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mrawdrs · 2 years

Note

Please give us new folk a rundown on your OCs here >:D

CRACKS KNUCKLES

you just said the magic words bestie get fuckin ready

OKAY SO...

the setup for mrawdrs is that the four main characters all work at the same company (named MRaWDR: Magical Runoff and Waste Disposal Regulations, because the founder is about as original with naming things as i am LMAO) working as a field service team, the same way a crime scene cleanup or hazmat crew would work, but way more magical

first is addie dunbar, the security/medic (still working on her certification on that last one tho)

shes a unicorn, a trans lesbian, and has NO INTERESTING BACKSTORY AT ALL HAHA WHY WOULD YOU EVEN ASSUME THAT... here have some random facts so you stop thinking about it

her favorite author is jane austen, shes a huge classic lit nerd and listens to audiobooks constantly

her sharp teefies are veneers that were an absolute goddamn NIGHTMARE to get put in, because unicorn magic is healing-based and they just kept fucking popping off

shes actually SUPER fucking powerful as far as unicorns go, but being able to refine and direct her magic in a useful way is Very Very Dangerous to do on her own, and theres no unicorns around to help guide her

none that she would want to learn from anyways

hehehahehhahehaheheha

her great-great-great grandmother is brooklyn supreme

her voice claim is hozier, because take me to church is an extremely addie song

her job on the team is to act as a living battery for elmira to use to supercharge her runes, do (VERY MINOR) healing if one of them gets hurt, and to take care of any violent flora/fauna/sentient goo that may show up on a job. support tank!

up next is the teams technician, jones nolastname

a human engineering magic specialist, ball of anxiety, and Ultimate Nice Guy (genuine), they maintain and reconfigure all the equipment that the team uses on all of their jobs

yes thats their real last name. they fucked up the application for name change and never corrected it because they were too socially anxious

theyre a DDR master and will hog the machine at their local arcade for 12+ hours if you let them

theyre also a huuuuuuuge anime/manga/video game enthusiast. were it not for my infinite mercy as their god, they would be addicted to genshin impact

theyre actually the only native resident of the city that everyone lives in, called The Island of Steve (the name changes pretty often lol), everyone else moved from different states or countries

they grew up in the foster system, and were bullied so heavily by their foster siblings for being autistic and having a severe stutter/other speech impediments that they became mute. when they were younger it was by choice, but now as an adult their vocal cords have completely atrophied and theres no chance of recovering their ability to speak

BUT. sign is taught as a second language in all schools by law, so its a little easier on them to adapt

as such, they dont have a voice claim, but the song i most associate with their character is Worlds Smallest Violin by AJR. sometimes i think about paying someone to translate it into asl so i can make an accurate animatic of them "singing" it

third is elmira quickroot, the charms specialist and recordskeeper

fucking ultimate weirdgirl, i love her to death and i want to rattle her around like a maraca. she's a faerie, very british, and yes she does dress like that in her daily life. this is not a faerie thing shes just fuckin weird. her job on the team is to record absolutely everything that happens to the letter (for legal and billing reasons), and doing more intricate charm/rune work (which is essentially like magical computer coding)

elmira has perfect memory! much more intense and detailed than the eidetic memory or hyperthymesia that humans can have, literally every second of every day has been perfectly branded into her memory since the day she pupated into an adult. she doesnt know why, this isnt a normal faerie thing either, and her coping mechanisms for escaping the constant recall are.. not good, to say the least

shes a HUUUUUGE textiles nerd, she makes all of her own clothing on as minute a level as she can manage- by which i mean she weaves her own fabric, spins her own yarn, makes her own patterns, and on and on and on. dont get me wrong, she can and will raid the local Fantasy Michaels or Joann Fabrics for any supplies she can get, but the girl is kind of bugfuck nuts and on bad days she'll get really deep into it

her home country is a cut off faerie-only kingdom in the UK called The Realm, made from the ruins of an old castle built by giants waaaaaaaay back in the day, i need to do concept art of it because its genuinely beautiful

her voice claim issss. complicated. the closest human equivalent is florence welsh but pitched up, but in reality it would sound way less human. the way i usually describe it is if someone sang a sentence backwards into a microphone and then reversed the audio. i might do a demo of what i mean at some point lol, but thats pretty common for faeries

she stole her name from the city in new york and her gender from a random barista

the boobs are implants lol

her wings are based off of a blue morpho dragonfly

and finally... the man of the hour, your grandpa and mine, ultimate babygirl.... TOUFOR!!!

(THUNDEROUS APPLAUSE)

toufor is the customer relations guy, he goes out and does surveys on non-emergency jobs and coordinates with the clients to make sure they get all the right services they need. he is the most well adjusted motherfucker in canon and hes a corpse

(okay thats a lie theres someone who very nearly ties with him, but thats a sentient pair of pants who sounds exactly like sonic the hedgehog. his name is frankie we love him.)

toufor is a ghoul, the only one that has ever existed or ever will exist because hes a ~walking human rights violation~

i wrote out a whole list for toufor and then my computer restarted and deleted all of it so im gonna crawl in a hole for a while. aaaaaaaaaaaa

OKAY

toufor is a huuuuge music nerd, his record/CD collection is valued in the hundreds of thousands of dollars and he listens to everything in it regularly

the only guy in the world who says his music taste is everything and really means it

he has achondroplasia, but is shorter than the average height for people w the same condition. that plus the general constantly rotting a little faster than your body can replenish its cells thing means that he has a lot of health issues

BUT. he has a whole platoon of specialists that have dedicated their careers to keeping him healthy and with a good quality of life. its my city and doctors can be good if i want them to be. their work and the treatments he goes through are inspired pretty heavily by the Lenin Lab, which i recommend you check out this video by Ask a Mortician to learn more about it!!

this body isnt his original, and the elaboration on what happened and how his Whole Deal works is an entirely different post on its own. it will involve diagrams

i have an au that i write with my bestie where some of the characters in mrawdrs work at a strip club, and toufor comes in to do nothing but eat chicken wings for the entire night and then tip $500 to every dancer. they all love him dearly and this vibe extends into the core canon storyline

he cannot perform any kind of magic! due to the way his soul-body situation works, he has no way to access the magic inside of his body, or the stuff that exists in the environment ambiently. going along with that, any magic performed on HIM takes much more "juice" to actually take effect and takes MUCH longer to do so. he isnt a complete dead zone (HAAAAAAAAAA) but his... tolerance? is much higher.

his voice claim is corpse husband. i shant elaborate.

aaaaaaand thats the main bitches. theres also a fuckin LOT of side characters, sexy irredeemable antagonists, and background characters ive put a ridiculous amount of thought into, who all deserve their own posts in time... this is a threat

thank u for the opportunity to gush about my babbies <3

#adeline-florence dunbar #toufor 2-4 #jones nolastname #elmira quickroot #not art #lore time lore time

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fastcrthanfast · 2 years

Text

Task 25-

Nina is the second eldest daughter of the McQueen clan but Fran’s first-born. She was born to Fran but adopted by Monty early on in her life. She enjoys being the princess that she is but she is the most compassionate one in her family and due to her powers, very in tune with her siblings. Her powers are what encouraged her to go into Psychology so she could help as many people as possible.

General

birth name. Nina Elizabeth McQueen nicknames. Nin, Principessa date of birth. January 1 age. 25 gender. female pronouns. she/her powers. telepathy species ( if not human / mortal ). sexuality. lesbian place of birth. Elias, California current residence. Elias, California occupation. psychologist

Appearance

height. 5′5 build. slight hair colour/style. red/wavy eye colour. brown piercings. Ears tattoos. matching tattoo with her siblings notable markings. small scar on her fingers from helping reign in horses glasses/contacts? No faceclaim. Madelaine Petsch voiceclaim. Madelaine Petsch

Health

physical ailments. None allergies. none sleeping habits. the best sleeper always gets her 8 hours eating habits. not picky but definitely likes fancier foods body temperature. she’s always cold dominant hand. right drugs / smoke / alcohol? no / no / socially

Personality

positive traits. kind, loving, communicative, patient, empathetic, open-minded negative traits. impulsive, materialistic, anxious, bossy, clumsy usual mood. cheery likes. her Andi, cats, horses, dogs, shopping sprees, traveling, helping people in any way she can, sunny beaches, the italian riviera, having tea parties, sweet treats, her siblings dislikes. mean people, overpriced necessities, rainy days, arguing, soap operas, cleaning bad habits. shopping when she’s stressed, keeping her own emotions inside

Relationships

parent. Francesco Bernoulli father. Monty McQueen siblings. Dante, Elise, Caspian, Athena, Enzo, Seraphina, Stefan children. none yet birth order. Middle child, 3rd out of eight significant others. Andromeda Hawkins closest friends. hmmmm, this could be you??

Tests

zodiac sign. Aquarius mbti. INFP temperament. phlegmatic hogwarts house. ravenclaw moral alignment. neutral good

Skills and stats

Languages spoken. English, Spanish, Italian drive? Yes jump start a car? Yes change a flat tire? No ride a bicycle? Yes swim? Yes play an instrument? No play chess? Yes braid hair? Yes tie a tie? Yes pick a lock? No sew? Yes

compassion. 10/10.

empathy. 10/10.

creativity. 7/10.

mental flexibility. 10/10.

passion. 10/10.

luck. 5/10.

motivation. 10/10.

education. 7/10.

intelligence. 7/10.

charisma. 10/10.

reflexes. 10/10.

willpower. 10/10.

stamina. 10/10.

physical strength. 5/10.

battle skill. 3/10.

initiative. 10/10.

restraint. 3/10.

strategy. 8/10.

team work. 10/10.

#|nextgen: Nina|#waltnextgen

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pidgeon-sorrel · 3 years

Text

LFRP: Pidgeon Sorrel

🌺 THE BASICS 🌺

Name: Pidgeon Sorrel

Nicknames: Pidge, Pie

Age: 37

Birthday: 1st Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

Race: Veena Viera

Gender: Female (she/her)

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Sexuality: Lesbian

Server: Mateus (Crystal Datacenter)

🌺 PHYSICAL APPEARANCE 🌺

Hair: A thick tumble of shiny black hair with mossy green tips. She keeps the worst of it under control with braids and clips, but there always seems to be a strand falling over her eyes.

Eyes: Bright red

Height: 70 ilms (5’ 10”)

Build: Petite and a little pudgy, with a fair bit of muscle under her curves.

Distinguishing Features: Pidgeon’s skin is distractingly pale and colorless, a trait she leans into and accentuates with a lot of dark makeup.

Manner of Dress: Favoring draped cloth in a vaguely Thavnairian style, emphasizing freedom of movement over protection. Though her armor is highly functional, it is also tastefully appointed, well-maintained, and coordinated, betraying style to be a high priority.

Common Accessories: Pidgeon tends to adorn herself and her armor with rare or unusual feathers. She carries a small sketchbook at all times and often wears a flower pinned under her left ear.

🌺 PERSONAL 🌺

Professions: Fræsjaandi / elemental troubleshooter. ( White Mage / Paladin / Bard )

Skills: conjury, swordplay, reading the unseen, sniffing out secrets, landing herself in a hot mess, improvising a way out

Interests: bird watching, mystery novels, obscure trivia, climbing and parkour

Residence: The Black Shroud

Birthplace: A small terraced farming village in the Skatay Range

Religious Affiliation: Pidgeon considers her work as a Fræsjaandi to be a spiritual duty to her community, and is attached to the worship of Gera, a god worshipped by the group who shares similarities to Geruda. Among the Eorzean gods, she feels the strongest affinity toward Oschon, but she does not worship him.

🌺 RELATIONSHIPS ––– 🌺

Romantic: Evangeline Cross (dating)

Children: none

Parents: Snaebjorn Dansari (mother), unknown (father)

Non-bio Siblings: Tuia Hawthorne, Unndis Footfall, Tinna Wellwick, Ljot Alder, Valdis Gully, Fjola Agelyss

🌺 TRAITS ––– 🌺

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

🌺 ADDITIONAL INFORMATION 🌺

Smoking Habit: Though she rarely smokes herself, Pidgeon seems to be drawn toward the smell of fragrant pipe smoke.

Drugs: Lighter fare -- weed and mushroom teas for relaxation.

Alcohol: Preference for light sour or fruity beers.

🌺 RP HOOKS 🌺

Lore Hunter: Pidgeon hungers to collect ancient secrets and uncover lost knowledge. Mysteries, curses, and unexplained phenomena of all varieties will attract her attention, and she will readily team up for ill-advised ventures into places she doesn’t belong.

Fræsjaandi (elementalist): Pidgeon was born with an ability to see and converse with elementals, and accepts it as a spiritual duty to root out and correct imbalances. She will readily accept any task to aid those who need assistance with problems of an elemental or aetherial nature, especially within the Black Shroud.

Bird Watcher: Pidgeon holds a fondness for all things avian. She is always on the lookout for others who share her passion or want to join her in tracking down some of Eorzea's more rare or elusive birds.

Social Butterfly: As Pidgeon's work often requires her to travel alone for long stretches, she is eager to spend her time back in civilization with good company. Flitting between parks and cafes and bars, she's keen to make new acquaintances over a pipe or a pint.

🌺 OOC INFORMATION 🌺

PIDGEON IS LOOKING FOR

Secrets to uncover and mysteries to solve.

People who know the way into forbidden places.

Purveyors of obscure knowledge.

Co-conspirators.

The elusive Larkscall warbler.

I’M LOOKING FOR

One-shots or short-term storylines.

Long-term narratives with an emphasis on character development.

Character relationships across the gamut -- friends, enemies, rivals, family, mentors, partners in crime, etc.

🌺 CONTACT INFORMATION 🌺

Generally open to lore-bending, when it's done with the purpose of adding depth and texture to the setting without breaking it.

Not looking for ERP.

In-Game: Pidgeon Sorrel

Asks & Info: @pidgeon-sorrel

Carrd: pidgeon-sorrel.carrd.com

#lfrp mateus #ffxiv rp #ffxivrp #viera #crystal lfrp #mateus lfrp #ffxiv lfrp

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darkenedreaper · 4 years

Text

So Was I

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Avengers x reader.

Warnings: angst, strong violence, language.

Part 4/?

As you were being rushed down the medical ward on a stretch with wheels, Maria was by your side, sticking with you in case your arc powered off which would result in your heart failing and could result in your dying. She was whispering reassurances only you could hear, and her hand was stroking hair away from your eyes. Maria was very formal and professional woman at work, but you had been friends for so many years and you had become someone she would call family. Your head was tilted towards her and an oxygen mask hid some of your restraint and beaten face, but blood coated the ring of the mask. You were then wheeled into an operating room, most likely to hook you up and check your heart and stitch up the wounds that seeped with betrayal. Maria was told to leave the room and she didn’t without fuss not wanting to cause disturbance around you.

Meanwhile, Natasha was rummaging her way through hallways as she nearly crashed so to every person who walked by her. She had a million things to say to you, a million things to apologise for. Her heart ached with how she realised she had been treating you, the way she abandoned you and hadn’t even double checked instead at the time she was blinded with rage and hurt. And all she could see in her mind, was you lonely figure roaming in the kitchen at night as you always did trying not to bump into the team as you didn’t want to piss anyone off at 3 in the morning.

She hadn’t been able to sleep, and she shrugged it off from it being a hard mission, when deep down. Somewhere deep where she couldn’t admit it. It was because of the absence of your arms. The loneliness they created. Bruce couldn’t hold her like you would, your hand would be wrapped around her middle, your arm tucked underneath hers that rested on top of your as her had was wrapped around your wrist. Your legs would perfectly curl up and bend into hers as hers would do the same. Your warmth would radiate into her back creating a feeling like home.

Then she saw a skinny, hunched as tired figure walk into the kitchen, a figure that jumped as soon as it saw her.

“N-Natasha hi.. umm can I just grab a water?”

She knew you hadn’t eaten all day and she could sense your fear of being shouted out or perhaps being pushed backwards out of the kitchen. Instead she just shrugged. She flicked the page of her magazine yet her eyes were trained on you.

“Great thanks. Umm.. I’ll just get it and head off.”

She noticed how your voice had got quieter and she noticed how quick your actions were to grab a bottle of water.

She was disgusted with herself it took this many months, this amount of pain for her to realise she still loved you and always had. She was so focused on getting to you, she nearly fell over once a nurse had stopped her in her tracks whilst nearly falling over herself. She had tried to push Natasha over to the waiting area while Natasha was shouting your name frantically and as she was receiving no information and no response back from you it worried her more and she could feel the tear stinging in her eyes, threatening to slide down her cheeks. Maria had placed her hands tightly on Natashas arms and lead her to the window where they could both see your nearly lifeless body laid on the table as doctors swarmed around you. The rest of the team had also appeared in the room leading in quietly. The room was tense, there was a lot of upset and guilty flowing throughout the room. No one spoke, no one whispered. They just hoped. The doctors tried looking at your reactor and it was all looking positive. Thor had received an urgent message from Steve as he contacted Thor in Asgard when he was being away his shield.

Until that dreadful sound of a heart going into a cardiac arrest, then the killing sound of a flatline. Maria tensed up and Natasha just stared at your body, her nails digging into the little ledge just below the window. Steve swallowed hard, and he frowned and his lips went upside down. Bucky had the same expression only his eyes were shut. Tony was leaning against the back wall so nobody could see his tears. Thor had a strong grip on his red clothing and he too had tears in his eyes. Clint had his head down, he was close to getting upset, but he tried to not make too much sound as he was sure he’d sob. Bruce had his arms folded, head down in a corner. He hid his hands away as he couldn’t bare to look at them. Couldn’t bare to remember the punches he laid at your face. Wanda and Vision were holding onto each other, Vision holding onto Wanda more so as she had started to cry the minute the shield was struck down into your reactor.

The machine had confused to flatline and it was about a minute before they could bring you back. They all looked up towards you as they heard the, faint but there, heartbeat. They wanted to smile, cheer but they couldn’t.

The doctors advised them all to give you a few hours of rest as right now you were in critical condition. Natasha had begged to see you. She even had written pages of what she wanted to say. They had all made their own seats and space in the waiting area that was a few doors down from your room. Natasha was even woken up by Tony as she had fallen asleep on the floor, her back to your locked door. Her eyes bloodshot and her tears had stained her cheeks.

By now the news had headlined that you were in a critical condition as you continued to lay in the Avengers compound, med bay.

From what they could see, you had a straight dent that went across your arc reactor and skin scratched from where his shield had broken through your suit and into your skin. Steve turned his head away from the scene, Bucky trying to comfort him.

It was about 19 hours since they had been waiting. People came in, and people left. Some people in suits came in, and hadn’t left yet. Perhaps they were in the same situation as themselves. They had practically dragged each other along to go and get something to eat yet all of them refused to sleep. They had gotten changed at least. Natasha put on one of your hoodies she always kept in her wardrobe. Bucky wore his red jumper you’d gotten him for one of his birthdays. Tony had put his brown bracelet that you’d gotten him which represented his family. And Steve had put on his gold chain that had a little logo at the bottom. It was half of the Captain America logo and half of yours. Steve had always admired you for your soldier like skills and honoured you for your past time in the military which is why he was one of the closest to you.

After they had refreshed a little, they all went back to the ward only to find Nick Fury standing there. And his face was... troubled? But he had anger residing in his for how they treated one of his best agents. Natasha swallowed her anxious feelings back down to the pit of her stomach. She knew something had gone wrong.

“Agent L/N has been kidnapped. Possible by Hydra. We’re doing all we to bring her back, but right now chances are slim.”

He walked away after his sentence had been spoke. They all stood still frozen in one place. Tony literally ran away to his lab as Bruce followed, hoping they could mess around with your laptop perhaps see if they could trace your arc reactor. Steve and Bucky remained there. Thor had to sit down still recovering from the shock. Natasha nearly collapsed but her knees kept her up, just about. A single tear fell down her face, as she whispered to herself,

“Y/N..”

@natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @confusinggemini612 @imnotasuperhero @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz @fcbarcelona-and-marvel-4-life @gaytrashgoblin @capmarvelq @nat-romanoffdanvers @fayhar @lesbian-x-blackwidow @emilyprentisswife @captain-josslett @oblivious-horny-lesbian @trikruismybitch @summergeezburr @username23345

#natasha romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #Avenger #avengers x reader

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unfolded73 · 4 years

Text

Five Times Ronnie Was a Friend to David and One Time She Was a Friend to Patrick (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

"I think it's less about Ronnie disliking Patrick, and [more about] Ronnie seeing this person come in and having a huge effect on someone she cares as much about as she does David," Robinson said. "Ronnie likes to take her time and figure things out, and err on the side of suspicion." -- Karen Robinson in The Advocate

Rated Teen, 3876 words

___________________________________

When Ronnie saw Stevie get out of the car that morning with David Rose, she almost spit out her coffee.

Ronnie had been going on Roland’s annual turkey shoot since before she’d run for town council almost a decade ago, when she’d shot more turkeys than any of the men on the trip and had earned a lot of grudging respect. This morning, she’d been standing there with Bob and Roland, shooting the same kind of shit they always did. Their council meetings often devolved into this kind of idle chatter, which was one of the many reasons it was hard to get anything done in Schitt’s Creek.

The day was cool and crisp and Ronnie’s thermos of coffee was warm in her hand. She was already looking forward to swapping it for beer later, after they’d hopefully bagged a few wild turkeys. Then David and Stevie arrived, and Ronnie’s attention was thoroughly diverted.

Ronnie hadn’t really spent any time with David Rose yet. She knew Johnny because he’d made a nuisance of himself at a couple of council meetings, and she knew Alexis, thanks to her court-ordered community service. (And yes, Alexis was a princess — the type of person you’d see on one of those ridiculous reality shows on basic cable. But she showed up for her community service dates and made some kind of an effort. Plus she was pretty; not Ronnie’s type and way too young for her, but admittedly enjoyable to look at.) Ronnie had even spoken to Moira, the most baffling of the Roses, a couple of times at the café. David, she hadn’t really given much thought to yet.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d clocked David as queer right away, and she couldn’t say she was sorry to have another queer resident in Schitt’s Creek. But she’d also assumed he was vain and probably an asshole, and she didn’t have room in her life for assholes. Seeing him at the annual turkey shoot didn’t fit at all into her preconceived notion about him.

The way he handled a gun, that fit into her preconceived notion about him. Still, he was trying, and she had to give him credit for that. Ronnie took pity on him and helped with his grip on the gun so that the recoil wouldn’t knock him flat. And when he shot his first turkey in the neck and had to watch it slowly die, she did feel sorry for him, patting his back to commiserate.

When they paused for a break in the early afternoon, Ronnie took it upon herself to bring David a beer. He accepted the bottle with a poorly-restrained grimace. “Thanks.” His voice was quiet, the edges from earlier filed off.

“How did Stevie talk you into this, anyway?” Ronnie asked. “Doesn’t seem like your scene.”

He looked down his nose at her. “How’d you guess?”

She just raised an eyebrow and waited.

David huffed. “I don’t know. Stevie asked me, and there had been this bug thing, and… I figured if I said no, it would just confirm her assumption that I have no practical skills. And… I don’t know. She’s been a… friend… to me. So.”

Ronnie nodded, impressed with his openness. Maybe it was brought on by the trauma of killing a turkey, but it was openness nonetheless.

“Plus, I had nothing better to do,” David added.

Ronnie clinked her beer bottle against his. “Fair enough.”

Ronnie couldn’t help being curious when word got around that David was starting to get things set up inside the general store, that maybe he’d be opening his new store soon, although no date had been announced. There was a lot of buzz around town about it — Brenda had been telling anyone who would listen that David Rose was a fan of the moisturizer she made at home and would be selling it under his label. If Ronnie was honest, Brenda was getting a little too excited about it given that the store hadn’t even opened yet.

Still, when Ronnie came out of the café one afternoon and saw a sign painter starting to work on the windows outside, she wandered over to have a look.

She tapped on the door, waiting until David looked up and beckoned before she went in.

Already, she could see David’s mark on the space. All the metal shelving from the old general store was gone, replaced by wood furniture that gave the store a much more upscale look. David was busy sticking labels onto bottles in the middle of the room, his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on his task.

“Hi, Ronnie,” he said, his eyes darting around nervously. “Are you here to revoke my business license?”

She laughed. “I don’t have that kind of power.” Sticking her hands in her back pockets, Ronnie rocked on her heels. “I just wanted to get a look at the place.”

David gestured around. “Here it is. There’s a lot to do still.”

She looked around at all the boxes of products, at the empty shelves left to fill. “You don’t have any help?”

“Oh, I do, actually? Not at the moment, but I have a… I guess I have a business partner now?” A furtive smile flickered on his face. “Not officially, yet. But I will have a business partner.”

Ronnie raised her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Um, Patrick Brewer? He works with Ray right now, but—”

“That guy? Isn’t he brand new in town?” Gwen just so happened to have introduced her to Patrick last week as the newest player on the Café Tropical baseball team.

David shrugged. “I guess.”

“And so you trust him to help you run your business… why exactly?” Ronnie had gotten the impression of a hypercompetitive bro type, what little of Patrick had caught her attention during the game. She hadn’t been impressed.

David’s eyes widened. “Because!” She stared at him and waited for him to elaborate. “Because he knows about taxes and grant money and food product licenses and I don’t know about any of those things.”

“So you’re going to entrust your business to him,” Ronnie said flatly, shaking her head. “Isn’t that exactly the kind of trust that led to your family losing all your money?”

“Patrick’s not going to embezzle money from me,” David said with an eye roll. “For one thing, I don’t really have any money for him to embezzle. And for another, he’s not that kind of person.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” David huffed, flailing his hands around. “Now can you please stop trying to give me more things to be anxious about? Believe me, I’m anxious enough as it is.”

“Okay.” She sighed. David was like an innocent lamb in some ways, she thought, and not just because of his fuzzy sweaters.

“Look, I know the town council would have preferred Christmas World, but—”

“Oh, that was mainly Bob and Roland,” Ronnie said. And Moira, it had to be said, but she wasn’t about to mention that to David in case he didn’t already know. “Personally, I think year-round Christmas stores are tacky.”

“Thank you.”

“Whereas this place looks like it’s gonna be…” She scanned the room again. Somehow it seemed brighter than it ever had under the previous owners. Maybe it was just that the windows were clean. “Really nice. Classy.”

David gave her a charming, lopsided smile. “That’s the plan.”

“Where the hell is Bob?” Ronnie said, looking at her watch. The sooner they got this council meeting started, the sooner she could get on with her day.

“Robert does seem to have a rather dégagé relationship with the clock, doesn’t he?” Moira said, flipping the page on the book she was reading.

“How late is David’s store open?” Roland asked. “Jocelyn wanted me to pick up a couple of things on my way home.”

“I’m afraid I don’t monitor the hours of my son’s place of business, Roland,” Moira said with a bored sigh.

Roland leaned back and put his feet on the desk. “I mean, assuming they aren’t making a habit of closing early so they can get up to some hanky-panky in the back room,” he said with a snicker. And then when no one commented, he added more directly, “Twyla told me David and Patrick are an item.”

Moira finally looked up. “Are you asking me to gossip about my own son’s romantic liaisons?”

Roland was undeterred. “Just curious if the rumours are true.”

“I’m not sure which rumours you speak of, but yes, I understand that David’s relationship with his business partner has grown into an affair de coeur.”

“So you are going to gossip about it then,” Ronnie said, her chin resting on her hand.

“I shall give no further details, Veronica,” Moira said, going back to her book.

Ronnie didn’t give it any more thought until she saw David in the café a few days later. She was lingering over her breakfast at the counter when David came in and ordered a coffee and a tea to go from Twyla.

“How’s the store, David?” Ronnie asked when Twyla went to make the drinks.

“It’s… great, actually. People seem to want to buy the things we sell, which is nice.”

“Well, that is sort of the whole point of owning a store.” She hesitated, unsure if she should say anything else, but then she figured, what the hell. “The scuttlebutt around town is that you and you and your business partner are more than business partners.”

“Oh, so people are talking about us,” David said with a frown.

Ronnie shrugged. “It’s a small town and there’s not much else for people to do. You know how it is.”

He looked insulted at the idea that he would know how it is.

“It’s an awful lot to share with one person, David,” she said, because she’d been there before, when she was young. Madly in love and certain that she’d found the one, the stereotypical U-Haul lesbian, moving too fast and getting her heart broken. She’d learned the hard way.

“Are you giving me relationship advice?” His head moved a complicated dance on the end of his neck, somehow expressing his anxiety better than his words ever could.

“I’m saying that getting involved with the person who you have to run a business with can get messy when things don’t work out.”

His eyes flickered down to his shoes. “I know. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I fuck it up.”

“So sure that you’re going to be the one to fuck it up?” she asked, feeling that same protectiveness that he’d always engendered in her for some reason.

“Well Patrick isn’t going to be the one to fuck it up, he’s… perfect, basically?”

Him? she wanted to ask. Instead she said, “Nobody’s perfect.”

Twyla brought over David’s to-go cups.

“Just… be careful, that’s all I’m saying,” Ronnie said, accepting the check from Twlya and pulling out her wallet to pay.

“I will,” David said softly. “I mean, I am.” But she could tell that he was already a goner, his cheeks flushed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He also pulled his wallet from his pocket, handing over some cash to Twyla. “He’s… new at this. Being with a man,” David said, so quietly that she almost didn’t catch the words.

“Oh, boy,” Ronnie said, because she’d been down that road too. She’d been an experiment to a few girls who later decided they weren’t really all that bisexual after all. She’d been forced back into the closet by girlfriends who weren’t ready to be out. All of it sucked. She guessed David had been through his share of those kinds of relationships too.

Fighting every aloof instinct she had, Ronnie put a hand on David’s arm. “If you ever want to talk, I’m around. You can give me a call.”

David looked as surprised by this moment of tenderness as Ronnie herself was. “Thanks, Ronnie.”

“Any time, David.”

Ronnie was on her third whiskey when David and Stevie arrived at the Wobbly Elm.

David was wincing as they joined her at the bar. “I hope my partner hasn’t driven you to drink, Ronnie.”

Ronnie glared at him. As if she cared enough about Patrick Brewer for anything he did to drive her to drink. “I finished the bathroom when I said I would, didn’t I?”

David held his hands up in surrender. “The bathroom is beautiful, Ronnie. The calligraphy workshop last night went off without a hitch.”

“Glad to hear it,” she muttered, her drink back at her lips.

“Will you shut up about the damn bathroom, David? We’re here to drown my sorrows, remember?” Stevie said, poking him in the chest. “Go get us drinks.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, moving down the bar to get the bartender’s attention.

“Drown your sorrows?” Ronnie asked.

Stevie sighed. “The guy I was seeing turned out to be an asshole: the Stevie Budd story.”

“Mm.” Ronnie took another sip of her whiskey. “I’d say the problem is men, but my love life hasn’t been much better lately,” she said just as David rejoined them.

“I thought you were with… what’s her name? The gravel lady,” David said.

“Karen,” Stevie said at the same time that Ronnie said, “We split up.”

“I’m sorry, Ronnie,” Stevie said, lifting her hand as if she was going to touch Ronnie’s back, and then wisely thinking better of it and dropping her hand back to the bar.

Ronnie shrugged. “It happens.”

“Wow, this has, like, never happened to me,” David said.

Stevie narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“I’ve never been the one with the successful relationship in a group of people at a bar like this. I’m always the one crying into my martini.”

“Shut the fuck up, David,” Stevie said.

“Does that sound like a thing you should be saying to us right now?” Ronnie asked, her voice going high with indignation.

“Just for that, you’re buying the next round too,” said Stevie.

“Okay.” David said, biting his lip. “Sorry.”

***

“And so apparently a casual fuck is all I was good for,” Stevie said before drawing more pot smoke into her lungs. She and David sat on the hood of Stevie’s car at the far end of the Wobbly Elm parking lot. Ronnie stood beside them, holding herself steady using the car’s side mirror and sharing a joint with these children because apparently that was how low she had sunk.

“That’s bullshit, Stevie,” David said, taking the joint from between Stevie’s thumb and finger.

“Well, you’d know,” Stevie said.

“That’s exactly it, though,” he replied before pausing to hold the smoke in. “It’s because you are such an excellent person in other ways that it would have been a mistake to ruin it with sex,” David said in a long exhale before passing the joint to Ronnie. “Or, with more sex, I mean.”

“Maybe I’m also bad at sex,” Stevie said.

“You are definitely not bad at sex. You’re great at sex,” David said.

“Really?” Stevie asked.

David nodded. “Yep. Yes.”

“You’re great at it too, David.”

“Uhhh, yeah. Of course I am.”

“I am getting such a fascinating window into your relationship,” Ronnie said as she passed the joint back to Stevie.

“I bet you’re great at sex too, Ronnie,” David said.

“Damn right I am.”

“Stevie and I tried the friends with benefits thing a long time ago,” David explained, the marijuana freeing his tongue. “And although we’re better off as friends and I’m very much in love with Patrick, that doesn’t stop me from seeing that you are the whole package, Stevie Budd, and if Emir didn’t see that then he can suck a bag of dicks.”

Stevie laughed wildly.

“Same goes for Gravel Karen,” David said, gesturing up and down at Ronnie.

“Uh huh,” Ronnie said impassively, although deep down she was pleased.

Stevie’s head dropped until her chin touched her chest. “I’m gonna have to leave my car here. We should call a cab.”

It occurred to Ronnie that she wasn’t anywhere near sober enough to drive either. She was out of practice at this whole going out and drinking in bars thing, and she was even more out of practice with this smoking pot thing. “I’m too old for this,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll call Patrick,” David said, fumbling for his phone. “He’ll pick us up.”

Which was how twenty minutes later, Ronnie found herself climbing into the back seat of Patrick Brewer’s Toyota next to Stevie, who immediately let her head fall onto Ronnie’s shoulder. David was planting a sloppy kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek in the front seat, making Patrick wipe the saliva off his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Wow, you guys reek of pot smoke,” Patrick said, looking at Ronnie with his stupid Bambi-eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Just drive, Brewer,” Ronnie said.

“Straight men are the worst,” Stevie murmured. “Why do I bother with them?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, honey,” Ronnie said, petting Stevie’s hair.

“So they tell me I have you to thank for all the extra flowers,” David said, sinking into a chair next to Ronnie as she put a forkful of wedding cake in her mouth. She caught a flash of his inner thigh before he crossed his legs, and while Ronnie had no interest in the male half of the species, she’d have to be dead not to appreciate David Rose in that skirt and those boots.

“Well, it was the least I could do,” she said after she’d swallowed her bite of cake. “You deserved a nice day.”

“And you and the Jazzagals learned our song,” David said with one of his lopsided smiles, a glass half-full of champagne dangling carelessly in one hand. “You, Ronnie Lee, stood in a room full of people and sang the song that Patrick sang to me at the first open mic.”

“That was Jocelyn’s idea,” Ronnie said with a frown. “I had to go along with the group.”

David elbowed her. “Come on. Admit it. You don’t totally hate Patrick. You like him a little bit.”

She was going to admit no such thing. “I don’t hate that he makes you happy. I don’t understand what you see in him, but I’m glad that you’re so happy.” And then she felt tears welling up again, as if it wasn’t bad enough that she had cried during the ceremony. She fervently hoped no one had seen her wiping away tears.

He grinned more widely, so she guessed she’d given him a satisfactory answer. Ronnie looked over at the dance floor, where David’s husband was currently dancing with his sister-in-law.

“I hear you’re buying the place out on O’Beirn Road,” she said.

He nodded, his face positively glowing with happiness now. “I’ve been admiring that cottage from afar for years. We’ll be moving in next month.”

“A place like that, it might need some work done. I trust you’ll come to me first if you need a contractor?” She took another bite of cake. It was delicious cake, moist and citrusy, and she savored the bite on her tongue.

“Of course we will. I have some ideas for the kitchen, although we might have to wait a year or two until there’s enough money to do justice to my vision.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to do anything that didn’t do justice to your vision.” She ate some more cake and watched David watching Patrick until she couldn’t stand it any more. “Ugh, your heart eyes are giving me a stomachache. Go dance.”

David held his hand out to her. “Come dance with me, Ronnie.”

She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and took his hand and let herself be pulled out onto the dance floor.

+1.

Ronnie had almost dozed off at her desk in Town Hall when he came in.

“Patrick Brewer,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “Shouldn’t you be off on a honeymoon somewhere?”

He approached her nervously, his hands clutched together in front of him like a supplicant. “We decided to hold off on the honeymoon until we could afford to go somewhere really nice.”

“It’s not time to renew your permits for the store already, is it?”

“Nope. I’m here about council, actually,” he said.

“Public meetings are the second and fourth Tuesdays of every month,” she said, leaning back and putting her feet up on the desk.

“Okay, but I was more curious about the open council seat. With Mrs. Rose gone.”

“There’ll be an election to fill the seat,” she said, her feet thunking back down to the floor. “Why?”

“I, um… was thinking about running.” He chuckled nervously. “To keep it in the Rose family, I guess.”

“Assuming you’d win,” she said. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Is anyone else running?” he asked, a little of his usual, annoying self-confidence showing through.

Ronnie sighed. “Not yet.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that really the reason you want to run? To keep it in the family?”

Patrick cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter. “No. Since we’re settling here pretty much permanently, I’ve been thinking about other ways I might be able to contribute to Schitt’s Creek. I have ideas about bringing more business to downtown. And David and I have gotten to know several of the farmers in the area, selling their products in the store, so I hear a lot about their concerns.”

Ronnie stared at him for another few seconds, and then opened a file drawer, pulling out a form. “You’ll need to fill this nomination form out and get five signatures to support your nomination,” she said, pointing at the blank spaces on the form. “Think you can do that?”

Patrick took the nomination form from her. “Do I think I can get five people to sign my nomination form?” he said, sounding a little bit testy. “Yes, I think I can manage that.”

“You’re a real joiner, aren’t you?” she asked, hand propped up on her hand. “Baseball, community theater, town council… next you’ll be joining the curling club.”

He smirked. “I would, but it interferes with my hockey practice. Besides, Ronnie, you do all those things. Plus the Jazzagals. I’d say it takes a joiner to know one.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Tell you what,” she said, reaching for the form. When he handed it back to her, she signed on the first nomination line. “I’ll give you your first signature.”

Taking the form back, Patrick gave her a bemused look. “I figured I’d be the last person you’d want filling the empty seat on council.”

She shrugged. “Not the last person…”

“Okay, thanks,” he said with an eye roll, turning to leave.

“I’m looking forward to hearing your ideas,” she called, making him stop and turn back. “And if you win, I’m looking forward to kicking your ass on a regular basis, just like I do in baseball.” And then Ronnie laughed, loud and long.

“Good to talk to you too, Ronnie,” Patrick said, headed back toward the door.

She was still laughing. “Say hi to your husband for me!”

#schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick fic #david x patrick ff #my fic

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forkanna · 3 years

Link

WARNING: I did tell you that Rise and Ai will have some views on gender and sexuality that I don't agree with. Well here they come in the next few chapters. Please take everything my characters say with a grain of salt; these are simply very realistic reactions and opinions, even if less than ideal.

[AO3] [WATTPAD]

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

Why could she suddenly hear "Purity" playing in the background again?

"You… huh?" Rise finally managed. She had no idea how long it had taken her to say that much, even though it was practically nothing and she had already said that.

"Maybe… ugh. Now I'm embarrassed."

"What- now you're embarrassed?"

"Yes! Because clearly, it did something for me and it didn't do anything for you, so I'm all alone in caring about this, and I feel so stupid!"

Frantically waving her hands, Rise scooted a little closer as she hissed, "Wait, wait, slow down for a sec! I never said it didn't mean anything to me!"

"You did!" she sniffled, trying to recover from her emotional outburst.

"No, I said it wasn't the end of the world, and it's not that big a deal! But I… I'm not going to pretend I didn't feel anything at all. I did. You just seemed really upset about it, so I was… trying to let you know everything's okay."

Ai was glancing over at her occasionally now, clearly unsure of what she should do. Her mouth opened and closed a few times indecisively. "Ugh. I'm ridiculous. This is ridiculous, I don't know why we can't just be normal friends. What is wrong with me?"

"Um… can I ask you a question?"

"Might as well."

"Is this… Class S yuri, or… did you really…?"

They both looked at each other in shock for a moment. Rise was positive that they both were feeling the same thing, as well: the same sensation one gets standing at the edge of a deep precipice, fighting down vertigo and the unhealthy urge to throw oneself down. She couldn't help tracing the contours of Ai's stunningly beautiful face with her eyes, her proud chin and soft lips…

"O-of course it's just a Class S phase. I've never had a close friend, and everything got mixed up. It's probably similar for you, so we just… we have to work on not getting carried away. Right?"

"R-right! Yes, I…" Rise tried to get ahold of herself. This was too silly; they barely knew each other, all things considered. Brand new friends, fresh out of the shrinkwrap. So what was the use in going so crazy about them misreading signals and sending the wrong ones? They could sort this out.

"Great! Glad we settled that." Ai cleared her throat. "And I'm sorry for trying to blame you for everything."

"Oh, it's okay, we were both a little… y-yeah." Rise chanced a nervous giggle. "Sorry I smacked you."

"Hey, it's not like I didn't deserve it. You were right. Do… you want to…?"

When she didn't finish the thought, Rise prompted, "What?"

"Aiya? We, um, could stop by Aiya for a couple of beef bowls. O-or something." She grimaced. "I already feel like we wasted enough time fighting because I'm an oversensitive asshole."

Rise smiled and moved close enough to put her arm around her. "You're fine. And look; we're fine, too. Nobody's dying!"

"Yeah," Ai laughed very quietly. Rise could swear her cheeks were rosier, but that could easily have been from all the crying.

"I would love to go with you to Aiya. Like, we're friends! We should totally start hanging out like normal friends and stuff. Like, you could even come with me if I'm meeting up with Yuki-chan or Naoto-kun sometime."

For whatever reason, that made Ai stop smiling. But she cleared her throat and shook her head hard. "No. It's fine."

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to… offend, I ju-"

"Wait, wait. I meant… it's fine for you to ask me. I should hang out with other friends besides just you. This is normal. I was… kind of…"

Why did she look so embarrassed? "Go ahead."

"I was talking to myself. Stupid. Trying to reassure myself that normal people hang out in large groups, and it's not you trying to ditch me. I'm sorry."

"Awwww, no need to be sorry." She cuddled her closer, and felt Ai stiffen briefly before letting out a sigh. She could hear it, her ear was so close… "We'll figure this crap out, buddy!"

"Buddy," she snorted. "Don't go too crazy, Risette."

"And you're not a fan." They both laughed and they embraced — really, truly embraced this time, no holding back, no letting the awkwardness hold them back. And it was good. Rise still felt her heart beating a little faster, but that was definitely the kind of thing that could be ignored. And she would — until such time as it went away. Even if it didn't, she could take it; she was tougher than she looked.

"Okay, let's go before I get grosser," Ai half-laughed, half-hiccuped as she drew back. Rise could see she had been crying again — and was already trying to wipe the tears away before she realised what she was doing. "Wh-what?"

"Just… trying to help." She pulled back and got a handkerchief out of her bag instead, handing it to her. "Sorry. Here, this is probably better."

Nodding, she started dabbing at her eyes with one hand while the other fished out her compact. The sound of lamentation as she saw her mascara was loud, but she still just nodded and put the compact away. "Well, I did promise myself I'm going to be less vain. Let's go to Aiya."

"You got it! And it's on me!"

"Wha- no way, I will fight you for that check!"

"BRING IT!"

~ o ~

Everything was fine. Rise had been a little worried about how the evening would turn out, given how anxious they both were after their odd brush with lesbianism. No such issues. They were still just getting to know each other, and what better way to do that than over a steaming bowl of rice and beef?

Ai was a pretty interesting girl. She really didn't seem the type to like daifuku — Rise liked them, too, the sticky red bean paste and rice dough was so much fun to chew. But they were so very traditional, and Ai was a thoroughly modern girl who revelled in trends. Between that, her love of Korean dramas and old city pop, retro games, and hatred of aromatherapy, it was interesting how much they had in common even though a few things they definitely didn't. She loved uncovering this more well-rounded picture of the girl she wanted in her life more and more.

The week wore on, and Rise tried to track Ai down whenever she could to help cement their growing bond. They even hung out with the others a few times, and though Kanji and Yosuke kept getting nervous when she would snap at them for making some off-colour comment, generally everything went well. And by much the same token, Rise hung out with Ai's friends — or what passed for them. Kou and Daisuke had seemingly decided to give her another chance as manager. Yu had told her before that she basically just sat in the corner doing her nails, but she was doing much better at actually engaging with the team, by all accounts.

Thursday was different. Ai was gone again, and didn't respond to texts. Eventually, she did get a message back in the evening…

EBI: Sorry I just needed a day

RISE: What's wrong? RISE: Anything I can do? ;-;

EBI: No I'm…

RISE: Ai-chan?

EBI: Listen it's really dumb but my mom called. EBI: And I just needed a little time to get out of my head

RISE: Oh you ditched again? RISE: You're going to get in trouble you know…

EBI: Listen I know you're going to lecture me but just save it EBI: Oh too late you sent yours before I could send mine

RISE: I'm sorry, I just don't want you to fail and get held back

EBI: Yeah I know. EBI: Thanks. :heart:

RISE: You could have told me and I'd ditch with you

EBI: What? No. I wouldn't want you to miss class because of me

RISE: Are you ditching tomorrow?

EBI: …probably

RISE: Where are we going?

EBI: Come on I told you that's not necessary. This is my damage and my weird thing and I have to face it EBI: And sometimes I need to be alone.

RISE: OKAYYYY okay

EBI: Fine. I'm probably going into Shinjuku this time

RISE: I'm really sorry for pushing RISE: Wait what? RISE: ALL THE WAY TO SHINJUKU?!

EBI: Hey I said I needed space and Okina isn't cutting it EBI: And I promise I'll be fine

RISE: ...when and where? Straight to Yasoinaba Station?

EBI: Rise… EBI: Alright I guess I can't stop you

RISE: Really?

EBI: Pain in the ass EBI: Yeah fine… 8AM don't be late or I'll leave without you.

RISE: YAAAAAAAAAAY~ RISE: We're gonna have the best time just you wait!

EBI: Uh huh EBI: Lol you're amazing.

RISE: Huh? Why?

EBI: Nevermind EBI: See you tomorrow.

RISE: Can't wait Ebi-chaaaaaaaaaaan~

EBI: UGH

And that was that. The pop star curled up in her bed with her big plush Jack Frost, grinning into the stuffing as she contemplated what the next day could bring.

~ o ~

"What the hell are you wearing?"

"SHH!" Rise hissed at her as she strolled up to Ai on the train platform. "I'm incognito!"

"Uh huh. Can you take those big sunglasses off? It makes you look like a cartoon character."

Rise pouted as she pulled her shades off. At least most of her hair was still stuffed up into an oversized cap; no trademark pigtails to tip off Shinjuku residents that a famous idol had gone truant for the day. "Don't make fun of me. I'm not used to skipping."

"Weak. But I guess it still looks okay, it's just very… Parisian?"

"Whatever. You look cute, though."

"Oh, this?" Ai said airily, swishing out her long bohemian skirt around her heeled boots. Also seemingly suited to colder weather, but her top was a light blue babydoll tee; somehow she pulled it off, even though it was so much less ornate. Her bag was also a little simpler than usual. "I just rolled out of bed and was this fabulous."

"Right," she giggled, bumping her with her hip. The formerly-grumpy girl finally cracked a smile. "This is cute, but you usually have super pricey Prada or Anello or whatever."

"Hm? Yeah, I like this kind of bag. It is Anello — well, Legato Largo. It's more functional."

"Totally." The train pulled in just then, and Rise stepped forward to board once the doors opened, following Ai's lead. "Where are we off to?"

"Shinjuku."

"Well, I know that," she laughed. "But I mean, did you have anything in particular in mind? I mean, it's kind of… a rough neighbourhood, a little."

"Not if you stay out of Kabukicho. And we will," she reassured Rise with a raised hand. "Believe me, I'm even less interested in being jumped than you are."

"Why do you think I'm 'interested' in being jumped?!"

Ai snorted as she held onto a strap and the train took off. "I didn't say you were! Just… because I'm- nevermind, I just meant I don't have a death wish."

It didn't take them long to get to the bustling streets of Tokyo, and switch train lines to run up to Shinjuku. The same way Rise had been relieved to get to Okina, she was even more full of life now that they were really in a thriving metropolis again. So many sights and sounds! Grinning, she turned and grabbed Ai's hands, dragging her forward.

"H-hey, slow down!"

"You're the one that wanted to come here!" she giggled. "So why so slow?"

"Okay, okay, GOD." Taking a deep breath, she brushed down the front of her clothes needlessly, even though they had barely been rumpled, if at all. "Wherever you want. But I do want to stop in somewhere eventually."

"Where?" No response. So instead of dwelling, Rise just sang out, "Okaaay, then let's goooo!"

~ o ~

The day was everything she had secretly been hoping for. They dipped in and out of lots of shops, buying one or two things but mostly browsing. Took advantage of the big city to grab foods that weren't readily available in a small town like Inaba. Stopped to speak to some of the more colourful inhabitants. Rise knew vaguely that a lot of gay men hung out there, but she didn't expect to see so many in flamboyant colours, openly acting so, so… feminine. It was both bizarre and exciting. Were there really this many people in the world who bucked societal norms so openly?

All along the way, Ai was becoming more and more comfortable with her. She still sniped and snarked but there was a playfulness to it that surpassed her previous efforts. They further eroded their anxieties about the accidental lip-lock and started to hold hands and pull each other over to see something instead of being horribly shy all the while. Progress was progress.

Finally, a little after they had enjoyed steaming bowls of udon for lunch, Ai dragged her down an alley unexpectedly. Rise asked if this was where she was finally going to get them "jumped", but Ai only laughed that off.

"No, but seriously, where are we going?"

"You'll see… okay… here."

"'Crossroads'? Okay, cool. Is it a karaoke bar?"

"Not… quite. But I promise we won't be long."

The interior was dimly lit, and everything seemed tinted red. There was a sort of warm atmosphere, combined with a raciness because of the low mood lighting. Rise was fascinated; she had been to a few more upscale places because of her work, and some of the venues she had performed at had bars inside, but this was the first standalone public house she had entered. Mostly because she was a couple of years too young to really be doing that…

"Hey, sugar. You lose your way?"

While Rise was still goggling at how deep the voice was that had come out of the kimono-clad woman behind the bar, Ai was smiling and turning fully in her direction, hands clasped so politely in front of her. "Not yet. But you did help me find it once."

The woman squinted for a moment, then gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. "Little Ebi-chan? Is that you?!"

Rise half-expected them to run together like in a movie and embrace, but they didn't; Ai just smiled wider and plopped herself down on one of the bar stools. "It's me, Ai. In the flesh."

"Whooo! I see that, wow. Well heck, you got no business in here; you're no performer."

"No, definitely not," she admitted with a laugh. "And you helped me see that, Escargot-san."

"PFFFFF," she scoffed very loudly, waving one of those meaty hands. Rise couldn't help thinking that this bar definitely didn't need a bouncer because the hostess herself was so strong-looking! "You'll call me Lala or you'll get outta here. Now, I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna serve you two a drop, since your little friend there doesn't look any older than you. Want a lime-and-tonic?"

"Sure. One for both of us."

"Oh! I…" Rise cleared her throat. "Can I have a cherry, if you don't mind?"

"Sweetie, for you? Two cherries." Rise giggled a little, pleased at the concession. While she made the drinks, she asked, "What brings you back to the neighbourhood? Haven't seen you for a couple of years."

"Oh, I heard from Mother again." Even while Lala was sighing, she passed over Ai's drink, and she stared down into its sparkling depths. "Had to get out of my head. I tried bumming around Okina yesterday, but it's just too…"

"It's the sticks, honey. Of course that's not gonna be enough of a distraction. You need flashing lights, dancing, drinking- well… not drinking," she said firmly, pointing at her. "And I'd better not hear you started trying to sneak booze at any of the other places around here, neither. Everybody knows everybody in this neighb-"

"Okay, okay, wow," Ai cackled before taking a sip. "Mm. I promise not to try to scam drinks from other bartenders."

Lana nodded firmly, satisfied for the time being. Then she turned to Rise. "What's your story, sugar? In the same club as your gal pal?"

"Huh? Oh, I… no, I haven't joined her club; they already have a manager."

For some reason, Ai looked worried about this. Why? They both knew for certain that she had no interest in the basketball club — even just being their manager like Ai was. But her answer seemed to satisfy. "Really? Well hell, that's quite a performance you're putting on, queen! All that contouring, and those are fabulous!"

She had gestured to her chest. While Rise was blushing and looking down, Ai cleared her throat and hastily said, "N-no, Lala, she… don't you know her? This is Risette! You've probably, um, probably seen her v-videos, or heard her songs?"

"Oh, it's Risette, is it?" Lala chuckled, waggling her fingers like she were casting a magic spell or sprinkling glitter. "I used to have a thing for Cher — don't even say it, I know, I know. Walking cliché. But I'm sure you can guess how well that went over; I gave that up eventually, settled on this." She fluffed her violet-hued hair… which shifted. A wig?

"No, I mean she's really Risette. Rise Kujikawa? Like, we're going to school together." Nothing. "The Quelorie Magic ads?"

Now Lala was blinking and looking at her again. "Hmm, really? The hair's not right." Hoping to help clear this up and move things along, Rise took her cap off, letting her pigtails fall. They were messier, but she was still more comfortable with them that way than with her hair down. "Ahhh, there it is! Well I'll be- you two ain't kidding, are ya? This would be a pretty weird prank if you were."

"Nope, it's me," Rise laughed awkwardly. Still a little thrown off by some of their word choices — what contouring? What performance, and why were her boobs being complimented?!

"And no, we're not in the same clubs. In fact, I don't think she knows much about my club at all."

The way those words were emphasised threw Rise off even more. Conversely, Lala's eyebrows shot up, and she looked between them for a moment… before gasping. "OH! Ohhhh, well then, that's fine. Just found a famous friend when you moved to the boonies!"

"Y-yeah," she finally sighed in relief. If Rise didn't know any better, she would swear her friend was sweating now; maybe that shine on her temples was just a trick of the light. "It's pretty wild; I mean, she grew up there, but I don't think anybody expected her to go back after she made it big."

"Nope," Rise said distantly.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I, um… I probably shouldn't tell your whole life story."

"It's fine! So, um, Lala, you have a wonderful bar here. Crazy good atmosphere!"

The bartender was still smiling at her and chuckling as one of the curtains rustled that led to the restrooms, Rise assumed. She barely glanced over. "Well, thank you much. Real lovely soul for an idol; they usually end up kinda bitter." Then she did turn to the side properly. "Hey, you'd better stop stinking up my back room, gaijin."

"Whaaaaat?" called out the lively redhead in the yellow dress. Not that her bobbed hair could possibly have been that vivid shade of crimson naturally — though she was an American, so it was entirely possible. Rise had a hard time telling Westerners apart, but there was no way someone that gaudy couldn't be from the States. "Come on, Lala-san! I have to get on my perfume, where else will I?"

Her Japanese was just quirky enough, both in terms of word usage and her bizarre accent, that the others laughed. "You're a riot, sweetie. But congrats, I guess you're part of Ai's club for real now."

"YES!" The woman saluted, other hand on her hip. Then she laughed. "What club is that? The Love Club?"

"Close enough. Erica, this is… Ai-chan?" Ai nodded. That was funny; Rise could have sworn they were old friends of some kind, and she forgot her name? "Ai, this is Erica… An… Andeshi…"

"Anderson," she provided in her normal accent. "Boy, it's weird using English again after all that time Nihongo-ing!"

"Uhhhh, right," Ai laughed, clearly having no idea what she was hearing.

"Hey! I'm Risette, and I want to be the star of your heart!"

That single line made the woman's huge brown eyes shoot even wider. "Whoooaaaa! Holy Schnikes, your English is really good, like you sound like a Yankee and shit!"

Stammering, she managed, "Sorry! I do not… understand…" Then she switched back to her native tongue and hissed, "I just learned that part for a show and like, a handful of other phrases; I'm really sorry."

"Ohhhh, it's okay," she laughed with a huge grin. Something about this woman instantly set Rise at ease; like she was almost as used to doing that as Rise herself. "Why did you learn that?"

"You missed it, honey," Lala laughed. "Risette here's a big idol. And yes, I have seen you strutting your stuff on the news; you're killing it, girl."

"Oh, thanks," she laughed, having already forgotten about that thread of conversation. "But yeah, that was one of the phrases I had to learn for my New York City concert — even though that's the only one I performed overseas. I also learned, 'Everybody having fun tonight?' and 'I love you all!' and a few more."

Erica laughed and applauded, as if she were performing a particularly impressive trick. "Amazing! You might know only a small English but you sound very good!" As the others chuckled again, she turned back to Ai. "So what did she mean? Lala-chan. You and me in the Love Club."

"O-oh, um…" She glanced at Rise, who arched her eyebrows at her. "Ugh. Come on, I'll tell you back here."

While Rise blinked, Ai led the redhead over to a booth in the corner. They were both roughly the same height, though Erica was taller by a hair. Figuring there wasn't much point in watching them whisper to each other, she turned back to smile at the host of the bar.

"Ai-chan didn't tell you why she brought you here, did she?"

"Nope," Rise offered lightly as she tugged one of the cherries out of her glass. "Just that she wanted me to see this place. Maybe you were some kind of tutor? Helped her pass some class? I don't know."

Lala laughed heartily as she wiped down the bar. "Close enough. You know, I'm honestly kind of relieved."

"Huh?"

"Back when I knew this little squirt, she didn't know which way was up. And I could tell she was heading for a fall; she lucked out with her parents, but she was going to throw herself so hard into her new life that she would forget who she was. But it looks like that straightened out eventually."

"Uh… huh," she said dubiously, turning to look at Ebihara again. Now those two were hugging tightly. She would hug some complete stranger and not her? Though the longer she looked…

Erica's expression was taut and pained. It looked like a couple of things they had talked about were less than fun.

"You've got a pretty special friend, Risette. Just go easy on her."

"I will, Escargot-san," she said right away, turning back so she could bow properly.

"Woweeee, everybody's so formal today," she chuckled as she turned to head into the back. But just then, footsteps approached, so she paused in her action to wait and see what happened.

"…and don't you be worried," Erica was saying, her arm around Ai's shoulders. "I wish I could stay and help but I have to go back to Chicago. And I promise, it will get better. Look at me, over thirty years, and I am very happy! And strong, like a wrestler! And beautiful!"

"And humble," Ai laughed, and the others laughed with her. Then she reached up to rest a hand on Erica's upper arm. "But seriously, I could never thank you enough. It's so… nice knowing I'm not alone. Even if I would have to move to the USA to be less alone in a literal sense."

"Oh, you're alone. I'm in a class all by myself — Boss always says this. He even loves my feet because I am so special." When the others exchanged curious glances, she cleared her throat and said, "No! I mean, he takes care of them, with nice shoes! Sneakers?"

"Ohhhhh," Rise said, laughing a little too much to try to hide her confusion and discomfort. She felt like Yukiko. "I was about to say, that seems a little over the line if he's your boss!"

"Yes! Though I am sure he would love them if I gave him a chance. Look!" She slammed her leg up on the bar, and Lala was already rolling her eyes in mild exasperation. "See? Beautiful!"

While Rise was politely examining the pedicure shown off by Erica's strappy sandals, she caught sight of Ai out of the corner of her eye — and noticed she was blushing hard. So either she was a candidate to love Erica's feet instead of this Boss character, or she was being powerfully reminded of something embarrassing. Rise tried to recall a hazy memory, some story about Yukiko and Chie… she only wished she could remember what it was.

To Be Continued…

#We'll Face Ourselves #saphir de lune #rise x ai #rise kujikawa #ai ebihara #persona 4 fanfiction #forkanna writes #p4 fanfic #jess the writer

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iris-ymir · 5 years

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LFRP- Lareine Kira

Age: 31 Birthday: 13th Sun of the 4th Umbral Moon Race: Veena, Viera Gender: Female Sexuality: Lesbian Marital Status: Its complicated

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Short, raven-black hair, with purple highlights. Eyes: Bright purple (In dim lighting, appears as dark purple). Height: 178cm Build: Slender & feminine. Somewhat toned arms, legs and abdomen. Distinguishing Marks: Five scars from stab-wounds on her torso (Three on abdomen, two on the left from her heart). Several smaller scars run all over her arms and right shoulder (Most of them hard to notice because of her pale skin-tone). Purple markings tattooed around her eyes. Rose-thorns and purple iris-flowers on her left thigh. Common Accessories: Old and crude ring, which stands out of her otherwise groomed appearance. Usually carrying a case of small throwing knives & needles, with a couple of vials filled with poison, well hidden in her garments.

Personal ––– –

Profession: Part-time bounty-hunter, assassin & doctor’s assistant. Hobbies: People watching, bathing, weapon maintenance & drawing. Languages: Common (with slight Lominsan accent), hingan & passable ishgardian. Residence: Pillars, Ishgard. Birthplace: Ymir, Skatay Range Religion: None. Patron Deity: None. Fears: Locked doors, being tied down or losing someone she holds dear.

Relationships ––– -

Spouse: N/A Children: None Parents: Irene Ymir (mother, deceased), unknown father. Siblings: Likely to have half-siblings from father’s side, but none she knows of. Other Relatives: Iriana Ymir (grandmother, status unknown). Pets: Vlad the bat & Jin the weasel.

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: A stress-smoker. Drugs: Varg’s experimental mixtures for her condition. Alcohol: Tends to be a heavy drinker.

Character info!

RP Hooks ––– –

Need a hand with some bigger mark? - Even though Lareine is rather poor team-player, she does co-operate with other bounty-hunters time to time, to hunt down more notorious marks.

Doctor’s little helper - When allowed to, Lareine will be assisting Varg Blacksoul at his clinic. She has become rather skilled in cleaning, stitching and bandading simple wounds. Basically taking care of simple tasks the doctor does not have time (or interest) in.

A street-rat from Limsa Lominsa - If you had any connections with Lominsan underworld roughly 5 years back, you may have seen her around, going by the name “Iris Ymir” back then. Said person is rumored to be dead though.

Bath-house regular - Lareine loves bathing, and tends to visit bath-houses on regular basis.

Out of comfort zone! - Even though I usually favor darker themes in rp, Im basically up for (almost) anything! So do poke me, lets talk! 🌹

What I do and what I won’t ––– –– –

Darker themes (violence, gore, torture, drugs etc.) are totally okay, as long as the partner is 18+, and we have a mutual agreement about things!

No plots that will end up killing my character. Events that will leave scars or permanent injuries (physical or mental) are okay, as long as you talk to me first! 🖤

No ERP. Im married, and have no interest in ERP altogether.

Please, keep the IC and OOC things separate!

About the mun ––– –– –

Im a HUGE horror movie & Soulsborne-fan, and that usually shows on my characters too! ^^’ So anything along those lines, and Im in! 🖤

Time Zone: Eastern european (Im a night-owl though, so while it effects on my active hours, its not TOO bad.)

English is not my first language, so answers may sometimes be slower than from native english speakers, but bear with me!

If you see me around in game, come and say “hi”! Im always up for RP, or just casual ooc chatter! 🦇

Platforms: In game, Discord and Tumblr

Contact Information ––– –

Tumblr - lareine-kira Server - Mateus, Crystal datacenter. Discord - On request

@mooglemeet @crystalxivrp

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mylordshesacactus · 5 years

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Canon Pokemon:

Fuck it y’all have been getting liveblogs anyway if I’m gonna punish everyone for following me I may as well do it right.

Puddles: My perfect chunky son. Puddles is a bulbasaur and he is the best boy in the world and I love him very much. He doesn’t like to battle; there’s no like, trauma or phobia involved, he just doesn’t enjoy it so I don’t ask him to.

Needles: Needles is a small zigzagoon. She’s one of what I call the “neighborhood acquaintances,” in that she’s not really one of “my” pokemon in my direct care and an active part of the story, but she sticks around and I look out for her. She’s kind of like a feral cat that you feed and keep an eye on, set up a warm spot for if it’s cold, and would catch and take to the vet if she was sick.

Smidge: Ralts who lives in the backyard, another of the acquaintances.

Rat Bastard: That one fucking wingull who hangs around my house and won’t leave. He knows what he did.

Buckler: The actual most pathetic wailmer in the history of the world. He lives in a pokeball because he is a whale and I really can’t just walk around with him, and me and the team are patiently training him up to be slightly less pathetic. This is a long process because evolving him is gonna take Entirely Too Fucking Many whale candies but we’ll get there in the end. He’s a nice boy and worth the effort.

Mac and Havarti: Havarti is a kind of cheese. I named my heterosexual birds Mac and Cheese. Havarti is a pidgeotto and also highkey the BEST pokemon I’ve ever caught (three stars, 100% on all stats, hell yeah), which was convenient because she was also my first pidgey and I made her canon before I figured out the “appraise” feature. She is the buffest bird on the entire earth. Mac is her Excessively Tiny spearow husband. Havarti has distinctive violently protective girlfriend tendencies. Mac is steadily and determinedly training so that he can fight alongside his giant buff wife and I think that’s very valid of them both.

Galileo and Copernicus: A pair of male rattatta. They are excellent mouse husbands. Galileo is more of a tank, and Copernicus is more DPS. They like to train for health and enjoyment, and take great pleasure in a good, hearty battle just for the sake of it, but get anxious and frightened if placed in the position of having to have a battle for genuinely high stakes.

Haven and Respite: My very good lesbian dogs. Haven (......once I can like, catch a good female to be her, shhh, she’s totally here just go with it) is a growlithe, and Respite is a poochyena. Respite is brave and defiant but never had a trainer or a team behind her, and as a result of having to fight on her own for so long has a tense, wary personality and doesn’t trust strangers much. Haven comes from a competitive battling background and left because she didn’t like it; the constant sense of needing to win or prove herself wore her down (her trainer was very competitive, though she was released willingly with no hard feelings when it became obvious that they needed very different things to be happy), and she got tired of the hostility. She still practices to keep her skills up and is happy to help train others, but reserves all-out battling for situations where it’s important--to defend the people she cares about, not just for the sake of the fight itself.

Beacon: One of the few true resident fighters, alongside Mac and Havarti, Beacon is the Umbreon I just evolved this morning and am very excited about. He’s gentle, but ruthless in a fight and by far the most dangerous of the group. I don’t know much about where he came from before he presented himself to us, but I suspect that like Haven, he comes from a competitive background; unlike Haven he doesn’t bother with honor. Beacon is a fan of the preemptive strike and the book of dirty tricks, and is very protective of weaker people and pokemon. I suspect that he also left a trainer behind, and that his previous experiences were significantly more negative than Haven’s simple dissatisfaction.

Canonically, training teams/battle groups would be Havarti/Buckler/Mac or Galileo/Copernicus/Buckler, in the case of having a good clean fight for the sake of it; Haven, Respite, and Beacon are the ones who’d step forward if something goes very wrong. The difference between “Hell yeah, let’s do this!” and “Everyone get behind me.”

#love Haven #love to actually acquire her someday #you know what im gonna start. tagging. my #pokemon blogging #to spare all these innocent people #I DIDN'T WANT THIS #I DIDN'T WANT THIS BUT HERE I AM #GIVING MY POKEMON TRAGIC BACKSTORIES

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lovepersists2 · 5 years

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she can vividly recall a time where she’d relished in each and every event attended, the way it’d made her feel so important to be around important people, even if it’s always been her goal. just finally being there, seeing all the hard work she’d put in come to fruition, even in ways so small as fundraising dinners back in college, where she’d been wooed and courted by some of the best law firms in the country. god, it’d felt good, and truly? she misses that rush. that excitement. now they’re nothing but dull. the same people, over and over again, and now they feel…. less important. small. that could very well have to do with the fact that mellie herself is considered far more important than most of them. she’s not just the top of her class at harvard, then yale law. she’s not just a political nobody, biding her time, as nothing more than arm-candy to a man who’d never appreciated her. she’s here, riding high, president of the united states. just thinking that makes her feel giddy, with a sense of joy and fulfillment she couldn’t have imagined even five years ago. she’s here, and successful, and happy, and free, and — damn bored by all the old white men who keep trying so hard to kiss her ass.

everybody wants something. even if it’s just bragging rights, to be able to say they talked to her, it’s almost impossible to find a single person without motive to talk to at any sort of mixer, or party, let alone a fundraiser. and the most irritating part of it all? that she can’t let her intense boredom shine through. she has to seem genuinely interested and invested in each repetitive conversation, when all she’d like to be doing right now is…. just about anything else. even reading through all the briefings and files and requests she knows are waiting for her back in the residence.

the worst part of all this? mellie finds herself wishing she were married. not to anyone in particular, and not for any reason one might think ( she’s damn lonely, of course, but in this moment that’s not the itch that begs most to be scratched ). no, she wishes she were married in order to pawn off a husband on all the people she just can’t bring herself to talk to, for whatever reason. for instance, the senator who’s kept her occupied for what feels like a thousand years. mellie’s not even sure what it is they’re discussing anymore ( or rather, what it is he’s trying to lobby for, as she knows the game well enough to see through any ploy that might suggest anyone wants anything else from her these days ), but he’s yet to see through that.

her smile remains, as false as it ever is in the midst of a crowd like this, though eyes scan the room in a somewhat desperate search for anyone who might rescue her from this never ending nightmare of a conversation. maybe she shouldn’t complain so much, even in her own mind, but it’s been a long day — shouldn’t she be allowed to find herself annoyed with the lack of interesting conversation at a party hosted in her own home? she’s about to lie and politely excuse herself on account of some mystery person on the other side of the room who’s bound to conveniently disappear the moment anyone else goes to look, but that’s before things get mildly more interesting.

finally — finally — someone takes the bait, holding eye contact with her for more than a second before looking away with any array of facial expressions that she tries not to take offense at. in a surprising turn of events, it’s somebody far more interesting than some old white male senator who thinks he can win her over simply due to her short stint in the senate that catches her eye. thank god. in fact, mellie notes, as she excuses herself and determinedly sets off toward the woman she knows she recognizes ( but keeping all these names straight on top of everything else is next to impossible ), she may very well be headed to speak with the single most interesting person in the room. pausing only briefly, she snatches two flutes of champagne off a passing tray, offering a sincere thank you to the person carrying it before she’s off again.

“you looked like you might like a drink,” mellie notes, determining it the most casual way to start a conversation, “and i thought it might be an appropriate way to thank you for helping to rescue me from what was — between you and i? — maybe the most boring conversation i’ve had in my entire life.”

and for the first time all evening, she notices her smile is completely genuine.

MINERVA GENERALLY ENJOYED PARTIES. lovely food, lovely people, lovely drinks…everything this gathering was lacking. it was one of the pitfalls of her status. it wasn’t something she did often, but sometimes her face was simply was what needed at an affair. a woman worth more money than every other patron combined, her presence merely for the headlines. time spend dodging white men who summoned the same questions over and over – was she truly an american if she was from london? was she really a lesbian or just waiting for the right man? and countless others that caused minerva to lose braincells.

minerva had been LINGERING near the wall, having finished another glass of wine. having already lost count of how many she had drank. no where near drunk, but far from sober, the only thing getting her through the evening. beginning to look for the nearest exit to slip out of, and make her DARING ESCAPE. wanting nothing more than to be free of the testosterone filled hell she had been in all night. to eat something that’s bigger than the size of a coin, and drink something that will actually give her a buzz. if this is what americans considered a party, perhaps she needed to spend more time in england.

she’s merely looking around, seeing if there’s anyone she even begins to recognize. politics were not something she generally engaged in. a woman whose loyalty lied between two countries, both as COMPLEX as the other, and she had no time nor the energy to keep up with either, let alone both. peering at the crowd with curiosity and almost disgust. most of them were complete strangers. once you’ve seen one old white man in a black suit with an american flag pin, they begin to blend together. the only person she can put a name to the face is president grant – who minerva didn’t even realize was in attendance until their gazes met. minerva’s eyes instinctively darting to the side, fiddling with her empty glass. almost feeling a blush come over thin cheeks. it wasn’t a usual feeling she held; feeling tall and lanky, out of place. a wallflower on the edge. but it was better than pretending to give a damn about some state she’d never heard of’s governor asking her how she feels about topics she had no INTEREST in.

she doesn’t notice at first who was coming over, only GLANCING up quickly at the feeling of the presence walking up. minerva quickly shoving her phone back into her pocket of dark suit pants. having been frantically checking the time, or seeing if perhaps she had been texted an EXCUSE to leave. but tightened, anxious shoulders lower when she realizes who it is, and finds herself smiling for the first time in god only knew how long. already a big more comfortable in the presence of a woman ( and someone she had actually voted for. )

“ anytime, my dear. always happy to be of service. ” minerva can’t help but to laugh, raising the glass in a toast to the president. sipping the champagne happily. the most enjoyable beverage she had indulged in all night. “ I will argue thought that you look like you need one more. I don’t know how the hell you do it, how you MANAGE it. why do you think I’m hiding in the fucking corner? ” her voice goes down into a hush, giggling a bit.

she thinks she likes this woman, though whether that’s the fact that she’s one of the few women in the room or something else is yet to be determined. right now, though? mellie’s glad for the respite from the panderers. she’s glad she’d made a correct call here, in thinking this woman might be a place to rest, to let her guard down — if only for a moment or two. and truly? she’s glad for a genuine moment to stop and take a drink. ah, alcohol: her one reliable friend. okay, that’s sad, and she knows it the moment it crosses her mind.

“you know, i don’t think i know how i manage it either. it’s practically instinct at this point,” with a career made in politics, parties like these are second nature. she’s so used to them. first at a governor’s wife, then first lady, onto senator, and now president. it’s been something of a whirlwind, and it’s funny to think that with any number of small changes in life choices, mellie might be on the other side of things here. still an attorney, or maybe a senator; if she’d managed to be lucky enough to find a team to help her get elected. for all that she’d said and done to imply fitz had ruined her life, it’s true, at least, that she very likely wouldn’t be here without him. without his name.

“god, if i could get away with hiding in a corner, i’d probably have joined you a while ago,” she can already sense eyes trying subtly to glance in their direction — surely looking for the chance to swoop in and steal her away. she brings her drink to her lips, taking maybe a longer drink than is entirely ‘proper’, but it feels necessary to brace herself just in case. “sometimes being the center of attention is more exhausting than some people realize. but i’m sure you know that feeling well enough,”

minerva takes note of the ever growing sensation of eyes upon them. even a camera flash or two. their conversation would be tomorrow morning’s headline, she could see it now. two of the most powerful women in the world conversing over wine, what on earth could they be dicussing? politics? world peace? no — hatred of the very situations their status forced them to enjoy. being watched like zoo animals. it wasn’t easy to ignore, it never was. so casually, she sidesteps naturally a few inches to the left. expertly blocking mellie from line of sight. eyebrows lifting with a smirk. her height had its advantages.

an exhaled breath escapes her nose, with some sort of a sad smile. it was true. and oh, how she hated being called out on it. for it was a feeling she hated more than anything, and she would not wish on even her most hated enemy. let alone a lovely person such as her. “ people assume that being at the top means you’re freer. but in reality, the chains grow tighter. ” it was solemn, yes, but she was never one to stray from the truth. no matter how bitter it tasted upon ones tongue.

minerva hums into another prolonged sip, shaking her head whilst doing so. suddenly feeling quite silly and rude. “ where on earth on my manners, darling? – min. ” her hand extends outward towards her. the softest of smiles crossing crimson lips. it was a rare occasion minerva truly could introduce herself to someone who didn’t already know her name. this interaction was no different, but it was the principle of it. especially as to her, she wasn’t minerva allory. she just wanted to be min. “ it’s so lovely to meet you. ”

she doesn’t even notice it anymore, the way everyone in the general vicinity stops to glance in her direction the moment she initiates a conversation with someone new, hoping she might drop whatever she’s doing to give way to their stares. of course, mellie’s sure she’s immune to that at this point in her career — at the very least, she’s absolutely determined not to forget that she holds the power. it’s a feeling she’s not quite used to, after so long spent utterly powerless, but it’s one mellie’s absolutely certain she likes ( it’s not what she’s here for, but it’s a bonus, there’s no denying that ). it doesn’t escape her notice, the way minerva so subtly moves to block her from the majority of the crowd. it’s the sort of small gesture that doesn’t feel so small, and one thing’s for sure: she knows she already likes this woman.

there’s something so validating about knowing another person — another woman — knows so well how she feels. fitz gets it, sure, but mellie’s not entirely prepared for any sort of relationship with her ex-husband beyond what it needs to be. for now that relationship is limited to alternating custody of teddy, and she’s satisfied with that, even though there are days where she’s tempted to speak to him about her feelings. maybe that would make her not feel so alone. maybe. but for now she needs her space. giving way to her loneliness feels too much to her like giving him power over her all over again. despite the aptly named chains that leave her feeling so trapped, mellie’s never felt more understood than she has in this moment. “it’s lonely,” she agrees, her solemnity matching the other woman’s perfectly, “it’s impossible to understand just how lonely until you’re in the middle of it. but there’s something reassuring about meeting anyone else who does get it,” and for that, if that alone, this evening has been entirely worth it.

somehow, despite having just met minerva, it feels as though there’s already a bond between them. maybe it’s in her head, but something about sitting here speaking with another woman in a position of power is invigorating. it’s powerful. and, for a moment, mellie lets herself wonder if they might end up friends. god knows she could use more of those. or…. any of those, really. an easy smile ( perhaps the most genuine of the evening ) spreads across her lips as she takes the other woman’s hand, offering a firm shake. “it’s a pleasure to meet you, min.” and it is. it really is. mellie’s aware that there’s not a single person in this room who isn’t well aware of who she is, but it feels instinctual to introduce herself. and for the first time tonight, her smile grows as she excitedly returns the gesture, gladly referring to herself by name rather than occupation, “mellie. i’m mellie.”

#muse. ┊ mellie grant!#ic. ┊ writing!#thread. ┊ crimscnmalice; mellie & minerva 001!

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henrysuglychildren · 5 years

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I made minecraft ocs!!! Because wow I’ve gotten heavily into the game as of late. I have a couple more i wanna make and one more i need to draw but for now have these babies. Bios under cut.

Name: Ludo Lodomorph Mob: Enderman Size: 2.9blcs. Gender(Pronouns): Unimale( he/him, both physical sexes ) Bio: An Enderman trying to make something of himself in the Overworld, having fun adventures with his friends and getting into trouble. The straightman/down to earth one of the group, usually playing babysitter to the others shenanigans. Very humble and gentle, wants to find inner peace. Stats: 40hp, 4ATK* Powers: Teleportation; Can teleport anywhere he has been before or can see from his current location. Endermode; jaw opens, claws and spikes grow on his body, and his attack strength jumps to *7ATK. Usually only uses this ability to scare away enemies, he doesn't like to hurt others. Notes: -Pacifist; Would only cause harm intentionally if he absolutely had to. -Would probably only play minecraft on creative. -Cannot touch water; water burns his skin like acid. -Can purr -Wears a purple rope and iron-bead neck adornment, just cause its pretty. The rope is made of Chorus Flower fibers and the beads are made of a very fine steel.

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Name: "Pickles" "Tacky-pants" "Cactus-green" Remerez. Mob: Creeper Size: 1.5blcs Gender(Pronouns): Nulmale( he/him, no physical gender. ) Bio: A young and runty Creeper, a wacky lil fella with a lolrandom sense of humor, quirky style, and very cheerful outlook on life. Hes weird, and something of an outcast to most other mods, but to his friend group hes the wacky fun to every outing. But he feels very lonely, and his biggest fear is to be left behind by his friends. But hes just so full of love and joy, its hard for others not to have a fondness for him, once they choose to get to know him. Stats: 20hp, 1ATK. Powers: Explode; blows up his body, dealing up to 49DMG. Charge; if given an electrical current, he becomes a charged Creeper, and using the Explode ability deals up to 97DMG. Regenerate; After exploding, the body will slowly regenerate. It takes one moon cycle for the body to regenerate. Notes: -Probably voiced by Weird Al -Likes wearing socks -A little bit of a balance issue -Comedy relief -Based on plants. Comes from a headcanon I have that Creepers are made of the tree leaves.

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Name: Anlace Fletcher Mob: Skeleton Size: 2blcs Gender(Pronouns): Nulfemale( she/her, no physical gender ) Bio: A baddass sharp-shooting babe. She acts like an anime character a lot, totally reveling in combat and using her bow, often to the point where she will fight for any reason. She has anger issues, and a bit of an ego. She had a lot of hubris. But shes loyal to her friends and family, and would throw massive hands for someone she cares about. Pretty edgy, too. Stats: 20hp, 1-4ATK, 4AER Powers: N/A; skeletons rely on their skill more than magic. Notes: -Will burn in direct sunlight; but if wearing a thick enough cloak and hood she can quickly move through sunlight to patches of shade. -Youngest of a huge family of skeletons. -Chronic lesbian -Her AER( Accuracy Error ) is lower than average( 6 on normal difficulty ) because of her skill and training.

Name: Skitter Pulchara Mob: Spider Size: 1blc high, 2blcs wide. Gender(Pronouns): Unifemale( she/her, both physical sexes ) Bio: A sensitive and intelligent girl, shes the resident meganerd and magic expert. Shes very emotionally in-tune and almost tries to play psychiatrist to her friends. She has self esteem issues and gets a LOT of joy and self-worth when she goes on adventures with her friends. Absolute sweetheart. Stats: 16hp, 2ATK Powers: Wall-climbing; Can climb up most surfaces, evening hanging upside-down on the ceiling. Webs; can spin webs which ensnare prey or enemies. Magic; well versed in all forms of Minecraft magic, from potion-making to enchantment. Notes: -Scared of the dark; In very low-light, she becomes much more jittery, anxious, and hostile due to the fear. -Near sighted; wears glasses on her main pair of eyes -Cries often -Her and Anlace often team-up( Spider-jockey hohoh ) in combat, because shes much faster than Anlace but weaker. So they combine their strengths! -Based off Grammostola pulchra "Brazilian Black Tarantula"

#my art #my ocs #fancharacters #minecraft #enderman #creeper #skeleton #spider

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lenny-summers · 5 years

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Tagged by @johnseedsplane thanks my lover!

The rules are simple! Tag people and name a character you want to know more about! If you want to let the person you tagged decide who to showcase, then don’t name a character and they can pick somebody. Easy! The person who is tagged will then bold the remarks below which apply to their character &, if they want to, include a picture with their reply!

I tag @thatjessopgirl @deputyoneill @johnathot-seed @nighttimeloser but don’t do it if ya dont’t wanna!

A lesbian and her goth gf

Thalia Goudier

[ PERSONAL ]

$ Financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty

Growing up in Manchester with a single mum wasn't exactly a lucrative deal, and moving to America only worsened her financial situation. Rent, food, education, it all pilled up. That’s why she took the deputy job, it beat cleaning up bathrooms in the local bar.

✚ Medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged / non applicable

✪ Class or Caste: upper / middle / working / street trash / slave / unsure

Local Mancunians pride themselves on being working class, for the people by the people. Thalia never much liked upper class folks, snobby, always throwing away money on frivolous things, never made any sense to her.

✔ Education: qualified / unqualified / studying

✖ Criminal Record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but not caught yet / yes, but charges were dismissed

She had a tough upbringing, she had to do what was needed to survive. The local bakers had taken to her and gave her day old bread, but it was never enough.

[ FAMILY ]

◒ Children: has a child or children (it’s complicated) / has no children / wants children

The love of her life, her Danaë. She was 5 when they moved over to Montana, in search for a dream that never came.

Thalia was only 19 when she was pregnant, just some random guy she met in a bar after a match. She was entirely conflicted about whether to keep it or not, so much so that it made her ill. She passed out in the middle of the street and woke up in maternity unit, they told her the baby was strong, a fighter, just like she was.

◑ Relationship with Family: close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling is deceased

◔ Affiliation: orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent(s) / raised by a single parent

Thalia truly loved her mother, even despite the fact that she was never around. She respected her dedication to trying to make her daughters life better. Working 3 jobs, being harassed by drunk old men and even working at Old Trafford, Giselle Gouldier did everything in her power to put food on the table.

[ TRAITS + TENDENCIES ]

♦ extroverted / introverted / in between

In her line of work she doesn't really get to be introverted, her up-bringing helped with opening her up. Growing up in a rough area meant she had to be able to stand her ground.

♦ dis-organized / organized / in between

♦ close minded / open-minded / in between

♦ calm / anxious / in between

Ever since she moved to Montana shes been riddled with anxiety, terrified that she wouldn't be able to give her daughter what she needed. That worry stayed with her for years.

♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in between

♦ cautious / reckless / in between

♦ patient / impatient / in between

♦ outspoken / reserved / in between

Being a deputy (and a City fan) meant she had to be able to speak clearly and concisely to everyone. Being shy and reserved would of made her job incredible hard, she wasn’t exactly threatening but having a strong voice meant residents respect her more.

♦ leader / follower / in between

♦ empathetic / vicious bastard / in between

Despite everything shes been through, she still has a soft heart. Always wanting to talk things over rather than resorting to violence, she never found it necessary to wave a glock in someones face, if anything it almost always escalated the situation.

It was so hard for Thalia to close off her heart and become violent when she came to Eden’s Gate, it made her feel like she wasn’t any better than them. She knew that its an eye for an eye but, with that logic the whole world goes blind.

♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in between

♦ traditional / modern / in between

♦ hard-working / lazy / in between

Being from a working class background, she never got the option to be lazy. As soon as she turned 15 she was working, washing cars, tidying houses, whatever made her money. She never let herself breath, always throwing herself into whatever she was being paid to do, she quickly became over worked and managed to get herself ill with stress, but even then she still stupidly carried on.

This working habit didn’t do her any favours with the resistance, constantly going back and forth between the Whitetail Militia and Whitehorse for things to do. She’d constantly fall asleep at the wheel, and even just passed out from exhaustion in the mountains. Mary-May had to force her to take a break, it was only after that she began to slow herself down.

♦ cultured / uncultured / in between / unknown

♦ loyal / disloyal / unknown

Whether it was to her country or to her football team, Thalia always remained loyal. She found a lot of people faked loyalty for personal gain, this in her eyes was wrong. She often called people out on it, and they threatened her to keep quiet. She never did.

♦ faithful / unfaithful / unknown

[ BELIEFS ]

★ Faith : monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic

☆ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits : yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

✮ Belief in an Afterlife : yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

✯ Belief in Reincarnation : yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

❃ Belief in Aliens : yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

✧ Religious : orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious

❀ Philosophical : yes / no / sometimes

[ SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION ]

❤ Sexuality: heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / complicated, very very complicated

❥ Sex: sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable/ naive and clueless

♥ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable / naive and clueless / romance suspicious

❣ Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious

⚧ Potential Sexual Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all / depends

⚧ Potential Romantic Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all / depends

[ ABILITIES ]

☠ Combat Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none / it’s complicated

≡ Literacy Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

✍ Artistic/Music Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

The one thing Thalia is good at, singing. Always the first to audition for her school plays, always singing loudly to 80′s songs with Sharky.

She loved the thrill she got the first time she sang at the Spread Eagle, everyone staring and clapping along to the song. Thalia found that as Holland Valley was cut off from the rest of the state, she could sing songs and pass them off as her own and they were none the wiser.

She put on countless shows and musicals, it was the one good thing she had during that bleak time. The Seed’s often would send Peggies to record it so they could listen, Joseph never approved of the lyrics. Jacob would often put it on before he went to bed, he always told Staci it bored him enough to make him fall asleep, but her voice made him feel calm and safe.

✂ Technical Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

She’s gay, she has no technical skills whatsoever. Sometimes when her car breaks down she wines over the radio for Nick to come fix it. One time he said he couldn’t and Thalia just left her car in the middle of the road and walked back to Fall’s End.

#i was in the mood to add some backstory i hope yall enjoy asdfghj #please tell me what you though fhewfwegh #me: berates the north constantly and always saying how much i hate it #also me: here are two oc's that are from manchester and they would murder the entire united team if given the chance sdfg #anyway asdfgh that u sm for the tag my angel!#my ocs #far cry 5 #my deputy #thalia goudier

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wilefire · 5 years

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ʟᴏʀᴅ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴀᴍᴇ

Art by Benz

[ BASICS ]

Age: 31

Race: Troll, half Darkspear, half Frostmane.

Gender: Cis-female

Sexuality: Lesbian

Marital Status: Single

Server: WrA

[ APPEARANCE ]

Hair: Ice-blue

Eyes: Red

Height: 7′2″

Build: Built simultaneously like a whip and a brick shithouse.

Distinguishing Marks: Beauty mark in the right corner of her lips, scar on the same side.

Common Accessories: Feathers, gold, khol.

[ PERSONAL ]

Profession: Gladiator, bodyguard, and secret romance novelist.

Hobbies: Writing poetry, reading sappy love stories, making sure Myth eats as much chocolate as she can handle, crushing on pretty girls, and spending time with her Falcosaurs.

Languages: Common, Orcish, Zandali.

Residences: Nomadic.

Birthplace: Dun Morogh.

Religion: Reveres Gonk.

Fears: Having her heart broken, social interaction in general.

[ RELATIONSHIPS ]

Spouse: None.

Children: None.

Parents: Unknown.

Siblings: Unknown.

Other Relatives: Unknown.

Pets: Madi the Falcosaur chick and her mother, Ava.

[ TRAITS ]

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

[ VICES ]

Smoking Habit: Smokes both socially and to alleviate anxiety.

Drugs: Only harmless drugs, like Peacebloom.

Alcohol: Rarely.

[ HOOKS ]

Looking for work! Does your character need a tried and tested arena veteran to guard their home, possessions, and person—without asking any stupid questions? If so, Keekoo is your girl... for the right price, of course. (Unless you're a fair and lovely noble maiden. Keekoo is very bad at denying fair and lovelies anything they might ask of her, especially if they are in immediate danger. Loa forbid you come to her with anything as mildly serious as a papercut, and bam! You've got yourself an instant devotee for life, hellbent on seeing to it that you are never harmed again.)

A new arena master for Keekoo. This would be someone who purchased her to fight, whether in illegitimate underground arenas or far more savory venues.

Fellow gladiators in the same arena team. Don't have to actually PVP to play this out, but we'll bop around some in-game arenas and have all sorts of wonderful adventures!

Open to all types of characters. Any Horde race. Cross-faction! Grumpy characters, genki girls, mute dudes, chatterboxes, rotten zombies, beauty queens, anything at all goes!

[ LOOKING FOR ]

In-game walk-ups and long-term RP partners.

Pre-existing relationships, especially in the vein of fellow gladiators. It would be cool to find long-lost family as well!

Discord RP and In-Game RP

Fellow shipper trash just like myself.

[ OOC ]

Name: Asha

Gender: Cis-female.

Things you should know about me: I work-work-work-work-work-work, so I can be slow to reply during the day / when not in-game. Still, the best way to ensure you get routine posts from me is via Discord. I’m always down for a good, leisurely Discord RP.

I have been writing all of my life, RPing for around 20 years, and I’m a published novelist. While I have all kinds of experience with writing, I am more than happy to help out someone who is just starting out. I do not discriminate against ESL or inexperienced RP partners. As long as you can hook me into what we’re doing, we are golden.

I work best with RP partners who want to communicate OOC! Scream about your characters at me, vent about your day, whatever. I want to like you as much as I like your character.

I am, at heart, lowly shipper trash. If you want to ship your character with Keekoo, chances are that I do too. (Only taking female characters now, sorry!)

[ CONTACT ]

Discord: asha#3471

Server: WrA

Timezone: Eastern Standard Time

Tumblr DM: ashanoir.tumblr.com

#wyrmrest rp #wyrmrest accord #warcraft rp #wra roleplay #wra rp

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nebris · 6 years

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The Babies at the Fringes of Fertility Tech

Beyond the reach of U.S. law, doctors are changing the way babies are made

It’s 10:30 p.m. in Kyiv, Ukraine, and Dr. Valery Zukin is at the hospital with a patient who needs emergency surgery. The patient is 31 weeks pregnant and has intestinal obstruction — a rare complication that’s potentially fatal in pregnant women. Zukin says the situation is under control, but he’s exhausted, and the stakes are high.

Earlier that day, Zukin had been at a fertility conference in Barcelona, where his groundbreaking fertility treatments made him and his colleagues the stars of the show. Now he’s sitting in a pale-yellow room at the Leleka Maternity Hospital, where he is CEO. Zukin is conferring with a team of doctors about how to save the young woman’s life — and her baby’s.

Zukin is accustomed to this kind of emergency. He’s one of the first embryologists in Ukraine, and as a leader in assisted reproductive technology, he’s part of a small cadre of doctors specializing in a revolutionary fertility technology known as mitochondrial replacement techniques (MRT). It’s promise: to make healthy babies possible for couples who are infertile or carry debilitating genetic disorders.

Though tonight’s patient got pregnant the old-fashioned way, Zukin and his colleagues are breaking new ground in radical fertility tech what seems like every other month. No stranger to controversy, Dr. John Zhang, Zukin’s partner at the aptly named clinic Darwin Life-Nadiya, is the first-known scientist to help a woman give birth to a baby who has three genetic parents using one of these techniques. In the United States, where Zhang works, the technique is regulated by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and is illegal — so Zhang went to Mexico.

Using MRT, Zhang created the embryo in New York and then flew back to Mexico with the fertilized egg and implanted it in a patient there. The announcement of the baby’s birth in 2016 rattled the world, but the blowback hasn’t deterred them. Zukin and Zhang are already working on the next crop of so-called three-parent babies — they’re just doing it beyond the short arm of U.S. law, in places like Ukraine and Mexico.

Forty years after the birth of Louise Brown, the first “test-tube baby,” we are living in a golden age of fertility tech.

To date, at least five babies who have the DNA of three people have been born using MRT (and at least one is a girl, which means that her genome changes will be heritable). Experts don’t know if there other MRT babies are out there, but with ongoing regulated clinical trials of the techniques in the UK, there may soon be more.

Forty years after the birth of Louise Brown, the first “test-tube baby,” we are living in a golden age of fertility tech. Even its detractors agree that MRT is an astonishing development in medical science — human genetic engineering in action. And it’s just one among a rash of new fertility techniques that stand to fundamentally change how humans procreate: live-donor uterus transplants, preimplantation genetic testing and selection, egg freezing, hyperprecise in vitro fertilization (IVF), CRISPR genome editing, in vitro gametogenesis (which uses reverse-engineered stem cells to make eggs and sperm from men), and the list goes on.

The U.S. government has made it clear it has no interest in approving MRT anytime soon, stalling the industry stateside, but the international fertility industry is booming. Medical tourism is a global market valued at $68 billion, and experts say a growing portion of that business comes from people traveling overseas to get frontier fertility treatments that are illegal at their home base. There’s no data on how many women from the United States travel abroad for fertility treatments, but experts think medical tourism already explains why some countries, such as Denmark, Spain, and Israel, have double the rate of babies born from reproductive tech than the United States.

“Sometimes it’s the people with an unusual vision who change the world,” Zukin says.

MRT is controversial, no doubt. It’s unregulated in most parts of the world, and many contend that it’s unethical. But the babies are coming anyway.

Embryo research has been progressing swiftly since IVF became a household concept 20 years ago. Technology like preimplantation genetic diagnosis (PGD) has allowed doctors to make sure the embryos that are implanted after IVF are of high quality, which has been shown in limited studies to improve the outcome of a pregnancy.

“If you look at the success of fertility therapies in 2018 compared to 10 years ago and compared to 10 years prior to that, the success has been exponential,” says David Ryley, a pioneering fertility specialist in Boston, Massachusetts. According to some research, this technique has raised the IVF live birth rate to nearly 70 percent, compared to IVF without PGD.

Ryley’s clinic, Boston IVF, has been a leading fertility center for more than 30 years. The clinic claims to have been the first in New England to help a lesbian couple get pregnant; in 1998, it was the first clinic to help a gay male couple have a baby via surrogate. The clinic also achieved a number of other firsts, including the first donor egg pregnancy in New England and the first birth in Massachusetts to result from a frozen egg back in 2006.

“When I was in residency back in the ’80s, you’d be lucky if you had a live birth rate of 10 percent,” Ryley says. As for the more out-there techniques underway, he adds, “I don’t mean to sound like a typical American, but in my opinion, more well-controlled, well-regulated research needs to be done. But is it exciting, especially for these people who suffer from these terrible disorders? Absolutely it’s exciting.”

Still, barriers exist. Another form of mitochondrial replacement, known as cytoplasmic transfer (CT), was banned by the FDA in 2001 because of a worry that it may lead to chromosomal abnormalities, which could result in birth defects.

For infertile couples or women who have endured multiple miscarriages, MRT represents another chance at having a child to whom they’re genetically related.

There are other reasons frontier fertility research doesn’t happen much stateside. The first is known as the Dickey-Wicker Amendment, an appropriations rider that bans federal funding for research that involves destroying embryos (which happens in nearly all embryo-related research). The amendment is included in the annual federal budget and has been renewed every year since 1996. Bioconservatives, pro-lifers, and many prominent American bioethicists continue to stand by the Dickey-Wicker Amendment.

In 2016, another congressional rider was added to the budget that prohibits the FDA from even accepting research applications for embryo research that would include editing the human germline, a move Stanford bioethicist Hank Greely called “dumb” at the time. It is similarly illegal to create a genetically modified embryo, which the FDA considers MRT embryos to be. Meanwhile, public opinion on the topic is shifting, with the majority of U.S. adults saying they think gene editing that treats serious congenital diseases is appropriate.

The UK has seen its own political brouhaha around MRT, but the results have been different. In 2015, Parliament gave the green light to begin the process of setting up a regulatory framework for clinics to provide MRT for couples with mitochondrial disease, a model that has been adopted in Australia and Singapore. As a result, legal, regulated three-person British babies are expected to be born anytime now.

MRT and techniques like it are the result of progress in other areas of fertility research — namely, what goes wrong, and when, in the development of a fetus. Mitochondrial diseases, which can vary in severity, are among the most lethal genetic diseases, because they are rare and there are no cures. They are also passed along the matrilineal line, through mitochondrial DNA. In the United States, fewer than 4,000 babies are born every year with mitochondrial diseases; the other fetuses simply don’t make it that far.

For infertile couples or women who have endured multiple miscarriages, MRT represents another chance at having a child to whom they’re genetically related.

“A deputy [in the government] asked me if anyone has confirmed MRT is safe for the baby. I said, ‘Nobody has confirmed it.’”

There are at least three ways to split an ovum, or human egg, to separate the mitochondria from the nucleus. Zhang used maternal spindle transfer for the baby born in Mexico, while Zukin specializes in something called pronuclear transfer. Both techniques are legal in the UK for experimental treatments.

Zukin’s particular arrangement in Ukraine is cloudier. There are no explicit laws permitting the procedures, so he’s operating under a kind of gentlemen’s agreement with the Ukrainian government rather than an official regulatory pass. “We received special permission for clinical trials,” Zukin says. “A deputy [in the government] asked me if anyone has confirmed MRT is safe for the baby. I said, ‘Nobody has confirmed it.’”

Zukin says the data from his clinical experiments will provide the basis for the parliamentary decision on whether it will officially sanction or prohibit MRT. “If we have any confirmation that [MRT] is risky for babies’ health, it will be prohibited. If it is safe for the babies, and the babies are healthy, we will allow it,” he says.

Zukin says he has assisted in the birth of four healthy babies, is working with three pregnant women, and is about to start working with four more. His patients declined to be interviewed for this article. Zukin’s clinic is private. He charges up to the U.S. equivalent of $15,000 per cycle.

Zukin’s work has fertility specialists and ethicists around the world anxious — but excited.

Sarah Chan, a prominent bioethicist at University of Edinburgh who has published several papers on MRT, says that although Zukin’s experiments raise a lot of red flags, “If we never did anything, we’d never do anything.”

In the international fertility industry, the private market rules, with clinics like Zukin’s operating in regulatory gray areas. While the UK, Singapore, and Australia have announced plans to begin regulating the procedures soon, the dearth of options still means that nearly everyone who wants to try MRT is left with one choice: to shell out for plane tickets to foreign countries and pay whatever those doctors charge for a chance at a baby.

This, of course, raises the thorny question of who gets to access these technologies in the first place.

Zukin claims patients from Brazil, Israel, Sweden, China, and the United States — but he refuses to treat gay people out of his personal beliefs. (A spokesperson for the Darwin Life-Nadiya Clinic said that Zukin’s refusal to treat gay people does not reflect the company’s policies. A rep for Zhang says he believes that everyone who wants to should be able to have a baby.)

The Nuffield Council for Bioethics, the UK’s unofficial national bioethics body, wrote a report on MRT in 2014 that suggested that lesbian and other same-sex couples with female reproductive organs could use MRT to create genetically related offspring in the future.

“I do think that going forward, who this technology is provided to, and who decides this, is a concern,” says Edinburgh bioethicist Chan. “In the UK, all cases would be regulated through the national regulators. It wouldn’t be up to the whims of a particular clinician to say, ‘Well, I’m going to treat you, but I’m not going to treat you.’ If we are concerned about equitable access without discrimination to developing health care technologies, then we do have a concern about who gets their hands on them and who is enabled to do them,” Chan says.

Experts like Chan, Ryley, and many others in the field, myself included, believe that in order for these technologies to be equitably distributed, any couple, regardless of their sexual orientation, health status, or income, must be able to access them safely.

“I am sure that sooner or later, the FDA will approve of this treatment, after we have confirmation of the healthy status of the babies,” Zukin says.

In the meantime, two facts remain: Regulators aren’t doing a good job of keeping up with the science, and people who want babies will do nearly anything to get them.

Update: An earlier version of this piece incorrectly identified where the first MRT embryo was created. It was created in New York, and implanted in Mexico. This piece has also been updated to reflect Zhang’s position on treating gay patients.

https://medium.com/s/futurehuman/at-the-fringes-of-fertility-tech-2d3bb749bc65

#The Sisterhood

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