#didn't quite fit with any sets but i liked this portrait anyway

[splitsabers]

Cal Kestis - Star Wars Jedi: Survivor

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Stellar - Prologue, Part I

Prologue: A New Genesis

Three months later...

The late morning was silent, a portrait of complete tranquility. Like a perfect summer, but without the sweat to match. There were no clouds in this sky, no waves on this ocean, no strife on this day. The faint ripples of the sea were all that could be heard nearby.

...is what would be said, were it not for the giant purple aircraft soaring erratically overhead, flying left and right almost as much as it flew straight ahead.

"WHOOOO! Ha-haaa!"

The vessel in question, the SS Tornado EX, performed at an absurd speed for its size, and that wasn't all it had up its sleeve, as shown by the beeline it made towards the ocean below... only to then raise back up at the last second, completely unharmed, and impressively undrenched. About the only absent trick was a full-on barrel roll, as the lack of seatbelts would have presented a problem. Otherwise, nothing was beneath it.

Fortunately for the sealife, this was no reckless flyer... not too reckless, anyway. This glorious machine had seen its day before, and its pilots even moreso. In a change of pace however, it was the older member of the two who had found himself at the driver's helm. As it had been a while, his friend graciously offered him the role. He knew the risks full well, but he trusted him with his life.

After all, who wouldn't trust Sonic the Hedgehog?

"Having fun?" Tails wryly commented, not even shifting his gaze from the brochure he was reading. Despite his young age, he had experienced more than quite a lot of adults. Sonic flying in his own, unique way was like a Tuesday to him.

"You know it!" Sonic confirmed, with a characteristically wide grin. His bliss was downright enviable. "Haven't lost my touch!"

"I never said you did," his friend lightly chuckled.

As the Tornado EX continued its display of aerodynamic showmanship, something caught the corner of the fox's eye. He didn't put his brochure down, but he did glance to his right at the water below. It was shimmering marvellously, which would not be considered an irregularity on its own, but...

"Hey, does the sea look different to you?" Tails asked his partner. The entire time during their journey, it had remained pure blue, as one would expect, yet all of a sudden, the ocean had quietly turned a faint teal, as though it had always been that way. It couldn't have been the conditions either, since the weather hadn't changed at all...

"Huh, it kinda does," Sonic mused, which was followed up with a knowing smirk. "Must be cause we're getting closer! In fact..."

He paused, with a brief squint of the eyes... then nodded eagerly. "Yeah, that's it! That's the one!" He couldn't resist a fist pump. "We made it!"

As they flew closer to their intended destination, its true scope became quickly apparent, which got an impressed whistle out of the hedgehog, and silent awe from the fox. Without question, it was the largest island they had ever seen in their lives. Perhaps it was just as well that this one did not float in the air. Its perimeter, at least what little of it they could see from their direction, was near-completely circular, as though it had been precisely and carefully carved that way, and although no one appeared to be setting off any fireworks, a glowing phenomena seemed to radiate from within.

Viridonia was a more than worthy fit for their chosen vacation. To Sonic, the great thing about the world was that no matter how much of it he had seen in his travels, there was always bound to be something else further beyond. He wouldn't have it any other way.

With a simple push of a button, the Tornado EX slowly, yet rather ostentatiously, folded its wings as the aircraft hit the water for real. With the exception of a single sharp bump, the landing was respectable, much to the internal relief of Tails. As it made its way further towards a visible docking bay, the young heroes both knew they were in for the time of their lives.

In what way, however...

---

After he and Tails double checked that they tied down their ship in a way that wasn't amateur, Sonic turned around and got a first proper, in-depth look at his surrounding. The chalk white sand almost took up his attention all on its own, as did the black railings with their distinguished floral-themed patterns, but the town itself was simply too enticing to ignore.

Lime Shores could be described as walking into another world. Not the past, not the future, but one entirely of its own. It wasn't the largest town Sonic had ever seen, but it didn't need to be in order to make its first impression count. Every building that he could see, though they had a wide selection of colours for roofs, were otherwise a sleepy light blue from top to bottom. The formations that marked the cobblestone ground were a delicate selection of pastel pinks, light turquoises, hazy purples, and sea greens, among others. Shops and stands had been set up that sold all manners of pottery, jewelry, and other bits of pleasure to the senses that didn't match what he had seen anywhere else. It was like stepping into a book, and he would know, since he's done that before.

And throughout all of this, the residents carried on with their day as though it were any other. Animals and humans alike could be seen left and right, which - not counting the hedgehog's own presence in human-populated cities - was not a sight he was used to seeing. Their choice of fashion was equally as varied across the board, each of them with their own untold story. Some of them even looked in Sonic's direction ever so briefly, then carried right along as though he were a regular guy. Not that it particularly mattered to him if they recognized him, since that was never what he was about.

With his hands on his hips, his eyes stayed put on the scene, content with what he saw. As Tails walked up the small flight of steps to join him, the hedgehog could barely hide the joy on his face. He could feel his heart pumping in anticipation of this new venture.

"This is gonna be sweet," he let out with a smile. The sense of wonder found on the fox's face confirmed he was unambiguously feeling it too. "All this for the two of us."

"~Sonic!~"

The smile remained perfectly still on his face. "Oh."

Sonic and Tails turned to their right in unison, as if they didn't already know who it could be, to find none other than Amy Rose, who was currently sprinting over to them in only the way that she could. Her trusted friend, Cream, was tagging along right behind her, as was Cheese the Chao. It would seem that they decided to go for a vacation of their own... right here, of all places. A mere coincidence, right?

"Fancy seeing you here!" Amy beamed, with one hand on her hip, and a finger on her chin. "You didn't tell us you guys were coming here too!"

"Well, uh..." Sonic turned to Tails for a brief moment, to which his orange pal merely shrugged. "I mean, you didn't tell us either... Not that I can blame you for stopping by, cause look at all this!"

"It's so pretty, Mr. Sonic," Cream simply said, with that innocent smile on her face, and her hands clasped.

"Chao!" Cheese gladly agreed.

"As soon as we heard about this place, I knew we HAD to go," Amy explained, as her tail predictably swished to and fro at the sight of her hero. She took another look at the glowing buildings. "It's the perfect little spot... or big spot... and it even kinda has a romantic touch to it-"

Before finishing, she noticed Sonic wordlessly raising an eyebrow, as if he knew exactly what was coming. Sensing this, Amy abruptly cleared her throat.

"Well, anyway, it's great that we're all here," she laughed. "I don't suppose you were planning on doing anything before we turned up?"

"We were just sort of looking around for now," Tails answered, scratching his head awkwardly. "We just got here after all, so we don't know where everything is yet."

"Oh, we only arrived a couple of hours ago, so we're getting used to it too!" The pink hedgehog mischievously smirked at Sonic. "Wanna do it together?"

Sonic took one look at her, and jokingly sighed, complete with rolling his eyes as dramatically as possible. "I GUESS there's no harm," he muttered, though he couldn't help but smirk in turn at his bubbly friend's not-too-subtle determination. "Too bad Knuckles couldn't attend, I think this could have been up his street... or maybe all the blue would have reminded him too much of me."

As the blue hedgehog and his two-tailed partner began to examine the stands in person, for a closer look at what they had to offer, Amy was all too ready to join them. However, upon looking back, she soon stopped in her tracks as she noticed the mild expression of guilt on Cream's face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked out of concern, and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Missing home already?"

The bunny grabbed her left ear out of shame. "I know it's silly of me, because we've been to so many places before... but this is the first time in a while, so I think I might need to get used to it again..."

"Y'know, there's nothing shameful about that," Amy rubbed her shoulder sympathetically. "Tell you what, why don't you have a look around of your own and in your own time, then you can meet back up with the rest of us?"

After mulling it over, and checking for Cheese's input, Cream nodded gently. "That sounds good... but I won't go too far away," she clarified, before the two of them shared a giggle together.

---

"Maybe we could find something for mother," Cream pondered out loud, with some increased elation. "Or maybe a picture would be nice?"

"Chao!" Cheese nodded enthusiastically.

As promised, Cream made sure to not stray too far from her friends. She had been in unfamiliar territory before, and had gotten herself out, but those had a particular urgency to them. To do so on what was meant to be a calming vacation would be the opposite of ideal. As she made her trek, taking mental notes of where certain passing sights were so as to remember them for later, she found herself looking down at the colorful cobblestone more than once. Not without reason.

She hadn't noticed it previously, but now that she was this close, it almost looked… translucent? Maybe that wasn't the right word, it wasn't as though she could see right through it, but despite being a simple stone walkway, it was as though some kind of energy had been quietly streaming right through it, bringing its soft flavors to life.

And now that she thought more about it, the buildings from earlier had a similar thing going on. The more she thought back to them, their colour also looked less like an ordinary coat of paint… Was she imagining things, or was this really how they were? Was there something more to them...?

Before the bunny could give it additional thought, she looked up once more, and found that she was actually in a secluded woodland area now. She wasn't that far deep into it, she could still see the familiar shore from a certain distance behind her, but she immediately took to it. The trees and bushes, of which there were plenty, provided a bountiful mix of dark greens and oranges for their leaves, and inbetween was a modest field of flowers. Some of the flowers in question were similarly orange, while others were either red or yellow.

"Ohhh!" Cream eagerly ran over to them, and kneeled down for a closer look. It was a mystery how she didn't scrape her knees in the process. "They're so beautiful, aren't they? Maybe we could give one for mother, or for Amy! ...Although... what if someone owns them? They might not like us picking them, huh?"

"Chao..." Cheese astutely commiserated.

Regardless of that possibility, it was still a joy for the two of them. She pointed at this flower, that flower, that flower over there, and more or less every other flower. She was certainly caught up in all this, and she had every right to be... even if it made her a target for Metal Sonic.

From a small distance, behind one tree of many, the robot watched the bunny having her fun. Its limbs lowered for a moment, as though it had been taken off guard... as though it had been doing something else before noticing her. Perhaps it did not expect more of the hedgehog's friends to appear on this island. Perhaps it remembered her as one of the culprits that got in its way that one time. Whatever the case, it wouldn't remain an issue for long. An enemy to Eggman is an enemy to Metal Sonic. And there's only one option for pest control.

With the element of surprise, it could have swiped her in a second, before she would have time to realise what had even happened. It knew that. It was more than capable. To witness the look of fear, though... that's a special pleasure. One that would not be sacrificed.

Metal stepped forward, with an alarming absence of sound for such a machine, and slowly closed in on the unassuming duo. As they continued to point out whichever flowers that had tickled their fancy, its left hand scraped its claws against its palm, as if it were hungry, starving, to use those claws on anyone, or anything. As a look of uneasiness suddenly appeared on Cream's face, as though sensing something was amiss, Metal swiftly raised its left claw, waiting sadistically for the moment she turned her head.

*THWIP*

It would not get the desired craving.

Metal jolted, and turned to its left, in a way that heavily suggested something else had distracted it. Yet, there appeared to be no one else in the vicinity. Before Metal could regain its focus, Cream had finally turned, and suffice to say, she was immediately filled with shock. Despite this, she took to a fighting stance rather quickly for her age, with Cheese going as far as to put up his dukes, yet the fright remained present on both of their faces. As Metal took notice of this, it tilted its head, and silently nodded. It was prepared to deal with this silly girl in the old fashioned way. It stretched out its claws, ready for a battle if necessary-

*THWIP*

Metal jolted once again, as though it had dodged something, even though neither Cream or Cheese had laid a hand on it. It looked at her again, and although no emotion could be registered from its permanent glare, something seemed to tick in its head. With a mocking wave, it flew away violently, leaving as quickly as it had arrived. The rabbit looked up in the sky at where the evil doppelganger had vanished, and she couldn't help but be a teensy bit baffled at the whole experience.

"M-...Metal Sonic?" She paused to check her heartbeat. "What was he doing here? Why did he attack us? Is he doing something for Doctor Eggman?"

As soon as she mentioned the scientist, she gasped, and clasped both of her ears at the mere thought of him. "Oh no! Could the doctor be up to bad things again? In this pretty place? We've got to tell our friends about this!"

"Chao! Chao!"

"Huh?"

Cheese lightly tugged on her ear to get her attention, and pointed at one of the trees from nearby. At first, she couldn't tell what she was meant to be looking at, but upon inching closer, it soon became apparent. There was something there that hadn't been there when they had entered. Namely, a pair of arrows, both of them stuck on the same tree.

With a raised eyebrow, she slowly placed her hand on the lower arrow that was stuck, and gently took it off, taking care not to break the arrow outright. As she examined it, the craftmanship stood out to her: not that she would claim to be an expert on that sort of thing, but it was clear even to the casual perspective that this was no simple job. It was finely put together, and the handle even had a specific pattern carved on it, consisting of swirls in one direction or the other. Now, as for who could have made these...

"Are you okay?"

"Ahh!"

Cream did a little jump upon being startled by the sudden voice that came from a very close proximity. As if being startled once wasn't enough. Though this one had a voice... and that voice was distinctly feminine. Seeking out the source, she turned her head to the left, only to find nothing. She turned her head to the right... and was greeted with a thick pair of blue boots that stood tall and reached up to the person's knees. The heels of which were firmly flat, and behind them was the lower half of what seemed to be a tail as green as mint, and smooth as silk. The kind of tail that you'd expect from a horse. Taking a moment, Cream slowly glanced her way upwards.

Where the boots ended - which took a while, as their legs were quite long from her perspective - a pair of brown breeches began, and as she got to see the rest of the person's tail, she could confirm that it was indeed that of a horse. Covering their chest was a breezy tank top, with the same shade of blue as her boots, and their arms were covered by a pair of icy blue gloves that reached just above the elbows, one of which was holding onto a maroon bow... which, as it happened, featured a remarkably similar spiral pattern to the arrows on the tree. The figure itself had a youthful, yet mature build, and her fur was as gentle green as her tail.

Finally, the rabbit looked up at the head, but much of the lady's face was obscured by a bandana from the bottom, and a headscarf from the top, both of which were colored... well, surely you can guess. Poking out between them were a pair of warm brown eyes, and some of her bangs. Two arched ears poked out of the headscarf, along with a ponytail as large as her head that reached down to the upper half of her body. Amusingly, its shape strongly resembled that of her actual tail. After completing the analysis, Cream looked at the bow again, and immediately put two and two together... but not before realising she had remained quiet for a little too long.

"Y...yes, miss," she stuttered. "Thank you..." She really wasn't used to being crept on, let alone twice on the same day. She briefly wondered if this was how Blaze felt, before she soon remembered the arrow in her hand. Without another word, she raised the arrow in the woman's direction, as if to hand it over to her. She wasn't sure what to make of this person, and not just because she couldn't see much of her face, meaning she could only really look into their eyes.

Then again, they did just come to her defense, didn't they? And those eyes were as far from Metal Sonic's as you could get. They were calm... tender...

"And thank you," the lady said, as she blinked with a tiny nod. She took the arrow from the young girl's hand, and casually placed it back into her pocket that, by all accounts, should not be able to fit an arrow. She followed this up by gently pulling the second arrow from the tree herself, and placed that one in the same pocket. "Pardon me for causing a fright, but I couldn't let that incident go undisturbed."

"I'm... sorry about that," Cream shuffled her foot, still awkward in this unplanned for presence. Admittedly, she was also slightly weirded out by the unexpected maturity of the person's voice, despite them appearing to be not that much older then her friends. "I was silly, I should have noticed him-"

"What?" The horse glanced in her direction, and slowly kneeled down to her level. "My dear, what on earth do you have to be sorry for? That dirty bucket of garbage got the drop on you, it was hardly your fault." She gave a playful wink. "Besides, I'm sure you would have kicked his butt. You've done it before."

Cream couldn't help but giggle at that. And despite how it may have sounded to a more cynical individual, this was not hot air she was spewing just to make her feel better. It was obvious from the tone in the older person's voice that she fully believed what she was saying. And yet, what reason would she have to believe such a thing? Unless...

"You... know who I am?" the rabbit asked.

"Chao?" Cheese boldly questioned.

"Why, of course I do," the lady answered, with the faintest hint of a chuckle behind her bandana, as she rested her hands on her knee. "You and your friends are quite the celebrities, are you not?"

Before she could respond, Cream took another look at the eyes. The longer she looked at them, the more she noticed something else about them. For reasons unknown, they did not have the common white sclera. Instead, they were a very mild, light blue. You were not likely to notice it from far away, but up close was a different story. It was peculiar, and irregular, but not threatening... she found it kind of pretty, in a way.

"I don't really know about that," Cream bashfully scratched behind her head. "I know Mr. Sonic saves the world a lot, but I don't think anyone from around here recognizes him that well. Or maybe they don't care, it was kinda hard to tell..."

The woman paused at this. Her gaze turned downward for a single moment, before looking back up at the girl's own. After an additional moment of silence, her left glove slowly reached up to her bandana, and - with what seemed to be a short burst of hesitance - softly pulled it down, revealing the rest of her face at last. The first thing Cream noticed was how round and soft her muzzle was, with two slits that formed her nostrils. The second thing she noticed was how... pale it was.

"Well, if it means anything, you've got one fan over here," she stated fondly. Now that her face was revealed, the rabbit could appreciate the comforting little smile on her face. "Rest assured, I know who Sonic is. I know who you all are."

"You know all about our adventures?"

"Mm-hm," she confirmed, slightly sheepishly. "Not literally everything, but... generally, to put it lightly."

Cream looked at Cheese, who responded by nodding, indicating that the lady was fair enough in his book. As if by swift activation, a wave of excitement quickly filled the rabbit's expression, as an idea formed in her head.

"Would you like to meet Mr. Sonic?" she politely, yet unhesitantly asked.

The woman froze, apparently having not expected this offer in the slightest. She had merely intended to look out for her after Metal Sonic's attack, and was grateful enough to be speaking with her, now all of a sudden... what?

"I..." She took a moment to process that this was, in fact, reality. That she was not dreaming. That she was offered, out of nowhere, to meet Sonic the Hedgehog.

"...Well... if it wouldn't be a burden for him..."

"It won't, I promise!" Cream grinned cheerfully, and wasted no time in grabbing the equine's hand. "He makes new friends all the time! I'm sure he'll like you, Miss... Miss..."

"Lutrudis," the horse clarified, smiling once again. "Lutrudis Hadeer, to be precise. And please, there's no need for the title. Being with you is the real honor."

"Hee hee, that's such a lovely name!" Cream clapped her hands at the thought of it. "Don't you think so, Cheese?"

"Chao Chao!" Cheese cleverly pretended to know the meaning of it.

"Heh, well," Lutrudis started, as she tried her best not to be overwhelmed by the praise. "I suppose we ought to let them know as well that a certain Metal Rotter is on the loose, hmm?"

"Yes, of course!"

As Lutrudis got off the ground, and switched to standing upright once more, Cream's excitement temporarily halted as she noticed the look of exhaustion on her face, as though this simple act took a lot out of her. Before she could ask about it, the horse lightly fluttered her hand, as if to preemptively dismiss any concern.

"Phew," she muttered, and rubbed the side of her chest. "My apologies, I'm... not the fastest on my feet. Between you and me, my endurance has always stunk quite offensively. Far from Sonic's level, I'm sure."

Cream put her hands to her mouth, and nodded with full understanding. "Oh, I see. Sorry, Miss Hade-" She took a moment to catch herself, then let out a proud giggle. "Lutrudis."

The horse said nothing. Her smile was all that needed to be said.

---

Back to Intro...

To Prologue, Part II...

[kinetic-elaboration]

January 10: Cabinet of Curiosities 1x05

Some quick thoughts on Pickman's Model, because I am sleepy and want to get to bed.

Undoubtedly the best of the first five, even though it did not end strong. I was really digging it in all respects and I had a pretty good idea, I thought, of where it was going. Then it kinda... just disintegrated into randomness without ultimately explaining anything or drawing anything together. Just ooooh creepy imagery, eldritch monster (...inevitably, my fault for giving something based on a Lovecraft story a chance I guess), darkness, death, pessimism, oooooh.

So I'm a little annoyed with that. But everything else was really good: the sets/costumes/mood, the casting (only Crispin Glover could make on-and-off Mass. accents sound consistently creepy), the build-up, the direction. In the early parts in particular, I felt like I could never guess where it was going to go next, and the constant twists in the imagery, and the...not quite jump scares? were sooooo good.

One of my favorite parts was the first visit to Pickman's studio, because I thought it used the visual medium really well--the twisting of the painting, the cackling and groaning and chanting, the claustrophobia, the creepiness of the narration making you feel like you're losing your mind--I don't think that's easy to accomplish, to make just a story and a painting so viscerally WRONG like that. Especially when the story is so...typical? Yeah, witches, old New England, demons, cannibalism, we've all heard it. Similarly, I really loved the section right after, when Thurber is wandering through the streets and then going to the garden party. So much unexpected and weird imagery just really throwing me off. I think that's the kind of stuff I find the scariest, tbh. The uncanny, the Not Right. The first meeting of Thurber and Pickman was also expert: the mystery of Pickman's drawing, the rage of his technique, the slightly perceived reveal, the way Thurber seems to imitate it... There's a lot there to contemplate, I think.

I also liked the line about "family portraits," paired with the beast, but I liked it best, as I expected I would, when it was just a hint in the open, because when it came up again in context it was around the time the whole plot fell apart, for me. So he's related to a witch but also a demon or monster but also everyone sees demons when they die...idk, I don't know what was going on there or at any point from then on.

There's a lot of interest about Thurber too. Why was he drawn to Pickman and his art? Because he's also a talented artist? Because he pushes down the pessimistic and the fearful (always trying to focus on the beautiful, as he says to Rebecca) and so he's both intrigued and repulsed by the monstrous art? Because he's an alcoholic? Because Pickman picked him? (As an aside, I could not decide if I thought Pickman was evil/actively malicious or sincere in his friendship but just...playing with dark stuff etc.) Because he's an ex-soldier? Although WWI would have fallen after their first meeting, before their second, and so I'm not sure what to make of that. Thurber himself blames the visions he sees on "shell shock" and funnily right before he said that, I was thinking 'twist! the art is just art and he suffers from hallucinations and/or paranoia,' which I didn't think was where the story was actually going to/the intended reading but would have actually fit, since we see everything from Thurber's POV. Anyway, I AM a modernist and I like this period artistically so I am intrigued by this angle of the story.

For a while, I really thought there was a pretty simple and classic but compelling story being told here and I was so into it, as someone who's into art and creating etc. I thought the idea was that Rebecca was a witch and her family was evil, and Pickman and the power of his True Art open Thurber's eyes to this reality: that Rebecca is another old New England Witch Woman who wants to sacrifice him (the Husband figure) in a late night Satanic ceremony. Hence, why he sees her father in a vision before he knows who her father is, why he sees the witch woman dressed in black at the garden party, why Rebecca takes him back and marries him even though she appears to leave him at the party, why he has prophetic dreams that seem to bring him ever closer to the Satanic Feast, and why in his last dream he is literally decapitated. It would also make the (otherwise still excellent) scene of her bonding with Pickman over her seance experiences even creepier.

All of this was making sense to me and seemed compact and clear as a narrative, revolving around the idea of Prophetic True Art, until the point where Pickman started talking about his snarling family member. What happened to the witch? The cannibalism? Who is the furry demon/monster? Does he mean literal family or something more generic? How did the unfortunately named Joe Minot and Rebecca get infected with the need to be Devil worshippers? By looking at the paintings? If so, then why isn't EVERYONE gouging out their eyes and why did Thurber himself hold out in such a Protagonist Way against their influence? Joe I could see being a sort of sleeper agent, but Rebecca? Was my theory right but just not explained in so many words? Why did we have to go the grotesque route of child sacrifice for no reason at the end? Was it just as a twist? Like, everything is leading you to believe X so even though X would make perfect sense and be really satisfying, we're going to throw you a curve with Y just for the sake of the curve itself? Is this, like The Outside, an example of the adaptation feeling compelled to use (admittedly iconic) details from the original even though the adaptation itself has developed quite far away from those details and they no longer fit?

I don't know. But I really need to sleep.

[chronicalchaos]

Wick modern AU: Explained +Some fun facts

Uhm, i was gonna wait until i finish this AU's synopsis and new book cover, but both will be taking a while until they get ready...

And i wanted to post this "overview" for a while now, anyways, here's some fun facts and a summary of the story:

Old book cover:

I'm really proud of Sam's shading, but the twins look weird and Tom looks old...I won't use this cover, 'cus Travis and Duncan are main characters as well and i want to include them on the cover. +My art style changed!

Story summary:

Just a quick thing! I changed quite a few things to fit the narrative and the modern days setting, i hope you understand!

The story of this AU happens in September 2014, a little less than a month until Sam’s birthday, where the Weavers aren't dead– Well, most of them aren't...

The narrative is centered on a curse, that was based on the audio that plays when you pick up Benny's bible, where 7 people are affected by it: Tim, Tom, John, Sam, John's brother/Sam's dad(I won't name him), Mary and James.

Sam's, Travis' and Duncan's side of the story will be more on the investigative side maybe with a bit of comedy(I'm not good with writing that, so it will most likely be just investigation), while Tim and Tom's side will be the more angst and unusual/horror side. Sam will have a bit of horror as well, since he's linked with them by the curse, but the twins will definitely have the spotlight when it comes to horror/unusual stuff.

Fun Facts:

General:

The story happens a week, maybe a bit more, after summer break

Even tho one of the first chapters is set on school, them going to school will probably just be mentioned or implied, Example: Them leaving a school bus

For some reason, i saw a few stories where everyone knew what polio is and how it works, which i felt it wouldn't be realistic, so that won't happen here

It has a lot of paranormal stuff

The summer camp by the Weaver's property is closed and has been like that for a few years now

Just Mary and James call the twins Changelings, the rest of the city knows there are "changelings" walking around, just, not that the twins are them

There's no changelings, they think there is, but in reality it's just a curse(like that's something lighter than a demon switched with a child at birth)

The song that helps me get in the mood of this story when I'm writing is "Far too young to die" by Panic! At the disco

Timas Weaver:

Tim is 12, he'll be 13 in...approximately 3 months

He was born December 30th 2001 and is the oldest between him and Tom

He's almost an inch shorter than Tom

He has a huge burn scar! It goes from a bit more than half of his chest, both his arms, his palms and his whole neck, he got that scar when he was 3 years old

He's does not have asthma, but he does have extreme pyrophobia on it's place

He has flat affect, his face doesn't match his emotions/he looks serious most of the time(I'm so sorry if I don't portrait it right! Please give me constructive criticism if I do something wrong here!)

He's a theater kid and would be quoting a lot of musicals if Mary didn't isolate him and Tom from the world(The theater part only exists because of his and Tom's masks)

The whittling thing exists here, but like, it won't be of much importance to the story, the knife will! But not the whittle part

He despises spiders and it's Tom's fault!

He climbs trees (there's not much I can say here to be honest)

He has this...i don't know if you can call it a quirk, but, he tends to tilt his head to the left, it's kinda random

He's ambidextrous, was left handed, but Mary forced him to learn to use his right hand

He teached himself how to throw knifes...don't mess with him

Paranoia!

Needs therapy

Tomathy Weaver:

Tom is 12 and will be 13 in approximately 3 months

He was born December 30th 2001 and is the youngest between him and Tim

He's almost an inch taller than Tim

He doesn't have Polio now, he did when he was...around 5 years old

His left leg is bigger than his right one, his right feet reaches his left ankle

His left ankle is paralyzed, that's why he uses a leg brace

He's claustrophobic, he developed that on the same day Tim got his scar and pyrophobia

He won first place on a spelling bee before he got Polio and he used to spell when he got anxious, but after John's disappearence he started shuddering, shaking and cracking his joints instead, very similar to how he shudders on the game

He loves spiders!

He is really flexible, but, because of his polio, he can't play around with it anymore

He likes to draw

He has pretty bad scoliosis

Paranoia #2!

Socially awkward baby

Went to therapy when little, needs to go back

Caleb Weaver:

Caleb is 9 years old

He was born August 19th 2005

He's almost the same height as Timas

He was a year old when Tom had polio

He's actually James' kid, not John's

He won first place in 2014's(the year the story happens) county track meet

He dislikes Tim

Lillian Weaver:

Lillian is 5 years old

She was born February 28th 2009

She's a bit tall for her age

She's notorious for making little deals between her and her siblings, like helping them get away with something in exchange of something(getting her out of class during their recess, buying a new plushy, etc.)

She's a really curious and affectionate kid, loves hugs, kisses and especially being picked on someone's lap

She loves bunnies(even tho this isn't a surprise)

Benjamin Weaver:

Benjamin is 14 years old and will be 15 in less then a month

He was born October 24th 1999

He's just really tall compared to the twins (it's kinda funny, Tim and Tom are 4 years older than Caleb, but they are just an inch taller than him)

He's really religious and prays a lot for his siblings' health and safety

He's been trying to take care of Tom after John's disappearence, since Mary doesn't do it, much the opposite, she hides Tom's medicines on purpose

Mary Weaver:

I didn't give her neither an age nor a birthday...i probably need to do that

She had an affair with James, when the twins were 4 and Benny was 6, Caleb was born from this affair

She doesn't hit any of her kids, but she does neglect most of them

On the nights between Saturday and Sunday, she doesn't sleep, she spends this time praying with a candle, then, before they go to church, she writes everything that happened that night on her diary

She has a lot of diaries, she keeps them in the attic

She's a little bitch(i don't know what else to say about her)

Pastor James McAlroy:

James also doesn't have an age nor birthday (i only have the Weaver kids and Sam's birthdays)

He won't appear much, but he does have a big role on the story

He's Caleb's biological dad(i mentioned that like 3 times already)

He tried doing a "honest-to-god exorcism" on the twins, it was just a cover for an attempt of murder

He's a toxic little shit(there's not much I can say about him)

Samuel Burton:

Sam is 12 years old and will be 13 in less than a month

He was born in October 2nd 2001

Him and Travis are Brothers on their mom's part

He's cousin with the Weavers, minus Caleb, they just don't know each other

He can be just as smug as Travis sometimes

He absolutely hates going on ghost hunting, he thinks it's dumb

He has long hair and freckles all over his body

He's just too lazy to tie his own shoes

He's the only one that remembers to bring a backpack when ghost hunting

While Travis is the camera man, he's the flashlight guy

Travis Burton:

Travis is 15 years old and i don't have a birthday for him, well, he would be born in 1999 just like Benny

He doesn't like wearing glasses, but doesn't have other choice, he either doesn't take proper care of his lenses and gets his eyes irritated or he just lost them

He's the face of his and Duncan's channel

He tries to drag Sam to be part of the channel, but he doesn't really want to be part of it

He cusses way too much

He's brave, only because he goes face first into danger without thinking

Duncan:

Duncan is 15 and would also be born in 1999

Big ass coward, sends Travis and Sam to go investigate on his place every fucking time

Entitled as fuck

The "brain" behind his and Travis' channel

He's suspiciously good on researching, he'll find the most unexpected things about you

He's a little shit as well

...i think that's it! Now i can go continue the first chapter and maybe finish it soon

[mldrgrl]

The Care and Keeping of Your Alien Baby

by: mldrgrl Rated: PG Summary: portrait of an alien baby baby mama and alien baby baby daddy

With Scully on maternity leave and Mulder with all the time in the world, the only thing he could think to do was show up at her apartment early in the mornings and leave late into the night.  She didn't seem to mind...much.  He made excuses for it, called it boredom, but the truth was, since her brief little hospital stint, he was terrified of not being there if something went wrong.

Scully was hellbent on what the pregnancy books he'd been reading called “nesting.”  She cleaned cupboards, or tried to, but her belly always seemed to be in the way and since Mulder kept insisting he was there to help, not to be a nuisance to her, she put him to work.  So, he cleaned cupboards and emptied the little spare room under her scrutiny and supervision, boxing up books and knick knacks to take to goodwill later in the week.  He painted the walls a soft eggshell, questioning why it wasn't pink or blue or seafoam green or sunshine yellow, but she shook her head and insisted on eggshell.

The crib she ordered came in a box, the instructions with it came in French.  Mulder sat on the floor in the freshly painted, sparsely furnished spare room and metaphorically scratched his head as he studied the drawings of little wooden pieces that didn't seem to fit where they were supposed to.  

“I think it wants me to screw this piece into this one,” he said, holding up two wooden slats.  

“Let me see.”  Scully could no longer bend over easily, but she reached for the paper on the floor anyway.

“You look like one of those little Weeble people we saw at the toy store.”

“Thank you so much.”

Mulder smiled and dropped the slats to take her hands and help her kneel down.  It was like Lamaze class all over again except he didn't get to hold her this time.  She leaned over so she was on her hands and knees and maneuvered herself to the floor, expelling a long breath as she sat down.  The instructions were still just out of reached and she made a grabbing motion for them until Mulder slid them over.

“Thank you,” she said.  After a few moments of study, she pointed out to one of the pieces he'd just set down and another.  “That piece and that one.”

“You sure?  It looks too short.”

“Its got the two slots those others don't.”

“So does this one,” Mulder answered, picking up a piece on his other side.”

“Damn.”

“We’ll figure it out.  Even if I have to get a French dictionary from the library, we’ll figure it out.”

It took three hours of construction, deconstruction, and further construction to figure it out.  Scully stayed on the floor for most of it, frustrated that she couldn't help and wishing she'd thought to do it sooner.  Once her input was no longer needed and they were pretty sure the frame was holding up, she started working on putting the mobile together instead, tying little wooden stars into place.  When she was finished and wound it up so the music played, Mulder smiled as he twisted the screwdriver

“I’m almost done here, I think,” Mulder said.  “This should be the last piece.”

“I should see about dinner.”

Mulder put down the screwdriver and had to help her off the floor, laughing when she struggled to get to her feet.  She gave him an annoyed look and then let go of one of his hands to clutch her stomach.  He covered her hand with his, panic face on in an instant.

“What?” he asked.

“Just kicking,” she assured him, wincing and rubbing the side of her stomach.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  She glanced up at him and then took his hand and moved it to where the baby’s foot was thumping against her abdomen.

“I think you’re incubating the next Michael Flatley in there,” he said.

Scully chuckled and then winced again.  “Don’t make me laugh, Mulder, my bladder can’t handle it right now.”

“I’m serious, Scully, that’s not kicking, it’s Riverdance.”

Scully pushed Mulder away and rushed to the bathroom.  Mulder laughed and finished screwing in the last piece on the crib.  There was still a handful of screws left, but he figured Scully need not know about those and he dropped them into the little toolbox of hers she’d produced at the start of the project.  Before he put the mattress on, he tested the drop of the front side, making sure it worked.

“Mulder?” Scully appeared in the doorway, just as he was wiggling the mattress into place.

“Yeah?”

“You staying for dinner?”  

“Pizza?”

“Well…”  She came closer to the crib and then ran a hand over the sloped side of the frame.

“We could go out,” he said, hopeful.  It had been pizza the last four nights in a row.  They both looked down at her flannel pajamas.  “Or I could pick something up.”

“Hmm…”  She reached inside the crib and pressed on the mattress.

“But, I suppose the baby really wants pizza?”

Scully had a bashful look on her face when she raised her eyes to his.  He smiled down at her and she looked away, smoothing her hand over the mattress.

“You did a good job,” she said.  “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Mulder, I…”

“What?”

“I’m...scared,” she said, almost in a whisper.

He turned towards her, but she stayed facing the crib so he put his hand on her shoulder.  “Of what?” he asked.  “The birth?”

She shrugged.

“Talk to me, Scully,” he said.

“I’ve been having dreams that the baby...that something isn't right.”

“I thought you ran tests.  You said everything was fine.”

“I did.  It is.  It’s stupid, I know, I’m just…”

“Hey,” he reached out and brushed the underside of her chin, urging her to look at him.  “It’s not stupid.  Given our history, our work, the things we’ve been through...it’s not stupid.”

She shook her head and put both hands on her stomach.  “Everything comes back okay, I shouldn’t be so...I just don’t know what I can trust.”

Mulder put his arm around her and she rested her head against his chest.  He rubbed her back and she sighed.  When she didn’t pull away, he put his other arm around her and set his chin on the top of her head.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.  Minutes went by and she still didn’t pull away, so he continued to hold her.

“Why don’t you ever stay?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re here all the time, but you never stay.  Not since…”

“My Lazarus impression?”

Scully pulled away with her head down and Mulder shoved his hands inside his pockets.  She tucked her hair back over her ears and then shuffled across the room to the dresser and pulled out a set of crib sheets in a buttery shade of yellow.  He helped her tuck in the back edges of the fitted sheet because her arms weren’t long enough and her belly was in the way.

“Are you afraid that you’re doing all of this for nothing?” she asked suddenly, her eyes wide and wet when she looked up at him.

“For nothing?”

“Because the samples could’ve very well been tampered with when we tried the in vitro.  Who knows what Cancerman did to me when I went with him that weekend.  We were only together a few times before you were taken.  You have every reason to question the existence of this baby, Mulder and...and your part in it.  I won’t blame you if you just want to walk away.”

Mulder was fairly certain Scully didn’t realize she was crying.  He held her face with both hands and brushed her tears away with his thumbs.  She blinked up at him as though she was shocked she’d just spoken out loud.

“It’s your call, Scully,” he said.  “Whatever place I have in your life, it’s up to you.”

“But, what do you want, Mulder?”

His lips moved before he actually spoke.  “I want it to have been one of those few times.”

“So do I,” she whispered.  “But, what if...what if…”

“What if suddenly you’re an alien baby baby mama?”

Scully pulled away, wiping her eyes with her knuckles.  

“Sorry there aren't any textbooks out there for this,” he said.  “No What to Expect When You're Expecting an Alien Baby.”

“Mulder!” she exclaimed, a scowl forming on her face, brows deeply pinched.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” he asked.  “What you’re afraid to say out loud.  You think the baby might not be human.”

She licked her lips and swallowed, but said nothing.  She didn't have to.  He knew it was true because it was his fear too.  She wiped her eyes again and then put her hands under the bottom swell of her belly.  Mulder took a step closer into her space and put his hands on the top swell.

“We’ll figure it out, Scully,” he said.  “We always do.”

She gave another nod, but her eyes were on the floor.  “I just want him to be healthy,” she said.

“I know.”  He tried to ignore the fact that she may have just given it away that the baby was a boy.  She’d been trying so hard not to reveal the gender, only referring to the baby as ‘my baby’, but maybe it wasn’t about the gender at all.  Maybe she’d been trying to convince herself it was a baby she was carrying, her own baby, and not something inhuman.  Maybe he'd kept his distance at first because he thought the same thing.

“I want him to have a normal life,” she said.

“Of course.”  She’d said him again.  A boy.  A son.  His son.

“I’m sorry, I forgot all about the pizza.”

Mulder blinked, startled by the change in subject.  Scully was rubbing her face with both hands like she was tired and she probably was.  Emotionally, mentally exhausted.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, hoping she knew he wasn’t talking about the pizza.

“I’m craving mushrooms tonight.  Is that okay?”

“I’ll pick them off.  Hey,” he said, taking her arm as she went to walk out of the room.

“What?”

“You mind if I stay tonight?”

Her eyes were on his chest as she answered.  “I’d like that.”

“Good.”

*****

“I don’t understand, Mulder,” she whispered.  “They came to take him from us.  Why they didn't…”

Mulder looked down at the perfect little baby in his arms, surprised at how naturally it came to him, the urge to sway and rock from side to side.  “I don't quite understand that either,” he said.  “Except that maybe he isn't what they thought he was. That doesn't make him any less of a miracle though, does it?”

“From the moment I became pregnant, I feared the truth.  About how, and why.”  She lifted her eyes and looked up at Mulder.  “And I know that you feared it, too.”

“I think what we feared were the possibilities,” he said, tearing his eyes away from his son to look at her.  “The truth we both know.”

“Which is what?” she asked.

Hopefully the answer lay in one of those few times they were together.  He didn't really know how to say that to her, so he kissed her instead, wanting her to know that even with lingering unknowns, he still loved her.  And now this little bundle squirming in his arms.  

Scully was the one to pull away when the baby made a noise, something between a squawk and a chirp.  Her hand went to William’s fuzzy little head while Mulder tilted him higher to look into his face.

“I take it back, Scully,” Mulder said.  “Now that I see him in this light, he's way too good looking to take after Skinner.  With far more hair as well.”

Scully smiled as she stroked William’s head.  The baby turned towards Mulder’s chest and started rubbing his face against his shirt.  Mulder freed one hand so that he was cradling him in one arm and took one of William’s hands.  William gripped Mulder’s finger and drew it into his mouth.  

“I think someone might be hungry,” Mulder said, glancing over at Scully.  “And not for pizza, I’m guessing.”

“Let me sit down,” she said, turning to move slowly towards the bed.  

Mulder followed, rocking William back and forth as the baby began to furiously gnaw on his knuckle.  His little face grew pinched and red.  Scully settled back against her pillows and nodded at Mulder.  He gingerly transferred the baby into her arms and slipped his knuckle free from William’s mouth.  Will made a noise of frustrated protest and Scully worked at the buttons at the top of her shirt.

“Mulder, could you…”

“Of course,” he said, quickly averting his eyes and turning away.  “I'll just-”

“...grab the burp cloth by the bassinet for me?”

“Oh.  Yes, sure.”  

Mulder picked up the small rag folded next to the bassinet and took it over to Scully.  Seeing as though she clearly had her hands full trying to guide William's mouth to her breast, he draped it over her shoulder and she glanced up at him, but turned her attention back to the task at hand.  He tried not to look, to stare, but he was too fascinated not to.  Not because it was Scully's bare breast...okay, not just because it was Scully's bare breast, but because this little creature was about to take sustenance and comfort from it.

Scully seemed to be having a bit of trouble, though.  She winced and then looked wearily up at Mulder and shifted against the pillows.  “We’re still a little new at this,” she said, sheepishly.

Mulder had been reading a lot of pregnancy books lately and he knew far too much than he wanted to know about troubles with latching and cracked nipples and blocked ducts.  Far too much.

“Gee, Scully,” Mulder said.  “At four hours old I would’ve thought any kid of yours would be able to speak seven languages and solve quadratic equations.”

“Must take after you, then.”

“I’d like to think I know my way around a breast when I’m fortunate enough to have one in front of me, thank you very much.  I hope you’ll vouch for me in that department.”

Scully blushed and dropped her eyes to William, who seemed to have got the hang of things and was sucking contentedly.  “Sit down, Mulder,” she said, softly.  “You’re making me nervous.”

Mulder shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the chair in Scully’s corner.  He bent down to unlace his shoes and then stepped out of them before he moved up on the bed next to Scully.  She scooted over a little to make room, but he put his arm around her and brought her closer.  She relaxed and lay her head back on his shoulder.

“He’s perfect, Scully.”

“Yeah,” she answered, brushing the side of her finger down William’s cheek.

Only after a few minutes of nursing, William’s eyes closed and feeding became an unconscious, instinctual act.  Scully and Mulder watched him quietly, neither quite believing he was real.

Mulder touched one of William’s feet that was sticking out from the blanket.  The baby kicked and managed to dislodge his tiny sock.  Too far to reach for the bedside table, Mulder stuffed it in his pocket and then touched the little toes which curled reflexively against his finger.  He then reached for William’s hand and inspected the itty bitty fingernails.  

Scully took one of William’s hands and brought it to her mouth to kiss his palm.  She ran her hand over the white blonde fuzz on his head and stroked his browline.  Her arms were strangely already accustomed to his weight, like he’d always been there and she just hadn’t realized it.

Suddenly, William’s mouth went slack and he twisted his head away.  His face contorted slightly and he pulled his foot away from Mulder’s caress.  Squirming, he let out a great expulsion of gas that startled both Mulder and Scully.  Mulder was the first to laugh and Scully followed, lifting the baby up to her shoulder to pat his back just in case a belch would soon follow.

“Hey, kid,” Mulder said, squeezing William’s bare foot lightly.  “Say excuse me when you do that.  Sorry, Scully.  Maybe he does take after me.”

Scully chuckled and kissed William’s head as she continued to pat his back.  “Mulder?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay?”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.”

*****

Mulder didn't sleep at night anymore.  Not that he slept that much before, but whenever he did fall asleep, he woke in a panic, the sound of a baby crying still faintly thrumming in his ears.

He wished what kept him awake was one of those new parent things.  All the books advised to sleep when the baby slept.  That wasn't an option, though.  There was no baby.  Well, there was a baby, he just wasn't there.

It was cold in the little trailer Mulder lived in in the New Mexico desert.  They were a day away from the Winter solstice.  Christmas was in five days.  William was seven months old exactly.

As he did most nights, Mulder lay in bed, not sleeping, rubbing the soft little newborn sock that he'd pulled out of his pocket the week after he'd ended up in New Mexico.  It was the only memento he had of his son and he'd broke down weeping when he found it.

He slipped his thumb inside the sock, marveling at how snugly it fit, but for the life of him he couldn't remember if William’s foot has actually been that small.  It must've been, to fit so securely.  He remembered the feel of the toes curling against his finger when he touched the bottom of the baby's foot.  He also remembered the fierce grip William had taken of his finger.  

Surely William was no longer that small.  All the books said he'd have grown up to an inch a month and doubled his birthweight by now.  Last night he'd taken a ruler and measured 26 inches against the wall and wrapped up stacks of canned food in a blanket to estimate what holding 18 pounds of baby might feel like.

Every milestone he missed depressed him further.  He imagined William accomplishing the things he read about and wished he could've been there.  Peek-a-boo would probably be his favorite game at this point.  He'd know how to sit up and roll over and maybe even throw a ball.  He'd have teeth - maybe three or four of them now.  Mulder wondered if Scully was still breastfeeding.  He wondered how blue William’s eyes would be by now, because even though Scully insisted all babies had blue eyes, he knew that William’s were destined to be just as blue as his mother’s.

Though it was maybe too early to tell, Mulder wondered what kind of traits the baby had inherited.  Was he a moody baby, like Mulder could be?  Was he determined, like Scully?  Was he stubborn, like both his parents?  Curious?  Observant?  Did he have his mother’s skeptical brow or his father’s pouty lip?  Or was he simply his own person; one that laughed often, slept well, and trusted easily?

It wasn't fair.  The good guys were supposed to have happy endings.  They were supposed to be able to ride off into sunsets, raise their families in houses with white picket fences and porch swings, live happily ever after.  They weren't supposed to be driven apart by fear.  He was supposed to protect his son by being his father, not by leaving him behind.  Remember the days when they thought the worst that could happen was that the baby was an alien?  The isolation was much worse.

As usual, the tears gathered in Mulder’s eyes and he blinked them away.  He shoved the little sock back in his pocket and turned onto his side.  It was cold enough to see his breath in the trailer.  He wondered if Scully put William in snow suits and mittens and little stupid hats with flaps on the ears to keep him warm.

The funny thing was, it was a sunny, warm day when he'd left.  By early morning, the humidity and heat were already oppressive and Scully had worried over turning the air conditioner on because it might not be good for the baby.  It was the last conversation they'd had, and then he had to go.

Scully had let him hold William for one last time and he walked away for a moment to have a man-to-man conversation with him.  I hope it’s not for too long, buddy, but take care of your mom for me.  Be good.  Don’t wrinkle your nose up when she orders mushrooms on her pizza.  Try not to worry about things.  Don’t forget me.

He’d put the baby in the bassinet and wrapped his arms around Scully from behind because she wouldn’t turn around and face him.

“Scully, are you sure this is…”

“I don’t think we have a choice, Mulder.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Please, don’t make this any harder.”

“I want to stay, Scully.  I’ve always wanted to stay.”

“And I want you to stay too, Mulder.  So badly.”

And then he let her go.  Because neither of them knew what else to do and suddenly their number one priority was the safe-keeping of the little life sleeping in his little basket.  William might only be forty-eight hours old, but Mulder already knew he’d give up his life for him in a heartbeat.  If it would keep him safe, he would do anything.  

If only there was a book out there that could help him cope.  Everything You Wanted to Know About Being Exiled in the First Seven Months of Your Baby’s Life, But Were Afraid to Ask.  Maybe he would think about writing one himself.  If he survived it.

The End