the film making technology improved, the technology of the Star Wars universe didn’t.

As I said, the original Star Wars is very much a 70s movie in taste / tone / style / sensibility.

While the designs look sufficiently sci-fi, they reflect robots and spacecraft designs of the 1970s -- in fact, even earlier in many cases.

That fit in with Lucas’ “used universe” look and the tag line “A long ago in a galaxy far, far away...”

But compare the original Star Wars with Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Kubrick spent a lot of time researching where technology was heading.

Long before visual displays and vector graphics became commonplace in real world aircraft, he showed them being used in the future.

The first example of what we refer to today as a computer tablet appeared in 2001 as a throwaway background detail.

Kubrick’s next film was A Clockwork Orange and he successfully predicted punk culture a decade ahead of reality (his only mistake being the assumption white, not black, would be the base color).

Star Wars Eps I - III take place a generation before the original Star Wars movie.

Star Wars Eps VII - IX take place a generation after.

Name a two generation span since the start of the industrial age that is not marked by radical technological change that produces an ensuing change in the social order.

Now I grant you, the Star Wars universe isn’t trying to tell that kind of story, but the story it is telling is static.

Characters in The Rise Of Skywalker talk about cloning as if it were A Really Big Deal.

Cloning today is cutting edge bio-tech, to be sure, but it’s already common place.

It’s as if the Star Wars characters were getting worked up over steam engines.

One can intercut scenes from the movies and, unless one is a familiar with each movie, it’s impossible to tell one film from another.

Lucas’ financial success enabled him to issue edicts re Star Wars (and other Lucasfilm projects) that undercut the strengths of his projects.

Lucas is a technological guru and a savvy businessman, but he really struggles to tell a story.

Frankly, I think he would have been a better film maker if he’d spent a decade or so making American Graffiti scale movies, not space operas and epic fantasies and adventure movies.

His decision to make the original Star Wars the fourth episode in his saga and going back to start his story with his villain was fatally flawed.

I grant following the Skywalker saga from Anakin to Luke to Rey could work if it started with Anakin.

But what he did was the equivalent of the James Bond movies jumping back in time to follow the pre-Bond career of Ernst Stavo Blofeld.

(And the Bond movies, at least up until the Daniel Craig era, are all standalone films insofar as one does not have to see any of the previous films to understand and enjoy the one being watched, not does the sequence they’re viewed in matter. And the Craig films were conceived from the beginning as having a coherent overall arc, so in that case they are the exception to the rule.)

The joyous whiz-bang space opera of the original Star Wars got bogged down in a lot of meaningless politics and talks of trade treaties, none of which explained why anyone would want to conquer the universe in order to rule it as a decrepit, diseased dictator in a dark hole.

Look at Hitler and Stalin and Castro and Mao and the Kim family in North Korea.

These guys enjoyed themselves (well, Hitler did until things went south for him). They loved the attention and went around preening themselves in public.

The off screen Empire (and implied Emperor) of the original Star Wars served that film well: It was a story about a tactical conflict, not a treatise on the philosophy of governance.

Lucas’ universe does not make sense even in its own context.

And because of that, it becomes harder and harder to fully engage with it.

A sci-fi movie doesn’t have to explain everything, but it has to at least imply there is an underlying order that links up.

Lucas began subverting his own universe almost immediately.

The Force was originally presented as a spiritual discipline that any sufficiently dedicated intelligent being could gain access to. (Robots seem to be specifically excluded from The Force, implying it needs a biological connection. But that would seem to exclude intelligences that may not be organic in the commonly accepted sense of the word, which means such beings cannot appear in the Star Wars universe, which means…well, I digress…)

That was a big hunk of the original Star Wars’ appeal, the thought that literally anybody could become a Jedi if they so desired.

It speaks to a religious bent in audiences from many different cultures around the world, and it offers up an egalitarian hope that allows everyone access to the Star Wars fantasy (“fantasy” in this context meaning the shared ideal).

But already in Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back Lucas began betraying his original concept, sowing the seeds for self-serving deception and innate superiority as endemic in The Force.

By the time he got around to Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Lucas abandoned the hope established in the original Star Wars movie.

Now one has to be a special somebody, not just dedicated.

Mind you, that sort of story has its adherents, too.

Way back in the 1940s sci-fi fans were saying “Fans are slans” in order to claim superiority over “mundanes”. Today many Harry Potter fans like to think of themselves as inherently superior to “Muggles”.

It’s a very appealing idea, so appealing that the United States of America is based on it, the assumption being that white people are endowed with more blessings -- and therefore more rights -- than non-white people (add force multipliers such as “rich” / “male” / “Christian” / “straight” and you get to lord it over everybody).

Lucas with his stupid midichlorians robbed audiences of their healthy egalitarian fantasy and replaced it with a far more toxic elitism.

It appeals to the narcissistic stain in the human soul, and encourages dominance and bullying and cruelty and harm as a result.

It’s an elitism that requires a technologically and sociologically stagnant society, one where clones and robots and slaves can all co-exist and nobody points out they are all essentially the same thing.

A progressive society -- and here I use “progressive” strictly in a scientific and technological sense (though as stated above, advances in scientific fields invariably lead to changes elsewhere) -- does not let such conditions exist unchanged for generations.

As technology changes and improves, the culture/s around it change (and hopefully improve, too).

As I mentioned above, I’ve never seen Star Wars Episode III: Revenge Of The Sith.

My reason for not seeing it? Star Wars Episode II: Attack Of The Clones.

Little Anakin Skywalker and his mom are slaves in The Phantom Menace.

He saves the Jedis and Princess Padame’s collective asses in that movie.

Okay, you’d think at the end of the movie that Padame would hand Qui-gon her ATM card and say, “Here, go back to Tatooine and bail the kid’s mom out. He did a solid for us, it’s the least we can do for him.”

No, they leave her there because there is no desire to change the underlying social order of their universe.

There can be no changes in Lucas’ bleak, barren moral universe.

There can be no help, no hope, no improvement.

When an edict is issue -- be it Jedi council or Emperor (or president of Lucasfilm) -- it is to be obeyed without question or pause.

Daring to say one can change their status -- change their destiny -- results in tragedy (and ironically, proof that is their destiny).

It’s dismaying enough that a large number of people enjoy cosplaying Star Wars villains, especially storm troopers, as that seems to indicate they’re missing the whole point of why the rebels were striving against the Empire in the first place.

Originally that could be written off as (at best) just enjoying the cool costumes and props or (at worst) finding an excuse for bad behavior (i.e., “I vuz only followink orders”).

But Lucas’ tacitly endorsing a sense of innate superiority pretty much destroys everything about The Force that the original Star Wars audience found enlightening and ennobling.

The Star Wars universe has become at its core a very ugly thing, and The Rise Of Skywalker doesn’t really clean it up.

SPOILERS ahead.

=3=

Seriously, SPOILERS follow.

Holy crap, The Rise Of Skywalker is a damn mess.

Nice eye candy, but a mess.

It pretty much undoes everything good in the previous two episodes.

I’m glad it’s the “official” end of the original saga because now I never need to see another Star Wars movie ever again.

(Oh, I’ll keep my DVD of the original Star Wars and if I find Solo in a bargain bin somewhere I might pick that up, but as far as the rest of Star Wars goes, I am D.O.N.E.)

The series stopped making sense long ago, so I’m really in no mood to analyze why nothing links up or really works.

It’s full of absurd, stupid ideas, such as space barbarians galloping across the deck of a star destroyed on their space horsies.

The whole back and forth between among Palpatine / Kylo / Rey goes on for two long. If hating somebody is bad because it sucks you over to the Dark Side, then why doesn’t somebody start building Terminators that can track down beings with midichlorians and kill them? (They’ve got the technology to detect midichlorians, that’s canon.)

It’s not anywhere near a good movie. It’s not as bad as George Lucas’ Star Wars Episodes I - III, but it’s clearly the worst of the last trilogy.

The scene where Rey gets off camera encouragement from all the dead Jedi? It seemed awfully familiar to me, as if the writers consciously or unconsciously remembered the John Wilkes Booth / Lee Harvey Oswald scene in Stephen Sondheim’s Assassins where all the presidential assassins and would-be assassins past and future encourage him to plug Kennedy.

Not what I want in a Star Wars movie.

I think we may be seeing the end of Star Wars. It’s been crammed down our throats for too long. I’m aware of The Mandalorian series and how insanely popular it is, but y’know, sooner or later every pop culture craze dies out.

Star Wars has nowhere to go. Star Trek is hemmed in, too, but nowhere nearly as bad as Star Wars.

We’re about to enter a generational shift in America, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a badly dated 1970s sci-fi concept fails to make the cut.

It ends on a frustrating note, taking much too long to come to a close, far too much self-congratulatory bullshit, and the deliberate planting of clues for a future set of sequels should the Mouse start jonesin’ for that sweet, sweet Star Wars franchise money fix.

It’s a really bad script, and dragging Carrie Fisher’s digitally reanimated corpse into it and then killing her off by suicide is a damned stupid / offensive idea.

Mark Hamill’s ghost walking out of the flames of Jedi hell (thank you for that analogy, David Brin)? Wow, who didn’t see that one marching down the avenue?

Harrison Ford coming back as a memory / hallucination to tell Kylo to do the right thing? Skrue dat noiz.

(Though I have to say Kylo Ren is the best thing about the movie and his character turn parallels both Luke’s and Vader’s in The Return Of The Jedi only his is much more believable and poignant so dammit, Disney, you could have done a much better job with this movie than you did.)

The plot and pacing is straight out of a video game. First do this, then do that, now ya gotta do another thing -- feh!

And unless I misheard the dialog, this whole film supposedly takes place over a span of sixteen hours!!!

They visit a half dozen worlds, crash and repair spaceships, go undercover, get captured and escape, fight duels to the deal -- all in sixteen hours?!?!?

Yeesh.

And I’ll say this, the last line is wrong wrong WRONG.

If the Star Wars saga has taught us anything, it’s that Force users are a threat to everything.

They should be eliminated for the good of the universe.

Rey shouldn’t have buried the Skywalker lightsabers.

She should have destroyed them -- and the one she made, and any others she found lying around.

And when she’s asked at the very end what her name is, the answer should have been: “Rey…just Rey.”

I know I put The Rise Of Skywalker in the not-so-good bin, but truth be told, that’s the nostalgia talking; it’s only a eyelash away from being bad.

The whole epic saga is a failure as far as I’m concerned. One and done is the way to go; the moment it started making money as a toy franchise it went south.

#sci-fi #Star Wars #The Rise Of Skywalker #Kylo Ren #The Force #movies

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diveronarpg · 5 years

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Congratulations, MANDY! You’ve been accepted for the role of GONERIL. Admin Rosey: How long have we been clamoring for our beloved Goneril? Far too long, I think. But the wait was worth it because Mandy, you delivered us to her with a little bloodied bow on top. You gave us a taste of Goneril, and here we are, begging for more. The plots you laid out for her future captured her well, and the para sample you provided gave an insight to the narration of her thought and I absolutely adored it. But, what really sold it to me, was the very end of the application: “... I don’t think Grace has ever stopped long enough to get bored. Maybe that’s for the best though; I’m not sure the world could withstand a bored Grace Daly.” And honestly, I’m not sure I can withstand the Grace Daly you will be bringing to our stage either. But I can’t wait to try! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Mandy

Age | 18

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | For the next 3 weeks or so, I can probably post about 3-4 times a week. After that I start university, so maybe 1-2 posts per week?

Timezone | BST

How did you find the rp? | I came across it a while ago (9/10 months?) so I can’t remember exactly how, but I figure I must’ve been looking for mob-related roleplays on tumblr.

Current/Past RP Accounts | This is actually my first-time roleplaying on tumblr so I don’t have any past accounts to show. I have been roleplaying for around ¾ years though, just on different forums. I can provide some samples of my writing if you want to make sure I’d fit in here.

IN CHARACTER

Character | Goneril aka Grace Daly! And I like her current faceclaim (Úrsula Corberó).

What drew you to this character? | What initially attracted me to Grace Daly was, in fact, another character; Calina Sokolova. Whilst writing out my application for Cleopatra herself, I noticed that I had a lot to say about wanting to explore her relationship with a character so primal and brutal as Grace Daly. And the more I wrote, the more I felt I understood Grace. At the same time, my infatuation for Calina’s character diminished, and I think that was because I realised that I didn’t actually understand her all that much. Then I read the application of the last successful writer for Calina, and I know that people can have different interpretations which are equally good, but it just made me realise that I had only scratched her surface with my own. I couldn’t do a character like Calina justice; at least, not yet. Not that I consider Grace to be any easier a character to write, or inferior in terms of depth, not at all; I just understand her much better. Turns out, Calina simply wasn’t my mystery to unravel, and so here it is, my application for Grace “Goneril” Daly.

What I love most about Grace Daly is that she remains true to her nature. The violence, the brutality, the chaos—it is her and she owns it. She does not run away, or attempt to hide her darkness, she doesn’t entertain any notions of herself as a ‘good guy’, nor does she fear or try to fight the darkness within her. Right and wrong are seen as abstract concepts, and even when she knows things are ‘wrong’, it makes no difference because she does not care. She would much rather be remembered as ‘great’ than ‘good’, anyway. What Olivander said about Voldemort comes to mind; “After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great.” Terrible but great, could there be a better analogy for Grace Daly? The rest of the world might see her as rotten, having lost her humanity, but one couldn’t be more primal or truer to their human nature than her. She takes what she wants, when she wants it, no matter the cost. She is a queen waiting to rule, a tragedy waiting to happen, a whirlwind to be respected, but most importantly, feared. She will carve herself a throne, whether that be from gold or your bones.

Despite being known as Goneril, she could actually be likened to Regan, in my opinion. It might seem like the sisters are an interchangeable evil duo in King Lear, but I actually think Regan is the more brutal of the two. After all, it is her who gouges out Gloucester’s eyes and thrusts him out to “smell his way to Dover”. Goneril is driven by ambition too, but I don’t see that love of violence in her characterisation. Catherine spills blood apathetically, whereas Grace thirsts for it, much like the Regan of King Lear.

Pride and the grandiose sense of self-worth, rather psychopathic traits, are also rather important cornerstones of her character. Because she has never been humiliated, never needed to ask for help, never been denied, she has this kind of smugness about her, an air of superiority. She wants to be remembered as such, a glorious vision of power, ambition, bloodlust and savagery—a legacy if there ever was one. Grace has always wanted more – more things, more money, more power, more blood – but perhaps what she craves most is recognition. Not the cheap recognition her parents gave her for simply being their daughter, no, she wants to be known as something great, something invincible, supreme, garnering as much recognition from the beggars and vagabonds lining the streets of Verona as the kings and queens in their palaces. She wants to be feared and worshipped like a God.

Along with the need to be known and remembered, comes the fear of being forgotten. People might sing Catherine praises for her angelic-ness, but they will not remember her name when she has passed like so many saints before her. At least, that’s what Grace thinks. The oldest Daly girl has long forgotten to fear death, but to become a ghost of bygone times like so many others have done in the past and most continue to do? That is literally a fate worse than death. She craves to be different, and to be revered for that difference. Death or glory—these are her options.

Whilst her impulsiveness might be seen as a weakness or a flaw, I think it makes her even more dangerous, because you can’t ever really know what she’ll do. She’s so unpredictable—one can never know whether they’ll get the cold, calculating Grace, or the wild, reckless Grace, who’s far more likely to give into her base instincts, until it’s too late. It’s unnerving how quickly she will switch between the two, but perhaps what is most alarming is when she is both at the same time. You ask how one can be cold and reckless, calculating and wild, at once? Oh, you should watch our raven-haired angel of death in action. She will beat you within an inch of your life and enjoy every second, but an inch she will leave, an inch to tell the world of your most foolish mistake: attempting to withstand the supernova that is Grace Daly.

I’ve never written such a raw, unremorseful character. In fact, I’ve never even come across such a female character in any sort of literature, let alone roleplaying. When other characters will tip-toe on the borders of insanity, Grace will crash in there with a battering ram without flinching. That is why it would be a delight and an honour to write Verona’s resident bloodthirsty empress, not that the world ever remembers one who wasn’t.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

1. Maybe some sort of face-off between the sisters? I don’t mean the three of them get into a ring and fight to the death, I just want a reunion of some sort, I suppose. I don’t imagine it will be at a café over brunch to discuss their childhoods, but perhaps they all need to meet up to discuss some mob business? In my mind, Grace joined the Montagues to give people a reason to remember her, not out of loyalty to anyone in the Montagues. So, if she sees an opportunity to rise the ranks, and she thinks that can be achieved by ‘offing’ one of their own captains to free up a space, I think she would definitely go to her sisters. They are Capulets, after all, and I doubt they would pass the opportunity to get rid of a high-ranking Montague. Regina, if not Catherine, anyway. At the same time, Grace doesn’t really consider her sisters to be her equals, so she might not care to do something mutually beneficial to all of them. Instead, I think she’s more likely to deceive both parties, because she’s arrogant and thinks her sisters are too naïve to understand her true intentions. Maybe that goes badly for Grace, because they really aren’t as clueless as she treats them? I don’t know, it obviously doesn’t have to pan out this way exactly, but I would really like to see the three of them having some sort of heated altercation, or just circumstance which invariably forces them to spend time together.

2. Calina vs Grace? Okay, so I know a lot of my plotting for Grace involves ‘facing off’ against other characters, but what can I say, Grace is a fighting sorta gal. In Calina’s bio, it says that “So long as [Grace’s] teeth are bared in another direction, she won’t have to make her shut her mouth,” aka Calina is happy to let sleeping demons lie, but what if they stopped lying? For whatever reason, they step in each other’s path and BAM! Chaos! Pandemonium!

As for how it happens, I was thinking something like this: Calina’s alias is Cleopatra, right, and, historically, Cleopatra was the first pharaoh to get the support of both the Greek and Egyptian subjects she ruled. In this case, the Greeks and the Egyptians are of course, the Capulets and the Montagues, respectively. Perhaps, at some later date, they are attempting to broker peace between the two mobs, and Calina, being Cleopatra, is at the forefront of this? Peace and harmony don’t work for Grace, of course, and so she tries to throw a wrench or two into their plans. Or maybe even a grenade.

3. I’d really like to explore some fiendish kind of plot that she and Ivan have. They are both quite chaotic and brutal characters, but I’d say Ivan does it for the love of chaos, whereas chaos is a side-benefit for Grace. Her true love is power; unlimited, absolute, power. So, say she hatches a plan to move up in the ranks, and figures that she might need some help from the Capulets for that. The help would be unintentional or accidental if her sisters were involved (see Plot 1), but I think she would be fairly upfront about it if she went to Ivan. Though Capulet by name, I’d say that he is first and foremost an anarchist, and Grace knows this. So, if she wants to stir the pot a bit, and wants to have some fun in the meantime, why ever not get in touch with the platonic Clyde to her platonic Bonnie? He’s never said no to a bit of mayhem. It could also be that they both plan on betraying each other, y’know, for a little more drama? Grace knows that his love of ruin and destruction is a little too dangerous to have around if her plans for dominion are ever to come to fruition, and Ivan knows that he cannot tear the world apart if there are people who wish to maintain the social order, so that one can actually hold dominion. In the end, no matter how similar their methods might be, their endgame couldn’t be more different.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes, but I would really like a fitting death for her; ‘’all or nothing”, essentially. Either she goes out in a blaze of glory, doing what she loves, or it somehow becomes that she loses everything, and is at the lowest of lows, and is then killed. I’d rather she didn’t die in some random mugging sort of thing, y’know? Also, pleeease, nothing like how Goneril and Regan go out in King Lear—sure poison can be involved, just not the whole other “jealous, superficial, evil sisters kill themselves over some man/throw themselves at his feet” trope. Grace thirsts for blood and power, not men.

IN DEPTH

I would genuinely do both, but I really want to send this in time for Sunday acceptances and I don’t have very long left. So, in-character para sample it is!!

***

Naivete? No, that couldn’t possibly be it. They had survived too long, accomplished too much, to be naïve. No, what truly plagued her family, whether that was their parents, or her sisters, it was blindness—or lack of vision, to be more precise. They had grown too accustomed to their life, too comfortable in the plush armchairs in front of their warm hearth, to envy the jewel-encrusted palaces that their kings and queens resided in. They were happy to settle for something mildly better than mediocrity, content to be second best, good but not that good. The Daly’s were well-off, there was no two ways about that, but they were hardly mice next to the mammoth that were the Capulets.

It was disgraceful to her. Shameless, even. How dare they be so complacent?

The babe turned girl turned woman, who had always wanted more and more and more, could not fathom the meaning of leading such an unremarkable existence. What could possibly be the meaning of life if you didn’t keep fighting for more, until there was no one left to fight, until you were the most powerful person in the room?

Throughout history and mythology, there were always trinities. Hydra, the three-headed serpent, Cerberus, the three-headed hound, and she had held out hope that herself, Regina, and Catherine, would themselves be a trinity to behold one day. Her mother and father had resigned themselves to ‘the simple life’, but children did not have to repeat their parents’ mistakes. They could be better, the Daly girls.

And yet, it wasn’t to be. Regina had come as uninspiring as they did, and Catherine, well, all saintly Catherine wanted to do was be nice. For a time, she tried convincing them, inspiring them as the eldest, but even back then Grace had had little patience for lost causes. And lost causes they were, the whole lot of them.

If she was to be anything more, it would be alone. Her family would not, could not, help her, and that meant looking for another family. Perhaps one with a little more backbone.

Extras:

I’d say that the Grace I’ve envisioned is quite similar to Villanelle from Killing Eve. However, whilst Villanelle kills because she is bored, I don’t think Grace has ever stopped long enough to get bored. Maybe that’s for the best though; I’m not sure the world could withstand a bored Grace Daly.

#accepted #accepted: goneril

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gotatext · 5 years

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claws my way out of the dirt like the goblin i am ..... hello thots, its nora, once again bringing you a revamped version of a muse i played yonks ago n some of u may have even written against... here is her pinterest.....

this is margaret greta, she’s a whole can of trauma spaghetti plastered over with a toothy grin and a lot of dad jokes. the only reason she’s in gifford really is bcos shes been put there as part of a witness protection program cos lots of police r monitoring livingstone so its deemed relatively safe.... haha... anyway she changes major all the time. she started off doing fine art but since then she’s done modules in architecture, film, bio-chemistry and is now dabbling in medicine.

CIS-FEMALE — ever hear people say GRETA O’DRISCOLL looks a lot like DIANA SILVERS? I think SHE is about 21, so it doesn’t really work. The MEDICINE major is a SOPHOMORE that is from DEADWOOD, SOUTH DAKOTA. They can be +CHARMING, but they can also be -EVASIVE. I think GEE might be SHEEP. They are living in YATES. ( nora. 23. gmt. she/her )

this bitch is the most restless creature u ever seen. before she came to livingstone, she’d lived in 8 different cities in 3 years.

was adopted as an infant. had two foster moms and two older sisters so always surrounded by women. lived in a boarding house, very much like the one in 20th century women, with lodgers coming in and out all the time, mostly artsy young women because her gay moms were both high school teachers trying to set up their own arts collective. one of her moms left when she was 4, n she doesn’t really remember her.

while living with entirely women made her super into catlin moran and the guilty feminist, as a teenager she often let boys walk all over her bc she just craved male attention jst bcos she’d never really experienced it. saw it as something aspirational, like sitting in the back of chad’s second-hand truck while he drove you to macdonalds and offered you and his five friends with identical haircuts weed was the height of being cool to greta, she wanted to be their dream girl, even if it meant compromising her beliefs

bubbly bitch but also massive snake. metaphorically and literally, always shedding her skin. loyal to few, ruled by none, out for herself, babey!! every place she goes, she becomes a new character, someone who’s a figment of her imagination, as if each city is repertory theatre and she’s a character actress, so as a result som ppl think she’s called rita, some ppl know her as margot, she just flicks through identities like nobodies business.

goes through phases of being intensely feminist and tweeting “men are trash i don’t need them” before flipping into being lonely and needy n wanting male attention again. tends to gravitate towards men who are just pieces of shit tbh like her friends are always like hun.... pick a nice boy..... but no.... she’ll go for the boxer with several arrest records for gbh or the small-town drug dealer just trying to hook her onto pills for a little extra cash, or the reformed sinner who thinks he’s being protective by reading all her texts and always knowing where she is..... n she always finds a way to spin it so that they Just Care About Her and aren’t a p.o.s

left school at 18 n didn’t go to uni, moved in w her boyfriend of the time instead, but soon got bored, n then went backpacking around the states making money in the casinos by being a shot girl (yeehaw) and trying to make it as a mysterious 1920s widow with a smoky voice, a dark secret n a heart of gold, looking for love in the big city. all she found was producers and acting agents who’d promise her stardom n actually just fuck her in a motel n then ignore her calls.

TW domestic violence, TW gun, her watershed moment came when she met luke in sioux falls while she was playing bass for a country n blues band. he was a few years older and had a car, and they kind of went from seeing each other to being that super intense couple who are just necking all the time.

they got engaged like 3 months after they met n rented a flat together, much to her family’s annoyance but she was 19 so there wasn’t much they could do. their relationship was super super intense though, often really heightened and when they fought it could become quite violent, but she’d pass it off as just him being really passionate.

one of their fights got really heated and greta threatened him with the gun he kept in the glove box of his vauxhall corsa, but the safety was off and she accidentally shot him. she pleaded self defence in the trial n cos of the amount of times she’d been hospitalised for various concussions n things like ‘fallling down the stairs’ the police were like yea... pretty watertight evidence that he was a bastard who [chicago voice] had it coming..... also this happened in 2017, he was mixed race and greta is white so naturally the police totally took her side. she’s now under witness protection, rehoused in livingstone as a sports-scholarship student, due to the amount of police involvement in the area, it would mean should one of luke’s family members try to track her down, she’d be relatively safe

massive sports fanatic. plays tennis. on the cheer team. was a track superstar in her high school. honestly just that sporty bitch, you’ll see her doing lines at a party at half four and then on your way to your 9am lecture you see her running across the park like a fresh fucking daisy who is this bitch

pretty easy to get along with (provided you don’t anger, provoke or question her too much) because she WANTS your character to be enthralled by her and will do whatever it takes to win them over. she wants everyone to love her

is That Girl who always knows where the parties are, and is always there, on the sofa, talking about institutionalised racism and trying to coerce you into a game of beer pong that she’ll definitely win. doesn’t really have one solid group of friends, just kind of on good terms with everyone and social butterflies about

has changed her major so many times. decision? who is she. currently studying medicine, but doesn’t rlly enjoy it. she’s very unmotivated and lazy and probably wouldn’t ahve bothered going to uni if she hadn’t been placed in one by a witness protection program. will probably change on to history or gender studies soon n just make up the extra credits by volunteering

massive feminist. low key quite scared of powerful men bcos of her ex. wants to start a female only lesbian commune bc she misses her childhood in a south dakota boarding house and has endless support for women. honestly annoyed that she is attracted to men, would so be 100% gay if it was a choice. cuffs her jeans and can’t drive. is That bisexual. skateboards. wears backwards caps. i hate her

plays bass guitar, has a teal green fender and it is her BABY. it’s covered in stickers about saving the planet and ending fracking and going vegan. she’s in an all-female punk band w agnes (n mayb jade i think) n they play gigs every now n then in grotty club basements full of druggy sweaty college kids

PERSONALITY: easy-going, sociable, observant, blunt, amiable, nihilistic, self-serving, laid back, independent, unmotivated, charming, lazy, impulsive, alluring. ESTP and a leo

LIKES: art, music, john wayne movies, black mirror, philosophy, cowboy chic culture, DC comics, arcade games, candyfloss, deep red lipstick, marijuana, dogs, karaoke, Kate Moss, late-night strolls, zip-lining, chemistry, suspenders, cigarettes, herbal tea, gallows humour, cold coffee, long showers, brown eyes, tchaikovsky, dr. seuss, boiler house DJ sets, magnolias, decorative lamps, worn-out furniture, twangy electric guitars.

DISLIKES: bananas, coffee, Woody Allen, mental mathematics, children, Trump, institutionalised misogyny, the imaginary future, french literature, Wes Anderson films, spoken word poetry, the general mentality of cheerleading squads (despite being on one)

aesthetics:

a bubble of pink gum on chapped lips, mom jeans, a beaten up pair of adidas, denim jackets, strawberry laces, knee-highs, chapped lips, peeling sticky plasters, split knuckles, bruises you try to cover with concealer, stick and poke tattoos, hot coffee, sleep caught in your eyes on a lazy afternoon, kissing girls, cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, leonine arch of your back and that stellar smile that says ‘you have no idea who you’re dealing with’, a rucksack permanently packed for the move, a streak of red across your lips, roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your mom wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, his name scrawled in rage across the pages of a diary, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

wanted plots: since greta literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships, and girls from the cheer team who she’s like, weirdly intimate with like the shower together but its not a Thing cos the other girls straight, and I want like, fellow medicine students who are like?? how is this bitch still passing?? i swear she goes out every night?? she works part time at a fast food restaurant, i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry. ppl she did a few modules with before changing course and somehow sort of remaining in touch with, like she did a few art modules, a bit of film, n some architecture before switching to medicine, though she’ll probs switch course again soon. ppl who she runs track with. someone she’s trying to make a zine with. here’s a list of plots on her old blog if u want any of them w her.

would love plots of any type, throw them all at me please, i cnt wait to interact w all of u. like this if u want me to message you about connections / plots! xo

full biography if u can be bothered

trigger warnings: drugs, domestic abuse, gun.

you never meant for it to happen. you’d heard the stories, of girls who let their man walk all over them, and thought to yourself “i’ll never be one of those girls…” the kind that eat low-fat yoghurt and drink slim fast to shred a few extra pounds because he said she was getting round in the tummy, or the ones who spent their evenings tied to a kitchen sink drinking wine while him and the boys played poker, wishing god, if only I could get out of here. not you, not you raised by strong women, four bright shining beacons. single mother with her hard-as-nails attitude and her stony glares, elder sisters (twins) one ginger, one blonde, one doctor, one lawyer, both determined to take a bullet to the brain and a hammer to the patriarchy before they let a man touch them without asking. you were always so inferior, so insecure and small, like a bird (like a sparrow) with blonde plaits down your back sucking tropicana whilst your busom buds sucked dick, their lips permanently ripe with stories of their sexual exploits, fake tan and glittered nails whilst you sat in the unbroken egg of virginity wondering what it was like to be loved. one day you found out.

lily milligan’s parents gone and a free house for the night, bottles of ouzo and tequila swiped from your mother’s liquor cabinet thinking she wouldn’t know (she always knew) your legs, hardened from pep squad, slut dropping on a kitchen table because the boys thought it would be fun to get the quiet girl drunk. you’d never had a sip before that night. band t-shirts, denim shorts and the split soles of rotten converse that you refuse to let go of, you still clutched with both hands to your youth, but in a tube top now (borrowed from alice carmichael who had a sister in college) and a short tennis skirt, your feet not in trainers but in thigh-high boots. uncomfy as hell but lily said you needed to look sexy. you didn’t know if you wanted to be sexy. you didn’t know what kind of girl you were, if you were even a girl at all. but robbie looked at you like he knew exactly who you were, like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and his lips had the pink cupid’s bow of a movie star, and his hair was dark locks, curling like a mane. his hands were soft, and suddenly on your waist, and after three more shots his lips were on yours and his name was the only sound in your head and on your lips as you lost it in lily’s college sister’s bedroom beneath the glare of a T-Pain poster. you bled for what seemed like hours, his hand still in yours, kissing on the sofa as truth tellers and dare devils continued to spin a bottle of unprecedented youth. you thought it was love. robbie was the one. he loved you, you knew it, how else could someone be so soft? but soon he grew bored, scrunched up your paper heart and set it alight. then came the tears, the hatred, the ‘fuck robbie, in fact, fuck all boys.’ and that you did.

you were known for being easy. any boy could be yours for a night, as long as he promised to love you for those few short breaths and pants before you cried yourself to sleep. you felt poisoned, but poisonous as well, as if by ensnaring these young boys you were gaining power over them, and not the other way around. soon it started to work. they’d want more, but you’d deny them it, sick of sucking off silly schoolboys, they’d call you a tease, a vixen. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help but want older men. you got the history teacher first time, him bending you over his desk to sneak a hand up your tennis skirt as the after-school clubs carried on next door, unawares. love didn’t exist, not for you. it was nothing but a game for pretty young girls to play, bubble gum in their canines and a hand tugging at the hem of their cheer skirt.

there was so much anger inside of your small body, ‘beware of boys and their hook-like words’. hockey helped. there was something formidable about the feeling of a stick like a weapon in your hands and the thwack it made against thighs in the heat of a scrum - “slipped, sorry!” - you’d utter with a snakeskin smile, millicent quinn knowing that you’d hit her on purpose because she shagged robbie at that party last week. she couldn’t prove it, cobbled acne on her forehead turning green with disgust. ben came into your life like a car crash. two years your senior, with a baseball jacket and shoulders like a god. he became your personal hero. on the pitch, he was lethal. together, you could bring anyone to their ruin. each day after last period he’d be waiting in his car. you’d leap into his arms like a girl-half starved, love me, love me, love me, your heated kisses the envy of every junior girl. he was yours for three blissful years, utterly yours, and you were his, his star-spangled girl, and he was your knight - you were both the same, playing games, always difficult to predict. it was a shock to all when he proposed, high-school sweethearts find love in south dakota.

the engagement was a bittersweet affair; three months – you barely out of your gingham print skirts and into a graduation gown, him, a surly quarterback towering above your sisters, cigarette at his lips and a scowl like a fart in a lift. they hated him. so did you. but you were eighteen and in love, and he fitted the cookie cutter mould. everyone wanted him, and you had him. you had him and you were happy, happy, happy, and he loved you. he said he’d give you the world, anything you wanted hand-picked and given to you. instead, he gave you a jack russell terrier and a flat you couldn’t swing a cat in, wallpaper peeling like the rotten bits inside of you, the bits that only he knew. and you got tireder and tireder of the sad excuse of a life he’d picked out for you, him out doing god knows what to pay the bills, and you dancing on tables to pave your way to stardom, and this was love, this was real, until the shine wore off and your fresh-faced, dimple-cheeked cheerleader facade faded and the ugliness started to reveal itself, the whining, the petulance, the sharp-tempered cruelty, the mind games, the need to always win, win, win. he was dull, he was boring, he was nothing like the boy the girls had said he was and no chiselled six pack could hide his lack of anything remotely interesting, your patience wearing thin until it snapped like rubber, a rucksack on your back, running shoes on your feet and the joint bank account emptied into your eighth grade birthday wallet.

you built your small fortunes working the casinos of sioux falls, a crimson dress and an attitude to match. bookish archie with his little dipper freckles was fun for a month, before he became just as dull and dreary as the rest. a three hour bus and you were in minneapolis, bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh meat ready for the pickings. a hostel here, a friendly co-worker’s sofa there as you made what you could by taking off your clothes and shaking your ass like you were back in pep squad, doing what you did best. you met your fair share of creeps, and soon it was back on the road to escape a wide-eyed stalker and a restless itch for more. milwaukee, chicago, you made the roads your own. log cabins and lodgings, and the occasional motel, a beaten up pick up truck purchased at a scrap merchants – you got a few miles out of it before it bit the dust, and when you finally set it alight after nights spent lounging across the driver’s seat, a parka tucked over you as a duvet, you were sad to see it go. you’re nomadic by fault, never attaching to place, people or things, creating a new personality in every place you go like a character actress; each town is a different repertory theatre, and you’re the star. a compulsive liar, you even fib about your own name, to some you’re ellen, nineteen, bookish, a law student who likes smoking and cosmos. to someone else you’re rita, you’re twenty five and look young for your age, like smoking, comics and fucking in public places.

in the bright lights of michigan, you found charlie, sweet charlie, too good for you, though you let him spoil you while he thought you were the small town girl of his dreams. next came abigail, who was fun until the jealously kicked in, and then luke, gorgeous luke, dangerous, exciting, who despite his temper, despite the fights, despite bruises down your spine and your teeth marks on his arms, loved you with the strength of a wild fire. there was destruction in your wishbones, a savageness from the field, from the pitch and now somehow in his arms, you were godly. he was cruel, he was careless, and he refused to fall at your feet like so many other boys had, which only you made you want him all the more. you were rage incarnate. you hated him so fiercely you thought you might kill him, so he played the only card you wouldn’t predict; proposed.

the house you shared was a backstreet flat in detroit, you making your name as a downtown singer while he footed the bill with pills. they had a drug for anything these days, to dull the senses, to pick them up, to drive you to insanity or pull you out of the madness hole. the two of you lived like criminals on the run (you never told him that you were, living out your days as the enigma he wanted you to be), you with your voice like caramel and fishnet legs. you were his and his alone until his hand was at your throat and the gun was in your hands screaming at him to stop, stop, stop, until a bullet stoppered his brain, crimson staining linoleum as you cast yourself out like lucifer. self defence was decreed the moment they saw your violet neck, black tears and headlight eyes and mind screaming red, red, red like the pom-poms you shook so willingly in school and the insides of his skull. you were gone, and “you” was born, renamed “greta”, boxed, shipped-out, and next-day delivered to livingstone where under witness protection you were a student, blank slate, fresh-faced in a place where no one knew your name, doing what you always did and starting again.

#livingintro #this is such a long boi....... waht the fuck.... u dont need to read the bio the summary notes are long enough fuking hell

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baynotbayley · 5 years

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( britt robertson + 24 + muse 44 ) isn’t that BAY DELTA over there? i heard SHE joined FACTION THREE after she got back to west ham. it’s funny, ‘cause she was only on the service trip because HER BROTHER THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUN TO GO TOGETHER. hopefully she’ll fit in there – she’s ADVENTUROUS, but also IMPULSIVE. oh, i’m sure she’ll be fine.

guess who’s back, back again -- rach is back, tell a friend!

hi y’all! i’m here to introduce my trash daughter -- bay is a beloved child of mine who has gone through the wringer but also will not hesitate to put others through the wringer. you can read bay’s bio (which may or may not be longer than peyton’s) here and you can also see the BONUS bio for her service dog lucky here. or if you don’t feel like reading those (let’s be real, who reads anymore???) there’s a play-by-play under the cut! i am still just as much a sucker for plotting, please come talk to me, i love you all so much.

CONTENT WARNING: Paternal Abandonment, Paternal Death (this intro goes into more detail than her bio, more specific warnings under the cut), Amputation Details

So if Peyton belongs to the “looks like and is a cinammon roll” squad, Bay Alexandra Delta most definitely belongs to the “looks like she can kill you and also probably can kill you” squad.

Her initials literally spell “BAD”, like, if that’s not a sign idk what is

This human bean is a firecracker in a 5′3″ frame; she’s got some rough skeletons in her closet, but she tries to go with the flow of things and just live her best life and I high-key admire her for that

Bay was born in San Clemente, California to Mackenzie (Mack) & Brady Delta

Mack worked for the city as an engineer, she was very book smart but very particular & required calm & order to thrive

Brady was the head of the city’s Marine Safety department, he was the kind of person who thrived in social situations, who may not have been as book smart as Mack but damn did he know a lot about the world

Bay was the fix-it baby who didn’t fix-it!!

Mack was out the door less than a year after Bay was born, leaving Brady to take care of their daughter himself

And like, take care of her he did. He made a promise to himself when Mack left that he would do everything he could do make sure that Mack’s absence wouldn’t prevent Bay from having a great childhood

And believe me when I say that Bay really did have a great childhood.

She and Brady lived in an apartment right on the beach; Bay spent the first six years of her life with sand between her toes and an ever-present smell of sea breeze

Bay inherited her mother’s intelligence but her father’s soul; she was a people person, first and foremost, and talked to everyone and anyone who would talk to her & thrived off of the human connection

She picked up surfing & skateboarding at a very young age, & spent a large amount of time outside -- I mean, when you live in San Clemente, why wouldn’t you??

Brady was very present in Bay’s early childhood, save one weekend a month where he’d drop Bay off with family friends

Bay never asked where he went but I bet y’all can connect those dots (if you need help connecting them, though, no judgement -- lemme know)

The last weekend trip he took, though, was right before Bay turned seven, and Brady came back with a little surprise

This surprise is better known as Sammy “Squirt” Delta, Bay’s half-sibling

Sammy was the missing piece Bay didn’t realize they needed; the family of two became three and for a long time, everything was really really good.

Bay and Sammy went to public school in San Clemente

Bay’s never been afraid to stand up for what’s right, nor is she afraid to use harsh words (or fast fists) to convince others of what’s right -- which meant there were definitely some calls home during school

Bay was an excellent student, though, which probably saved her from getting into as much trouble as she should’ve as a kid

Bay’s also always been an avid reader, and was also the kid who could be found in the morning with a flashlight in her hand and a book on her chest. Squinting at pages in the dark was not good to her eyesight, though, and she got her first pair of glasses at age nine. For a while, she didn’t mind them, but by the time she started high school she was practically begging her dad to buy her contacts, and its rare to find her glasses now (although, we’ll see how long that contacts supply lasts her)

BEGINNING OF POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD FOR PATERNAL DEATH

Less than a week before Bay’s eighteenth birthday, she & her dad were life guarding a summer kickoff party at a beachfront mansion when one of the glass panels on the side of the pool started to splinter

Both Bay & Brady tried to help party goers out of the pool as fast as possible, but a man who was considerably stronger than Bay pulled her in accidentally and she didn’t make it back out of the pool before the glass split and the current of the water starting pulling her towards it

Bay ended up with numerous shards of glass in the bottom half of her left leg

Brady successfully managed to grab his daughter before she felt over the roof’s edge but, by doing so, sealed his own fate

He passed away eight hours later.

Bay arrived at the hospital with hypothermia and a very damaged leg; although at first it seemed the doctors might be able save it, Bay received a transfemoral (i.e., above the knee) amputation due to an infection her body was unable to shake

She spent 20 days total in the hospital and a year afterwards in a combination of rehab and physical therapy

Bay was also named Sammy’s legal guardian, and she and Sammy were the sole beneficiaries in Brady’s will

Bay and Sammy sold the majority of what they inherited, including their beachfront apartment

Through Brady’s will, Bay and Sammy also learned that their father was originally from a small college town in Kansas, and that he was the owner of his family’s home there

When Bay was cleared by her physical therapist (shout-out to Tony!), she decided it was in their best interest to move away from California and head to West Ham

END OF POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT FOR PATERNAL DEATH

The Delta siblings have been in West Ham for almost five years now

(Edited because I realized I never put this in) Five years is a long time and even though Bay really does miss her dad, she’s gotten used to her new normal and (for the most part) doesn’t dwell on her past

Sammy goes to school at WHU though it’s unclear what he’s going to school for (if someone ever picks him up as a connection that can totally be decided by them)

Bay got a job at the library soon after they moved and has been rocking that since. She’s taken a few classes at WHU but is taking her time with school, she’s not really worried about finishing on any kind of schedule

Bay has a three-year-old golden retriever service dog named Lucky

Sammy gave Lucky to Bay as her 21st birthday present; he wasn’t originally going to be a service dog but when the Delta siblings noticed some of his innate habits and reactions to Bay it just all made sense

When he’s off-duty, he is such a lovable goofball and he loves to be pet and cuddled and to play

When he’s on, he helps Bay deal with both physical and emotional hardships

Lucky really means the world to Bay, as does Sammy

Bay really went on the service trip for Sammy, because he wanted them to go together

It’s interesting because, in terms of post-service trip status, Bay’s life really hasn’t changed all that much?? She still has both her boys, though I think when Factions come into play, she and Sammy might split -- my guess would be that Sammy would go with the Greek Life kids

But, yeah! Bay’s really just taking things as they come, and she’s excited to be here, and I’m excited she’s here.

EDIT I KNEW I WAS FORGETTING SOMETHING -- PLEASE DON’T FUCKING CALL HER BAYLEY IF YOU DO THAT SHE WILL MOST DEFINITELY FLIP HER SHIT KAYCOOLBYE <3

Wanted Connections include: SAMMY (apparently i like making muses with sibling connections??), crushes/ex-crushes/hookups/ex-hookups (Bay is bisexual; she will love all the human beans if you let her), friends or not-so-friends, people she knows through her brother, someone who showed her around town when she and Sammy got to west ham for the first time five years ago? Or maybe a book buddy -- like, someone who was a frequent flier at the library & who she could’ve recommended books to?? Also someone who loves Bay’s dog at first sight but doesn’t really like Bay?? But suffers through seeing Bay anyway because they’re a package deal lmao. Or vice versa, gimme someone who doesn’t love dogs but warms up to Lucky the more time they spend with Bay. Also also definitely partners in mischief, particularly someone who’s gonna want to check out the amusement park because that’s right up Bay’s fucking ally. This is...a long list to start with, but let me know if you’re interested in any of them, or anything else!

#(( down with who i am )) || about bay.#(( like you i'm original )) || bay's headcanons.#apogeeintro #//wow #//it has been #//a WHOLE NIGHT OF WRITING BAY'S STUFF

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gaylortruther · 5 years

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(many) tag games

saw someone else do this so i figured i’d go through all my tag games in one looong post instead of spamming you all with a bunch of separate posts!

i’m gonna tag everyone now and yall can choose which tag games you want to do or whether you want to do them all (or whether you want to do any)!!

thanks to everyone who tagged me in all of these! i LOVE being tagged in tag games and i am always up for more! <3

tagging THE SANCTION (including ppl that i haven’t gotten up on the page yet im sorry abfjffsdhsjbjsdf it will happen SOON): @newdivinities @wolvesofarcadia @maskedlady @victoiirres @sancta-silje @bumblebeesonpaper @wasting-ink-not-youth @horrorspell @ya-lady-tauriel @awritinglen @purpleshadows1989 @ivonoris @theforgottencoolkid @the-ichor-of-ruination @grotesqu-e @lucacangettathisass @tea-ndi @hazeywrites @lunar895 @thewordsinthesky-andstars

[LAST LINE TAG]

TAGGED BY @melwrotethat AND @hazeywrites

thank you both for the tags! these are the last few lines of the prologue-excerpt-thing i wrote for the page i’m working on for WHERE THE CELLAR MEETS THE SKY

Somehow, Collin hears them. Silently, she rolls up her sleeve, and Rowan feels the Collin Sutherland they knew is somewhere far, far away. The tattoos are black, geometric in design, two on each arm, and eerily similar to the ones Rowan has just discovered on their own left arm. They're sure if they were to roll up their right sleeve, they would find more.

"I should have told you a long time ago," Collin whispers. "I didn't know you were a part of it, but I should have guessed. I didn't want to put you in danger."

"I'm not- I don't- in danger of what?"

The waves crash onto the shore, and in the distance, a seagull cries, sending Collin into action. She grabs Rowan's hand and starts pulling, dragging them back behind the house.

"Come on. We don't have a lot of time, we have to get going. I can tell you everything on the way. I don't know why he brought me here instead of straight to the veil, damn it-,"

"Wait!," they say, wrenching their hand out of her grasp. "Just- stop! Where are we going?!"

Collin's eyes flash bright, despite the lack of sunlight. "Home."

yeah, a bit long, a bit unedited, but *shrugs*

[SPELL OUT UR URL USING SONG TITLES]

TAGGED BY @tea-ndi

thank you sage!!! <3

hard feelings/loveless | lorde

another one of those days | cavetown

let’s fall in love for the night | FINNEAS

ocean eyes | billie eilish

honey and milk | flower face

i know | king princess ft fiona apple

dreamz | sara king

iloveyou | BETWEEN FRIENDS

nobody’s home | gnash

greek god | conan gray

sycamore girl | rex orange county

and there you have a small sample of my music taste! add in literally every taylor swift song (dont judge me), some lo-fi tunes without ANY words whatsoever, and the occasional fall out boy or panic at the disco goddamn absolute banger, and you have my XANDERS JAMS playlist on spotify. ENJOY

[11/11/11 TAG]

TAGGED BY @awritinglen <333333333333333333333333

thank you for tagging me len!!! your questions were so fun!! i’m doing this for WHERE THE CELLAR MEETS THE SKY

Name all OCs in your WIP

OMFG okay,,, wait do you mean full names?? POV characters as of rn are Collin Aisling Sutherland, Rowan Tilley (doesn’t have a middle name) and Avery Bristol Charter. then the next most important one is Isaac Michael Rosewell, even though he’s the antagonist. then the side characters that are still very featured are Noah Rosalyn Pratten, Reese Iseul Radley, and Sage Emarosa Delgado. THEN we get into the very very side characters, Willa Robinson and her son August Robinson. then we have Avery’s parents, Alaric and the late Octavia Charter. and thennnnn we have Beldane Moreno, Avery’s uncle and Collin’s grandfather (undecided abt that last name but going w it for now). i promise it all makes sense. i promise anfnfsjnfdjsfd

Name at least one hobby your Main character love

i’ll give this one to Collin, she is a musician! Avery’s mother always taught her music before The Accident (dun dun dunnn) and after Collin was abandoned in the Nigh she threw herself into music. she plays guitar mostly, but she secretly loves piano the best out of every instrument she knows

3 sentences about your current WIP

OOF. im so bad at summaries why would you do this to meee abfhshjbsbshfjsbf. “A determined believer wants to return to a home that never wanted her. Almost 4000 miles away, an incisive, intellectual outcast of a dreamer muses over getting out of their hometown. And infinities away from them both, a teenage revolutionary disappears into thin air, on his way to bring back his past and fix his (and everyone’s) future.”

Is there a romance in your WIP and did you plan it from the beginning?

yes! there are three! they are definitely a main focus of the plot, but not THE main focus. Reese and Rowan were definitely planned from the beginning. Collin and Noah were, too, but they weren’t originally enemies to lovers, and they are now (hehehehehe). and Isaac and Avery were DEFINITELY not planned from the beginning. in fact, Avery was originally paired up with Sage, but it’s literally so much better this way and i’m so glad it’s been changed. Isaac and Avery has been planned since about when Isaac’s character was thought up, one year into planning WTCMTS.

What genre(s) is it?

a mix of dystopia and urban fantasy. and it’s YA, borderline NA because some of the characters are 19-20, but i still think YA is appropriate because of the style of writing.

What’s the aesthetic of two of your characters?

fun question! Collin’s aesthetic is very emo-punk, with a splash of yellow towards the end of the series. piercings, blue hair, rips on clothing, dirty converse, smudged eyeliner, safety pins. the yellow comes in as part of her character arc, as she learns to accept that her childhood memories are tainted and not actually perfect utopia. Rowan is way more minimalist (sometimes). they’re into the bookstagram type aesthetic, and mom jeans with sneakers, jean jackets, plants against a white wall, colorblocked windbreakers, rain against a car window.

When did you start your current WIP?

WTCMTS was started in august of 2017

How far along are you in the process (i.e 1st/2nd/3rd draft, worldbuilding)

still worldbuilding, unfortunately, for personal reasons

Who’s the hardest character for you to write?

OOOOOOF. sage or rowan?

What music genre best decribes your main character(s) and whats their favorite?

Collin - alternative (favorite band would be like twenty one pilots, p!atd)

Rowan - ichillwave (clario, rex orange county)

Avery - emo (fall out boy, all time low)

Isaac - indie alternative OR instrumental lofi (jaymes young, birdy)

Noah - electropop (lorde, halsey, charlie xcx)

Reese - folk rock (the head and the heart, of monsters and men)

Sage - indie pop (lana del ray, florence + the machine)

Are you working on more than one WIP?

yes! i have four currently but only two are important lol, ILLUNIUS and WHERE THE CELLAR MEETS THE SKY (this one). WIP PAGE

MY QUESTIONS

how did you come up with the title for your WIP?

is there anything you want to change about your WIP but you are hesitating on?

do you have a favorite character? a character that is your baby?

write a tinder bio for one of your characters.

how do you feel about epilogues? does your wip include an epilogue?

what changes does your MC go through over the course of the story?

what is the most significant insignificant thing that happens in your story? don’t explain why it is significant if it spoils things ;)

do you know what will happen after the ending of your wip, or would you rather not picture it?

how long does your wip span? is it a novel? a series? does it have prequels or spin-off wips?

what is a major internal conflict for your MC?

do you include flashbacks in your wip? do you like writing flashbacks?

[HOW TO KNOW YOU’RE IN A ______ NOVEL TAG]

TAGGED BY @writevevo AND @wolvesofarcadia

thank you both for this tag! it’s so much fun and both of your novels sound like novels that would be very interesting to be stuck in :D

inspired by this post

HOW TO KNOW YOU’RE IN A HALOHIDINGS NOVEL

you’re an older sibling and you have a younger sibling. you’re extremely bitter towards your younger sibling for stealing opportunities from you, damning you to a life you never truly wanted. your younger sibling adores you and just wants to please you. they never meant to do it.

you’re stuck in constant, wistful wanderlust, never feeling like you truly belong, never fitting in anywhere, not with friends, not with family, and when you finally find the place you’ve been looking for, you realize it’s nothing like you dreamed or remembered.

you’re not heterosexual. no one around you is. no one is cisgender either. where are they? no one knows.

you have a peculiar capability dancing under your skin. it trickles from your pores and muddles with your mind. maybe you asked for it, maybe it was predestined, maybe you never wanted anything to do with it. whatever the reason, it’s there, and you don’t know what’s you and what’s it. maybe you’re not meant to ask. maybe you’re meant to succumb.

your memories are as fickle as the rain, coming and going and breaking through the clouds, shattering the fog and disappearing with the sun. you can’t recall what you’re doing here, or where you’re meant to be instead. what’s your name?, they ask. you don’t know.

there are two worlds. one world is blissfully unaware of this, or at least, as unaware as any world of millions and millions of people can be. no secret can be kept forever, they tell you. you are desperately trying to keep the secret.

the one closest to you, despite your abhorrent denial of this fact, the one you would trust with your life, will betray you. because of their decision, their selfishness, you will either lose them, or lose yourself.

THOSE WERE SO FUN OMG. they all mostly apply to both of my major wips, which is probably bad. oh well LMAO

SORRY THAT WAS SOOOOOOOO LONG hope at least someone does one of these tag games lol <3

xander out

#taggedin

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yunasightx · 6 years

Text

Names and Puzzle Pieces( aka , give me the Mcmercy fam fluff!))

(Behold this monster that has literally been sitting on my flash drive for a over a year and a half. I have no excuse for this fic besides the fact that I’m a sucker for wholesome expecting family fluff— and that goes double for this pair. Literally.)

Disclaimer:

As I stated before, this fic has been sitting around for a while .. so I really did not go through it with an ultra fine tooth comb (( and is also the reason why there are some characters, like Moria, who are not mentioned even though they have a strong relation to members of the original Overwatch--- especially in regards to Mercy and Mccree’s past. They simply were not around at the time when I wrote the bulk of this. I added Brigitte in last minute though , because it was a bit easier to mention her....and i may also ship her with a certain rocket-jump gal ))I did try my best, but I really just wanted to get it over with. So, apologies for Iand grammar issues. I may go back to edit later if I see anything insanely obvious.

In the meantime, happy reading and enjoy! ))

Tornborjn,

I just looked over the schematics you sent me. So far, the upgrade looks promising – but I’m a little concerned about stress the additional weight and momentum might put on the joints in Fig 4. Reinhart is not as young as he use to be ( despite what he might boast about) , and while an extra booster might help the Crusader Suit have a little bit more of the “OOMPH” the two of you are looking for …. Osteoporosis is not just something that is exclusive to women. Which reminds me…. I believe you are overdue for your yearly physical as well, Bärchen <3.

Angela

Ps. I highlighted the issues I think need a second glance. Maybe we can get lunch next Tuesday to look them over? I have been craving grilled fish and sriracha something terrible lately.

Angela read over the email one last time, checking for the usual typos and general grammatical errors, before hitting the send button. The email blipped out of existence from her computer screen leaving only the default Overwatch logo quietly staring back at her.

The doctor leaned back in her chair with a content sigh, “Well, one thing down…. Several more to go.” She had spent the whole morning cleaning out her (what always appeared to be) constantly full inbox; replying to and sending out correspondences to anyone and everyone who had questions and concerns for the Head Doctor of the reinstated global peacekeeping organization. Angela supposed she could have been fielding most of them off to an intern, or even asked Athena for assistance, but she liked being proactive in things ---- and truth was… she needed SOMETHING to do for the next couple of months.

Angela glanced over to her Valkyrie Suit which stood like marble statue between the two pristine white and glass shelves behind her desk while her hand came up to rest on her still- rounding stomach. The lighting of the room gave the enameled white coating a soft iridescent glow and illuminated rest of the black, orange and gold details. The sight of it rising over the back of her chair, even with the wings powered off, as someone walked into her pristine office was something that she knew bordered on spiritual

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss the adrenaline, the rush, and energy of being on the field ,or being actively involved in something ; but while the she would always be incredibly proud of her first child ---- at the moment she now had other lives she had to care for first.

And she knew the others were in good hands; Lucio and Zenyatta were newer to the life style of being a Overwatch Field medic , but so far they had shown enough promise that most of Mercy’s fears had been eased. And dear darling Brigitte had taken the helm of that group in stride after dealing with patching up Reinhardt for years. They often came to her for advice, and she was very happy with how far all of them had come since joining Overwatch.

Angela actually had the sneaking suppression that donning the Valkyrie suit for so long was the reason why her pregnancy had been going so smoothly —for the most part— in the first place . The results weren’t completely definitive, but it seems wearing and handling experimental bio- nanotechnology over a long period of time had had some unforeseen side effects. One of which being what basically boiled down to slowing down the aging of Angela’s cells. It wasn’t much, just a under a decade in difference to her chronological age—-she would still age, she just wouldn’t have to worry about things like grey hair , wrinkles , mammograms, and arthritis as soon as everyone else.

Ana had joked the she should retire and just sell her product to a home-shopping network as the newest “anti-aging skin care line” --- then buy a nice little vacation home in Hawaii for her , McCree and the little ones ( with an extra guest house for their favorite “Nana”, of course).

But, Mercy knew that at nearly Thirty-Nine years of age she should have expected a myriad of complications with getting pregnant, at least naturally ---- especially with both her and McCree starting to push forty. So, when it had happened after their first try… it had come as a bit of shock. She and Jesse had talked about the possibility of children, the idea of growing their family just a little, but they had still had gone into the whole thing with a mindset of “if it happens, it happens”.

And when they discovered it they would be having twins….

Well, Mercy made a note to add gynecology and fertility research to her ever growing list. After she had to pick McCree off the floor that is.

But, aside from three and a half months of nightmarish morning sickness and the never ending whiplash of weird cravings, everything had been progressing surprisingly well.

Well… almost everything.

Angela’s thoughts broke off when she felt what was quickly becoming familiar fluttering of movement pushing against the palm of her hand. She laughed and lightly rubbed her fingers over the spot, “I guess nap time is over , hmm?” She hummed. She felt another little persistent nudge and sighed, “Right..... back to work!”

Angela braced her hands against the armrests and pushed away from her desk, before awkwardly hauling herself back to her feet; grunting as her center of gravity and new constantly-changing weight shifted back to her pelvis as her very round stomach curved out in front of her and her lower back arched in.

Angela knew she was surprising large, even with twins. She looked more like she was nearing the tail end of her third trimester with one child, rather than twenty weeks with two.

She had given up trying to button her lab coat and pants weeks ago, and forgot the last time she had been actually able to see her feet (were her toes still painted sky blue? Or was it lilac? Rustic orange ? The world will never know. ) Now, she just opted for breathable tunic dresses and a nice pair of stretchy leggings with her favorite pair of flats ——and when she was home, she all put lived in Jesse’s flannel shirts ( but, she had the feeling even they wouldn’t fit for much longer either at this rate..)

She thought about the closet of cute, but sensible new maternity wear Ana , Lena, Brigitte and Pharah had eagerly helped her shop for just a few weeks ago (with the former captain letting Mercy know she should be very thankful she didn’t have to be stuck with horrible fashion styles that were around when she was having Pharah… or the lack there of). She felt a bit guilty that she was growing out of them so quickly.

Then again….. technically the twins were farther along than twenty weeks. At least, from a gestational stand point.

That was other thing . The other unforeseen side effect of donning her Valkyrie suite for so long and so often. Besides slowing down her ownaging, somehow the twins were growing at a slightly accelerated rate. Not insanely or supernaturally fast, but every test her and Winston had run had proven they were consistently three weeks ahead of any normal development.

Mercy had gone back and doubled, even tripled checked her math, but it was hard to mistake the night that led to all of this. It was enough of an oddity that even though there had been no other complications, both of them agreed to err on the side of caution and treat her as a usual High-risk case and closely monitor her and the babies’ progress.

Angela huffed and braced one hand against her lower back as the other started rubbing circles along her upper right side, hoping to dislodge whoever decided to jam themselves between her spleen and ribcage. She waddled over to her stainless steel work station by the large glass wall that ran the length of the room and looked out into the hallway between her and the panoramic windows that viewed the deep shimmering blue waters of the Alboran Sea. She picked up the tablet she had left there and pulled up her own medical file, along with half- a- screen’s worth of notifications of upcoming appointments and tests. The lab results from her latest round of blood tests had just come in; most of her levels were fine, except her iron levels which were a tad little low (Angela rolled her eyes at that. Of course, Jesse’s spawn would be as obsessed with red meat as their father.)

She quickly scrolled through the rest of the results, then sent them and the reminded of her next ultrasound away with a flick of her fingers before pulling up several medical files and the list of Overwatch agents who she still had to hound down for the yearly physical. Thankfully, a majority of the list was already highlighted in bright blue, but there were still a handful of names in red ---and most of those she didn’t even need to look at to know who was dragging their feet to the medical wing.

Let’s see…..Genji came in for his exam Monday, so he’s done. Hanzo was on time, as always. Lena is tomorrow—I’ll need to remind Winston about that. Mercy tapped Tracer’s name and informed Athena to let her fellow scientist know about his needed assistance.

“Shall I also remind Winston that it is time for his exam as well, Dr. Ziegler?” The AI suggested helpfully.

Mercy laughed, “No, I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll just recruit Lena to help me hold him down, you know how he can be.”

The AI let out a slightly computerized sigh, “Unfortunately, all too well I’m afraid.”

I will probably have to drag Torbjorn here myself after lunch next week …And I will probably have to ask Ana , Pharah, and Brigette to help with Reinhart, The doctor sighed as she turned back to her list, her fingers briefly hovering over the names that were blocked out in black---- the white lettering spelling out the identities as sharp and finite as a row of marble headstones on a dark lawn. The files had been pulled over with the rest when Athena had backed up the old medical records from the original Overwatch.

Gerard Lacroix --- Deceased

Jack Morrison --- Deceased

Gabriel Reyes --- Deceased

Ana’s name had also recently been shrouded in the mournful color, but she had given her blessing to correct the outdated file. Her active status was now in the same bright cobalt blue as her daughter’s name near the top --- although, she had objected to also having her “Captain” title receiving the same treatment.

“I’m retired now, malak. These old bones aren’t fit to keep babysitting you brats all the time. Just leave me in the back with the rest of the old timers, and we’ll bail you kids out when you’ve finished having your fun.”

“76” on the other hand refused to go by any other name---- no matter how hard Angela or the others tried to convince him to reconsider, the old solider stubbornly refused to budge.

“The commander of Overwatch died at the Swiss base. If you want him, you can find him six feet under his tombstone in Arlington.”

As for the last two names….. well… despite their best advancements and research even science couldn’t truly bring back the dead.

And even then……….. Angela was not sure she would ever cross that line. She had toed it with Genji, even the very reasoning behind her own nanotechnology research flirted with that perilous edge …

But sometimes, the line between Man and God was drawn for a reason, and the price that asked was just too much to handle. You could make life, mend it, repair it if need be ----but you could not return light to a candle that no longer had a wick to burn.

Enough of that, Ziegler. Angela shook her head to clear her thoughts, and leave the past where it was supposed to be. She scrolled through the rest of the names until she came to one very familiar name that she wasn’t surprised was still in red.

“What am I going to do with him?” Angela sighed and tapped opened the file, so focused that she missed the metallic jingle of spurs and confident clomp cowboy boots sneaking up behind her.

“Boo.”

Angela jumped in surprise when two arms grabbed her from behind and that mischievous, honey-whiskey -warm voice smirked against the back of her ear. She shot a pointed look over her shoulder ( which lacked any real bite), but Jesse just greeted her with one of his charming smiles---- completely unapologetic as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the back of her shoulder as both of his hands drifted down to the sides of her stomach.

“How’re y’all doin’?”

Angela could feel his warm chuckle and smile against her skin when he felt one of the twins jab at the underside of his human palm, “Well, that one definitely takes after me. Not even out yet, and already tryin’ to start a fight.”

Angela rolled her eyes, but there was smile on her face as she turned her head and kissed his cheek. He had trimmed his beard a little bit from the wild bush he had during his vigilante days, and his hair was back to the style he had it during the prime of his days in Blackwatch . It was still unkempt and disheveled as ever, but Angela has always liked that length on him. And Jesse said he finally got sick having it stick to the back of his neck in the blistering heat and finding beard hairs in his whiskey.

“Did you just get back?” She could still smell the salt, sea spray, and limestone of Ilios on him, along with a bit of gunpowder and a little bit of nicotine. Jesse had reluctantly agreed to cut back on the smoking when they decided to try to start a family (only because she had threatened that he would have to bunk with Genji , Hanzo and Zenyatta for the next eighteen years if he so much as thought about lighting up around her or the children) , but when he was out on assignment he still smoked at a cigar or two. Mercy was at least grateful he wasn’t smoking a pack a day anymore.

He had cut back on drinking too. Genji had mostly been the one to thank for that----he and Zenyatta had been helping Jesse slowly deal with his demons over the last year and a half. For the youngest Shamada, it was the least he could do for his former Blackwatch brother and very dear friend, and the two now had a bond that went deeper than just former coworkers.

It was nice to see both of them smile so easily again.

Eventually, the two of them ganged up on her; and while she originally dug in her heels and refused to acknowledge the parts of her that she shoved and locked away in deep into the shadows, far away from anyone else (her failures, her regrets , guilt and blame and what ifs) ……it didn’t take a neuro scientist to know that something besides her work or adjustments to her suit was keeping her awake all night. And her heart was so much lighter for it.

“Just docked”,Jesse pressed another kiss against her shoulder before lifting his head a bit and resting his chin there with a deep content hum, “Figured I’d hide out here for a bit before having to face the paperwork.” He wrapped his arms under her stomach to pull her into his warmth, “Don’t think I’ll be able to keep doing this for much longer. What are ya feedin’ these kids ,Angie?”

Angela smacked his arm ,”Burgers and sriracha. And I wonder who I can thank for that.”

“Hey, don’t pick on me. I remember those paper bags you tried hiding under your desk,’ Miss McDonalds’.”

“It was Wendy’s.” Angela said automatically, not even phased about Jesse calling her out on her old guilty pleasure.

“Yeaaaaaaaahh,” Jesse drawled out with a lazy smirk that she could feel curl against her neck , “ but you’re gonna be stuck with a bunch ol McCrees so I figured it was more fitting.”

“Who said they were going to be “McCrees”?”

Angela had to bite down on her tongue from laughing as the charming “I’m winning this round” smirk slipped right off the gunslinger’s face.

“That ain’t very nice, Angel. Don’t be mean.”

“I am not being mean,” Angela had to try very to keep her voice clinical and matter-of-fact , instead of breaking out into the giggles that tickled in her throat. She knew it wasn’t nice to tease him like this, but it was cute when he pouted. “Technically, we are not married so—“

“And you told me you didn’t want that right now,” Jesse pulled away, and Angela knew instantly that she went too far. Frustration mixed with the jet lag and three sleepless nights of clearing out stubborn Talon agents from Greek ruins that lined the cowboy’s shoulders, giving him a wounded look that was worse than any bullet to her heart.

She knew without asking what his plan had been the moment he stepped on to the helipad---- a nice cold drink, kick off those dumb boots, and to spend the rest of a quite afternoon with the woman and mother of his children who had basically stolen his heart almost twenty-two years ago.

“ I offered it to you, but you said it wasn’t necessary. That is just a dumb piece of pa----“

Angela swallowed the rest of his argument by reaching out and pulling his head down to kiss him sweetly, putting a cooling balm on his temper. He seemed to have gotten the message because his shoulders instantly relaxed under her hands as his went to her widened hips and he shook his head with a gravely sigh, “I really don’t like how easily you can get under my skin like that sometimes, woman.”

She shook her head and gave him another kiss before pulling back and reaching up to apologetically smooth back his hair, pushing back a laugh when he tried to puller closer but her stomach got in the way, “ No, that was a terrible attempt of a joke. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Jesse had always been the more emotional one between them; the sentimental, passionate, and sweet parts of their relationship --- a simmering slow southern day outside of Sante Fe. Even after all these years, she still had trouble accepting that when Jesse McCree loved you he did it absolutely, openly, and without holding anything back----it was all or nothing for him.

When she thought back on it, Angela realized she never stood a chance.

For Jesse, a ring and wedding was more than just a tradition. It wasn’t a claim on her, or a way “to keep her an honorable woman” and their children from being born under questionable circumstances or the hundreds of other reasons people have married for over the thousands and thousands of years of human history.

It was a promise. One of the most important ones he could ever give, besides his oath to Reyes and Amari when they offered him a rank in Overwatch ----a chance to do something worthwhile and good.

Angela just didn’t know if she was worthy of that promise just yet.

She still had moments where she worried if she could do this. If they could really could do this. That whisp of doubt that had spread and thrived in the shadow of the ruins and rubble of the old Overwatch. In the shadow of her every regret and helplessness and weakness when everything she held dear crumbled right through her fingers. The one thing she could never heal and fix.

Those names flickered in her mind again.

....The names of those she failed to support.

But, she was more than willing to try.

As silly, confounding, confusing, reckless, and dramatic as her cowboy was ----she never really thought the idea of spending the rest of her life question her sanity around him sounded bad. Even back before the old Swiss base had been nothing but a pile of bitter-sweet memories, secrets, and rubble. Before they had answered Winston’s recall……and then decided to try to pick up the pieces each of them had been carefully tucking away during the years in between.

They weren’t puzzle pieces that fit together, but------

“ I think McCree is a lovely name,” Angela hummed as she pressed her lips to his cheek, just along the curve of the dark circles under his right eye, “ I also think you should have gotten more sleep. No offense, Jesse, but you look dead on your feet. And I am the doctor who is pregnant with twins.”

The cowboy gave a resigned sigh and sank down into a nearby chair, pulling her with him and across his lap since his arms had tried to find their way around her waist again. She placed her tablet down on the counter and shifted to make herself more comfortable, placing her hands over his as they followed the faint movements of the twins hands, knees, elbows, and etc pressing against her sides. “Just give this old cowboy a few minutes, Ange. I missed you somethin’ fierce out there,” He muttered against her skin as he rested his forehead against her shoulder again.

“You really should be taking better care of yourself.”

The gunslinger gave a soft chuckle at the old scolding that had lost its intentional bite years ago, “Acknowledged”.

Angela knew Jesse had a terrible time sleeping when he was away on assignment these days; which was more than unusual because she couldn’t think of a place at the Swiss base where someone had not seen him napping with his hat over his face and his boots probed up on a random surface. It would not have be long before said hat was slapped off, and he was dragged off by his ear for laps by a very grumbly Gabriel Reyes to burn off all that extra energy he had obviously been storing up.

“And just what are you smiling about?”

Mercy came out of the past, and shook her head at Jesse who was watching her with an amused smile before she settled against his him with her head on his shoulder, “ Nothing, just some silly memories. I can prescribe you some minor sleep aids if you think that would help.”

The main reason for Jesse restlessness out on the field was because when his mind didn’t have to be focused on a gunfight, it was right back here with her and the twins. It wasn’t so bad in the beginning, but as her pregnancy progressed the little fear of something happening when he might be several time zones away kept knawing itself a nice little home at the back of his mind---- like a mouse chewing its way through a baseboard.

Nightly phone calls and face -time sessions helped reassure him that Talon had not attacked the base, Hana had not accidentally shut down the entire power grid by rigging up a super computer for gaming, and Winston did not turn her or the children into a tubs of peanut butter ( “………have you been drinking with Winhelm and Torbjorn again?” “……No, but I did have some kind of weird Japanese fish dish Genji made.” )

Even then ,Hanzo had taken up Mercy’s position of McCree’s common sense out on the field --- taking away the gunslinger’s phone so the bright LED screen didn’t give away their position when he kept checking in every five minutes as bullets whizzed by their heads.

Jesse gave a tired sigh as he raised his head and rest his chin on the crown of her head as he drew in closer, “I’ll be fine. I just need you and our bed , and maybe a hot toddy to dull the edge. I’m home now, that’s all that matters.”

Home. After how many years that word did hurt to think about anymore.

The two of them stayed like that for a while. Forgetting about emails and exams and desks full of paperwork, and just trying to enjoy this moment of absolute suspended moment of peace like a sip of Angela’s homemade hot chocolate or Jesses favorite aged whiskey.

If she closed her eyes she could almost smell the air of the Swiss alpines again, feel concrete lightly bite the backs of her thighs and the warm weight of a young gunslinger’s arm and serape around her shoulders as her knees dangled over the side of roof while she and Jesse watched the sun rise over the base. Watching as the light and sky started out deep and rich and slowly turned golden, blinding and bright.

Almost….. if it weren’t the constant movement jostling her insides.

“They don’t like keeping still, do they?”, Jesse grinned, his hands were tracking them across her stomach again, eagerly moving from her sides and resting just below her navel now. He looked down at her, eyes lined with jet lagged and some residual signs of his drinking and smoking lifestyle--- but still the same soft and lively molten brown she first seen at seventeen.

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Angela tilted her head up and teasingly nipped the tip of his nose.

“ Hmmm….. How long are you goin’ to be cooped up in here? I was thinking you, me, some nice seared steak and pasta, and ---“

“If you even think about mentioning another one of your western movies again, Jesse, I am just going stay here and sleep in one of the med bay beds tonight.”

“…….Well, now who’s jumping the gun? I was goin’ to suggest that one old timey pirate movie Ana use to play all the time during break nights.”

“…….I’m sure you were, cowboy.”

Jesse held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. You get to pick the movie tonight. Just don’t make it one of those boring educational flicks again. I’d like to be able stay awake with you tonight.”

“You liked the last few I’ve selected,” Angela pointed out, rubbing at her side to calm down whichever twin was unhappy bout suddenly being ignored.

“Yeah, well one of those was about those murders in Victorian London. Of course that’s going to keep my interest. But seriously Angie, as much as I want to know about what’s going on with you and the kids, “ The Gestational Process and Bonding of the Human Species ; From Conception to Birth And Beyond” isn’t exactly what I would call a “date night movie”.”

“……That is a fair point,” Angela relented, “ I just thought you would like it since you have pretty much checked out every single book we have about pregnancy in the library, and have hounded Ana,Torbjorn, Winston and I with questions. You even had Hanzo buy them for you in town.”

She watched as her cowboy turned a nice shade of pink under his beard, “ ….You weren’t supposed to know about that.”

“Jesse….” Angela chucked endearingly as she brushed his hair out of his eyes, “ Libeling, it’s been kind of hard not to. But, it is sweet ----- a bit annoying sometimes, but it’s been a pleasant surprise.”

Jesse looked down at his hands, which had gone back to her middle, gently circling his thumb over the back of her hands. His voice was soft, almost unsure, like he was slowly trying to figure out an new language and did not want to mince up the words “ …..I’m just a fish out of water with all of this. I never thought I would ever have a shot at something like this. That it wasn’t in the cards for me with the shit show our lives became after everything. But, God, did I want …… I don’t deserve an inch of you ,Ange. I sure didn’t back then and I’m not sure I do----“

Angela kissed him before the raw emotion leaking into his voice broke both of them in two. It was safe to say this was uncharted territory for both of them; two orphans who only had faded fragments of their own parents and a mismatch patchwork quilt they called family that had been made, ripped and repaired over the years as a reference.

There were a thousand things she wanted to tell him right then, but she would save that for when they were not surrounded by the cold, sterile, and professional environment of the med bay and her office. She wanted to be wrapped up in one of his flannel shirts and his arms first.

“I do have something for you,” She reached for her tablet and pulled up the file she had been saving for when he got back.

Jesse groaned the second end moved her arm, “ Angel…look, I know I’m due for that blasted checkup, but do you really—“

“You can relax, it’s not your physical. ..Yet. I will be getting you for that later,” Angela handed him the tablet and watched as one of his eye brows raised at the sight of her name and date of birth at the top of the page. She offered him a sheepish smile, “ I know you wanted to be there, but I’m afraid Winston got the dates mixed up. No one else knows about it yet…..but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you when you got back.”

She could barely hide her excitement as his eyes flitted down past all the medical information and jargon the he did not understand, and landed on the one part of the report that was impossible to mistake. She had to bite down on the corner of her lip to keep from beaming at him when his brown eyes went wide and looked between her, the tablet and back again. It was one of the few time she had seen the bombastic cowboy struck speechless, “ …Both?”

Angela nodded, finally letting herself smile,“ Both. One of each. I guess that means we’re done after this.”

But,Jesse seemed to have missed her joke as he quickly set the tablet back down and demanded to know which twin was where. Angela laughed as she guided the one hand to where their son was trying to cozy up to her ribs again, and the other to where their daughter has kicked his hand earlier. “ They do move , but I think that’s where they are for the most part, “ Angela titled her head as she took in the suddenly serious look crossing on Jesse’s face that he only got when he was trying to whip a strategy during a mission , “Is something the matter, Libeling?”

“….. Figuring out how much I’m gonna have to stock up on ammo for when they get older. Maybe finally talk Torb into installing that finger gu-”

“Jesse Leon McCree!” Angela’s glare cut through his thought faster than one of her laser- guided scalpels, “For the last time, I am not installing finger guns into your prosthetic!”

“I didn’t say you, now did I?”

“ Torbjorn won’t do it either. I already warned him I would revoke his honorary grandfather card if I ever caught him with schematics.”

“ Awwwww, come on! That ain’t fair, Angel!” Jesse whined. “ How else am I supposed to scare idots away from little Annie when she gets older?”

“Are you thrity-nine or nine…? And I am sure you will come up with something. Also, we are not naming out children after wild- west outlaws.”

“…Dam.. I was sittin’ on that one for a while,” Jesse looked at her again, “ What about-“

“No.”

Jesse jutted out his lower lip and looked at her with those big puppy gold-brown eyes that had been bane of her existence for the last twenty- something years. ….But, she would be lying to herself if said she wasn’t at least a little bit happy that genetics promised that there was a very good chance at their children would have his eyes as well.

“Fineeeeeeeee,” Jesse sighed when he realized he wasn’t going to win their little stalemate, although there is more than a hint of a whine to it, “What about “Fenrir” for the boy then? That’s something you’ve always liked.”

“Oh mein got!” Angela rolled her eyes, “Out of all the Norse myths I have told you, of course that’s the one you remember.”

“What? We could call him “Fen”,” Jesse pointed out innocently.

“You do remember that Loki is the one who gave birth to him, don’t you?”, Angela pointed out with a sigh, “ Only you would want to name your son after the eater of the world and killer of Odin? How about “Tyr”?” She tapped her finger nail against the scared- up skull engraved into the metal plating of his bionic arm. “The god of Justice. That seems a bit more fitting. “

Jesse watched her hand with a little smirk as he leaned his head against her shoulder again. They might have been playfully arguing about names, but she had never seen him look so content. The look in his expression said it all… ….he held his entire world in his arms. “Eh, it’s not as cool. Any kid of ours is going to be hell –in- a- hand basket and an angel all-in-one, they need a name goes with it.”

“I think it’s just in your nature to -- how do you Americans say it----“ Go Big or Go Home”?” Angela laughed as Jesse gently, but playfully pulled her closer against his chest, his hands resting on her hip as his lips grinned against her forehead and his beard tickling between her eyes

“Yep ,sounds like me. I’ve always dreamed big---- how else could I have gotten as lucky to end up with someone like you? You don’t get chosen by an angel just by waiting around and twiddling your thumbs.”

Angela rolled her eyes as she shifted in the cowboy’s lap as their daughter let her know she didn’t like being squished between them by trying to kick elbow her pancreas. Jesse’s hands instantly went to the spot and circled his fingers to apologize.

They were going to be fine.

“Well…..I do have one name in mind… ,”Angela hesitated. She wasn’t quite sure how Jesse would react to her suggestion. She still didn’t know how she completely felt about it.

It had started as a little idea that had just popped up in the back of her mind the moment the blood tests had confirmed everything, like one of the single little cells their children had started out as. At first, she just shook it off as an impossible notion, just the increasing hormones her body being annoying ; but like Jesse, it just hunkered down and refused to budged until she begrudgingly paid attention to it.

It was name that had weight to it, memories and heartbreak. But, she knew it was a name that meant a lot to Jesse… and even herself and many others in their little rag tag family. And the more she had thought about it, each week the name just sounded a little more right. Her mind went back to the list of names of those she had failed to save.

You could not return life to can candle that no longer had a wick , but the scent of the wax would always linger.

“Gabriel.”

She carefully watched his face as her stomach squirmed in a way that had nothing to do with her tumbling twins or morning sickness. It only took a few moments, but it felt life time as she watched the confusion on his face melt into surprise then something so soft and speechless that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to smile or cry herself.

For now she would blame it on the hormones.

“I like it, Darlin’,” His voice was soft, like a warm camp-fire on a cool night as he reached up and tucked her side swept bang behind her ear. “ … Thank you.”

She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand as his callused and tanned finger s trailed over her cheek, still the same as they had always been despite all the years. They still felt like home.

“There is nothing to thank me for, Liebling. “

“…. I still want Fen as a first name though.”

Angela gave a heavy sigh, Andddddddd there went the moment,“ Do not make me kick you out of my office .“

Jesse just gave her another smug and charming smirk that made his right eye twinkle, “Gotta come up with a better bluff than that, Sugarbee. I’m your favorite pillow.”

“Well, since you are here ,Darlin..” She drawled a little too innocently , “ I do have a long list of overdue shots with your name on it.”

The cowboy blanched and Angela just gave him his smirk right back before breaking down into a smile and leaning forward to kiss him as he huffed against her mouth and pulled her as close as her stomach would allow. “ Woman, I swear there is devil in those angel eyes sometimes.”

No, they were not puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together --- there were too many broken edges that had been worn and dented over the years. They were more like pieces of a shattered glass that had been put together into a mosaic. Something that was a little old and new at the same time , fractured and whole… and made something wonderful and beautiful when the light shone through.

#mcmercy #fanfiction #Overwatch #look mah i write too!#jesse mccree #overwatch mercy #mccree #angela ziegler #family fluff #oc kids

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cianaf · 6 years

Text

Airport Nonsense

Sat in this chair. It’s the same chair I was sat in 15 months ago in the departures lounge of JFK. Back then it felt great. I had just finished 10 days in New York, one of those days I had spent in Bristol where I had six meetings in three hours that laid out the plan for my career at ESPN. Starting with the podcast and radio and working my way up into a bigger role.

Everything from that week was great.

This week wasn’t bad either. It was my mother’s birthday, a milestone, and she hadn’t ever been to NYC so we came here for a while. There was a dinner with fancy plates and small portions. She’s gone on to do some travelling, the rest of the family is already gone home and I timed my departure to fit with the NFL Game Week, more out of habit than necessity these days.

(Sidenote: Don’t ever stay in Midtown in NYC. If you do, stay as far away as possible from Times Square.)

I can’t recall the last time I wrote one of these. I’ve generally done one every six months over the last few years. I think the last one was 12 months after my surgeries, not sure though. Since then I’ve learned that Teddy Bridgewater’s surgeries lasted five hours total and he had two sittings. Teddy’s knee injury was supposedly the most devastating since Shaun Livingston’s. That put mine in perspective. One of my sittings lasted 14 hours and had four procedures. If Bridgewater’s was the worst since Livingston, do I have to go back to the Dark Ages? Sawing people open with a jagged blade while they were still awake.

My memory isn’t great at the best of times and the lack of structure over the past year has meant it’s hard to piece together the timeline of when I did what. I’ve travelled a lot this year too.

That brings me to the point of this I guess.

Quite a few of you noticed my twitter bio. Some of you freaked out, some of you wished me well and some of you didn’t really understand. It’s fairly simple. I haven’t worked properly since December 2017. I’ve been living off my life savings since then. (One of the silver linings of having to live at home and not being able to leave your house much is that you save up a lot of money.)

There were conversations about work in August but those were fairly quickly shut down. I have enough money to survive until February without needing to get a ‘real person’ job. In February I’ll have to get a ‘real person’ job and football will be on the backburner for the foreseeable future (probably permanently).

I get a lot of encouragement and positive messages from you guys and I appreciate the sentiment but I think you need to understand this isn’t something I have any control over anymore. It used to be about me proving my work but I don’t need to prove my work anymore and even if I do great work it’s not going to change anything. This also isn’t about me having issues with colleagues or anything like that, as far as I know I had solid working relationships with the people I did shows with and I’ve also addressed/apologized to the people I needed to address and apologize to from last year’s shit. None of them have specifically told me they have issues with me but that might be something they save for HR/bosses/other people.

I can’t and don’t want to speak for other people.

So because it’s not about me working harder or me working on specific people, there’s nothing really for me to do. What’s happening at this point is I’m being defined by a mistake. Which might be perfectly fair. I’m not the one to determine that. I can’t be the one to change that perception no matter how hard I try at it. Like, you can’t sell yourself as a good person, why would anyone trust someone who does that? You need other people to do that. And I live on the other side of an ocean so nobody in this industry knows me well enough to vouch for me like that.

What I don’t want to do is wind up being resentful and bitter. And I’ve felt that coming into my thought process recently. It’s important for me to explain that.

I’m not resentful at a particular person or at ESPN. I owned all my shit and was the first one to suggest the punishment I ultimately got for it. Although at the time I also didn’t really think it would be a career-ending thing (fwiw: literally everyone who knows the specific details of this and who has talked to me says the same thing and most think I didn’t deserve to lose my job in the first place but they are all peers or former colleagues not bosses who actually make the decisions at these companies).

No, where this resentment is growing from is the fact that this wasn’t something I controlled. I still don’t even remember any of it to this day. I doubt I would want to at this stage. You have that PTSD and it manifests itself in depression, that depression is cured with an alcohol dependence that takes away who you are. You no longer show off your actual personality, you’re a bag of bones and skin stumbling around loosely, acting like nothing you would ever be outside of that influence. To me the people who met me while I was in that state still haven’t actually met me because that wasn’t me, that wasn’t anything that resembled me.

My nature is to own my own shit and I didn’t look after my illness properly. I was happy to pay for that because that was on me. But I fear that the longer I’m outcasted and the longer I’m not working full time the greater that resentment grows. That’s not who I want to be. There’s no fun or happiness with other people when you’re *that* guy in the industry.

So that’s a long convoluted way of saying that February is just when I switch into an even more part-time football analyst than I already am. I can’t focus so much on a career path that has a locked gate in front of it. I’ll still be doing the Patreon as much as I can and I’m not going to be able to find a job quickly so there’ll definitely still be content early in the offseason. It’s a change of direction and you might not even notice it.

But regardless, it’s better to be healthy and functioning properly than to be falling apart privately but together in the public eye. I’m not happy all this happened but I’m happy it didn’t continue on that path and turn into something serious. Who knows where it would have gone surpassed last year if I never woke up from that haze.

There are people to highlight/thank who I can’t point to because they are public figures and I don’t know if they want to be associated with me or not, but I do have to note the CTD guys (Zach, Tom, Jade and Amin especially) for embracing me the past year. Hot Take Route may not be the biggest deal in football coverage but it’s helped me laugh and enjoy my work again while also just giving me a sense of inclusion with people at a time when everyone else has pushed me away.

If 25 people reached out to me last year then 12 of them were CTDers. None of them have brushed past me being an idiot but they’ve all accepted that I wasn’t right at the time and been as good to me as I could have hoped for.

I’m not sure if I’ve publicly explained this before, I know I have privately to a bunch of people, but there were different groups of people who could be sorted by their reactions to me after I became a “scandal.”

1. People who used me for the purposes of their own careers. People who were higher up in the food chain than you but wanted to take from your work to make their work better or people who were lower on the food chain than you who were only dealing with you in the hopes you’d help pull them up. That group just cuts you out instantly. They are the business is everything types. You are tainted to them and only represent potential problems. Which is fine if that’s the way you live.

2. People who recognized that you can make a mistake without it defining you. Most of this group said things along the lines of “I don’t know what you did but I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t have done anything wrong on purpose.” I really appreciated those people. It’s a rational line of thinking regardless of whether they were right or wrong about me specifically.

3. People who simply didn’t care. “I don’t care what you did and nobody else will in a week.” My problem with that group is that I still care 12 months ago and people should care what you do because if you do something shitty it matters. You can’t just brush those things aside because while one doesn’t define who you are the culmination of the things you do does define you.

Some people made no effort, some people made an initial effort and a very small group of people made efforts that lasted months. And it led to some great conversations about life and the way in which it should be lived. I was baffled initially by the people who said their respect for me grew but looking back with hindsight I understand why they said that now. The line that sticks with me from those conversations is “Everyone makes mistakes but how you react to them is what actually matters.”

I should have moved on from this by now but I think it’s a good reflection of who I am that I haven’t. Because the person who does something wrong and just moves on is someone who doesn’t care that they did something wrong.

That’s the beauty of sitting in an airport for eight hours. It gives you time to sit down and throw all of this crap out of your head. It’s like that Harry Potter thing where he pulls the strings out of his head but instead of putting them into a pensive to remember them I throw them onto whoever is crazy enough to read these life posts of mine.

(He says “Harry Potter thing” to try and pretend he’s not a major Harry Potter nerd! Because you know *that* would be the embarrassing part of this post.)

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