#<- for the sprites used in the second picture. i keep doing this to myself

[accirax]

On my fetch quest to retrieve Xander's assigned color from the DRDT Demo Video, I noticed something interesting-- where everybody stands in the Class Trial totally changed between the demo video and now???

Here's where everybody stood in the Class Trial during the demo:

(ignore the colors, they have no meaning) And here's where everybody canonically stands:

Like I said, almost completely different. Here are a couple of my observations that I thought were most interesting:

Teruko and Eden are the only characters who stayed in the same location. Teruko always stood in front of MonoTV, and Eden was always to her right.

Arei and Hu always stood next to each other.

Veronika and Levi always stood next to each other, although they flipped which order they were standing in.

Originally, Xander was in the position opposite the circle from Teruko. Now, that's where David stands.

I have no idea what any of this might mean, and it might be completely arbitrary. Still, it's interesting what might have been going through the creator's head when they originally chose the demo placements, and then when those placements changed.

[holidayking102]

CHRISTMAUS 2024 SUBMISSIONS

Today I am proud to announce ChristmAUs 2024! As you may have seen earlier, I have taken the reigns of ChristmAUs from @fmsdraws / @ut-poppy-askblog (with his permission). Unfortunately, I can not make a game like ChristmAUs 2023 (which you should really play Link here)! However, I do have a big plan for ChristmAUs 2024, and that plan is: Animated Christmas Card!

That's right! Unlike most of the other ChristmAUs collabs, this one shall be animated! Give your AU characters animations to bring them to life for all to see! Of course, animation is a hard, time consuming process. But with over 2 months to work, and with the simple rules on how the characters should be animated, it shouldn't be too difficult to get your character in in time!

RULES: *Submissions are open until Sunday, December 8th, 12 AM! Meaning that they are open through out December 7th and then they close! *Submissions must be in the style of Undertale and Deltarune! *No limit on the amount of characters you can submit, but I may ask you to slow down if I feel you are submitting too many. *The AU character(s) you submit must come from a publicly revealed AU that must have some content behind them other then this ChristmAUs. This includes: Art, Audio, Comic, Animation, Photography, Game, Sprites, Written Sources, or any combination of them. *No content that would be 18+. This is a family-friendly ChristmAUs! *No content that would be harmful or hurtful to anyone. ChristmAUs should be a joyous time, and hate and harm have no place in it. *No content that would violate the TOS of the majority of websites, including Youtube, Reddit and Tumblr. *You must have permission to submit the character, if you did not create them yourself! (UT and DR canon characters excluded; just link UT or DR for them.) Submission Rules: 1: Make sure you've read all the rules! 2: Give your Handle; how you want to be credited in the public. I do not accept anonymous contributions! 3: Share your characters name(s) and AU(s), along with link to the AU/those AUs! 4: Share your characters sheet(s); this should include every frame individually used for the animation, and I will add them in myself. Character Sheets should be 1x1 (meaning a pixel is just 1 pixel). Animations should be based on 12 Frames Per Second and Frames should be based on Multiples of 6! (6, 12, 18, etc.) 5: Share where you wish for your character(s) to be placed on the map. Keep in mind that while I will try to place them where you wish, I may move them slightly to fit the environment better. 6: Optionally, if you wish, include a GIF of the animation so that I can get an idea of how they should look in action! 7: Additionally, for those who can't animate, or for those who want to go above and beyond, there are also opportunities to add static content to ChristmAUs. These include: +Ornaments (20x20 max) +Gifts (30x30 max) +Table Set Pieces (45x45 max, 13 Max) +Pictures (30x18 or 17x18, 15 Max) 8: Characters should not be placed in areas that obviously would not fit them; like a massive character in a tiny area, for instance. 9: No walking animations, or animations that move characters from their standing point. This is to ensure there's no collisions and for a maximum amount of characters on the map. 10: All animations should loop into themselves. No animations should simply end. 11: All art submissions should include your handle/credit name!

SUBMISSION LINK:

I hope everyone has fun with this ChristmAUs! And I hope doing it in animated form works wonderfully for everyone! One last shout out to @mickonline1 for his wonderful ChristmAUs tree submission! I'll see you again through out the month, and ChristmAUs will see you on Christmas!

[yours-the-author]

Hey, so...

Does anyone remember this post I made recently?

.

.

.

I made some art for it...

If you wanna see it...

Here it is:

I'M SO MAD AT MYSELF IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SURVIVING THE MANSION BUT I DIDN'T REALIZE UNTIL AFTER I FINISHED IT AAAGGH

...Aside from that little oopsie, though, I'm actually really proud of how the logo came out? I based the font off a style called "Micro 5 Charted". Thank goodness I was using graph paper!

I'm not sure if that Kanji is correct; Google Translate doesn't seem to like the word "oni" or "stick", especially together, so I spelled out the Romanji in the English box and then tried to copy the characters Google offered me as closely as possible. I think I'd be more surprised if I got the Kanji correct, honestly.

Henry Stickmin title screens usually have two different fonts for the verb and the noun, and I thought about trying to make "Mansion" look like an actual house, but that made my brain hurt to much to conceptualize, so I stuck with different colored fonts. Hmm, that clock sure is there. I wonder what it means gets hit by a bus

-----

Anyway, here's some theoretical scenarios of what the main gameplay would look like! This one stars General Hubert Galeforce and some other guy:

Option 1: Shoot

Result: The monster hears you move as soon as you pull your gun from its holster. No time to defend yourself.

FAILURE (DiE!)

Option 2: Backup

Result: Your radio refuses to work, even though it was just fine before you entered the mansion. The monster waits until you've realized this, then goes for your throat.

FAILURE (No one will hear your screams...)

Option 3: Time Out

Result: The monster does not hear you and goes into a separate room, out of sight and out of mind. Galeforce survives... for now. But what was that thing...?

-----

I don't know how feasible it would be, but I imagine this would be a cross between typical RPG Maker-styled games (pixels, speech boxes with pictures of the characters, moving around a set floor plan, puzzle solving, etc) and typical Henry Stickmin-styled game play (cutscenes, choices, possible interactivity [grabbing items/bios], the occasional quick time event, etc) (voice acting would be a stretch). Most of the gameplay, like exploring the mansion, puzzle solving, and running/fighting the monster, would be RPG style, and then occasionally switch into a cutscene that requires you to make a choice; usually with just one correct answer but possibly others that could result in diverging dialogue/interaction/paths/endings? Something to think about.

Anyway, Galeforce! Poor man has no idea what he almost walked into, haha. I experimented with perspective and limb placement here, which was exhausting but also a lot of fun! Dynamics are hard with stick figures, but considering that they're they only character medium I've ever been decent at, I made it work.

And the Oni... I tried to give it some sort of anatomy, but quickly realized that I do not have the skills to pay those bills. I opted for a more of a shadowy figure looking thing with a big smile instead (you can see some of the lines where I tried to make it have arms, I think). I opted for Ao Oni's purple-y blue color scheme verses HetaOni's gray alien look. Back in the day of fan made Ao Oni games, people would usually try to put their own unique spin on the Oni sprite, with HetaOni's being the most unique I ever saw (keep in mind, it was one of the few designs I ever saw, so there might be cooler ones out there, who knows). In theory, a game called Sutikku Oni would use a stick figure shaped monster, but with my current art skills, that would just look like a normal stick person with a big head (look! Geoffrey Plumb's cousin!). I think the less we see, the better; all good horror games know when to leave things to the imagination!

-----

I also made a second one, featuring my boy Dave Panpa!

...Dave, I'm so sorry... *MAKES HIM PEEP THE HORROR*

Option 1: Call for Help

Result: You call for help...

FAILURE (...but nobody came.)

Option 2: Run

Result: You tense your muscles in preparation to run. The monster is faster.

FAILURE (YoU... wOn'T... eScApE...!)

Option 3: Pretend to be a Piano

Result: Frozen with fear in front of the piano, it's all you can do to hope the monster thinks you're also a piano (a sopping wet piano, but still). It's deadly quiet. You can hardly breathe, and you're afraid to. The monster stares at you for an uncomfortably long time, before walking away, out of sight and out of mind. You stay still a little longer before collapsing to the ground. Dave Panpa survives... for now. How on Earth did that work? Or... did that thing let you live out of pity...?

-----

UGH the piano! Pianos are so hard to draw! Luckily, I had an almost head on reference that I was able to use for the first picture. For the above view shot, I had to do some wild guessing. The red stuff near Dave's head in the second picture is the red stuff he was referring to. Is it blood? Paint? Something else? Who knows! But as we all know, any self respecting Ao Oni fan game needs a piano puzzle!

I imagine Dave was dragged along for the ride when the Toppats decided to find the treasure of the mansion (or something to that degree), fully intending to leave him there to die if there was, in fact, a monster inside. Poor Dave... Maybe there could be an ending where amends are made? Or maybe not...

I mostly put the smile on the monster's shadow as a means of showing that, indeed, it is the monster, but now I'm wondering if the monster's mouth glows or something? Hot fires of Hell, delivered right to you! Can you beat the heat?

-----

Thank you all for coming to my fixation ramble that absolutely no one else except me finds interesting! Any thoughts before you go?

(A cricket chirps, then leaves because it's in the wrong conference room)

...Yeah, I figured.

[acespaceacepilot]

wyll ravengard, my beloved

♘⚔♡ a wyll playlist on spotify with themes on leaving/going home, the weight of sacrifice, and atonement

(song list + lyrics that made me chose them below the cut)

don’t let them see you cry - manchester orchestra

so breathe while you're alive / let the big band play as you tap leather with your fingers / and i tried to write in style / but the words just come and i write them as soon as i see 'em

passenger seat - death cab for cutie

i roll the window down / and then begin to breathe in / the darkest country road / and the strong scent of evergreen / from the passenger seat as / you are driving me home

open arms - november ultra

love with open hands / love the fool who smiles / the wisdom of the damned / love with open heart / let it burn you, consume you / take over who you are

meet you at the gate - jayne trimble

there was a field, and at the brow of a hill / i had a vision, time stood still, you were holding / the world in your hands, you said / "come on up what are you waiting for? / you are willing, and i am able / to take your load, your heavy load— / i am stronger, than the beasts of this land / i have a softer touch than any human hand."

(no one knows me) like the piano - sampha

you know i left, i flew the nest / and you know i won't be long / and in my chest you know me best / and you know i'll be back home

love love love - the mountain goats

king saul fell on his sword when it all went wrong / and joseph's brothers sold him down the river for a song / and sonny liston rubbed some tiger balm into his glove / some things you do for money and some you do for love, love, love

17 - youth lagoon

surrounded by nothing / but the nothing's surrounded by us / but it's just me in my room / with my eyes shut / oh, when i was seventeen / my mother said to me / "don't stop imagining. the day that you do is the day that you die."

wheels roll home - the antlers

don't go before you leave / every second we got, we gotta make believe / that you'll be right back like you never left / like you mailed yourself to your return address / in a self-stamped envelope / you'll revolve 'round the globe / but / when your wheels roll home (x3) / no more you roam

don’t haunt this place - yellow ostrich

don't haunt this heart, don't haunt this place / your heart beating slow as it beats out of pace / … / this was hard, it was fun, we should do it again / give ourselves some time, ten years from the day / i need you now, i need you then / i never want to feel this again

only the young die good - saintseneca

if only the good ones die young / i'd pray your corruption come / swift like a thief in the night / right i pluck my right eye right out / yanked from your slumber / what ominous portent / dangles in your face / rife with sprites falling on knives / crowd into your gaze

the boy who blocked his own shot - the thoughtlife

i'll grow old, start acting my age / be a brand new day in a life that you hate / a crown of gold, a heart that's harder than stone / and it hurts a whole lot but it's missed when it's gone / … / and if it makes you less sad, i'll move out of the state / you can keep to yourself, i'll keep out of your way / and if it makes you less sad, i'll take your pictures all down / every picture you paint, i will paint myself out

salt circle - eliza mclamb

i'm tender as a soft warm palm / and i don't know how to deal with my anger yet / when i was younger i'd curse the thought / of thinking all of them / and i'm afraid of losing my mind / cause then i'd lose my place / oh, nothing keeps me here as much as / the sight of my own face

dyin day - anaïs mitchell

be it work or be it rite? / father, tell me / brings us to the mountainside / every day a dying day / be it work or be it rite / oh my sweet babe / we come to make a sacrifice / every day a dying day

welcome home, son - radical face

ships are launching from my chest / some have names but most do not / if you find one, please let me know what piece i've lost / peel the scars from off my back / i don't need them anymore / you can throw them out or keep them in your mason jars

believe me - james and the shame

i think you want an answer / i'm not prepared to give / 'cause the one i gave you said that, that ain't it / must be something that i want / … / i don't think it's true / i'm not asking you to agree / i'm just asking you to believe me / you say my heart was never true / that might say more 'bout you

boy with a coin - iron & wine

a boy with a coin he crammed in his jeans / then making a wish he tossed in the sea / walked to a town that all of us burn / when god left the ground to circle the world

devil’s resting place - laura marling

i woke up one morning to know that i had gone / finally taken the step and jumped right off the wall / when you come to call on me that's why my eyes are glazed / i've been with the devil in the devil's resting place / i am loathe to say that i have been to stay / i've been with the devil in the devil's resting place

little soldiers - the crane wives

now the aftermath will ring with songs you've sung / all of our words sent home in boxes / i fought with tooth and nail before the flag had flown / but you were already gone

c’mon baby, cry - orville peck

i can see the sadness in your eyes / you've been tryna hide what you left behind / they say it's darkest before the dawn / but you've been smiling for so long / a thousand teardrops can't be wrong, no

another travelin’ song - bright eyes

well i'm changing all my strings / i'm gonna write another traveling song / about all the billion highways and the cities at the break of dawn / well i guess the best that i can do now is pretend that i've done nothing wrong / and to dream about a train that's gonna take me back where i belong

[afniel]

I posted 1,406 times in 2022

That's 645 more posts than 2021!

96 posts created (7%)

1,310 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@catgirlwheels

@vaspider

@zypiris

@woolen-feathers

@hockpock

I tagged 295 of my posts in 2022

#faepunk - 21 posts

#food - 8 posts

#chronic pain - 8 posts

#chronic fatigue - 7 posts

#fibro - 5 posts

#disability - 5 posts

#game dev - 4 posts

#medical - 4 posts

#fibromyalgia - 4 posts

#minecraft - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#he went on to tell me that i'm not allowed to work on sprites or anything today because i'm running myself into the ground mentally over it

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I just dreamed the newest Tumblr meme was posting pictures of baroque art with your estimation of how long it would take you to destroy said piece of art, frequently along with very aggressive assertions that your guess was exactly right down to the second...what the fuck, sleeping me?

29 notes - Posted June 16, 2022

#4

Psst. Do you like white mochas? Do you not want to give Starbucks money right now because they're a bunch of union busting assholes? 'Cause I got something special just for you.

I have reverse engineered the ingredient list I remember off their white mocha bottles from when I worked there, and made it about ten times better, and it is mad easy to make at home.

YOU'RE GONNA WANT:

A bar of good quality white chocolate; Ghirardelli's baking bars are fantastic for this. Look for something that's mostly cocoa butter.

About 3-4 tablespoons of sweetened condensed milk

About a tablespoon of heavy cream

About a tablespoon of boiling water

A dash of salt

Break the white chocolate up and put it into a small microwave-safe container. Microwave it on high for 30 second intervals, stirring between each one, until it's good and melted.

Drop 3 or 4 tablespoons of sweetened condensed milk in there. It's not an exact measurement because let's be honest, that stuff's hard to measure.

Start mixing.

It will immediately seize into a solid mass and you'll think I'm fucking with you after all. This is normal. Chocolate is an incredibly weird emulsion and this is just how the chocolate do when it sees a water molecule! Stir until it's at least a uniform solid mass, and then add a tablespoon of boiling water. The hotter the better.

After a little bit it'll unseize and abruptly turn smooth again. If it doesn't, hit it with another teaspoon of boiling water and it will.

Add that tablespoon of heavy cream and mix in. You can even make it two tablespoons if you want. I'm not the boss of you.

Add a dash of salt to taste. I'm a two-dash kinda person myself, because it counters how much sugar is in it. Which is a lot.

And boom. That's it. You now have white mocha sauce comparable to any coffee chain's brand except actually it's way better. Store it covered in the fridge, it'll keep a while but it's probably best to use it within the week since it's got fresh dairy ingredients.

Can it be made vegan? Probably but you'd have to find white chocolate with no dairy additives to start with, and then sweetened condensed non-dairy milk if that exists, and probably use coconut cream, and I dunno I haven't tried at all so you're on your own for that if you want to experiment.

Anyway, enjoy your white mocha sauce, fuck Starbucks, union strong. ✊🏻

65 notes - Posted July 15, 2022

#3

Annual petition to put thorn and eth back in the alphabet. Icelandic gets ðem, why can't we have nice þings too.

92 notes - Posted September 27, 2022

#2

Feminist spaces are currently pretty hostile to men, particularly those who want to talk about what they face under patriarchy, and who want to participate without being pressured to self-flagellate or allow themselves to be a target for other people's unrelated frustrations.

Oh, there it is. There's why I hate it so much when someone's like "all men are dogs" or whatever right to my face, and even more angry when they say, "shut up and don't argue with me because you should know I don't mean you, but you're being part of the problem now."

If they so obviously don't mean to include me, are they saying then that I'm not a man? I'll fucking fight. And it is NEVER, EVER "part of the problem" for a trans person to deny someone the ability to talk shit about them on the basis of their gender.

It's not my job to be a punching bag for shit I didn't do. There's certainly things I'll accept that I've been complicit in, even if it was through ignorance. That, however, is not one of them.

(Emphasis mine, text from a post by nothorses that I didn't want to hijack just to make a personal point on.)

97 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

516 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[doubleddenden]

I've been quietly working on a fakemon region for 15+ years

You'd think I'd have made a lot of progress...well, yeah? But also nah

I have a lot of designs made. I even have regional variants and regional exclusive evolutions. My main issues I have is that

A. I need to redo most of them, because the older ones look like absolute shit

B. I need to make a bunch. Evolutions, pre evolutions, etc.

C. I need to finish a bunch

And you know what? With over 106 things I gotta work on for the base dex, do you know what my dumbass self decides?

I decided on a regional gimmick I wanna try

...

Well, a second one. The first one is a type changing scarf that changes or adds a secondary type, which I made before gen 9's Terrastilizing. Basically Pikachu with a Dark Scarf becomes Electric/Dark, whereas a Charizard with a Dark Scarf goes from Fire Flying to Fire Dark. Simple right?

So the second one is similar, just... makes more work for me lol

But it has potential to be cool design wise and offer a ton of variety.

Still workshopping the name, but the concept is somewhat similar to Armor Digivolving from Digimon. Basically with the power of certain items, some Pokemon can be temporarily evolved into another and changed back at will. In fact, said form can be attained at any point in the evolutionary line.

So for instance: a Pikachu could have 3 of these evolutions, but so does Pichu and Raichu. One form might be Electric/water, electric/flying, or electric/steel, and all have a unique ability.

The way it works is that for a Pokemon like Pichu, said evolution would give it the same bst as Pikachu, and for Pikachu, the same bst as Raichu, but as a fully evolved Pokemon it does not gain more than that. Each evolution would take the bst of said Pokemon and rearrange the stats to suit its needs (like a scyther/scizor situation), plus come with 1 or 2 level appropriate moves upon evolution.

Pokemon using this method do not level up while in this form, but they do "hold" the experience until they are taken out of the form, in which case it gains any accumulated exp at once- like Shadow Pokemon in Colosseum until they're purified.

This is not a hold item, but rather an item you can use multiple times to activate or deactivate the evolution from your bag. They're not the equivalent of megas- remember, same bst- so it's just meant to give you more strategies to try out.

Oh, and you can teach them tms, including new ones they couldn't learn before. Certain moves, however, will be forgotten when you turn it back.

As far as how many there'd be- I'm still workshopping it, but some can have 1, some can have 2, and some can even have 3. Some can even share a form, such as Heracross and Pinsir.

For some, there's even an advanced form- akin to Golden Armor Digivolving basically- that actually DOES give them a Stat boost- basically picture Charizard becoming Reshiram or something. Only a small handful, though.

As far as story goes, I have it in my head, I even have a pretty rough layout of the beginning in PowerPoint format, but it is mainly concepts, rough explanations, and dialog.

I also have a bunch of trainer sprites made.

As far as actually programming, uhhhh I have Pokemon Essentials. I tried to follow a tutorial and already screwed up. It's tough as hell

Don't get me started on music. Idk how to even start that

And to make even MORE work for myself, I'm thinking about trying to remove my "signature" styling quirk to make it more normal styled. It's hard to quit tbh but I wanna try.

Keep in mind the most help I've had is getting input from friends about some stuff. I wish I had a team working on this lol

Anyway that's all

[moeitsu]

Number 7 pls!!

Also, who is that in your profile? If ya don’t mind me asking.

My profile pic is of Tamino Amir. He’s a Belgian-Egyptian artist and makes beautiful music. I would recommend him to anyone. I saw him live in February with Mitski and literally cried the entire time. He’s also drop dead gorgeous the man literally looks like a god.

I’m rambling.

Number 7: what tattoos i have and their meaning.

I’m actually really happy you asked that one because I have so many tattoos and i love them ALL!

Okay, I have 12 tattoos. I’ll try to keep it short tho.

1. “Spirit Lead Me” on my bicep. This was my 1st tattoo I got for my 18th bday. It’s from Psalm 143. I’m not really a religious person anymore, but I still appreciate the message. The whole verse is “Teach me to do your will, for you are my God. Show me what you want me to do, and let your gentle spirit lead me in the right path.”

2. A small bouquet of flowers on my hip. This one doesn’t have much meaning. It was a last minute tattoo i got because my friend was getting one and the artist was really chill and was like “you want one too?” And i just said sure and let him pick the art. Looking back, i don’t know why i did that😂

3. A Luna moth on my shoulder. I’ve always considered myself more of a moth than a butterfly, if that makes any sense. I took a picture of a Luna moth was i was 16 and i was obsessed with them ever since. Fun fact: the day i got it tattooed i got a Snapchat memory that i took that moth photo 3 years ago on the same day. It was just meant to be.

4. The master sword from Legend of Zelda on my arm. This one is kinda self explanatory. I just fucking love the games. I played my first was i was 9 years old and it became my entire personality for the rest of my life.

5. A soot sprite on my ankle. This one also doesn’t really have a meaning. A friend of mine had finished her tattoo apprenticeship and was doing small pieces on people as practice. So i asked her to practice on me and she gave me a cute little soot sprite.

6. “Set your heart ablaze” on my rib cage. I got this after the demon slayer movie. It’s one of my favorite animes, and Rengoku was such an important character to me.

7. An evil eye with a tear drop under the back of my neck. I’ve always worn the evil eye since i was young. I don’t remember when i started or why, but I’ve always had a necklace or a keychain or earrings with it on. I liked the idea of it on my back bc in my mind it wards off any negativity that people might send me when my back is turned.

8. A cecropia moth on my other shoulder. Not so much meaning behind this one. My other shoulder felt naked and i wanted to add symmetry with another insect. I chose the cecropia moth bc I found one in the woods one time and I felt like some kind of woodland fairy. It was literally the size of my hand.

9. 333. It’s my Angel number. I see it everywhere, and at least once a day. I was also born on the 3rd day of the 9th month and 3 was always a prevalent number growing up. (I was on bus #3. My childhood apt was #3. Me and my sibs make 3, ect)

10. A maple seed. I got this tattoo for my current partner. We’ve been together 7 years and on our second date we walked a nature trail and we had talked about watching the notebook later and I made a comment about “how romantic would it be if we kissed in the rain”, it was not raining that day. So he picked up handfuls of maple seeds and threw them in the air. They rained around us and he kissed me under them. It’s probably one of my favorite memories.

11. Peter Rabbit hugging his momma. This tattoo was dedicated to my mom. My nursery as a baby was Peter Rabbit themed, and I still have a lot of the decorations still in my room 24 years later :’) I also love my mom a lot.

12. A heart locket with my childhood cat in the frame. Pretty self explanatory. It was dedicated in his memory. He was literally the best cat ever and i miss him everyday. He passed on my 19th bday.

Thank you so much for asking Anon!!! I really enjoyed diving into this :)

[inprogresspokemon]

FAQ

About Me

Hey there, you can call me IPP (In-Progress Pokemon) or Jae. Any pronoun (he/she/they) is fine. I started this blog in late October 2014 and it has become a passion project for me, that will possibly never end because TPC keeps adding new Pokemon.

My first Pokemon game was Red Version and my favorite Pokemon are Swampert and Noivern. Out of the Gen 9 Starters I am currently team Fuecoco.

I have a pet Blue Tongue Skink named Burrito (he is a good, chubby boy).

What does In-Progress Pokemon mean?/What are these?

In-Progress Pokemon is my name for the concept of exploring how Pokemon might look if they physically transitioned from one evolutionary stage to another. Basically: if Pokemon grew rather than evolved. The “transitional stages” that I illustrate aren’t meant to be taken as actual additional stages; rather, as a “snap-shot” in time while the Pokemon is growing or transitioning between each evolutionary stage. The flavor text/descriptions help to bridge the evolutionary gaps as well.

I also post other Pokemon-related art, like commissioned Fakemon or my Dual-Type Eeveelutions.

When do you update/post new art?

My upload schedule for new art is every Monday and Thursday, 2:00pm EST. They’re reblogged in the evening at 8:00pm EST, and again on Sunday.

I try to always have something new to post for those days, but occasionally have to skip updates when I didn’t have enough time to finish something. I reblog older art at 2pm and 4pm on other days - they’re tagged as “old art” and “IPPreblog” if you want to blacklist them.

New art only view is here.

If they’re not meant to be new stages, why are they named? Can I suggest a name?

Originally I didn’t name them, but after time people began to suggest names, and it’s turned into something I do regularly now. When I post a new Pokemon line, people suggest names for the transitional stages and after a while I’ll look through the suggested names and pick the one I think fit best (based on origin, existing name scheme, etc) - I don’t come up with the names myself.

You’re welcome to suggest a name by reblogging, commenting, or messaging me. When the time comes I’ll make a post with all the suggestions, and I’ll tag you if I go with your name or a name you’ve seconded or showed support for.

If you decide to suggest a name, please include a brief breakdown of your suggestion inspirations (ie: Charmander is a combination of char + salamander).

Have you done [X] Pokemon?

At this point... probably! If you’re on mobile, you can try the search function or look up any Pokemon using my mobile index.

If you’re on desktop, I recommend my sprited Pokemon Index.

Both are kept up-to-date.

How’s your progress going?

They keep introducing new Pokemon, but I’m getting pretty close. As of Early 2022, only a few Pokemon lines are left pre-PLA, and now I have some new Hisuian Pokemon added to the plate that I’m quickly getting to.

What’s up with the redos?

When I started in 2014 I had little to no digital art experience, and a lot of my older art shows this. I’m in the process of redoing older lines and either updating their existing design in my current style, or redoing the design and concept completely. I dislike having my older (imo bad) art out there, so redos is a priority for me, although I know it’s not as interesting for my followers so I try to space them out. I also tend to do redos when I don’t have the time or motivation for anything else. 

I post redo compilations periodically if you want to see a comparison.

Are you okay with fanart?

I absolutely love fanart, it makes my day and fills me with joy. Please tag me if you post it so I can see and reblog your art!!

Can I use your Fakemon...

...as my profile picture? Yes - please just credit me if anyone asks about it.

...in my fanfiction? Yes - please credit me somewhere in the notes (etc.) if your fanfiction is posted publicly. Bonus points if you link to the original post for the fakemon you’re using.

...to make an OC? Yes - please credit me for the base design/species when your OC is first posted, but you don’t need to keep including credit every time going forward. And if anyone asks, please credit me.

...in my Youtube video? As a general rule, I’m fine with that so long as I’m credited and linked to in the description, but I prefer if you ask me first if you plan on my work being a large part of your video. Using a single image here or there is fine as long as I’m credited.

...in my fangame? Sorry, but I’m not allowing my fakemon in fangames or rom hacks at this time.

All that said, I can’t grant permission for Fakemon that were commissioned and belong to the commissioner, although I’m always willing to try reaching out to the commissioner and ask permission on your behalf. It will always say on my posts if a Fakemon was commissioned and belongs to someone else.

What about Mega Pokemon?

Yes, I’m doing those too.

What about Gigantamax Pokemon?

As of now, I’m not planning on doing them. They’re large, time-consuming, and I don’t really like them. I may do them in the future once I’ve completed the main lines and Megas, but no promises.

Commissions?

Yes, I take commissions, though I close them when I have too many commissioned queued or if my IRL is very busy. The pinned post on the top of my blog shows my commission status.

I’m in the process of revamping my commission info page to have images and be more up-to-date, but my old page is here.

I mainly do Pokemon-related commissions, but I do take others, I just don’t post them here. If you’re looking for a non-Pokemon related commission, just ask!

I accept payment only once I’m able to start to your commission and do my business through PayPal invoices, which you can pay with a PayPal account if you have one, or a credit or debit card if you do not.

Depending on what you’re looking to commission, we can work as collaboratively as you like. Some people just want me to make a certain thing and like being surprised with the final result, some people have a firm vision and want to be able to give feedback during the designing process and make changes, some people fall somewhere in the middle. Whatever you prefer is fine.

Social Media:

Email IPPcommissions@gmail.com (commissions)

           inprogresspokemon@gmail.com (other)

Instagram @inprogresspokemon

Facebook In-Progress Pokemon

DeviantArt InProgressPokemon

Twitter @Inprogresspokes

I am only active on Tumblr these days, but I plan to return to DeviantArt and Instagram sometime soon.

Can I submit/ask/chat with you about something? 

Yes, here is my submissions page, and here is my asks page.

And you can always send me a chat message, though I get a lot of them and can’t always respond right away.

Did you get my message? Why haven’t you responded yet?

Sorry, sometimes it takes me a while to get to messages. I also try to space them out so I’m not filling the blog with them. It’s never personal. If I never responded to your message, or it’s been weeks, it’s possible I never got it, or more likely, it has gotten buried under other asks before I was able to respond. If you need to hear from me about something, you can send me a chat message or resend your ask.

I don’t want to clutter people’s dashboards, so I tend to not respond to a lot of anonymous asks if I feel they don’t require a response, but I read them and I especially appreciate the kind words that some of you send my way; they help to keep my spirits up! If you want to send me and ask and prefer a private response, feel free to put (private) at the end of your non-anon message and I will respond privately.

What program do you use?:

I use Paint Tool SAI for the sketch, line art, and coloring, and Photoshop CC for the text/editing/backgrounds.

My general settings info is here.

Tagging, ie: I don’t want to see [X] or I want to find [X]:

I tag everything. You can search for Pokemon by name, type, generation, region, as well as for starter Pokemon and Eeveelutions. You can also blacklist certain things you aren’t interested in seeing on your dashboard.

Other tags:

IPPasks - my ask tag

IPPnews/IPPupdates - news and updates for the blog

IPPnames/name suggestions - for reblogs where a Pokemon is named

IPPreblog/reblog/old art - for reblogs of old art, for any reason

IPPdiscussions - longer discussions or explorations of a topic

IPPdoodles - for random Pokemon sketches and doodles

IPPfanart - my fanart tag!

dual types - posts about the Dual-Type Eeveelutions

baby version - Pokemon lines that have a bonus baby form

[X] bothers me, can you tag it?

Yes - if seeing or reading something bothers you, please let me know and I will do my best to tag it for you going forward.

[crypticspacecat]

Coffee and Poetry 2/3 (Yan!JotaroxBlack!Femreader)

Click HERE for part 1

PART 3

All of the poems in this chapter are written by me. This is a reference to what look I wanted for y/n in this chapter (mainly hairstyle):

https://pin.it/2Sdp9rs

Also, when Jotaro reads his poem, I highly suggest you listen to this song with it as it was a huge inspiration

https://youtu.be/H_WzjiTzZBA

I'll probably post the last part either Friday night or Saturday.

Enjoy! :D

Friday

“Hey, it’s the day. Aw, you look great!” Rose compliments leaning against my door. I want to try something different, so I decide to use the extensions I bought a while back to do bubble pigtails with some slick baby hairs. I usually go to class in sweats, but I instead go for a lavender crop top with “baby girl” across the chest and light high-waist jeans that lifts my butt nicely.

“Thanks! I wanted a bit of a change and I also did a massive online shopping haul.” I said while applying my lip gloss. Checking myself out in the mirror, I haven't felt this attractive in a while. I especially notice how the crop top makes my chest more pronounced while my jeans accentuate my hips and shows off my toned butt. I feel like a bad bitch!

“It’s about time you show your curves more! You got killer curves, flaunt it bitch! Maybe you know who will come your way.” She taunts me while I gather my things for class.

“Oh come on! I don’t think it was like that. Besides, from his energy, he just doesn’t want to be bothered.” I retorted. I grab my key before bidding my goodbyes to Rose. I head down the stairs of the apartment and make my way to campus. I wish I had told Rose about last night, but I didn’t want to alarm her. God knows she can go from 1 to 100 in milliseconds. Thinking about last night still shakes me up.

“I’m going to 7/11, do you want anything?” I asked Rose, pulling my head through my oversized hoodie. Rose shook her head and I headed out the door. I didn’t forget my pepper spray as it is getting darker. The 10-minute walk went unsurprisingly quickly as my playlist kept me energetic. The usual entrance bell rang and I was greeted by the clerk. I got my usual bag of sweet chili Doritos and sprite. I went up to the front desk and made small talk with the clerk as he checked out my items.

“It’s pretty dark out ain’t it?”

“Yeah, but sometimes you gotta satisfy those cravings.”

“Very true, but do be careful out there. Those frat boys are having a get-together tonight and you know how they get.”

“Oh trust me, I always bring my pepper spray.” I reassured him. I grabbed my things and left for my apartment. I walk up the street and hear the party despite having my earphones in.

“Loud ass motherfuckers..” I whispered to myself before hearing footsteps. I quickly turn around to see no one around. Not even a shadow. I took off my earphones just in case of an ambush. I keep walking but am now hyper-aware of my surroundings. I quicken my pace to make sure who or whatever is tailing me may give up. I come closer to my apartment and I hear a loud click like someone was taking a picture. I try to find the source of the sound, only to find nothing around me. The clicks continue as my panic sets in. I freeze in my tracks, my body won’t move and my breathing becomes shallow. I heard the footsteps come closer and I went into flight mode.

“Fuck!” I yelled and bolted to my apartment without a second thought. My shitty endurance wanted me to stop but I couldn’t. My lungs were on fire and my legs were gonna give out, but I made it. I slowly turn around to see no one behind me. Sighing in relief, I entered quietly to not wake up Rose. I silently scold myself for forgetting my pepper spray as I rest my exhausted legs on the couch.

Thinking about last night’s potential horror scene, I walk into the classroom and wave to Kakyoin.

“Hey, (y/n)! Ready for today?” Kakyoin asks with his poem out and ready. I nod with a small grin.

“Oh yeah, I did have to practice presenting it with Rose but I totally got it down. I would ask you the same, but you’re always prepared.” I joked.

“You know what I’m wondering?”

“What’s up?”

“What do you think Jotaro wrote?” Kakyoin pondered. How did I even forget he’s in this class too? To be fair, he is super quiet.

“I’m not sure, I think it’ll be interesting though.” I answered. He doesn’t seem like the emotional type, so I don’t expect anything too complex.

“You know I did ask him what he wrote, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

“You know Jotaro?” I questioned and he nods in response.

“We met through our part-time job.” He answers and speaking of the devil, here he comes. Something about him, his aura, and the way he walks. Even the way he talks (which hearing him is rare unless he's yelling at his fangirls) is ominous and almost threatening. He always stands out with his white hat and trench coat, his height didn't help him blend in much either. You can never read his face, a total mystery he is. Not too far behind him was our professor with her usual cheery self.

“Good morning! As you know, today you all will be turning in and presenting your poetry. I’m looking forward to seeing them! Who wants to go first?” She beamed. Of course, Kakyoin raises his hand. I’ve always admired his writing, he’s been a huge help in this class by helping me with more creative stories and poems.

“Great! Everyone please pay attention and keep the talking to a minimum.” The professor instructed. Kakyoin wastes no time starting on his poem.

“I have a warrior’s heart

You will not hurt me

You will never break me

My life was dark

I was weak

My demons tormented me

Not anymore

I wear my armor with pride

I’m taking my life back

and you can’t stop me

My past is behind me

and my future is bright

They will not bring me down

I will not give in to their misery

I am a warrior”

His poem rightfully earns a few claps and praises, especially from the professor. I remember Kakyoin mentioning his childhood to me while we were hanging out in my apartment the first week of school, this poem is quite fitting for him. For the next 5 minutes, a couple more students volunteered to present their poems. Some good and some pretty cringe but we all start somewhere.

“(y/n), would you like to go next?” The professor asked. I nod and walk towards the front of the classroom. I take a small breath as all eyes are on me, especially his. The intensity of his blue eyes increases my anxiety, I can never tell what’s behind those eyes. It’s quite peculiar. I already hate public speaking, he's not making this any easier on me. It's almost like he's checking out my body. Is there lust behind that glare? Does my outfit draw too much attention? I shake my head at these unnecessary thoughts. Let’s just get this over with.

“It’s been months…

Months since you brought me here and left me to die. Bare feet walking on the dirt, the blisters don’t hurt as much anymore. The wildlife looks at me with deep pity. The trees have become my only friends, their words of wisdom have kept me alive.

“You cannot change people, no matter how much you think they need to change. People change themselves”

“Though these times are difficult, they are only a short phase of life”

“Worry does not beget change”

I meditate day and night, the wind comforts me. I sometimes dance in the rain, letting the water weigh down my curls. My pen has become my weapon as I no longer long for blood. The words I write spill out of me and drown in my tears. You’ll never come back and I’m not sure that I'll be ok. Those promises you made, you never meant them.

Spring has resurrected the magnolia and the sun kisses me. I no longer cry, I keep going. I trek through the evergreens, only relying on the wisdom of the trees. I sometimes long to go back, but I came too far. The old life I knew has now ceased to exist. The wind hugs me as I know that this journey will be lonely and excruciating.

“You are loved”

“You are protected”

“You will not receive closure for every situation, but you can create it for yourself”

Silenced and unheard by others, I can finally speak my truth. A heart that has been frozen by trauma slowly melts. Once an impossible dream will now come to fruition. The love that I deserved, will find its way to me. I cry no more for you. You choose to leave me behind and behind me, you will stay.”

The room is silent for a moment before getting a few praises from classmates with his eyes still burning through me. Almost as if he's angry on my behalf.

“Wonderful poem, (y/n)! I can really feel the emotion in your piece, I’m proud of your improvement!” The professor praised. I quietly sit back down and politely listen to the other students' poems, I still feel his intense stare. At this point, I don’t think he cares to hide it. As another student finishes, the professor looks at Jotaro.

“Ah, Jotaro! Looks like you’re the last student today.” She pointed out. He slowly gets up and coolly walks to the front of the class. Every step he takes feels like it's in slow motion, his hat covering half of his face increasing his mysterious aura. Some girls look towards him with heart-shaped eyes while everyone else is waiting for class to end.

“Ready whenever you are.” The professor tells him and he grunts in response.

“The intoxicating aroma of coffee can’t compare,

Will never compare

To the scent of shea butter that arouses me

Chocolate eyes, and those plump lips begging to be kissed

Darling, why won’t you be mine?

Let me take you tonight

Let me feel every curve

Run my fingers through your curls

Hold you in my arms

Trace my fingers across your caramel skin

Feel your body on mine

Taste your brown sugar

Stay with me and I’ll keep you safe

Angel, my passion for you will never die”

The whole class falls silent and time stops. Wait a damn minute, who is he talking about? Ain’t no way in hell...

“Wonderful job Jotaro! I didn’t expect that kind of concept from you, bravo!” The professor beamed as he goes back to his seat. The class is still speechless, including me. I suddenly hear whispers.

“Jojo has a crush?”

“No way bro! I thought he was asexual or somethin’”

“The actual question is, who is it about?”

“Whoever she is, I’m pretty jealous. She’s super lucky.”

The more whispers I hear, the more my brain starts to short circuit. My internal screaming is soon interrupted by my professor’s cheerful announcement.

“Before class ends for today, I have two things. One, I’m proud of all of you for giving your best effort on this assignment! Your scores should be posted by the end of next week. Also, I have a project for you all. You will be in pairs writing a play together. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to choose your own partners, your assigned partner will be on this billboard. I will talk more about this project in the next class. Have a great weekend!” She announced and everyone gets up to see the billboard. I manage to squeeze through to take a glance at my assigned partner.

“(y/n) and Jotaro Kujo”

Of fucking course.

“So Mr. Man is your partner? And he wrote a poem about you?”

“Yes, he is my partner and no Rose, that wasn’t about me. Jesus Christ!” I shoot back while washing my face. Why would it be about me? He could have anyone he wanted, it’s probably one of his fangirls. She then shakes her head and shoots me a concerned look.

“(y/n), I get it. You haven’t been yourself since the incident. Derrick is a slimy dick who lost a great person. You are beautiful, of course there will be someone crazy about you. I mean your skin is damn beautiful and it looks damn good in the sun. And your body? Chile, If I was gay, I’d be all over that ass!” Rose exclaimed while playfully slapping my butt, making me chuckle softly. Honestly, she is right about my self-esteem crashing down. Since that incident, I just didn’t feel beautiful. I couldn’t see what anyone would like about me. I believed every venomous word he spat at me when I confronted him.

“Boring”

“Fat”

“Prude”

“Ugly”

“Who would want you? Honestly, I did you a favor!”

Writing that poem put into perspective how wicked he was. I can’t let him continue to have me by the throat, I never needed that toxic energy in my life. Thank God I didn't have sex with that cretin.

“Ok, I do feel a little better, but how can I be sure the poem was about me?” I questioned.

“I think we’ll just have to wait and find out.” She replied and I nod in agreement. I don’t want to get my hopes up. I mean, Jotaro is fine as hell but I don’t know a single thing about him. Not even his favorite color. I guess it’s a good thing we are partners after all.

One week later

“Ok class, now that you all are paired up, let me explain the project. You and your partner will be creating a play with at least 5 acts. Please try to keep adult themes to a minimum. You don’t have to act out the play, but if you do you will get bonus points. The project will be due in 4 weeks so please no slacking!” The professor instructs then everyone goes over to their partner. I start to gather my things when a shadow engulfs me. I slowly look up to see Jotaro staring down at me. Holy shit, he’s huge.

“Oh, hey.” I greeted. I was met with a soft ‘hmph’ as he sits directly across from me. After a moment of awkward silence, we start to suggest ideas to each other. With both of us somewhat lacking in the coming up with plots department, it's gonna be a while until we both agree on something.

“Well, what about a plot where two characters get trapped in a haunted mansion? It’s not super original, but it can work.” He suggested.

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” I said, looking at the time. We both realize that class is almost over and Jotaro quickly pulls out his phone.

“How about we talk more about it over the weekend?” He suggested.

“Sure, where should we-”

“We can work on it at my house.”

“Oh ok, where is-”

“I’ll pick you up, here’s my number.” He bluntly stated and swapped our phones. Usually, someone being so rude would get cussed out but I’m damn near speechless. I just nod and enter my phone number. We swapped back phones and he abruptly leaves, leaving me stunned.

What just happened?

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: A VERY Sleepless Night With Phil

Date video was published: 11/20/2016 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 329

The last solo-Phil video of 2016. Also the second Sleepless Night video of the year; the other one was back in February.

0:07 - Phil sounds like he has had too much sugar and/or caffeine

0:10 - never know whether to believe his timecodes in these, but this doesn’t seem that unreasonable

0:15 - DNP were in LA for the DAPGOOSE event there; they just got back on November 18 so he really is filming this shortly after that

0:42 - close-up eye. looks very green here

0:44 - definitely cold after being in LA

0:58 - so much leg rubbing 😳

1:18 - that amount of mess is giving me intense anxiety; I would have to clean it immediately or at least shove it out of sight

1:24 - I love a good cape-blanket

1:29 - the BONCAS 😭 will talk about more at the end of this post

1:42 - Phil wardrobe tour! 

1:55 - brief cut to shirtless Phil. back in the early days of YouTube he was literally shirtless on camera all the time

1:59 - I love that bird shirt SO MUCH. He and Dan had to coordinate with the shiny jackets though

2:15 - I like that one less. surprised at the black-and-white prints for Phil, actually, instead of color!

2:24 - the one he will go with indeed. feel like he had already fully decided before filming this

2:33 - that’s a look 😂

2:37 - Phil really loves an interesting shoe

2:51 - awww, he still doesn’t love dressing fancy or feel that confident about it 😕 his more recent suit looks are good though!

3:00 - so the pile in front of the wardrobe wasn’t even from his suitcase...I’m even more horrified now

3:08 - neither of them wore that wig in the anime video

3:17 - yeah better question is why did he keep the wicker bed for 5 years, yikes

3:23 - that wig is more disturbing than Phil’s old hair

3:30 - hmmmm, maybe but he certainly hasn’t seemed concerned about the noise to this point

3:44 - fox-mating interlude, lovely. glad Phil can tell us exactly what it sounded like...

3:54 - if true, there was over and hour between the foxes and this. yes, good book!

4:11 - “I look like a potato” 😂

4:15 - very self-aware about what most of the comments would be if he didn’t address this, haha

4:23 - mirrored view with fringe the other way always looks just slightly strange

4:30 - THE PHOTO BOOTH CHALLENGE shout-out!

4:40 - cute! had to clarify with that “I’m not a furry, I promise” though 👀

5:05 - these are getting progressively more disturbing...also “I’m licking myself” um. 😳

5:37 - he’s so proud of himself. This is exactly the kind of thing you get really proud of in the middle of the night on too little sleep

5:54 - that is a sad amount of cereal

6:21 - dipping cookies in tea is amazing and I don’t do it enough. actually I think he’s got milk here though

6:44 - he is in fully bored mode at this point

6:47 - Phil loves a festive theme

7:00 - that’s from when he filmed Sprite Advert way back in 2007

7:02 - this is quite the photo, lol

7:12 - he certainly had some interesting profile pictures. he is going to regret these being on the internet forever

7:30 - he is really sharing all of them huh 😂 I do love that he can laugh at himself

7:52 - it must have been annoying to have to go downstairs to go to the bathroom every time

7:59 - nice of the neighbor to tell that that 4+ years in...whoops

8:13 - Phil glasses! pretty sure those are the ones he wears most of the time after this

8:22 - referencing the last sleepless night video

8:45 - ahahaha, it’s the “raw chicken breast” crystal. I didn’t realize he had had that for so long

8:56 - he does not sound tired. The first timestamp he put in the video was 1:43 am and this last one is 6:26am, so a bit over 4.5 hours

9:05 - he sounds way too awake during this merch promo and outro to be ready to go to sleep immediately afterwards

9:47 - still doing TATINOF shows! They were in Dublin just a day after this was posted (1, 2), then Berlin a week later (1, 2, 3).

9:56 - how did he even manage to do that?! poor Phil. too much violent gesturing

10:58 - yes there is no escape

This is my favorite of the sleepless night videos! Just casual Phil updates and chats. 😊

Just a couple of days after this were the BONCAs, which Phil was trying on clothes for. DNP had coordinating shiny suits and won three awards. Also this happened when Phil won “creator of the year.” 😭😭😭 Here’s a whole compilation of DNP that night as well.

[nerdychatterbox]

Thoughts on Ethersea so far

Overall I am ba-da-ba-ba-ba loving it; these characters are fascinating and diverse, the seeds being planted are exciting, and the world-building has been a blast. Here are some specific questions / predictions / issues / standout moments I want to ramble on about:

(Spoilers through episode 7 of Ethersea )

*The Cern family: Devo mentions the Cern family twice; once when pretending to be Jack Noir (says they hired him as a private investigator) and once to Felix (saying they'll cover his debt, no questions asked, in the event of his passing). The first mention felt like a goof, and a good one, but that second mention felt perhaps more grounded... is that Devo's default name to use when lying, or is this family actually connected to him in some way? I'm excited to find out.

*The Katana: when the crew first boards the corsair ship Emery is said to have a katana behind his back, which Griffin mentions is odd ("He reaches behind his back and pulls out a katana, which is weird? And like, sets it down on the ground..." Ep4 1:14:30). Beck later picks it up for self defense [and takes it with her to the Dreams of Debra. She presumably still has it.] I wonder if this was taken from the gallery when they looted it and it is going to turn out to be some amazing artifact from surface life.

*Ship cost: I fully understand that a DM/Game Leader has full authority to (re)design the world while they're in it, and I fully understand not wanting your PCs to have too much power/access too early in a story. Having said that, in ep 2 Griffin told them a ship would cost about 20 lux; I'm betting that's why the Curator was planning to give them 25 lux (enough for a ship and one or two add-ons from Felix). Then they manage to get 42 lux from the Curator, and suddenly getting a run-down, old ship costs 30 lux... I get it, I do, but it still bugs me a little.

*YumNut(TM) shenanigans: When they discover the YumNut(TM) it is very clear that either Clint knows his son well-enough to sense shenanigans or Zoox has great passive perception about caution in the wild, and yet the dice are ignored. When they're working to get the YumNut(TM) Zoox makes it very clear they're not cutting roots, they're gently prying. They specify that they sense unease in the environment (ignored). They even roll an investigation check and get a 17, which Griffin acknowledges is high, but then he says, "We'll sit on that" and never returns to it. There was every opportunity for Zoox to discover the turtle ahead of time and avoid some/all of their Hurtle-based fate, even from the dice, but it didn't happen. I get that a GM (especially in an actual-play podcast situation) would want to keep the tension and allow for the reveal, but it's a bummer to feel like the story isn't true to the tools. And I know good and GD well that if Travis were helming that moment, he'd be dragged for railroading... I'm assuming that the Hurtle, not the YumNut(TM) was what they rolled on the encounter table, so maybe Griffin felt like it wasn't fair to allow them to escape it, but that's not fair either, because they could have ignored Guthrie's suggestion to acquire The Nut in the first place. I don't know, I never really criticize Griffin's story-leading, this just bugged me, especially after how folks treated Travis in Graduation.

*Dr Shaq: Fantastic bit, could've been forgettable, but they all chipped in to make it hella memorable, and NOW the freakin September Pin Of The Month is none other than Dr Shaq!! It's adorable, it's for a good cause, and it makes it more likely we'll see them again, so heck yes.

*The Parrish: I’m loving the hints of backstory so far. I’m used to the boys dropping hints about their personal experience with (and hesitance about) the church, knowing they grew up in it, but I don’t feel like I have tons of reference for Clint responding to that, and I find I’m very curious to see how he’ll participate. Obviously it’ll all be in character, I’m just curious. And this Hand of Guidance is going to be fascinating to learn more about…

*Ship worms (Phantam Sea Coast Co.): I really love the visual of these ship worms sliding up through the floor or walls to do Felix’s bidding, and I’ma need some animatics immediately. Once Griff stared describing them in job-specific attire (one with glasses, one with a visor, etc) I started picturing Lowly Worm from the Richard Scarry books, and it’s giving me life (did I just age myself with that reference? Probably)

*URCHIN: Y’ALL!!! As soon as Griff started describing that thing I KNEW it was a sea urchin, and it is adorable, and I love it, and I want one, please put a plushie in the next merch drop, athankyou! Having this reaction to it probably means it’ll turn out to be a little shit but I don’t care, I’m picturing a soot sprite with a live bomb and I want one!

*Devo: I loved learning that Devo is short for Devotion, and knowing the bois were church kids I love this bit of “the shine is off the apple” in a way that feels tangible for them

[silvercrystalwhump]

Little thing based on an idea for Ash

@ashintheairlikesnow owns all of these characters I just an idea one day and decided- Hey I'ma write this. Enjoy

TW: implied noncon, noncon photo taking, general bbu warning, Owen Grant exists

-

Vincent drums his fingers across the wood with nails bitten to near bleeding. A hard drive sits on the table in front of him, almost eating at his eyes by simply existing. It’s red, and the word Memories is written on the side. His eyes bore into the table, wanting the hard drive to combust and leave his life.

“You know I could always see what's on there?”

James, the only person other than his therapist to know about Owen, leans by an open window. The sound of Blue Jays singing outside dances through his words like background music on set. The only reason he had the displeasure of knowing about that migraine-inducing part of his life was that Vincent forgot to watch his liquor intake at an event and vomited out his entire life story to James in one night. Needless to say, he woke up the next morning with a hangover that could kill god and a very concerned James who knew too much.

Vincent shakes his head, “I am fairly certain I know what's on this, I don’t want you seeing that.”

James doesn’t respond, “I have an incinerator at home. You can just get rid of it there.”

“If it’s not I’ll be destroying something I actually like.”

Vincent did not even know why he had him come over. After he saw the handwriting he just went on autopilot. “Could you drive down about five minutes down, there’s this small coffee place that makes pecan pie flavored coffee, can you go get me some?”

“Sure,” James says, “Do you want me to go so you can do this alone and I can come back later or?”

“No, I just need you out of the house for maybe 15 minutes, it’s not like you probably have already figured out what I think is on this hard drive.”

James shrugs, “You want something to eat too?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Vincent hears James’ keys jungle quietly and the door opens. He can hear his footsteps walk down his porch. As he listens to James’ car start, Vincent puts his head in his hands. His finger knit into his hair and closes, threatening to rip the follicles right from his skull. I really don’t want to see this. He exhales as he hears the car pull out of the driveway and his gate slide closed.

Inhale, he closes his eyes and fumbles the hard drive into the laptop. Then, exhaling, he opens his eyes.

USP Pot In-Use. Transfer 486 GB of data onto this device?

Half a terabyte of data just sitting on a hard drive. A hard drive that was in the button of one of Vincent’s bags for months. Vincent starts to chew on the inside of his cheek, hands trembling near the mouse pad.

Yes.

Not enough storage for transfer. Preview file?

Yes.

A handful of files transfer to his laptop. Some files were named with dates, some with pet names, some with actual event titles but all were photos. Vincent closes his eyes and opens one simply labeled Coffee. The actual photo itself is just him sitting in one of his old dressing rooms back when working with Owen. There is a blurry spot in the upper left-hand corner of the photo. This was definitely Owen’s phone. Owen’s phone always had a blurry spot in the upper left-hand corner no matter how much Owen wiped it off.

The photo looks like it was taken at an awkward angle. Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose and mutters, “So he stalked me long before the incident, I stopped working there months before it happened.” The other handful of photos are similar; pictures were taken without Vincent noticing, usually at work. The last one was in his own house, but it was during a party he remembered that he invited Owen to.

Then a video pops up only labeled with a date.

Vincent reaches up and mutes his computer, and slowly presses play on the video. It starts with Owen muttering something before sticking his phone up and peering through a window. The video is of Vincent sleeping, and it lasts for nearly 30 minutes before the phone is dislodged, and the video finishes.

The next set of photos and videos are dated during his time with Owen.

He gets through three before rushing to the bathroom to puke.

-

When James gets back, Vincent has seen enough. He was right. It was Owen’s hard drive, and somehow he got a hold of it. James hands Vincent the coffee and the bag.

“I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot what you said about food so I just got you a scone since I was listening to the radio talk about the new federal policy on box boys.”

Vincent took a sip of the coffee and raised an eyebrow at James, “Something changed?”

“The emancipation law, it was signed by the president a week ago and the changes went into effect today,” James says as he sips his own coffee, “If you own a box boy for over a year and they meet a handful of prerequisites you can emancipate them and give them legal citizenship.”

“I honestly thought it would get shot down.”

“Well since the senator that was so against it was voted out this election no one else has objected,” James says, and he pulls up his phone, “Well the owner has to be the one to sign them for emancipation. Senator Grant was her name wasn’t it?”

Vincent takes a bite out of the scone. He swallows both the scone and a thought.

“Does it say anything about private transfer?”

“I think you just have to have their papers. Why?”

Vincent looks down at his food, and an idea pops into his head, “What’s Senator Grant doing now since she’s not in office.”

James shrugs, “Let me see if anyone said anything?” He taps on his phone, the little buzzes echo around the room like flies to trash. James pauses, “I’m pretty sure she’s just at home preparing for the next election why?”

“I think I might need you to help me make a phone call.”

-

Weeks later, Vincent paces, listening to James talk on the phone in the other room. He could not physically hear Owen’s voice through the phone without falling apart.

“That’s my ear,” James says sarcastically, “Do you agree with this or not?”

Silence.

Click.

James knocks on the half-open door, “You alright Vincent?”

“Are you done?” Vincent asks, tighter than a spring.

James nods, “After the screaming he agreed, do you want me to go over with the papers so you don’t have to see them?”

“Please, I’m more than likely already going to have to be on a phone call with his Mother and that's stressful enough.”

Vincent opens the door of his study and steps out, “I need a drink.”

“It's noon Vincent.”

Vincent has one hand on the liquor cabinet and chuckles dryly, “Perfect.”

‘Vincent, no.”

Making dead eye contact with James, he pulls a bottle of sweet tea vodka out of the cabinet and pours himself a glass. James sighs and shakes his head, “I thought Dr. Brycan told you not to drink.”

“He said that I need to wait until at least noon since I used to drink from dawn until dusk unless I had work, it’s 12:01.”

“Didn't you tell me that you’re probably going to get a phone call from the ex-Senator today,” James says, stepping back, “I think you want to wait at least until then so you're sober when you two talk.”

Vincent pauses with the glass halfway to his lips. He sets it down just hard enough to hear it but not hard enough to crack the crystal. Vincent grumbles, “Fine,” and walks back for his study to wait by the phone.

-

“You do know this is blackmail, Vincent,” Mrs. Grant grinds through the phone, “And that is illegal.”

“So is paying off someone to hide criminal charges. He either takes the deal or I take this half terabyte hard drive filled with evidence to court and get the press involved, his decision.”

“How much do you have to pay you,” she says after a moment.”

“No amount of cash will buy me over, he either takes the deal or I contact my manager.”

Silence through the phone. Vincent’s nails dig into his jeans. The woman on the other end of the line can’t see the tears pouring down Vincent’s face. One thing acting taught him was how to keep his voice steady for clarity in a microphone. The only difference here is that the microphone is in a phone rather than on a long stick.

“We’ll think about it,” she finally says.

“You have until Sunday.”

“Fine.”

Click.

Vincent holds the phone up to his ear for a second before dropping it onto the table. His head falls into his hands, and he sobs. His mind, blank yet filed with too many feelings, recoils under its own weight. Tears that had been held back for months spill across contract papers and blot through blank ink. The ink spread like blood across bed sheets.

-

“Are you sure you don’t want me to knock his teeth in?” James asks as he holds the contract and transfers forms in one hand and a Sprite in the other, “Because I will and want to.”

Vincent shakes his head, fingers drumming across the velvet seats of the limousine he almost forgot he had. When did I even buy this was the first thought he had when he dug through contacts. “No, just go inside, get him to fill out the forms, and come back. Then we go home and I gorge myself on M&Ms and fudge ice cream.”

James laughs, “Room numbers on the card right?”

“Yes.”

-

James steps out of the car. The condominium looms over the limousine, and James bites through white-knuckled rage as he steps into the lobby.

Guess who’s standing there waiting for him, Owen Grant, and his mother. James steps up to them, “Grant, correct?”

Owen looks surprised and gives James a quick not-so-subtle scan, “Are you who Vince sent, I thought he was coming?”

“Do I really need to explain why that will never happen?”

Mrs. Grant gives James a glare to rival the sun’s wrath on gingers. The demeanor shifts almost instantly to a more business appeal, “Well allow us to get this paperwork sorted out as painlessly as possible.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

How long does it take to sign papers? James thinks as he watches Owen go through the forms. These are pre-filled out records; he just needs to sign in three spots. Pen scratches against the paper, Owen’s friendly demeanor evaporated when he reached the final form.

“Why this of all things?” he grinds out.

Neither of the two people answers him. Owen finally tosses the form and an orange file in James’ direction. “All of Kauri’s paperwork; if Vince needs anything else, he’ll have to contact WRU directly.”

James scoops the papers off the table, flipping through them; he looks to make sure Owen didn’t deliberately miss any signatures. An extra envelope sits in the orange file. James pulls it free and waves it in Owen’s face.

“What’s this?”

Owen, stupidly, answers, “A goodbye letter since I just filled out a no contact agreement, I want to give my final goodbyes if you will.”

James rips open the envelope and takes out the letter but keeps in anything that may be important.

“That’s for Vincent’s eyes only!” Owen snaps.

“And that hard drive was for your eyes only wasn’t it? I got Vincent’s consent to look through these forms.”

Owen and his mother glare daggers at James as he tosses the letter back onto the table, “Goodbye.”

James can still feel Owen’s teeth grinding gaze on his back as the door closes behind him.

-

Jake answers the door, “Hello Vincent.”

“Is Kauri here?” Vincent asks as his fingers shift around the orange folder.

“Depends,” Jake says, leaning against the door frame, “What do you want?”

Vincent sighs, “I called Natalie yesterday and---”

“Just let him in,” Kauri’s voice echoes from inside the safe house, “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jake pierces his lips and steps out of the way. Vincent steps past him and enters the safe house. Natalie had told him to make things as quick as possible, and if Kauri told him to leave, he would. Vincent agreed. Now he simply hoped that he would be able to get this across without being told to leave.

Kauri steps around the corner, a look of tired anger sits behind his eyes.

“Kauri I’m so---”

“Skip the bullshit, Nat said this would be quick.”

Vincent nods and forces the new wave of guilt back into his stomach, “A few days ago, I was able to… convince Owen to transfer ownership of you to me. I want to ask if I can transfer you to anyone else for your own security, so you are entirely out of Owen’s grabbing range.

Kauri stands there with an expression of absolute disbelief. Then, finally, he opens his mouth to speak before stammering, “I said quick but not one sentence, elaborate.”

“Well, to put it in simply I was going through some of my old stuff from during the incident. I found a hard drive with nearly half a terabyte of… evidence that could be used against Owen,” Vincent says as his shoulder tense at memories he wishes to be buried. “A friend of mine brought up the new box boy emancipation law and after that I got an idea. This friend, who I vomited out my entire life story to black out drunk, was willing to help be the liaison between Owen and me. After a telephone call between Mrs. Grant and I, we got the papers signed and so now I have all of your paperwork under my name.”

“Okay?” Kauri says with disbelief still in his tone in tiny blips, “Then why are you talking to me, just leave me alone and I won’t have to worry about Owen.”

Vincent chews at the inside of his cheek, “Here’s the thing, what I did is, in the eyes of the law, black mail. While he could be charged with the same thing, if he took me to court one of the first assets taken for compensation are box boys. So, you could stay under my name but I don’t trust that he won’t try to get you back by either suing or doing something. My question now is, is there someone who you trust enough for me to transfer your ownership form to.”

Kauri pauses. The gears shift in his head for a moment before he looks past Vincent and back at Jake. The widest shit-eating grin nearly splits Kauri’s face in half. He looks over Vincent’s shoulder and laughs, “Hey Jake, want your own Romantic?”

Vincent looks over his shoulder and sees a very exasperated, tired, and just downright flustered Jake.

“I- um- Kauri- I- please don’t wrd it like that, that makes me sound terrible.”

“And.”

“I- mean in order to keep Owen away from you then yes I will but please don’t,” Jake stampers, “I don’t and won’t own you.”

Kauri pushes past Vincent and boops Jake on the nose, “Congrats you get your own boxie.”

“Kauri, please.”

Vincent clears his throat and interrupts, “While I am used to being third wheel um I know you all want me out of your hair so I have the forms with me and after they are signed I will do the heavy lifting with WRU.”

After a second, Kauri chuckles before walking away. Jake just watches as he leaves, a sigh escaping his lips, “He is never going to let me live that down.”

“If you don’t want to-”

“No no,” Jake says, “I will, he's just teasing. What do I have to sign?”

[oldguardhc]

Old Guard hc #101

Summary: Part 2 of the Decennial Awards (Part 1)

“Our next category is the Weirdest Sleeping Spot! As the title suggests, this category is based on the weirdest spot one has been caught sleeping.” Joe turns on the TV behind him and starts the slideshow of them all snoozing in various spots and positions. “We require plenty of rest to remain youthful. This, unfortunately, means we have to catch our Z’s in some unconventional places.”

“When did you take all these pictures?” Booker asks, leaning forward on the couch. Joe glances back and sees a picture of Booker asleep on top of a fridge. The man wasn’t even curled up on top like one would assume. No, he was half-draped over the top, head and arms hanging on the other side, looking as close to dead one can be while still alive. He looked like a poor Halloween decoration. “I don’t even remember that.” 

“That’s because you’re senile,” Joe retorts and immediately wishes he can take it back. Three unimpressed faces stare back at him from the couches and Joe knows that this is going to be counted against him. Dammit. He wants to win the best host at the end of the century. Joe plasters on a winning smile. “I apologize; that comment should have been saved for after the show. All of the pictures were taken some time in the last 10 years; anything before was disqualified. Now, our first nominee, Nicolò, fell asleep in-“

Booker stands up and turns around to look at Andy and Nicky. He gestures wildly at them, some of his drink sloshing onto the floor and all over his hand. Booker slurps up what he can on his hand before saying, “Are we not going to talk about how Joe’s been taking pictures of us sleeping? For more than a decade?” 

Andy lobs a peanut at him. “Sit down!” Booker catches the peanut and pops it into his mouth. For a second, Joe hopes he chokes on it. 

When it’s clear that he will not, Joe says, “No, we are not. Please take a seat, sir.” 

Booker whirls around, spilling more of his drink. “This is an invasion of privacy!”

“You were in a public area.”

“Technically-“

“If you have to start with technically, you’re wrong,” Joe sighs, motioning to the couch more insistently. He feels like he has just finished 8 hours of customer support and was told by his manager to cover for the coworker they’re currently sleeping with. Andy snags the back of Booker’s pants and whatever was left in Booker’s cup is now sitting on the carpet. Wonderful. “As I was saying, Nicolò, over here, fell asleep on a crane that was on top of a 500m building. He had a couple of hours to kill until his target arrived and rather than playing on his phone like any other sane person, he decided to take a nap.” Everyone turns to look at Nicky. 

“I still don’t see the issue here. I even set an alarm for an hour before the scheduled arrival,” Nicky says and Andy squints at him. 

“The construction workers were using the crane. It was literally spinning the entire day,” Booker says and Joe nods. Some carousels spin less than that crane. 

“You cost me 500 euros,” Andy adds with a scowl. “It was supposed to be an easy win. You puked after the teacups.” 

Nicky gapes at her. “That doesn’t count! Booker made me eat 5 bananas and drink 2 cans of sprite!” 

“It was a projectile. You could calculate the angle of it.” You could. It was absolutely disgusting. Joe had made sure to slip the janitor an extra hundred as he tended to his violently sick husband. 

Knowing that this will lead to a full-blown argument, Joe quickly interjects, “Now Sebastien, he fell asleep in the trunk of the wrong car and ended up giving a poor old lady quite the scare. Later, I would like to discuss Sebastien’s concerning taste for younger women.”

“Yeah, she was less than half your age. That’s gross, Book,” Andy teases.

“Preying on the young and vulnerable?” Nicky tuts. “Where're your morals?”

“Fuck you guys,” Booker groans.

“I like older men,” Nicky says. “Thank you, though.”

With a smirk, Joe continues. “Next is Andromache, who fell asleep on top of a moving train and managed to stay on it the entire duration of her nap. In fact, she did not even sway an inch; not even when the train was climbing the side of a mountain.”

“Less stuffy up there,” Andy says, taking a sip of her drink.

“I believe you.”

“Plenty of space.”

“No one’s going to join you, Andy,” Booker groans, leaning back on the couch. “It’s fucking cold up there.” 

Nicky tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. “That’s-,” Joe shares a look of incredulity with his husband and slowly shakes his head. It’s probably best that they leave this one alone for a couple of centuries. 

“For our last nominee, Yusuf managed to find a yak and fall asleep on its back.”

“You conveniently left out the part where it woke up startled and kicked you 20 feet away.”

Joe gives him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, Sebastien. As always, your contribution is entirely unwanted.” Joe pulls the second envelope out. “Now for our winner,” he opens it and snorts as he reads the card. “Sebastien! Congratulations! You won this decade’s weirdest sleeping spot.”

Booker slowly gets off the couch, like he expects Joe to say ‘Psych!’ and call out somebody else’s name. Andy decides he’s moving too slow and slaps him on the ass.

“Here you go,” Joe hands him the prize when he’s a foot away and Booker frowns. 

“A sleeping mask from Delta Airlines?” It’s folded in half and barely thicker than a paper towel.

“To make your sleep more pleasurable.”

“There’s a better one in the bathroom upstairs.”

“Don’t be ungrateful, it’s rude.” Did no one teach their kids manners these days? “What do you have to say?”

Booker shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Margaret. Both cars were extremely similar.” It’s not a bad apology. Joe has definitely heard worse. 

“One was a minivan, the other was a hummer, you dumbass!” Andy heckles. Sadly, she’s not lying. 

“Looks the same when you’re drunk and have your eyes 90% closed.” 

“Alright, thank you, Sebastien,” Joe nudges him back to his seat. “Continuing with the weirdest theme, our next category is Weirdest Death.” 

Andy and Nicky groan, Booker smirks. 

“Just give it to Booker already,” Andy says. “Fucker always dies in the weirdest manners.” 

“He’s won every single time since he joined us,” Nicky adds, waving a dismissive hand. “Give him his prize and let him do his speech.”

“So you guys can count me off later? No way!” Joe’s not a fool. This is their test. “Unlike our previous categories, this nominee will cover both Nicolò and Yusuf. Our dearest Nicolò and Yusuf were having a lovely picnic in the middle of the safari. They were enjoying a nice Pinot Noir with some young cantal cheese when they were rudely trampled by a stampede of elephants. ”

“Picnic,” Joe really wants to wipe that stupid smirk off of Booker’s face. Nicky, his dearest heart, reaches over to smack the bane of Joe’s existence over the back of his head. It’s a satisfying thunk too. “Ow! I only have one brain, Nicky, Jesus!”

“More like one brain cell,” Nicky responds. Joe almost bends down onto one knee right there. 

No. He has a plan. He’s not going to ruin it because he’s too impatient. 

Joe gestures to Andy, “Andromache, was taking a stroll in one of Colorado’s mountains when she accidentally walked into a cult’s trap. After being shot with an elephant tranquilizer, she woke up tied to a tree and was shot with a special marijuana filled bullet as a sacrifice to their Marijuana god.”

“Bullets filled with marijuana,” Booker says, impressed. “If I weren't here, that’d surely be the winner.”

“I know,” Andy grumbles, taking an angry swig of her drink. 

“For our reigning titleholder, Sebastien continued to drink an excessive amount of soda, despite everyone telling him that there were not going to be any bathrooms for another hour. Our stubborn Sebastien, of course, ignored us and after drinking 64oz of Pepsi, he had to pee. So in the pouring rain, Andy pulled over. Sebastien sprinted to the treeline and as he began to relieve himself, Zeus struck our poor nominee. He died in his puddle of pee.”

Nicky shakes his head, looking at Booker with a little bit of awe. “How do these things keep on happening to you?” 

“The comedic gods really like me.” Something out there really likes him, that’s for sure. 

Joe pulls out the correct envelope and is completely unsurprised with what he reads. “Our winner is, of course, Sebastien! Congratulations!” Joe picks up the prize and holds it out; Booker takes it with a grin.

“A voodoo doll of myself?” The doll has a denim jacket and the same haircut Booker has been sporting for the last six years. Booker pokes the doll’s eyes and squishes its plump body. “I’m keeping this.”

“And not the other prizes?”

“This one is custom made; it gets custom treatment.” He has a point. “As for my speech, I would like to thank myself, the greatest and worst person to exist.”

Joe shares another look with his husband. Andy, on the other hand, says, “The prize should’ve been therapy.”

“Okay,” Joe says after an awkward moment of silence. “Thank you for your speech; please return to your seat so we can continue.” 

[wann-der-lusst]

Waterfalls

By: Cassy

Just like every other day, I have to go to work. My life is such a mess. I mean, I haven't even picked a career, and I don't even have a car. Well, today I'm taking the bus. I don't know why but it's very crowded than usual.

"Hey, excuse me, can I take that seat?" I asked politely.

"No can do. I am too tired," the hard-headed man said.

"Well, I don't care. I'm tired too!" I yelled.

"Sorry. Here take my seat," the man said, frightened.

I squeezed my way through the crowd of people and slumped down into the rough leather seat.

Living in a little apartment wasn't really helping me either. Going to sleep at 3 am just because I can't fall asleep was killing me. With only 4 hours of sleep, I fell asleep on the bus. I shockingly felt the bus stop, and suddenly I woke up.

"Why did we stop?" I asked.

"Sorry, ma'am, but the bus has broken down. It's going to take ages to get it moving again," the bus driver said sadly.

So angry I stomped off the bus. I walked and walked and walked and walked. It was like the world was never-ending. The agony and the anger that I am feeling weren't going away.

Knowing I was never going to work today, I kept on walking and walking and walking. Suddenly, I reached a waterfalls.

"Wow, there's so many people. Since I'm not going to work, I might as well do something," I said to myself.

I walked up to the lady who was giving out the pamphlets.

"Hello, um, excuse me, is there an entrance fee?" I asked.

"Is there anyone else with you?" the lady asked.

"Nope, just me," I replied.

"Oh, ok, then that would be 300 pesos," the lady said.

"Ok," I replied.

I rummaged through my purse and found 300 pesos.

"Here," I said as I gave the lady 300 pesos.

"Umm, can I have one of those pamphlets?" I asked kindly.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. Here," the kind lady said.

"Thank you," I said as I took the pamphlet.

"Have fun," the lady said.

I opened the pamphlet, started reading, and walked to the waterfalls.

"Ouch," I said.

I tripped over the branches of one of the trees when I was looking at the pamphlet. Someone held out their hand to me. I looked up, and I saw a lady looking down at me.

"Hey do you need a hand?" she asked.

"Yes, thanks," I replied.

I took her hand, and she pulled me up.

"Hey, what's your name," she asked.

"My name is Cassandra," I said.

"My name is Alyssa," she said.

"Well, nice to meet you," I said.

"Are you here by yourself?" Alyssa asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Me too. Do you want to go together?" Alyssa asked,

"Sure, I don't know how to read this map," I said.

"I'm good with maps. Give it to me." Alyssa said.

I gave Alyssa the map, and she looked at it slowly.

"I thought that you're good with maps, Alyssa," I laughed.

"Ok, first of all, maps take a lot of time to inspect, and also please call me Aly. I never really liked the name Alyssa," she said.

"Well… Aly, hurry up if you keep on reading this slow, We're gonna be here all night," I said.

"Ok, first, let's get food," Aly said.

"OMG, they have food here?" I asked excitedly.

"Yeah, you didn't know?" Aly asked surprisingly.

"No! Let's go," I said excitedly.

Aly led the way, and we ran to the food vendors. We stood in line for the hot dogs and hamburgers.

"So, what do you want?" Aly asked me.

"Hmm… I think I want a hamburger with cheese and tomatoes, chili and cheese fries, and a Sprite," I said.

"That's delicious. You have good taste." Aly said.

"Thanks. What are you getting?" I asked Alyssa.

"I think I'm going to get a hot dog with ketchup, curly fries, and a Coke," Aly replied.

"Excuse ladies can I have your order?" the chef asked.

"What if you say my order and I say yours," Aly said.

"Ok," I replied.

"I want a hamburger without the tomatoes, chili and cheese fries, and a Sprite," Aly said to the chef.

"And you ma'am?" the chef asked politely.

"I want a hotdog with ketchup, curly fries, and a Coke," I said.

"Before you two go, what are your names?" the chef asked.

"It's Cassandra and Alyssa," Aly said and smiled.

"Ok, can you both please wait for your order?" the chef asked.

"Ok," we both said.

We both found a table to sit down on to wait for our food. I pulled my phone out of my purse and put in my passcode.

"Do you want to exchange numbers?" I asked.

"Of course," Aly replied as she smiled.

She brought out her phone and gave it to me. I did the same and gave mine to her.

"Here I put my phone number," Aly said.

"Me too," I replied.

"Ok, try to call me," Aly said.

I tapped the phone button, and Aly's phone was ringing instantly.

"Ok, now call me," I said.

Aly called me from her phone, and mine started to instantly ring.

"Cassandra and Alyssa, your food is ready!" we heard the chef yelled.

"Come on, let's get out food," I said.

Aly and I got up from the table and went to get our food.

"Here is your hamburger without tomatoes, chili and cheese fries, and your Sprite," the chef said to Aly.

"Also, here is your hotdog with ketchup, curly fries, and your Coke," the chef said to me.

"Thank you," we said.

"Now, which one of you is paying?" the chef asked.

Aly and I looked at each other.

"I can pay," Aly said.

"No, I can pay," I insisted.

"Actually... excuse me, what's the price of our order?" Aly asked the chef.

"Weirdly, it's precisely 250 pesos," the chef replied.

"We can split the price," I said.

I gave the chef 125 pesos from my purse while Aly did the same. We went back to the same table. Then, we switched our meals.

"Here is your food, madam," I said jokingly.

"Here is your food, ma'am," Aly said jokingly.

Together we ate our food.

"I'm so full," I said.

"You said it. I think we grabbed too much food," Aly said.

"Well, I'm gonna throw the rest of my food in the trash," I said.

"I'm right behind you," Aly said.

We threw our food in the trash and picked up our purses from the table.

Let's go to the waterfall," I said.

We walked and walked and walked until we reached the beautiful waterfall. By then, the sun was setting.

"Let's take a selfie in front of the waterfall," I said

"Ok, let's use my phone," Aly said.

We took the selfie together.

"Send the picture to me," I said.

"I already did," Aly said.

Seconds later, my phone dinged. I took my phone out of my purse and checked it.

"This selfie looks spectacular," I said.

"Let's go up there so we can watch the sunset," Aly said.

"Ok," I said.

We both climbed up the hill to see the sunset. The sun dipped below the horizon, the last gasp of beauty before the death of the day.

"Look at how beautiful it is," Aly said.

"I never really looked so intently at the sun setting before. I never really cared," I said.

"Thanks for this day. It's been so fun. What I know is that we're going to be best friends forever and ever," Aly said.

"Off course we are," I replied.

After a while, Aly started visiting me in my not so big apartment and she never forget to bring food. When she's in my apartment we do, off course eating and we really do love watching movies together.

Aly and I has a lot of something in common, like we love to a travel a lot, collecting memories and we both have a broken family. Aly was raised by her father and I was raised by my mother, but both of us did not use it as a discouragement to continue in our lives, we took as an inspiration so that both of us succeed. Having a broken family is not good for my mental health when I was younger, it gives me jealousy, curiosity and it makes me longing, but it did not affect on who I am right now. I am blessed on what I have right now especially I met a new friend that can change my everyday mood.

We can be friends with other people, we can bond, we can stay closer to them, but not everyone can stay forever, not everyone can lend their shoulders for you to cry on, not everyone can listen to your problems, yet there is always one person who is willing to give his or her time and will never ever leave you.

I never really knew it, but meeting Aly changed my life forever.

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #41 - Finale)

02/03/88   11:53 PM

Hey.

...Hey.

I’m… really not sure where to begin. To be perfectly honest, part of me feels strange writing this at all. Not to say that filling this notebook has always made total sense to me, but today is different. Today is, well… today. This long-winded bedtime story has finally caught up to me. For the first time since I started, all I have to write about is what happened today.

I’ve never been quite so stuck on the fence between calling these entries ‘letters’ or ‘journals.’ I don’t know where I stand in this game of pretend I’ve been playing with myself for the past couple of months. Pretending I’m writing to you, pretending you’ll ever read all this. I don’t know. I guess I want to believe I don’t need to do this anymore, at least not today. Because with any luck, you saw everything that happened today, and heard everything that was said. What’s the point of telling someone about an event they attended?

But I’ll tell you about it anyway, because I want to record and remember every detail. It was overwhelming, and it somehow went by so fast, and I’m worried that I’ll forget something. My heart’s still kind of pounding. I feel a bit light-headed. I can still smell burning paper, and it’s making me a little sick, but it’s… well, it’s complicated.

Today was, of course, your funeral.

I’m not sure what I expected your funeral to be like. I’d never been to one. I’d certainly never prepared one. I wasn’t even sure a gathering of three could be called a funeral at all. But I did my best to make sure each of us would pay respects to you that were not given at the arcade-wide memorial.

I really had only one major request for Felix and Ralph. I wanted each of us, including myself, to write a letter to you. I could tell that they weren’t thrilled by the idea, but they didn’t fight me on it. I tried to make it as easy and open-ended as possible. I told them to just say whatever they would say to you if they had one more chance to do so, to be genuine about it, no matter what that might look like, and write it in the form of a letter. I didn’t tell them why that last part was so significant, and they didn’t ask. But it just felt right to me.

Once we fully settled on a plan together, it looked like this:

One hour after the arcade closed, we would meet behind Niceland. No articles of blue clothing would be allowed, and I would provide red color edits as needed, including on the flowers that Felix was tasked to bring. I would bring the picture frame with our drawings, and your scarf and goggles, to be placed on a table with the flowers. Each of us would read out our letters, and then fold them into paper boats, light them on fire, and send them down the river while I played a song I wrote for the occasion.

I was still working on the song by the time the evening came.

I was in Felix’s apartment when the arcade closed. I had spent most of the day in my den so that I could hear my own music over the sound of Niceland being pounded to bits, but eventually snuck into the building, picture frame and your belongings in hand, so that Felix would not have to come looking for me. When I heard ‘Quittin’ time’ announced and the wrecking stopped for good, I just tried my best to ignore it and keep plucking away on my guitar.

It was not long before I heard approaching thumps rising up the side of the building and, from the corner of my eye, saw Ralph’s face appear in one of the apartment’s windows. I was startled by the sound of glass breaking, and looked to see him still holding up the finger that he had tried to gently tap the window with. 

“D’oh, darn it,” he grunted, before smiling at me sheepishly. “Hey, Mavis. Sorry.”

I set my guitar aside and walked over, kind of annoyed that my heart rate had not fallen since the startle. “Hey, don’t be sorry,” I said with a bit of a sigh, “I hate that window, too.”

He laughed briefly and awkwardly before scratching the back of his head with his free hand. “So… I’ll get out of your hair in a sec, I just wanted to make sure we’re still… Y’know, that this is still--”

“Yup. Still on in an hour.”

“Okay,” he nodded, pretty clearly nervous. “Okay, I’ll go get ready, then.”

He almost dropped, but I called him back with a short whistle. “Hold on,” I told him, pulling out my brush. He watched me quizzically, but held still long enough for me to reach through the window and touch the color red into the otherwise aqua undershirt peeking up under his collar. “There. Now you’re set.”

“Oh,” he tugged his clothes away from his chest to inspect the change. “Right, right. Okay. At least the rest of me is pretty red already, huh?”

“Well, you’re better off than Felix,” I said, cracking a small smile.

We said a couple strained, awkward goodbyes, and he disappeared back down the side of the building almost the second Felix walked in the front door.

At first, he said “Oh, Mavy,” in pleasant surprise, but when he saw the broken window, he repeated in a less happy tone, “Oh, Mavy.”

“Hey, for once it wasn’t me,” I shrugged. “Take it up with the Bad Guy.”

Felix mended the broken window as quickly as ever, and from there, we more or less carried on like we would have any other evening. Felix brewed some tea, we sat at the table, and he told me about his day, as usual. I pretended to listen just enough to seem like I wasn’t snubbing him while I continued to work on the song. I just kept my notepad in my lap and darted my eyes down to it whenever he broke eye contact. Eventually, he couldn’t carry the conversation on his own anymore.

“You haven’t touched your tea,” he pointed out gently. “Can I get you more sugar?”

“No, thanks,” I mumbled absent-mindedly, eyes down, and reached to take a sip of the tea to placate him. Once the cold, minty drink was in my mouth, however, I found it hard to swallow. It tasted fine, but my throat felt almost too tense to allow it. I tried to subtly spit it back into the cup, but I know he saw.

“Are you… alright?” he asked gingerly, like he knew how stupid the question was, today of all days.

“I’m fine,” I sighed, drumming my pen against the paper, still not looking up. “I’m just working on the song I said I’d write. I’ve got the melody, but the words just aren’t coming together.”

“Oh,” I heard him take a slow, thoughtful sip. “Maybe it doesn’t need words. I’m sure it’s lovely anyway.”

I paused to consider that, accepted it, scratched out all my attempts at lyrics and tossed the notepad and pen over my shoulder. “Yeah,” I sighed sharply, planting my elbows on the table and rubbing my brow. “Screw it.”

Felix was quiet for a while. I just kept my eyes closed, trying to escape the headache I’d been fighting all day.

“You know, Mavy,” he said slowly, “we don’t have to do this today. If you need more time, that’s alright.”

“No, no,” I sighed again, folding my arms and staring down at my tea. “I want to do it today.”

“That’s fine, too,” he said. “Just… you know, there’s no rush.”

“Yeah, there is,” I muttered. “For me, there is. I know that a couple of days is not a long time to plan anything, but… I’ve wanted this for way more than a couple of days. I just… I’ve had a lot going on. I haven’t exactly had the mental space to realize just how… how mad I’ve been this whole time. Mad about…” I lifted my fingers, “everything. And I know I’ve been pissy as hell in general, but there’s just been this shade of it that I… I haven’t been able to see.”

I finally glanced up at Felix. He was just listening, cupping his empty mug on the table. There was no pain in his eyes, only a desire to understand. So I continued.

“In counselling, I learned about the stages of grief. Anger is the first. It had been long enough, and I had done enough work on myself, I thought I had moved past it. But there’s been this… underlying resentment that’s gone unaddressed. I know what it is now. It clicked when Ralph gave me that picture frame. I was hit by the fact that it was the first real gesture of respect for Turbo’s memory that I had seen since he died. Yeah, I’m not angry at Turbo anymore. But Devs, I’m angry for him.

“Angry that the arcade-wide memorial only served to vilify him. Angry that I was assaulted before even getting the chance to start mourning, and I’ve spent all this time dealing with what’s happened to me and ignoring what happened to him. Angry that other sprites in counselling get to talk about their grief and loss without a single judging look. Angry that I feel like I have to apologize any time I bring up Turbo in counselling. Angry that sprites out there are literally changing the meaning of his name to mean the act that killed him.”

I took a second to breathe. Felix waited patiently, and I continued once I found a calmer tone to speak in.

“I remember the night before he died. I remember the shape he was in. If anyone else had seen what I did, they wouldn’t be talking like they are. They would know he didn’t deserve to die. I can’t stand being the only sprite in the arcade who seems to understand that. And now I finally have time and energy to do something about it. Even if it’s just me, you, and Ralph. Ideally, Tapper would be there, too. Ideally, the whole arcade would care enough to be there. But I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got.” 

I shook my head. “I just can’t carry this anger a single step further. It has to be today.”

Felix smiled in a sad sort of way and nodded just a bit. “Okay,” he breathed. “Then we’ll do it today.”

The conversation ended after that, and shortly after, Felix excused himself to go gather the flowers he was tasked to bring, leaving me alone in the apartment for a while. It was enough time for me to practice the song a couple more times and try not to obsess over it. I felt like you deserved something better. Something grand. Something you would be happy to assign your name to while you were here. But I couldn’t manage it. I couldn’t even manage to write lyrics for the short, simple melody I came up with.

I guess missing you just doesn’t make me feel very musical.

After I was as satisfied as I was going to get with the song, I set to work coloring my clothes red, leaving only the already white parts unpainted. I was staring into the bathroom mirror, debating coloring the blue out of my eyes when Felix returned, arms full of flowers. I gave the flowers the same red-and-white treatment I gave myself, and eliminated every shade of blue from Felix’s outfit. He looks a bit weird in red, but I just couldn’t allow anything resembling Devout attire at your funeral. Nevermind blue being your least favorite color.

Once about an hour had passed since the arcade closed, we were all ready to go. There wasn’t a shade of blue on us. Felix held the color-coded flowers, and I held the picture frame and your belongings under an arm. Both of us had our respective letters we wrote to you in our pockets. I had my guitar slung over my back, tuned to perfection. Everything on the proverbial checklist was ticked. 

But still, I stood there at the front door, one hand on the knob, finding it hard to make myself turn it.

“It’s okay, Mavy,” Felix said softly from behind me. “Take your time.”

I sighed through my nose, closing my eyes and trying to fight the quivering in my stomach. The gravity of what I was about to do had been squeezing me tighter and tighter as the evening went on. 

“Hun,” Felix prompted gently, “I know you’re angry. But are you sure you want to do this in anger?”

I considered that, took a deep breath, and stood a bit straighter. “Yes, actually,” I looked back over my shoulder at him, speaking calmly despite my nerves. “I do. Waiting won’t help. I think I can safely say that delaying this is what made me angry in the first place. And... for once, I’d like to use my anger for something good,” I gave half a smile. “I won’t blow anything up this time. Don’t worry.”

Felix gave a quiet huff of a laugh, paused, and shook his head with a warm smile. “I’m not worried.”

I raised a brow.

He put one hand up a bit. “I know, I know how ridiculous that sounds. I know I’m the king of all worrywarts. But I mean it. I’m not worried.”

“Explain.”

Felix shrugged contentedly. “I trust you.”

I just stared at him, unsure if he had ever uttered those words to me before. I didn’t know what to say, so he continued.

“I trust you to do what’s best for you… and for Turbo. You’re the only one in the arcade who could,” he sighed, a bit of glassiness showing in his eyes. “And I’m proud of you. I know he would be, too.”

A bit blindsided in my already emotionally vulnerable state, I swallowed hard. Suddenly, my face felt much too hot. I nodded a bit, letting my eyes wander as the words sank in. I hoped he was right, but I tried not to think too deeply about that lest I turn into an emotional wreck before even making it downstairs.

So I just glanced at him and muttered, “Thanks, cuz.”

“Of course,” he smiled wider. “I know you’ll be alright. I’ve never been so sure of that.”

I allowed my own smile to show. “Yeah. I’ll make it.”

He chuckled. “It’s what you do.”

At that point, I finally found the resolve to open the door and walk down the hall to the elevator. We rode down in silence, and I managed to steady my breathing enough to gain confidence that I could keep it together through our modest little service. Once we reached the ground floor and stepped out into the hallway, however, Felix stopped me before the back doors of Niceland.

“Mavy,” he said, “a word before we go out.”

“What?”

“Well… I hope you don’t mind, but I took a couple... liberties with the service.”

I blinked. “Okay. What’d you do?”

“Just…” he stepped back, pushing open one of the double doors and nodding towards the outside, “...have a look.”

I had no idea what to expect -- Felix’s ideas of surprises are usually extremely underwhelming. But when I obliged him, and took a single step out of the building, what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

There was a crowd.

I saw the Nicelanders first. Behind them, I saw Tapper. And Peter Pepper. And Paperboy, two Joust knights, Mario, and Clyde. And Ralph, towering above them in the back. They were arranged in rows in front of one of the prepared tables, watching me, waiting for me in a reverent hush.

I felt, for just a moment, that I could pass out.

“Mavy… you okay?” Felix whispered.

I looked at him. Then back to the crowd. Then to him. I hadn’t the slightest clue what to say. My thoughts were struggling to keep up with my feelings. I was overwhelmed, equally on the verge of crying, yelling, and running away. But, somehow, all the same… my heart was swelling with gratitude.

“You did this?” I mouthed to Felix.

“I may have spread the word a little bit,” he replied, looking almost smug, in a very nervous way. “I just… I knew you wished he could have a bigger send off, and I knew you thought no one would even come, but… I wanted to prove you wrong. It’s not the whole arcade, but it’s something.”

I stared at him.

“Oh, Mavy,” he frowned, “I’m sorry. Did I do wrong?”

“No,” I whispered, looking back at the crowd. “Absolutely not.”

Finally, we both stepped fully out of Niceland. We crossed to the table in front of the crowd and found that a couple rows of bricks had been placed on it, almost like an altar to put the frame on. I did so, along with your scarf and goggles, and Felix laid out the flowers. After that, he clarified whether I was okay one more time, before stepping in line along the front row of the crowd, leaving me in the spotlight.

I looked at everyone. They looked at me. I silently thanked counselling for getting me accustomed to a certain level of vulnerability in a group setting, and I spoke.

“Wow… I’m almost speechless,” I told them, my voice faltering a bit. “I don’t know what to say, other than…”

At that point, my eyes landed on Gene.

I immediately snapped, “Gene, what the hell are you doing here? Get out.”

He threw his hands up, exclaimed, “THANK YOU,” and broke away from the crowd to return to Niceland. I watched him go, and waited until the door shut behind him to continue.

“Anyway,” I addressed the crowd with a bit more confidence, as Ralph struggled to stifle a laugh in the back, “it means a lot that the rest of you are here. Thank you for…” I sighed, “joining me in remembering Turbo properly. I… obviously have a few things to say, but I’ll hold off for now. Felix and Ralph have prepared remarks, and, uh… after that, if anyone else has something they’d like to say, you’re welcome to do so. I’ll take it from there after that. So…”

I met Felix’s gaze expectantly, and he gasped a little bit before nodding and switching places with me. I set my guitar down on a separate table, and then I stood by the crowd and watched him pull a folded piece of paper out of his chest pocket, clear his throat, and take a moment. The reverent silence from before settled over everyone once more as Felix found his voice.

“Turbo…” he began, “I’m afraid you’ll have to forgive me. This letter isn’t exactly the poetry you’d expect to be read aloud at a… gathering of this nature. Truthfully, writing this at all has been, well… a lot harder than I thought. I’ve written my fair share of letters on my own time. Boy, I even sent you one or two before, when you were still here to receive them. Whether you read them or just turned them into paper airplanes, I never really knew. But this one… I hope, wherever you are, you’re listening. Even if you don’t want to hear from me, there are things I need to say to you. More things than I realized.”

Felix paused to take a steadying breath before attempting the rest. “Turbo, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that it took me this long to truly think about you and how I feel. How I feel about losing you. I’ve been so preoccupied looking after the sprites who depend on me, I just… somehow, forgot to mourn. And once I did, once I started writing, I… Well, I cried. I know I’m a big crier, but even for me… I cried so much. Because golly, I… I didn’t realize just how much I’m going to miss you.

“It feels so strange to say it, because, well, you did drive me up the wall most days. You’d burst into my apartment in the wee hours of the morning, tracking in dirt on my carpet, raiding my fridge without so much as a ‘Hello.’ You’d show up uninvited to parties and be rude to the guests. On more than one occasion, you drove your car into our game and left tire tracks that tore up our lovely grass and flowers. But I miss it all, just the same. I miss feeling guilty for laughing at your... crass jokes. I miss being angry at you, angry enough that all my other problems felt like a breeze, comparatively. I miss seeing you in passing in Game Central and hearing every new, mean... frankly annoyingly clever nickname you chose to greet me with. I miss your laugh, your smile, your face… I miss seeing you at all. It’s strange, but I miss all the complicated emotions you brought into my life. You did drive me crazy. But I loved it. I’m just sorry it took losing you to make me realize that.”

At this point, he was pausing at the end of every sentence to wipe away tears from under his eyes, and as he went on, I could feel my own starting to sting a bit. “I wish you could have understood how loved you were. In the way that matters. I wish that you could have seen that you had nothing to be jealous of. You were one in a million, Turbo. No one will ever replace you. No one will ever forget you.”

Just for a moment, he glanced at me. “And I’ll never forget the happiness you brought to my family.” Then, sniffling, he closed out with, “Goodbye, Turbo. Goodbye, my friend.”

After that, he wandered over to join me next to the crowd and pulled out a handkerchief to blow his nose into. I watched him, eventually deciding to rub his back. Touching him is still a challenge, but… I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I could even say it right. 

I had expected his letter to be almost entirely about your relationship with me and how it made him feel. I expected to be the bridge between the two of you, like I always seemed to be before you died. But, seemingly out of nowhere, he pulled out these deeply personal feelings about you. He himself felt guilt over not mourning you properly, just as I did. It made me think about the conversation we had shared about an hour beforehand, and how he must have been angry, too. In his own Felix sort of way. And how that might have inspired him, in part, to invite all the extra guests.

It just meant a lot to me, knowing you meant something to him.

After a couple moments of clumsily comforting Felix, I saw no movement, so I looked back over the crowd at Ralph. He seemed to be doing his best to disappear all nine feet of himself, but once we locked eyes, he surrendered and trudged to the front of the crowd. He seemed kind of nervous, fumbling as he pulled out his letter and unfolded it.

“Turbo, uh…” he began, pausing to stare out at his audience one last time before shifting his feet and clearing his throat. “Okay. Look. I'll be honest with you. When Mavis asked me to write you a letter, I was kind of confused. The letters are a nice idea, but… me? I was never your friend. We never got along. In fact, the very first time I met you, I very clearly remember you saying--” and at this point, he poorly mimicked your accent, “--’Don't tell me. You're a Bad Guy. I can smell a professional loser from across the arcade, even without the help a’ your severe body odor. Take a shower, ya might like it.’”

I didn’t hide my chuckle. I even heard one or two behind me. Ralph noticed, and seemed unsure if he was being laughed at or with. Either way, he took on a bit more of a solid tone.

“Yeah, you were a jerk. You didn't like me, and I didn't like you. But I'm still… I don’t know. Somehow, part of me is still sad you're gone. And not just because things have been so messed up since you left. I think there was just one thing about you that I might have, possibly, maybe, sort of liked.

“You were a Good Guy, but… you didn’t really act like one. A lot of Good Guys are jerks who pretend to be nice, but you never pretended. You never hid how mean you were. It’s weird to think of that as a good thing. I don't know. I'm not sure I get why that sticks out to me in my memories of you, but it does, so... I guess I will miss you, Turbo. Even though you were basically a second Mavis most of the time.”

That one got a bigger laugh, especially from me. Ralph seemed very pleased with himself. He had to clear his throat to snap himself out of a poorly timed smile. Frowning appropriately, he said, “Goodbye, Turbo. Rest in peace.”

He then walked back to his spot in the rear of the crowd, and a blanket of silence settled softly over us all once again. 

By this point, I was feeling pretty sick. Somehow, I wasn’t crying yet, but I was incredibly anxious. The longer the service went on, the more I began to wonder if I was making a mistake, after all. Hearing the other two talk about you the way they did… It scared me for a lot of reasons. Not the least of which being I was probably going to have to read my letter in a moment, and it was a lot longer and a lot more personal than what they wrote. I knew that would be the case from the beginning, but when the moment finally came, I was not prepared for it.

And as the silence carried on, I only felt sicker. If no one else wanted to speak, then it would have to be my turn. I just stood there, fighting myself on whether I should wait longer or get it over with, until I heard the blessed sound of footsteps.

Tapper stepped out in front of the crowd.

Seeing him standing there alone, rescuing me from my anxiety for just a couple more minutes, I was finally able to process how happy I was to see him. Knowing that he must have closed the bar down to come support you and me, even after I nearly got his game unplugged… I mean, I could hardly believe it. A week ago, I thought he would never want to see me again. But he was there. He left his blue vest at home, out of respect for the dress code. He was responsible for the precious frame propped up on the table behind him. 

And he had something to say to you. 

“Turbo…” he began, sighing, “first, let me piss you off by talking about myself at your funeral. It won't take long. After all, I'm a pretty simple guy. I sell root beer, and that's about it. I barely ever even leave my game. But the truth is, I don't have to. I can go anywhere I want without ever stepping outside. I open my doors… and the arcade is brought to me. Everyone brings in little bits of their lives, whether they know it or not, and I get all the travel I need just from good conversation. But lately, well… I ain't been traveling so far. For the first time ever, my game isn't big enough for me. Not since my road to Turbo Time disappeared.”

He paused thoughtfully, eyes down for a moment. “I may not have ever physically set foot in there. Most of us didn't. But I know we all miss it. Some more than others, sure. And yeah, maybe it wasn't the center of the universe like someone would have liked us to believe. But Turbo Time was more than just a game. Turbo Time was a fact. Constant, stable, since the opening of the very arcade itself. I don't think any of us realized just how comforting it was, the idea that at least one thing in this strange, unpredictable world could remain unchanged -- Turbo Time's place in the spotlight. 

“Now... it's gone. And I'm sure there's not a sprite in the arcade who doesn't miss it. Who doesn't miss that stability. Doesn't miss the things we could still believe when Turbo Time was here. So I speak for everyone, and I mean everyone, when I say: Turbo, you will be missed. And thank you for the years you gave us. Goodbye, old friend.”

Tapper gave me one short, meaningful glance, and the corner of his moustache tipped up just a bit in the hint of a smile. He walked away, but not before flashing just a flicker of a wink at me. It took a couple of minutes to understand what he meant to convey with that, but knowing Tapper, I figured it out. And it just made me even more grateful that he came. 

I think that everyone else’s refusal to speak did not sit right with him. He knew everyone had something to say, so he said it for them. Because it was your freakin’ funeral, and it would be damn disrespectful to snub you like that.

Tapper’s the best.

Once he rejoined the crowd, I went back to waiting for a while. Deep down, I knew no one else would step up. I knew I was just prolonging my own suffering, but I felt rooted to the spot. I just stood there, staring at the point on the ground where I would have to stand. It was only a few steps away. It should have been easy. But everyone was waiting for me. I could feel more than one pair of eyes watching me expectantly. And in a moment, I would have to broadcast some very, very personal feelings to them. For a few moments, I wondered if I should have been mad at Felix for inviting everyone without permission, after all.

But then I thought back again to the conversation we had earlier. How I said, in a perfect world, the whole arcade would come to pay respects to you. In a perfect world, the arcade-wide memorial would have a complete do-over. The handful of sprites I stood next to was the best you were going to get. At that thought, I felt the same anger that inspired me to host the funeral in the first place. 

I pulled the letter I wrote to you out of my pocket and looked it over for just a moment, contemplating. It was everything I would say to you, if I could turn back time. But I asked myself whether, given this opportunity, I wanted to speak to you or to them.

I folded up the letter and put it back in my pocket. I told Felix earlier that anger could be used for good, and I figured it was time to practice what I preached.

I stepped out in front of everyone. I deliberately made them wait just a minute longer while I counted every gaze pointed my way. Every single sprite was watching me, listening, which was no longer off-putting.

It was perfect.

“Let me start by thanking you all for coming, once again, and thank Felix for inviting everyone,” I said clearly and calmly. “This… event is long overdue, and undersized. So, what few guests you may be, know that your appearance here means a lot. A special thank you in particular to the Devout here who skipped the blue clothing, as requested. You see, Turbo was not Devout. He never was. Yet, somehow, a Devout preacher was the only sprite given the authority to speak about him at the memorial after his death. That’s why we’re here today.”

I paused, letting that point sink in, and picking my next words carefully. I was angry, but I had to stay level-headed. I had to use that anger effectively, or the very important message I was about to deliver would not land. Once I felt confident in my emotional balance, I continued.

“The preacher never knew him. No one who spoke that day knew him. Admittedly, he was a tough sprite to know. I could easily count on one hand how many sprites actually did. But no one knew him like I did. By rights, it should have been me who spoke that day. It’s a bit late for that now, but I can tell you what I would have said. 

“I’d have told you what most people knew Turbo as. Arrogant, narcissistic, loud, belligerent, relentlessly competitive. You could get him to do pretty much anything just by suggesting he couldn’t. And no matter how badly he failed, he would always challenge you to do better.”

I heard a quiet chuckle or two from that, and smiled as I went on.

“Yeah, nothing, not even his game’s lofty track record, was ever so famous about Turbo as his ego. But he was also clever. And witty, and resourceful, and inventive. His garage was always cluttered with work-in-progress gizmos and sheets of... wildly intricate blueprints I never learned how to read. Framed on the table behind me is proof that we would draw together sometimes, and I always thought his art style was cooler than I let on. Sometimes we would sing, or even write music together, and it’ll likely surprise you to hear, but his voice and his poetry weren’t half-bad. Yeah. That guy was full of surprises, way more than anyone would have believed. And probably the hardest to believe of them all, was… he was afraid.”

I took another pause, figuring out how to continue without betraying your privacy too much. I needed to make everyone understand, but I still wanted to be respectful to you. Eventually, I continued carefully, a light tremor of emotion in my voice.

“He had the fame, the fortune, the status, the gamers’ full attention… but like anyone else in this arcade, he was… scared. He wanted to be loved. To be remembered. He wanted something real to hold onto. Some meaning that could hold its own against the universal fear of this life, the fear that someday our games will be unplugged and wheeled out that door to nowhere. Now, I know how I’ll remember him. I’ll remember him as the greatest racer this arcade’s ever seen. I’ll remember him as an artist, an inventor, a singer, a comedian. I’ll remember him as a person. Because that’s what he was. No matter how hard that preacher tried to twist his life into nothing but a cautionary tale, he was just as much a person as she is. As any of us are. Ignoring that goes far beyond disrespect. Ignoring that is outright dangerous. Because Turbo, no matter what connotations his name carries now, was not a monster. He was only ever one of us. We lost one of our own, and until we stop hiding and face the truth of his death, we will lose more the same way. What can kill one of us can kill more of us.”

I could see a few frowns in the audience. I knew my words were getting a bit scary, but that was good. It said to me that they were starting to get it. So I didn’t let up. I let my tone sharpen.

“Disobeying the program is not what killed him. Seeing no meaning outside of the program killed him. And yet, there was the preacher saying we ought to do the exact same thing. Place all our meaning on our code. She said that Turbo had a virus, that he was corrupted, that following the program will protect us from his fate. The program keeps your game alive, this much we can’t change. But it can’t protect us from everything. You can do everything right and still end up quarterless. New games are plugged in, gamers move on, for reasons we will probably never understand. That’s just life here. Life here is hard, and it’s confusing, and for the most part, our roles are the only things we can actually make sense of. But there has to be more. You have to find more. Your role is what you do, but it can’t be who you are. Because if that’s taken away, who are you? Why are you?”

I stopped. The silence that was once reverent had turned tense. I let my breathing slow as I took a good, long look at the crowd. I felt very little sympathy for the uncomfortable faces at first. Felix was just holding his hat in front of his belly, eyes wide, lips parted. Tapper’s gaze was steady on me, but his brow was furrowed in an almost pained sort of way. Ralph wasn’t looking at me at all. His eyes were low, staring at nothing in particular, squeezing his fingers anxiously.

I took in a deep breath, held it, and let a long sigh wash the anger and adrenaline out of me. That was enough. I could let them off the hook.

“Anyway,” I said lowly, sadly, “that’s my sermon for the day. Moving on... Well, speaking of roles... my role doesn't offer a whole lot in the first place. Some say Easter Eggs are good luck, but being one sure isn’t. You can go weeks without a second of gameplay. It’s hard to feel like you really belong anywhere, sometimes. You live in your game, sure, but… it’s hard to call it ‘home’ when you’re barely needed. It’s easy to feel like the least important sprite in the whole arcade. So, imagine my surprise when, four years ago, I found myself goofing off with the king of the arcade,” I smiled a bit at the memory. “It was so weird to me, hanging out with a guy so obsessed with status when I had basically none of my own. I thought it would have bothered him. But… that was one of the instances where his narcissism sort of… canceled itself out and made him a better person, I think. He was too concerned with himself to care. I asked him what he thought about me being an Easter Egg once, and he just shrugged and said, ‘The hell should I care?’ Like I’d asked him what I should have for dinner, or something. Not saying there weren’t things about me he didn’t like, and hey, he wasn’t perfect either. But there was trust there, I guess. Weird, snarky trust.

“So, I ended up spending a whole lot of time with him, and that was great, because being an Easter Egg frankly gives me more free time than I always know what to do with. Eventually, goofing off with him was one of the few things that made sense in my life. Even if it didn’t make sense to anyone else. I mean, not that everyone didn’t see why we got along so well. We were often told how similar we were, usually not in a good way. But why we did the things we did, I don't think many understood. And I wouldn't expect them to, because our fun usually came at everyone else's expense. Like the time we poured puddles of oil around game central just to watch everyone slip. Or when we'd play music in Ghosts n' Goblins so loud it literally woke the dead. Everyone here probably has their own story to tell…”

I made eye contact and managed a smile for each sprite I mentioned, “Like Mary, whose cake we ruined by switching her sugar and salt. Deanna, we were the reason the whole arcade started calling you ‘Dana’. Tapper could keep us up all night with his own tales of our misdeeds, and so could Gene for that matter, if he were allowed to speak. And Don, yes, any time one of your model boats went missing, it was nicked by us. We used to take them into Frogger and set them on fire, and watch them drift away down the river.”

Don in particular looked shocked, confused, and a bit scandalized, but resigned quickly with a small sigh.

“It all sounds… petty,” I continued, nodding. “Meaningless, shallow, self-indulgent wastes of time by two arrogant sprites who didn't give a damn about anything or anyone. And that's how I preferred to think of it too, most of the time. But I tell you… once, while we were watching one of Don's boats burn away as it floated along, Turbo asked me, ‘Where do you think it goes… after it's deleted for good? After the fire eats it all away?’ He wasn't looking at me, but I could tell… he wasn't smiling. I told him the only thing that made sense to me… ‘Anywhere but here.’ And… honestly, I think the idea of that was some kind of comfort. The idea that there was anything outside of what we knew. Many would say he only ever knew a perfect, privileged life. That he had everything he could have wanted. But, still… all we ever did was look for a way out.”

My eyes fell for a moment. I stared at the ground as I clenched my jaw, struggling to string together the heartache I felt into words. My emotions were finally starting to bubble over, and as much as I tried to fight it, my vision started to blur with tears. Almost at a loss, I just forced myself to start talking, my voice weak and quivering as I looked out at the crowd again.

“...Sprites said a lot of things about us. About… us. Some would call him my partner in crime, which wasn't the whole truth. Some called him my best friend, which... wasn’t the whole truth, either. A whole lot more called him my boyfriend, which, despite evidence to the contrary, he was not. Even I was never sure what to call him, or what he really was to me. But I think I understand, now that he's gone. Because I didn't just lose a friend... or a partner. I lost a place at his side… the first place I ever felt like I belonged. Turbo… he was my home. I... don’t know where the fire leads. I don’t know if it leads anywhere. I don’t know if he’s listening. I don’t know if he exists at all anymore. Out of all those, I don’t even know what I want to believe. Right now, all I know is… no matter how many games I see, no matter how many sprites I meet, no matter how many years I live… I’ll always be homesick. Always.”

I closed my eyes, unable to keep a few tears from falling. Trembling from the awful heat deep in my chest, I knew I was done. I couldn’t say another word on the matter. So, after a long, hushed moment, I turned my eyes to Felix and tipped my head in request for him to take my place. He obliged without question, wiping away the wetness on his own red cheeks. I wandered over to sling my guitar over my shoulder once again as he informed the crowd that it was time to take their paper boats over to the river.

Almost everyone started making their way over to the water, but a few stayed behind to exchange passing words with me or Felix, even though I was mostly staying quiet in an attempt to keep the tears reined in.

Mary approached me first, making an awkward, but genuine offer to bake me a cake when I was finished with my counselling. Even suggested that a small party be arranged. I wasn’t opposed to the idea, but I just thanked her and told her I would think about it. I wasn’t in any shape to be making decisions, and she seemed to get that.

Clyde didn’t get too close. He just put himself in my line of vision and offered a supportive, almost proud smile. I just smiled back and nodded, and that was enough for him. He floated away. I’m glad he was there -- I’m sure my grand display of vulnerability earned me some counselling points.

Peter Pepper, Mario, Paperboy, and the Joust knights came one after the other, all saying more or less the same thing. They had some fond memories of you and me, they wanted to show their support, and they were sorry for my loss. I didn’t know how to respond to most of it beyond muttered thanks. 

Then Tapper approached me. There was a whole lot of pride in his eyes, too, as he smiled at me. He reached out to do our patented air-handshake, but I fully clasped his hand and shook it gratefully. He seemed shocked for a second, but laughed a little in pleasant surprise. At that point, I began falling over myself a bit in some attempt to come up with an apology even a fraction as big as he deserved, but was quickly stopped short. He told me that me getting help was the best apology I could give him, and that when I’m done, I should come find him to continue our drawing business, since his walls are still pretty bare.

Again, Tapper is the best. 

Once all the conversations ended, Felix and I proceeded to fold our letters into boats, and I helped Ralph with his, since his fingers are so huge and clumsy. He thanked me, but he also seemed sadder and quieter than I expected him to be. Maybe someday I’ll talk to him about it, but I didn’t today. I just grabbed the picture frame, your scarf and goggles, and we all walked over to the river in silence.

I stepped up to the edge of the water, brush in hand. One by one, every guest approached me and gave me their boat, which I touched a shade of fire to with my paint, and gently placed them into the stream. As the process went along, I wondered what all of the letters might have said. I expected most of them to be blank, but a good portion of them had handwriting poking out under the folds. The thought of it put a terribly painful gratitude in my chest.

I sent Ralph’s down the water, and then Felix’s. And last of all came mine.

I held it and stared at it for a minute. It contained everything I wish I could say to you. Everything you should have known before leaving this world. Somehow, it seemed hard to let it go, to do any harm to it. But with all the faith I could possibly muster, I blessed it with a prayer, and sent it floating away in flames, like all the others.

I sat, set my guitar in my lap, and with the heaviest heart I carried in my life, I played your song.

Felix sat beside me, and Ralph followed a moment after, but everyone else remained standing for the soft, mournful serenade. I may not have found the right words to sing, but I hummed along gently anyway, quiet tears falling from my cheeks. I watched the little lights sail away, watched the paper blacken and curl, and the little embers escape into the air. I don’t need to tell you what it reminded me of. But, as painful as it was to relive even a moment of your passing, I knew that this was, maybe, the only way my prayer would be answered.

‘Wherever the fire took him, let it take these, too.’

My song ended before long, and I could barely see through the tears in my eyes, but we all watched until the very last flame burnt out, and only flecks of charred paper remained, carried away by the current. I sat there for a while, sniffing, wiping my eyes, keeping as tight a grip on my composure as possible. Felix pat my back very lightly until I was ready to stand up.

Once I did… it was over.

Everyone said their goodbyes, gave their thanks, gave their sympathies, but ultimately, had to go. Tapper and Peter Pepper had to reopen their games, after all. As the visitors made their way across the bridge and to the cord train to leave, Felix checked in on me. He asked if I wanted to come have dinner with what was left of the group, and just spend the rest of the night in each other’s company.

I declined. I told him that I needed some time alone, and that I was very tired. I haven’t slept much, the past couple days, and I told him so.

He understood, of course, and like a good friend, told me that he’ll be there whenever I need him. Ralph, finally speaking up, seconded the notion, saying that his ‘door’ was always open.

Felix almost went for a hug, but stopped himself, still unsure of my boundaries. On another night, I might have obliged him. Instead, I just clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Eyes glassy, with a loving smile, he did the same to me.

Then we went our separate ways. Felix, to Niceland. Ralph, to the dump. Me, to my den.

Where I fell to pieces and cried my heart out.

All the tears I had been holding back all night just… erupted out of me. I know I could have cried sooner. I know I would have been met with support. Felix and Ralph have been there for me in meaningful ways I won’t soon forget. But, today, I just… I need you. It’s physically painful how badly I need you. No one else will give me what I need tonight, and I can’t expect them to.

So, I guess that’s why I’m here, writing to you again. I can’t visit you any other way, now. I can’t believe how important this notebook has become. I started this ‘story’ in such a terrible, anxious, spiteful place. I was so angry at you for leaving me, and I wanted to tell you just how badly you’ve hurt me. But I’m not angry at you anymore. I almost wish that I was. Because now that it comes down to it, this notebook just feels like the only line to you I have left. There will be no more buff-fueled journeys into my memories, no more hallucinations taking the shape of you. And that’s all well and good, because buffs never filled the space you left behind like I hoped they would. Booze and buffs never kept me warm. Never listened. Never held me. 

I don’t want them anymore.

All I want is you.

Once upon a time, this would be too sappy to say, but… Devs, I just want to fall into your arms. I want to vent out everything I kept inside today. Everything I’ve kept inside since starting counselling. Everything I’ve been fighting to keep contained so I can stay strong.

I am strong. Staying strong is going to be worth it. But sometimes, I need to be weak. I’m sure ‘weak’ isn’t what the sprites at counselling would want me to use, but… tonight, I want to be weak. I don’t want to need to be strong. For a while, I want you to be strong for me, and just… let me feel the hurt without endangering myself or anyone else, for once.

Let me play pretend for a little while longer, and tell you everything that’s on my mind.

Maybe some of it will make sense once it’s on paper.

You know… I’m just remembering a moment in counselling, when a sprite talked about how his worst fear came true, but knowing he had lived through it was freeing. I think I mentioned it to Felix last week, but as time goes on, I just… I’m realizing how true it is.

So many horrible things have happened. So much has changed. Sometimes, I still have trouble recognizing my life, and the anxiety surrounding that is suffocating. But every time I come out the other side and calm down, I find that reality is as steady as ever. Slowly, I’m getting used to the new normal. Even the painful parts. I feel… safe. Which, given everything I’ve written here, is kind of amazing.

And, with that safety, I’m given a bit of room to actually look at the good changes that are underway.

One of the biggest sources of pain in my life, and indeed, one of the biggest fuels for my addictive habits, has been the idea that I’m trapped. Trapped in my role by the Devs. Trapped in the grief of losing you. Trapped in my addictions themselves, even. All I’ve ever wanted was a way to escape. Yet, somehow, being locked up in cabinet arrest, being forced to attend stupid, boring counselling… I don’t feel so confined anymore. The arcade feels like it’s getting bigger.

I’m still too big for the life I was made for. That much hasn’t changed. But I’m beginning to think that I don’t need to cut off pieces of myself to fit into it. I think I can just… make my life bigger. I’m not entirely sure how, but I have to believe it’s possible. I mean, I did just preach the idea at your funeral. I have to find more. I have to make more. You managed to show me that. Somehow, through all the loss, suffering, and mistakes, you’ve left me with the knowledge of how important it is to look for more than you’re given.

It’s hard to feel grateful for that.

Truthfully, letting anything good come of this whole nightmare has been incredibly difficult. It still is. There’s some horrible guilt to it. Why do I get to be the one to survive? Why am I the one with a chance to turn my life around? Why couldn’t I have learned all this without having to lose you first?

But, you know… falling apart didn’t bring you back. It was no honor to your memory. It just caused needless pain, almost to the point of total disaster.

I learn from all this because I have to. I joined counselling because I had to make a change. I have to believe you’d be happy for me. Especially because… I can feel big changes happening, deep down.

I feel like I’m on my way to finding what ‘good’ feels like again.

I once told Felix that the search for ‘good’ had never felt so daunting before. I had so many fears holding me back. I was afraid to feel much of anything at all. Afraid to put down roots of any kind. Afraid to have anything real out of belief that I would break it. Afraid to be loved because I didn’t know how to accept it.

Accepting love is still hard, but I’m starting to see that it’s not a decision you can make for anyone else.

Even things about yourself you’ve deemed completely unforgivable will, somehow, still be forgiven. It’s a tough thing to wrap your head around, but hating yourself will not make others hate you, too. I mean… I still can’t manage to hate you, even after all the pain you put me through. Devs know I’ve caused a lot of pain to sprites who care about me, even before all this happened.

But, somehow… I’m not alone. I was never doomed to be alone. It’s taken me five years to realize that.

Along with it, I’ve realized that your mind can really become a world you’ve created around yourself. It feels like absolute truth and reality. But when you manage to look outside of that world, you realize how small your mind really is. The real world is a whole lot bigger than how you perceive it. Everyone has their own perception, too, probably very different from yours.

Everyone’s got their own colors. I have to remember that I can choose mine.

I choose to heal. I’m already on my way.

Even the funeral, scary as it was, felt like a big step.

I was afraid of how I would feel after. I was scared of the finality of it. I once believed all this to be a prank or a dream, and while I wanted to believe I'd abandoned those delusions… I think, even today, some small part of me still wanted to believe that you would spring out of hiding and relieve me of this cruel joke. Or that I could still wake up next to you and forget this whole nightmare by the end of breakfast. I was afraid that the funeral would feel like giving up hope, and in the process, I'd lose you even more than I already have.

It didn't feel like that, exactly. At least, not yet. For now, I feel… relieved. But exhausted. Like a huge weight has been lifted off my back, and after carrying it for so long, all I want to do is collapse into bed and rest. I am in bed as I write this, and I'm admittedly having trouble keeping my eyes open.

But I can’t seem to stop writing.

I know I should. I know I’m just pretending. I know I should get some sleep, because there is still so much more work ahead of me. Work that’s far more real and important than writing letters to a ghost. I’ve had an ache in my wrist for about a week, I keep having to shake this pen to get any ink out of it, and there are only a couple pages left in this notebook.

I’m just… afraid to stop. I’m afraid that it will mean this bedtime story is over. I’m afraid it will mean that it’s time to move on, and I’m not ready.

I’m not ready.

I’m glad I was able to give you some manner of send-off. I’m glad I was able to defend your memory. I feel relief from dealing with the anger I had been carrying on your behalf, and from the knowledge that I don’t have to mourn you alone anymore. I do not regret the funeral, not in the slightest. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t terrify me. You see, as the service went on, I noticed a pattern that just kept stabbing pins into my heart. Felix, Ralph, and Tapper’s letters all had a certain word in common, one that I neither wrote nor spoke.

‘Goodbye.’

As I wrote your letter, as I attempted to write lyrics for your song, as I improvised that speech about you, that word never crossed my mind. I did not arrange a funeral for the purpose of letting you go. I’m starting to see that I arranged it for the purpose of holding you tighter.

Through the whole service, I just couldn’t stop thinking about that moment in Felix’s apartment, when I was helping him clean up the ashes after my… explosive incident. When I was scrubbing the black off of his wall, and it struck me how time was moving forward without you. That feeling managed to be so healing and so devastating all at once. I accepted that I could never go back to our days together, but I refused to accept that I had to leave you behind entirely.

I can’t say goodbye. I knew you for four years, and I barely feel like I said hello. It feels like our story didn’t even end, it just trailed off into nothing. We began a new chapter the last night we were together, and then we just… stopped.

I just want to go back to that night. That moment when I realized how I really felt about you, and the few precious hours I was able to spend with you after. If I could do it all over again, I would have stayed up all night telling you everything I was too cowardly to say at the time. And the morning would never come to steal you away from me.

That must be part of why it’s so hard to move on. You were stolen. We promised to stay together forever. We had a future. For me, that’s everything. I came into this world already lost, with barely a role, barely any context. I could only ever see the day to day. The future was just this dark fog I ran into blindly. But then you came along. And you told me that no matter my future, you would be in it. You didn’t blow the fog away. You weren’t my destination. But you were a light. You were my star. 

Then the sun came up, and took you away. 

It’s so hard to accept that I can’t win you back. I can’t accept that my promise to you is out of my hands. I have to find a way to move on, and I will. But I can’t let you go. I won’t.

Listen, T… I said I was afraid the funeral would feel like giving up hope. It didn’t. I’m scared, but I’m more hopeful now than I’ve been since you left. I may have lost your light, but I have a clear direction to move in. I’m going to finish counselling and stay sober. I’m going to be free to roam the arcade again. I’m going to repair the relationships I nearly broke. I’m going to regain full color in my brush and take to the skies again very soon. It’s going to be hard. I know that. But I also know that I’ll be okay. I hope Felix is right, and you’re proud of me. I’m getting there myself.

But I swear… I can, and will, do it all without letting you go.

Forever. That’s what we promised. You being out of reach makes it harder, but I’ll find a way. 

And… this is my most wishful thinking of all, but… I hope you’re keeping your promise, too.

Maybe it’s just the lack of sleep, but… I swear I can feel your eyes on me. I swear you’re curled up behind me, right now. My bed is never this warm when I’m alone. I know the illusion will be broken if I roll over, so for now… 

If you really are reading over my shoulder… if the act of writing this feels like holding your hand for a reason… if I’m not just a lonely, heartbroken fool with an overactive imagination… 

Keep your promise. Don’t let me go.

Rest here with me.

If there’s anything at all you can do for me, have it be this. Just stay by my side when I lie down at night. I’m so tired, Turbo. I am. I’ve dodged death more than once since you left. I’ve fought so hard to keep my head above water. I haven’t had a minute to just lay down my burdens and feel safe. But feeling you here, even in the small way I do now… I feel like I can breathe. I feel like our last night together never ended.

And it never will, because in Fix-it Felix Jr., the sun never rises. I’ve had many complicated emotions regarding the stars that glitter in the endless sky of my game, but tonight, I’m giving them a meaning better than any they’ve had before.

As long as I can see the stars, I’ll know you haven’t left me.

There’s never going to be a goodbye between us, Turbo. I promise you that. I’ll just say ‘goodnight.’ And I’ll say it again tomorrow. 

And a thousand times more.

Forever isn’t over yet.

[jaybug-jabbers]

Review: Pokemon Gold and Silver 97: Reforged

The Review

What a fantastic game. I went looking for a hack that fully realized the sort of pokemon game we glimpsed in the Spaceworld ‘97 demo, and I was not disappointed. 

This alternative version of Gold and Silver takes that Spaceworld demo and builds on it with loving care and attention to detail. All the beta pokemon sprites were freshly made from scratch or edited to update them for the final, polished Gameboy Color look. The pokemon movesets and stats were crafted so that they were balanced and didn’t contain placeholders, and the pokemon were populated throughout the world in a logical fashion. Dex entries were written and the pokes were integrated smoothly into the world. There are even different sprites and different encounter rates for Gold and Silver-- although you can ‘catch them all’ in either version, an excellent choice.

Meanwhile, the world map was colored, tweaked and polished, allowing us to explore that beta world that was stunningly different from the final Gold and Silver. It’s a place that in many ways seems even more vibrant and varied than final Gold and Silver, and is truly exciting to explore.

Along with this fully realized map, this hack’s creators also gave us a fresh new plot for Gold and Silver. This one was inspired by the differences glimpsed in the demo, including Oak’s increased involvement in the story, Silver’s different personality and role, and the inclusion of an Imposter Oak. The plot stays true to the style of pokemon games and doesn’t seem out of place. 

All of the exciting little beta details were included too-- including the original Type alignments, the original Gym Leader designs, beta pokemon moves, new hold items, access to the Skateboard, being able to name your Mom, and even the minigame on the game start screen. The attention to detail and the polish on this hack is truly impressive.

Essentially, I feel like this hack can be considered the definitive edition of the beta Gold/Silver that we never knew. It gives us a chance to experience this alternative world, and breathes life into these wonderful pokemon that never were. Giving us a chance to know and love these beta creations is truly a gift for pokemon fans.

Perhaps the only downside is the sadness that this is not the official version of Gold and Silver. I experienced Pokemon a little bit differently then my peers. As a child, I adored Red and Blue, but once I’d finished with those games, I moved on from pokemon. I have no nostalgic memories of Gold and Silver to hold onto. I only returned to pokemon years later as a teenager. At that point I played several generations, one after another, at the same time, as a sort of “pokemon binge.” While most would call it blasphemy, I was never too terribly fond of Gold and Silver. I think it was largely because I didn’t happen to like a lot of the pokemon designs in those games. In many ways, this ROM hack presents a Gold and Silver that I adore and can love even more than the originals. 

That’s not to say the official Gold/Silver games are all terrible, of course. There are still definitely some beta pokemon that I feel were axed or altered for good reason. Not all of them are better then the final cuts. And there are other elements that are an improvement, too; for example, I actually really like Silver’s storyline in the official games and the fact we dealt with a character who actually stole pokemon and treated them poorly. 

That said, there is an awful lot to love in this ROM hack, and I’m grateful that we have it. Pangshi, Bellrun, Warwolf, Madame, Volbear and others may not be officially recognized by the Pokemon franchise . . . but they will always be very real in my heart.

The Team

Cinnamon (Flame Wheel/Crunch/Scary Face/Earthquake - Charcoal)

Selecting the starter was difficult, because both Honooguma’s line and Kurusu’s line appealed to me. Ultimately I think I went with my old Fire bias. Cinnamon was everything you’d expect a Fire starter to be-- powerful, intimidating, and very reliable. My only real complaint would be that I happened to strongly dislike the sprite the team had created for Dynabear. This isn’t really anyone’s fault, because the team did an excellent job with spriting-- for example, their sprite for the mid-evolution, Volbear, was incredibly good and I adored it to bits. I think it was just a matter of personal taste; I just didn’t like the final evolution’s face. (I’ve actually replaced the sprite in this picture with the original sprite, because I don’t want it to dampen my love for this species) Other than that, seriously, they did this evolution family justice. It was a joy to have on my team.

Doomsday (Curse/Confuse Ray/Body Slam/Shadow Ball - Power Wings)

The second member of my team was found in Brass Tower, to my great excitement: Kurstraw. This was possibly my favorite evolution line to come out of the beta discoveries. This pokemon’s stats were not exactly breaking any records; he went down pretty easily if I wasn’t careful. However, that never really mattered. Doomsday still did his job anyway-- pulling his weight just fine, relying on Confuse Ray and Curse a fair bit to take care of foes. He often was an excellent team player, messing with especially troubling pokemon before passing them over to an ally to finish off. His Normal Immunity also was a strong advantage at times, which I made sure to make use of. Basically, he was a fantastic companion, who helped me all the way through to the Elites and Champion fights.

Rumtum (Slash/Thunder Wave/Thunderbolt/Crunch - Leftovers)

Along with a Rinrin, this round good boy was added to the team next. I was slightly wary of Kotora because it seemed to be one of the most popular beta pokemon among fans. But, the pokemon does seem to be worthy of praise, as it turns out. It is an excellent, cute, cheery little creature and seems to do Pikachu’s job just as nicely as Pikachu, both in fighting and in charisma. Where Pikachu is focused more on speed, though, Kotora and its evolution focus a little more on bulk. The tanky tiger was able to take hits long enough to outlast the competition, even when working with relatively low basepower moves. When he *finally* learned Thunderbolt, though, man, look out -- he was quite a force to reckon with.

It’s funny, actually. When I first saw this tubby tiger, I assumed it was a fire type. Electric was somewhat surprising, but I quickly grew to like it as that typing. Most electric type pokemon are rodent-focused, as Pikachu clones, or Magnemite’s kin. Having a big, bulky tiger is unexpected for the archtype of electric pokemon, but it’s a very refreshing change.

Poprocks (Fire Blast/Surf/Body Slam/Flame Wheel - Mystic Water)

Next on the team was this awesome fellow. Well . . . sort of. Technically, next on the team was TRICKY the Bomsheal, which I traded a Rinrin for with an NPC. Later on, I felt like being able to name the pokemon myself, so I bred Tricky with Cinnamon and trained Poprocks up from scratch. This seal was the cause of some angst for me. I loved Manboo’s evolutionary line a lot, but I also loved the fire seal. They both vyed for the position of the water type on my team. For a while, I used Manboo (and Anchorage) . . . intent on keeping it. But I missed the seal so much, eventually I went back for it to retrieve it from the PC. Yes, it only added to my team’s Rock/Ground weakness, but I didn’t care. I loved this guy too much.

I’m not sure what it is. The freaking amazing typing of Fire/Water? That was definitely a big part of it. But there’s also just something so appealing in its design, simple as it may be. He’s just a cool seal with a fireball. And boy . . . I sure learned how INTENSE its stats were. This seal was RIPPING through the competition. Using it was basically pushing the win button. Honestly it might need to be nerfed a little, it was nuts. But yeah, Bomsheal is a badass and doesn’t need any evolutions to be cool. Best surfer ever!

Darkwing (Slash/Fly/Swords Dance/Faint Attack - Stick)

Right around when I was handed the TM for Fly, I ran into an area that had two types of birds available, depending on the time of day: Hoothoot at night, Farfetch’d at day. As cool as beta Noctowl looks, I eventually decided I needed to have a Madame. I just had to. Like many others, I always, always felt Farfetch’d deserved an evolution and was kind of screwed over. Learning it used to have one was a revelation.

Madame on this team was kind of funny, though. Next to all of these exotic beta pokemon, Madame seemed so . . . normal. She had moves and performed pretty much the way you’d expect a Normal/Flying type to act. It was much like using a Pidgeotto or Fearow. She couldn’t take many hits but usually could take out one pokemon. Her typing had her as an ideal Generalist pokemon-- something that could be used in various situations, not to any amazing effect but usually to a passable one.

That may sound a little underwhelming to you, but honestly, it’s what you’d expect of this cool-looking swan; it’s a Normal/Flying type. It fills that archtype as a familiar, dependable generalist. And I am someone who can really appreciate a generalist pokemon. I think the pokemon world’s richer for having Madame in it, even if only in our dreams.

Alpha (Strength/Blizzard/Screech/Ice Punch - Nevermeltice)

The final member of our illustrious team. You have to wait until fairly late into the game, when you reach the snowy towns, to get a hold of one of these fellows.But the wait is well worth it. What a beautiful pokemon design these two are-- mysterious little creatures hiding inside their wolf pelts, a perfect mix of cute and creepy. Wolfman/Warwolf actually struggled for quite some time on my team, unfortunately, just because of its movepool. I was left with the very weak Icy Wind for a long time. To compensate, I taught Strength, which worked somewhat, but I could still tell Warwolf wasn’t reaching its full potential. I taught it Blizzard, but the poor pokemon had a rough time ever landing its hits. What I SHOULD have done from the start is buy and teach it Ice Punch for a reliable STAB move with decent base power. I FINALLY decided to do that around the time I reached the Elite 4. I kind of had to-- its learnset wasn’t providing it with reliable, decent Ice moves, for some reason. Once Warwolf was properly equipped, he did great work. Admittedly, a pure Ice type pokemon isn’t the best, defensively. They have four weaknesses to some very common move types-- Rock, Fighting, Fire. (Steel moves weren’t really implemented in this game). That said, when used wisely, a pure Ice type can still be a valuable team member.

There was one hitch, though. Warwolf was mainly a physical fighter. This makes sense if you look at him. Of course he’d be a physical fighter. Thing is, in gen 2, Ice moves were all special. So I suppose technically Warwolf still isn’t hitting at his full potential-- not until the special/physical split in gen 4 so he can take true advantage of physical-type Ice moves. Still, despite that fact, he did a great job anyway. He landed the final blow that defeated Lance and won the game, after all.

I think my only real regret is how relatively little time I spent with him when compared to the others. This is, of course, just the nature of the game; you find some pokemon later on when you’re nearing the end of the game. If there’s any sort of post-game, perhaps I can spend more time with him.

And the Ones Who Didn’t Make the Cut . . .(This Time)

There were so many beta pokemon that it was impossible to have them all on the team, of course. I was especially sad about leaving my Bellrun, Tibbs, behind. I adore Rinrin and Bellrun’s line, as yet another set of pokemon that should have been included in the final cut of the official games. Alas, ultimately I removed Tibbs from my team, though. The reason was simple enough. With the beta Type alignments, Dark type was heavily disadvantaged. It was weak to Normal-type and Dark-type moves (as well as Bug), which was extremely significant. Pokemon’s movepools were positively saturated with Normal and Dark type moves, and it was impossible to avoid. With her already weak stats, and her lack of any decent basepower moves for so long, there was just too much stacked against her. It’s my hope that Rinrin/Bellrun get a bit of a buff in future updates, because they really seem to struggle. 

In any case, there were also plenty of others not on my team: Aquarius, Noctowl, Belmitt, Jumpluff, Turban, Plux, Grotess, Girafarig, Leafeon . . . and so many more. Honestly, that’s fantastic. It gives such replayability to the game. I have no doubt I will return to do more runs and get the chance to try out other pokes.

And, who knows? Maybe in the future they’ll even update this hack to include even more beta pokemon that were uncovered last year. If they don’t, I’m sure someone else will.  

(This hack is largely the work of lvl_3, who created ‘Pokemon Super Gold 97.’ Then, the hack was further changed and refined by a team into ‘Pokemon Gold and Silver 97: Reforged.’ Both can be found at the PokeCommunity as patches.)