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writing-prompts-for-friends · 4 years

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Questions to Help World Build

I’ve realized I have a big problem with my writing. I am awful at world-building. Like, I just start writing without thinking about the world. And since I write fantasy. Well. That’s pretty no bueno and leads to all kinds of problems down the road. So I did some brainstorming with my friends and we created a list of over 100 questions to help think about our stories’ worlds and make them more concrete. Thanks to everyone who chimed in and gave me a hand!

A traditional Japanese clock, wadokei, that counted hours from 9 to 4, starting from sunrise, and then starting once again from sunset. (1-3 were not used for religious purposes.) They’re super interesting and confusing. You should definitely check them out.

Temporal

Is your story set in the past, present, or future?

Specifically, what year(s), month(s), day(s)?

Are days 24 hours? Or does time pass differently in this world?

How many months are there in a year? Is it a seven day weekday? Does the concept of weekends exist?

Have most existing societies developed a timekeeping device?

Is there a way to communicate across long distances?

The concept of time zones is still relatively new to our world. Prior to the late nineteenth century, timekeeping was a purely local phenomenon. Each town would set their clocks to noon when the sun reached its zenith each day. Do standardized time zones exist across the world?

Geographical

From a planet perspective, is it Earth? If it is not Earth, or an alternative version of Earth, what is it like? Is gravity the same? Does it have a moon or multiple moons? Can you see other planets? Is it closer or further from the sun? If so, what impact does that have on the climate and passage of time?

What town, state, region, country, continent, planet does this story take place in? What are its bordering/nearest neighbors? Draw a world map if you want.

What kind of land is it? Landlocked? Mountainous? Along the sea? Desert? Tundra? Tropical forest? Plains? Agricultural? Industrial?

What kind of plants and animals are common to the area? Are there any that do not exist in the real world?

What are the most common crops and livestock in various regions? What geographic features influence certain regions ability to grow/raise their crops and livestock (positively and negatively)? Are the regions diets strongly influenced by what they are able to grow themselves, or do other circumstances (like strong international trade) allow them to have more varied selections? How does religion influence what is considered ‘normal’ to eat?

What, if any, natural disasters are common to the region? Earthquakes, floods, tornadoes, monsoons, blizzards?

How many seasons does it have? Are any longer than others?

What is the typical weather like for those seasons?

Does the region have any unusual geographical features that set it apart? Perhaps there is some weird thing like Devil’s Tower just chilling out. Or hot springs because of volcanic activity?

Is it easy to travel from place to place within the area? Is it difficult to travel because of terrain/technology issues, or because travel is strictly regulated?

Main Locations: Cities

Many stories take place within one city. In Neil Gaiman’s Sandman, a character remarks, “So, if a city has a personality, maybe it also has a soul. Maybe it dreams.” What personality does this city have? What soul does it have? What does it dream of when it slumbers? If your story takes place within a settlement, town, or city, give these questions some thought.

Exactly where is it located within the lands you conjured up in the above Geography questions? Does it have a bay? A river? Does it butt up against mountains? Draw a map of the city.

How big is the city? Is it compact, or sprawling?

How old is the city?

What is the history of the city? How did it come to be? What tumults and triumphs has it seen?

What is the population? Is it currently increasing, decreasing, or remaining the same?

Does the town have any claim to fame? Any tourist attractions? What are they? What’s the story behind them?

If it’s a big enough city, how many and what kind of districts does it have? Residential, Commercial, Industrial, etc. Where are they?

Are there any areas that are deemed unsafe? If so, where are they and why are they unsafe?

Is there public transportation? What kind, bus, tram, train, subway, monorail? Is it good?

How do people get around this city if not by public transportation?

Are the roads narrow or wide? Crisscrossing in a methodical grid or higgledy-piggledy?

What are the buildings like? What materials are they made of? If they’re wooden, are they new wood, old wood? If they’re painted, what colors? If they’re stone, what stone? If they’re brick, is it new red brick or blackened, crumbling brick? If they’re glass and metal, are they sparkling with new hope or dull and jaded?

Are there many skyscrapers? Or are most buildings 1-3 stories tall? What does the skyline look like?

Are there many parks?

How is the city powered? Coal? Hydroelectric? Wind? Nuclear? Has it always been so?

What is the city’s main source of revenue? Agriculture? Tourism? Manufacturing? Mining? Something else? A combination? Dive deeper into this. If it’s agriculture, what do they grow? Tourism–what is famous? etc. This will help to determine what a lot of people do for a living.

What are the demographics? Ethnicity, age distribution, distribution of upper, middle, and lower class, etc.

How many schools are there? Universities? Are any of them good? Do they specialize in anything? Do schools even exist? Perhaps there are clans that teach their children everything they need, for example, or education isn’t viewed as important.

Are there any particular landmarks within the city that standout?

How many and what kind of restaurants are there?

Are there supermarkets, open air markets, or both?

Where do young people go to spend time? What about adults?

Do people there bustle or do they amble?

What are the nights like? Does the city grow quiet, or does it grow rowdy?

What does the city smell like?

If you had to give your town a color, one that represented its personality, what color would it be?

Main Locations: Houses (or buildings, but mainly houses)

There are many stories that have a house or headquarters or hospital or some sort of building as their main setting. These questions will mostly be geared towards helping you figure out a house, but you can apply these to other buildings too probably.

Exactly where is the house located within the city or outside the city? How does your character usually get there? Draw a map.

What year was the house built?

Was this house built by the current family or their ancestors? Who else lived in the house before the current dwellers? What were they like? Did they leave their mark on the house somehow?

What style is the house? Bungalow? Cabin? A shed? A cave? (makes the following questions mostly useless if so lol)

How many stories is it?

What is it made of? Wood? Brick? What color is it?

Does it have a lot of windows?

Are the curtains usually open or drawn? Are thee curtains at all?

What does the front door look like?

Is there a porch?

You enter the front door. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you use the side door because the front door is for show or something. Anyways. You enter the house. What room do you step foot into?

Draw out the floor plans for each floor. How many rooms are there? Where are they? How big are they? How are they connected? What color are they? What style of decor?

Is there a basement? Is it used or is it just a home for spiders and darkness and unwanted things? How about an attic? Crawlspace?

How many bathrooms?

Are there any rooms that only certain people are allowed to enter? If so, why?

What is the flooring? Carpet? Wood? Tile? Linoleum?

What does the house smell like?

Government/Military/Economy

In other words, “the boring stuff,” if you ask me. But this is a very important aspect of any world.

What sort of government is in place? Democracy, oligarchy, etc? Is it a just or corrupt government?

How are goods exchanged? Bartering? Money? Coins and bills? Credit cards? A specific kind of sea shell? Lol

What are the police like? Strict? Lax? Is there a curfew?

Do taxes exist? If so, do the people feel as though they are heavily or unduly taxed?

Where is the intersection between theology and law? Is it common to have religious leaders in positions of power? Are laws based around religious ideology, or is there an effort to keep them separate?

Is there an organised structure devoted to halting criminal acts? Are they corrupt? Who runs the organisation? How does their reputation change based on demographic? What is the history of the organisation, and how does that history influence how it operates today?

Regarding potentially criminal acts, what is the elgality of prostitution, sex work, ect.?

What about drugs and other illicit substances? Alcohol, illicit drugs, recreational use. Legality, festivity, age limits, etc.

Underbelly. How prevalent is crime, what sort of crime (scaled from pickpocketing to human trafficking) is there? Are there areas that have bad reputations because of it?

Regarding war, are there currently conflicts in the world? Are they international or civil wars? How common is it to have an active war? What is the history of war? What does current warfare look like (Is it dudes in metal suits swinging swords? Have longbows been invented? Gunpowder? Tanks? Missiles?) Is military service mandatory or voluntary? How is the military seen? Is there a sense of patriotism for the military, or does the common man fear it?

Is there stigma around certain genders entering the military? Are come genders regarded as better recruits than others? Is it illegal for some genders to enter the military? Does a person's sexuality affect their ability to serve?

How has religion influenced war? Have there been holy wars in the past? Do any religious institutions hold their own military forces?

Cultural/Historical

I’ve put these together because events in history lead to cultural change. You can apply these questions not only to the world/country, but also the city or even the neighborhood, workplace, or school that your story takes place in.

What is the history of the region? Who was it settled by? Was another group of people displaced? After that, did any new cultures come in? Did they get along?

Were there ever any wars or serious conflicts in the region? What was the cause and what was the outcome of the war if there was one?

In our world, the internet, social media, and film/tv are massive cultural drivers. They determine the latest fashions, jokes, topics, and expressions. What are the big cultural drivers in your world? Books? Plays? Radio? Oral tradition?

Is it a collectivistic or individualistic society?

What languages are spoken by your characters? Is multilingualism common?

What sorts of cultures can be seen? Do any clash? Do any mesh?

What sort of foods are most common?

What superstitions do people hold? Is there a version of “knock on wood” or throwing salt over your shoulder after a funeral? What are the roots of these superstitions?

Are there religions? If so, what are they? Do any conflict with each other? Are zealots or extremists an issue?

Does slavery or indentured servitude exist?

Are there any class or caste systems? If so, what are they, and what does an average day look like for a member of each class/caste?

How does a person's appearance change from country to country? Do certain countries have very distinct fashions? If so, are the fashions influenced by religion, surrounding countries, the cultural majority or international trade partners?

How does a person's clothing relate to their social standing? Is it very easy to assume someone's roll by appearance alone? Are there punishments for dressing above or below your social standing?

Does the society place a great deal of importance on a person's presentation, or is the society more lenient on such things?

Is there an emphasis on conformity to a dress code, or is individuality encouraged? How strictly is clothing regulated by gender binary? Is it commonplace to see a man and a woman walking down the street in the same cut of clothes? Is there a social stigma when a person does not conform to the most common form of dress for their gender?

How are sexual rights viewed? Does the LGBTQ community have the same rights as people outside the community? How are sex acts between people of the same sex viewed? Is it legal? Taboo? Are there cultures that encourage those relationships in some circumstances (like how the romans were down with guys with guys in the military)?

Are there any groups of people that are victims of prejudice? If so, who are they, who holds these views against them, and what views specifically are they?

In regards to gender, do certain societies hold differing beliefs? Is there a commonly accepted number of gender identities or does it change regionally? Is the most common gender spectrum a binary, or do certain racial and cultural differences allow for a wider range to be seen as the baseline?

Are children raised by their biological parents or are children considered to be in the care of the wider community? Is it common/acceptable for extended family to raise children, such as parents needing to study, work, or serve time in the military? Is adoption a common thing in society? Is there a stigma around adoption/being adopted? Do cultural or religious views impact how adoption is seen by the wider community? What is adoption like for a single perspective parent? When adopting, is interracial adoption accepted/common, or is it seen in a negative light? Are some societies more open to adopting children outside of their own race?

How is sex and virginity viewed? Does religion influence it? What is the age of consent? What is appropriate on a first, second, third date? Is sex something that is talked about openly, or something taboo? Are you supposed to wait until marriage? Do couples stay monogamous while dating? Do some regions place higher importance on virginity than others? Do some place higher importance on one gender’s virginity than others?

How is marriage viewed? Are arranged marriages a big thing, or are people free to choose? Is monogamy common? How is a marriage symbolized? A wedding ring, or something different?

How is divorce viewed? What is the divorce rate? Can people remarry?

Magic and the Supernatural

If magic or spooky stuff doesn’t exist in your story, disregard this section.

Does magic exist? If so, who can use it? What are the limitations to their magic? What things are they capable of using their magic to do? What things are they incapable of doing?

Are there laws against what kind of magic can/cannot be used? What sort of laws? Who enforces them? What are the punishments for breaking said laws if they exist?

How does the existence of magic affect religion? Are there religious institutions that infuse magic into their worship? Are there religious sects that see magic as immoral and in direct opposition to their faith? Have there been conflicts in recent or ancient history between religion and the supernatural? Do some sects employ people to hunt and/or enforce law over the supernatural?

Assuming that magic does exist, is it taught? Are there different schools of magic? Is there a system of ranking for magic users based on their skill level?

Do non-magic users look towards magic users with respect or fear?

What role does magic play in this world? Has technology not advanced because magic solves many problems? Or has technology advanced and the use of some magics has become unnecessary?

Are there any mythological creatures/monsters, such as vampires, demons, skinwalkers, dragons, or other creatures of your own creation? Are they common? Do people believe in their existence? Do people worship them? Where can they be found? Do they interact with humans? Do humans fear them or try to put up with them as they do nature?

Do the dead continue to exist in some form, such as ghosts or zombies or the like? Can the dead be summoned or brought back to life?

Are there human/supernatural hybrids? Perhaps a half-demon half-human, for example? How are these people viewed by their peoples, and by society as a whole?

How has the supernatural influenced war? Do armies tend to have a mix of regular and supernatural soldiers/weapons? Have there been wars between the supernatural/magical and those without? How does magic influence a person standing in a mixed army? Is it more likely for a magical being to be promoted than a non-magical being? Conversely, are supernatural being forced into service and seen as pawns?

The End!

Please feel free to reblog and share, and add on any questions you think should be added!

#worldbuilding #world building #creative writing #writing fiction #writing tips #brainstorming #creative writing methodology #writing prompt #writing exercise #writing prompts for friends resources #long post #writing inspiration #writing prompts for friends

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maverick-werewolf · 3 years

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Werewolf Fact #60 - Werewolves Have Tails

Unbelievably, I never actually did a werewolf fact on this. But... Well, it disturbs me just how many random people on the internet I see making the utterly baseless assertion, as if they actually know, that “werewolves in folklore didn’t have tails.”

That is categorically untrue.

(Although plenty of things in Hollywood spurned tails on their werewolf designs for various reasons, Underworld remains the primary culprit for popularizing the concept of “my werewolf is too edgy and unwolfish to have a tail”)

Do werewolves in folklore have tails? The answer is so simple it can be shortened to just one word:

Yes.

Now, if you ask me, I think it looks totally ridiculous to have a werewolf with a wolf (or whatever modern designs pretend passes as something remotely wolfish; let’s face it, most werewolf designs, especially movie ones, have basically nothing in common with a wolf) head and/or digitigrade legs that doesn’t have a tail. Those need tails. But don’t get me started on werewolf designs.

I also personally think it’s much scarier for a werewolf to have a tail, and I don’t buy the arguments that they are “scarier without one,” because apparently startlingly bare werewolf butts sticking out like they’re begging to have a tail pinned on them are scary (?), and I’ll tell you why at the end of this post.

Before I get into the folklore meat of this, though, I will say that part of my personal stake in werewolf studies is to push for a less broad definition of the word “werewolf.” Personally, I don’t hold to many scholars’ ideas of calling every single person turning into a wolf a “werewolf,” and this applies doubly to things involving witchcraft.

Personally, I think a “werewolf” needs to fit a certain, meaningful criteria, instead of any old person or thing who has the ability to turn into a wolf.

To start off, I will open with the very simple statement that the overwhelming majority of werewolves in folklore turned into giant wolves. Yes, just wolves. Not wolves walking upright, not wolf-men, just wolves. And what do all wolves have? Tails. Case closed.

If that isn’t enough for you, though, there are many sources that detail exactly the how and why of werewolves having tails in folklore...

Firstly, there’s Henry Boguet in “Of the Metamorphosis of Men into Beasts,” from 1590 (my version was republished in A Lycanthropy Reader: Werewolves in Western Culture, edited and compiled by Charlotte F. Otten). On page 79 of this edition, Boguet marks a difference between werewolves and witches that have turned into wolves, repeating a common belief that, when witches turn into animals, they have “no tails.”

Notice that the witches do not have tails. The werewolves, however, do, and that is even specified as an identifying attribute.

Secondly, there’s the Malleus Maleficarum, specifically question X of part I, “Whether Witches can by some Glamour Change Men into Beasts.” I’m pulling this from Monatgue Summers’ translation.

They say that, “the devil can deceive the human fancy so that a man really seems to be an animal.” This specifically refers to deception. Thus, illusion. Not a true, physical change as we get with a werewolf.

Furthermore, however, they say that “when it says that no creature can be made by the power of the devil, this is manifestly true if Made is understood to mean Created. But if the word Made is taken to refer to natural production, it is certain that devils can make some imperfect creatures.”

“Imperfect,” in this instance, generally thought to refer to “tailless,” along with a few other legends, such as a witch in animal form still bearing human eyes. Again, witches.

Bear in mind that the Malleus Maleficarum was written and compiled during a time period in which werewolves were considered a form of witchcraft, although not equal to it. One could become a werewolf via a curse, without directly practicing that witchcraft. Long story short, werewolves and witches were NOT the same thing.

This also came from a time period when werewolves were considered negative (obviously), unlike in earlier time periods, and much more like today.

Moving on, we also have Albert the Great in his book On Animals, as cited by Montague Summers, who says that devils can indeed make animals: “they can, with God’s permission, make imperfect animals.” Again on the imperfection.

There is one scholar who disputes this very, very briefly in his writing, and that is actually one of my prime sources: Montague Summers. In his book The Werewolf, he remarks, “many–but not all– authorities hold that the werewolf has no tail.” Like, dude, what? We just established that they do.

Something to remember about Summers is that firstly, he truly believed in werewolves as a form of witchcraft. To him, werewolves are more closely connected with those aforementioned witches (that I think werewolves need to be separated from). Secondly, when he makes this sweeping statement, he provides absolutely no sources whatsoever and doesn’t really make any kind of argument to back up or to defend that idea. I’m calling his BS on that one.

Thirdly, we have an overwhelming number of other sources on werewolves being depicted with tails as opposed to without. We have imagery from various time periods (as appeared in my post on werewolf appearances; there are a few more images here), in which they are virtually always depicted with tails or mid-transformation into the form of a wolf, which would have a tail. One of the only depictions we have of a tailless werewolf is the wolf-man woodcut of the one eating the baby, which is in itself a rare sight, as werewolves weren’t generally “wolf-men” very often in folklore. And, frankly, I think somebody misnamed that woodcut, because I’ve never seen any sourcing on it and I don’t even know if it’s supposed to depict a werewolf in the first place.

Descriptions of werewolves in folklore frequently refer to tails, or else refer to the werewolf as simply a “wolf” and thus lead us to assume they must have a tail, or such a radical difference would’ve been noticed by the narrator (Niceros’s tale, Bisclavret, Melion, the curse of Lykaon, Chinese legends, and many more).

There are doubtless many more citations/discussions/arguments on this, but I think you get the picture.

Werewolves have tails. And not some funky little cut-off rat tail or some stub sticking out from their spine - a wolf tail.

And you know one reason why werewolves have tails? Because, ages ago, people didn’t see a terrifying werewolf and immediately go “omg puppy uwu must pet good boi” or “werewolves are so corny lol.”

Because, ages ago, the concept of a human turning into something so inhuman was terrifying. Unfortunately, everyone today has reframed like 90% of everything into “that is bad and corny” if it’s remotely fantasy. Regardless, the idea of a human turning into something with a tail - a tail being a markedly inhuman trait - was extremely scary and startling. A werewolf with a tail will always appear much less human than a werewolf without one, and that is something that brings them closer to being terrifying beasts as opposed to just hairy dudes.

So yes, sure it’s an aesthetic choice of the creator, but werewolves in folklore had tails, whether anyone likes it or not. And if they are anything beyond a wolf-man, they’re simply going to look better with tails, and if you ask me, that’s also something that will be the case whether anyone likes it or not. You hear me, Blizzard?

(If you like my werewolf blog, be sure to check out my other stuff and consider supporting me on Patreon!

Patreon — Wulfgard — Werewolf Fact Masterlist — Twitter --- Vampire Fact Masterlist )

#werewolf #werewolves #werewolf wednesday #werewolfwednesday #lycanthrope #lycanthropy #lycanthropes #folklore #random werewolf fact #werewolf fact #werewolf facts #tails #worgen #underworld #world of warcraft #wolves #wolf

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shinesurge · 3 years

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I’ve been holding off on making this post because I wanted to try it out myself and get settled in and make sure everything went okay, but seeing as I’ve gone ahead and updated my site and everything I thought now might be a good time to start talking about this publicly!

If you’ve known me for more than five minutes you know I fucking hate Webtoon, like, a lot. Every aspect of it disgusts me to the core of my being, and while Webtoon is the ugliest version of them the aspects that I hate also extend to basically any comic aggregate site. I hate that they treat artists like content robots, I hate that they treat comic readers like morons who aren’t capable of engaging with complex stories, I hate that they actively try to strip away all the cool parts of indie comics by cultivating sterile and impersonal environments that discourage artistic experimentation and unique expression.

So! I hope you’ll be interested in what I have to say about this new platform that’s (hopefully) going to be out of alpha this summer. If you think you like reading comics on Webtoon, I really encourage you to check out Dillyhub once it launches. That’s the short version, but I have a LOT to say about this! So I’m putting the rest of this under a cut.

Full disclosure, I’m not getting paid or anything for this. The creative outreach at Dillyhub contacted me a few weeks ago asking if I’d be interested in having Kidd Commander be one of their launch titles when they go live this summer. I was hesitant at first, since I actively distrust anything claiming to be For Creators at this point, but they answered my pushy questions patiently and everything seemed on the up and up so I gave it a shot; I’ve been needing a mobile mirror for KC anyway. Eventually they invited me to the alpha creator discord, where they’ve been working directly with all of us artists to improve the platform, and now to be honest I’m REALLY excited for this thing to get off the ground. Nobody asked me to make this post, but since I’ve spent years whining and bitching about how other services do wrong by their creators, I thought I’d talk about this one that’s doing things right.

So, the biggest advantage this site has for creators over others in my opinion is that it. Treats us like individuals, regardless of follower count lmfao. If you’re a new person just starting out with your new webcomic, here’s what webtoon does for you:

Note: you don’t get a custom banner, you don’t even get to choose the solid color it is. That big circle icon is ALSO the image that shows up in searches, but everywhere else on the site it’s a 100x100px square, so you have to choose whether you want it to look good as a giant circle at the top of your comic’s page OR whether you want to look good in search results. Which, by the way, is the ONLY way for people to find you if you’re not partnered. And that’s it! You have no monetization options, you won’t show up on the genre pages, and when someone DOES stumble across your page it looks super unprofessional. Good Luck!

Now here’s my Dillyhub page(s):

You don’t get a static banner and one icon, you get a whole carousel banner with as many images as you want front and center as soon as you get to the project page. You get seven (custom!) genre tags, as opposed to Webtoon’s single tag you have to pick from their list, and plenty of room to talk about your work. The episodes are even laid out better, you get a MUCH bigger preview space to work with and they’re nice and big on the bottom half of the page:

you know, like they’re actually presenting ART lmfao.

That’s already an ENORMOUS improvement, but here’s my favorite thing.

o hm that’s a lot of super cushy settings I have for every individual episode, but what’s that, Episode Type?

LIKE.

listen, i know this is probably a bit specialized if you’re not a comic maker yourself, but this is a HUGE DEAL. You can post vertically OR page by page! You can even post pages two at a time for double page spreads, or so they read like a physical comic book! AND their specs are really open, as long as the file meets the size requirement you can make it whatever shape you want. You don’t have to reformat all your shit to post here!! I posted the entire first volume of KC STRAIGHT FROM THE PRINT FILES in like half an hour!!! The episodes can also be any amount of pages, you can post a single page or an entire chapter all in one go!

So that’s just the project page for the comic, let’s see what happens when I click on my username there.

Each author gets their own unique page (which you can tack a vanity url to!) to present themselves however they want! You always have the banner at the top, but beyond that you have a ton of options. Among other incredibly useful tools that really should just be bare fucking minimum at this point, like the ability to preview your page on different devices, you start customizing your blank page with this set of widgets,

and from THERE you can customize them MORE, you can promote your patreon or your kickstarter or whatever! Having this creator space ALSO means that if you run several comics, or if you want to promote your comic AND your illustrations, you can just separate them into individual projects! Each with their own page! This is also really nice as a reader because you can subscribe to a creator but you can also just subscribe to specific projects, if you don’t want to get ALL of their stuff in your inbox. It’s so good y’all hh.

Once again, all of this functionality is just THERE as soon as you make your account. You don’t need to be “partnered” or whatever the fuck, you don’t need to meet a certain follower threshold to unlock the ability to operate normally. You get your own creator space to present yourself how you prefer, you get pages for all your projects, you can even set up monetization options (and change them for individual pages IN a project) right from the start.

ok ok let’s compare this to my webtoon page

oh that’s right webtoon just puts your greyed out name at the bottom of each comic and that’s it because human beings don’t make this stuff, my bad lol anyway

Other fun shit that Dillyhub does that makes me feel like they’re people who have actually consumed or made comics on the internet at some point in their lives:

-When you log into the “studio” space, you’re in your creator account. When you log OUT of the studio space, it’s like you swap to a “reader” account, where you can access your pull list and comment on things with a different name and profile icon. Again, maybe only cool if you’re a creator, but if you ARE then you know exactly why this is incredibly useful lmao

-You can set up “hidden” projects, so if you only want certain things to be accessible by certain people or to not show up in searches that’s an option! You have SO much control here it’s great.

-The comment section has moderation options GODDD. You also have a real comment space, you know, so it actually encourages building a community (and a rapport with your community, if you like), and you also can just turn comments off entirely if you want! I haven’t used it much yet, obviously, but it’s been made very clear in the discord that artists want better control over their comment sections and the devs have it on their priority list.

-Absolutely every step of customization gives you a preview before it’s live, so you can easily see what these images you’re posting in different places are going to look like before you beam them to your followers’ inboxes. This includes individual episodes!

-This was sort of in one of the screenshots but it’s important so I’m saying it here too: the option to mark individual episodes as mature or with content warnings, rather than having to mark an entire comic as Mature Spooky Scary Content because of one or two pages getting a bit hairy.

This site is only in alpha right now, and it’s invite-only until they get to beta (for creators; anyone can make a reader account! but they haven’t set up a way to browse comics without direct links yet so) but honest to god it’s already blowing every other site I’ve used clean out of the water. And the staff has been really kind and responsive to us proposing fixes or changes! I will always defend individual websites as being the best option for an indie comic, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere and we NEED something that isn’t Tumblr or Webtoon to fill this role; this site feels a lot more like a symbiotic relationship than any of the other staples available for new creators right now. If you’re a comic reader and you want to see your favorite comics on Dillyhub I’d suggest keeping an eye on this site and once it’s live start poking them to look into it, and if you’re a creator follow their social media and hop in when they open up for anybody to join. I would LOVE to see this site take off as a viable option for hosting and reading comics.

Thanks for reading all this! I haven’t quite finished setting up yet, but if you want to poke around a project/creator page for yourself mine is here have at it. As things progress I’m sure I’ll have more to say, but since I’m usually so aggressively negative about places like this I just wanted to give some credit where it was due. fucking finally.

#long post #i want this site to obliterate webtoon so fucking bad lmfao

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

Text

Where the Love Light Gleams

Killian was going to kill his brother.

Which wasn’t very festive, but neither was being away from his girlfriend on Christmas Eve and this was all Liam’s fault. Or so he would claim. While rationalizing his current tendency to wallow, and stare at his phone and he’d spent far too much time on his phone that night.

Whatever, it was Christmas Eve. That was definitely a reasonable excuse.

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Rating: Teen, with banter and friendship and kissing Word Count: 5.1 K AN: It’s me! Someone who can’t seem to write an MC to save her present life, but loves few things more than Christmas-type fluff and is therefore filling Christmas-type prompts again. Today’s comes from @shireness-says who is always wonderful about replying to these sort of things and requested:

"you had a business trip and i missed you so much that i kind of tore up the house in your absence like a dog with separation anxiety… sorry?" and “we’ve become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about. "

Both of which I almost legitimately filled. Just kind of—twisted. As is tradition. If you are so inclined to send a prompt from this very long list, you can pick one here, and I’ll do my best to write it before Christmas.

This one is also on Ao3 if that’s your jam, where I’ll be posting all of ‘em.

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“Are you moping? It kind of looks like you’re moping.”

“Wow, such unparalleled observational skills. You should become a private investigator.”

Sticking her tongue out, Ariel made some sort of objection-type noise in the back of her throat, which probably would have made Killian smile in any other situation. On any other day. A day that wasn’t Christmas Eve.

When he was absolutely, positively moping.

It was a miracle he hadn’t frozen like this. That would have done irreparable damage to his spine, he was sure.

He wasn’t really sitting up very straight.

“There can’t possibly still be private investigators in the world,” Ariel challenged, brushing a wayward strand of hair away from her face and it was far too windy on the docks. If Killian didn’t get off the docks soon, he was going to scream.

Or mope for the rest of the holiday season. At least until the New Year. That seemed reasonable, honestly.

He was going to strangle Liam.

This was all his fault.

“You’re kidding me, right? What—what kind of world do you think we’re living in?” Ariel shrugged. “One that’s progressed past the need for private investigators, obviously. And I object to the notion that I would require any sort of PI-type skills to know that you’re being an absolute and complete, although also kind of understandable, idiot.”

“Those words don’t go together.” “What do people hire private investigators for, anyway?” “Loads of stuff.” “Give me one example.” He huffed, irritation rattling around his skull and mixing in with a begrudging appreciation because he knew Ariel felt bad and maybe he’d kick Liam too. “Missing kids.” “Yeesh, that’s awfully negative.” “What was that about accusing me of moping before? I’m playing to those accusations.” “Ok, but we already decided they were observations, so you don’t get to rename them now that you’re feeling particularly jerk-like.” “I’m here, aren’t I? Makes it seem less jerk-like.”

Another shrug. And a specific quirk of her lips that Killian was far too well-acquainted with. The muscles in his cheeks were almost starting to ache.

Presumably from holding them in this position for so long.

He was absolutely moping.

But he’d already been in Boston two days longer than he planned on, and none of this was really going according to plan. He’d checked his phone no less than forty-seven times in the last forty-five minutes. He hated that. Staring at that screen made him feel like a clingy freak, who couldn’t go more than a few minutes without talking to his girlfriend, and Killian had complained about those people enough times that his current tendency to do it made him despise himself just a bit.

And yet he couldn’t stop.

His thumbs flew across the keys, sending complaints and updates and smiling in spite of his own situation.

Like a psychopath. One who was quite obviously frustrated.

With several thousand things, it seemed — the most pressing of which was his distinct lack of festive nature, caused almost entirely by the issues with the expansion in Boston and adding another ship in Boston was supposed to be easy.

Until Eric got the flu, and it was understandably difficult to captain a sightseeing holiday cruise when you couldn’t actually stand up for more than two minutes at a time, and Killian couldn’t say no to his brother when they both had so much money tied up in this, and if Liam was going to fly in to make sure everything stayed the metaphorical course, then the least Killian could do was drive in from New York.

Or so Liam had told him. In no uncertain terms.

Except Liam had also brought Belle with him and that somehow seemed like cheating, and Killian should have asked Emma to come.

She had to work. He’d missed Mary Margaret and David’s Christmas Eve party.

Which normally wouldn’t have felt like the end of the world, partially because Mary Margaret’s fruitcake was notoriously awful, but this year it made Killian’s heart feel like it was fragmenting in his chest and Emma’s photos had gotten progressively more and more blurry as the night went on. Mary Margaret also notoriously bought a questionable number of Prosecco bottles for the Christmas Eve party.

“You are,” Ariel agreed, a string of words that caught Killian off guard when he was so deep in his own wallowing. “Which is super nice, but—” “—How can there be a but in this situation?” “There are several, actually, except the biggest one is how three different people on tonight’s cruise wanted to know why the first mate was so obviously distracted.” “They called me first mate?” “People think it’s funny to use nautical terms in real life.”

Slumping forward did not do anything to help the state of Killian’s spine, only managed to make sure his hair fluttered in front of his eyes when a salt-tinged breeze blew off the Harbor and he briefly wondered how dramatic he could get. He needed to exhale some more.

He needed to go home. “Anyway,” Ariel continued, “they wanted to know why the first mate was on his phone all the time, and if the first mate was available and—” “—I’m sorry, what?”

“You have a face, you know that right?” “Now you’re just saying words.”

If she kept sticking her tongue out at its current rate, it was going to get frost-bitten. “These are compliments, you’re an ass and I owe you just—a metric ton of rum, the good kind, for doing all of this.” “Giving me whiplash,” Killian muttered, but one side of his mouth tugged up despite his best efforts to remain as depressing as possible. Ariel’s eyes got brighter. Rivaled the lights still flickering along the railing of their very nice, very new, decidedly expensive multi-level ship, and it had only taken about fourteen seconds for Killian to make that one photo Emma had sent him his phone background.

That probably wasn’t weird.

“So, people wanted to know about you,” Ariel said, “and your previously discussed face, and rather than employee a PI because it’s not 1947—” “—Oddly specific.” “I will kill you.” “God bless us, everyone.” “Your very helpful and exceedingly sure of his own obnoxious brand of humor brother was very quick to inform all the interested parties that the first mate was distracted because he unfortunately wasn’t with his wife for Christmas.”

Ariel’s murder threat was not only out of place considering the date, it was pointless because he was going to guarantee he died all on his own. Killian nearly fell off the edge of the dock.

One of his knees buckled, gaping at his friend and business partner like she’d only recently grown a few extra heads. She didn’t shrug again. Smiled, in her best impression of a variety of fictional and overly confident cats, but her shoulders stayed frustratingly still and that was—

“Emma and I aren’t married,” Killian sputtered, not entirely stunned to find those particular words difficult to say in that order. Half a plan rattled around with the rest of the emotions circling his skull, and he hadn’t really acted on the plan, but he’d been pondering and considering for at least a few weeks before his phone had rung.

And that was only kind of a lie.

He’d been doing a lot more than pondering for much longer than a few weeks. Considering had flown out the imaginary window, like—as soon as he and Emma had moved in together.

Liam didn’t know any of that, though.

At least in theory.

Maybe strangling his brother was something of an overreaction.

He still wanted to go home, though.

“Liam knows that,” Ariel reasoned, “and I know that. And obviously you know that, but none of your on-water admirers know that, and you were playing your part very well.” “What?” “Glued to your phone, all night. Like a clingy newlywed.” “That’s ridiculous.” “Is it? Because while not technically true—” “—Or true at all,” Killian interrupted, and he wondered if he was getting used to the feel of his heart doing whatever it was doing, or he was just growing more melodramatic by the second. At some point in the last twelve minutes the idea of walking back to New York had become rather appealing.

“Well, whatever. It was a good excuse, and it’s not like it was one-sided texting and it’s kind of romantic. All things considered.” “What are all the things, exactly?” That shrug came with another smile — far too knowing for Killian’s liking, but he also knew Ariel wouldn’t go back on her rum-buying word, and he supposed there was something to be said for that. Especially if it was good rum. “If you’re going to play the part…” “Look who’s being a romantic now.” “I’ve spent most of the lead-up to Christmas trying to force-feed Pedialyte on my husband. Got to get my romance from somewhere and you’re like—Hallmark Channel ready.” “Probably couldn’t have as much alcohol, then.” “How many bottles of Prosecco do you think Mary Margaret bought this year?”

Tugging his phone out of his pocket, Killian scrolled back through the more than two dozen photos he’d been sent over the course of the night until he found the one he was looking for. Of a table covered in green-hued bottles with plastic champagne flutes that Mary Margaret must have bought in bulk and—

Ariel’s laugh hung in the air around them, louder than it probably should have been considering the time, but they were also by themselves and he was still kind of moping. So. The world could cope with their collective volume.

“Do you think she gets a discount for buying so many?” Killian shook his head. “If she doesn’t, she’s being robbed.” “Get the private investigators on the case.” “Challenge Liam to a comedic battle.” “Not if we’re calling it that,” Ariel argued, bumping her shoulder against Killian’s leg. And he wasn’t sure if he was actually smiling, but his lips were moving and his heart didn’t appear to be shattering quite as much anymore and he hoped Emma fell asleep.

On Mary Margaret and David’s couch.

They wouldn’t let her go home, he was sure.

He hadn't gotten a text in awhile.

He was less sure about the shadows moving towards them, though — because he’d been a little distracted when they docked, but he watched Liam and Belle get into their rental car and there was absolutely no reason for either one of them to be back on the docks, but anyone else showing up on the docks at eleven o’clock at night was probably a sign that Killian and Ariel were about to be robbed. In a far more literal sense than whatever happened with Mary Margaret and her plastic champagne flutes.

“You guys good?” Ariel asked, sounding more aware of what was going on than she should have been. Killian’s eyes narrowed.

That made it only slightly difficult to see the overall width of his brother’s answering smile.

Plus, it was dark out.

“Better,” Liam said, “she's an absolute natural.”

Scrunching her nose, Belle waved off the compliment. “Please, all I have to do is stand there and be helpful.” “Yeah, but that’s more than Killian was able to do today, so…” “He was distracted.” “And standing right here,” Killian muttered, although standing was a little generous. His left knee was still awful bent. In an unnatural sort of way. “Doesn’t that hurt?” Liam asked. Gesturing towards Killian’s posture, he tilted his head and that was even more judgmental than any of the words Ariel hadn’t bothered saying. “Can’t be good for your ACL or whatever.” Belle clicked her tongue. “Adding the whatever makes it sound less official, really.” “And we’re trying to be official,” Ariel chipped in, clamoring to her feet. By using the side of Killian’s jacket for leverage, tugging on fabric until she threatened to tear it and that also would have been impressive if it didn’t feel suspiciously like he was about to pass out.

She wrapped her arms around Killian’s middle.

That kind of helped, honestly.

He’d never admit to it.

“Official about what, exactly?” Killian asked. “What are you guys doing here?”

Liam’s smile got wider. “We could ask you the same question, but we’ve already claimed way too much of your time and—” “—Wait, what?” “Killian seriously,” Ariel sighed, “if you keep interrupting, we’re never going to get to the fun and passably romantic part of the plan.” “Oh, no it’s definitely more than passably romantic,” Belle argued.

“Depends on him, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but he was glued to his phone and I’ve got at least twenty bucks on this happening before New Year’s Eve, so—” “—New Year’s Eve would be really romantic, actually!” “No, no, no,” Liam objected, voice rising on every repeat, “I’ve got Christmas morning, and that means he’s got to go now.” Not having anything to drink made it impossible for Killian to claim intoxication as a reason for the current spin rate of his head. Metaphorically, at least. Even so, he felt a little dizzy and slightly out of breath, trying very hard not to topple into the water.

There was no way he’d be able to disentangle himself from Ariel before he did that.

And then she’d get annoyed.

“What is going on?” Killian demanded, pausing between each word for emphasis. Liam’s lips disappeared. Behind his teeth.

While he failed spectacularly at containing his laugh. “We’re kicking you out,” Belle said simply, like that made sense and they hadn’t all but required his presence in Boston less than seventy-two hours earlier.

Killian blinked. Once, twice. Half a dozen times. Nothing changed. Ariel’s arms tightened, maybe — but Liam didn’t move, and Belle’s nose still had that scrunch-like effect, and the lights on their ship really did make it appropriately festive.

“And apologizing,” Ariel added. “We should make that more obvious.”

Blinking more was stupid.

Talking probably would have helped. But Killian’s tongue suddenly took up far too much space in his mouth, next to all the imaginary cotton balls that were impeding his ability to breathe and it could not have been healthy for so many body parts to consistently fail like that.

“This is really my fault,” Liam admitted, taking a step forward to clap Killian on the shoulder. His right knee bent that time. At least his reactions were symmetrical. “And I—well, I...I was so worried about the money and the party and—” “—We didn’t really think about your plans,” Belle finished. Opening his mouth, Killian genuinely could not come up with a word to describe whatever sound he made. Something between a scoff and that huff he was trying to accomplish before, but also drifting dangerously close to laughter borne of disbelief and his back actually had the gall to pop when he leaned forward.

“I don’t have plans.” “Please,” Ariel scoffed, “you have at least the hope for plans, and that’s nice in a way that deserves a better adjective and all that rum I promise.” Liam’s eyes widened. “How much rum are we talking?” “Enough that you stop spending so much time talking about the proper light to string ratio.” “What does that even mean?” Killian balked.

Shaking her head, Belle moved into his space as well. Both her hands landed on the front of his jacket, and Killian wasn’t exactly cold per se, but there was something inherently comforting about his sister-in-law’s smile and the way she always smelled a bit like vanilla.

As if she were just minutes away from baking something, at all times.

“Telling you to come here was a dick move,” Belle announced, Ariel’s head finding Killian’s shoulder when she started to cackle once more. They were all standing too close to each other. Someone was going to step on someone else’s foot. “And,” she continued, “Liam was right. This is totally his fault, but he’s running on like...no sleep, because we’re—” She grit her teeth, another unfinished sentence that frustrated Killian for about eight and half seconds. Before it all clicked at nine. “No, shit.” “Shit,” Belle confirmed, another smile and her left foot landed on Killian’s right when he pulled into a far-too-tight hug. Ariel had to move her arms. “Babies are expensive you see,” Liam said, “and we’d already funneled so much money into this, the party had to happen and I wasn’t sure if Belle was going to be able to come with me because—” “—They don’t tell you morning sickness lasts all day,” she grumbled. Killian’s laugh had an almost manic edge to it, suddenly happier than he thought he could be and that was more appropriate for the time. Of both the day and season.

“So,” Liam added, “I kind of lost my mind about Eric, and didn’t think about you or Emma or how stupid you’d be when you weren’t around Emma at Christmas because it’s so goddamn obvious what you’re planning.”

Heat rose in Killian’s cheeks, a questionably large inferno that suddenly flared to life in the pit of his stomach. “I haven’t totally decided.” “Yeah, well that’s dumb.” “Rife with opinions tonight, aren’t you?” “We’re kicking you out,” Belle repeated. “With our apologies that I wasn’t on the ship tonight because that shrimp appetizer smell made me want to die a little.” Ariel sighed. “Do all our statements have to be so violent? There should be more positivity to all of this.” “There will be if Killian can get me my twenty bucks.” “Why are you betting on this?” he asked, but the distinct lack of frustration in his voice was obvious even to him. Belle laughed. “Because calling you a newlywed was not nearly as unbelievable as it should have been, and if you get with the program you could probably have your rehearsal dinner on one of our very accommodating ships with an appetizer that does not include shrimp.” “I’m not really a huge fan of shellfish.” “See, the perfect plan.” An objection sat on the tip of Killian’s tongue — if only because he was decidedly stubborn and now a little worried about his brother’s expanding family, but his own family was not in Boston and he’d really like Emma to be his family. In an official sort of capacity.

“But what about—” “—No, absolutely not,” Belle cut in before Killian could finish, “that’s what we were doing. Going over the plans for tomorrow’s lunch cruise, and everything you were supposed to do, which I’m pretty confident I can do now, mostly because my husband is here and I won’t be tempted to text him the entire time.” “At least not much,” Liam quipped. The pinch between Killian’s eyebrows was going to stay there forever. If not longer. “And then I’ll also text you, at an appropriate time tomorrow, to apologize for being a massive Christmas bastard.” Hair hit Killian’s cheek. Not his. Distinctly red and smelling like shampoo she’d definitely spent far too much money on, Ariel’s hair blew around her when she threw her head back. With laughter. The catching sort, spreading like wildfire through their tiny group, until Belle had to wrap her arm around her middle to stay up, and Killian’s stomach ached just a bit and it took him a moment to realize he’d made another fire pun.

In his head. He needed to go home.

“Was Ariel a distraction?”

She kicked his ankle. “Rude, and yeah obviously. Liam is so goddamn overprotective with his unborn child, it’s disgusting.” “And nice,” Belle grinned.

Exhaling, Liam tugged on the back of his hair. A tell, and an apology without the words. Killian wanted the words. Even if it took a few extra minutes. “Seriously,” Liam said, “a Christmas bastard, which is not an excuse, but—I’m sorry. For the batard’ness, and bringing you here, and not explaining the reasons behind the bastard. And also for ruining your plans.” “I really have no plans,” Killian promised, but that fell a bit flat and he at least had rather specific wants. Of the desire-type variety.

“So fix that. Like as soon as possible.” “For my twenty bucks,” Belle said with another yank on Killian’s jacket. The poor jacket was not going to last much longer.

Ariel rolled her eyes. “She’s obsessed with the twenty bucks.” “Because your husband will have to pay it!” “Should you have bet with an invalid?” Killian asked, trying without much immediate success to take a step away from either one of them. “And what kind of Pedialyte flavor are you forcing?” “The purple kind.” “Blue’s definitely better.” Liam looked frustrated.

That felt like something of a victory. “Were you going to go, Killian? Or—” Kissing the top of Ariel’s hair and pulling Belle into one more hug, Killian flipped off his brother, muttered Merry Christmas, don’t sink the boat, and would never admit to running back towards his car. Or how quickly he drove home.

It took at least twenty-six minutes to find a parking spot.

Four blocks away.

Still, Killian assumed he was running on holiday-fueled adrenaline and something almost resembling romance and the distinct lack of anything in his pocket was a challenge he viewed as quirky more than anything else.

He bounded up the steps, nearly dropping his keys more than once before he managed to unlock the door only to be immediately hit in the face. With what felt suspiciously like garland.

And Killian hadn’t really planned on spending much time in their apartment, only thinking about a few hours of sleep before driving to Mary Margaret and David’s house on the Island because he might have come up with half a list of sweepingly romantic things to do, but he wasn’t a total jerk who would show up on someone else’s doorstep in the middle of the goddamn night, and it obviously did not make a single ounce of difference.

While he was being strangled with garland.

Blinking against the darkness of their living room, Killian’s brain couldn’t quite come to terms with what he was seeing. Like the ninth floor of the Herald Square Macy’s had exploded. Tinsel hung from what appeared to be actual ivy, pinned along the top of the wall with startling accuracy. Lights meant to resemble icicles reflected against every window pane, and there was an actual tree in the corner.

Every one of his inhales had a distinct pine-like scent to it, like he was standing in the middle of a forest, and Killian did not think they owned that many ornaments when he left.

They hadn’t owned any ornaments, so it was a rather easy number to remember.

A star was balanced precariously at the top of the tree, paper snowflakes dropping from the ceiling and—

Emma curled in the corner of the couch.

With at least four blankets covering her. She was a notorious blanket thief.

Mary Margaret hadn’t woken up either, twisted into the other end of the cushions, and Killian couldn’t fathom how they were comfortable, but he was also admittedly a little distracted by the desire of his lungs to keep providing oxygen to the rest of his body and David’s eyes were alarmingly wide.

“What are you doing here?” “I live here,” Killian hissed, swatting away the garland. Bits of it fell onto the top of his sneakers. “What are you doing here?” “Helping.” “What?” “Helping,” David said slowly, like Killian simply did not understand the word and not all the meaning behind it. “She—well, the decorations left something to be desired, and you know Mary Margaret. There’s a project, so she’s got to help and—” “—Wait, wait, wait, did Emma do all this?”

Waving both his hands in the air, David didn’t bother to say obviously when the movement made it so abundantly clear. Killian’s jaw dropped.

Something popped there as well. Which probably wasn’t what woke Emma up, but thinking that was almost nice in another way that deserve a better adjective, and the overall force of her smile as soon as her eyes landed on him made every bit of splintered heart still lingering in his chest knit itself back together.

Immediately.

“Should I be concerned that you’re deserting?” she asked, hooking her chin over the back of the couch. As if she’d been expecting this exact situation. Killian shook his head. “Nah, this is a wholly authorized shore leave.” David’s groan very likely hurt the inside of his throat.

“What happened here, Swan?” Pink immediately colored her expression, every one of her teeth obvious when she grit them. Mary Margaret must have been the soundest sleeper in the Universe. Or she’d had a questionable amount of Prosecco to drink that night. “Christmas?” That was as good a reason as any, honestly. Although that stubborn streak of his ran several nautical miles wide, and nearly tripping over the garland on his few steps towards the couch made Emma’s shoulders shake.

Killian knelt in front of her.

Step one accomplished, then.

“It’s super lame,” Emma warned, but Killian’s heart was doing more biologically impossible things and his eyes fluttered when she brushed his hair away from his forehead. “I just—well, you weren’t here, and that kind of ruined any of my festive-type feelings, which as we all know are shaky at best.” “Work in progress, love.” Her tongue sticking between her lips was not as annoying as Ariel’s had been. Killian figured that had something to do with the desire to kiss her. And not Ariel. Who would have smacked him at even the allusion to such a thing. “Well,” Emma mumbled, “the lack of appropriate holiday spirit reared its head like—as soon as you closed the door behind you, but then I went to the party and you kept texting me and—” “—I’m sorry, I was texting you? You were texting me!” “God,” David grumbled, dropping into the only chair left in the living room. There should have been more chairs in the living room. “It’s ridiculous, the pair of you.” Killian narrowed his eyes. Glaring was too difficult. “Why are you here?” “I told you, helping.” “He did,” Emma said. “Both him and Mary Margaret, really. I, ok—well, whoever was texting who, it doesn’t really matter. Just that Ruth thinks we’re married.” Of all the ways that sentence could have ended, Killian was loath to admit hearing that David’s mother believed the same lie Liam had been spouting to Boston tourists was not one of them.

“She does,” Emma continued, rushing over the words, “for some reason. But she kept saying how nice it was that a young couple like us was able to keep in touch when we weren’t together for the holidays and I was really kind of drunk, and even more upset that you weren’t going to be here, so my mind just kind of latched onto things and—” Pulling in a deep breath made her shoulders shift again, Killian’s eyes taking in every moment so he could commit them all to memory and the question was out of his mouth before he realized Emma was still talking. “Will you marry me?” “Do you want to get married?”

David fell out of the chair.

Slid, technically. Directly onto the floor and next to presents that were almost perfectly wrapped with color coordinated bows on each of them.

“What?” Killian breathed, Emma’s hand flying to her mouth. Left one, so that helped too actually. None of his fingers shook when he reached up, pulling that same hand down and kissing the bend of her knuckles. Tears clouded Emma’s eyes, falling on her cheeks faster than he could brush them away.

With his mouth. Killian tried all the same.

While ignoring the increasing volume of David’s rather uproarious laugh. He was texting someone. Probably Ariel, who very likely was requiring play-by-play. And had timed Killian’s drive home.

“That was kind of...this,” Emma explained, nodding towards the living room. “I—I wanted to decorate, and make it Christmas when you got back because...well, I blame the alcohol and your brother and—” “—That’s fair, honestly. Belle’s pregnant, by the way.” “No shit.” “Shit,” Killian confirmed, a repeat he’d share later. Once they got all this engagement business sorted out. “They’re pretty incredible decorations.” “Yeah, well flattery will get you everywhere.” Huffing out a breath, Emma’s head dropped to his, and that made it easier to get his fingers in her hair. “This made a lot of sense when I was drunker. But, uh—I needed to do something with all that energy and sudden holiday thoughts and I’ve got a lot of thoughts about your face, you know that?” Ariel was going to be insufferable.

Killian would make her buy some Moscato, too. That was Emma’s favorite. “Gave me something to do,” Emma added, “and then I figured you’d get home and there’d be some sweeping and we could do something about Ruth’s assumptions and I think we’d be really good at being married.” Kissing her was the only reasonable option. Even as David sounded like he was in physical pain.

Surging up, Killian’s mouth all but slammed into Emma’s, tilting his head so he got to that one, perfect angle that allowed his tongue to swipe across her lips and draw that even more perfect sound out of her, and he was only dimly aware of Mary Margaret waking up. The couch creaked when she moved.

Killian didn’t.

His fingers carded through Emma’s hair, only breaking apart to appease his lungs and the requirements of his body before kissing her again, and his knees kind of ached. Presumably from supporting most of their collective weight when Emma was kind of draped across him. “Don’t go in the bedroom, ok?” Humming against her only guaranteed David made another noise of protest, but it was nice that they’d helped decorate and Killian could only imagine how they’d gotten all that ivy on the wall.

“That’s, uh—” Emma leaned back, one of her eyes squeezed closed. “Where we put all the extra non-holiday stuff, and it’s kind of a disaster.”

“Tore up the apartment, like she had separation anxiety,” Mary Margaret slurred, and Killian refused to be held accountable for whatever his face did at that.

David rolled his whole head. Emma shrugged. He liked that one the best. “So, uh—” “Yeah,” Killian finished, before he could stop himself and any qualms either one of them had once had about clingy relationships or relationship qualifiers appeared to disappear before their eyes. Like frost on the window. Which was seasonally appropriate. “I think we’d be really good at marriage.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Where’d you get the decorations from, though?” “You’re welcome,” Mary Margaret replied, sounding a bit more coherent and just as exhausted. That was fair. It was close to four in the morning.

Emma nodded. “Definite separation anxiety. So we should probably not do this again, and then you can help decorate.” “Deal,” Killian promised, and they didn’t bother waiting for an appropriate time to call Liam. Or Ariel, who crowded into the video call because, as she claimed, it was her living room and her twenty bucks and her shriek probably affected the structural integrity of her house.

The rum showed up two days later.

And made for a very good toast, as soon Killian slipped the ring onto Emma’s finger. They picked it out together.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs fic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #festive fic a thon 2k20 #can't write an MC but can write 5K in like...four hours #naturally #enjoy this fluffy nonsense

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eternalglitch · 4 years

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Like Father Like Son: Chapter 3

Prologue Arc 1: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Mikey let out a small sound in the back of his throat, bending down to pick up the odachi by its hilt, hands shaking slightly. His reflection stared back at him, eyes wide and face a paler shade of green than was normal, pale enough that he could actually see his yellow freckles that oh so rarely showed up. “Guys?” he whispered. “Has Leo ever gone out without his weapon?”

Read it HERE on ao3.

Chapter Specific Warnings: no specific ones (please see the general ones listed in the prologue)

Chapter Three: All Green and Blue

“He’s not picking up. Why isn’t he picking up?!” Mikey demanded, looking up from his phone. The youngest couldn’t help but shift from foot to foot, a sort of buzzing energy from his anxiety making him want to move. Why couldn’t his brothers walk faster?

“Yeah, it is odd he wouldn’t answer either of us…” Donnie agreed, squinting at his wrist tech. “I can’t locate his phone’s location, either. It’s either out of battery or broken.”

Finally, Mikey thought with relief, Raph’s pace noticeably quickened, his brothers right on his heels. “Okay… okay. First, we’re gonna backtrack the possible routes to the pizza place, and then we’re going to check any place he could have ended up. Donnie?” The leader of the group glanced at the purple turtle, gaze expectant.

“On it, I’ll hack any nearby cameras and run a scanner through social media looking for buzzwords,” the technological prodigy replied, typing quickly. “I’ll compile a list of people that might’ve gone after him as well.”

“People that went after him?” Mikey asked, now even more nervous, his voice rising a pitch or two until it cracked completely. “You think the foot clan or Big Mama is behind this? What if they’ve hurt him?” Mikey reached out and clung to Donnie’s elbow, staring over at Donnie’s screen as stats whizzed by. The other turtle tolerated it, but didn’t stop typing to pat his shell or head. That was a sign things really were serious. “What if he’s all alone and scared or… or I don’t know! I can’t even begin to picture him being scared!”

“Again, Michael, I’m sure it’s really nothing, we’re just being thorough—“ Donnie finally started to reassure him, but his eyes never moved from the screen until a loud clatter rang out. Donnie froze, Mikey almost stumbling as he was also pulled to a sudden stop. They looked down.

Leo’s sword was lying, innocently forgotten, all alone on the sewer floor.

Mikey let out a small sound in the back of his throat, bending down to pick up the Odachi by its hilt, hands shaking slightly. His reflection stared back at him, eyes wide and face a paler shade of green than was normal, pale enough that he could actually see his yellow freckles that oh so rarely showed up. “Guys?” he whispered. “Has Leo ever gone out without his weapon?”

“I’m sure there’s a reason… or… or an explanation,” Donnie grasped at, but after he glanced at Raph, who shot him a panicked look, Donnie bowed his head, his eyes flicking back and forth as he thought.

It was Raph who spoke next, his voice low and urgent. “If something did go down– someone must’ve been inside of the sewers– I’m not sure Leo even made it outside for the pizzas in the first place.” The eldest scratched his head, his expression slowly darkening.

“So they came here purposefully looking for us and somehow we didn't even notice them brothernap Leo from right here?” Mikey looked around at the ground, eyes flicking up and down the sewer walls like the name of the culprit would be left behind with a clean, neat note. He needed someone to tell him flat out that it was going to be okay, he realized weakly, hugging the sword close. Someone to crack a bad joke about the situation, or know what to say. He needed… he needed his brother.

“I’ll call April,” Raph said, phone already out. He already had her number pulled up as well, finger hovering over the green button to call. “We’ll need eyes in every possible place, including checking to see if this was on Leo’s way to or from the pizza place.”

“I now have generated the list of most likely suspects,” Donnie added, pulling up a screen that had a numbered list of the names of their many yokai nemeses. At the top of the list were the various yokai that constantly fought with them on the regular, and the list continued down until it ended with a Warren Stone, although Donnie must have added him just to be safe; in reality, Mikey barely remembered the guy. “It looks like the first name my algorithm came up with is those mutant crabmen we came across recently- apparently they sometimes linger in this area.”

Raph nodded, pulling his phone away from his tympanum and giving them a thumbs up. “April’s in,” he confirmed. The way he said it was heavy; the air shifted, and the panic is forced down until Mikey only has to concentrate on being efficient and focused. “Now, Mad Dogs; let’s move.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The floor framed between Leo’s hands was swimming; sweat dripped down and splattered onto the negative space that the floor was made up of, and he was dimly aware that his arms shook under the pressure of holding himself up. Get up, he told himself. Get up, you have to do something. Anything. Just get up, Leonardo.

“Get up,” Draxum echoed his sentiment, voice expectant.

The repeat was like a slap to the face; Leo could only lift his chin to stare at him, a bitter laugh being swallowed before it escaped his lips. Sure, he knew he needed to do that, but it seemed a bit ridiculous for the guy with the metaphorical big red button to ask him to as well. He had a concussion and had just been fried; what did Draxum expect him to do-

The collar let out a shrill buzzer sound, and Leo only had a split second to think what? before the collar lit up for a third time. His arms gave out and he hit the ground hard, and even though he knew what would happen if he screamed, he couldn’t help but do so anyways. The result was exactly as expected. His mouth felt dry.

“Don’t you think the shock’s intensity is too high, Boss?” one of the gargoyles asked from above him. Leo couldn’t see which one; stars danced in front of his hazy vision. “He looks kinda dead after just four zaps.”

“Yeah. And it’s probably going to take a lot of these shocks for it to sink in,” the other agreed. “He keeps making it worse.”

Draxum scoffed, and Leo flinched slightly at the sound, hands weakly rising to shield his head from any more attacks. “Well. I just set it to what he should be strong enough to take. It’s his own fault for being weak. He’s lucky; I don’t have the advanced setting on yet.”

Leo felt Draxum’s nails dig into his bicep as the yokai reached down and hauled him up to his feet, Leo swaying as he tried to lean away from the yokai. “Stay still,” Draxum ordered, and Leo bit down hard enough on his inner cheek he tasted copper, barely accomplishing the feat.

Draxum circled him, hands clasped behind his back. Leo’s head felt foggy, and he didn’t even bother watching Draxum; his head kept drooping forwards, like when he was watching Donnie’s favorite Jupiter Jim movie without Raph around to liven things up. Everything hurt so badly. His hands wrapped around himself and Leo shrunk a bit under Draxum’s assessment.

“You’re slower to catch on than I would have thought,” Draxum said after a moment. “But let me spell it out now, just for the sake of ‘fairness,’” he added with his fingers punctuating the last word with air quotes. “The collar has three things that you will be shocked for. Any vocalizations, or any failure to follow my exact orders as well as… well. I could always just order it to go off.” Leo flinched, his fists tightening. Was Draxum enjoying this? April had taught them the meaning of the word sadistic at one point, after their first prank day on her where no one had told her it was coming. And that was the only word Leo could think of at the moment when he glanced up and into Draxum’s eyes.

This was sadistic.

“It was quite the impressive invention, really,” he continued. “Somehow a simple shock collar had a complicated A.I. that understood the situation at hand enough to correct situational humor. Not to mention it didn’t even need to feel the vocal chords vibrating; it could be programmed to listen for a certain individual’s voice and go off regardless of if it was being worn or not. A bit overkill, if you ask me, but who am I to judge?” A smug smile crossed his lips. “Your brother must have felt quite strongly about this to have put so much work into fixing your flaws.”

He didn’t know anything, Leo told himself. Donnie was just like that, he had made his dorky and kind of insensitive gifts for everyone, he hadn’t been trying to single Leo out or anything. Of course not. Even if Mikey and Raph’s inventions hadn’t caused them any harm at all when they used them, just tried to prematurely stop them from doing it. Even if Leo and Donnie were the main two that squabbled, he never would have… Leo shook his head, one hand slowly rising to press against his forehead.

He couldn’t think like this, he needed to bounce his ideas off of someone for it to be useful. Had Dad ever taught him what to do in a situation like this? A quick scan through memories of Splinter handing him his first pair of swords, of noodle fights and throwing stars, and the only thing Leo could come up with was the advice “stay with your brothers. You will protect all of them, and they in turn will all protect you. And if you get separated, stay in one spot until we can find you.”

Yeah, great, but that advice had been from when Leo was seven. When Splinter had first let them wander a bit farther into the sewers to explore with just the four of them. This wasn’t getting lost in the sewers, this was- this was something more. He was starting to have to face the knowledge that this was something serious, even.

“Pay attention when I am speaking!” Draxum suddenly snapped, and Leo went rigid when the collar let out a low, almost inaudible chirp, his eyes darting down to where he could see the blue rim of the machine before back up to Draxum. The collar didn’t otherwise react, though, but Leo kept still, wondering when the proverbial shoe would drop. “How will I teach you anything if you keep zoning out?”

“It miiiiiight be the concussion,” Muninn offered, one hand on his chin. “We’ve seen a few guys get hit before, Boss, and they also had that spacey look to them.”

Draxum threw up his hands. “Well, he should learn to deal with that. Injuries are something to be powered through.” The yokai took a deep breath, and the two gargoyles dipped as his shoulders slowly became less tense. “But. Very well. Before I forget, a few rules,” he said, voice suddenly back to the flavor of ‘calm with an undertone of smugness.’ AKA the most punchable tone of voice Leo had ever heard. “No trying to escape from me.” The collar let out a soft beep and Leo winced. “No trying to take the collar off.” Another wince. “And, other than attacking, absolutely no contact with any other turtles.” What? That wasn’t- he couldn’t just do that. Leo opened his mouth, keen to argue, but Draxum just raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and waiting.

On second thought, Leo had nothing to say. His hands curled into tight fists.

“Excellent. And now that I have…” Draxum trailed off, pausing. He fixed Leonardo with a puzzled gaze. He leaned closer to Muninn, holding up one hand to loudly whisper to the gargoyle. “What was this one called, again?”

Muninn blinked, turning and glancing at Huginn, who shrugged back at him. “Uh… ha, wow, Boss, wait, you don’t know?” The gargoyle asked, chuckling nervously. “Didn’t you hand pick him, though?”

Draxum’s eyes widened, slightly flustered. “No! Well, yes. But…” All three villains turned and stared at Leo, who crossed his arms as he stared back at them, lifting his chin slightly in a challenge. This guy had been after them long enough to at least know their nicknames, he thought, somehow still finding it within him to be annoyed.

“Wasn’t it… Larry or… Lawrence?” Huginn weakly offered up, but Draxum rested his chin in one hand, thinking.

“No, it wasn’t that. What was it again…” Draxum trailed off, frowning.

Muninn suddenly perked up. “Hey, wait, why don't we ask him? Hey, turtle! What’s your name?” he yelled, and Leo felt one of his eyes twitch. He glanced down at his shock collar, and both gargoyles made little ‘oooooh’ sounds of understanding.

“That’s right, it was Green!” Draxum suddenly said, hitting his fist into the palm of his other hand. He smiled, brushing some of his hair over his shoulder. “I remember now, how silly of me to have forgotten.”

“What? But- but he’s the one wearing blue.” Huginn darted around Leo, pulling at the bandana tails behind his head. It was a light touch, but even just that made Leo sway, his arms having to slightly go forwards as he forced himself to stay standing. He didn’t know if he would be shocked again if he fell, but from the way black dots swam in Leo’s vision, he couldn’t afford to risk it. “I don’t know, Boss, I think his name would be Blue if he’s named after a color.”

“Nonsense, I’m sure of it,” Draxum declared as Leo weakly shooed the gargoyle away from him with one hand. “It was definitely Green. Besides, that’s but a small detail. I could call him whatever I wanted, really. More importantly, we need to decide how to go about making him my ideal warrior before any of the others show up.”

Leo flinched, one hand absently reaching up to rub at the collar. The skin underneath it already felt raw and uncomfortable; he wondered if it was going to leave scars.

He then wondered if he’d ever be able to even see if it had.

“Ooh, why don’t we inject him with some more ooze?” Muninn suggested, clasping both hands together excitedly, wings fluttering as he hopped slightly into the air. “That seems to make everything better! Think of the possibilities: spikes, a tail, and our personal favorite—”

“Fire-breathing!” The two gargoyles sung at the exact same moment.

“A tempting idea, but no,” Draxum said, shaking his head. “Physically speaking, his body is as good as I had hoped for, it’s the rest of it that’s the issue. Respect and obedience should come naturally with the aid of that collar, but as for training techniques…” Draxum circled Leo yet again; was he trying to make him dizzy enough to fall over? “With the level of sheer incompetence that I’ve witnessed, it would take far too long for me to train him myself from scratch. And I don't trust you two to be in charge of it, either…”

“Ouch, Boss,” Muninn said, one hand over his heart. “That really hurts.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Huginn flapped harder, shooting over to Draxum. “We actually know exactly how to do this! I mean, not to flex or anything, but Muninn and I did do our fair share of training in school.”

“Uh,” Muninn stammered, looking lost, but a quick elbow from Huginn and he blinked and also smiled at Draxum. “Yeah, absolutely. So…” he trailed off, shooting his friend a nervous glance.

“What faster way to train someone than to just give them a bunch of experience! You know, the good ole ‘learn as you do’ method!” Huginn finished with a flourish.

“Hmm, you do have a point,” Draxum considered. He stopped walking. “Surprisingly.”

“Why thank you,” Huginn trilled, bowing.

Draxum’s gaze went back onto Leo, who couldn’t help but shrink away, hands nervously reaching up to hold onto the top of his plastron. “And that gives me the perfect idea…”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Draxum!” Raph bellowed, kicking open the door, Mikey and Donnie flanking him on either side. The turtle huffed, glancing around the lab as he searched for his target.

The third name on Donnie’s list had to be it, right? Surely. It had taken them far too long to hunt down the Sando Brothers and force them to tell them anything, and the next yokai they had tried had had similar results. April hadn’t found anything, either, but the pizzas had been paid for so… so…

Ugh! Raph couldn’t put these pieces together right now. He just needed to find his younger brother and save him from whatever mess he had found himself in this time.

There was the sound of slow clapping, and the sheep yokai appeared from around the column of ooze, one gargoyle perched on his right shoulder. “Well, well,” he greeted them, a smile on his face. “It’s quite rare for you turtles to come and seek me out. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Cut the cr—“ Donnie started to say, but Mikey beat him to it, bounding in front of his brothers. Raph almost reached out to pull him back, but he stopped himself; he understood Mikey’s point of view enough that he had also barged in, weapons ready to go.

“Where’s our brother, you creep?” Mikey demanded, his weapon already spinning in his hands.

“Ah,” the yokai replied, blinking at them. The gargoyle snickered softly, and Draxum glanced at it, some message passing between the two of them. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The way he said it- it was casual. Too casual. That was suspicious, right? Raph couldn’t possibly be the only one to think so. “You’re lying,” he snarled. “What did you do with Leo?”

The gargoyle perked up, about to say something, but Draxum covered it with one of his hands. “Really,” he said, sounding exasperated. “Whatever you silly children are accusing me of, I don’t have any involvement. Search my lab, if you must, but I’m in the middle of some very important experiments. I’d really rather not fight today; but I will, if you insist. That is,” and the yokai sneered at them, eyes flashing. “If you have that kind of time to waste. Whatever you’re up to, it sounds very... urgent.”

(Chapter Four –>)

#glitch writes #lfls #rottmnt lfls #like father like son #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #angst #rottmnt fanfic #my writing #yes i remember to update on tumblr sometimes #jazz hands

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masksofmany · 3 years

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Bump in the Night - Writing Prompt

“Set your story during the night shift“ (Acquired from Reedsy’s Writing Prompts

TW // Mention of drugs, anxiety stuff, and other stuff (only briefly mentioned) (Not entirely sure if all these account, but I just did so to make sure. I’m new to this :p) Also, I’m not a very good writer, so I apologize that it’s bad :V

----------------- Kori Anderson, a man around his late 20’s or early 30’s, constantly in a tired state. No one knew why, other than that he worked the night shift at some restaurant as the security guard.

You’d probably think that night shifts are pretty easy, right? Who’d want to break into a restaurant meant for kids? Well, that’s what everyone else thought, but those that work in the industry, specifically previous night guards and the manager, know that the place was more dangerous than it seemed.

No, no one broke in, unless it was the rebellious teenagers that broke in every now and then to prove it wasn’t dangerous or to just chill and smoke whatever they had on hand, but they were always caught and dragged out of the place. But this isn’t what had Kori in a constant tired state.

Ever since he started working at the restaurant, Kori was more paranoid than usual and started suffering from insomnia, struggling to get any rest at all when able to, even with medication. The bumps in the night, the constant fear for one’s life, the stress of being in the dark, it all got to him.

He was already a frail man; a thin body that had no muscles, looking like he starves himself to near death. He doesn’t though. He can’t explain why he’s so thin, but it’s whatever. Not like it’s killing him.

Today’s the day, Kori thought, staring at the restaurant’s front entrance. Today’s the day I quit. The day I finally leave.

Kori had been wanting to leave the night shift for some time now, not able to handle the constant state of fear he had to deal with each time.

Although it did provide something eventful in his bland life, it wasn’t the kind of excitement he was looking for. If it was affecting him negatively, it wasn’t something he wanted.

Taking a deep breath, he walked inside, instantly hearing the loud chattering and squealing of children, smelling the mix of junk food and sweat. Air conditioning must be broken...again.

He walked past the front desk that occupied the main entrance, going to where all the fun was happening, stepping back before he got run over by some kids running around playing tag.

Looking around, it was obviously packed. It’s the middle of summer, meaning school has yet to be in session, so this was bound to happen. Kori feels bad for all the work the janitor’s will have to go through. But that isn’t the main focus right now. All he has to do is find the manager.

He walks around, keeping an eye on his surroundings while looking for the manager, Mx. Richardson. The loud music blaring through the speakers mixing with the constant chattering and screaming, it all gave him a headache. He couldn’t stand it. The more he looked around, the more panic he felt the longer he was in such a crowded area.

Breathe...it’ll be alright, just breathe-

“Mr. Anderson?”

Kori stopped and looked behind him, seeing a person half his size. Their dark hair was under a black hat with the restaurant’s logo on it, dark brown eyes staring at him with confusion and shock. It’s not like Kori to be seen outside during the day, seeing as he’s more of a night owl, and an introvert.

“O-oh, uh...Mx. Richardson…” Kori stuttered, feeling a little embarrassed. He must’ve walked by them without noticing.

“Is there something you need, Mr. Anderson?” Richardson asked. They quickly noticed his nervous posture, his hands shaking as he fiddled with them.

“Yes, uhh… I wanted to...talk to you..?” He stated, sounding more like a question.

Mx. Richardson nodded and motioned him to follow, which he obliged. They went into the storage room, seeing as it was the closest room to them.

Kori sighed, taking deep breaths, thankful he was now out of the crowded area. He hated going outside during the day, especially in the summer.

Kori took another deep breath before looking at Mx. Richardson, who was closing the door behind them before looking at Kori. “Is everything okay?” They asked softly.

He nodded, taking his time to gain his composure. “Y-yes, I...I just…” He started choking up on his words, his nerves getting to him. Come on, Kori, you practiced this hundreds of times, don’t screw it up now!

“I...quit.” He said slowly.

Mx. Richardson blinked, processing his statement, but understood exactly why he wanted to. They knew what the night shift was like, though not through personal experience, but saw the recordings from the security cameras. They knew this was about to come, but it surprised them that it took him this long to call it quits, seeing everything he went through. They’re surprised he hasn’t gone to therapy yet.

“Is that what you want to do?” Richardson asked, holding their clipboard close to their chest.

Kori nodded, too afraid to talk in case it was to fail him. They took a deep breath, then looked up at Kori, understanding evident in their eyes.

“I understand, but may I suggest a better option?”

Kori tilted his head, confused, before giving them a nod to continue.

“One more night. That’s all I ask. I’ll still provide you your full week’s payment, because I know you’re struggling with money right now. After tonight, you won’t have to come here anymore. I’ll have someone take your place by then, I promise.”

Kori closes his eyes, anxiety starting to build up. He didn’t want to stay there another night, but...the offer was tempting… He was struggling on cash, barely being able to pay for his rent on time and keep food on his table...but was it worth it?

After some thinking, he decided to go with it. It’s just one more night...it should be fine.

“Okay…” he mumbled.

Mx. Richardson smiles and gives his arm a pat. “Thank you. Also, I’ll throw in some free therapy your way. I know you need it.”

Kori gives them a tired smile before making his way home, quickly leaving the place before his panic settles back in again. By the time he makes it home, he collapses onto his couch, groaning into a pillow.

“Just one more night…”, he mumbled. “One more, and I’m free...everything’s fine...everything...is fine…” he reassures himself before falling asleep for the first time in a long while.

-11:47 pm, Thursday 27th.

He arrives at the restaurant, staring at the doors. Instead of dread and fear filling up his senses, he feels...relaxed. More relaxed than usual. Yes, he’s still stressed, but knowing that this was his last night working here helped him calm down. Taking a deep breath, he unlocks the doors and makes his way in, locking the doors shut behind him.

The place is spooky at night, seeing as it’s a large place with many places to hide. Although it’s not exactly the easiest place to break into, it certainly is easy to hide. The security during the day isn’t exactly the greatest. Then again, there are a lot of distractions at that time, so anything can slip out of view.

Taking out his flashlight from his belt on his uniform, he turns it on and makes his way through the building. The security office isn’t too far away, it’s quite literally the place in between the two separate halls that lead straight into the main party area, where the main attraction usually is.

You’re probably asking yourself “what’s the main attraction?” Well, I’ll tell ya. It’s not animatronics! The main attraction, or attractions, are of various people. Sometimes there are animatronics, but they don’t stay at the restaurant. Instead, they’re brought in by people who made them for their turn in entertaining the guests.

The usual entertainers consist of bands, clowns, magicians, and so on. So, in a way, this place is meant for all ages! It just so happens to attract parents who want to just drop their kids off so they could entertain themselves and let them have a break. Mostly.

What ends up actually causing Kori all this stress is that something, or someone, has been making so much ruckus in the building, and he can’t find them at all. It’s been happening for months and it was stressing him out. Thing is, he doesn’t find anything wrong! Nothing’s broken, nothing’s altered, it’s all as it should be, and it’s driving him mad!

When entering his office, he looks around carefully. The monitors are placed on the wall, posters of the common entertainers plastered on the back wall behind where you sit, balloons tied up on the leg of the table where the computer resides, everything as it normally is. Except, however, there’s a cupcake with a note beside it.

Tilting his head, he walks over to the desk after turning the lights and fan on, turning the flashlight off and setting it down on the table. Carefully, he picks up the note and unfolds it, now seeing that it was a letter from Mx. Richardson.

“I hope tonight goes well! Here’s a cupcake to help you feel better. Your favorite! ~R”

Kori smiles and looks at the cupcake. Yep, it was indeed his favorite: a vanilla cupcake with chocolate icing. Call him basic, but you can’t argue it’s a good combo. It even has some edible sprinkles shaped like stars!

He takes a seat and turns on the monitors, leaning back and taking a deep breath. Slowly, he unhooks his water bottle from his belt and takes a drink before setting it on his desk.

Checking the time, he notices he still has five minutes before his shift officially starts. He didn’t realize he left earlier than he intended, he just wanted to get this night done and over with. And before you get your shoes all wet, yes, he does have a job he can go to after this one. Better pay too, surprisingly. It’s a much simpler and safer job than being a night guard.

Although he has five minutes to spare, he decides to not really do anything out of the ordinary. Not like he really wanted to either, he’d rather stay in that room until the clock screams that it’s morning. Although, the only thing “out of the ordinary” he’s doing right now is eating the cupcake. At least starting to, he’s not exactly a fast eater.

A few hours pass by, and everything is running smoothly. No bumps, no jumps, just...quiet. It put Kori a little on edge, as it wasn’t something he was used to, but he was thankful it was running smoothly. That was, until he heard a crash from one of the camera sections.

He jumps up and looks at the monitors, seeing nothing but a blur slip out of view. This is new… He thought. Although he’s not new to people breaking in, this experience was. Usually people breaking in take it slow and quiet, never the brute force way.

Quickly, he scans all the cameras to see where they could be while trying to keep his breathing in check at the same time. It was difficult, but thankfully, this person wasn’t really trying to be very quiet. From the looks of things, it seemed that whoever this person was was making their way to the storage room. Why there out of all places?

After confirming that was indeed their destination, he takes a quick drink of his water and grabs his flashlight, leaving his half-eaten cupcake on the table and makes his way into the main room, scanning the area. He hates how dark the place gets, especially when he’s looking for something. The fact that he can’t just turn the lights makes him more tense.

Looking around, he finally spots the storage room, but sees that it hasn’t been opened or fiddled with. Narrowing his eyes, he decides he should go check the location the person broke into to see the damage, but stops when hearing movement behind him. He turns around, shining his light in the direction, only to see nothing.

Panic started to set in, but he knew he had to keep himself calm and quiet. If he were to yell out, it could startle them, and he doesn’t know how they’d react when startled. Would they run away? Would they retaliate and try to hit him? He didn’t know, and he didn’t feel like taking the risk.

Turn after turn, bump after bump, Kori was spinning in circles. He felt surrounded, but he knew there was only one person causing this movement. It felt crazy to him how fast they were moving, he didn’t know how to react. His breath started to pick up, struggling to keep it at a slow pace. He felt nauseous, like he was going to faint, but just before he was able to turn around behind him after hearing another sound, he was pushed to the ground, causing him to scream out, dropping his flashlight.

He tried getting up, but there was a weight on his back, preventing him from doing so. He wiggled and thrashed, struggling to get out of their grasp, but to no success. He stopped when feeling a firm hand press against the back of his head, feeling the pressure lean forward as the figure leans down to speak into his ear in a low, deep voice.

“Don’t. Move.”

Kori freezes in place, holding his breath. He didn’t know what else he could do other than comply. He couldn’t break out of their hold, and he definitely couldn’t fight back. He’s as thin as a twig! No way he could get out of this one. He also couldn’t just run away either, thanks to his stamina not being the greatest.

He waited what felt like hours, nothing but the sound of heavy breathing coming from the both of them. From what Kori could tell, this person was strong, he could feel their hand flex every now and again, keeping his head on the ground so he couldn’t move his head to look. Not like he’d be able to anyways, it’s really dark, the only light coming from the flashlight that rolled out of reach when dropped.

Suddenly, he feels something sharp poke his neck, causing him to jump. Am I being drugged?

Before he could say or do anything, he felt his entire body go numb in an instant, exhaustion taking hold. Must be one hell of a drug.

The weight on his back slowly got up and moved to the side, snatching the keys off Kori’s belt and going to the storage room. Kori was barely able to keep hold of consciousness, struggling to push himself off the ground. Slowly, he crawled to his flashlight, going to reach for it until he saw it get kicked away from reach, it being the same person from before. He went to look up, but felt a sharp pain as the figure gripped his hair tightly and dragged him up, moving to look him in the eye.

Having one eye closed due to pain, he struggled to look at the figure in front of him, now able to see their face. They had fierce, sharp eyes, a mask tightly covering their nose and mouth that went all the way around half their face, a mixture of light and dark hair swept to the side in a clean cut, a small wave-like texture being provided. A low, deep voice, presumably sound male, but Kori didn’t want to judge, spoke in a slow and somewhat mocking manner, their eyes crinkling as if they were smiling- no, smirking.

“See you next time, Anders.” Before dropping him to the ground, making Kori unconscious.

-8:29 am, Friday 28th.

Kori groaned, slowly regaining consciousness. His whole body felt sore, a headache taking over his head. When he woke up, he saw Mx. Richardson looking relieved, as well as another person standing behind them, someone he doesn’t recognize.

“Thank goodness you’re okay!” Richardson exclaimed, adjusting Kori in a more comforting manner to lean against the wall. They quickly ordered the new person to get some water, watching them run off before returning with a cup. The manager quickly took it and held it up to Kori’s lips, helping him drink slowly. “What happened? Did someone break in?”

“Andi, let him breathe,” the one standing said. They were wearing some faded out jeans and a white t-shirt, a blue and black hoodie to accompany it. Their hair was pulled back into a tight braid, seemed to be the fishtail kind, it also had various pastel colors mixed into it, providing a unique look.

Kori took a moment, gaining his senses again. His mind felt scattered, confused. Why did they break in? What did they take? What was so important in the storage room?

“There, they...someone…” Kori started, feeling out of breath. Andi helped try to keep him calm, telling him to take his time. “They...took something…” “What did they take?” They ask, tensing up slightly. They hoped it wasn’t something they thought it was…

“I don’t know… They went into the...storage room…” He whispers, motioning towards it.

Andi nodded, moving his face to look at them. “Okay, don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll deal with this. You’re free now, okay? You don’t have to work here. I’ll email your payment tonight, okay? It’s been doubled, no, tripled. Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone what happened, okay? This is between me, you, and Ena.”

Kori nodded, though not completely understanding why. It was probably something only Andi was supposed to know, and now since himself and Ena, who he assumes is going to be the new night guard, are aware something was stolen, they don’t want theories spreading around and potentially closing the business. He didn’t know if it really was that bad, but he doesn’t want to risk it.

After helping him calm down, Andi asked Ena to help Kori get his stuff and send him home. While they were off doing that, Andi went into the storage room and took a look around. It was a mess, like someone was in a hurry, or looking for something hidden. When they found that a specific secret compartment was forcibly open, Andi froze. Their fear becoming a reality.

They stole the business hard drive.

3077 words

#writing prompt #story #improvised story #original character #original characters #oc story #night guard #criiimes #short story #one shot #Mask's Writing Prompts

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jq37 · 4 years

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The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 12

Fig And Ayda Sitting in a Spiky Infernal Nightmare Tree

Welcome back to Fantasy High, where Brennan and Emily are giving the gays everything they want but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. For now, the Bad Kids have just arrived in Arborly which is this ancient, twisty, mysterious forest town with buildings kind of built into the trees in such a way that makes it hard to tell it’s a town at first glance. Anyway, they get to Hollyhill--the family home of Fig’s gnome business-friend--Grover Tillythatch--which is basically this very dope hollowed out tree. At the edge of the forest (maybe a 30 min walk away), there is a place where the trees grow and twist together into an 80 foot high wall, barbed with razor sharp briars and super ominous looking. Très Sleeping Beauty.

They unlock the gate but then realize they have to do something with the Hangvan. Gorgug thinks there’s a way to, with his Artificer skills, give the Van the availability to shrink, but that’ll be a whole project for later. What we have to deal with now though is the fact that Gilear is caught up in the wheel well of the Van, apple stuck in his mouth like a roast pig. Through a series of insane and very Gilear events (not a teleportation mishap like I initially thought), he ended up stuck there and has been since they woke up. He fully missed Hilariel and this is the first anyone noticed he was missing.The kids help Gilear out and give him a little makeover, courtesy of Adaine’s jacket--very needed because he 100% pissed his pants while jammed up (and way too soon after getting stuck).

Kristen knows that the temple she read about is extremely close to where they are. Adaine does a quick Locate Creature and can tell the elf from her Scry isn’t within the 1000 foot range. Plus, the forest they’re in just looks different.

Anyway, once they’re in Ragh starts grabbing food. Sandra-Lynn gives Gilear a massage because that dude needs some TLC. Tracker is sticking with Kristen and in a weird headspace over the Galakaya info. And, turns out Ayda didn’t just stay in Leviathan. She teleported with them to see them off so she’s around too. The gang does a little investigation of the house where Riz finds out Grover is abusing his company expense account and Adaine pings a crazy amount of infernal energy from the spooky briar wall. Adaine also senses a strong but old (300 year-ish) aura of druidic magic in Arborly--from the reclamation efforts that took Arborly back from being behind the wall that separates Sylvere from the outside. It’s really the only progress that’s been made and it seems like it took a lot out of whoever did it. One more thing: There is a real gnomish energy around town (similar to the vibe at Gorgug’s place), even though Arborly is supposed to be very wood elf heavy.

Throughout all I’ve been describing, there have been rumblings of maybe throwing a party and Fig invites Ayda who enthusiastically accepts. The adults go to bed in the Van for safety (Sandra-Lynn puts the Hangman in charge while they’re gone) and the teens do what teens do when they have no adult supervision: They wild out. But not in a Golden Gardens “Let’s get tattoos and do drugs” kinda way. In a real, teenager kind of way. In an “I’m making crab nachos because my parents never let me,” kind of way. But that “they” doesn’t include Fig because she is doing the other thing teens do when they have no adult supervision: Sneaking out. Specifically to look at the briar wall. She can hear these faint whispers coming from the wall and Emily manages to get jump scared in a D&D game by Ayda who is suddenly standing next to Fig, having followed her because the party got overwhelming.

They have a talk which I can and will describe but that needs to be seen in full to really appreciate the intimacy and tenderness but also fumbling awkwardness that’s happening. So while the rest of the Bad Kids are drinking and doing crab-stands and pretending to be shrimp (go with it) Fig tells Ayda that she sometimes does stuff like pretend to be other people and indulge in loud nonsense to cover up negative thoughts, like the ones that come from your dad being shoved in a gem and then getting kidnapped. Ayda can’t understand the disguising as a coping mechanism: “If I were you I wouldn’t want to be anyone else because you are very exceptional.” She then offers to give Fig a better look at the wall and, when Fig accepts, she turns them both invisible and flies them to it.

Fig, upon watching Ayda do that very dope thing says that there’s no reason for Ayda to think she’s special when she can do cool stuff like that. Ayda, as we already know, thinks Fig is super dope too, both in abilities and personality. Ayda analyzes the briar wall and finds out mostly stuff we already knew--it keeps people from getting in or out, including through magical means like Dimension Door and it’s keyed to powerful devils. When she reaches for the thorns, they grow out to stab her and she flinches back before they can. When Fig does the same, the thorns don’t grow out. And, when she does a less intense Burning Hands, a charred handprint is left behind and the heat and energy travels somewhere else. The aura the wall is giving out doesn’t seem to bother her as much as it probably would someone else. Ayda finds it very cool, as she’s found everything Fig has done. They dip back into heart to heart mode and Ayda reveals something that we already knew from Brennan on the Discord: Ayda is technically about 150 years old due to her Phoenix cycling and she’s been working on building the Compass Points Library across her lifetimes, aided by notes left to herself by her previous incarnations. Fig asks why she would do that instead of just reinventing herself and Ayda says she doesn’t have a lot of self confidence and doesn’t want to make mistakes. Fig throws up in anticipation of saying something sincere, says she thinks Ayda is perfect the way she is, and then--as she is wont to do--skateboards away (successfully and 80 feet down the briar wall with a 22 acrobatics check).

Ayda flies down, compliments her on the sick trick then asks her to sign a binding contract that says she has info that she will give Fig but Fig can’t make any assumptions based on it or judge her. (The cast at this point is losing their minds and has been for the past couple of minutes.) Fig signs it and then Ayda gives her the information which is as follows: “At any waking moment outside of combat that you and I have been together, if you had tried to kiss me on the mouth, it would have been received favorably.” Fig drafts a contract (as a lawyer I’m using that term extremely loosely) that says that if Ayda makes fun of her, Fig will give her a wet willy. Ayda says that it’s more of a threat than a contract and Fig abruptly kisses her and then skateboards away and hides. Ayda doesn’t really have a good frame of reference for how this is supposed to go and Fig is throwing out all sorts of mixed signals but Fig comes out from hiding and apologizes and says that she’s having trouble being vulnerable since she hasn’t really done this as herself before. Ayda asks if they can go again because she thinks she can do better. Ally and Lou howl and cheer and bless the Union. Murph is clapping. Siobhan and Zac are full gone. Fig says that she only wanted to have a party so Ayda would stay longer. Ayda says she only stayed to hang out with Fig. Ayda says this is the best moment of her current life. Fig says she’s going for best, period--past incarnations included. They make out some more until Ayda has to go. Ayda says she needs to go so she can research the Planeshift spell for Fig (for free!). She doesn’t even care about shrinking down the library. Before she leaves, Ayda pulls out one of her feathers and says that if Fig holds it up and says her name, she’ll hear it and be able to come and help. Fig does the same with one of her ear-cuffs but it’s more of a gesture than an actual magical effect (though the cuff is bloody and mark my words, this is exactly the kind of goof that becomes plot relevant later). Fig comes back to the insanity the house has dissolved to and goes to use the hot tub.

No comment.

They all eventually go outside to sleep on a mattress, by the Van to get the protection of the Hallow spell. It’s a little glossed over but we learn when Fabian gives Riz Bardic Inspiration to remember to sleep outside that he’s taken a level of bard! In the morning (by which I mean afternoon), they all wake up to see Sandra-Lynn and Gilear speaking to, like, 40 wood-elf rangers. They’re mainly talking to an intense lady who seems to have a pretty high rank and this older looking fox. Fig steps up to speak for the group since they’re there on her invite and the elven woman is instantly wary of her horns, plus the Hangman is right there. She clearly doesn’t trust the infernal. With Guidance from Kristen, she gets a 27 Persuasion which tells her this lady (whose name we learn is Mira) will never like her BUT that’s OK because she’s not in charge. The fox actually outranks her.

Fig shakes hands with the fox whose name is Nuathra and who is very charmed. The Bad Kids follow suit with the politeness and Nuathra is won over. He fends off Mira’s suspicions and is so chill that Fig decides (after consulting with Adaine) to just tell him they’re going into the nightmare forest. That gets bows pulled on them and Adaine steps in and identifies herself as the elven Oracle and says that they have to do it for prophecy reasons. The elves start whispering and Nuathra, who believes she is who she says she is, asks if she knows about any other high elves who look like her slinking around. Adaine says that yeah, she does, but she’s not working with them. Kristen tries to cut in and it makes Mira super aggro--seems like she doesn’t like beings that are devil adjacent or humans either. She also makes a dismissive comment aimed at high elves in response to Adaine’s statement about morality being complex.

Nuathra tells her to cool her jets and says that things are kinda tense because for the past few months, a high elven woman (Adaine’s mom) showed up, took a room at the Owl and Harp (a gnomish tavern), and hired a local wood elf drunkard named Killian. She kept to herself mostly but did do some business at the local gnomish Tinkerer’s Hall (possibly for spell components). Two nights ago, another high (extremely gassy) elven woman showed up and then they vanished (figuratively) with Killian.

When Tinkerer’s Hall is mentioned, Gorgug cuts in to get more info on that. Nuathra says that there is a gnomish population in Arborly because the Druid who gave their life to reclaim Arborly (Crafty Rootdrinker) was a gnome so now gnomes kind of have protected status. Nuathra starts tearing up a little and we later find out (via Gorgug’s intuition) that Nuathra was their Awakened animal companion (Awakened means you give a plant or animal average human intelligence and the ability to speak a language). Nuathra asks why they want to go into the forest and Gorgug says it’s because the Nightmare King might be coming back. After being horrified to learn that the NK’s crown wasn’t in magical Fort Knox and instead was just in some dude’s desk, Nuathra says that all the town’s resources are at their disposal. He points out the three obvious places to check out: (1) the tavern, (2) the tinkerer’s hall, and (3) a shrine which is a possible entrance to the forest of the NK (the Shrine of Thorns which is just on the edge of the forest--mostly still in the forest--and dedicated to a mysterious goddess).

Adaine asks about the dude in her vision and realizes quickly it’s not Killian. Then, following a comment Fig makes about honesty being the right move and spurred by their out of character knowledge, start poking at Fig for an answer to what’s different about her today. Riz rolls a 28 Investigate and Fig burns 2 luck points and a guidance to beat it with like a 31. Wild. Then they split up like this:

Gorgug, Ragh, and Fabian (with the Hangman) go to the tinkerer’s hall.

Adaine and Riz go to the tavern.

Kristen, Tracker and Fig go to the shrine (ferried by Sandra-Lynn who wants to then scout around on Baxter).

Gilear makes lunch.

But before they leave, Adaine Scrys on her mom and sees her, Aelwen, and Killian with a gem embedded in his open and bloody chest (clearly a puppet after the ritual that almost claimed RIz) traveling through a forest so twisted it looks like it’s underground. Adaine clocks some curse scarring on her mom and on a 15 arcana check wonders if the curse her mom got broken by Garthy was actually the Crown’s curse or maybe something the Falinel put on it for security (which could mean that the Curse on the crown is actually the goddess’s sanctum mentioned last ep). Almost immediately, Aelwen dispels the Scry and it ends. Adaine on a 25 Insight realizes that Aelwen didn’t actually sense the Scry. It was like someone told her it was happening and then she reacted to that. Adaine thinks Kalina might be around.

On a nat 20 Perception check, Kristen sees Kalina’s eyes in the shadows. Riz--and the rest of the group--can’t see her, but she steps out of the shadows. Kalina starts slinging death threats--at the group and Tracker specifically--and Kristen does her classic Kristen thing of staring down a life or death situation with an insane casualness. Kalina says the only reason the gang is still alive is because they haven’t gotten directly in the way of her and what she wants yet. What does she want? Kristen asks. For them to stay out of the f-ing forest. Kalina vanishes. Kristen immediately loses all bravado and makes her friends dog pile her for comfort which they happily do.

Kristen gives an arguably Inspiring Speech to give everyone 16 temp HP. Riz on a 28 Investigation roll notices that the grass where Kalina was standing isn’t bent. (The background music goes *BWANG* like Brennan planned it). Riz thinks Kalina wasn’t physically there. In fact, she might not have ever been physically there. He remembers that, in the photo, Pok’s sleeve isn’t bent where Kalina is touching him and people who can’t see Kalina don’t see the wrinkled sleeve they way they would if she was just invisible. And she’s not holding a glass in the photo. She’s holding up her hand and pretending she’s holding one. She might not exist physically at all. He thinks that the thing Aelwen and Arianwyn are doing is to give her corporeal form. They also put together than even if Kalina is somehow in their heads, she can’t really by *in* their heads because she keeps asking questions she would know the answers to already if she could read their minds. Kristen wants to chain up Tracker in the Van to keep her safe from Kalina but Tracker puts the kibosh on that with a quickness (revealing things we kinda already knew about their sex life in the process).

Anyway, let’s split up!

Tinkerer’s Hall

The Owlbear group and the Hangman kinda freak out the gnomes who think they’re being mugged or something but Gorgug wins them over with his gnomish last name and cool Solesian gadgets. They find out Killian needed wax to make candles and some basic spell components.

Tavern

The two Bad Kids possibly least equipped to go to the bar go there and try to get access to Adaine’s mom’s room. They pay Arianwyn’s tab (she left abruptly without paying) and bribe the bartender with an amount of money that will for sure get them put on a watchlist, sweating bullets the entire time, but eventually make it up there to the top suite.

The room is blood spattered, full of candle wax and arcane symbols, and there’s an image Adaine knows her mom drew of a robed, skeletal figure, wearing a crown, etched into the wall. Yikes.

Shrine

Sandra-Lynn drops off the girls. Tracker casts a light spell and then has to step out. It’s like a vampire at the doorway of a church thing. Kristen sees a religious symbol on the wall and an ancient depiction of a woman in a dark robe and cape, holding a book and a broomstick, next to a small dwelling, black cat on her shoulder.

Fig sees a charred handprint on the briars in the shrine and recognizes it as her own. She casts Burning Hands on her handprint that’s here for some reason and the fire catches and spreads. Brennan has a lot of fun making fire sound effects. A fiery doorway opens and a woman in armor, with horns and skeletal wings (plus flayed skin under the armor from what they can see--except for her face which is intact and beautiful) walks out and asks for Fig. When Fig identifies herself, the woman says she’s Vraz the Mean from the Nine Hells and Fig has been served. As in legally. As in a subpoena.

Wild.

Detention

Fig for Using up Two Luck Points Pre-Excursion Into a Doom Forest to Conceal a Crush

I adore both Fig generally and Fig in this episode specifically but, truly, what a waste of Luck points at the cusp what possibly could be such a dire moment. And she won’t get those back before a long rest. This storyline is going so slowly. I’ve written (as I’m writing this sentence) 48k words worth of Report Cards and it’s been like what? A week? Less than that? She might not get those back for a while.

Now do I wish she’d made a different decision? Absolutely not. Emily, as always, is ride or die for the roleplay and I both love and respect it.

But I can high-key see this biting her in the ass.

Honor Roll

Kristen for Holding her Own Against Kalina

I think this marks K-girl’s first appearance on the Honor Roll and in my opinion (mine being the only one that matters I guess since I have no oversight and am Czar of this arbitrary award) she really earned it. First that clutch perception nat 20 to spot her and then having to hold the entire conversation by herself with no backup because she was the only one who could see her. I think this was actually a really good time for her to use her wild downplaying attitude and she was able to keep Kalina occupied for long enough for Riz to gather some of the most interesting pieces of info about Kalina yet. Very clutch.

Random Thoughts

For a closer look into character/location descriptions from this episode, you can check out @jamiebluewind‘s posts here and here.

“Has your girl ever not delivered?”/”Yes.”/”Multiple times.”/”I mean, it’s always entertaining when you don’t.”

Lou and Siobhan Re the Hangan: “Can it turn into a Gundam?”/”Is it a transformer?”

Shoutout to Brennan for heading off flying Van shenanigans at the pass. That would have been an Immediate Problem.

“I have never touched my Dad’s butt, nor do I want to.”

Brennan breaking himself during his first Gilear line of the ep. I wonder if he goes into any Gilear sentence knowing where he’s going, or if it’s all freeform improvisational jazz.

I think it’s really interesting that Fig fully loves Gilear but also still calls him Gilear and not Dad. Not deep meta point or anything. I just think it’s an interesting quirk of the character.

Fig fully intending to eat an obvious death mushroom and every other party member at the same time slapping it out of her hands.

I think I’ve mentioned on several occasions that I’m not really a shipper. Which isn’t to say I don’t enjoy romantic relationships in media. It’s just that it’s usually pretty clear which relationship the narrative is setting up so I really don’t get the point in basically campaigning for something that’s clearly going to happen (in which case, just enjoy the progression) or campaigning for something that’s clearly not going to happen and then being disappointed. But I gotta say, this Fig and Ayda has been a ride, I think largely because there was really no way to see this was coming when Ayda was introduced. Like, Tracker for instance was clearly introduced with Kristen in mind, down to being the Moon Cleric to her former Sun Cleric. Not only was Ayda not set up as a romanceable NPC, she very easily could have been skipped as even an option for befriending at all. She didn’t really make herself super available for it and it wasn’t even Fig who struck up a friendship with her initially. It was Adaine. And then Adaine got kidnapped which pushed the two resident Adaine stans together and, what do you know? Sparks (and not just from Ayda’s hair). The organic-ness of the relationship really added something that makes it really interesting and special.

Also, lol that Fig finally found an age appropriate relationship but she’s also technically 150.

“I’m not gonna mend your piss pants.”

For Adaine, the peak of luxury is access to fluffy robes which, mood.

OK, just to explicitly state my current pet theory that I alluded to last week, it seems pretty darn likely that Kalina is the familiar of the Mystery goddess. I said that cats are the most iconic witch’s familiar and, this ep, we saw the goddess depicted with a black cat. Plus, Brennan casually but very specifically noted that Kalina isn’t a big-cat. She’s like the tabaxi version of a house cat. And we learned that Kalina seems to be intangible which takes away one thing that was a little off for me--it seemed more like she was spreading a virus but the fact that she is intangible and just visible to people who are “infected” makes it seem more like she herself is the virus. AND, we were introduced to the concept of an Awakened, Sentient animal companion this episode which would be a great thing to do if you’re setting up the fact that this witch goddess turned her cat into a full sentient being and then a tabaxi and then a virus.

Lol at Tracker giving Sandra-Lynn a Shovel Talk re: Jawbone.

Riz, upon being questioned by Kristen where he got the photo of her for the “Casual” conspiracy wall he’s making: Look, you take pictures you hang them.

I want the Bad Kids to keep the motto of, “Spring Break!” year round. I want them to use it forever. I want them to be in their 30s--well out of school--and run into a deadly situation in the middle of Winter yelling, “I believe in you! Spring Break!” while very, very confused bystanders watch them. That’s really what friendship is about. Confusing the hell out of strangers with your in-jokes.

Between last week of Fantasy High and this week of CritRole, I think a lot of people just learned what the Hallow spell is.

“Just by being here we’re stealing. I’m like Robin Hood.”

Hangman: No rules!/Adaine: Some rules!

Guys I was SO concerned that Fig was gonna pull a Fabian and do something Concerning without any party support. So happy she decided to just get her kisses in instead. And then at the end of the ep when the two most chaotic party members were given a hell door that it 1000% seemed like they were gonna jump through but were ust handed legal paperwork instead.

Figs comment about one of the best parts of friendship being getting to be a “chorus of nonsense” together without regard for what’s being said is so real.

I love the D&D gag of the party members who are not at an intense moment interjecting with whatever nonsense they’re doing.

Everyone holding their collective breaths and then breaking as Emily succumbs to the urge to Touch a Thing. “You simply must.”

Ayda thinks “Choke on grapes, bitch,” is an excellent threat, and I agree.

Who cares for Ayda when she’s a newborn? Or is she reborn old enough to take care of herself? Also, update: Aguefort even worse dad than initially thought.

Fig skateboarding away and dropping invisibility so Ayda can see and then later kissing her and Ayda going full visible are such cinematic moments. Well, the second one is at least. The first is just extremely funny.

“I’m not gonna kiss the shrimp, Kristen. It’s dead, and we killed it.”

“I desperately and only want you to stay. And the only thing I want to do more than stay is do something for you” Why does Brennan keep dropping these raw ass lines casually in his high school D&D game?

“Can I get a help action from the jets of the hot tub?”

One little moment I loved from this ep was Mira being confused by the concept of a rock star and Adaine translating that she’s a bard/troubadour. I also just love the word troubadour. We shouldn’t have ever stopped using it.

“That makes me nervous. Everything makes me nervous. Sure, why not.” Mood.

Mira also makes a comment about how diverse the group is that did *not* sound like a positive or even neutral statement and, listen, I’m getting Daybreak vibes my dudes.

Very funny every time we’re reminded that the reason the Bad Kids are doing this is because it’s a school project.

Interesting character detail that Adaine started off talking about Aelwen and Arianwyn with distancing language but eventually slipped back into just calling them her mom and sister.

A note in case it’s relevant later: Nuathra said that Crafty--his druid companion--was not a fan of cleric stuff, thought it was nonsense, and tried to avoid it at all costs.

Fabian re Nuathra: What did the fox say?

Kristen asks Kalina’s name and she says, “You can call me Kalina,” which is subtly different than, “My name is Kalina,” which is probably just a turn of phrase and not plot relevant but I’ve been reading a lot of Fae stuff recently and a hyper-aware of weasel-out wording right now.

“You good?”/”Now that I’m being pressed into the grass by all my friends? Yes.”

Adaine to Riz’s earlier encounter with Kalina: That was all you? You did all that damage to yourself?

I love Fig’s outrage at Adaine joking that she uses Detect Thoughts. The idea of, “We kill people and break into places and Catfish adult men but we DO NOT Detect Thoughts on each other that is the LINE.”

Kristen giving herself a sexy roleplay promotions from Officer up to Colonel was killing me. That whole thing was such a good bit and Ally and Brennan were on the same page immediately.

Can’t wait to see the demonic (or is that devilish?) legal system so I can tell y’all how accurate it is and use something I learned in law school for once in my life. (Note: I am a lawyer, but you’d be surprised how unhelpful law school is to actually being a lawyer).

Wonder what that subpoena was for. Maybe something involving Gorthalax or the wall? I’m trying to think of what they’d have jurisdiction over. She said the dude she works under is on the Sloth level of hell.

Siobhan mentioned she has good Portent rolls right now which is comforting to hear. Lol, imagine if she had also decided to go full teenager this episode and use them to ferret out Fig’s crush.

I need you to know that, in this same week (all within 48 hours of each other), between CritRole, Naddpod, The Good Place finale, I was really just drowning in content and emotions.

The only crit of the ep is a nat 20 from Kristen.

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #fantasy high live #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 spoilers

59 notes · View notes

dat-fandom-losertown · 4 years

Text

The Drift Between Us

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Chapter 8: The Search

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Hank Anderson x Connor, Gavin x RK900 (Ritch)

Pacific Rim AU

Warnings: Inaccurate/Unfair representation of a therapist (for only 1 paragraph), A physical fight, and I think that’s all?

Word Count: 12,273

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: Hey guys, I normally don’t like putting notes before a fic, but I just wanted to apologize for this update taking literal months, and I wanted to thank anyone who’s still around and is still wanting to read this. On with the long-awaited chapter!

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <> Masterlist <> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

After Ritch hesitantly peeks through Connor’s journal (which turns out to be admittedly helpful, if not surprising because of the specific note that Ritch is more compatible with Gavin despite the fact Ritch had always made sure Connor wasn’t in the area when they started picking at each other, the one exception being during the Alex fiasco) and adds his own information to it, he goes to lunch.

He ends up spending most of his meal time talking with the Jericho Squad (and he doubts he’ll ever not internally cringe whenever they unironically call themselves that) about therapy and what generally makes a good therapist and a bad one. It’s actually quite helpful. Helpful enough, in fact, that after he and Connor take two written evaluations directly after lunch– with the second one having significantly harder and oddly specific questions that he’s sure they both got some wrong– he initiates a relatively unstressful talk with his brother about general types of therapists.

They end up agreeing that they absolutely don’t trust strangers with anything personal, which will make this entire endeavor harder than it probably should be since the therapist will be a stranger. They also surprisingly agree on what type of therapist they think they’d prefer to have, despite their very different personalities. Neither twin mention that this may be because the warm, casual nature of the person they’re both hoping for is nearly the opposite of how Amanda always treated them, but it does vaguely show up in Ritch’s unsettling dreams that night.

The next morning, on his way to breakfast, Ritch almost predictably runs into Gavin. However, instead of immediately getting into another round of gibes, Gavin is so wrapped up in whatever he’s doing that he doesn’t acknowledge Ritch at all. He supposes that even the pilots with shorter tempers have actual work to be done, so the trainee doesn’t question it and moves on. Ritch refuses to believe that the negative emotion he feels because of the lack of attention from Reed is disappointment. Just another thing to shove away and forcibly forget about for the preferably indefinite future.

The strength tests after breakfast definitely help with keeping him distracted from therapists and Gavin and anything else he’s shoved away from his mind so well that he can no longer recall what they are (but he knows they’re there. He can feel them trying to cause him more stress and uncertainty, but all he has to do is pointedly not think about that vague feeling and they can’t bother him). Chloe doesn’t show a reaction or share their results during the strength evaluations, so he doesn’t know if they’re just average or if they scored close enough to what they had before that no input is needed. Yet another thing to add to the “don’t think or worry about it right now” pile.

Thankfully, or unfortunately, depending on the point of view, he forgets about everything in that mental pile except for one thing after he finishes dinner. The therapist search. He and Connor have separate people they’re going to check out, since Marshal Fowler said it would be better for them to not have the same therapist. Both he and Connor readily agreed.

When Ritch arrives at his appointment, the older man only greets him and introduces himself as Dr. Johnson before getting right down to business. That isn’t anything more than a rub in the wrong direction, but when Ritch gives an honest but simple request, “I’d rather not give any personal information before I know you’re right for me,” the man starts assuming possible situations that could be the reason why Ritch is here without letting him properly speak. Again, Ritch doesn’t have a particular problem with this– he certainly won’t be choosing this man– but Mr. Johnson then ignores Ritch when he requests that they get back on topic and instead takes that as a “clue” that he is “getting close” to the “real reason” and starts spewing even more ridiculous bullshit.

(As if he, of all people, would have had any time or desire at all for a romantic relationship growing up, and that he would’ve been be vengeful, of all emotions, if “she” died in what would be considered a freak accident. As if he even knows if he’s interested in women exclusively or at all. It’s not like he’s had the time or desire to experiment with relationships or even the idea of them.)

Ritch ends up so tense with frustration that he gets up and leaves long before the session is supposed to end, ignoring the calls behind him. He will not put up with someone who won’t listen to him, not again. Not if he has any control over it, and Marshal Fowler and Chloe had guaranteed that he does.

After those short 15 minutes, he reluctantly decides to get some outside help, and there’s only one person he can think of that would have both the information he’s looking for and the potential willingness to help– even if it’s only for Connor’s sake.

He’s surprised to see the man he planned on looking for during breakfast. After a beat of hesitation, he figures that the sooner he asks the better, and heads over to a table with only one, familiar figure sitting at it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.”

The ex-pilot doesn’t turn around to face Ritch or sit up from being hunched over his food, and huffs in lieu of a greeting. That isn’t unexpected, though, since it is a well-known fact that Mr. Anderson normally doesn’t get out of bed until lunch is already being served. It would almost make Ritch feel guilty for bothering the exhausted man if he weren’t also concerned about himself and Connor being eaten alive by strangers who claim they want to help.

Mr. Anderson suddenly turns his head towards Ritch, as if just realizing something. “I thought I told you to call me–”

Ritch sees the shock on his face when he registers his blue eyes instead of Connor’s brown ones. He probably should have waited to call out to him until he was seen and couldn’t be mistaken for his twin, but he didn’t want to spook the older man by appearing in front of him without warning. There’s nothing to do about it now, though, so Ritch tries his best to offer what could be an apologetic smile, but could also very well look like an awkward grimace.

He’s not well versed in showing proper emotions yet since he’s only had a day or so of practice. Simon and Josh are trying their best to teach him so he doesn’t look angry at the press if/when he’s announced as a new jaeger pilot, but so far it’s been an uphill battle.

He doesn’t voice any of those thoughts when he addresses Mr. Anderson again. He is not like his twin, who gets nervous and overshares and rambles as a result. He has more self-control.

“I apologize for interrupting your meal, but may I ask you for a favor? Or rather, offer to owe you one in exchange?”

Something curious yet cautious glints in Mr. Anderson’s eyes. “What kind of favors?”

“The kind of equivalent exchange. I may be out of line to ask this, but you do have experience with the therapists and such here, yes?”

“Why the hell do you want to know.” Mr. Anderson snaps and sits up defensively, but it doesn’t bother Ritch. He was expecting this and more to come.

“I would like to know which ones Connor and I should avoid.” Seeing Mr. Anderson’s blatant confusion, Ritch figures Connor hadn’t mentioned these trial meetings to him and explains further. “We started mandatory therapist jumping yesterday and the one I started with was pushy, impatient…” He purses his lips and looks to the side. “I generally try to avoid using words like “unpleasant” when describing people, but that’s the most accurate word I can use for him.” Ritch pauses long enough to look him in the eye. “Of course, if you do trust me enough to tell me these things, then I’ll let you cash in a single favor from me whenever you’d like.”

Mr. Anderson snorts and turns to his food again, trying and failing to not let his surprise show. Is he surprised because Ritch wants his help, even though he can count their interactions on one hand? He can’t imagine it being anything else, especially since he knows of some of their issues from Connor apparently mentioning and/or actually talking about them with the older man. Maybe his twin downplayed their experiences again despite being much more anxious than usual recently?

God, this is way too much thinking for someone who’s been actively trying to not think for the past several weeks, years even.

“Lemme guess, a favor within reason, right?” Mr. Anderson jokes sarcastically after a few moments.

“I am not my brother or your old partner.” Ritch states.

Mr.Anderson looks up at him at that, very still with slightly raised eyebrows, probably asking “Does that mean what I think it does?” silently. Ritch answers the assumed question with a slight upwards tilt of his head, “Yes.”

Ritch has far less of an issue than Connor does with doing things that don’t exactly follow the rules. Not that his brother has any particular issue with breaking the rules, he just doesn’t like to anger people because he seems to have trouble making them not angry anymore. Ritch, on the other hand, usually knows exactly how to placate and bargain with most types of people, and thus he has very little apprehension of doing things against the rules.

Mr. Anderson hesitates for a moment before nodding his head to the chair in front of him, saying, “Go and sit down. Should I wait for Connor before I start or–”

“Wait for me to start what?” Ritch’s shoulders stiffen in surprise, but he quickly relaxes them again. He didn’t hear Connor behind him over the white noise of the food court. ”If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”

Ritch turns to his twin. “Mr. Anderson has agreed to tell us about some of the therapists here so we can narrow our search. Did you have a pleasant experience with yours yesterday evening, Connor?”

He knows Connor catches the silent apology in his tone for ignoring him yesterday when his brother wanted to “compare results”, as he called it. Ritch needed to focus on how to get the tight-lipped Anderson to talk about something he likely would rather not. This is all rather straightforward and easy compared to what Ritch thought he was going to have to do.

Connor answers as he sits down in the chair to the left of Ritch and places a steaming cup near Mr. Anderson’s tray, “I wouldn’t call it pleasant, but I wouldn’t call it unpleasant either. I believe Dr. Amelia Johan would be suitable enough if there were few or no other options. What about yours?”

Ritch feels his expression darken slightly and has to stop himself before he clears it, then he ignores how vulnerable and awkward he feels in order to exaggerate the emotion. According to Josh and Simon, not immediately returning his face back to neutral makes him seem more human, as mildly insulting as it was to insinuate that he wasn’t human for keeping his thoughts more private. It’s one of the things they insisted he work on, though.

“Avoid appointments with Mr. Johnson.” Ritch states plainly, pretending he doesn’t see Connor’s concerned look and body language out of the corner of his eye.

Hank snorts in agreement. “You were right to call that man pushy. Pushy and he never lets the conversation be turned to himself or give you a break for even a second. It’s like talking to a wall that always insists you got mental work to be doin’.” He shakes his head, “I guess it works for some people… From what I heard, the roughest appointment with him is the first one, especially if you don’t work with him, but I wouldn’t know.” he finishes with a shrug.

Connor frowns. “That’s pretty much the opposite of what we’re looking for.”

That visibly grabs Mr. Anderson’s attention. “You’re both wantin’ the same kind of shrink?”

Connor nods with what looks like amusement in his eyes, “It was a surprise to us as well.”

“We’d prefer someone who is kind and more casual rather than always controlling where the conversation goes.” Ritch finishes.

“You’d probably like Alicia Steinfield or Alexander White, then,” the older man informs immediately. “If they even still work here, that is. And avoid Johnson–” he gestures to Ritch “–obviously, and Dustin Payne and Felix Antúnez. They’re pretty strict and prefer to follow the ‘therapy is only about work’ policy. I didn’t like them much, either.”

The ex-pilot takes a slower, almost exaggerated bite of what’s left of his breakfast. Ritch wonders if that’s a normal thing for him and Connor, because his brother, without seemingly realizing it, starts eating his own previously ignored breakfast. Interesting.

“Dr. Steinfield and Dr. White.” Ritch forces himself to nod as he commits the names to memory because that’s apparently a normal, human thing to do according to Markus.

Connor turns to face Ritch. “Do you think we could request to change our schedules so we can meet them this afternoon instead of the ones we had previously?”

“I’m willing to try. After we finish breakfast.” Ritch adds as Connor moves to get up. “I’m sure they’ll at least let us skip anyone with a similar... technique as Dr. Johnson.”

Connor nods, settles back in his seat, and starts shoveling food in his mouth in a way that Amanda would definitely disapprove of. Ritch simply sighs and turns to finish his own food in a more respectable-sized bites. He and Mr. Anderson end up making eye contact for a moment, just long enough for the older man to nod at him, and for him to return it.

Getting this information was much easier than he thought it would have been, indeed.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Once Ritch finishes his own food and leaves with the message that he’ll be going to the training room after requesting a meeting with whoever’s in charge of setting up their appointments, Connor quickly swallows his large bite of food. Speaking with a full mouth isn’t a habit he particularly cares about if other people do it (he’s had to sit through too many meals with too many “important” people who do that to truly care anymore), but he hates doing it to others. Besides, Hank may put up with his weird eating habits (some days, like today, he’ll shovel his food in his mouth because he can’t get enough, and other days he’s barely able to force down several nibbles), but he's pretty positive the ex-pilot draws the line at seeing what he’s chewing.

“Thank you.” Connor says, not hiding any of his sincerity or gratitude.

Hank harrumphs and looks away. “I did that for more selfish reasons than you think, Connor. You don’t need to thank me.”

Connor simply raises an eyebrow. “If I know you as much as I’d like to think I know you, I know that if you didn’t really want to surrender that information, no amount of bribing from Ritch would have gotten you to tell us.” Hank’s head snaps up at that, but Connor pushes on. “And considering that I wasn’t far behind Ritch when coming to the food court, he didn’t have to barter with you very much to get you to agree.”

He doesn’t explicitly say how he’s almost positive that means Hank actually care about people and things, even if he doesn’t realize or want to admit it himself. Hank hates even the mention of himself having any positive emotions for whatever reason. Connor doesn’t understand it, but he hopes to learn at some point in the future when Hank is ready. If he becomes ready.

He almost expects Hank to get grumpy or irritated at him for even insinuating he may secretly be a caring person, but he just sits there and stares at Connor for a few moments. Connor decides against continuing the eye contact, since it usually make things more awkward for Hank when he snaps out of whatever it is that makes him zone out like this occasionally. He turns back to his food. Just as he raises his second bite to his mouth, Hank speaks up with a cautious tone.

“How did you know he offered me something for the information?”

Connor answers easily and nonchalantly, “That’s his tactic for getting something he wants.”

“Huh?”

Connor sets down his fork of food and looks up to study Hank’s confused– and concerned?– face. He figures the full truth of Ritch and Connor having to train themselves to be successful manipulators so they could get nice things while growing up would ruin everything he’s trying to do and be with Hank, will invalidate every single thing Connor has ever done or said to gain the fragile, unsteady trust he’s gotten from him, so he only tells a gross understatement.

“When Ritch wants or needs something from someone he doesn’t know well but trusts enough to not be purposefully difficult or cruel, he offers a favor because he doesn’t know which specific thing that person may want. It’s nice to know that he trusts you enough to not purposefully send him into a situation that will get him hurt in huge trouble.” Connor smiles lightly and takes another bite of food, believing the conversation is over.

“What about you?” Hank’s question pulls him out of his head.

Connor snaps his head up in surprise. “Me? What about me?”

Hank huffs in what sounds like amusement, and the assumption is proven right when Connor catches the slight uplift at the corners of his mouth as he shakes his head.

“How do you get what you want from people?”

Connor only hesitates in his answer because he has a feeling that Hank will not like it.

“I like to do most things on my own without needing to ask for anything because I like the sense of accomplishment, so I usually only needed to pull little tricks when Amanda needed sponsors for something and Ritch and I decided to split up. In those cases...” Connor glances away.

“People like giving things to people and creatures that look innocent, helpless, and fragile, like small children or puppies or kittens. Even on a subconscious level, people like having something to temporarily protect, whether it’s because of the ego boost or just because they’re a nice person and like to help. Even if everyone knows that I am the opposite of fragile and I’m certainly not helpless or childish, I tend to appear so when in uncomfortable situations, so it helped me gain pity points when making the rounds for sponsors.”

“Is that part of why you get anxious if people don’t like you? The sponsorship stuff?” Hank’s winces, like he didn’t mean to say it, probably knowing how quickly this question could make things go wrong, but did anyway.

But Connor doesn’t feel the same suffocating pressure he knows he’d feel if anyone else– even Ritch– had asked this same question. He knows Hank hates people, and that he hates gossip even more. He knows Hank isn’t asking him this to judge him or anything of the sort. If anything, he’s asking out of curiosity that has mixed with the same protectiveness that he showed when he gave him the weighted blanket and the stress ball, that leaked in his voice when he asked how old Connor was that same day.

As much as he has been subtly pushing to get closer to Hank, Connor is only now realizing how safe and calm he feels around him compared to how he feels around the people closer to his age. It’s not logical by any means for someone who is unstable (hopefully only temporarily) to get along with someone who is easy to anger and snap– Ritch has made that beyond clear since the very beginning– but for some reason, it’s working for them. He doesn’t know how or why, but it is, and he’d really rather not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Hey, Connor, you don’t have to–”

“I don’t know.” Connor quickly says, needing to interrupt Hank’s obvious attempt to take back the question.

After a short moment of pondering, though, he sets his elbow on the table and his head in his palm, continuing in a casual tone, “I don’t actually know, I’ve never thought about any of it before.” He huffs a laugh that lacks humor, lowering his hand and turning back to his food. “That’s probably why I have to find a mandatory shrink, huh? To get me to analyze this with this stuff?” He shakes his head. “Ritch is not going to like this one bit, and it’s going to get much worse before it gets any better.”

“Yea.” Hank says with obvious discomfort. It snaps Connor’s attention back on him. “Yea, it probably will be. You uh, you even okay enough for the shit that’s about to pile on ya? Especially 'cause you’re apparently going straight into a jaeger once you’re declared ready for it. Skipping training and all.” he asks with false nonchalance. Connor has no clue why Hank is asking these questions when he usually avoids this kind of thing like the plague, but he answers anyway.

“I know I’ve been a nervous wreck since we first got here, but that’s mainly because Ritch and I have never been anywhere near as busy and overwhelming as this place can be. And it certainly didn’t help that we were trying our best to blend in with the herd and not stand out when we’ve spent the last decade learning how to do the exact opposite. Now that we’re slowly getting used to this place and not having to worry about holding back anymore, we’ll be able to show everyone exactly why we were able to graduate from this program so young.” he finishes confidently, head up and back straight.

Hank just looks at him for a moment. Right as it starts making Connor unsure about his answer and has him coming up with things to distract from his bold statement, Hank nods and starts clearing his area. The ex-pilot makes eye contact with him with a strange, earnest look he doesn’t think he’s seen from the older man before.

“I hope you will, Connor. Show ‘em what ya got.”

Hank turns and leaves, leaving Connor with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

The first thought that comes to mind after his thoughts have slowed down enough is man, I wish I had someone to tell about this. Of course, he’s sure that Simon, Markus, and Josh would listen (not North, though), but they wouldn’t understand why this is a big deal, especially since they still don’t seem to like Hank very much. For that same reason, Connor certainly can’t go to Ritch about this either, even with the fact that Ritch now voluntarily owes Hank a favor. Owing something to someone is different than tolerating them enough to listen to a twin get excited over the tiniest bit of encouragement and support from them.

Connor quickly finishes his meal and cleans up before heading to the training area. If he’s going to prove to everyone that he deserves to stay here even though he and Ritch have lied multiple times on things that definitely should have gotten them thrown out, then he’s going to need a good partner.

Traci is a good choice– and Connor’s first on his list– but she and Ritch get along easier with one another than she does with Connor. He doesn’t know exactly why, but she’s very hesitant around him and the atmosphere between them is awkward more often than not, so that’s probably a no-go. Jeremy could possibly work too, but his combat skill is too far behind for Connor to feel comfortable approaching him with something like offering a partnership. Plus, he doesn’t know much about his personality beyond “quiet” and “reserved”, so that is a bit of an issue. He’ll have to start some conversations with the other people on his list before he can properly narrow down–

“Connor! Hey!”

Unbothered by the interruption, he spins to greet Markus, then waves to Simon, North, and Josh who are close behind him. He pauses to let the four of them catch up before continuing on or saying anything.

“I don’t think we’ve actually talked since the morning after the party. How have you guys been holding up with the training regime?” Connor asks with a smile.

“It’s been hell,” North immediately complains, “and I know we haven’t even started the hard-core stuff yet. We’re just getting into shape and learning basics.”

Markus nods in agreement, “You and Ritch are lucky you get to skip this.”

“Maybe not so lucky…” Simon interjects, “That just means they’ve done all of this at an earlier age.”

Don’t panic, don’t panic. They mean nothing by it, just don’t panic and make things weird, Connor chants to himself as he forces himself to answer aloud calmly with a shrug.

“It wasn’t too bad. We were children with lots of energy when we started doing what you guys are doing now.”

North and Josh nod together. It’s the first time he’s ever seen the two agree on something before. It’s almost frightening.

“Traci started her self-defense and karate lessons when she was young, so it makes sense.”

There’s a silence that Connor would describe as calm or peaceful that lasts for a few moments. He counts it as a win that he has managed to not visibly freak out like he is internally. He messes with his hair for a second to give his hands something to do in the hopes that maybe they’ll stop shaking if he does. Markus must catch the nervous movement for what it is, though.

“You alright, Connor?”

“Yea, I’m fine.” He plans on stopping there, but then he realizes that these four people are probably the best people he can go to for advice on making friends and finding potential partners. “I’m just worried about finding a partner, I guess. As you could probably tell, I normally don’t do too well around people I don’t know well.” Connor chuckles softly, but even he can tell that it’s somewhat off.

“Any chance we could help with that?”

Connor mentally blesses Simon as he says, “If you don’t mind, that would be amazing.”

Josh smiles and comes around to Connor’s other side. “So what do you need help with?”

He barely stops himself from saying everything short of learning the English language.

“How did you guys know you could be compatible with one another? Because Ritch and I are technically compatible, but in reality we aren’t.”

“So the difference between working well with another person and being drift compatible, you mean?” Simon clarifies, and Connor nods graciously. “I guess you wouldn’t have to learn too much about that since you were supposed to pair up with Ritch all along, huh?

When Connor nods once more– again very thankful that Simon is insightful enough to figure this out without having to make Connor struggle to get a proper explanation out– Markus begins the explanation.

“Well, I guess one difference is how well you know a person. Obviously, people who have known each other for longer are naturally going to be more compatible because they can be more in sync, but what we’re learning now in class is that that alone just isn’t enough to become jaeger pilots. Skill and mindset play huge roles in it too.”

“Like the Hallowitts.” North offers. “They get along great and are as close as siblings can realistically be, but they are, by far, the least compatible pair in that room. I’d be surprised if they last another week here.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” North snorts and Markus smiles at Connor’s wording, but he forces himself to pay it no mind. “As much as I’d like to think that everyone has an equal chance here, they just don’t. There’s a reason passing rates of the jaeger training are so low, and even those who pass aren’t guaranteed to become pilots.”

Josh nods, “Exactly. Now, that being said, there are rare cases of two people who have never met being perfectly compatible.”

“I guess the difference is how you mentally click with a person,” Simon jumps in, “Like you and Ritch don’t dislike one another, but you also don’t really get along or understand each other, right? Maybe at one point you did, but not anymore. You guys aren’t drift compatible because your mentalities and coping mechanisms are just too different, even though you both grew up in the exact same circumstances and have complimenting skill sets.”

“So I find someone who understands the crazy things I do in certain situations and why I do it?” Connor asks dubiously.

“And someone that can keep up with you, because damn, Connor, you and Ritch whooped each other’s asses on that first day.”

Connor sighs heavily. He still has the aches from a couple of the worse bruises left over when he touches them, even though there are no more marks, because there hasn’t been any other training or exercises that have given him new bruises and scrapes so he can ignore the old ones. Don’t get him wrong, it’s nice to not have something he needs to actively ignore, but it’s yet another difference from what he grew up with and more proof that he’s in a completely different world now.

Connor sighs again, with this one coming out as more of a groan than a true sigh. Where the ever loving hell is he supposed to find someone who can not only keep up with him in skill and not drag him down constantly, but also understand him and his trauma (if what Dr. Johan was going on about in their meeting yesterday is actually true for him, anyway) enough to know when to leave Connor alone and let him to his thing and when to step in to help.

Ritch is relatively good at doing so, mainly because Connor usually likes being left alone, and Ritch always leaves him alone, but he doesn’t seem to understand Connor at all or care to learn the intricacies of him. He also doesn’t seem interested in letting Connor see any side of him that isn’t practically programmed by Amanda (the level of shock he felt when he saw and heard Ritch actually bantering with none other than Gavin Reed during the “Alex knifing” almost hurt. Why did it take such a publicly known asshole to bring out any kind of personality in Ritch? Why couldn’t Connor after his years of trying?).

If his own brother can’t understand, then how can he expect anyone else to understand when they won’t have a clue of what he’s been through until it’s too late. He already opens old wounds over and over again with god-awful memories whenever he gets into a mood dip, he doesn’t want to scar anyone else who wouldn't even know what to expect, or worse, they think they do know what to expect. Although, how can they when he can barely think about it in his own head without going into panic-and-shutdown mode?

“Hey,” Markus brushes his hand against Connor’s arm, gently bringing him out of his thoughts. He gets too lost in them too often.

He nudges Markus’ hand kindly and says in a tone much more tranquil than he feels, “I’m alright. Just thinking of possible candidates.”

“And?” North smirks. Count on her to try to lighten dark or awkward moods.

“I’ve got pretty much nothing.” Connor chuckles much more genuinely than last time. If it has a tad bit of hysteria mixed in like he feels like it might, then no one reacts to it.

At the four’s light insistence, he agrees to tell them why he believes he won’t match with anyone. He can’t look up from the floor at all. He tries to for half a second, but that makes everything so much worse about this situation, so he stares at his boots. If he tries hard enough, maybe he can forget that trying to explain this exact thing just a few weeks ago is what left him self-bedridden for a couple of days; maybe if he ignores hard enough, he can pretend that he’s talking to himself and there are only his footsteps instead of five sets in total. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he stops so the other four have to stop too if they want to listen. No more footsteps, problem partially solved.

He can’t procrastinate that answer anymore.

“I don’t know if you’ve been told this already, or if it’s just common sense to people, but in the drift, you share every single memory with person you’re pairing with. Certain events get more attention than others, obviously, and there is no known way to control what they both see or for how long. You just live through the other person’s memories as if you’re looking back on your own, and then look back on your own while a presence hovers over your shoulder and someone else’s emotions and reactions to events flow through the drift.” He takes another deep breath; his heart rate is getting too fast and his head is feeling too light.

“And with that being said, I’ve got some real bad memories. Bad enough that Amanda used to try and convince me that they were just vivid nightmares. I think Ritch believes it’s a dream for whatever reason– or maybe he’s still on her side or something?– I don’t know, but it doesn’t work for me. I still can’t talk about it, but thinking like that and trying too hard to bury it is what made me break and sent me in that mood dip a while ago.”

He finally gets the courage to look up at the others and struggles to force his breathing to stay deep and slow. It helps that they only look concerned and surprised, rather than literally any other emotion his head was coming up with– fear and disgust, to name a couple. Although, he doesn’t know if the shock is a reaction to the information about what the drift is like, or to the fact that he’s actually talking instead of running and hiding in his room like he so desperately wants to.

“I don’t want to scare anyone. I can’t live through those memories– not now, anyway– so how can I expect someone else to?” Connor shakes his head, trying to ignore the nausea that’s slowly but steadily growing. “I don’t even know how Ritch is gonna do it. I mean, the only people besides us who really know about this are you guys and–”

Hank.

Hank, who let him sit at his table on Connor’s first day even though he had a reputation of eating anyone who came near him alive, and had nearly done so to Connor at first. Hank, who stepped in and helped make him eat after his mood dip even though they had barely known each other for a couple days at most; who, almost immediately after, lead him back to his bunker (a place no one has been to in a long, long time, supposedly) so he could give him a weighted blanket and stress ball. Hank, whom Connor told he lied on essential paperwork when Hank was giving him a snack from his stash (another unheard of thing) and decided to tell Marshal Fowler to give him and Ritch a second chance instead of to get rid of them. Hank, who, despite saying weeks earlier “You’re still a kid to me”, had asked Connor to call him by his first name and has always treated him like a proper adult even though he is quite literally the youngest person on this base.

Hank, who apparently loves (or at least used to love) dogs and, if the laugh lines and obvious protective instincts are anything to go by, used to be a kind, giving fellow who would laugh and smile easily; who now has to drown his traumas with alcohol and alcohol-induced sleep, not unlike how Connor drowns his own haunting memories with mind-numbing sleep brought by high-grade sleeping oils.

No one makes– has ever made Connor as comfortable as he does, for whatever reason. It’s been years since anyone has been able to break down Hank’s walls like Connor has been doing effortlessly these past few weeks. They both have their issues, but Connor thinks that could help if they were to ever enter the drift together. Hank wouldn’t be scarred by his memories, and Connor doubts the ex-pilot’s memories could affect him any more than his own traumas affect him now. Besides, Connor has a feeling that he won’t be declared ready-for-battle as quickly as Ritch will be, so that’s plenty of time to wear Hank down, right?

It’s not like the ex-pilot needs to do too much to get back into shape, anyway. Years and years of doing something over and over again makes every single technique and maneuver pure muscle memory that can’t truly be forgotten. That mixed with the fact that Connor based a lot of his own combat style on Hank’s and Marshal Fowler’s from when they were still active, they might fight better together than people would think. Plus, and Connor doesn’t think anyone else has noticed this between them averting their eyes from him and the hoodies he normally wears, but Hank is still rather built under that beer gut. He could probably carry Connor across the base if he really wanted to.

Scratch that, he absolutely could if he tried, easily. He almost wants to test that some day. Maybe. Possibly.

“Uhh, Connor? You good?” Josh tentatively

Connor shakes his head in wonder. “Yea, actually. I…”

He pays close attention to himself, how his breathing is back to normal, the nausea and lightheadedness are almost gone, and he only just now realizes that his hands were shaking again because they don’t feel that way anymore. Yea, his heart rate is still a little high, but give it a few minutes and even that’ll be back to normal.

He doesn’t trust this.

“I feel fine. Way calmer than a minute ago.” He adds doubtfully, scrutinizing his own steady hands as if they can give him the answers he wants. “I think I found someone I may be compatible with, but I don’t even know if he’ll want to pair with me to pilot a jaeger. But even that made me feel better.” He looks around at the small group with uncertainty. “I’ve rarely calmed down that fast in my life, and never outside of my own room where I can be left alone to think.”

North steps forward and carefully places a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Seems like you’re the plannin’ type of guy. You always feel better when you have a plan, and hate when you don’t, right?”

Based on everyone’s light laughter and large smiles, he doesn’t hide his amazement and realization well enough. That makes sense, though, because he wasn’t trying very hard in the first place.

“That… That makes a lot of sense. Perfect sense.” Connor smiles.

He gestures forward, signaling that he’s ready to keep moving, and they all do happily. Connor doesn’t really stop thinking about how he could possibly get Hank to at least test their compatibility and get him warmed up to the idea of un-retiring.

He doubts that Marshal Fowler would have a problem with helping him get Hank jaeger-ready if Connor can somehow prove their compatibility and Hank’s willingness to start piloting again. If he would have a problem with it, he doesn’t think Hank would be on the base anymore, let alone still bunking in the jaeger pilots’ hall. Marshal Fowler doesn’t seem to be the type to play favorites and put friends first, but Connor could always be wrong.

As he slowly forms a plan in his head, he slowly becomes more at ease. It’ll take more in-depth thinking and several pages in his notebook, but where before he only had a vague hope, now he has a small chance, and that’s slowly becoming just enough for Connor.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Gavin is getting real tired of all this snooping around. He’s normally the type of guy to fling himself right into the thick of things and deal with the repercussions later; not because he doesn’t care about what kind of trouble he’ll get into later– at least not anymore– but because he doesn’t have enough patience to sit still and do nothing even though he knows there’s bad things going on.

He tried to convince himself over the past couple of days to just do as Luther and Fowler said and not get involved in the “Alex Knife Supplier” case, as he’s been calling it in his head, but nothing has happened to his top suspects at all and he doesn’t want those assholes to get away scot free. It’s one thing to just be an asshole, it’s another to actively endanger the lives of coworkers and allies. Even he knows that.

There’s still 20 minutes left of breakfast and he still hasn’t eaten or even entered the food court because he’s been too busy watching those assholes from afar in the hopes that he can catch anything that can bring up more of a case against them. He’d rather not tussle with them until he knows he can get into their bunker and confiscate whatever the fuck is in there, but right now it’s starting to look like he’ll have to tussle with them if he wants any evidence at all.

“What are you doing, Reed?”

Gavin instinctively spins around and throws a punch right at the man’s throat, but it’s expertly caught by none other than the Ritch Bitch. After a split moment of surprise from having his punch properly caught, rather than blocked or deflected (which other people have trouble doing sometimes), Gavin instantly scowls and rips his fist away from the other’s grip, silently hoping the goody-two-shoes decides against reporting him for assault or something like that.

“Don’t fuckin’ sneak up behind me, asshole,” he sneers, “And it’s none of your god damned business. So fuck off.”

Ritchie raises an unimpressed eyebrow– since when does this dude emote?– then tilts his head at him like a fucking dog. He shifts his gaze to the group Gavin’s been watching for the past hour.

“Isn’t that the group Alex hung around before he was thrown out?” he asks in a weird tone, almost as if he was aiming for interest or teasing and fell flat.

Gavin’s eyebrows rise in surprise for just a moment before settling back into a scowl. He hates how many times this prick has caught him off guard today.

“M’ surprised you even know that. Thought you were too busy bein’ the top of your class to pay attention to what the others were up to.” he turns back to the group, watching them laugh about something Gavin would probably want to punch them over.

Ritch steps closer to him, inviting himself into Gavin’s cover like an asshole, as he explains, “If anything, being the top of my class means I need to pay closer attention to the other trainees, since I’m somewhat a tutor and an example for them. But that’s besides the point, I know someone as impatient and conflict-hungry as you wouldn’t wait in the shadows without a good reason. What are you waiting for, hm?” the asshole taunts. At least he sounds more normal now. Gavin doesn’t know why, but it was really unsettling before.

He huffs irritably, but doesn’t immediately taunt back. He may as well tell a part of it. If Ritch is right about being top of his class, then maybe he’ll have some new input, as much as Gavin hates the thought of needing someone else’s help. A mission completed with someone’s help is better than a mission failed with escaped villains, after all.

“I think they had something to do with how Alex got his knives.”

To his surprise, Ritch just nods in solemn agreement. “What’s stopping you from interrogating them?”

Gavin huffs again, this time in irritation at the situation. “Fowler.”

“Ah. You’re not supposed to get into it, but nothing has happened yet, yes?”

Gavin whips his head around to glare at the human robot. He suddenly can’t be sure that that’s the expression his face actually makes, though, because the annoying asshole just nods like he’s confirming something to himself again.

“Have you tried getting into their bunker to check for clues yourself?”

When Gavin huffs, it comes out less irritable and more incredulous of how stupid this guy can be.

“If I could do that I wouldn’t be fucking bothering with this, now would I?”

The trainee just sighs and says, “Come on,” with a beckoning wave of his hand, then turns around and starts walking away. Gavin doesn’t move.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? And why the fuck should I follow your ugly ass?”

“If you want to be caught and get us in some serious trouble, then sure, keep talking that loudly. Also, I’m almost interested in seeing the asses you’re used to looking at if you think mine is ugly.”

Gavin barks a laugh that has very little amusement. What makes him think he can just start controlling the show out of nowhere like this?

“You? Trouble? Aren’t you supposed to be, like, the golden child of the current gaggle of recruits or something?”

Ritch spins around and looks at Gavin with an obviously forced smug and mischievous smile. “If you honestly believe that, then you’re just like everyone else here and have no clue how wide my skill set actually is.” He turns back around and starts walking again. “Come or don’t come, I don’t care.”

It takes a second for Gavin’s brain to reboot because it’s obvious Ritch is obviously trying something new here and holy mother of god is it making him uncomfortable. This is not the Dicky Ritchy (that name was more than a stretch, never again) he’s been messing with for the past week or so. Once his head does reboot, though, his curiosity of what the hell baby-face is going to do and the irritation that he thinks he can one-up Gavin again wins over standing by the entrance of the food court and watching a bunch of assholes laugh a ways away as if they don’t realize they’re the scum of the earth.

He speed-walks to catch up to Ritch, because it’ll be a cold day in hell when he’s seen running or jogging anywhere that isn’t to a jaeger or a kaiju. Once he makes it to Ritch’s side, the other speaks in a soft tone.

“I don’t actually know where their bunker is, so you need to lead the way, unfortunately.” Gavin groans, but still pulls ahead slightly to lead. “How much time do you think we have until they return to the room, and are there any cameras?”

Everything about this encounter with Ritch is throwing him the hell off– not just how strange the man is being– but he plays along anyway, never one to turn down some scheming.

“The cameras in the pilot’s hall has been broken for months, maybe years. And the fucksticks will be out of the way for at least an hour. They always stay in the food court until they’re kicked out after breakfast is over, then they go to the gym for a while.” It’s why he avoids the gym like the plague in the morning.

“Perfect.” he smiles with that same forced smile as before. Gavin’s had enough.

“Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you’re really startin’ to creep me the fuck out.”

That rips the fake smile right off the robot’s face. Good, that was the main thing bothering him.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

There’s a silent pause, then Gavin’s starts talking partially because he fucking hates silences and partially because he needs to never see that kind of expression on Retch’s (he may actually use that one) face again.

“So if I’m reading this right, you’re doin’ me a favor by apparently getting me into this dorm so I can raid their shit, right?” Ritch nods silently, so he continues, “Good. So I’m just gonna return the favor ahead of time and give you some advice because I hate being indebted to people. Got it, asstown?”

Ritch turns his head to properly look at Gavin, then nods again, slower this time. There’s no smart ass comment to the insult, though, unfortunately.

Gavin immediately launches into a half-taunting half-serious ramble, “Now I’m only gonna say this one time– so you better fuckin’ savor this, ‘cause I don’t do this shit for just anyone– but holy shit you need to stop making faces and using certain tones when you don’t actually want to. Like, you’re known for being a robot. You can’t feel emotions the way the rest of us can, or you just process them or show ‘em differently. That’s your thing, just like my thing’s being a fuckin’ dickwad all the time and Anderson’s is being a depressed drunkard.

“Don’t try to go full human on everyone all of a sudden. Just stay fuckin’ blank if you wanna. Only cowards give in to peer pressure and shit.” Gavin huffs in exasperation. He’s is in a very huffy mood today, apparently. “I don’t like looking at your ugly-ass, baby-faced mug as it is, and it is so much worse when you try to smile or some shit like that when you’re obviously not feelin’ it. It’s fucking unatural is what it is.” He shivers and curls his lip in exaggerated disgust.

Ritch just stares at him for a second, then states in his normal, flat tone, “The only unnatural thing here is how much you smell despite the fact you’ve been standing around and doing nothing for the past couple of days.”

Gavin smiles evilly, secretly thankful that Ritch didn’t try to go down the genuine route and is instead continuing their normal interactions. Of all the nasty names under the sun he could call him, “unobservant” and “stupid” are two he can’t. “Emotionally oblivious” and “ignorant” or “naive”, however, are not off the table.

“No, the unnatural thing here is that you’re a grown ass man and you use fruit-scented lotion.”

Ritch gives him a weird look, but it’s at least genuine, thank god. “I do not use lotion, I simply shower everyday, unlike some people.” He pauses barely long enough to look Gavin up and down before continuing. “It’s not my fault you prefer what is obviously scentless men’s soap when women’s soap smells nicer and is less harsh on skin.” He faces front again.

“Hold on,” Gavin wheezes, “You actually use women’s soap? Like, regularly?”

“What of it? Are you not secure enough in your gender and sexual identity that using a soap with fruity smells that come in colorful bottles is too much for your poor masculine mind to handle? Poor baby.”

Gavin wrinkles his nose. “Hell no. I’m gay as fuck but you still don’t see me using that girly shit. It’s a matter of preference, asshole. And I’m surprised you even know what gender identity even is, since you don’t seem to know much else about real humans.”

Gavin doesn’t realize what he just blatantly admitted to until he’s done speaking. Of course he has to be enough of a dumb ass to officially come out to the one dude who was raised by an old woman. God damn it, he’s probably homophobic. At least it’ll give Gavin a reason to punch him the next time he gets irritated with him.

Either oblivious to Gavin’s internal wariness or somehow reading his mind, Ritch explains in a condescending tone, “Amanda was insistent that we don’t treat people differently just because of how they identify, and one way of doing that was learning proper titles of people who aren’t ‘Male’ and ‘Female’ and other things your small brain would probably get bored with. But good for you for being just a normal ass and not a homophobic one. You’re slightly less likely to get punched now, anyway.”

That… is actually pretty cool, the fact that Ritch apparently has no problem with anyone who isn’t cis-het. It’s a complete plot twist and surprise, but it’s cool to know that the dude would only hate him because he’s him and not because he’s gay. He’s been tired of the homophobic jokes and slurs since the 5th grade, so it’ll be refreshing to have someone that’ll skip right over that genre of insults with him, as refreshing as it can be when they’re ridiculing one another, that is (which can be damn refreshing, if you ask him).

Gavin lets their talk end there as he slows down when they get close to the grease-heads’ bunker. He then silently checks the hall for anyone who could be watching or approaching, and quiets his voice down when he addresses Ritch, keeping a careful ear out for any footsteps or voices. He may be reckless half the time, but he’s not stupid enough to get caught breaking and entering someone’s private dorm.

“Well, asshat, this is it. Work your robot magic and hack us in.”

“It’s actually not hacking of any kind. I would ask if you want to learn how, but I doubt there’s enough room in your skull for a brain larger than a peanut with how huge your ego is.”

An involuntary, offended squawk bursts out of Gavin’s throat, and after a short hesitation where he lets himself be embarrassed before moving on, he smacks Ritch on the arm. “Move over asshole. My ego ain’t that fuckin’ big, asshole, you’re mistaking me for yourself.”

Gavin sees Ritch roll his eyes. “First, look at the keypad, you see the numbers that are more worn down than the others?”

“2, 5, and 7? What about them?” Gavin replies in a more serious tone, suddenly a lot more invested in this than he thought he would be.

“Those are the three numbers that are in the code. Basically, over time, as the same buttons get pushed over and over, the oils and pressure from fingers either wear down the ink of the numbers, or tint the glass over the buttons and give it a tan or brownish look compared to the other clear ones, depending on what kind of keypad it is.”

“Okay then, genius, how do we know the order of the code, ‘cause–”

“I wasn’t done,” Ritch interrupts, “The first button is usually the most worn down since the most oils rub off and degrade it more than the others, but in this case, since there are only three numbers worn down for a four code password, the most worn-down one is the one pressed twice, the next worn down is probably first. And when there are repeat numbers in a code as short as this, they’re rarely one directly after another.”

“So the 2 is repeated, and the 5 is probably before the 7.”

“Yes.”

“What if the twos are actually right next to each other. What if they’re both first and last?”

Ritch actually smirks this time. “I’ll be smart about it and we hope for the best.” Gavin gives him an incredulous look as he continues. “How many tries do we get to do this?”

“Three. If you fuckin’ think you can–”

“Watch and learn.” Ritch interrupts fuckin’ again as he gives his full attention to the keypad.

He tries 5272 first and is denied, then immediately tries 2725 and the door unlocks with a small, green flash of light.

Gavin doesn’t even know how to react. “What the fuck. I thought you said the 5 was first!”

Ritch just nods and opens the door. “ I did, but there are other variables that I don’t feel like going over right now, we don’t have time to waste.” He nods to the door he’s holding open, “You go in and investigate and I’ll stand guard out here. I’ll knock if I think someone is coming so you can get out. Wouldn’t want you to get caught and rat me out to lessen your sentence, or have you get both of us caught in the first place.”

“Ha ha. I’m glad you’re not coming in, anyway. You’d just get in my way, bitch.” He shoves past the trainee, purposely knocking his shoulder into his.

“Close, but no cigar.” Gavin turns and looks at him in confusion. “My name is Ritch with an ‘R’, not a ‘B’. I can understand if you misread it, but mishearing it when you have no documented hearing problems is a different matter altogether.” He sighs dramatically while maintaining his straight face, which is kind of odd to witness, but not the same odd as before. “At least you’re learning, it was closer than ‘Dick’, anyway.” He finishes as he shuts the door.

Gavin flips him off even though he won’t see it, then mumbles, “Fuck off, you prick.”

Gavin quickly looks around the smelly, messy bunker. Time for the fun part.

He knows better than to dig through places aimlessly and move things too much, so he goes to the tiny closets first. It’s crammed with useless stuff, but there’s nothing clearly illegal hiding in there and there doesn’t look like there’s a false back or bottom, so he closes it. The other personal closet is exactly the same– messy, but inconspicuous– so he moves on. He quickly checks under the bed (nothing) and on the top bunk towards the wall (again, nothing) before moving on to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, the first thing that Gavin notices is that the mirror is slightly crooked, which shouldn’t be possible since the medicine cabinet behind it is welded to the wall. He opens it and it’s immediately apparent to Gavin that there is a false back; the cabinet is way thinner and more warped than his and Tina’s are, and all of these things are supposed to be basically identical. The fact that it’s empty only accentuates how wrong it looks because there’s nothing blocking the false back.

He peels it back with ease and behind it is a stack of sheathed knives. Just judging by the handles of these weapons– and the fact that they were (poorly) hidden– they are definitely not pocket knives (the only knives permitted, since they’re mostly used for cutting wires and cables and are smaller, less harmful).

Before he can do anything else about this new discovery, though, he hears the bunker’s door click open and shut again. Gavin’s in the middle of trying to figure out what to do when Ritch barges into the bathroom and grabs his arm.

“Gavin, we need to get out of here!” Ritch hisses and grabs Gavin’s arm right above the wrist and yanks him out of the bathroom.

He tries to yank and twist out of the trainee’s grip, but he isn’t successful. “Give me a second to grab–”

“I don’t care! We need to go. Now!”

Suddenly he’s being shoved further away from the bathroom. He hears the medicine cabinet slam closed, then the trainee tugs Gavin towards the bunker door with more strength than he expected. He tries again to pull his arm out of his grip, but Ritch moves his hand and presses his thumb into the sensitive part of the inside of his elbow. He’s yanked in a direction then hears the bunker door clicks shut behind them along with any possible evidence that he now knows for a fact is in there. He doesn’t even remember the code to the door anymore, all he knows is that the five isn’t first, so he can’t get back in.

He takes a split second to look up and down the hall and sees that it’s completely empty. He could have easily grabbed at least one of those knives. Hell, even using his phone to snap a quick picture of the stack of them with the false back in view would be enough to warrant a search of their dorm– possibly even have them suspended immediately while the investigation starts– and this fucking prick pulled him out for no god damned reason.

Overcome with anger, he blindly kicks out where Ritch’s knee should be. It works. The asshole goes down for only a second before he rolls into a crouched position facing him, his expression angry and hard. He gets up to his feet smoothly, but Gavin isn’t stupid enough to believe that his muscles are actually as relaxed as they seem, they’re combat-ready, and this asshole is three seconds away from getting his fight.

“Gavin, cut it out. We need to go–”

“No! Let me back in you fucking asshole! There’s no one here!” he shouts, spinning with his arms spread out wide, showcasing the nothingness that is in the halls. “You’re just being fucking paranoid. We need those–”

Ritch suddenly punches him in the jaw. Gavin takes two steps back, but quickly rights himself.

“I said. Shut. Up.” Ritch snarls, but his attention is on something behind him, and Gavin uses that to his advantage.

He quickly throws a punch towards Ritch’s collarbone and throat area, but the little devil twists just in time for Gavin to only catch the sensitive part where his shoulder meets his pec.

At least that should bruise real nicely. Get what you deserve, asshat.

He doesn’t get much more time to think about it, though, because there’s suddenly a fist coming straight at his face again, and he ducks. Gavin throws a punch to his gut, but his opponent spins out of the way. He then aims a punch to Ritch’s face, but that gets caught and twisted. He aims a kick at the asshole’s knees before it can get too uncomfortable, and even though Ritch loosens his grip to dodge the attack and he’s able to get his fist free, the trainee doesn’t go down like he wanted.

There’s a moment of hesitation from both of them. It’s only long enough for Gavin to see Ritch scowling and to get himself in the position to effectively whoop some ass. His partner-in-crime-turned-opponent doesn’t take his attention away from him again, and instead uses the moment to study Gavin’s stance. He has no doubt he has the same kind of attentive scowl on his own face right now.

Gavin makes the first move, moving as if he’s going to punch with his right hand when he’s actually planning to go to the left. Disappointingly, Ritch doesn’t fall for it, and catches his arm. Gavin dodges his attempt at tripping him, then aims a blow at the stubborn asshole’s neck. He ends up letting go in order to dodge Gavin’s move, but is back quickly with a punch of his own. He ends up catching and tries to shove Ritch into a more vulnerable position, but he ends up letting go to dodge a kick to his gut.

This guy definitely has more skill than the average trainee, especially for one this new, that’s for sure. Although, that won’t change the fact that he’ll mess up or tire before Gavin will, and he’ll be in a heap of trouble and pain for blowing up the plan.

The only thing that Gavin is able to focus on after that is where the next punch or kick is coming from and where there’s an opening for him to punch or kick back. One one hand, he’s feeling confident because he hasn’t been hit a single time beyond that first jaw punch. He’s been catching, blocking, and dodging all of his kicks and punches. He’s pretty positive that the only injuries he’ll have from this fight are maybe sore hands and some bruises on his arms from the amount of blocking and deflecting he’s doing.

On the other hand, however, Gavin’s really starting to get pissed off because Ritch is taking about as much damage as he is right now, which is none. The damn asshole doesn’t even look tired yet. Not that Gavin’s getting tired– he can keep this pace up for a while longer– but what kind of trainee as new as Ritch is able to keep up with a well-seasoned pilot and brawler? He already knew Ritch was good, but he wasn’t supposed to fucking match Gavin like this in a fight.

Once Gavin accepts that this won’t go anywhere unless he switches things up and stops playing by sparring rules, he lunges forward with most of his weight to punch Ritch in the diaphragm with the hope to knock the wind out of him. It almost works, but Ritch dodges at the last moment and kicks him in the back of the knees as he passes, making Gavin collapse roughly onto his hands and knees. Just before Ritch can pin him down, he shoves himself up into a handstand and his heel narrowly misses the asshat’s jaw as he leans out of the way.

He sees Ritch quickly swoop his leg out to knock his arms out from under him, but Gavin springs up and flips back onto his feet. He spins to face his opponent and aims yet another punch to his face, but it’s caught and isn’t immediately released like before. A hand comes flying towards Gavin’s neck, but he blocks it, grabbing the other’s wrist and twisting his arm down. Ritch suddenly spins himself so his back is facing him, then grabs Gavin’s wrist and yanks him closer. Before he can do anything to prevent it, Ritch shifts his balance and flips him over his shoulder.

Gavin somehow manages to twist himself so he can land in a low crouch and wastes no time in jabbing an elbow back. It doesn’t hit anything, but Ritch does loosen his grip so he get free. Gavin rolls out of the way before he can get kicked down, then grabs Ritch’s ankle as it returns to the floor. He stands, bringing his opponent’s leg up by his shoulder, but instead of toppling over like he expected, Ritch quickly switches his weight to his hands and latches his free leg around Gavin’s middle, and when he lets go of his ankle to shove the menace off, Ritch latches that one around as well. Gavin knows what comes next before it happens, and lets himself be twisted and forced to the floor by Ritch’s weight, allowing him to sit on top of Gavin’s chest.

He lets this happen because he was able to control how he landed, and made sure his feet were planted on the ground just as his back hits the floor. He immediately jerks his entire torso off the ground before Ritch can properly situate himself again, and thus makes him topple over for just a moment. A moment is all Gavin needs, though. He spins onto his stomach and tucks his legs under him at the same time, then rapidly sits up and shoves his head up and back. Ritch dodges the headbutt attempt, and Gavin watches him roll backwards into a standing position as he spins and stands to face him.

In that split moment of stillness where they’re trying to predict each other’s next move, Gavin suddenly realizes that, for the first time in literal years, he’s having genuine fun sparring with someone. It would probably scare him if he weren’t so focused on the surprisingly competent trainee. He doesn’t even have enough room to think about or process why he would or should be scared. God damn Ritch and his god damned surprises at it again, the fucker.

Before Gavin can gather his head long enough to make the first move, Ritch suddenly jumps on him, somehow spinning so his thighs are clamped around his neck and head. He uses his weight to try to topple Gavin over, but Tina tried to do this to him one too many times before, so he knows to go to a wall so he doesn’t immediately go down. He then reaches up to twist and pull Ritch’s knee out to the side with his fingers pressing against the nerve bundle on the inside of it. Judging by the surprised noise Ritch lets out, he wasn’t expecting that, and he starts to slip. He suddenly shoves off the wall, leaving Gavin scrambling to regain his footing while keeping that knee tight in his grasp. Just before Gavin can properly get his balance back, Ritch leans back and slightly to the left, bringing them both down. His plan is faulty, however, because all Gavin has to do is put his hands down and land in a handstand and Ritch’s legs slip past his head, leaving him free to back handspring back onto his feet just as his opponent sweeps his leg where his hands used to be.

Jesus, this is a lot more flipping than Gavin is used to doing. He can’t exactly flip in a jaeger and it’s been years since his gymnastics class.

Feeling that his back is literally to the wall and watching Ritch flip back on his feet, still relatively untouched, he pushes off of it for more momentum, hoping he can take him by surprise or something. Just as Gavin reaches him, the trainee drops on onto his back and twists and curls at the same time. He doesn’t understand why until a boot hits the backs of his ankles hard and forces him down. Just as Ritch pounces to pin him down, Gavin turns onto his back and tucks his legs in. His opponent barely stops himself in time before he springs his legs up, so Ritch doesn’t get launched away like he was hoping. Gavin instead uses that momentum to sloppily flip into a crouch.

He dashes up and nails Ritch in the gut with his shoulder and lifts him off the ground, ready to slam him back down to disorient him. He doesn’t get to because he flips forward out of his grasp. Next thing he knows, there’s an arm in front of his throat and he’s being shoved down and backwards, so he twists so he’ll land on his stomach and breaks his fall. He instantly twists and kicks his leg out to get Ritch on the ground too, but the asshole jumps to his other side. No matter, because now Gavin can wrap both arms just below his knees and he forces the man down hard.

He jumps up to get on top of Ritch, who is already rolling onto his back, but is held back by another set of arms. He immediately lashes out and knocks whoever was holding him back in the head, but it was enough to get his mind out of the fight just enough to understand that they’ve gained an audience at some point. Ritch must not have realized yet, though– or maybe he doesn’t care– because he sets himself into a crouch and Gavin is already shifting his weight to dodge right to avoid getting rammed into–

“GAVIN! RITCH!”

They both instantly freeze and go tense. Ritch’s eyes are wide with alarm and are focused beyond his shoulder. Gavin has a feeling that he and Ritch are thinking the exact same thing.

Oh Shit…

Gavin slowly, cautiously, spins around to face a very angry Marshal Fowler. There are around 15 other people who have apparently been watching the show, if the way Chloe is shooing them away harshly is anything to go by. There’s one burly man who looks like his job is probably moving heavy materials around here who is clutching his bleeding nose.

In an attempt to put off dealing with Fowler for as long as possible– and maybe a little bit because he’s kind of concerned because he didn’t hold back on that headbutt at all– Gavin takes a step towards him.

“Oh. Shit. Your nose isn’t broken, is it–”

“Reed. Stern. My office. Now.” That voice was the worst one. Fowler is usually yelling or “not mad, just disappointed”, but that was the calm angry voice. And to make matters worse, it wasn’t “Gavin” and “Ritch”, it was “Reed” and “Stern”.

Wait, “Stern”? Why does that sound familiar?

Ritch lightly brushes his shoulder, silently urging him to follow the marshal. With one quick glance back to the injured man, who Chloe is now hopefully leading to a nurse, he does. They silently walk side by side and keep close enough to Fowler that he can hear their footsteps following him, but never get closer than five feet, as if they’re afraid he’ll randomly snap and start laying it on them. Who knows, he might. Gavin has never been in a fight that big before.

God damn it, they are so fucked.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <> Masterlist <> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: I want to thank everyone who read this again, and thank you all for being so patient with me. I’ve had this chapter almost done since the middle of January and it’s been killing me to not be able to finish it and have it posted. But it was a crazy few months, then some other crazy stuff happened, then quarantine kind of zapped all of my motivation to do anything.

But anyway, I hope this long chapter was worth the disgustingly long wait. I’m going to really try to get an update out every Monday, but I can promise that you’ll never go longer than a month without an update from now on. Comments (even if they’re just as simple as “nice chapter”) do wonders to motivate me! And I also have oneshot requests open to help motivate me! Here’s a list of ships I’ll write for!

Thank you for reading (and powering through me super long note) and I hope you stay safe and have a wonderful day/night! 💕💖

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bluemoonpunch · 5 years

Note

Regarding spirituality, which stage of conscious awareness has reached each Bangtan member? [anonymous @ bluemoonpunch(.)com]

I thought this was kind of interesting because I haven’t done a reading like this for them in a long time. This is focused purely on the state of their conscious level awareness, which can relate to aspects of the ascension process and their personal integration process, as well as their separation, however, it is more geared towards personal thought process and self-awareness as it relates to the expansion of personal perspective.

Overall, collectively, between the seven of them, there is the 9 of Pentacles which gave me this image of a full basket, like someone just went to the grocery store and filled up a basket and they’re getting ready to check out. They’re not fully out of the store yet, but they have what they need. Their state of mind, their outlooks, are what they need to be right now, their perception of themselves and the world around them are exactly what they need at this current moment. It’s stabilized, it’s grounded, it’s all kind of rooted in and come into bloom as the 9 of Pentacles would suggest, but there is that limited feel to it. Like what blooms will surely wilt, what you have in your basket will surely run out at some point. It’s temporary, as all perspectives, mindsets, and outlooks are, but, again, it’s as it should be right now.

Namjoon — 10 of Cups

This is a massively optimistic outlook, but it’s so massive that it’s like he’s really trying to build it up and maintain it. It feels like he’s trying to paint the picture of the 10 of Cups big enough that it completely blocks out anything else that he may come across or experience. He wants to — I think we all know this — see the bright side of everything, see the potential in everything, and see life in general as this limitless abundance. The 10 of Cups does feel like a dream, it is just Water energy, it’s very internal and emotional, so it does feel like there’s the awareness of this not being “realistic,” as in it’s not something that can be experienced without an effort behind it. The world isn’t just going to suddenly be sunshine in rainbows on its own, there is a conscious level choice to specifically focus on the positive and to find the positive. He’s learning how to do this and, as I mentioned a million years ago in his Elemental Alignment reading, he teaches while he learns, so this is being spread to people that pay attention to what he says and does.

Jin — The Moon

This isn’t that different from what I usually get for him other than that this is very internally focused, or more like it’s externally focused, but from a deeper internal perspective. Usually Jin is kind of looking at everything from above, seeing things and doing things outside of everyone else’s line of sight and from there he operates flawlessly and progresses really smoothly. I kept seeing this as going back and forth between the Sun and the Moon in terms of his perspective. Both are in the sky, both are looking down on everyone and everything else, being observant, but the general energy or mindset from which they look down on everything is very different. In the last like 15 or so readings that I’ve done for BTS, I’ve talked about the integration process and the symbolism of integrating the Sun, or the will of the soul. This is what that is making me think of. The perspective of the Sun is very charged up and will-oriented, very Divine Masculine, while the Moon is more receptive and intuitive, very Divine Feminine.

Jin is looking at things as he always has, but he’s doing so in a way where it feels like he’s finding more meaning in things that he once only looked at superficially. He’s finding significance in people, places, things, experiences that settle with him on a deeper, more emotional level. He’s taking things in more. “Stop to smell the roses,” is a phrase that comes to mind with this. He’s sort of enjoying the moment, living in the moment, rather than fully being wrapped up in what’s coming next, what he has to do, where he has to go, who he has to be.

Yoongi — 4 of Cups

This card actually came out two times for him. The first time I was shuffling for his card a whole heap of them flew out onto my desk and the 4 of Cups was the only one upright and I thought that was the card, but I’m like really annoying and refuse to take cards when they’ve been rude and flung a whole stack all around and made a mess. So, I put it back and shuffled again and the 4 of Cups came out again on its own — much more polite.

This energy feels really weird for Yoongi like it feels… small? Or it feels much more contained than what I’m used to feeling for him, especially considering the last big reading that I did for him in the current state was his External Alignment reading last year which showed his energy to be very strained. Of course, we are just looking at the conscious level perception, so the fact that this feels so small may be because there’s an effort in… shrinking that strain… you know what I mean? Like, the 4 of Cups always hits me in two ways — either someone is trying to meditate and receive something, or someone is being handed something and they’re not aware of it because they’re sleeping, but here it feels more like the 4 of Swords, which is about intentionally allowing yourself to rest and relax, to unwind and drift. With the focus on Water energy here, it feels more intuitive, energetic, spiritual. So, if I were to really force my perspective, it would be like he actually is meditating more, or he’s allowing himself to step back and take a break, or he’s not trying to force himself one way or the other.

With his energy, a lot of the times, he really pushes and pushes and pushes against certain currents that he’s in, like he’s genuinely got a fighting spirit in that sense, but here there is a conscious level attempt to just not do that anymore. He’s trying to honor his Water energy, honor his natural flow, and kind of let his Fire energy relax a bit. Similar to Jin, it’s just this vibe of not leaving the current position, but approaching the current position from a new lens.

Hoseok — 10 of Swords / Kook — 8 of Swords

Hoseok and Kook have the only “negative” cards in the mix and they’re both of the suit of Swords, both dealing with very conscious level mental energy, logical thought. There’s not a lot of stimulation here to the aspect of communication on either side, it’s very personal and very isolated. They’re both kind sitting in the same space, going through the same process, but because of their different levels of progression as well as maturity and experiences, they are definitely going through the motions of this very differently.

Both sides are purging a lot of old mindsets and outlooks, making room for something new. Hoseok, with the 10 of Swords, is like almost aggressively trying to shift himself consciously into a new frame of mind, but it feels like he’s trying to fit his perception emotionally to what he sees through a more objective lens. I was seeing this as him trying to completely eradicate any mentality that does not align with what he experiences externally, as in getting rid of any self-doubt, insecurity, fear, or resentment that doesn’t fit his experience with his life now with all of his success, both personally and with the group. He’s trying to initiate a complete collapse in his PERCIEVED reality in order to completely see things separate from his emotions — very Aquarius of him.

Then Kook is over there pulling some Virgo shit, doing the exact same thing, but he’s doing it piece by piece, which seems tedious and annoying because it’s almost like once he puts down one thing to focus on another, the thing he just put down starts to fester again. I was seeing his card, the 8 of Swords, as this process where the woman, is aware that she is blindfolded and bound — bound to limiting mindsets — and so she actually is proactive and tries to get out of it. However, her way of doing this involves her like feeling the swords around her, touching them to see which one is the sharpest or the cleanest, or the whatever. She’s trying to pick which sword to pull out of the ground and use to cut her own bindings even though she could totally just pick one at random and call it a day.

It’s almost like he doesn’t have the capacity the way Hoseok does to just kind of take everything on at once in terms of internal assessment and clearing, so he has to break things down. He’s doing it as if this is a process of deliberate action, but really this is more like a very slow and tedious process of becoming a bit more self-aware.

The best way to really show the difference here is to look at the images of the 10 of Swords and the 8 of Swords. They share similar compositions with all 10 or 8 swords being presented stood up vertically across the entire image. The only difference is that in the 10 of Swords, the person is laying horizontally on the ground, stabbed and pinned by all ten swords, while in the 8 of Swords, the person is stood up vertically alongside all of the swords, still blending in with them. It’s almost like Kook is trying to compromise or find an easy method to pulling things out — actually, no that’s what it is.

It’s like Kook is trying to pull the swords out while Hoseok is trying to push the swords in. These are two different methods to which people will approach emotional and mental clearing when it is being initiated consciously. They will either try to simply yank out the issue or the block by the root and release its influence over them, or they will try to integrate the mindset, the experience, whatever in order to understand the purpose or the lesson of it, and from there operate with it from a more positive and beneficial perspective.

So, yeah, they’re doing the same thing, but with different methods and the matter of maturity or understanding is coming in as this thing where Hoseok has enough self-awareness to know that he has to reset and heal broken bones, while Kook, a bit more lost in the wind, is trying to just amputate a broken limb.

Jimin — 8 of Pentacles / Taehyung — 7 of Pentacles

Just like Hoseok and Kook, Taehyung and Jimin are in the same boat, but they’re actually doing things in a mirrored or balanced process. This could mean that they are in a state of working together to kind of better themselves or they’ve made similar goals in terms of how they want to see themselves and the world around them and they’ve kind of teamed up in a way to help each other do this. It actually seems kind of straightforward and obvious, but I still can’t figure out exactly how to explain it, so I’ll just try to break it down as finely as possible and hopefully, it will just spell itself out.

So, first off, these are both Pentacles, they’re both Earth energy, very physical, very grounded, very superficial. Compared to everyone else, they are very externally focused and driven, but not in a way where it’s like FIRE energy, action-oriented kind of focus. It’s just a hyper-awareness of the physical form or of the superficial aspect of themselves.

Jimin is there with the 8 of Pentacles. He’s carving his physical form, his superficial presence out. With all of those pentacles, it’s like there’s this sense of trial and error, trying things on, trying on different ways of being in order to see what really fits and what balances between his internalized true self and the external persona that is more for the audience. Then on the other side, you have Taehyung with the 7 of Pentacles, which I was seeing as him having finished his pentacles and already having them on display for people to see as they are, no tampering, no carving, just kind of there.

For anyone that’s read a lot of my BTS readings where Taehyung and Jimin are featured, perhaps you’ve noticed something interesting. Compared to what they usually project, it’s almost like they’ve switched places.

Typically, as I’ve seen it for a long time, Taehyung is one to “carve his personality,” — flashback to his Elemental Alignment readings (part 1 + part 2) with all the masks and the split core — while Jimin was always very on display in his readings, to the point where I had to constantly take stuff out of my notes and out of his readings because it was just too “on display,” he’s almost too open to people. They’ve traded that here in this process and now Jimin is trying to carve his persona, while Taehyung is trying to display himself as he is without any tampering.

Now, with how they operated before with Taehyung having his masks and Jimin being an open and honest beam of light, there was a lot of negative, or just hindering results which caused Jimin to be very receptive to and open for criticism and attack from external influences (hate and shit) while Taehyung was very tightly wound and would only express solid emotion when it was literally too much for him to hold — I said before in a post somewhere that if he’s crying openly and it seems like he’s at a level 4, he’s really at a level 9 in terms of emotional distress. And yes, even tears of joy would be considered distress for him because he would be experiencing an overload nonetheless.

So, they are supporting each other here because they are adopting each other’s methods, but in a way where it balances out their own previous perspectives. When they combine both of those aspects together within themselves as individuals, it becomes open honesty with clear and necessary boundaries, it becomes more healthy in how they understand and express themselves with others.

More Mini-Readings | Celebrity/Idol Readings

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afriendtokilltime · 5 years

Text

Okay, fine. Let’s talk about parasocial relationships.

The term “parasocial” has been making the rounds as a very very smart sounding thing to say. It not only establishes that you know an unusual and complex word, but also that you are too smart to fall for marketing tactics, and that you are much too cool to show enthusiasm for anything!

So, what’s a parasocial relationship? It’s a one-sided relationship with a celebrity or fictional character--the entire relationship takes place in your head. You’re reading this on tumblr, which means you have lots of parasocial relationships. You’re very parasocially popular! Maybe you even have one with me. (Probably not, I stopped posting for a long time, so we probably don’t parasocially know one another at all.)

I first encountered this term being used as an inherently bad thing, something to avoid, as though the term referred to the negative version of itself. What I saw was not people explaining why it can be harmful, but speaking as if we all know it is (the way you’d use “alcoholism”).

I see people carefully watching themselves to make sure they aren’t engaging in a “parasocial relationship,” or referring to a behavior they don’t like as “borderline parasocial relationship behavior.” But, there is no such thing as “relationship behavior” other than closing the psychological distance between yourself and another person. “Parasocial relationship behavior” is doing this, but it’s one-sided. You get closer, and they do not. That’s it. That’s the only thing. Does that mean building a shrine to Kristen Stewart? Does it mean crying with joy at Hbomberguy’s Mermaids/Donkey Kong stream? Does it mean writing a 100k fanfiction about Hermione Granger, Vampire Slayer? Does it mean buying a David Bowie CD? Does it mean begging the show writers to finally make that queerbaity relationship canon? Does it mean killing the president? You decide!

Becoming psychologically closer to people and characters is not inherently unhealthy, whether they know who you are or not. How you treat them and respond to that closeness, and how they choose to cultivate closeness, can of course be unhealthy...but so can reciprocal relationships.

What’s weird to me is that we generally seem to be aware that there are bad and good (healthy and unhealthy) relationships. I have a good relationship with @randomshoes because we support each other, are interested in each others’ success, spend quality time together, and communicate well. If I was to stalk her or kill a president for her, or if she was to abuse my trust and take all my money while falsely assuring me she loved me, our relationship would be somewhat less healthy.

So, what’s so bad about parasocial relationships?

They don’t actually care about you and they are taking your money.

If a marketing team/a celebrity uses these relationships to prey on vulnerable people, that might be an abusive relationship...in the other direction. If I manipulate a friend I know out of her money, I’m the bad guy, right? But if I’m famous, and she’s 16, and I knowingly manipulate her out of her money, then she’s the bad guy, because teenage girls are dumb and they should feel bad for ever liking anything, forming identities, feeling attraction, or basically being uncool and childish in any way.

It is definitely a good idea to remember that transactions are a part of how art is usually consumed, and not to express your affection or deep identification with an art/artist by spending lots of money on tee shirts that depict them. However, even this type of interaction can be encouraged in a healthy, positive way. Patreon seems to really make people mad, but it’s not the worst system for artists who Live in A Society and don’t happen to have any lembas laying around. “I’ll pretend to love you so you can make me a millionaire” seems kinda gross but “I appreciate that your support helps me continue making the art you love” kinda sorta does not.

Some people go too far and commit heinous crimes because they expect their parasocial affections to be reciprocated.

Those crimes would be heinous even in an already reciprocal relationship. (I already mentioned this, but if I committed terrorism for my very real girlfriend who knows exactly who I am, that would probably make me no better or worse than Hinkley.)

You’re an isolated loser and need real friends.

Okay. Anybody pouring all their energy into one relationship is probably not doing life correctly, regardless of how parasocial that relationship is. But this is a point on which I simply do not agree. People engage in these behaviors regardless of how wide their friend circle is. If not with celebrities, then with fictional characters, or even historical or political figures (think more “little father” than “senator” though what you do with that Bernie Sanders picture in your room is between you and God). Oh speaking of God, relationships with religious figures might arguably have some similarities and speak to the same human tendency, but there is of course the difference that Justin Bieber doesn’t know who TF you are, but God does.

Uh, sorry, you didn’t address my point. Forming parasocial relationships stops you developing real relationships.

I actually think it encourages reciprocal socialization. I didn’t have many friends growing up. When I met two other kids who were obsessed with Harry Potter, we bonded over that, making up our own characters (next generation type of BS...still better than the book 7 epilogue), and this formed the basis of a friendship that lasted basically my entire pubescence. These parasocial relationships are generally part of a broader interest, and interests and hobbies help you meet people, break the ice, and uhm...form real relationships.

It’s not just interests, though. I was hardcore into dinosaurs as a kid. Literally every child likes dinosaurs, but that didn’t help me form any new friendships. The other reason I think parasocial relationships lead to better real relationships is...practice. You are engaging in social behaviors, whether or not you’re any good at them, whether or not you succeed. This is what’s required to learn any new skill, but it’s generally discouraged.

You don’t just learn about how to socialize, you also learn about yourself. You develop a sense of identity and learn what you like and dislike by associating yourself with favorite characters.

Children and teens often imitate their behaviors, and though that can be a bit annoying (why yes I do have the Spanish Inquisition sketch memorized but thanks for repeating it to make sure I got it), it also helps them figure out what kind of people they want to be (maybe you want to be funny, so you over time learn that what made Monty Python so funny was surprise, surprise and fear, and you develop comedic timing). Knowing what kind of person you want to be is important.

Right, but it’s selfish. You keep calling it “one sided” which it literally is. There’s no checks on your behavior.

Right. I think that’s good, though? I think it’s good for people to sometimes do selfish things. I think it’s good to cultivate parasocial relationships because they are a way to self-soothe, and get your own needs met, without burdening others. We are social creatures, and we absolutely need relationships, but nobody owes you a relationship. Nobody owes you affection or love. Having a way to cultivate that for yourself is actually incredibly valuable.

It’s worth commenting here that I think my strongest parasocial relationships are probably with characters I’ve made up myself. They are “a part of me” in that they are always there in my life, but unlike some writers, I do not base characters on myself or see them as reflecting specific parts of me. I relate to them in the same way I relate to Harry Potter, except that I was the one who made them up initially, and books I write about them can be published and I can make money off them. (On some theoretical plane of existence.) It’s pretty clear that I am the one doing all the work on both sides of this particular parasocial relationship, but it doesn’t feel super different to me than the fact I very intensely relate to certain characters not made up by me. I don’t conceive myself dating one of them, like I don’t have a Dorothy L. Sayers thing going on, but I don’t really think it would be wrong if I did.

What do you mean not being a burden on others? What about toxic fans putting pressure on creators?

Yeah...that’ll be in the “unhealthy relationship” category. But, okay, I guess where I am ending up here is I do think it’s good to recognize parasocial relationships exist and talk about them, because it reminds you that even if a relationship is not reciprocal, you do have responsibilities. If the other person is real, that means they are only human, and even if you have no choice but to stan, you should give them some breathing space. The Shinji Ikari ContraPoints in my head can be my super close friend, but if I expect the real Natalie Wynn to give me any more energy than she already does to her entire audience by making the awesome videos I enjoy so much, I’d be really rude, demanding, and honestly not worthy of her friendship if it was “real.”

Parasocial relationships are relationships which means, just like with reciprocal ones, you have to not be a dick. You have to respect the other person and recognize they are a human being separate from you. Even with characters, Harry Potter can’t be hurt by anything weird and demanding you do, but Rowling could, and so could other HP fans, so respect is still important. If it’s not already clear, I strongly disagree with people who suggest fanfiction is disrespectful, so.

If you understand that your relationship is abstracted, and that you do not deserve any kind of reward for all the energy and love that you pour into it...then enjoy your parasocial relationship, because it is absolutely normative, human, and can bring great joy and meaning into your life. In fact, almost all of what I just said applies to reciprocal relationships, too.

#parasocial relationships #fandom #fanfiction #relationships #I have some more thoughts probably but here are these ones

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j4gm · 5 years

Text

Ted Anderson’s Adventure Time Season 11 AMA.

So Ted Anderson, writer of Adventure Time Season 11, unexpectedly hopped onto the Adventure Time Discord yesterday for an impromptu AMA. He talked a lot about what his plans were for the rest of Season 11 and beyond, and also talked about his other work including Beginning of the End, My Little Pony, Moth & Whisper, and Orphan Age. Here's most of his answers. I’ve rearranged them to be in a more coherent order.

You can read the full AMA on the r/adventuretime Discord.

Mordo: Before the cancellation, was the stuff with Finn and the humans going to be longer than 2 issues?

Ted: That particular story was always planned to be 2 issues.

The way S11 was going to work is, it would be broken into 3 chunks of 4 issues apiece. The first story was the Empress Marceline 4-issue story. The second chunk would be the 2-issue Humantown story, followed by two single-issue stories. Then there would be one big 4-issue finale story.

Also I should clarify the breakdown of the first arc: Sonny Liew wrote the story, but that was just a summary of events. I wrote the actual script and laid out the events and so forth. I think technically he's credited for Plot and I'm credited for Script?

The first single-issue story was already sort of revealed—that's the one about Jake and Jermaine. The second one would have been about Finn deciding he wants to make something, and going on a big adventure to make a new, handmade sword. And the 4-issue finale would have followed off of the Humantown story and wrapped up more of that.

I was actually already starting issue 8 before I heard it was canceled. Issue 7 is done, but unfortunately it can't see the light of day. It's the property of BOOM and Cartoon Network, not me.

[Issue #7] was a very standalone kind of issue: Jermaine is a successful painter and gets invited to a big fancy party, and Jake invites himself along. Jake ostensibly came to invite Jermaine to the family reunion [in the finale arc], but he knows that Jermaine doesn't like to travel. So he actually came to do a big mystery adventure. One of Jermaine's paintings gets stolen, so the two of them investigate to find out the truth. In the end it's revealed that the whole thing is a big setup by Jake, who wanted to give his brother a fun bonding experience, Mostly I wanted to write some done-in-one stories and get some Jermaine in there, because I like him.

Issue 8 would have been about Finn, who's feeling restless after making the cabin, and deciding he wants to make more stuff, so he decides to make his own sword. He meets various characters traveling around Ooo, checking in with them and talking about what he's doing now. I wanted to focus on Finn feeling adrift now that the biggest adventure of them all has happened, and he's kind of without a purpose.

Boulder/Stert: What would the comic's finale have looked like? What would the end of S11 have looked like had you made it there?

Ted: So thematically, I wanted to get to the idea that Finn was feeling useless as an adventurer. The world was getting more saved, things were getting rebuilt, people don't need a "kid with a sword" any more. But Finn would've realized that it's not about him as a lone adventurer—he's part of a community, a whole bunch of people who are working to make the world a better place.

The finale story would have revealed that Dr. Gross had been offered amnesty and was secretly working in Humantown, plotting a takeover of all of Ooo. Dr. Gross would've created a plague to affect the candy people and something called "GO Juice" [Genetic Optimizer Juice], which was just Finn's DNA injected into the humans to make them into adventurers too. But, crucially, it wouldn't have made them teammates—they would've just been a bunch of lone wolves. So when Jake and Lady and PB and Marceline and all the rest work together, they defeat the humans easily. Rather than fight Dr. Gross, [Finn] escapes and helps his friends, who are fighting everyone else.

There's a little bit of that story still in issue 5: Finn gets a scratch fighting the robot and Minerva patches it up, and that's how they would've gotten his DNA.

I was going to bring back Samantha the dog as a side villain. She would've taken over the Candy Kingdom with a dog army, in order to plunder their technology and lead a dog revolution in the Crystal Dimension, but really she was just being used by Dr. Gross.

Also Jake would've had a family reunion, because I really wanted to write all his kids. Originally it was going to be him and Lady finally getting married. [Cartoon Network] specifically said that Jake and Lady couldn't get married, because they were, and I quote, a "modern couple". I still have no idea exactly what that means, haha.

I had some thoughts about how I wanted to handle the humans. I didn't want them to immediately integrate into Ooo, but I didn't want them to be completely standoffish and weird, either. Issue 12 would've ended with them more or less being led by Minerva, and slowly putting themselves out there.

Something else I should make clear: I had absolutely no contact with the AT people, so I don't know if any of my ideas fit with what they wanted to do. All of this stuff is just out of my head.

Stert: Yeah I feel like you would've been good as long as you didn't straight up contradict the show.

Ted: Oh, speaking of contradicting the show, I got a funny note about the Empress Marceline story. Originally, in Sonny Liew's notes and my script, it actually took place 10,000 years in the future, not 1,000. But for some reason CN changed it to 1000. And I have no idea why, because all that does is mess with the timeline more. Like, if it's 1000 years in the future, it should have Shermy and Beth and look like that setting. But by the time CN changed it, it was too late for me to add in any of that stuff. So if you think it's weird that Shermy and Beth didn't show up, and Marceline wasn't trying to rescue Bubblegum from an ice prison: that's why!

SpaceGiraffe/Owlz: Were there any plans for Simon to meet with the humans and/or Minerva? I wanted to know if you had any plans for Ice King or if that was just Olivia's job?

Ted: Once I heard that Olivia was doing the Simon & Marcy series, I deliberately kept my hands off of Simon, just in case. I didn't quite know what I would want to do with him, either. He could play an interesting role in post-finale Ooo, but ... idk, he's been defined so much by tragedy and loss, it would've taken a while to build him back up again.

Stert: Do you know if Gross and Minerva would have interacted in these new comics?

Ted: I hadn't planned for Gross and Minerva to interact too much? Minerva would've come along with Finn when he infiltrated Humantown to find out what happened. Actually, my idea was that Minerva uses her "Mini-form," which is literally a six-inch-tall action figure of her that would ride on Finn's shoulder as he snuck through the vents, haha.

Stert: The final issue ends on a pretty negative note for Finn and humanity. He's very angry at Malloy lying to him and storms off not wanting to have anything to do with Humantown. Looking back do you think it's a good idea to end Finn's arc in these comics with the humans on a pretty downer note?

Ted: I don't think it's the best way to end S11, no. It makes sense because it's a natural story break, but it also leaves Finn angry and resentful, and deliberately separating himself from other communities. I do love those last two pages, because Mar Julia did some amazing art on them, but emotionally it leaves Finn kind of out in the cold. I did tweak issue 6 a little by adding the HW scene. Originally Finn went to see Aunt Lolly to see if she made the robot monsters. Frankly, the HW scene is better in every way, haha.

Owlz: Did you have ideas for Finn's closure with Huntress?

I like [Finntress]! I like a lot of Finn relationships. But I also like how it's very casual and not labeled. I should be clear: I really didn't change anything based on people's feedback from here. But the [Discord] server and poking around Tumblr reminded me that I needed to include some HW. I feel like their relationship has always been ambiguous, so I liked them not getting a super specific ending.

Boulder: Did you have anything in S11 for Mars?

Ted: I didn't have anything for Mars, actually! I should've! I like Mars a lot, mostly because we see so little of it and it's so dang weird.

Boulder/StephanFS: What plans did you have after S11, with or without a cancellation? If BOOM announced S12 with you as the main writer, what would you write?

Ted: I didn't have anything specific for after S11, since I already knew that it was probably going to be the last time I was going to write AT. I had some vague ideas of trying to bring back Fern, but like ... that's a very fanservice type of thing to do, haha. I probably would've brought him back just to let him die again, but this time with a little more closure. Also I might have done more stuff with magic? I love the weird elements of magic they've got set up in the show. Maybe doing something with four new elements of magic, one of which would have been grass. But that was just very vague thoughts.

Stert: Who did you like writing for most/have the most trouble with? Between Beginning of the End and the S11 issues you mostly handled Finn with a touch of Jake and the rest in smaller amounts, interested in if you were happy with that or wanted to play with other folks.

Ted: Jake was definitely the most fun to write, just because of his way of speaking. Whenever I did a line of his dialogue, I ran it through John DiMaggio's voice first to see if it sounded right. As for favorite in general, that's a tough one. I was told to try and keep the focus on Finn and Jake rather than the side characters, just because they're the main characters. But that suited me just fine. And yeah, for BotE I was also told to keep the focus on Finn and Jake. But that's what I was planning to do anyway. (And yes, I still plan to finish the annotations for BotE! One of these days! Promise!)

Stert: How well did you know the show before you started work on the comics?

Ted: So, total honesty: I loved AT and stuck with it until about season 5. Which, not coincidentally, is when Steven Universe started. I didn't ever stop loving AT, I just fell off the wagon for a while.

Stert: Tale as old as time 🤣

Ted: So once I got the news about BotE, I binged everything from the start. I didn't actually get to see the finale until after I'd started writing S11. CN was being very careful about leaks, so they wouldn't actually let their comics people watch upcoming episodes. But Whitney, my editor, had seen it, so she described it to me over the phone. Very weird experience.

Mordo: What is your view on Come Along With Me?

Ted: I feel like it was as good as it could be, under the circumstances. After hearing about their plans and how they thought they'd have another season, it made more sense. Like, if they'd had a bunch more episodes, they could've set up Gumbald and used the Candy Kingdom Haters some more (remember them???) The finale had a tough job to do: they wanted to give a satisfactory ending to as many of the threads in the series as they could, and yeah, some people didn't get as much as others. Again, I really wish they'd had another season.

Owlz: What do you think of characters like Martin or Ice King?

Ted: I would've LOVED to bring Martin in somehow. He never really got his comeuppance. I don't think I could've put him in S11, but if there had been a S12 or a miniseries or something, that would've been ideal. He's such a ****ty dad, haha. I hate him as a person but love him as a character. I probably would've brought him back by saying, like, "Oh yeah, I hung out with that transcendent being from beyond space, but she got sick of me after a week and dropped me off on an asteroid."

Stert: Were there any characters you were very intimidated to write for, like you thought you would screw them up?

Ted: Oh that's a great question. Honestly, I was a little worried about writing Marceline, because I feel like she's very specifically tied to the experience of being a teenage girl. Which I've never been. Like, the best stuff with Marceline is by Olivia Olson, or Meredith Gran, or Kate Leth, who have written about (and actually been) a teenage girl dealing with Feelings. So getting her right was a challenge.

Owlz: Who’s your favorite AT character?

Ted: Oh man, favorite? That's an impossible question, haha. I have a lot of fondness for Susan Strong. I like her as a kind-of counterpart to Finn, as well as a more driven and adventurous type. She also got to have a really neat arc that ended well, but also left open the door for future adventures. Her design is also great, and her backstory is really cool.

Stert: The stuff you did with her, Billy, and Fern to show off different avenues of heroism and stuff with Finn was very cool.

Ted: Yeah, that was super fun. I think I mentioned this in the annotations: originally it was just going to be Finn meeting a bunch of his alternate versions, like Farmworld Finn. But then I realized, wait, there are characters who are way more interesting than that. (Not to hate on Farmworld Finn! But he's no Susan Strong)

Owlz: What are your thoughts on Betty Grof? The show didn’t reveal much about her.

Ted: Oof. She deserved better. I wanted her to be developed more, frankly. But I sympathize with the creators. I don't think they had the time they needed to flesh her out. I wanted, like, an entire spin-off series about her learning the secrets of magic.

Stert: So to ask another possible impossible question, what's your favorite episode (or multiples)?

Ted: I really do like "Mama Said". It's maybe my favorite one-off episode, just for how surreal it is. Plot-relevant episodes ... I liked the one about Finn building a tower to tear off his dad's arm, haha. I have a real fondness for the wacky one-off episodes, like anything about Jake's kids. The Card Wars tournament episode, or the one about Bronwyn.

Owlz: What if AT got rebooted and you got to be a writer?

Ted: On the one hand, I would've liked creating a more coherent mythology, like exactly how this or that happened. On the other hand, the weird inconsistencies are what make this show so fun.

[While talking about some of the Easter eggs included in Ted’s comics, somebody posted this panel from BotE]

Ted: Part of that panel is actually a quote from Guillermo del Toro. The line about "animated by incredible humanism" is from the introduction he wrote to the Art of Ooo book. I love dropping in weird easter eggs. So when I started writing BotE, I caught up on the entire show, but I also tried to catch up on all the supplementary materials, too. That's why I slipped in that thing about Hunson's nickname of "Johnny Corndog," for example.

Owlz: You should also check out the AT official cookbook. It’s adorable.

Ted: I have! In fact, there's an easter egg from that in there! In issue 6, Minerva mentions something about making Finn her special macaroni and cheese, I think? That's her recipe in the book.

CharlesOberonn: I have a question regarding pacing in comic books. Specifically, how stretched out and slow pacing is in comic books today compared to comic books in the past. A story that would take 1 issue in the 1960s-80s could take 3 or 4 or even 5-8 issues today. What do you say about that?

Ted: Ah, pacing in comics. An old nemesis, haha. I like both the issue format and the book format for comics. You can do very different things with them, just like the difference between movies and TV. If you are writing something with issues, then I feel like every issue needs to give you a complete story, or at least a complete slice of a story. I definitely feel like attitudes have changed regarding how much story you fit into an issue of comics, but that can be both good and bad. A little while ago I reread the original Iron Man story where he confronts his alcoholism, and he goes through withdrawal in literally one page.

Stert: I know this kinda stuff is usually not answered straight up, but how much do you make writing for comics?

Ted: I'm not yet at the point where it's my main job. Right now I'm getting my teaching license so I can be a school librarian. And with licensed comics, I don't get any royalties, just a flat fee for writing the script. But it's a good gig regardless. I get to sit around and tell other people how to draw cartoons. I would absolutely love to write full time, and I'm in the process of getting together more projects to make that happen? But not quite yet. Which reminds me: I am currently trying to put together a pitch with Mar Julia, artist for both BotE and S11! But very different from AT.

Owlz: How long have you worked on comics?

Ted: I've been working on comics for ... something like 6 years? I think? My first professional comic was MLP, actually, which is not at all normal, haha. I was a big fan of the show, and I knew I wanted to write comics. I'm also friends with Zander Cannon, who's been a professional creator for decades and is a super cool guy. He knew someone who worked at IDW, who put me in touch with the MLP editor. I sent them some samples, I sent them some pitches, and bada bing bada boom, they let me write a story about Pinkie Pie. It's all about networking, baby.

Mordo: What’s your favorite TV series of all time?

Ted: Oh jeeze, that's a question. There are TV series that I love in different ways and for different reasons. AT is definitely one of my favorites, but I also love The X-Files, but for completely different reasons. Star Trek the Next Generation is also pretty high up there. Futurama is another one that I'm a big fan of. I should've included a reference to John DiMaggio from that, come to think of it. Showed Jake with a cigar and a beer, or something. Now there's a crossover I'd love to see. Oh, Gravity Falls is definitely up there too. Regular Show is another fun one. I pitched a couple RS ideas around the same time as BotE, but they were already transitioning to the Twenty-Five Years Later series.

Mordo: Not sure if this was answered earlier, but why was AT season 11 the one that had to kick the bucket when it was doing better than the other comics?

Ted: I really have no idea. It was a money thing, to the best of my knowledge—they expected the comics to sell X copies, and they didn't quite make it, so that was that. In the email they sent me, they emphasized that it was not a question of the quality of my writing, or how they were being received. I don't really know any more than that, unfortunately. Yeah, I have no idea how they calculate anticipated sales or anything. But I guess S11 just didn't hit the expected targets.

Mordo/StephanFS: What else do you write Ted? If you were to work on something original, what would it be?

Ted: I still do write for MLP, actually. I've got a three-issue miniseries starting next month. Plus I've got a couple creator-owned series: Moth & Whisper and Orphan Age. The trade collection of M&W comes out next week, and the first issue of Orphan Age came out this week. I have a lot more original stuff in the works, too. Not a lot of it is like AT, to be honest. I don't tend to write stories that are so .... weird? Nothing against weird! Obviously! But it's just not the kind of stories I tend to come up with. M&W is a cyberpunk heist thriller thing, and Orphan Age is a post-apocalyptic western.

That’s all for now. If you like Ted Anderson’s work, be sure to check out Moth & Whisper and Orphan Age. Catch them on ComiXology or wherever you get your comics.

Farewell for now!

#adventure time #adventure time season 11 #at

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necropsittacus · 4 years

Text

fuckoff long post about my skeksis language thoughts below the cut. i ought to do more with this but it’s been sitting in my files for a couple months now and i want to Show People

-i've talked about this hc on here before, but i like it enough to repeat. the existence of names like skekmal and skekvar indicate that they have some means of producing labial consonants with a beak (presumably the skeksis can pronounce their own names. also, while i am very fond of assuming the same "this is translated from what they're actually saying" conceit tolkien uses applies to tdc, it seems unnecessary and overly complicated to assume anything of the sort about *character names,* especially ones that don't sound like real-world names to start with. i am going to assume unless told otherwise that those are their actual in-universe names and not "translated" for human benefit). my favored solution is that they have syrinxes like a parrot’s rather than humanoid vocal apparatus.

-there are separate extant skeksis and gelfling languages. (evidence for this: the skeksis were straight up originally supposed to speak their own language in the movie. "shadows of the dark crystal" has a comment about how well skekso speaks gelfling. also, "shadows of the dark crystal" does some things with speech patterns for the skeksis, which i will get into below and which, with the possible exception of chamberlain and novels!hunter, make most sense to me to treat as second language difficulties--i have a hard time seeing, say, emperor deliberately speaking ""wrongly"")

one might expect that the skeksis, being the way they are, would install their own language as the official or state language. given that "shadows of the dark crystal" specifies that skekso's accent in the Gelfling language is pretty good, in a scene taking place in the castle ("his voice sounded almost cultured, his accent in the gelfling tongue much more perfected than the stilted broken phrases of the Chamberlain" (*shadows of the dark crystal* 202)), i'm assuming that *isn't* the situation, and for whatever reason they're using Gelfling for state business. given the skeksis in general, that sure isn't out of a sense of benevolence.

one option: the skeksis treat their language as a Special In-Group Thing that they don't want to use with or maybe teach to outsiders. it's become essentially a ritual thing (which might in itself warrant an explanation as to how that came about, tbh), or they do use it for casual purposes but only among themselves, something like that.

another option: there's some specific reason the skeksis lang would be impractical as a state language--i think the most likely thing for this is that there's some aspect(s) of the skeksis lang that are just anatomically difficult or impossible for gelflings to produce, perceive, or both (my initial thought was just "they might have sounds a gelfling doesn't have the right anatomy to make," influenced by the syrinx idea, but tbh going with that same idea i think like, crows, have fairly nuanced signals that we might just hear as "caw" across the board, so a species with both that sort of vocal anatomy and their own language could conceivably have nuances of sound difference a different species wouldn't Pick Up On, either?)

and these aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive, either

-name vs title: (this is as much my friend skye's (@deerpunk) idea as mine, so i don't want to take full credit for it) using a skeksis's personal name vs their title is a formality distinction pretty similar to the T-V distinction, except that, due to the skeksis being How They Are, the more positive familiarity/intimacy sense has been lost in most contexts, for most skeksis, and most of what's left is the insult sense. (there are some exceptions to this: skekvar to skeksil, when he's decided he trusts him, maybe skeklach and skekok (although that strikes me as half-jokingly rude friendship, so it could be both tbh), skekmal's death--and that could be a breaking down of formality expectations because the situation is so dire.) because strength, respect, ornamentation, dignity are so important to the skeksis, using someone's title to refer to them is the default, and using a personal name is specifically marking something. this is also why we very rarely see anyone call emperor "skekso" (with the exception of, to the point i’ve gotten to in the novels at the time of writing, skeksa and skekmal--and those two seem more likely to talk back to skekso anyway tbh)--it would just be rude as hell and there might be consequences

it's also of immense interest to me that at one point in "shadows of the dark crystal," skekmal refers to emperor as "so." i have not seen this kind of shortening anywhere else. it's either a peculiarity of skekmal, which would check out, given how weird his speech patterns generally are in that book, or an additional level of informality, which presumably no one but skekmal has the guts to *use* (especially for skekso holy shit).

-"shadow of the dark crystal" gives several skeksis specific fucky speech patterns (presumably in the gelfling language), *besides* what's going on with chamberlain, which i think can mostly be attributed to like. Chamberlain. chamberlain has multiple scenes in AOR where there are only other skeksis present (so i think it’s a fair guess that they’d be using the Skeksis language), and his speech patterns are just as weird, in the same ways, as when he’s talking to gelfling.

so what i'm saying about this is mostly discounting chamberlain, although i will say that the “using the same weird speech patterns in sentences that are in-universe presumably in skeksis and gelfling” thing, to me, suggests maybe that he actually has a different kind of fucked up speech pattern across languages, and it’s being “translated” as the same for the benefit of the viewers (i would guess the skeksis and gelfling languages don’t have exactly the same grammar; i would also guess that chamberlain talking kind of weird is, as iirc the wiki suggests, a deliberate choice meant to project a certain image). it’s also interesting that from the very little information i have just from “shadows of the dark crystal,” chamberlain does not make the same errors as emperor (possibly he actually speaks gelfling fairly well and is playing up “oh look at poor harmless chamberlain, i don’t speak your language too good, be nice to me :)” ?)

i'm going to talk about *shadows of the dark crystal*!skekmal separately, since his speech patterns, as mentioned above, are kind of wild and have some commonalities with both chamberlain and the other skeksis in the book. i feel it necessary to distinguish novels skekmal from aor skekmal, who talks normally if a bit melodramatically. (also i'm getting the impression they have slightly different personalities, from what i've seen so far, but that's not relevant to this monstrosity of a post)

i am going to list the weird sentences individually in a bit here. the most notable oddities (discounting chamberlain and hunter) are copula omission, verb number agreement (possibly person, too, but english has so little verb agreement that that's hard to judge); "gelfling" being pluralized as "gelfling," which i think is common enough in tdc but in combination with the previous point made me wonder about pluralization errors? the omission of definite articles, and some odd word order stuff that could also be taken as sheer pretentiousness

copula omission:

"gelfling the ones that do the fixing" (202)

"gelfling causing problems for us, lord skeksis (202) ("lord skeksis" there also feels odd to me; i think i would have expected a definite article, and maybe a different word order)

"all gelfling traitors" (211)

verb agreement:

"we love gelfling, we do, we loves them" (203)

"after all skeksis does for you! gelfling came here just to tell such lies!" (211)

misc:

“daughter-soldier” (202) is not egregious but a bit odd

“yes?” to end a wh-question (202)

"silverling is sounding like a traitor herself" (212)

"see the crystal herself" (214) is not terrible but feels a Little weird

“we care not”

hunter: (not sure whether to even count this for Skeksis Speech Oddities because his speech patterns are SO wild)

"skeksis tower"

also drops first person subject pronoun (222)

"end this now, skekMal will do" (222) -- third person for himself, weird word order

omission of third person subject pronoun also

consistent omission of articles, except "skekTek the Scientist"

"not if skekMal make and take it for *himself*" - verbal agreement error

"what we does with Gelfling" - verbal agreement error

more subject pronoun omission and verb agreement errors- "silverling wanted to know what we does with gelfling. wanted to see for itself...got what it deserves" (222)

"hard to fight while carrying stone" (225) - this is okay but feels kind of weird (at least personally i’d probably say “it’s hard to fight…” in this context)

skektek also omits subject pronouns (238)--"gets to see the crystal *now*"

we don't see skektek omit first person, which is interesting; i’m taking that as essentially a characterization thing--it makes sense to have skektek in particular emphasizing his own presence and relevance

"skeksis taking care of it, taking care of gelfling" - past progressive expressed as simple progressive with no copula (243)

"how's skeksis to protect little gelfling when crystal cracked?" - agreement error, article omission (243)

"when growing old? growing weak?" (243) - omission of both subject pronoun and copula

negative concord--"not one with nothing"--(245)

"where the one with wings" (248) - copula omission

"skekmal smells 'em" (248)--is this the first place we get a potentially animate pronoun used for a gelfling by a skeksis? and it's plural?

"what says gelfling"

"gelfling wings comes fluttering out to save it" (248)--with "it" being gurjin, presumably, since skekMal would be unable to grab naia since he doesn't know exactly where she is. so this would be "gelfling wings comes fluttering out to save gurjin;" "gelfling wings" could be interpreted as "gelfling with wings" or "gelfling's wings" with about equal workability in this sentence--"gelfling with wings comes fluttering out to save gurjin" or "gelfling's wings come fluttering out to save gurjin"--Gurjin takes it as the second ("gelfling wings fly her to ha'rar")

"skekMal kills this one, then it kills the others" (249)--skekMal using not only third person, but inanimate third person, to refer to himself. skekMal using third person like this could be taken as meaning that referring to yourself in the third person either has a different connotation than in english (i tend to think of it as sort of childlike or cutesy, and skekMal is REALLY not that), and most likely different connotations for skekMal doing it than chamberlain doing it, or this is just a really weird take on him.

also, I’ve mostly been assuming the skeksis using “it” for gelfling is just a “they don’t see gelflings as fully sentient” thing, but that can’t really apply to skekMal; i wonder if the skeksis language doesn’t have a pronoun animacy distinction, or it doesn’t work the same way as in english, and they’re just Worse about remembering to use the right ones for gelfling, because of the “not seeing gelflings as people” problem?

you could take that farther and say the skeksis language, or maybe the urskeks? don't have third person pronouns at *all;* (at any rate, my personal headcanon has always been that they didn't originally have gendered pronouns, or really gender at all per se, and skeksa and (probably) skeklach (and by extension presumably their urru counterparts) just heard this "she" and "woman" thing from non-skeksis and went "yeah i want that")

also this could have relevance to chamberlain and novels!skekmal using third person for themselves so much

my friend skye, mentioned above, took this and suggested the skeksis lang is grammatically similar to japanese, in connection with the urskeks being super collectivist, which i like. It would also jive with the verbal agreement and pluralization errors, inconsistent use of articles, and copula omission.

this post may be updated with more novels stuff later on, because This Is What I’m Doing With My Major I Guess.

#txt #tdc #long post

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h-orus · 4 years

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The common irritations include: - The conveyancing process involves a lot of documents and it is important that all elements are appropriately completed. They can cause considerable delays to the procedure if the solicitor or conveyancer is reliable and also not persistent in sending off the best little bits of paper at the appropriate time. To assist smooth the procedure, modern conveyancing practices operate with on the internet case tracking facilities permitting you to access as much as date info on your purchases 24 hr a day.

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- Inspect that inexpensive quotes aren't missing surprise prices. Do your study and also make certain you understand what the final expense will be; our overview on conveyancing fees will certainly assist. And whatever you do, prevent solicitors/conveyancers who bill a hourly rate, and watch out for any type of quote that does not completely itemise all fees You can prevent falling foul of these irritations by asking the ideal inquiries prior to you instruct, and choosing your conveyancer meticulously.

Getting or selling a house is possibly the biggest 'deal' in your life. A key component of this is selecting a vetted solicitor that you can count on.

1. Look for individual (as well as recent) referrals

Great old fashioned word of mouth is among the most reliable techniques of ensuring you get an excellent service-- in any type of sort of trade. Ask friends and also associates who have actually just recently gotten or offered residential or commercial property if they enjoyed with their solicitor or (qualified conveyancer) as well as whether they would advise their solutions. The evidence, after all, remains in the dessert.

2. Ask the agent offering the residence

The agent in charge of marketing the residence may also have the ability to suggest a good solicitor-- nevertheless, they manage them daily and recognise which ones are much more aggressive as well as which are much less so.

3. Think about a regional conveyancing specialist firm

As much of the conveyancing process is now executed online (or by means of the traditional article) it's not crucial that the firm you select is local to your present home. Nevertheless, if time pressure is on later on down the line, it can be comforting to recognise you can deliver records or picture ID for instance, by hand.

4. Audio them out

While you may not completely understand the ins and outs of what a solicitor does, remember you are a paying customer and it's your right to scope out what you can anticipate in terms of get in touch with, speed and estimated expense.

Constantly telephone the solicitors prior to making an instruction as well as ask to talk to whoever will be dealing with the case. This is also a chance to develop a connection which might verify useful later on down the line.

5. Think of the dimension of the firm

Especially if it's throughout the summer or Xmas holiday, you might wish to take into consideration using a larger firm of solicitors. By doing this, there'll be most likely to be others that can action in as well as cover if your solicitor is off-- as well as maintain that critical momentum going.

6. Don't plump for the most affordable

It's a great suggestion to obtain an approximated repaired expense upfront from your solicitor, do not be lured to simply head directly for the most affordable. The stating, "if you pay peanuts you obtain monkeys," is one that occurs. My advice is to choose high quality.

Both solicitors (who are managed by the Solicitors Regulation Authority) as well as Licensed Conveyancers (who are managed by the Council for Licensed Conveyancers) are completely managed as well as insured. See our overview on conveyancing costs to offer you an idea of what conveyancers as well as lawyers consist of in their fees and also just how much you should anticipate to pay.

Home owners Alliance makes it very easy for you to find the conveyancers and also lawyers that our members have actually had the best experience with, by showing you a ranking following to some of the quotes. If the solicitor or conveyancer is not thorough and efficient in sending off the ideal little bits of paper at the right time, they can create substantial hold-ups to the procedure. - Some conveyancers and also solicitors can be hard to get hold of, making it hard to track exactly how your situation is going, or to get any kind of inquiries answered.

Anthony Stockton Solicitors

First Floor, 2 Manor Square, Solihull B91 3PX 0121 289 3088

#conveyancing solicitors solihull #property solicitor #conveyancing #solihull #birmingham #west midlands #uk

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skamofcolor · 6 years

Text

Engel and “Nice White Lady” Racism

“The most effective adaptation of racism over time,” DiAngelo claims, “is the idea that racism is conscious bias held by mean people.” This “good/bad binary,” positing a world of evil racists and compassionate non-racists, is itself a racist construct, eliding systemic injustice and imbuing racism with such shattering moral meaning that white people, especially progressives, cannot bear to face their collusion in it.

- A Sociologist Examines the “White Fragility” That Prevents White Americans from Confronting Racism [X]

I’ll be the first to admit: I like Engel. She’s quickly become my favorite Vilde for a number of reasons. She seems kinder, more open to admitting her mistakes, and more aware of her own discomfort. Above all, she’s not openly hostile to Imaan and it seems like she’s really trying to make Imaan feel included. It seems like a lot of the fandom agrees.

Something that the fandom also seems to agree on is how rude Imaan is. “Why is she so mean?” is a question, in many different forms, that keeps popping up. And the consensus behind this seems to be that her actions and words are mostly unwarranted. Ad that’s because Engel is sweet and kind and even when she messes up, she apologizes. So it’s not like with Kiki (Druck) or even Vilde (og Skam). In short... a lot of folks seem to agree that Imaan is being mean for no reason.

But I think it’s important that we investigate this a little further.

Because to Imaan... it probably doesn’t seem like “no reason.” And to me, and maybe some other Muslim fans and/or fans of color watching, it doesn’t feel like no reason at all. In fact, much of it seems warranted. And what really feels mean is that I can’t seem to escape the same old defenses of white women/white womanhood that have oppressed WoC for centuries. I'm tired of being forced to see things from white women’s point of view. And I’m tired of WoC being condemned for their anger.

Because regardless of how sweet or well-intentioned Engel seems to be, what she’s doing is still rooted in racism and Islamophobia.

Let’s move back for a moment, though. Because this is not only an issue of racism and Islamophobia, but of sexism and patriarchy, particularly when it comes to white women.

As the quote says above, there's this widely perpetuated myth that oppression on an interpersonal level is always openly ad intentionally hostile, mean, or aggressive action or words. But the truth of the matter is, someone behaving in a racist or Islamophobic way also includes microaggressions. Even if there's no intention of malice behind microaggressive actions or words, they still cause harm; they continue to support and perpetuate racism. They continue to negatively affect the People of Color they're directed at, even if the person doing/saying something doesn't think it will. The important thing to remember is that impact is more important than intention.

But we’re not taught this about oppression. We’re taught that racism and Islamophobia is intentional violence - most of which is wrapped up in white manhood. Despite the fact that white women have historically been just as intentionally violent in their racism as men, it’s easy to continue to think of white women as non-perpetrators. On a globalized scale, we're taught that white womanhood is something that needs to be protected. That, especially young white women, are fragile or just don't mean harm.

And yes - while this idea of needing to protect white womanhood was created and is perpetuated by patriarchy, it doesn't mean that white women don't benefit from this. Under this patriarchal assumption that white women are always victims needing protection, People of Color (in particular, Black women) are seen as inherently aggressive, hostile, and dangerous. (For those who’ve seen Get Out, one example: white people kept defending Rose after they saw the film. Rose. The catalyst for so many Black people dying.) White women are constantly given the benefit of the doubt.

Of course, Engel isn’t killing people. Hell, she’s not even intentionally discriminatory, (it seems). But that’s part of the issue here. Because Engel is so nice, it’s so easy to feel sorry for her - and so easy to condemn Imaan for her reactions.

Now, separately, each of Engel’s racist and Islamophobic microaggressions don't seem so bad - but put them all together and it's clear to see why Imaan is frustrated. Especially because we can assume that Engel is not the first, nor will she be the last, to say racist things to Imaan. Imaan has probably had to deal with people assuming things about her and her communities simply based off of her race and religion her entire life - and has probably had to deal with worse things than constantly hearing people randomly ask "don't you get hot in that thing?" Because even if Engel is well-intentioned, white nationalism is on the rise not only globally but in the Netherlands. To not take that into account - even as an unwritten backstory - to why Imaan reacts the way she does even to casually racist remarks is, I feel, a huge misstep.

If we start to break down some of these scenes - but instead of focusing on Engel’s reactions and feelings,we re-center Imaan in these analyses - then a pattern emerges. We see Engel constantly Othering Imaan and Imaan constantly feeling upset by Engel’s words and actions.

1) Engel Is Clearing Uncomfortable Meeting Imaan

When Imaan first comes up to the group, Engel looks physically uncomfortable and confused. Even though she knows nothing about her, has not even known she existed before this scene. But she’s automatically made a judgement about Imaan. Consciously or not, her emotions are written all over her face.

Now, check out Imaan’s reaction. When she introduces herself she’s smiling, she looks excited. That is, until she notices Engel’s face. She even does a double-take. The smile falls off of her face; it’s like she’s gotten this reaction before and she’s already gearing herself up for some racist or Islamophobic remark.

2) Engel Makes A Snap Judgement About Imaan

It looks like Imaan was right to gear herself up. Because immediately, Engel questions Imaan. Now, in Engel’s POV, this maybe looks like something sweet. A tentative ask, based off of the things she’s heard about Muslims.

But look at Imaan’s reaction before she makes her sarcastic comment. She looks hurt. She looks angry. She looks like she can’t fucking believe what this white girl just said to her, spouting off some stereotype that feels like it’s tied up in assumptions about Islam being sexist. Because here’s the thing: how is Imaan supposed to know exactly what Engel means by this statement?

As the audience, it’s easy to assume Engel means no harm. But how do we actually know that? We know nothing about her besides our socialization of innocent white womanhood. But as most PoC can tell you - white women are just as dangerous as white men are. And at this point, we - and Imaan - know nothing about Engel. None of us know if this was an intentional jab or simply trying to be polite or what.

3) Engel Is Clearly Uncomfortable About Imaan Being In Their Group

Now this is a small detail but it’s important: Engel specifically asks about Imaan joining the group after she and Janna walk away. As they go, it seems like they’re arguing a bit. We can’t know for sure, because this is Isa’s POV and they’re walking away. But there are a lot of implications behind this, including the one that Engel doesn’t feel comfortable about Imaan despite not knowing anything about her but her religion and her race. This small bit reinforces the idea that there’s something about Imaan that has Engel on edge. And as educated viewers, we should already know what it is.

4) Engel Continues to Make Assumptions About Imaan Based Off Of Her Race and Religion

Engel explains that she chooses Talinn for the city trip because it’s a fun place that doesn’t revolve around parties. It’s clear in this scene that she’s pointedly talking to Imaan about that. And on the surface, this actually feels really sweet - she’s trying to be inclusive, trying to be understanding of restrictions (she assumes) Imaan has, being a Muslim. She’s being nice.

But again, let’s focus on Imaan’s reaction. She doesn’t look particularly pleased or grateful - in fact she seems mostly just confused. And as the video pans to Isa and Liv and an awkward silence ensues, I think it’s clear they feel the same as Engel. Something that might have been done in an effort to be respectful just seems to fall flat. Because it’s again based on assumptions, not based on anything that Engel actually knows about Imaan. She’s singling her out.

5) Out Of No Where, Engel Asks A Personal Question About Hijab

Seriously, this question... comes out of nowhere. It has nothing to do with what they’re talking about and it makes no sense to bring up. Imaan does seem to have a positive reaction to this though - after Engel compliments how pretty she looks, a small smile creeps onto her face. She seems pleasantly surprised that that was the follow-up to the original question. And I think with that small addition, it’s safe to infer this isn’t the first time she’s heard this - she already has the snappy “it’s hot in the summer anyway” response immediately. She’s used to people commenting on her hijab, and probably with her about it.

It’s honestly, probably what Imaan’s expecting, especially after the initial introduction. Because she can only base her responses on what she’s previously experienced with other white people - and she can only make assumptions based on those experiences. At least, until Engel surprises her. And Imaan seems genuinely okay with Engel’s response to her response, which is good. But it doesn’t stop the original question from bizarre in the context of their conversation.

Something that we should be asking is why it was important for Engel to ask that, in that moment? Why was it necessary for her to question Imaan about her hijab?

6) Engel Tries To Be Culturally Sensitive While Othering Imaan

This scene, I feel really brings together the drive behind Engel’s Nice White Lady racism, and that’s the idea that she doesn’t really see Imaan as belonging. Again, this is something that seems nice, right? Engel made the effort to learn an Arabic, Muslim greeting to include Imaan. To make her feel welcome.

But look at Imaan’s response. She again just looks confused, and maybe a little amused, as she says “okay.” Because it’s actually very weird to speak to someone in a language that you have never heard them speak. It’s random and it’s weird, especially considering not once before this has Imaan spoken anything other than Dutch to Engel. Not once has she used an Arabic greeting or asked the others to do so.

7) Engel Openly Admits She Doesn’t Think Imaan is ‘Really’ Dutch

I think this scene is so powerful because it’s the culmination of the rest of Engel’s Nice White Lady racism. Because this is the root of the matter, isn’t it? Because although this isn’t even said cruelly, it’s said plainly. And it addresses all of Engel’s microagressions against Imaan thus far.

It’s the idea that Imaan isn’t one of us. Imaan doesn’t understand our culture. Imaan doesn’t belong here.

Imaan is an Other.

Engel's racism has been very subtle in that it continues to perpetuate the idea of Imaan as Other - as someone who, because of her race and religion, isn't really Dutch and isn't like Engel and the other girls.

Acknowledging that someone is going to have different customs, traditions, or belief systems because of their religious and ethnoracial background is important, of course! But in cases like this, it's a form of homogenization. It's indicating off the bat that Imaan - as a brown, Muslim woman - doesn't belong and make a lot of assumptions.

As we see in these scenes, it very well might feel like Engel really is "just curious" and attempting to be inclusive. I think there's an intention, on behalf of the writing staff, to give her a sort of ignorantly innocent air (as opposed to some of the open hostility we've seen from other Vildes). And Engel even admits it herself - she’s not trying to hurt Imaan.

But I don’t think we should be lulled into seeing things only from the white woman's side. I've seen too many posts thus far that aren't even attempting to view things from Imaan's point of view. And if folks did try that, I think it would be much more obvious why she seems "so rude" in the face of Engel's microaggressions. Because when we look at Imaan’s reactions, I think it’s clear that they do affect her negatively. And they’re just some of the many, many racist and Islamophobic things she experiences every day.

And that's really the root of the matter; and why, in og Skam (season 4), the bench scene with Isak and Sana was straight up bullshit. Because the burden should not have to continually fall on marginalized people to meet everyone else where they're at. This is not to say asking questions when appropriate and/or encouraged is wrong. We only learn about our differences when we make the effort to educate ourselves. But it should not be the burden of marginalized folks to continuously answer unprompted questions, to continuously be nice to people who assume we don't belong, to continuously be picked at and prodded and have to defend ourselves.

And I'm tired of Good White People lecturing People of Color about how we should be nice and patient when the same kind of respect isn't given to us. Our lives are not after-school specials for white people to learn from. We are constantly asked to meet white people where they’re at - but white people rarely do any work to confront their own racial identities. They are rarely asked to think about how we are affected by their curiosity.

As far as Imaan knows, Engel is at best “ignorant but open” and at worse blatantly hostile. But regardless of which one it is, it makes me extremely uncomfortable to police how WoC react to the racism they experience, intentional or not, in order to defend white people. And I'm seriously hoping that of all the remakes, Skamnl is the one that addresses this. Because it's extremely fucked up to continue to ask WoC to cater to the emotions of white people, namely white women, because they're "trying." It's gross to ask us to put aside our right to be wary, our right to be annoyed, our right to be angry when faced with racism just because "you know she's just trying her best, right?"

I think the best comparison to this scene in the Skamiverses was in Druck, in the first scene that we meet Amira. The theater kids don't give her the flyer to help tutor refugee students because they take one look at her and assume that she's not German. That she's also a refugee, that she doesn't actually belong. And as good-intentioned as they may have been, their assumptions were still racist and Islamophobic. They were still stereotyping Amira based off of how she looked and without even speaking to her, already labeled her as Other.

And just like that was important to show - as was Amira and Hanna's reactions, confirming for the audience that this microaggression is occurring - I think it's important to also show Engel's brand of Nice White Lady racism. Because racism isn't always consciously done, it isn't always a physically violent act. But what Engel is saying is violence. And it is messed up. And it's a kind of racism that People of Color are constantly dealing with, especially from "allies" who think what they're doing is inclusive - when really all it's doing is perpetuating the idea that we are Other.

I'm glad that across the Skamiverse, the showrunners are showing different forms of racism in the Vildes. I really applaud Skamnl for taking the risk to show this sort of Nice White Lady racism and the subtle ways in which it has been affecting Imaan. But I also really hope that by the end of S1, Engel explicitly apologies for her actions. I also really hope that as viewers, some of the fandom isn’t so quick to continue to condemn Imaan and coddle Engel.

- mod Jennifer (11/1/2018)

#skamnl #meta #long post #Imaan Elami #gifs in post #skamnl s1

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