Friendlocke Violet Gijinkas (Part 2/7)
PART 2 BAYBEE WAHOOO!! Three more gijinka designs comin right up!
I plan on posting them in order by groups of three, so there’s gonna be seven parts in total, all of which I’ll be linking here when done vvv
(Part One) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)
!! These will contain personal headcanons I have for the cast, little fun facts, and also spoilers for Friendlocke Violet (for both the edited vids and the streams) This also contains a small amount of blood on one of the images!!
@saltydkart-reblogs
And that’s pretty much it, designs under the cut!
JOE:
The reason Joe dislikes most bird pokemon such as fletchling is because they're always stealing and pecking at the olives he... or well more specifically his company grows.
Speaking of which, they own a large plot of land which is used specifically to grow olive trees, which of course are used to make the olive oil he sells. What? Did you think that the olives come from Joe themselves? Of course not silly, welcome to capitalism.
That being said, Joe DOES know how to garden. When they first started their olive oil company they had to grow their own olive trees. Nowadays, in their spare time, they'll sometimes be found tending to the olive trees in their company's garden.
His crown is personally tailored for Joe and Joe ONLY. Crafted with the shiniest gold and the richest olives, all fit for a king! Somehow it never falls of his head. (Fun fact: the points are made to look like olive oil bottles)
Joe needs glasses but usually wears contacts when in public. Not that they look bad with glasses, it's just a personal choice.
Joe LOVES being involved in... well, anything! As long as it's not weird or sexual or illegal (that last one counts UNLESS it involves scamming others into buying his oil products), he is more than happy to invite himself into whatever is going on around him. What are you going to do? Stop him? Oh please!
HANNAH Ü:
At the start of her career, she would spend her days doing her own one-man (or.. well... woman) shows at subway stations, telling stories and entertaining other pokemon and people alike while they waited for the next train to arrive.
Her hat and cape are made entirely of salt! She is able to transform her cape and hat into different shapes and usually used this ability of hers to make stuff such as accessories, hats, and props that fit the role she's donning at the time.
Hannah LOVES collecting stickers and often wears them proudly on her body (in her poke form ofc ofc). However, she usually has to get someone else to stick them onto her bc of her lack of actual hands.
Some of her improv roles are inspired by the people she meets while others are inspired by pieces of media she's interested in at the moment.
Will ABSOLUTELY learn a new language if she needs to for a role. Duolingo speedrun world record
MYKYIE:
As stated previously, Mykyie used to be a circus performer before he quit to pursue his dreams. His most popular act involved him spinning plates on a stick while standing on a ball.
^^^ Because of this, he also has really, REALLY good balance.
Mykyie always keeps his Miku glowsticks on him, even when not attending any of her concerts.
"Anger Point" is basically an uncontrollable form of last resort whenever Mykyie is close to death but can still fight, it usually leads to him attacking whoever or whatever caused him great harm (In the instance of Lark, it was when he crit Mykyie and the ladder's health was extremely low.)
The Miku tattoo on Mykyie's arm was designed by Mykyie himself! However, it was drawn on him by an anonymous underground artist who went by many names to hide his true identity. The name that the artist went by at the time Mykyie got his tattoo was "Cl@ir33"
The cuffs and cape that he wears are... well, WERE, red. An unknown force seems to be slowly turning them into a shade of blue.
And that's all the HCs for now! Next Gijinka batch will consist of GrAce, Braidy, and Christene's
Also here's the posterless version of Joe's Gijinka bio before I go
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Despite the late hour, Leif couldn’t sleep. And it wasn’t just the uncomfortable bed, although that exacerbated it. The real discomfort was mental: churning of the guts, restless unease under the surface, mind full with the sensation of racing thought without actual thoughts behind it. Leif wasn’t even sure what was wrong, only knowing that these feelings had sprouted up shortly after the three of them checked into the inn for the night.
That, and the specific nagging feeling of something associated with still-forgotten memories. Leif knew that, like a healing wound, it would go better if not picked at. But like the metaphorical wound, the thought prickled too much to ignore. It was right there, just within grasp, with a tiny bit more effort-
Leif sat up abruptly, and, having apparently been to one side of the bed, fell to the floor.
A mumbling from Kabbu’s side, then, ever-so-slightly panicked, “Vi? Leif?”
“We are fine.” But between having fallen to the side where he could see and punctuating the reply with tripping over the tangle of blanket, Leif couldn’t stop him from getting out of bed to help.
“Are you sure? Did something happen?” As he got Leif back up, his gaze swept the room.
“No. It was only…” Leif grabbed one arm at the sting of a little more memory sliding back in, although not enough to answer the questions it raised.
“What are you two doing?” Upon laying down, Vi had practically cocooned herself in a blanket, her antennae the only thing sticking out. That was still the case, although she’d adjusted so her face was barely visible in the shadows of the fabric. It was kind of adorable, and were it not for all the mind-occupying things already going on, Leif would have teased her about it. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”
Had it only been her, it would have been easy to dismiss the whole thing, tell her to just go back to sleep, but Kabbu was giving that kicked-aphid look of concern that made it so hard to be mean to him. “We had...a small realization. We don’t know what it means, but it probably isn’t important.” Leif would be up for the rest of the night thinking about it, but that wasn’t anyone else’s business.
“Well, I’ve found talking things out can often be very helpful.”
Vi groaned, flopping back onto her bed. “If I’m tired in the morning you have to carry me,” she murmured, but wiggled around so she was facing the two of them.
Again, it could have been so easy to use her comment as an excuse, a deflection. But now that the invitation was out there, Leif couldn't help but start attempting to explain. “It’s about when we checked in.”
Kabbu tilted his head. “What about it?”
“We- when we paid the innkeeper, she said ‘have a good night, sir.’” Leif paused. “And it...bothered us.”
“Was there something about the way she said it, or something she did as she spoke?” He started to get up off the side of the bed where he’d been sitting. “I thought she’d been noting but polite, but I was tired and-”
“No. She was fine. It was the ‘sir’ part.” Leif looked down, hands twisting the blanket. “It...took us off-guard, somehow. Which didn’t make sense, of course, so we ignored it. But then we couldn’t stop feeling uncomfortable with ourself, in ourself. We didn’t connect the two until we remembered.” The words came out fast, then. “It’s still vague, but this has happened to us before. Being addressed in such ways and getting disoriented, angry, sometimes. Vividly so. But then also other times it has not bothered us at all, even made us happy.”
“You woke us up for that?”
“Vi! We’re trying to be supportive here!”
She groaned. “Yeah, but that’s like saying the sun hurts your eyes if you have to look at it. It sucks, but it happens to everyone.”
Kabbu got half a syllable out before he stopped, turned to face her, and stared at her long enough that Leif looked up and exchanged a ‘what the heck’ glance with her. “I…” He looked between the two of them. “I’m not sure that’s accurate. I’ve never felt that way.”
“Yeah, but you’re...you.”
There was some, odd, reassurance to Vi’s assertion, although even with only fuzzy memory, Leif was certain Kabbu was the factually correct one. “That...isn’t everything, either. We also recalled occasionally being referred to in feminine terms, with a similar range from discomfort...to joy. And they weren’t exclusive. Sometimes we felt like both genders at once, or neither.”
“Okay, that part’s w-”
Kabbu gave her a look.
“...different.”
He didn’t say anything, patiently waiting to see if Leif had something else to say.
“We feel as if there might be something else, an explanation we used to have or...we don’t know. That’s all we can recall, now.”
“That’s alright. Thank you for telling us what you do.” Kabbu shifted so he was fully facing Leif. “I don’t have an explanation either, but we’ll help you figure it out. Is there anything we can do to help right now? Should we change how we refer to you?”
“Leif is always good.” If there was one certain thing, now and in memory, it was that name being safe, being comfortable no matter what. “For everything else, it won’t always be the same.”
“Hm. Would you prefer us to ask what to call you, or should we leave it to you to tell us?”
It was weird, in a dizzying sort of way, how easily accepting Kabbu was being. Not unwelcome. Not entirely unfamiliar, although that was the barest wisp of an impression. “We’ll tell you, but we don’t mind you checking every once in a while, as long as there aren’t any other bugs around.” It would still get noticed eventually, in particular with bugs they ran into frequently, but Leif wanted to limit the number of times this conversation might have to happen with a random bug.
“Alright!”
“Yeah, okay,” Vi mumbled, voice heavy with sleep. “I’ll call you whatever, it doesn’t matter.”
Another prickle of emotion, which Leif kept internal. “Thank you.” Voice rougher than expected, Leif kept the rest short. “That’s all for now. We’d just like to go to sleep.”
Kabbu nodded. He started to reach out, stopped, and stood up instead. “If you want to talk about this again, for any reason, let us know. Good night.”
“Night.”
It took a while to fall asleep, thoughts still eddying, but Leif got there eventually, a bit more comfortable, more secure than before.
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Surprise smooch !! There’s no reason. Charles just wants to express his love for Vil 💕 💕
At first, Vil didn’t know what to think — it was natural instinct that made him turn his head the other way as a means to avoid Charles’ (countless) attempt to catch his lips but as for avoiding the Prince’s hands, it was of no avail. Much like avoiding the kiss, entirely. For it was despite Vil’s effort to avoid any contact on his lips, Charles managed to surprise smooch his way to half of Vil’s mouth. It may be what the Prince wanted, hence his actions but there are reasons for the Queen’s own actions, as well. Make no mistake.
Vil’s beginning to think Charles doesn’t quite understand the dangers of someone making their own cosmetic products with their own ingredients and own advanced knowledge of spells and hexes. He will learn one day. That day may have arrived far sooner than he realizes. A short-lived victory for our fallen Royal Sword Attendee, that much was for certain.
Charles certainly deserves to face the consequences of just grabbing the Queen in such a way — what kind of Prince even does that? — despite Vil’s temper rising to an extreme high in a short duration of time, it also balances as quickly as it rose; for he’s able to see first-hand, his newest brand of poison-laced lipstick taking its course. What better way to test it than a willing participant? Vil could almost take pity on the man as he shows clear signs of the poison taking its course: the dizzy eyes, fading complexion, imbalance and soon — collapsing.
As Charles would find his world slowing into a haze, Vil only watches with a look of apathy. It’s a proper punishment, after all. Despite the lack of manners displayed today, Charles should be lucky that Vil kept antidotes on his person. Still, that doesn’t mean he won’t take his sweet time letting the symptoms run its course. Once Charles was fully sedated, it was then did Vil look at his makeup. Smeared. Ugh. Nothing but a quick touch-up could fix ... Let this serve as a lesson, Prince.
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