#*ducks head in 'i didn't participate yesterday'*

[mynonclicheblog]

LOCKWOOD & CO. APPRECIATION WEEK - DAY 2: FAVORITE SCENE

[poupeesdecirque]

Travel Blog Anime Festival - Part 2

I never had thought that the second day was about to be exciting as the first one, therefore I had to split the blog into two.

I had started writing it in the hotel, but this one here is done a few days later on, there was so much going on, but I loved every minute.

29. October - 3rd Uniform revival & on stage the 2nd

Last day of the con, started super early as the daylight savings and my bio rhythm doesn't go hand in hand. But I took the time to note down a few things already which was nice. Also a bit of drawing, didn't came to it the day prior and somehow I was drawing or at least inking something every day in october but not the saturday. Except you count in painting my face :'D

Checked out of the Hotel and went to Kassel. Decided to take my dolls out for some photos and fetch a hot drink, it was a bit warmer but super stormy.

Then I fought the make up and got dressed up for the last day. I had not much planned and aimed to head home around 14-15 as well, there was not much to do.

Walked around the hall several times, went through the park, actually met some people from the day before and talked with them again. Here some more impressions of the vendors and some of the guests/quests they had.

And then finally met another D.Grayman Cosplayer, an Allen! He told me that on Saturday there was at least two Allens and two Lavis,... I didn't meet any of them *sob* (one Allen could have been me though), a shame.

As I walked around I got yelled at that the person loves my costume AND my bag, thank you so much it means a lot to me. Also I got called Moyashi. I was like "huh what?!" but the person actually was a former Kanda cosplayer and couldn't resist. I love interactions like this, pls just go ahead with those.

Then I somehow gathered more and more courage, I ordered a bubble tea at a booth I had to speak english at (speaking english in public is always a bit of a struggle for me, I can do it fine but I am so nervous in regards of my pronunciation that I'm like WOAH FULL ANXIETY HITTING) and got told the tapioca pearls I wanted weren't done. Past-me would have went with the other option they offered but no I returned later on and got what I truly wanted.

Then things got wild. I randomly decided to join "Show your costume"-Contest as I told myself "fuck it now or never" and had no idea what to say. Was I nervous? Yes. But I somehow managed super well and even calmed down other participants.

I went on stage, joked about me not being lost from yesterday and told the audience that everyone who went on this very stage is a hero on their own and that everyone should stop talking themselves down. I got very positive feedback for my little speech and also some more positive for the act I had showed for the main contest. Thank you all. It was a pleasure to meet you all and I feel more connected to the community than I ever was.

The day went on with me challenging myself more. Like I talked to someone who I somehow see on every con but never had any relation to and we had such a nice talk. Then I went and ordered more food while speaking english.

As I was almost done and heading home another Cosplayer (Della Duck) whom entered the contest and was having almost a mental breakdown on stage came across me and I pulled her aside and told her how amazing she was and I could see how much she was sparkling and thriving. Please keep on going, you were amazing, I know how much a character/a costume can mean.

The day came to an end as I needed to get make up down and travel back before it got too dark. I snatched another snacky on my way back and arrived very happy at home.

I can say this weekend was an absolute blast and I am glad I decided to give it a go. Kassel is now connected with positive memories again and I am motivated for next year to challenge myself more again.

And I have to figure out the make up situation, I will change the eyeliner as it smears so much its horrible. It was the first time for me in years wearing make up and getting it off was another can of worms, my eyes suffered several days(!).

[miracleweaponhunt]

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 48: Semifinals

"So then, what's happened here?"

The worst came to pass, and a guard was dead. Found inside the building in the early morning hours. A large scar on his neck, looked like it was from a sword, or at least a machete of some kind. But despite that, there wasn't any blood to be seen. The guard had a sword, and it was chipped in a few areas to indicate he was in a fight, but there was very little blood on either the blade or his clothes. Especially odd considering just how gory the neck was.

"So then, Arden. What do you make of this?" Rodrick looked at the corpse as he applied his gloves to his hands. Arden tried to play it cool around the body, but he wasn't certain if it was working.

"Well, I was asleep. Didn't hear anything, so maybe he got shoved out the window?"

"Well, nobody seems to have tampered with the window." Rodrick approached the window and looked outside it. Nothing out of the ordinary there, either. No blood on the floor below, and while it was high up, there didn't appear to be evidence of a fight occurring.

"Wielders. Only option." Rodrick said calmly, taking out his notebook. "And I think I figured it out."

"Already?"

"There was a man who had the power to switch people's places, remember? He got kicked out during the qualifying rounds, but that was probably to keep a low profile. Okay, tell your men to get the information on every participant, and if you can, their current location. Because if one leaks information, they all do."

Rodrick scouted the top floor. Sure enough, the fake gauntlet was still where he left it, in a random hotel room on a pedestal, practically begging to be stolen. He pulled up a photo he had printed of the fake. Sure enough again, the gauntlet was now at a slightly different angle. Someone took the bait, and it was time to figure out who.

Cassandra woke up, barely able to hold her head with how heavy it was with thoughts of yesterday. Julian was still asleep, so she didn't think to disturb him. She just went down to the kitchen, got herself some toast to fill herself, and began eating. The other three remaining were in the room. Cheng politely waved to her, and she waved back at a safe distance. Capri and Willow were discussing something amongst themselves. What exactly? Didn't really matter. She was halfway through her toast pile when she realized she didn't put anything on it. Whatever, the bread here was probably grown for optimal muscle gain and tasted good enough as is. When that was done, her and Cheng were called into the arena.

Cassandra brought a spear and a axe with her. Keep this guy at a distance. And if that fails, cut him up.

"And welcome to the semi-finals of the Fightston Games!" The announcer rang out to the cheering crowds. "We got the one girl army out for vengeance, Cassandra Torres!"

The crowds cheered as Cassandra stepped into the arena. They were practically in a frenzy, wanting bloodshed. Her or Cheng? To them it probably didn't matter.

"And her opponent, the king of mutilation with no history except the bodies in his wake, mister Cheng Tse!"

The crowd was stirred up into another frenzy, but one of pure unfiltered hatred. The arena started throwing out curses and boos, but Cheng stood still to it all. He just shrugged casually to Cassandra, who didn't feel like reciprocating.

"And… begin!"

Cassandra brandished her spear and pointed it towards Cheng. Cheng looked at the point, and then back at Cassandra. Cassandra ran and swung the spear horizontally, which Cheng ducked under. Cassandra followed with a kick to his shins, and Cheng tripped. Cassandra threw the spear over him, causing him to panic a little. Cassandra grabbed him by the legs. Pretty simple plan here. Get him out without actually hurting him. Once they were at the edge of the arena, he was thrown out of bounds. In less than half a minute, he was dealt with.

"Oh, there's no blood this time?" The announcer whispered from his booth, not realizing his mic was still on. "I mean, Cassandra takes a quick victory! And now, Capri against Willow!"

Nobody was considering the fight ending this quick, so Cassandra shuffled through the entryway on her own. She wasn't Legion. Cheng was probably Legion, and she didn't know him. She didn't like him. She had no memories of him or anything else relating to the Legion, other than the ones she killed. Which felt bad. But it shouldn't. Except it should. They're brainwashed children grown into a weird cult. But was she also in a weird cult? Cheng said divine birthrights and monarchies were bad, and like…probably? Willow was cool, but all it took was one unprepared asshat with power and the skyspace would crumble. Because if Willow was to be believed, that almost happened with Fightston once? Her head was quickly filling with thoughts, and some of them leaked out when she bumped into the wall.

"You okay?" Willow asked from in front of her.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Good luck with your fight."

Willow gave Cassandra a side-eye, which she didn't respond too. Probably thinking about saving whatever Legion members were scheming around here. She stepped out into the arena, and Capri was already waving to the fans.

"And now for the second fight! The jovial princess vs the queen of clowns! Willow vs Capri! Now, begin!"

Willow charged towards Capri, spear in hand. She thrust it forward, and Capri ducked underneath, getting behind Willow and landing a kick, sending her forwards. Willow clutched her spear, spinning it around as soon as she regained her footing. Capri calmly jumped, landing like a cat on the edge of her spear, gazing into Willow's eyes before she flicked the spear upwards. Airborne, Capri quickly changed her mallet to the size of a person and slammed it downwards. Willow got away, grabbing the mallet as the size changed enough to fit in her hands. She snatched it out of Capri's hands, throwing it at her head and following that up with a punch to her stomach. 

Capri tumbled away dramatically, which eventually turned into cartwheeling around Willow, managing to evade every swing of her spear and responding with kicks to her legs. Willow was always able to stand, but her breathing was feeling heavier. She was quickly losing steam, so she had to end this, and end it quickly. 

She held her spear upwards, spinning it above herself with one hand. When she was almost certain Capri was in front of her, she spun it slightly slower so that the point was behind her when Capri approached. As she predicted, Capri appeared in front with a devilish grin and a fist coiled and ready. Willow barely managed to retaliate, their fists colliding, and Willow hopped over the sweep she knew Capri would pull, moving her fist to an overhead swing. Capri took the hit, sticking her tongue out and falling to her back like a cartoon. Willow hesitated to react, and Capri sprung up regardless. Willow swiped the air in front of her, and Capri put her fingers on the tip of the spear. Willow then swung her spear behind her slamming them both on the floor and diving to meet Capri on the ground. She landed successfully, and Capri was unable to move. Her arms were free, so she quickly scrambled to get her hammer out of her pockets, which Willow allowed with no resistance. She was just applying pressure to not let her up. Now she was suspicious, but this was her only option. 

She got the mallet out, trying to hit her hands with it, but Willow wouldn't budge. Out of options, she increased the size, and yet Willow didn't move. She threw the mallet upwards, and Willow still wasn't moving. Surely she wasn't trying to force a tie, right? But as the mallet reached it's apex, Willow quickly flipped Capri to the top, kicking her in the stomach before crawling out from underneath her as the mallet made it's impact. Willow quickly climbed to the top and sat on the enlarged mallet as Capri struggled to breath underneath the weight. The mallet shrunk, and Willow calmly pushed Capri's head to the ground as she tried to get up.

"Well, Capri. As fun as this has been, I think we both know you got outplayed."

"Well, I guess so." Capri sighed, slightly moodily. "I quit."

"And Willow makes it to the finals!" The announcer yelled. "Be sure to tune in tomorrow for the grand finale!"

[wowbright]

Fic: Look Once

Klaine Spring Fling: inaugurate

Words: ~1350

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Kurt and Blaine converse on the bus ride home from English group.

This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place immediately after the scene I posted yesterday, Let’s Talk About Love.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (More recent posts are in bold.)

––––

“I liked what you said today,” Elder Hummel said on the bus ride home. “About how loving things in little ways makes it easier to learn to love things in big ways. I've never thought of it like that before. Though I suppose you could've guessed that.”

“How so?”

Elder Hummel half rolled his eyes. “You haven't noticed that I'm jaded?”

“You're not jaded. You're just...” Blaine tried to think of the right word. The images that came to his mind were of a delicate garden hedgehog that had caught him by wonderful surprise when it wandered out of the bushes of an investigator's garden during his second month in Germany, and again of prickly pear fruit with its sweet pink flesh. “Protective. You love things. You just don't announce it as loudly as I do. Anyway, I don't think I’d ever thought of it that way before, either. Not consciously.”

"Well, then. We both learned something new.”

“Multiple things,” said Blaine, a vision of Chandler jogging down the stairs and out the door at the end of class coalescing in the back of his brain.

“Oh? What else did you learn?”

Blaine stared at his companion, willing him to remember. It didn't seem possible that he would've forgotten. “Chandler? He's actually kind of hot?”

Elder Hummel suppressed a smile and ducked his head. The slightest tinge of pink appeared around his ears. “Kind of. Maybe.”

“Oh, come on. You could ignore it during the discussion, but after?” Blaine wasn't stupid. He had seen Elder Hummel’s face when Chandler stood up, stripped off his hoodie to reveal his fitted T-shirt and ridiculously toned chest, stuffed the hoodie in his gym satchel, and announced that, since he hadn't finished his workout, he might as well jog home. Blaine had heard Elder Hummel stammer when he said goodbye, and had watched Elder Hummel’s eyes involuntarily follow the rippling muscles of Chandler's legs as he had disappeared out the door. “I saw the way—”

Elder Hummel let out a frustrated groan. “OK, fine. I noticed. But it doesn't change anything. I might look once because I'm a man, but I'm not looking twice, because I'm a missionary.”

“I looked twice.”

“It doesn't count when you look.” Elder Hummel scrutinized the headrest of the seat in front of them. “Can we drop this now? It's so embarrassing.”

“It's not embarrassing. It's natural,” said Blaine. He really didn't want to drop it, for some reason. There was a part of him that wanted to know more, wanted to ask Elder Hummel who else he had looked at ‘once.’ He sort of wanted to know if he had ever been one of them.

But Blaine wasn't a jerk. He changed the topic. “So, Doro and Stefan. That's exciting, right? Married andbaptized? They're inaugurating two new phases in their life all at once.”

“They're not baptized yet. They still have to be interviewed by Elder Clarington. He might not approve them.”

“How can he not approve them? You heard their testimony.”

“Yeah, but you know how he is. Besides, the decision isn't only based on their testimony. You know that.”

It was true. It had never come up for Blaine before—mostly because he'd never baptized anyone before—but he had read the interview questions plenty of times in their mission handbook. Most of the questions were focused on faith and the person's willingness to obey God's laws. But there were three questions that delved into the person’s past: “Have you ever committed a serious crime and, if so, are you now on probation or parole? Have you ever participated in an abortion? Have you ever had a homosexual relationship?”

Blaine had heard stories about the previous mission president barring anyone who answered “yes” to these questions from receiving baptism, which made no sense to Blaine—what was the atonement worth it couldn’t apply to everyone, and for things that weren't even necessarily sins? The church allowed abortion in some instances, and they kept saying that being homosexual wasn't a sin, only breaking the law of chastity was—and homosexuals could have relationships without breaking the law of chastity. Holding hands and kissing wasn't a sin.

The rumor was that President Steele was more lenient, guided by the Holy Spirit instead of zealotry. But even so, a positive answer to any of these questions would require Elder Clarington to pause the baptismal process until President Steele could counsel personally with the candidates. And from their frequent phone interactions, Blaine had a feeling Elder Clarington would take a certain glee in administering these regulations.

“Well," Blaine said, “I’m pretty sure Stefan and Doro aren’t criminals. The missionaries have been working with them for two years and it's never come up, right? And something like that would've come up. And they're straight. And Stefan was Catholic, and they’re against abortion even more than we are, so … Besides, Elder Clarington wants the district’s baptismal numbers to go up more than anybody. Even if he doesn't like a candidate, or doesn't like us, he'll approve them just because he wants to boost his statistics, right?”

“You're probably right. Doesn't mean he won't scare them off though. If he talks to investigators the way he talks to us, Doro and Stefan are in for an unpleasant surprise.”

Blaine thought over the things he knew about Elder Clarington. He was from Utah, he loved hierarchy, and he had baptized a ridiculous number of people in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. That last one was an argument in Elder Clarington’s favor. “Considering all the people he's baptized, he must turn that part of himself off when he isn't talking to other missionaries.”

"I hope so.” Elder Hummel absentmindedly twisted his CTR ring around his finger.

"Anyway, I don't think one jerk can destroy their testimony at this point. Has he destroyed yours?”

Elder Hummel’s smile was small, but real. “No. I mean, maybe he's even strengthened it? I don't know. When he's a jerk, it makes me want to learn to be less of one. To be more like Jesus.”

It was such an Elder Hummel sort of thing to say, self-aware and endearing. Blaine fought the urge to reach out to him—to squeeze his arm affectionately, to rest his palm on the back of Elder Hummel’s hand. Blaine wanted to say that he sort of liked it when Elder Hummel was a jerk—that when he got short with people, it was usually for a good reason. He wasn't like Elder Clarington, whose ego drove his irritation. Elder Hummel’s anger was born of righteousness. Jesus had experienced that kind of anger, too: bristling when the authorities scolded him for healing people on the Sabbath, chiding his disciples for treating kids as if they were less important than adults, flipping over the tables of the moneychangers at the temple. Anger over injustice was as important a part of Jesus’s ministry as embracing people in love. To every thing, there is a season.

But Blaine said nothing. He just looked at Elder Hummel and smiled fondly.

“What?” Elder Hummel asked. His tone was somewhere between curious and defensive. “You don't think I can learn not to be a jerk?”

“I don't think you're a jerk at all. I think you have so much love inside you that it's hard, sometimes, living in a world where people don't always operate from love. I think you get frustrated when you run up against that, and maybe you get short with people and maybe you get angry. But it comes from a place of love. You want people to see beyond themselves. You want justice on this side of the veil. And I don't think there's anything wrong with that.”

“Wow, that’s—” Elder Hummel turned to look out the window. Blaine could see his face reflected in the glass, his eyes blinking rapidly. “I mean, sometimes I am just a jerk. But, yeah. Those are definitely things I want.”