#Art block got me in its grasp for 2 months

[averagemysticchaos]

Groudon can’t take a compliment

[campingwiththecharmings]

Some Like it Hot (2)

AN: HIIIII. Right. So. Part one is here. This...diverted quite a bit from what I had originally intended but, I can't say that I'm too mad about it. 🤭 This has very little to no plot, negl.

(Un-beta’d)

Poe is your muse and you can't help but see the beauty in everything he does.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,481 Pairing: Firefighter!Poe Dameron x Photographer!F!Reader Warnings: PWP, smuffy af, p in v, idiots in love, morning sex, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

You wake gently, the sunlight streaming through the thin curtains, filling the room with its glow. You smile, eyes fluttering as you stretch, allowing yourself to sink into the mattress a little. The sheets rustle beside you as Poe shifts, drawing your gaze. You take a moment to study him, splayed on his belly, your eyes tracing the soft curve of his lips, the sharp cut of his jaw, smooth brow, and stubbled cheeks. He’s a work of art, really. Just…stunning. Every inch of him is perfect, as if he’d been chiseled from a block of marble by the gods themselves. And if that wasn’t enough, he also had a heart of gold. Never in your life have you met someone so kind and caring, so ready and willing to help others. 

You’d started dating almost immediately after your encounter at your studio (quite literally that same evening), and now here you are, months later waking up with him in your bed. Maybe it’s strange but you love watching him sleep, love to watch the light from the windows play over his bare skin, love to study the way his short curls fall across his forehead. The artist in you longs to capture this moment, and you can’t help but give in. Silently, you reach over to the bedside table and grab your phone, quickly swiping the camera app open and pointing it at him. You take a few moments to get the angle just right, then click the shutter button. 

He knows, of course, knows your gallery is full of photos of him (and occasionally, him and you). That’s not to say that he really gets it though, how inspired you are by him. As far as he’s concerned, he’s just a regular guy. He’s supportive though, indulging your fascination.

Unable to help yourself, you roll toward him, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. He stirs almost immediately, his full lashes fluttering as he opens his warm, brown eyes. You smile at him, pushing your fingers through his mussed curls.

“Morning,” you greet, your voice soft as you rouse him from sleep.

He returns your smile, eyelids heavy as he shifts and rolls onto his side to face you.

“Morning,” he says, his voice rough with sleep. 

His eyes drop to the phone still in your hand and his lips quirk in amusement. “Taking creeper shots of me again?”

You chuckle at his teasing, your cheeks warming. “Guilty.”

He grunts, reaching over and plucking the device from your grasp. “My turn.”

“No, stop,” you laugh, covering your face with your hands. “I haven’t even washed my face yet, come on.”

He tsks, grabbing your hands and playfully pushing them away. “You got me, only fair that I get you.”

You groan theatrically, pouting at him as he sits up and quickly your phone into position. “Yeah but, I’m not you.”

He snorts, the click of your shutter reaching your ears. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Suddenly, you lunge, kicking the blankets away to free your legs and arms. He chuckles, moving the phone out of your reach. 

“Not all of us are as photogenic as you, Poe, just—give it back.”

He rolls onto his back laughing, your phone still clutched in his hand. “A photographer who doesn’t like getting their picture taken. Aren’t you a cliche?”

You growl, crawling over and up his torso, arm outstretched as you reach again for your phone.  “Shut up.”

His laughter becomes muffled as your chest presses against his face, the vibration sending a tiny shiver down your spine. You rise up slightly on your knees, the hand not reaching for your phone braced on his muscled shoulder. His free hand comes to rest on your lower back, steadying you as you reach. 

When you finally manage to take your phone back, he doesn't put up much of a fight, instead taking the opportunity to pull you even closer with his other hand. He nuzzles your breasts through your t-shirt, your breath hitching when his nose bumps against your nipple.

“You had ulterior motives, I see,” you breathe, the fingers of your free hand tangling in his hair as his hands slip down and underneath your shirt.

He chuckles, moving his face back from your chest as he pulls your shirt up and over your head. His hands slide up to your shoulders once you’re bared to him, his eyes meeting yours as he leans in to take your nipple in his mouth. Your lips part in a gasp, your fingers tightening in his curls, and he groans at the slight sting of his scalp. The vibration makes your hips jolt against him, your body instinctively seeking friction as desire quickly wells inside you.

You sigh his name as he releases your nipple, mouthing his way over to your other breast to lavish the same attention. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbles, flicking the tip of his tongue against the pebbled flesh before sucking it into the molten heat of his mouth.

Your head falls back with a moan, your phone slipping from between your fingers and landing on the plush comforter of your bed. Poe’s hands slide down to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he encourages you to keep grinding against him. You can feel the hardness of his cock even through the thick fabric of his pajama pants, your need for him growing. He groans as you move, pulling back from your chest, the absence of his mouth dragging your gaze back to his. You swallow hard, the combination of lust and awe in his eyes making goosebumps rise on your skin.

He pulls your mouth back to his then, licking into it languidly, as if he has all the time in the world. You melt into him, your bare chests pressing together as you wind your arms around his neck. You let yourself get lost in his kiss, in the soft, wet slide of his lips as they brush against yours. It feels like you’re drowning, drowning in a sea of bliss, a sea where Poe is your only lifeline.

Poe slips his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, his thumb briefly circling your clit as he slips the others lower. He works you open gently, your cries of pleasure muffled by his lips and tongue. He brings you to your peak quickly, drawing out your pleasure with each pump and flick of his fingers.

You share a moan when you finally sink down onto his length, your slick heat welcoming him, engulfing him. He pulls your mouth back to his as you begin to ride him, your body rising and falling shallowly at first. His hand on your hip helps to steady you as you gradually increase your pace, your hands braced on his shoulders. 

“Poe,” you whine, throwing your head back as you chase the pleasure racing through you. “Feels so good—fuck, so good.”

He groans as he watches you, his eyes almost black with desire. “You feel like a dream, sweetheart. So beautiful like this.”

A shiver races through you at his words, at his attention. He’s always like this, so present, making you feel so desired, like there’s no one else he’s ever wanted so badly as you. He pulls you close, pressing his forehead against yours as you race toward your release, groaning as you move and clench around him. You moan when his thumb finds your clit, his touch bringing you even closer to the edge.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathes, pushing his hips up from the bed every time you sink down onto him again. “Take what you need.”

A few more thrusts and you’re there, body going taught, mouth slack, as you sail over the edge. His moan is broken as you fall apart around him, your body squeezing him, trying to take him with you. He spills himself deep inside you with a groan moments later, his hips stuttering with the force of his release. 

You stay like that for a while, just wrapped around each other, his softening cock still sheathed inside you.  It’s comforting, having him this close, feeling this connected to him. Poe strokes your back soothingly, leaning in to press a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth. You smile, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he melts into you.

“You working today?” you ask, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

He makes a noise, then shakes his head. “Nope. I’m all yours today, baby.”

You chuckle, eyelashes fluttering as he presses a hot kiss against the side of your neck. “Mmm, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

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[deep-space-lines]

Have you ever wanted to draw something but you fought due to your skill level at the time you decide not to do it

Honestly I don't think there's been a time in my life where I haven't experienced this. There's a file on my ipad I've had on the backburner for like probably over 4 years now; there's a really clear image in my head of a poster showing the detailed anatomy of an astronaut from the perspective of aliens who believe the spacesuit to be part of its body, and every time I come back to it, I keep saying I'll do it later because I just can't pull it off yet :') so yeah the struggle is real

That being said, I've personally found that apart from just 'don't draw it and let it haunt you for years until your confidence improves', there's two solutions that work for me

1: Just draw it the best you're able now, with the knowledge that it might suck (in your eyes) but there's no rule that says you can't come back and re-draw it a few months or years down the line once you've learned more, if you still want to. It can be super frustrating if you have a really concrete awesome image in your head that you know you can't execute the way you'd like, but treating it more like a rough draft than something that has to be perfect the first time around can help get around this. Genuinely I think about this post all the time now, I think it rewired my brain chemistry as an artist. Just accept it'll look bad, who give a shit!!!! If you draw the rough draft now, it'll either turn out better than you expected, or you'll figure out what you struggled with for next time. Either way you'll at least temporarily get The Image out of your head and satiate the Art Beast.

Which leads into...

2: Figure out if there's a specific aspect of the Thing that intimidates you the most and put some time into low-stakes practice with the skill that's blocking you. Usually it's gonna be something like perspective, anatomy, rendering/painting, struggling with dynamic poses, etc.

Starting a completely new skill from scratch sounds intimidating, but you're not starting from scratch, and if you sit yourself down and give it some dedicated practice, you WILL see improvement within the same day. Keep it up for a week or a month and you'll have learned a lot. If it's dynamic perspective, tell yourself "ok I am GOING to learn how to draw with perspective" and mess around with references, look up tutorials, draw other art pieces with perspective until you feel like you have a somewhat decent grasp of it. If it's anatomy or dynamic poses: (once again, cannot stress enough) use references. Trace and then copy references until you get a feel for the shapes (AdorkaStock is really good), practice figure drawing (Quickposes, Line of Action), watch Proko because they have really good videos on these things (1) (2) (3).

'Practice makes perfect' is simultaneously very correct and very unhelpful advice, but if you've got a good grasp of the fundamentals of art, picking up specific, individual skills to a 'good enough' level is not nearly as time-consuming and frustrating as trying to just get better at 'art' as a whole. It can be really good motivation tbh (at least for me), to have an image of something I want to create and telling myself "I am going to intentionally practice [indoor environments]/[perspective]/[faces]/[painting with unrealistic colors]/[insert specific skill] for a few weeks until I feel confident enough to draw this thing".

anyway sorry that was so long. idk if this is any help, just my personal experience

[cqtlatte]

hi !! i love how u draw bgs SO much its so pretty n pleasing to the eyes i literally cant look away !!! its like watching a sunset/rise w/ur friends n the fireflies r surrounding u n ur all in a peaceful silence n smiling, u know,, ! got inspired by u to try n draw bgs now lol, so i would appreciate any advice from u ! :D (no pressure tho ofc) thnks ! :]

Hello!!! Wahghh this means a lot to me, you don’t even kno. Makes me feel fuzzy and happy inside ;o;

I remember I first got into painting bgs when I was in a big art block, but I was also nervous to make the plunge myself!! I painted bgs pre 2020 but usually they were like a placeholder/afterthought bc of this fdggbfhdnjf LOL; but I was really inspired by twitter artists like Diesel2b and koichame (and many others) who put so much care into their compositions, and I wanted to start doing that too!

Hmm! For starters, I guess it would be good to start with something you would like to focus on, what types of bg you would enjoy drawing + a goal of where you want to take your paintings! (Not necessarily art style per se, but a direction to head in)

‘I want my art to be delicate like a flower (so cheesy)

Soft pastel colors but also vibrant in spots’

A quote I wrote in my planner in February LOL. If you look at my older works, I guess the vibrancy was there, but at the same time it was dull. I didn’t understand how colors worked without the help of premade swatches and such, altho I wanted to know badly, so I made this my goal!

This direction could be as specific as mine, but it could also be broad, like "I'd like my paintings to be realistic" or "I wanna learn how to paint mountains, trees and foliage" etc etc.

With this goal in mind, I started to take screenshots of different zones from Genshin Impact, and used those for reference in my bgs. Pretty much anything that caught my eye; a nice sunset, the view of Celestia from the pillar in Dragonspine, the patterns on The Golden House, etc etc.

Around the same time, I bought a brush pack called the Sumi brush pack by TheOneWithBear https://graphixly.com/products/theonewithbear-sumi-brush-pack-for-clip-studio-paint

And altho I definitely am not using them as intended since they were created for ink styled drawings lol, I found I had a lot of fun playing around with them in my bgs!

I said this in an earlier ask, but honestly embrace inconsistency + try new things in each of your paintings! If we stick to one way of doing a certain thing all the time, our brain will get good at doing that one thing, but I think our growth slows if we get too much in our comfort zone. Style will come naturally! It’s hard to force. So go with the flow, and you will surprise yourself!

After a while of using references, I started to veer away from that and was able to make my own compositions, and am having a lot more fun with colors now too!

Even if the outcome for some of your paintings are bad as you’re starting out, don’t beat yourself up about it. I have a zillion unfinished wips myself; I spent 2 months trying to draw a Kokomi piece I was proud of bc I couldn’t get her likeness right. Of the 6-7 sketches I made, I was only happy with 2!

(tldr:

1. Come up with a goal/direction to take your art in

2. Do self-study/life study! Usually drawing/painting things from real life helps us get a grasp of how stuff works, so its easier to paint. I also like to do studies from Genshin Impact for fun too tho.

3. Embrace inconsistency! Your style will come naturally. Don’t be disheartened if some compositions don’t work out!)

I hope my rambles will help in one way or another. I'm not a spectacular teacher, because even I still have much to learn, but these are some things I wish I heard when I was starting out! ^^

[outbreak-by-daybreak-archive]

Safety Blanket chapter 6: Dangerous encounter Leon Kennedy x Fem!reader

chapter 1,chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 

read on a03 

well howdy hey its been awhile (haha most of this was on my old Leon Stan account/old resident side blog rip) but here ya go..

warnings:canon typical violence 

word count:2,555

You and Leon walked down the steps into a small room filled with books and other strange art pieces, Leon did tell you the station used to be an art museum. You looked over at Leon who still did look a little sad.

“Hey are you ok?”, you asked him hoping he wouldn’t just ignore you, he was picking up supplies spread all around the room.

“Yeah I just”, he stood there for a second clenching his fists, “I just wish I could have helped him”, you could hear the sorrow in his voice.

“You can’t save everyone, no matter how much you wish you could, trust me I know that one all too well”, you said looking down and rubbing your shoulder.

“Does it get easier?”, he asked looking at you, you couldn’t describe what the expression on his face was, a sense of uneasiness, hope, it was hard to tell.

“I uhhh”, you stood shocked at his sudden asking of it, you wanted to choose your words carefully. You’d only been through all this in a week, yet you were hardened by it.

“It’s fine you don’t have to answer”, he said, turning away from you.

“No wait!”, your body just moved on its own and you grabbed his hand. You looked up at him seeing his blue eyes again with his blonde hair, you remembered how you were when he found you scared and panicked, when you freaked out about Maria he was there for you, he hadn’t left you behind. You remembered his calming heartbeat, his smile and overall kindness. Unlike everything that had happened to you Leon was pretty much the only good thing about this hellhole, and you weren’t about to leave him in the dust.

“No it doesn't”, you said looking deep into his eyes, he saw how misty your eyes were, “you just get better at hiding your emotions sometimes”

He looked back at you, you had a soft smile on your face, he didn’t notice how pretty you were with your (H/C) hair and your (E/C) eyes, was this an awkward time, yes, yes it was, but it wasn’t just your looks but the way you held yourself, after everything you’ve been through both physically and mentally, you still kept your head up high.

“And I’m not about to lose anyone else”, you said pushing a piece of hair out your face, “and that’s a promise”, you said looking up at him smiling.

“(Y/N) I-”, Leon looked at you shocked at your words, maybe you were stronger than he thought you were. People who knew you well always said you were loyal no matter what, even to the very end.

“Come on let’s get going”, you said excitedly giving Leon a nice bubbly smile, he walked over still shocked by the sudden switch in personality.

You wanted things to go back to normal desperately. You missed the old you, the one that was happy and cheerful no matter what, but that wasn’t going to happen until you got out. So why not try and be happy just for a little while. Leon got hints of what you were truly like. Maybe you did over do it a bit but it was something you were going to have to get used to. Leon smiled at you and followed you towards the doorway that led to an elevator. You two shuffled inside of it.

Leon took a deep breath and pulled out his gun, motioning you to do the same thing, “we don’t know what’s down there”. You nodded at him pulling out your shotgun. Leon then pressed the button and the doors shut and down you two went.

The door opened and Leon told you to wait as he cautiously stepped outside. He looked around for a moment before signaling you to follow him.

You stepped out and were surprised and confused to where you were, obviously underground but something about it was strange. You followed Leon down a few stairs until you got to a place that looked like a boiler room. That’s when you heard someone or something walking around. You quickly held onto Leon’s arm, anxious at the sound.

“What the hell was that?”, you whispered

“I don’t know, stay close”, he said towards you and you nodded back. You followed him further inside, still very confused at where you were at. You followed Leon until you two were blocked by a locker. You stepped back and allowed Leon to see if he can push it out of the way. Leon was able to move it out of the way, which surprised you slightly but something surprised both of you.

A man, no monster, you couldn’t tell, jumped from the ceiling startling both you and Leon. Leon just stood there shocked however as you shrieked out of fear. You both just stood there for a moment before it slammed and grabbed Leon while it pushed you to the ground. You were dazed for a second before realizing Leon was being slammed against the floor over and over again. You quickly stumbled to your feet. About to ready your shotgun when the monster broke through the floor causing both it and Leon to fall through.

“Leon!”, you quickly yelled about to jump down when a quick jolt of pain from your ankle caused you to fall backwards. You looked down to see Leon trying to evade the monster as it chased him. Leon tried shooting at it but realized it wasn’t doing much. You wanted to jump down and help but that fall might definitely hurt your ankle if you weren’t careful. You knew you had to help Leon but how was going to be tricky, you didn’t have a lot of time. You noticed it’s eye on its arm.

“Leon, Shoot the eye on its arm”, you screamed at him still trying to find a way down there. You kept walking towards the hole that the monster left but immediately turned back around. You were basically pacing. You heard Leon groan in pain for a second. Your face went pale and your heart raced. You quickly looked back at the hole.

“This is stupid and it’s gonna hurt”, you said to yourself preparing to jump down, last time it was a bigger drop so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad. You took a deep breath and jumped down trying your best to land on your left ankle first opposed to the right one. You were sort of sort of successful but the force that went on your right ankle was still enough to cause a quick bit of pain from it, you flinched for a moment before getting up to find Leon. You quickly found him and noticed he was cornered by the monster.

“Hey you!”, you shouted at it, and in which it immediately turned around to face you. Leon looked at you and panicked at whatever you were about to do. You just stood there as it walked over to you slowly. Your breath hitched for a moment, as you hoped maybe Leon could get a good shot on it.

You were about to grab your shotgun when it suddenly grabbed you by the head lifting you up. Panic spread throughout your body, the monster proceeding to crush your skull. You screamed out in pain trying to reach for the shotgun but were unable to. You felt it grip your head tighter and tighter, your breathing becoming very ragged and shallow. You started screaming even louder tears were streaming down your face. Your face is turning red. You wiggled around trying to get out of its grasp causing the syringe in your pocket to fall to the ground.

It felt like forever as you just were in the air with your skull being crushed. You suddenly fell to the ground, very hard. You grabbed your head and curled yourself into a ball. It felt like your head was going to explode and your body felt like a noodle. You could barely move. You saw the syringe in front of you and slowly grabbed it, putting it back in your pocket. You heard many gunshots and curses from Leon.

You laid down for a while, breathing in and out trying to regain your composure. You looked over to where Leon was and saw the monster start stumbling backwards and falling into the abyss. You tried getting up but quickly fell back down.

“Hey take it easy”, he said to you, “are you ok?”, he looked at you worriedly. You tried to smile at him but ended up crashing into him. You fell right into his lips, causing Leon to take a step back. It was a very awkward kiss. Leon forgot that physics still exists and watched you headbutt him.

Well one thing Leon learned is that you had a very durable skull. He placed your head back against the railing so your head could be supported. Leon went out to look for more supplies while you dozed off and unconsciously remembered something.

You looked at the other kids playing on the playground. Laughing and screaming just having a very fun time. You wished you could do the same. You were shy, a little too shy, it had been about a month since you moved to a new school and were having no luck finding any friends. Most of the other kids ignored you when you tried talking to them. You just sat at the swing set alone, sadly swinging by yourself.

“Hey are you ok?” you jumped up startled at the voice, you looked over to see a girl with black hair and green eyes.

“Umm I uh”, you didn’t know what to say or who this girl was, she looked about a year older than you.

“Well I’m Maria, Maria Cortez”, she said at you with a smile, “and this is Frank”, she then pointed at a boy behind her and he shyly smiled at you.

“Hi”, he said with a shy wave

“What’s your name?”, Maria asked looking at you”

“(Y/N)”, you said very quietly.

“Well it’s nice to meet you..hmmm how about we play tag together...all three of us”

You then realized she was talking to you as well and awkwardly pointed at yourself to confirm she was talking to you.

“Yep, how would you like to be friends with us?”, she asked you with a smile, you immediately jumped up excitedly and joined them walking towards the playground. That was the day you met Maria, your childhood best friend and her friend Frank.

“(Y/N), hey can you hear me?”, your eyes fluttered open when you heard Leon’s voice. Your head still hurt like hell but besides that you were pretty ok.

“Yeah”, you groaned out, “my head still hurts like hell though”, you said bringing a hand to your forehead.

“Please don’t do that ever again”, he said and you quickly noticed the blush on his face.

“What are you blushing for?”, you asked more grumpily than you meant it to be.

“It’s just uhh you uhh”, he said awkwardly pointing at his lips.

“I have a cut?”, you questioned very naively tilting your head to the side slightly.

“No”, Leon gulped out, still pointing at his lips, he then started to make kissing noises and you immediately caught on. Leon did this so childishly it made you laugh for a minute then your face turned red.

“W-When”, you stuttered out, “h-how”

“Well you sort of just fell into my lips and it happened, if it makes you feel better you did accidentally headbutt me”

You still were embarrassed about the whole thing but you did laugh after the head butt comment.

“Can you get up?”he asked, offering a hand.

“Yeah”, you said, taking his hand getting up slowly.

“I think someone is watching us”, he said pointing to a ladder. Leon went first to check out the area above

“It’s safe, come on up”, he said as you climbed up the ladder very hastily. Leon helped pull you up. You looked around and noticed you were in a parking garage of sorts. You looked and saw the gate that led outside. Next the gate was a kiosk. Leon looked around to see if any doors were unlocked, sadly all of the doors were locked. You both walked over to the kiosk realizing it needs a key card.

“Damn we need a key card”, Leon said just then you two heard growling, you and Leon slowly turned around. Seeing a zombie dog.

“You gotta be kidding me”, Leon said as the dog came rushing towards you two, Leon quickly shoved you out of the way as you slammed against the floor. The dog then pounced on Leon attacking him. You quickly got up looking at Leon who was now being attacked by the dog, he tried reaching for his gun but was unsuccessful. You were about to grab his gun when a bullet went through the dog's neck.

“Hey”, you heard a woman say, you and Leon both turned towards the voice and saw a shadowy figure.

“Who is that?”, Leon asked her. While you stayed silent

“Stay sharp”, she said, just then the dog tried getting back up but Leon quickly reached for his gun and shot it again.

You instinctively put your hands in the air while Leon sat up and drew his gun.

“Lower it”, she said to Leon before pulling something out of her coat, “FBI”, she then flashed a badge in both of your faces.

Leon quickly put his gun down, “sorry...thank you”, he was cut off by the dog slowly getting up again, the woman shot it, finally killing it this time.

“For the help..”, Leon countunied.

“Surprised you two made it this far”, she said to the both of you, she looked at you, you still had your hands in the air, “you can put your arms down now”

“Sorry”, you said quietly and you quickly put your back at your sides. The woman began to walk away from the two of you. Leon quickly got up weakling towards her.

“FBI, huh, what’s going on here?”, he said to her

“Sorry that information is classified”, she said behind her towards Leon, you caught up to the two of them.

“Where are you going?”, Leon asked the woman. She slowly turned back towards Leon.

“Do yourselves a favor; stop asking questions and get the hell out of here”, she said at him she then walked away.

“Hey where are you going?”, he yelled at her as she went through a door. You grabbed his hand, stopping him for a second. He looked at you confused.

“We don’t know who she is”,you whispered. You didn’t really trust her. Leon just turned back towards where she left. He sighed before walking around the garage seeing if anything was left there. You just followed him. You saw him digging through the trunk of a car. He stopped for a minute.

“(Y/N) can I ask you something?”, you just looked at him curiously.

“Y-yeah”, you gulped, you saw him hesitate for a second. He was trying his best to phrase his words.

‘“Why do you have a syringe in your pocket?”

[vicunaburger]

Imperfect and Inhuman, are we?

Fandom: School of Rock: The Musical (AU Verse) Chapters: 3/? Pairing: Dewey Finn x OC (Magdalena Newton) The Players: Dewey Finn, Magdalena Newton, Ned Schneebly, The School of Rock Students Word Count: 1,618 Warnings: M for Future Things

Notes: I’m just gonna sit here like it hasn’t been 2 months since an update

Chapter 3 - Late Night - Taxi

It was 1:30am.

There was a light drizzle all day, which turned mostly to slush due to the drop in temperature the last few nights. Not enough to soak through to the bone, but enough to make one excessively damp, which was arguably worse depending on the type of clothing one sported.

Unhappily, Magdalena sat outside on the fire escape, her umbrella doing little against the wind whipping the rain around her at such a height. Something was wrong, and it was gnawing away at her nerves by the minute. Dewey was supposed to have been home hours ago, so why wasn’t he going into his room? His van sat parked in its usual spot, having been there when she arrived, but she didn’t see him go into the apartment building. Faint noises through the apartment caught her ear, but they weren’t his sounds. Lighter footsteps, a softer touch on the light switches and refrigerator door.

Even though they had been meeting every night for the past three weeks - sometimes only a few minutes at a time - they had not reached the point where she could venture in and out of his home as she pleased. Dewey often met her on the steps outside, or as he got home from band practice. Never the right time to invite her inside.

What if something had happened to him? He could be lying in an alleyway somewhere, beset upon by local vandals. Maybe he was tutoring one of his students and lost track of the time?

What if he was on a date?

Magdalena pulled herself into the fur collar of her coat, resembling an unhappy feline as she stared holes into the window glass. If he was on a date, without her, she was going to be extremely distressed to say the least. She wouldn’t be too angry with Dewey; perhaps she was too old fashioned in her attempts at courtship. Too slow to reach the intended result. Truth be told, she was rusty in the art of new-age courtship; the very idea that she was pursuing him without reciprocation was almost too much for her to handle. It was unladylike, but so was this entire century.

The soft sound of the window being opened in front of her brought her attention back to the present, finding herself face to face with Dewey’s roommate. He blinked at her, which she mimicked, and cleared his throat with an awkward grumble.

“Uh… can I help you?” He asked, giving her a suspicious glance.

“I take it Mr. Finn isn’t home?” Magdalena adjusted her posture, trying to put on a more intimidating air. “Why would that be?”

Ned’s eyes seemed to glaze over briefly, “He’s at the bar on 5th.”

“5th and what?” She fought the urge to roll her eyes, not wanting to risk breaking the tenuous hold she had on his subconscious.

“Matinee. It’s open mic night, he’ll be there for a while until someone drags him home. Usually me.” He explained, seemingly unbothered by her on the fire escape.

Nodding, she took a deep breath, standing in preparation for descending to the ground below, “Don’t worry about him tonight, I’ll take care of him for you. Go to sleep or… whatever you do at night. If needed, you’ll recall this conversation happened in the hallway like a perfectly normal human interaction. La revedere”

—

Magdalena stood just outside of the bar under an awning, shaking out her umbrella and doing her best to put herself in a more presentable state. Offkey caterwauling of drunken patrons made her regret her sensitive hearing, wincing as she opened the door to the chorus of an 80s love ballad.  

She weaved her way through the small bar like a serpent through the grass; the small room filled to the brim even so late into the night. It didn’t take her too long to find the musician, hearing his distinct laugh and following the sound to the far side of the bar. He was surrounded by empty beer bottles and a few random patrons - female, she noted - his face flushed with laughter and alcohol.

Dewey caught sight of his neighbor immediately; sticking out from the usual crowd wrapped in her fur trimmed coat.

“Snow! Wha- what’re you doing all the way here?” Dewey stumbled his way through the girls surrounding him, “I wanted to c-call, ya know. But I need your number… so I can call you and stuff. How’dya know I was here? Are you magic?”

He was trying to be subtle but having to yell over the noise made that rather impossible. Magdalena reached out her hands, grasping his shoulders to steady him as he wobbled in place. Dewey, perhaps misunderstanding the gesture, pulled her tight to his chest, engulfing her petite frame in a hug.

His body was so warm, she thought she might melt.

Magdalena wasn’t going to let his opportunity slip away, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the mixed scent of his soap, sweat, and the blood sluggishly running through his veins. Even when they would sit side by side on the front steps of his apartment, she had yet to be this close to him. Social convention dictated that a certain amount of distance must be kept between people of small acquaintance.

Technically, since he was the one who broke that social boundary, she felt comfortable enough to start showing him more physical affection, and not just hidden wordplay.

“Not magic, I’m afraid, just well informed. Your roommate told me where to find you, and warned me about how inebriated you might be.” Magdalena allowed herself the small victory of sliding one hand behind his back, patting him gently. “It’s late, Mr. Finn, don’t you have practice tomorrow?”

Dewey’s gasp was audible even with the noise around them, his grip tightening around her, “Oh… oh… OH SHIT. I gotta go to sleep. Gotta go home. Not in that order. Mags!”

He let her go, placing his hands on either side of her face as he struggled to see her clearly. She could feel him adjusting the placement of her head within his vision, trying to keep her head steady as he wobbled around.

“Mags, do… do you have a car? Did you drive?” Dewey leaned forward as though they were sharing a secret. “Can you take me home? Maaaaaaags, you’re my only hope.”

Magdalena didn’t answer him at first, completely thrown off kilter by his incredible closeness and his use of a new nickname for her. “Mags” was a new moniker in her history; often being reduced to “Magda” by close friends and family only. Was he being sincere? Condescending? His logic being muddled by the amount of beer in his system?

Eh, she would take what she could get.

Magdalena nodded her head, watching him follow the movement with his own, “Come, we’ll go home, Mr. Finn. No cars, but the walk will sober you up in no time. Get your things.”

It took a while to get him out of the bar; Magdalena made sure his tab was paid, and that he had his coat on before the stepped outside. Even walking halfway down the block was a struggle, but not because he had a few pounds on her and thought it was “a great idea” to lean on her for support. It was struggle because she could very well

It wasn’t the fact she had to support him; it was the fact she had to do so without using near her full strength. Truth be told, she could have easily lifted him off his feet and carried him over her shoulder, but that would have been terribly suspicious given her small stature. It didn’t help that he would start slumping over, tripping on something or other on the sidewalk and narrowly avoiding splitting his head open on the cement.

Magdalena managed to subtly put him back on his feet, thankful that he was too muddled to notice. Suddenly, Dewey stopped cold, wobbling in place as she kept him steady.

“Maaaaags. I can’t walk anymore. My legs are bad.” He whined loudly, “How far?”

She winced at the volume, knowing it was probably the result of him unable to hear himself clearly, “We’re not even halfway to your apartment, Mr. Finn. Come on now, if you can stand, you can walk.”

Pouting, Dewey slipped himself to the ground with dead weight, sitting down on the sidewalk with a huff, “Too far.”

For a brief moment, she questioned her mental faculties in regard to her affection for him, “Ahh… I see. Would you like me to leave you here out in the rain and call transportation?”

“…no.” Dewey’s pout became more pronounced.

“Then we find ourselves at an impasse,” Magdalena bent down to be eye level with him. “Tell you what, my home is about a block away. If you can manage that distance, I will offer my sofa for the night.”

He eyed her suspiciously, “Do I get a pillow?”

She nodded, getting up and extending him a hand, “Yes, and you’ll be next to a fireplace, Mr. Finn. I am nothing if not hospitable.”

At once, Dewey leapt up from the ground on his own, seemingly catching a second wind at the prospect of a warm place to sleep. He threw his arm around Magdalena’s shoulders, squeezing her tight to him with a goofy smile plastered on his face.

“C’mon, Snow White, take me to the cottage~” He waggled his eyebrows at her, earning him a soft bit of laughter from his escort.

“Cottage isn’t the word I would use, but do as you will, Mr. Finn.”

Writing Tags:  @hoodoo12 @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @a-subconscious-manifestation @asriells @missihart23 @heknowshisherbs @mrgeuse @amywright @beetlebitchywitch

[eye-zen]

DROWNED

Swim or Sink

As I waited for the TSA security screening to open, my heart raced. It was absolutely the wrong time to have any negative thoughts but the anxiousness hit me like a ton of coconuts. You know that moment when you imagine everything that could possibly go wrong. 

The airport was cold and had a feeling of abandonment. Occupied only by workers cleaning, a few TSA agents, and an armed officer accompanied by a german shepherd. Arriving 4 hours before my 8am flight, the anticipation was overwhelming. After braving the cold for several months I was prepared to head closer to the equator. Where the sun was food and the sea was a reflection of the sky on a cloudless day. Stress is an understatement as life in the city is accompanied by ceaseless sirens, congested trains, and accessibility to any junk food you can think of. The separation from my island home had taken its toll on me, ironically, I never lived in the islands but I imagined for years what it would be like. Never thought I would make the move under these circumstances but people around me were dying and I felt the grim reaper closing in.

To relieve the overthinking I put on my headphones and listened to some jazz, It was Nocturne by Alfa Mist.  It calmed my nerves long enough for security screening to open and for me to begin the process of checking in to my flight. The check in process was smooth as I packed very light, just a duffle bag with a few underclothes and a couple of essentials. I headed to gate 18 in a sleepwalking daze. Throughout the desolate airport I saw a few people sleeping in corners cuddling with their charging spouses but we call them cell phones. 

I found a seat in a dimly lit corner near the window. The seat faced the tarmac and had a view of the city just on the horizon.  Taking deep breaths, I still couldn’t believe the moment was here. Thinking to myself, by this time tomorrow I’ll be sleeping in a nice bed and waking up hours later to the fresh smell of sea water. My eyes began to burn and became heavy like bricks as I fought my sleep. Finally I gave in as the tunes I was listening to expedited the process. An hour later I woke up and surveyed my surroundings, there seemed to be a few people who arrived and were waiting. I picked up my phone to check the time and change to a different playlist. Within a few minutes I was nodding off again, I hadn’t slept in over 34 hours. This time when my eyes opened the sun was rising over the cityscape and a few more airplanes had entered onto the tarmac. When I turned my head the seats were starting to fill up as life was finally being breathed into the airport. I adjusted myself in the seat and reached for my bottle of water. It had just enough for a sip, not nearly enough to quench my thirst. A few seats away from me was an older woman with what appeared to be her grandchild. I asked her if she could keep an eye on my belongings while I went to the restroom and a concession stand. I asked if she would like two bottles of water as well but she politely declined. When I entered the bathroom I looked for a urinal with the least amount of liquid on the floor. Afterwards I made my way to a sink and made wudu,  Washing my hands, face, nose, ears, and arms before drying myself off with a paper towel. I felt refreshed but still tired, I guess the 2 hour nap had not done me much justice. After buying my water and a few packs of M&ms i headed back to my seat. I killed time for a few more hours before my flight was finally announced to be boarded. I walked down the long corridor to the plane and sat at my seat 27F. Before the entire plane could be seated I fastened my seatbelt, turned on my music and went to sleep. 

I woke up and heard the ice shuffling into a cup before I opened my eyes

Excuse me would you like orange juice, tea, coffee, or water ?

I quickly wiped whatever drool had not made it to my clothes and opened the window. The sun was glaring and instantly made me hot so I closed it.  May I have some water please, thank you. I looked at the time and only slept for 45 minutes. I thought to myself, these naps are feeling like eternity. I opened the window back halfway and stared out of it. Gliding across the sky, in and out of clouds I couldn’t help but smile, I dreamed of this. 

Hours later we began the descenion and then landing. Looking out the window I could see nothing but plush green mountains sitting in the middle of blue water. As we approached the island, the water went from dark blue to teal, nothing I’ve ever seen before. The landing was smooth and I noticed this airport didnt have any bridges for the plane to be attached too. To my pleasant surprise the plane stopped  in the middle of the tarmac and passengers began exiting the plane. As people wrestled with their carry on luggage from overhead compartments I sat patiently with my duffle bag ready but nervous to exit. One of the flight attendants opened the back door which made the process go quicker. As I exited the plane a gust of wind hit my face. It felt like a smooth caress. The smell of sea water instantly made me smile as my nose and lungs happily embraced it. 

The airport was surrounded by green mountains and the ocean could be heard just over a treeline. I couldn’t believe I finally made it. Feeling like I escaped the grasp of death only to make it to heaven on earth. I walked past the baggage claim and straight to the arrival section. I was the first from my flight to leave. Clothed with a hoodie and a long sleeve t-shirt I took it off and almost threw it in the trash before hearing a familiar voice.

OY ! aye cuz ! 

I looked up and there was my cousin sitting in his car. I hadn’t seen King in years. One year he came up for the summer when we were younger. All I remember was his accent and him putting a tiddy on my basketball from always kicking it. 

Yo…wassup cuz! 

Glad to see you made it, how was your flight ?

Man it was ok, I slept a lot. The view from up there was crazy though cuz, can’t believe we are in the middle of the ocean like ths. 

Yes man, this is my home. Nothing like it you finally made it. I’m gonna show you a good time….yo where are the rest of your bags ?

This is all I have. 

What ? Haha pack light huh ?

You already know cuz…

I threw my bag in the back seat of his pickup truck and we drove off of the airport lot. The weather was beautiful and the landscape even better. Just hours ago I was in the concrete jungle now I’m cruising in paradise. There were vibrant colors, a stark contrast to the dark grey matter that clouded the city. People on the side of the road selling fresh fruit and vegetables, even a man on a horse in the middle of traffic. A few minutes later we stopped on the side of the road and got some coconuts to drink from a man selling them. At first I wasn’t too fond of the taste but I finished it and felt refreshed. More refreshing then any bottle of water I’ve ever had.

Well cuz were going to go on a longer ride later but I have to work this morning and afternoon.  I’ll drop you back off at the house for now. 

Damn Cuz, you work two jobs ?

Yes Man, in the morning doing a little construction and at night got a gig at the resort. Here, you gotta hustle. Paradise ain’t easy but it’s worth it.

Yea, I get it.

Well I don’t live too far from town so you can find your way around while I’m at work. All you have to do is tell the taxi where i live and they’ll drop you off. I mean unless you are tired, it looks like you haven’t slept in days.

Okay cool. Well yeah  you right about that. It’s been a day or two. Couldn’t sleep thinking about getting on that plane.

Yea well I heard everything that was going down up there, I’m glad you made it. Here, it’s all about respect. You don’t trouble anyone then everything should be irie. 

Yea for sure .

We turned off the main road and started heading up a steep hill. The road was not paved and surrounded by trees, so much so that it blocked the sun. After a few bumps we approached a bright red house with a white roof sitting on top of a grassy knoll. The view was amazing, I could see the ocean and what appeared to be “town” at the  bottom of the mountain. I didn’t realize how high we came but we seemed to be pretty elevated. 

Dam cuz this is a crazy view..

Yeh Meh son. Before I go to work I sit out here and drink my tea. Early in the morning or late at night you could hear the waves crashing from here, especially during a full moon. 

Well let me show you around real quick, I have to head to work. 

King gave me a tour of the house and where I would be sleeping. The house smelled like incense and had art on nearly all the walls. My bedroom was small but decent. It had a bed, nightstand, closet, but the best feature was the windows. I had a perfect view and the breeze flowed through effortlessly. Swaying the curtains back and forth like sails on a boat. I flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. Those few minutes became more as I fell into a power nap once again. When I woke up the breeze was still blowing and I still was in the islands. Part of me was extremely relieved that it wasn’t just a dream. 

I took a shower freshened up and decided to go exploring. On the kitchen counter King left a house key and a freshly picked mango from the tree outside. 

I began my trek down the hill in search for town. Cars passed me by honking as they maneuvered down the narrow winding road. One of the cars honked as it passed me by and I waved. The car stopped so I guess they thought I flagged them down. It turned out to be what’s known as a dollar cab.

Yea yea,. Good Afternoon, Where are you headed?

 I’m going to town. 

To town huh ? You’re not from here , What part of town are you going too ?

I don’t know, just town. I’m going to walk around and check everything out. 

Ok, ok. Well what brings you here brethren. 

I don’t know, just wanted to experience paradise.

Oh, ok I see. Well from my experience talking to foreigners who come here it’s always two things. You are either running from something or running to something. Which one is it ?

To be honest it might be both. Now if i’m running to something, only time will tell. 

Yes, I. Well here on my island, it’s a beautiful place. Weather is 80 degrees plus everyday, plenty of good food and beautiful women. But one thing I must warn you. Some of the women here are Mami wata or what you foreigners call mermaids. You must be careful, nothing here is what it seems. 

 Yea ok, i’ll keep that in mind. 

We approached the town after a few minutes. The buildings looked relatively old and there were quite a few tourists traversing the streets. I paid the taxi driver the fare and exited the car. I crossed the street with a family of roosters and entered into a clothing store. I bought some sunglasses and a bottle of water. Block by block I walked through town learning its layout. It must have been obvious I wasn’t from the island because I could see people staring at me. I thought I would be able to blend in, being that the tourists were for the most part white but that wasn’t the case. After an hour or two of walking around I found a restaurant on the harbor. The water was like a parking lot for boats. The sail boats seemed to have stretched for miles as traffic in and out of the harbor was steady. Under the surface of the water was a huge fish. I could see them swimming back and forth as if they were waiting to be fed. I ordered the most american thing you could probably get, a cheeseburger and french fries. After eating my lunch I sat on the harbor for a while then continued my walk through the town. During my walk I noticed I approached a restaurant bar that grabbed my attention for some reason. It was called Sea Breeze and unlike the rest of the restaurants, stores, and bars this one was by its loneliness just outside of the main cluster of businesses. I made my way in the empty bar overlooking the water and sat down. 

A few minutes later I could hear voices behind a closed door. There was a man carrying a clipboard with a phone to his ears.

 Good afternoon, can I help you.

 Yea sure, I just want to order a drink. 

Ok, no problem. Serene ! Serene ! You have someone out here.

 Seconds later a woman appeared from the door holding a box of beer. 

Yes, good afternoon, what can I get for you?

For a second I was at a loss for words. Her presence alone paralyzed my tongue. Unable to speak, I just nodded my head until I snapped out of my daze. 

Umm yes,, good afternoon, sure can I have a glass of water,

Ok, is that it ?

Yes, that’s it for now.

 Ok, well here is a menu for you. Let me know if you want anything else.

Her skin was golden brown and her hair was black, curly and glowing. She was adorned with a few pieces of jewelry. A perfect accessory complimenting her skin tone. After giving me my water she walked back to the room and retrieved a few more boxes. In a few more trips she began restocking the bar with drinks We conversed for a few minutes before I asked for a drink, a glass of whisky to be exact. I don’t normally drink but it’s as if i was hypnotized. I mean I guess thats what a bartender is supposed to do but it felt different. Jokingly I asked, “you wouldn’t happen to be a mami wata, would you ?

She looked at me with a blank stare and began laughing. 

 You haven’t been on the island a whole day and you are already talking about mami wata. Haha who have you been speaking to? 

 The taxi driver mentioned that to me,

 Well what did he tell you about this mami wata. 

Not much, just that some women on the island were mami wata and that I should be aware of them. 

 Haha well that’s all you know. The elders say mami wata are half women and half fish. In the daytime they live on land looking for people to bring back to the water at night. They Are said to be the most beautiful women and have the ability to put men in a trance. They lure men into the water at night where they drown or are never seen again. 

Wow choices, I escape death from gun shots only to be in danger  by the hands of a beautiful woman fish. I think I’ll take my chances with the latter. But, thank you for the fairy tale, I’ll keep that in mind. 

Before I knew it, hours passed and I had more than enough drinks. It was the most drinks I’ve ever had at one time in my life. The sun was down and when I looked at the clock it read 10pm. The restaurant workers were cleaning up and starting to close up shop. What in the world just happened. Where had all the time gone ?!? Everything at that point was confusion. The girl I was speaking to looked at me and said, were closing up now. I walked outside the restaurant onto the street. The road was empty of taxis and most of the restaurants had started to close. I began walking through town retracing my steps. My stomach was growling horribly and I was extremely tired. I thought to myself “ How the fuck, did i let this happen. I really don’t remember drinking that much, how much did i drink? I feel horrible” 

I finally made it to the outskirts of town and saw the direction I needed to walk home. I stood on the side of the road for a few minutes hoping that I would get lucky and maybe my cousin would pass me by or at the very least a taxi cab. In 15 minutes I decided to just walk back to the house. At first the walk was cool untilI started sweating profusely. The roads were dark and the sound of crickets and dogs nearly drowned out my thoughts. I walked until I finally reached the hill that led up to the house. Suddenly a wave hit me and I became even more drunk than I already was. Along with this came stomach pains I could barely fathom. How much did I really drink and did I not eat while I was drinking. There were so many questions that I had no answers to. I stumbled up the hill every few steps before having to lean up against a tree for a break. I took one step before collapsing to the ground. I rolled over on my back and stared up at the sky. It was the first time I’ve seen stars in years. As much as I hated laying in the muddy ditch I knew that I needed to lay there in order to recover. I gained the strength to get up and began my trek back up the hill. There would be a few more falls before I finally made it to the house. Dusty dirty and drunk. Wasn’t quite the experience I imagined for my first 24 hours in my new home. My cousin’s car wasn’t at the house yet so I figured he was still at work. I slipped off my muddy clothes and reached in the pocket for my cell phone. The phone was nowhere to be found. Wow, so I lost my mind and my cell phone, THIS CAN’T BE LIFE RIGHT NOW. 

I stumbled to my bedroom and flopped on the bed, dusty and all. Hours later I woke up as the sun was just starting to rise. I hopped up and threw some clothes on. My head was hurting and my stomach was still in pain. I thought to myself this is going to be a bad hangover. I walked outside and began tracing my steps. Before I knew it, I was back at the restaurant. The black gate surrounding the bar was locked and there was no Sea Breeze sign but rather a poster that read for Sale by owner. For Sale ? I was just here last night, ain’t no way. I was too ill to figure it out so I walked back to the outskirts of town and caught a taxi home. On the ride back home my headache became more severe and my stomach pain was excruciating. I probably was in desperate need for food but now I didn’t even have the strength to make me food. I exerted all of my strength walking back into town searching for my cell phone. I laid back in bed and began tossing and turning in agony. The breeze flowing through the window offered a little bit of relief but not enough to ease the pain. It was the most painful thing I’ve ever felt in my life. It was as if whatever I drank started to slowly eat out my insides. I grabbed onto my sheets, clinching them and holding the pillow over my face. Suddenly sun rays came through the window and pierced through the pillow onto my face. I turned my head and looked towards the window. At that moment a sharp pain striked me in the stomach and I closed my eyes. 

I blinked once then all of a sudden I was staring at myself. In disbelief I blinked again and I was still looking at myself. As if I was standing over the bed. I could not believe what I was seeing. The craziest part about it, is I was completely conscious of what I was seeing. There I was, looking at my body tossing and turning in agony. I was able to see myself from the outside looking in but I did not feel the physical pain. The more I blinked the more I started to rise above my body and move farther away. The further away I moved the less my physical body started moving. The vision of myself started to become blurry when suddenly I heard a loud knock

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

Aye cuz ! you good in there ? OY!

King  opened the door and my eyes suddenly opened and I felt pain again.

Yo whats up cuz, you good ?

I saw your clothes outside when I got in. I put them to be washed.

Yea. yea everything is good. My stomach is killing me though. Do you have any advils?

No cuz i dont use those things. I have some tea brewing right now. 

Man, I don’t know what happened. One minute I was sitting there having a drink of water and whisky then the next I was laying in a ditch. 

 Hahaha well yea i can see that. You wasted no time getting acquainted with the Mami Watas I see.

Hold on, you know about the mami wata too ??

 Of course, why wouldn’t I be. 

Why didn’t you tell me about them? Do you think that’s what happened to me. ???

When I left yesterday you were knocked out. I figured you would sleep all day but hahaha I also didn’t expect this to happen to you on your first day here. Well you must be lucky because you actually survived. Word of advice cuz, don’t get too caught up in looks. Looks can be deceiving.. A pretty face can kill you.

Too late cuz, I may have already died.

[brownstonearmy]

2020-03-22: The Money Pit, Part 2

July 9 (Friday afternoon)

It's a beautiful clear Friday in Brownstone, and the party takes a break from administrative duties at SHART to check out what's happening at the weekly auction. Nothing stands out to the party at first; it's the usual clutter of people trying to unload whatever junk they have for whatever some poor sap is willing to pay. But Lucky's eyes go wide as Harold, the town crier and auctioneer, announces a special auction of a Mystery Item! Harold pulls back the sheet to reveal a porcelain bowl with two two wide handles. A small spout under the lip of the basin continuously emits a stream of clean and pure water, but the bowl never overflows. The outside of the basin is engraved with an intricate pattern that runs in a single band around the object.

Bidding starts at 2,000GP and the wealthier citizens unleash a flurry of bids. The bids get higher and higher, and Q (who goes by Dazzle today) notices two street urchins creeping up to the stage. The two boys leap up to the auction block, snatch the basin, and start running. The crowd erupts into chaos, but the party gives chase. Spleenifer clips the edge of a wagon during a tight turn, and Dazzle almost gets clubbed by an overzealous guard who is actually aiming for the fleeing children. Lucky gets out her trusty Fishing Pole of Haemurteem, invokes the power of its stylish pants, and manages to hook the street urchin carrying the basin by teleporting right in front of them. Don't worry, the hook got his belt, so he didn't get hurt. He did trip and fall, though, and twists his body to save the basin from hitting the ground.

Dazzle knows the kid that Lucky snagged, and Dazzle grabs both boys by the ear for a quick interrogation. Pip, the kid holding the basin, does some work at Robin Stormblossom's ranch. He's not a bad kid normally, just a victim of circumstance who tends to act out when he's feeling lost. Dazzle chastises the guard who attempted to knock out the boys and tells the guard that they can handle the situation from here. Pip puts on a big display of tears and wails to underscore just how terrible this situation, but Dazzle is a talented performer who knows when people are just putting on a show and tells the poor kid to calm down and look more believable.

Spleenifer makes an attempt to defuse the situation by giving Pip a small boop on the nose, but forgets to say something. Pip gets snarky, because a tall strange lady just smacked him on the nose out of the blue. But Pip nevertheless starts talking. According to Pip, the basin was stolen from the Order of the Immaculate Shadow, and he was helping to get it back to its rightful owners.

Lucky remembers a bit about the people in the Order of the Immaculate Shadow, in that they are a religious movement whose members periodically shun interaction with the outside world. The Order is currently undergoing sequestration, and even if a sacred artifact of their faith, members of the Order would likely not report the theft to outside authorities. When Pip is questioned about how he knew about the theft, he confesses that his mother joined the Order a few months before the sequester started. She's taken her holy vows and is supposed to abstain from all contact with anyone in the outside world, even family. But some members are a little lax in their adherence to this precept. Pip sneaks occasionally sneaks over the wall to the Order's compound to see his mother, who reported the theft to Pip and asked him to look for it. He doesn't know who stole it or why, only that someone stole it. And that's how he came to recruit a friend to steal it back and return the basin to its rightful owners.

The information seems plausible enough, and the party is empathetic about the situation. Spleenifer understands the importance of sticking to a principled moral code, even if its not entirely legal. Dazzle entertains the possibility of "returning" the basin and then stealing it back from whoever buys it. But Lucky has a different plan. With a thunderous sneeze, she turns invisible along with Pip and his companion. The boys start running toward their destination, unencumbered by people watching them.

Spleenifer breaks off a tactical tree branch for paladin reasons, while Dazzle runs to the retreating guard to spin him a sob story about how the children are under the influence of a spell and that they wouldn't normally do something like that. Dazzle's performance is solid, and the guard promises to go to the authorities and step up investigations into who might be responsible for casting spells on children. While Dazzle is distracting the guard, Lucky conjures up a minor illusion of the basin on the auction block.

Harold can see through the illusion, but the crowd doesn't seem to realize it's an illusion. He's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he immediately starts the bidding back up. An excitable gnomish inventor by the name of Cornelius wins the bid, but just as Cornelius is about to pay for his purchase, the illusion disappears. Harold declares that all sales are final, but Cornelius declares this auction is a fraud and stomps off without paying.

The party members excuse themselves and head back to SHART. A regular party of adventurers might find this auction fiasco to be enough action for one day, but these fine folk is prepared to deal with many more of fate's shenanigans today. And fate, it seems, is happy to oblige them.

Halfway back to SHART HQ, a curious scene unfolds. Lucky and Q/Dazzle are carrying a treasure chest off in the distance, but the Lucky and Dazzle we've been following throughout this adventure are still with Spleenifer. How can there be TWO Dazzles and TWO Luckys? OG Dazzle and Lucky are gonna find out, and charge screaming toward the impostors. Spleenifer, meanwhile, says a quick prayer to keep her psyche in check after seeing double.

Lucky the Second looks over toward the party. "Spleenifer!" she screams in a raspy voice. "YOU CAME BACK TO ME!" This isn't Lucky at all, but Trashpit in disguise. Trashy drops his end of the treasure chest and finds something suitably odoriferous in the street to roll in for a quick touch-up to his natural musk before closing the distance to the object of his infatuation.

Meanwhile, Dazzle the Second drops the treasure chest and makes a break for it. The real Dazzle grabs D2 by the shoulders and demands to know who they are and why they are impersonating such a talented performer. Dazzle II's answer doesn't come from their own voice, but someone else: Grinnin' Brynnan. He touches the puka shell necklace he's wearing and a flash of energy washes over some random townsfolk. "Help me out!" Brynnan screams, and the townsfolk are suddenly ready to fight for their new best friend. Dazzle yanks that necklace clean off Dazzle II/Brynnan, but Brynnan worms out of Dazzle's grasp and starts running.

Real Dazzle casts Dimension Door to get ahead of Brynnan, and brings Lucky along for the ride. Lucky busts out the Mizzium Apparatus to cast Watery Sphere and traps Brynnan in it with a few (luck-assisted) rolls. One of the townsfolk also got stuck in the sphere and they end up exploded from a stray Chaos Bolt, but that's just the cost of doing business in Brownstone when you only have 4 HP. Brynnan spends the next little while getting smacked around with various implements of violence, but he eventually breaks free of the sphere's grasp and falls to the ground.

Across the street, Spleenifer is chatting with Trashpit to suss out the details of the evil plan that was just interrupted. Trashpit isn't good at keeping secrets from someone as tall and well-perfumed as Spleenifer, and spills the beans about everything. The people that normally ask the ratfolk to do their dirty work also enlisted the help of Brynnan because he does magic. With the help of a magic spell and a hat of disguise, Trashpit and Brynnan impersonated two SHART employees and walked out with treasure. The plan was to dump it in the sewer where Trashpit lives with his ratfolk roommates, where the roommates could move the gold to another location. In exchange for all of this information, though, Trashpit would like a second date, and Spleenifer agrees to the terms.

Back in the combat zone, Brynnan tries to teleport out of the situation. Lucky counterspells the teleport away. Dazzle breaks out a Hypnotic Pattern to pacify some of the townsfolk, and Brynnan gets ready to unleash a destructive Chain Lightning spell. But Lucky is quicker: she counterspells the lightning and saves a bunch of lives in the process. With his options dwindling, Brynnan surrenders.

Spleenifer and Trashpit leave the scene without saying goodbye to the rest of the people. But Spleenifer is a considerate paladin and scrawls the word "Spleen" on a scrap of paper taken from her holy book. She wedges the paper into a manhole cover and hopes the signal will be enough for the party members to find her whenever they get done with whatever it is they are doing with Brynnan.

Once in the sewer, Spleenifer explains her aspirations of elevating the collection of her tithe into an art form. She would like to see if she can "help" Trashpit have a projectile poop in such a way that it could stand on its own as a coat of arm. Trashpit is down for this weird little experiment. Spleenifer gets the projectile part of the equation right, but not the aim. Now there's just poop on her shield, and Trashpit ends up blissfully fainting afterward. Spleenifer uses this bit of unsupervised time to explore the rest of the Trashpit's lair and discovers a curious locked gate with a message saying "Speak today's truth." On the back of the message card is an equally curious list of statements.

Our Truths

Sunder the intangible weapons of disloyalty, lest you die upon its blade.

Money and the control of it are the primary methods of power.

To sedate an institution requires an appropriate anesthetic.

Wedge subterfuge into the cracks of the shadows in order to remain undetected.

Thuggery of the mind is superior to thuggery of the blade.

Frivolity in word or deed is to be punished sevenfold.

Satisfaction comes from the control of those weaker than ourselves.

Back on the surface, Lucky has confiscated Brynnan's Hat of Disguise and left Brynnan groveling for his freedom. Brynnan offers up his friend Bierzenstein, an animated beer mug that can do its own keg stands, as a bribe to let Brynnan go. He doesn't get off that easily. Dazzle expresses interest in his reported ability to do a keg stand, and Lucky agrees that perhaps some sort of drinking contest is the way to settle Brynnan's fate. Of course he also has to do the walk of shame back to SHART with the treasure chest in tow and return it, before the party will let him demonstrate his drinking abilities.

The party doesn't take Brynnan to a bar. That would be too easy. Instead, they take him to Jangles's house. Mr. Jangles answers the door and Lucky asks if Jangles has some untested potions he can spare. Jangles ALWAYS has unusual concoctions available for testing, so Dazzle and Lucky set up a game of beer pong. No magic allowed except for what the potions do, and the first team to sink two shots decides Brynnan's fate. The stage is set and the game begins.

Lucky wins the coin toss and goes first. She sinks her shot, and Brynnan chugs the first potion. Nothing seems to happen at first, but smoke starts pouring out of one of Brynnan's pockets as he tries to make his first through. A candle somehow lit itself and screwed up his aim. Dazzle goes and sinks their shot, forcing Brynnan to chug again. Brynnan looks panicked and starts talking about a shadow that is following him. Since Team SHART has officially won at beer pong, Brynnan's fate is sealed.

...Or is it?

He pleads to leave before the shadow catches up to him, and the party surprisingly agrees to let him go. As long as he chugs the rest of the potions, that is. Brynnan doesn't second guess his chance at freedom and starts chugging. The next potion results in the cup getting adhered to his face, and the fourth cup causes random blood to begin seeping through Brynnan's robes. Nobody knows what happened with the fifth cup, but everyone agrees that Brynnan drank it. Brynnan gulps down the final potion as quickly as he can manage with a cup still stuck to his face and starts coughing. A few seconds later, he's managed to vomit up a completely intact cup. Brynnan flees, but Lucky follows him at a distance and manipulates the shadows with cantrips to really play up the psychological warfare angle.

Now that Jangles and Dazzle are alone, the two discuss their plans for the afternoon. Dazzle unleashes equal amounts of charm and innuendo, and Jangles picks up on it. We won't get into it in much detail on this blog, but know that there was heavy petting involved.

Brynnan flees toward the sewers where he was supposed to drop off the treasure. He realizes too late that the sewer is not a very good place to avoid shadows. Lucky is still in pursuit and making those shadows extra-spooky. Spleenifer is still puzzling her way through the gate situation, and inspired by the words on the back of the card, places the Wait Watcher stone between some of the bars and sets it to expand and bend the bars to allow her passage. The strategy appears to work, and Spleenifer slides through the gap to discover a ladder leading up. Only one way to find out where it leads, and that's to climb the ladder.

At the other end of the sewer, Brynnan is running in terror and screaming the whole way. "Frivolity in word or deed is to be punished sevenfold!" he screams as he approaches the gate. A chime sounds and the gate swings open. Brynnan starts climbing the ladder, but Spleenifer is already above him.

"You pervert!" she yells and stomps Brynnan square in the face. He is undeterred and screams at her to open the trap door. Lucky follows close enough behind to see and hear all this unfold, and also ascends the ladder. Brynnan and Spleenifer tumble onto the floor of a large conference room filled with stacks of papers. Brynnan nopes right down the stairs, but two people enter the room before Lucky and Spleenifer can give chase.

Holden Harcourt, a human landlord who owns many properties in the city, and Zaribeth Quickfingers, a wealthy halfling businesswoman, are blocking the only exit to the room. Lucky swipes some of the papers to read later. Zaribeth chastises Holden for leaving the gate open to let strangers in, and explains to Lucky and Spleenifer that this is a restricted area and they are not welcome here. As the pair are escorted out, Lucky recognizes this place as Vine House, an apartment building for halflings and other smaller races. Lucky reads the papers she snatched as soon as it's safe to do so and sees mention of a special election. But whatever election that's mentioned on that paper hasn't been announced publicly yet.

The adventure ends for the evening on that mystery. Stay tuned next time for more!

[hoodie-lover]

My Multiverse - Part 5

Ink walked out of the anti-void and rested on his small bed in his own private house, one no one had ever stepped foot inside. He hadn’t been in the anti-void in ages, it was fun to see again after so long. Maybe he would go back sometime soon, after he fetched Blue back and punished him Error for treason. Ink chuckled at the fact Error would risk the lives of his friends just to snitch on him, well, Ink did need to punish Fresh, Cross, and Nightmare for Error’s actions. But he would have to think about that, it would need to break Error’s will, and maybe Blue too. Of course he would need to break the three people getting physically tortured, but that was a given. Ink was so giddy, but he would need to rest, this was something, sadly, he could not rush through and get out of the way. If Classic ever found out, he’d be done for. 

His mind wandered to his time in the anti-void. The emptiness, the dull white, the blinding white that came from every direction, it was overwhelming. But the worst memory was the walking, he was just walking. He was as glad as he could be it was over, and that he had a bed to sleep on, and that he could actually sleep. 

The multiverse was thriving, AUs as far as the eye could see and only the stray genocide run everynow and then, even then, they were swiftly taken care of. The Creators worked diligently, AUs popping into existence every day, stories rich and colors flowing from all directions. Though they owed most of their inspiration to their little helper, Ink. He was small, around three to four feet tall. He was a skeleton with ornate tattoos swirling and resting on his smooth porcelain bones. He managed to cover them up with thin layers of clothes, but a single blot of Ink stained his cheek. 

He came to them as they hit writer’s block or gave them the brushes and colors they need. He helped them find their spark of inspiration when it slipped from their grasp, or taking a load off their shoulders as he helped organize their ideas. He was their little helper, a source of joy, and the most trusted person in the multiverse. Their oracle, telling of what their creations were up to and spreading their news and words to the multiverse. All was well, all as good, all was right. But no good things last forever. 

Files and art were disappearing, their safe space becoming dust, and Ink was silent. They were freaking out, what they had spent hours, days, weeks, months, even years, all swept away in one coordinated attack. No one knew what was going on, well, one little skeleton did. 

He knew what was happening, the multiverse was deteriorating. He was running around, trying to save what he could, but his efforts were in vain. Everything he fought to protect, everything he worked for, all crumbling before him. Starring upon the pieces of his world, his friends’ cries and screams, the AUs getting ripped like tissue paper in a hurricane, the sight was atrocious. For the first time in his existence, he openly wept. 

He wept for his creators, he wept for his friends, and wept for the carnage that was playing out before him. Crumbling to his knees, he clutched his head and screamed, drowning out the noise around him. The sobbing and destruction tore through the multiverse ‘till all that remained was a white void. Though the void was a dark and dreary place, this was the opposite, the anti-void. In his mental ruin, Ink felt proud at that name. He looked around the blank world that remained, it as cold and quiet, nothing but him for all eternity. Knowing that there was no other option, Ink chose a direction, and started walking. 

And walk he did, for miles and miles, he did not hunger, he did not thirst, he did not tire, and he did not even sleep, for all was meaningless in the anti-void. With no way to tell the time, Ink only walked and walked, until he forgot his name, until he forgot the Creator’s, until he forgot the old multiverse. All he knew was walking, all he knew was blankness, he had forgotten how to feel, he had forgotten everything. 

Through the ages, with every step, as each memory faded away, a spark of fire burned in his soul. Getting brighter and brighter with every step he took, every memory he lost, and with every second that passed. It itched and coiled, suffocating him as he walked endlessly. It was driving him mad, the urge to create, the urge to make, the urge to see life. He could not take it one day, and looked at his soul, a white upside down heart with rainbow sparkles decorating its surface. Ignoring the pain, ignoring the tears in his already fragile mind, he buried his fingers inside and ripped the soul to shreds, until nothing was left. 

A calm washed over him as a would a shower of cherry blossoms, resting on his skull and shoulders. Warmth pulsed through his bones as the urge to create lessened, he could breathe. However, even as he calmed and breathed his first breaths of tranquility, he felt a gaping hole in his being. Something was missing. Something important. It was nagging him, a horrible little bug that wouldn’t go away. 

With no goals, no way, and no options, Ink walked on. But every now and then, a little voice peeped up. It was soft and sweet, though it never stayed for long. But he still walked on, the voice meant nothing to him. It was nothing of value, just a voice. Another voice piped up, gruff and hoarse. Still, it meant nothing to Ink. Over time, more and more different voices appeared, they even got louder and more coherent. He didn’t know who they were, but they seemed to know him. They called him a friend, and they seemed upset when he ignored them. 

However, some of the voices talked about things that caused a small twinge of nostalgia within the soulless survivor. Their memories of him, latching onto strings that made up the memories he still had. His name, colors, and creating. 

“You saved my AU, you taught me to believe in myself!” One femine-esc voice told him, and he recalled many times he saved the AUs of legends. 

Their room was small, a college dorm he assumed. He popped onto their computer screen, waving an energetic wave. Though the person was startled at first, Ink explained who he was, and why he was here. He guided them and their pencil along the digital paper, creating something. A masterpiece he called it, while the person thought such brilliance could only be average! He threw a tantrum, screaming compliments and going on a 2-hour diatribe about the awesomeness of the person’s creation.

“You got me into creation!” A young masculine voice cried out. And another chain of memories came back to him. But he felt nothing. 

A young man was sitting in his room as he fiddled with the stylus. Bored and unenthusiastic. Ink’s little voice came from the tip, asking how they were and why they had a stylus in their hand, but no tablet in sight. He huffed and shrugged his shoulders, to which Ink took as the biggest insult of all time. He asked him a bunch of random questions, to which the guy stuttered and answer with vague and incomplete answers. Then, Ink gave him a tablet and guided his hand, telling him tips and tricks, whispering compliments and inspirational quotes. When the drawing was done, joy was beaming from the man’s face. And he promised to continue drawing.

“Your kind words, and everyone else’s saved my life!” One exclaimed, he couldn’t tell the age nor gender, but their tears as they cried out to him, dripped onto his skull. They were colors. Blue to be exact. As the paint dripped down Ink’s face, nearly getting into his sockets and nose hole, he felt pain. Sadness hit him like a sledgehammer as he collapsed onto the ground, memories back in their fullforce after what he assumed was days of talking and half-hearted listening. 

The voices talked to him, comforting him and saying the words he would say to them once upon a time. As their words fell upon his non-existent ears, yellow paint dripped from the sky, they gave him happiness and joy, something he’d been lacking. He felt their strong embraces as he cried his tears, but as time went on, the paint dried up and his emotions dried up with it. 

The voices were distressed at the loss of their dear friend once again. A common notion was shared between them all, even if it went unspoken. As Ink continued to walk, losing himself in his soullessness, they needed to find a way to get more of those colors, more of those paints. Ink, their friend, their inspiration, their hope, their savior, depended on it.

Every ounce of joy, sadness, pain, love, anger, greed, jealousy, and millions more poured into a waterfall. The Creators used what little remained of their power to make a new Doodle Sphere, equipped with the waterfall they had made, every emotion they had and would feel, poured out of the waterfall as emotions for Ink. It was the least they could do for someone who had done so much for them. 

When the pulled Ink out and launched him into the waterfall, he was back to normal. They all rejoiced, by Ink didn’t hear them. He wandered and wandered the Doodle Sphere, looking for them. But he didn’t see or hear them. And as a consequence of his soullessness, his memories of his dearest friends suffered, being partially tied to the paints. He would continue searching for them, trying to hear their voices, but it would not be until he was far from the friend that they had known, would he find them again. 

In his despair, he dipped his hands into the waterfall, letting the thick watery colors wash over his hands, he had taken off his fingerless gloves so he could relax and actually see his tattoos for the first time in years. 

As he lifted his hands, some paint stayed cupped in his hands, and a paintbrush formed from the paint. His eyes sparkled as he waved it around, paint and ink splashing everywhere, making a mess of things. Though he quickly realized it was normal paint and ink, weird objects began to form from the liquid. Buildings and houses, trees, animals, and grass. Things Ink had remembered, but he had longed to see again. 

He wondered, he thought, and he hoped he was right. He wanted a small rabbit, something fluffy and small. He twirled his brush around, and where he dropped the paint, was a small and fluffy bunny. Ink gasped and jumped for joy. He could make things with his ink and paint. He could rebuild the multiverse, he wouldn’t have to be alone. He was a god, he could do anything, the curiosity and possibilities were intoxicating. 

He sent a tsunami of Ink, drowning the animals, destroying the grass, and demolishing buildings. He jumped into the waterfall’s large pool and tried to remember everything about the original multiverse, and after some time, he swam up and gasped for air. He began to create, making sketchbooks and figuring out how to open portals. He finally managed to get into the original universe, he got a lot of items he used to make his new world.

He began to make AUs, Underswap, Underfell, Swapfell, Reapertale, Dreamtale, and some other basic AUs. But he began to get tired of the same old stories, he began to wonder what he could do to make things interesting. What if Nightmare ate the dark apples? He thought long and hard about it, and the more he did, the more excited he became. Ink was thrilled, and when he remembered the bad endings to the classic Undertale universe, the future looked entertaining and exciting. 

Next

First

Characters belong to their respective owners

[lofiyeol]

PAPERCUTS - CHAPTER 2

summary: After the sudden deaths of two of their friends, Chanyeol and Baekhyun try to piece together what happened and end up uncovering a tangled love story.

rating: R

genre: angst!!! a lot of it!!!

pairing: kyungsoo/jongin

length: chaptered

warning: suicide mentions throughout

READ ON AFF

He has dreams, extraordinarily vivid and yet bizarrely indescribable, containing the familiar soft visage of Kyungsoo and the jagged, squiggly one of Jongin, the unknown. Flitting in and out of sleep, each time he opens his eyes to the waking world he’s greeted with a different scene—Baekhyun alone, staring out the window, sitting cross legged on the floor, Minseok and Baekhyun talking in hushed tones over the coffee table, and then Jongdae on the phone, leaning against the wall, his usually happy face drawn into uncharacteristic grim lines. When he finally sits up, night has already fallen and he and Baekhyun are alone again. The television dances with bright colors, and Baekhyun’s attention is grasped by the videogame on the screen, sitting completely still other than his thumbs pressing combinations into the controller. Chanyeol watches him play for a little while as his consciousness slowly returns.

An evening breeze floats in through the cracked window, cutting icy cold across Chanyeol’s cheeks. The moon is especially bright tonight, the light of its pale face hitting the side of Baekhyun’s crouched form and casting a strange malformed shadow on the carpet. It triggers an image from Chanyeol’s dream: Jongin, dancing, face obscured, in some bizarre landscape of desert and tundra mixed together. As his feet swept through sand and snow, they had drawn a picture—a malformed figure, a hunched and fanged monster with clawed hands.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, voice barely a whisper from the day of disuse. Baekhyun immediately turns around, forgetting the game. “You’re awake.”

            “Is there… food?”

            “Yeah.” Baekhyun stands. “My mom made some for you before she went to bed for if you woke up in the middle of the night. I’ll get it.” He disappears from view for a few moments before returning with a tray of kimbap, which he places in Chanyeol’s blanketed lap.

            “Thank you.”

            Baekhyun sits down next to Chanyeol as he eats. They both watch the little character bouncing on the game’s home screen.

            “Minseok and Jongdae came by. They got told the same as us. Jongdae went to Jongin’s house since he lives nearby but it was all taped off and nobody would let him inside. He ran into Jongin’s landlord who said Jongin lived there by himself, no mom or dad or siblings with him. Kyungsoo’s parents are going to have the funeral for him soon, but I don’t know what’s going to happen with Jongin. Jongdae seemed to think he had no family at all.”

            The 8-bit theme song repeats and repeats in the background as Chanyeol chews slowly through his food. “Do you know… why?”

            “No. Nobody does, except cops. Right now, at least.” Baekhyun steals a roll of kimbap off Chanyeol’s plate. “Jongdae told me both bodies were at Jongin’s but that’s all the information he got.”

            The tremble in Baekhyun’s lower lip is just barely noticeable, but his emotions are betrayed by his breaking voice. “I-I didn’t even really know they were friends.”

            This is the part that hurts Chanyeol the most, that will keep him up every night for the next few months: just how much he didn’t know.

                       Baekhyun eventually crashes in the early hours of the morning, falling asleep face down in the couch, wrinkled school uniform bunching at his knees. Chanyeol stays awake until the morning rolls in. The sky is as pleasant as the day before, swollen white clouds grazing past the bright sun. Not a spot of darkness to be seen. Chanyeol moves a cushion so that it blocks the light from Baekhyun’s sleeping eyes before he leaves.

            The cold wind whips his body he walks out of Baekhyun’s apartment complex, and he pulls his scarf tighter around his neck. Suffocating himself, comforting himself—Chanyeol can’t be bothered to tell the difference. Today’s issue of the Seoul Herald is splayed open on the cobblestones of the driveway, pages fluttering in a desperate plea for attention. Chanyeol thinks the newspaper looks like a body, the white of bone and black of death open in a terrible perverted blossom. But everything is starting to look like bodies to him now, the flowers and ivy and cracked walls and trash bags lining the streets. He snatches the newspaper into his shaking hands as he begins to make his way to the bus stop.

            SUCIDES IN SEODAEMUN-GU

            He expected something, but the title displayed on the paper’s front page still makes him wince and his heart fall into his stomach. The outside of what he assumes is Jongin’s house is printed in vivid color, a small, unassuming apartment decked in caution tape like some twisted art installation.

            The bus is full of morning commuters but Chanyeol squeezes in, folding into a corner and hiding himself behind the newspaper. Beneath his thick coat his insides feel like they’re wrapped up in some pressurized knot, only getting tighter and tighter as his eyes drink in the words.

            Two bodies of teenaged boys were located yesterday in a Seodaemun-Gu apartment, dead of apparent suicide. Though motivations are still unknown, the fact remains that these are two additions to the record-breaking number of teen suicides this year. Teen suicide is becoming an undeniable epidemic in South Korea, one we as a society cannot ignore any longer.

            Chanyeol flips angrily through the statistics and hotline numbers, looking desperately for more images, more details, names and times and reasons, but comes up empty handed. Gritting his teeth, he crunches the newspaper into a ball.

            He feels wrong. Every limb in his body doesn’t work the way it should, his brain keeps misplacing thoughts and his tongue flops useless in his mouth. Chanyeol couldn’t care less about most things; he had never had a serious outlook on life and did fine for himself, armed with a flirtatious tongue and boyish good looks. With Baekhyun by his side, he was one half of an unstoppable dynamic duo, the both of them likeable for their own good. Now, Chanyeol can’t even remember what it felt like to smile, or to function properly at all. He stares at the blank ceiling trying to understand how it’s only been a day since he got the news—how will he last?

            He manages to find his apartment through the thick fog filling his brain and buzzes himself in, slogging up a flight of stairs to his front door. His mother’s hair smells like flower perfume as she embraces him wordlessly into a hug.

            “Did you eat? I made toast. Baekhyun’s mother called and told me you spent the day at their house. She said you looked really ill. Are you okay? Do you have a fever?”

            “M’fine,” Chanyeol mutters as he pulls out of her embrace. “Really.”

            “Well, if you need anything…” Chanyeol’s mother falters.

            “I’m fine.” Chanyeol touches her shoulder as he walks to his room.

            He has the wherewithal to pretend in front of his mother. But when he shuts the door behind him, he sinks to the ground, brow broken out in sweat. It’s hurting him more than he would have expected.

            Not like Chanyeol had ever thought of a situation even remotely close to this one before—Kyungsoo was healthy, ostensibly happy, and had been a part of Chanyeol’s life since elementary school. They laughed and played almost every day; even when Baekhyun entered the picture at the beginning of middle school Kyungsoo didn’t take a backseat. They lived close to each other after all, and Chanyeol went to his house every week to do homework and watch television and drink when Kyungsoo’s mother was out. It was a normal life Kyungsoo had, and Chanyeol thought he knew a lot about it. His mind reels, attempting to reckon once more with the present situation. Again, he hits a wall. It’s too preposterous to comprehend.

            Furiously he rummages through his backpack and fishes out his cellphone, which thankfully has ten percent of battery left, and scrolls quickly through his contacts. He has to hear it from the person who knows the most. Right now, that appears to be Jongdae.

            His classmate picks up on the first ring. “Chanyeol?”

            “Hey,” Chanyeol starts lamely. Jongdae cuts to the chase.

            “I was at Baekhyun’s earlier, but you were asleep. I assume he told you some details.”

            “Yeah, but I want to talk to you.” Chanyeol pulls off his jacket, tossing it onto his bed. The door is cool as he leans his back against it. “You know… something, right? More than anyone else?”

            “I just live close to Jongin, that’s all. I went to his house and saw the outside of it. They wouldn’t let me in, obviously, but they told me to give them my name and they might be in contact if they needed anything.”

            “Like what?”

            “Actually…” Jongdae falters, and then clears his throat. “The police need a… second ID. On the bodies. Specifically Jongin’s. They want to be sure.”

            It’s surreal. It’s so surreal that Chanyeol’s tongue is tied and his legs are locking and his arm is hanging limply by his side. Jongdae’s sigh crackles through the speaker. “I can’t believe this is fucking happening.”

            “I can’t either,” Chanyeol manages through his lips that suddenly feel too thick.

            They sit in each other’s silence for a moment. Chanyeol’s mind can’t create anything but the image of Kyungsoo’s eyes, forced perpetually open with death.

            “You should come. I told Baekhyun and Minseok as well. You should come with me to the police station later today. We were Jongin’s closest friends. Kyungsoo’s mother is going to be there too and I think she’d like to see you.”

            “Yeah, yeah,” Chanyeol says faintly. “Yeah, I’ll… I want to see her… and Kyungsoo too. It’s just all happening so fast.”

            “Take it easy. Just stay at home. Try to think about something else.” Jongdae’s sentence trails off, as if he knows his own advice is as good as impossible. “I’ll text you the time, okay? See you soon.”

            “Okay,” Chanyeol says, and Jongdae hangs up. The sudden absence of his friend’s voice makes Chanyeol shiver.

                       His mother makes him hot cocoa, Chanyeol’s favorite childhood drink. He sits in his room, watching the sun move through the slats in his window shades, forgetting to blink for so long that it looks like a punctured orange egg yolk leaking out into the sky.

            Chanyeol already knows he’s going to have to get used to waiting. For answers, for results, for reports, for closure. It feels like he’s just started a new life where suddenly nothing is about him anymore. The stupid petty problems he had when things were normal feel like hazy dots in his distant memory. Just things he wasted time focusing on while Kyungsoo was dying every day, right before his eyes. So fucking selfish…

            Dying. The word rolls around in his brain, still so foreign. As much as he puts the name Kyungsoo and the word dead together, it doesn’t make any sense.

                Him and Baekhyun and Jongdae and Minseok… all of them left behind in some split-off parallel universe that wasn’t supposed to exist. Chanyeol feels his lids begin to grow heavy with the haze of confusion and hurt and he crumples into sleep, slumping against the door.

[bts-love-sweat-tears]

The one ring to bind them all, or just a solitary, cranky demon, part 5

Title: The one ring to bind them all (or just a solitary, cranky demon), part 5

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Type: fluff, angst, romance, demon!au, arranged marriage!au, royalty!au, gothic!au

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: literal emotional manipulation, mentions of previous injury, massive amounts of cheese, just a lot of interpersonal drama: jealous boyfriend.

Word Count: 2,435

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4

A/N: I’m sitting here drinking cherry blossom sake and feeling ashamed that it took me so long to post this- I meant to have it out on Halloween for spooky season. But instead I re-wrote it about 50000 times.  I’ve been feeling very soft lately, so this got a little more romantic/cheesy than I normally do! Also good luck resisting Jimin, who can literally manipulate emotions. P.S. The Southern Realm is inspired by Southern Spain (think Granada), and the Greek Isles (on my bucket list).  

There will definitely be part 6….eventually. I should really focus on gainful employment (sigh….the negative sides of capitalism).  Let’s hope the “Keep Reading cut and everything else works.  Send me feedback, comments, theories, whatever! I’m grateful for your patient support <3

Yoongi’s arms are secure around you, and his shoulders block out some of the blinding light. You struggle away from his grasp, awaiting the inevitable post-teleportation nausea. But either he was gentler this time, or your body is busy trying to stem the internal bleeding, because it never comes.

Instead of nausea, you were overwhelmed by the brightness around you. After the indeterminate (and seemingly interminable) time you spent in the Western Realms, the Southern realm was positively blinding in its beauty. Around you are blue-domed buildings, contrasted against pristine white walls. Though you have never seen the ocean, you had heard of its existence and can only presume that the glittering expanse you see between the gaps in the buildings must be it. The air smells salty, somehow, and if it weren’t for the pounding in your ribs you might have wondered more at the rhythmic sound of water, which you could only assume were waves.

But the pain forces you to narrow your focus to your more immediate surroundings. You are in some kind of terraced garden. There are fountains filled with tranquil, reflective water,  and palm trees swaying in a phantom breeze. The flowers are leafier and more exotic than you could have ever dreamed. A demon of shadows, Yoongi looks tired around the edges of his eyes, but otherwise is as imposing as ever.

Your presence does not go unnoticed, and a young looking boy stands from the chaise lounge where he had been idling. There are others there, but they are seemingly at his disposal, deferring to his every move. Based on this fact alone, you know he is someone important. When he gets up, there is something unmistakeably predatory in his smooth gait, something almost sexual, and you realize that you have just met your next demon prince-Jimin?You try to think back to the endless lessons with Hobi, but all your mind can handle at the moment is the sinister spreading warmth in your rib, Yoongi at your side, and the newcomer in front of you.

As he nears, you realize that his clothes are just as excessive as his garden. His shirt is almost sheer, spun from the finest threads you have ever seen, and his linen pants are immaculate. Combined with his bare feet and the thinnest of gold circlets peeking through his dark locks, the effect is something akin to the angels that had graced the large cathedrals you had been lucky to visit with your father.  But you knew from the same, sometimes gruesome, religious art, that angels were more than ethereal beauty and puffy feathers. They were heavenly warriors who could dispense eternal damnation or salvation with only minor inconvenience to themselves.

Jimin turned, eyes glittering. As you suspected, something lethal lingered behind his clear eyes. While you knew that logically you should be cautious, particularly after the reception you had received from Taehyung and Jungkook, all you could feel was warm waves of happiness as you stared into his gaze. Yoongi cleared his throat uncomfortably, but you simply couldn’t tear your eyes from Jimin’s. He moved closer.

Without much warning, he leaned over and placed his hands gently on your ribs. Yoongi’s hands were usually cold, the few times you had touched, but Jimin ran warmer. Still cool, but the faint lingering warmth of the first sunny day after a long and dreary winter. The longer his hands lingered, the more peaceful you felt.

If the garden hadn’t been so quiet, you would have likely missed Yoongi’s sharp intake of breath.

“I’m right here, Jimin. Could you tone it down?” He said, voice tinged with an aggressive edge that you’d heard only rarely.

“Prince Yoongi,” Jimin practically purrs, “do forgive me. It has been positively ages since I’ve encountered a human, let alone healed one- I’d rather be safe than sorry. Particularly with such a pretty patient.” He winked at you and you felt your cheeks warm.

Yoongi humphed, but Jimin ignored him, eyes studiously trained on your ribcage. Under normal circumstances, you would have likely been irritated by both his presumption and the fact that they were talking as though you weren’t even there. But as Jimin continued his ministrations, you felt yourself drift into a deep, peacefully silent sleep. Luckily, Yoongi was there to catch you as you fell.

You awoke to a solid presence at your back. Momentary panic set in, until you hear a familiar raspy voice. Goosebumps raise on your skin, though not entirely from chill.

“Just me, warmheart.”

You roll over slowly, careful not to damage your injured rib. Yoongi is there, eyes dark, but hair smooth. Calm, then, but watchful. You blush, despite months of cohabitation. Old habits die hard, as the saying goes. You think back to your conservative father, and then banish him as quickly as he came.

Yoongi smirks, and gently squeezes your hip in jest. It felt so natural that you hadn’t even noticed that it was there. As though he can read your mind, his voices your embarrassment.

“That’s what bothers you, warmheart? Someone fierce enough to take on the Western demons, and withstand Jimin’s empathy is embarrassed by sharing a bed with your fiancé?”

You smack him lightly. “Don’t say it like that!”

His grin widens. Sometimes, in these quiet moments, you’re in awe of the beautiful boy that resides in the centuries-old demon. You’re not sure if its luck or fate, but you thank whatever forces brought Yoongi into your life.

Yoongi’s face becomes serious. “I missed you, while you were gone. I waited centuries for you, yet only a few days apart was making me crazy.” Now it is his turn to blush, and suddenly you see the appeal of the blushy tropes from your (not-so) secret stash of courtly novels. You are brought back to the present by the grim thought of Yoongi’s displeasure, should he ever find out that you made such a comparison. You know that he would never hurt you, but certain tomes might go missing from the library. A fate truly worse than death.

His gaze can’t meet yours, but his arms have snaked around your back, pulling you closer. “Please don’t waiver in your feelings. I know Jimin is….tempting, but what we have is real.”

“You think me so weak-willed?” You can’t decide whether to be flattered or offended.

You raise your eyebrows but allow him to continue.  

“Jimin is an empath-a particularly rare and ancient kind of demon.” You say nothing, unfamiliar with the term, so Yoongi continues. “He has what humans would call charisma, but amplified. Not only can he read someone and understand their feelings, he can actually manipulate them, change them to suit his wishes.”

Your eyes widen slightly, though you’re still lethargic.  You wonder if you are witnessing Yoongi jealous for the first time in your blossoming relationship. Instead you ask simply,

“And how is that related to healing?”

“So much of pain is actually mental. In your case, your rib was damaged, but also hurting you was your perception of the pain. You’d have to ask him more-he’s explained it to me, but I never had the patience to understand his lectures. In any case, the mental and the physical are closely linked- he expended more power than was strictly necessary healing you, and I’m not sure what side effects there may be.”

You’re not sure what is making Yoongi so insecure, so you opt to act more boldly than you normally would. You snuggle closer, flush against his front. Your head tucks perfectly under his chin, and your nose rests close to his collarbone. His arms tighten around you and he stills, seemingly finally peaceful. He smells absolutely amazing- earthy but clean. A strange new hunger fills you, but you push it back. Under your ear, you can hear his heartbeat.

Lightening the mood, you crack a joke. “And humans think demons don’t have hearts.”

He scoffs at that, a welcome sound. “Yeah, now if only mine would quit running off and getting into trouble.” You’re grateful once again for the darkness, lest he see how red your face and ears are at the moment. Who knew that he was such an insufferable flirt?

Not trusting your voice you lapse back into silence. Yoongi’s breathing is even and calming. Ever since Jimin’s ministrations the pain in your side has subsided considerably. You can still feel it if you stretch or lean into it, but otherwise it’s hard to believe that Jungkook punched you only this morning. It feels like a million years ago. You ponder the passage of time as you slowly but surely drift off to sleep, tucked up against Yoongi. It feels right,and you have no dreams.

You awake with a start, the moon blindingly bright outside of your window. Really, here, there seems to be very little distinction between outside and inside, and there is no glass separating you from the enticing night-time view. Suddenly restless, you get up, sure not to disturb Yoongi, who is sleeping like the dead, the silent rise and fall of his chest the only thing letting you know that he still lives. You don’t know if he is exhausted from the day or if he is alway like this-it occurs to you that this is the first time you have ever seen him sleeping. In the human world, the two of you had stayed awake at night, getting to know each other. In his house, you had your own wing, though you spent your days together. It’s strange to you how short a period the two of you have known each other, but what scares you more is how quickly his life has become inextricably tied to your own. Realizing that these thoughts won’t allow you any more sleep, you venture into the garden.

The water babbles softly, like something out of a fairytale, but otherwise the terrace is still and silent. The activity of the servants has subsided, as any sane person is asleep. The moon is shining bright enough to illuminate at least a basic outline of most of the garden, and you contemplate whether this can possibly be the same moon from back home. Through the gap in the nearby buildings, you can see the ocean in the distance. You had noticed it earlier, but had been more concerned about your loss of blood. You stare at the diamonds the moon paints in the ripples of the water as it laps the shore somewhere out of sight. It is hypnotizing, and you have no idea how long you’d been staring before you noticed Jimin at your side.

In the darkness, he is little more than a wispy outline, despite the moon. You chalk it up to his flowy apparel, the same thing he was wearing this morning. Seemingly, wrinkles are not something that afflict Prince Jimin. Likely, they are not even a word in his vocabulary,you think wryly to yourself.  His eyes slide over to you, and you stop yourself from staring at his immaculate profile.

“What amuses you, little human?” His voice is like a whisper of the softest silk. Despite Yoongi’s early warning about manipulation, you can’t find it in yourself to be scared of this gentle soul.

“Just wondering how you keep your clothes so neat” you say, smile curving the edges of your mouth upward. His gaze lingers there.

“Suddenly, I understand my brethren’s fascination with humans,” he chuckles, gaze never leaving your own. “Pray tell, is this something you concern yourself with every new person you meet? Have I violated some unspoken human etiquette?”

You blush slightly, and he chuckles again. It is melodic-really, there is no other word for it. “Not at all. It just seems unlikely to end the day in the same state that you started it in.”

He smiles again, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. For the briefest of moments, your heart patters erratically, before resuming its original beat.

“What an entirely human viewpoint. Your lives are short-the blink of an eye, a sunrise and sunset, a turn around the sun. We live forever and are unchanging. We exist, as though in suspended animation: change so slow, we barely notice as we turn to stone.”

He’s clearly speaking in a riddle, and before you can guess as to which famed scholar he might be citing, he continues.

“Which is why, little human, I would like to try something-to assuage my endless boredom.” You wait, wondering what ridiculous test he might have in mind, thinking back to your time with Tae and Kookie -not that you would call him that to his face.

He moves closer, placing his warm palms on either side of your face. His gaze meets your own, and you blush again. You don’t look away, but nor do you move. You expect heart palpitations, nerves, a nervous stutter-all things you’ve experienced at one point or another with Yoongi, but you feel: nothing.

Prince Jimin’s gaze grows more fierce, his hands heavier on your cheeks, and you continue to wait.

“How entirely interesting, and infuriating.”

Suddenly, he is gone, and you are standing in the garden, even more perplexed than when  you’d been listening to his earlier imagery. You turn, eager to return to sleepy Yoongi’s comforting embrace-something sane in the insanity that is the demon world.

But he is already there, across the terrace, eyes alert and glittering.

“What are you doing awake?” You ask, and you hear the guilt in your words as you speak them.

“I could ask you the same,” he says, voice low and menacing. “Did I NOT just finish warning you about what he could do? And here you are……subjecting yourself to it like some kind of perverse experiment?” His words are biting.

“Yoongi, why are you so angry? Literally nothing happened. I woke up because I couldn’t sleep, and he appeared a while later,” you say soothingly, trying to placate him.

“Well, maybe he can’t hurt you, but you can certainly hurt me,” he said, sounding exhausted once again. “Do you know how scared I was when I woke up again and you were gone, after being severely injured earlier today? And then I come out here and find you two staring each other down, his hands on your face?” He runs his hands over his face, before promptly turning and stalking off.

You stand there, stunned, and then it hits you….. Was Yoongi jealous?

[kingkadence]

Aaa I had someone ask me the same question and I realized after reading people's posts that being 'anti' about a ship is different than just not liking a ship, 'anti' means you think its morally reprehensible or something and 'antis' are known for judging and attacking people over ships. I was using the anti label up until about a month ago but dropped it as soon as I figured that out. I guess the term for just not liking a ship is notp?

Here! Is basic guide to not liking a ship (all my opinions based on what I’ve read, y’all r free to think what you’d like)

Lvl 1 - “disliking a ship”

You see content for a ship, might make you uncomfortable or put you in a bad mood. Maybe you don’t have a particular reason, you may just not be fond of it. Or hey! Maybe you just never thought of the characters seeing each other that way. Most of the time you see it, it’s new, it’s foreign, and you just never imagined them together. With this, it’s common that after a while of exposure you might even like it after a while! Or even just have a neutral opinion. Ur dislike isn’t too serious, you don’t talk about it unless someone brings it up, you’ll scroll, you mind ya own.

Lvl 2 - notp

You see it and it makes you… hhhh internally. If someone posts this you might scroll or even go as far as muting posts or unfollowing. The ship described in one word for u is just “No.” for whatever reason it may be. It might be because you don’t like the character the other is paired with, you might think that the fan base behind the ship is gross, you might just hate both character but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who knows. Your resentment goes deep, and if you see someone post this kind of stuff, you will surely avoid it. You’ll go on a rant on how much you hate it if someone brings it up, not one that’s offensive, you’re just passionate with the hate you have for this ship. You might make bash edits or amvs of them. If a mutual posts this ship, you may grumble, you might say “I don’t ship this but the content is nice” ((heads up pls don’t do that it’s annoying and destructive to content creators))

Lvl 3 - ship hate

Definitely hitting a radical status but not there yet. It’s toxic, let’s just put it that way. You may not like the ship because it gets in the way of your otp, to you it may seemed forced in canon writing, you may even go as far as to say the ship is abusive, who knows it might be, but harassing other ppl over it,, isn’t abusive behaviour??? Lol ok. Anyway, you may have an account dedicated to how much you don’t like it, you will bring it up to people constantly to the point where others might say hey,,,, chill dude. You are VERY active in the discourse tag, you are sure to write your own opinions, very passionate, but very pushy. You may even comment on ships saying “ew gross, x ship for life!!” and you probably got into a fight in the comments at least once. You see an account post it, you block them. A mutual? You are VERY tempted to unfollow, if you haven’t already.

Lvl 4 - anti

This,,,, just oof,, you think the ship is LEGALLY an issue, very morally wrong or you just fucking hate the hell out of it bc it gets in the way of your ship and you’re grasping at straws to say why it’s toxic. (I actually was internally an anti for a while when I was like idk 14, suffered bhad from these symptoms, fun fact) you will go out of your way to voice your opinion, you will purposely message people telling them they’re disgusting calling them names, not even really justifying why it’s bad?? Telling ppl they’re fucked up……… doesn’t let ppl know why they’re fucked up but I mean go off. Anyway, you DEFINITELY have thought about running a hate account, you post other people’s art and content without crediting them, and proceed to hate on the content. Whenever the fandom is brought up you cannot CONTAIN your hatred for whatever discourse is going on. Let’s face it whatever resentment u got, it’s MUCH more chaotic than the love you have for your ship. Just down right negative all around. Explosive, unstable, if you don’t harass the people in the fandom, making them unsafe. (ie: sending gore pictures, death threats, making them and their followers WILDLY uncomfortable) you send it to the creators! You threaten the lives of people who make the show, you are disruptive, and literally have no personal boundaries, and you don’t give a shit about the writing, the plot, the developing of characters. You want your ship, or rather, you DON’T want other ships. To the point where human lives clearly don’t,,, matter to you????????? But cartoon ones do are you GOOD

(Imma do this one bc sometimes it’s okay to not like a ship!)

BONUS LVL - activist shipper

You don’t like this ship because it’s ACTUALLY hurtful and not because a ship is getting in the way (*ncest, p*dophillia, genuine abuse between these characters in canon etc) commonly antis will think they’re apart of this group, or this group will think they’re antis. Nnnno!pe! It is TOTALLY ok to dislike/hate these ships and think it’s insensitive to post things like this that may actually hurt people. I’m not gonna SAY which ships but if you’re shipping a 25 year old with a 10 year old,,,,,,,, u rlly gotta think,, about ur moral compass. ESPECIALLY if you’re sexualizing kids in your content. These people are commonly in discourse, but they voice why it’s bad, they voice their opinions RESPECTFULLY. Because AS SOON as you tell someone to die ur rlly pushing it. These people are here to educate, they’re not here to hurt. They want people to learn and grow and know what’s harmful and what’s not. They might get into an argument, nothing might change, but they’re happy knowing that they’re fighting for people who have been hurt bc of these topics and they’re not comfortable being silent about it.

-

Let me tell you, it’s ay okay to dislike and hate a ship. But don’t let it consume you, just like how you shouldn’t let ur otp consume you?? And if you see GENUINE bad happening in a fandom don’t be afraid to speak up, but be MINDFUL, RESPECTFUL, AND EMPATHETIC!! I am not on board with some of the ships ppl post but telling someone to die isn’t gonna help them learn what they’re doing is wrong. And if you don’t think you can PROPERLY TELL SOMEONE hey this content is hurtful, maybe,,,,,,, get someone else to do it,,,,,,, bc ur literally being just as harmful.

((Also while I’m on my soap box stop shipping abusive wlw/mlm JUST because they’re gay,,, that’s xtremely fetishy,, and as a gay guy I don’t approve :/))

Anyway, take this or leave this, just what I think

[trexrambling]

Used to This - Part IV

Overview: You’ve lived with the Winchesters for years as a fellow hunter, and everyone has always stayed well in the friend zone. What happens when nightmares come haunting and Dean offers to help? Will things change, or is it all in your head?

Characters: Dean, Reader, a smidgen of Sam

Word Count: 1,638

Warnings: injury with lots of blood, mild language, some snark, some fluff, some questioning of coffee stipulations

A/N: There should only be one more part to go... But my brain sometimes scraps those plans. Thanks for all the love you guys have shown me for this :)

Beta’d by: @wheresthekillswitch - “I freaking love all of this fic but especially this part.” <-- you guys should guess which section she meant

Also beta’d by: @hannahindie - “the patented 'voice raises three octaves when a Winchester drops trou three feet away from you'.”

Read: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

“Dean, let me carry her so you can-”

“I’ve got her, Sam.”

“Look, you should-”

“I said I’ve got her.”

“How is she?”

“Just keep driving.”

“She’s losing a lot of blood. Why aren’t we going to the hospital, Dean?”

“Because if she lives through this she’ll kill me for taking her there.”

“I care about her, too. She’s family. Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Sam, just drive.”

“Don’t you dare leave me. You hear me, Y/N? Don’t you dare. Sam would never let me hear the end of it. And you still owe me ten dollars from that bet in Wyoming. So… just keep breathing, okay? You’re still here. I’ve got you.”

I woke up screaming, my hands flying up to tear away the blinding pain and sharp jabs from the base of my skull. Strong hands grabbed my wrists, pulled them to my front and trapped them within a single hand’s grasp while the other pushed my hips down firmly to fight against my thrashing. Another set of hands were on the side of my neck, my left temple, efficiently keeping my head still. I felt trapped, felt the tears spill over as I tried to move away again.

“Y/N! It’s Dean. It’s just me and Sam. Hey, look at me.”

My eyes were swollen and heavy as I opened them, squinting in the too bright light and aimlessly flickering as they searched for something to focus on. I found a dark red stain on the fabric in front of me and stared at it until its edges lost their fuzziness. I was lying on my side, on a bed, and as more and more red spots came into focus I realized what they were. That’s my blood. That’s a lot of my blood.

My eyes traveled to my confined wrists, recognizing the silver ring and strong fingers holding me still. I felt the bed dip beside me, and flannel and green blocked out the bloodstains. Dean’s head came to rest on the mattress, his nose inches from mine. He kept a steady grip on my wrists as he drew my hands to his chest. His other hand continued to push my waist down, but as he felt me grow still his thumb gently rubbed soothing circles against the exposed skin on my upper hip.

“We’ve got to stitch you up so the bleeding will stop,” Dean stated matter of factly. His calm tone helped offset my panic.

I swallowed deeply, the pain in my cranium unrelenting in its attack on my nervous system. “How bad is it?” I croaked out.

Dean slowly let go of my wrists and reached up to brush some stray hair from my face. “Well, bad enough that you’ll need a new blanket for your bed. Unless you like abstract blood art.”

I sniffed. “I just bought this bedspread.”

Dean’s thumb moved to wipe the tears off my cheeks. “I know.” He looked past me. “Ready, Sam?”

“Yeah. You’ll have to hold her still. It’s deep.”

Sam’s hands slid off my neck and temple, and I felt a tug as he pulled the thread tight through my skin. My legs twitched, and I hissed in pain. My fingers found Dean’s flannel and clutched the fabric tightly.

“Just breathe, Y/N,” Dean said gently. His legs wrapped around mine, trapping them in place. His right hand stayed on my waist while his left came up and behind my head. His fingers rested just above the tip of my ear, and he cradled my head firmly against the crook of his arm so my cheek was resting on his bicep.

“You got her?” Sam asked. I could feel his breath on my neck as he got close to keep stitching.

“Yeah, I’ve got her,” Dean replied. He looked at me then. “I really hope you pass out.”

“Gee, thanks,” I wheezed out, “If I die, all my money goes to Sam, especially that ten dollars.”

Dean smiled at me, and for a second I only felt warmth.

And then the needle hit my raw skin.

I did my best to hold still, but the overwhelming pain sent spasms throughout my muscles. I felt Dean’s grip grow tighter and tighter, heard him talking to me without really understanding what he was saying. I tried to focus on his voice as my limbs trembled against my own will.

And then, true to Dean’s wishes, everything went black again.

Fire.

It started at the back of my head and pulsed pain throughout my skull, down my neck, fading out in a steady ache along my shoulders.

I groaned and brought a shaky hand up to gingerly trace the gauze I found securely taped to my head and upper neck. I felt the lumpy line where Sam had managed to piece my skin back together, as well as a lack of what should have been hair bumps. In fact, aside from my soon to be scar, it felt pretty smooth under the bandage.

“Oh hey, you’re awake,” Dean greeted me, leaning forward in the chair he’d placed beside the bed. He reached out to place two fingers along the underside of my jaw. I stiffened at the contact.

“Are you checking my pulse?”

“Yep.”

My eyes rolled and took in my surroundings in the process. “Is this your room?”

“Also yes,” Dean answered, pulling his hand away. “Your bed could have fed a vampire by the time Sam finished stitching you up.”

My fingers sought the bandage again, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did you… did you guys shave part of my hair off?”

Dean’s facial features froze in a lopsided smile. He leaned back slightly. “Um… yeah. Yes. That might have happened.”

“Dude, what the hell?!” I snapped, moving to sit up and immediately plopping back down at the wave of dizziness that swept through my system. I scrunched my eyes shut and moaned into the pillow, “Just because Sam won’t let you cut his hair doesn’t mean that mine is fair game.”

Dean chuckled softly. “We only shaved off what we needed to. It was either that or let you bleed out.”

“The latter, please and thank you.”

“I never took you for the beauty queen type, Y/N.”

“S’not that,” I growled at him, “everything just hurts. I feel like pudding with nerve endings.”

I opened my eyes to see Dean looking at me, concern narrowing his eyes. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. A small smirk turned up one corner of his mouth, “Maybe some coffee?”

“Oh, you’re funny.”

“I’m hilarious.”

I rolled my eyes again. “I really just want to sleep.”

Dean tapped his forehead. “Head injury, remember? Sam said to wake you up every hour, just to be safe.”

“Well that’s just great,” I groaned.

“Well, you could be dead, so there’s that.”

“You can take that insightful optimism and shove it straight up your-”

“Hey.”

Dean’s hand touched my shoulder, sending a different form of fire shooting through my arm. I looked at him closely for the first time. He was still in his hunting clothes, dark bloodstains coating his sleeves and dotting his jeans. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair askew from where he’d obviously been running his hands through it. He looked more tired than I’d seen him in months.

“Have you slept at all?” I whispered.

He smiled slightly. “Worried about me, Y/LN?”

I met his gaze. “Yes. You look like hell.”

Dean’s hand slid off my shoulder, traced a route down my arm, and stopped at my hand before lightly curling his fingers around mine. He stared at our hands as he gently rubbed the back of mine with his thumb, and I watched as his brain broke down all the thoughts he had stored in it.

He looked at me again. “For a second there I thought I was going to have to burn another friend’s body.”

I squeezed his fingers as best I could, not really sure what to say.

He was quiet for a moment before he continued. “So you heard the part about the ten dollars, huh?”

“It’s a vague memory.”

“Hear anything else?”

I smiled. “Besides threats to my life if I died, not really.” I saw relief flash across his face, and my curiosity was instantly piqued. “Why? What’d I miss?”

Dean squeezed my hand before sliding his fingers away. “Just Sam comparing hair lengths with you while we shaved it all off.”

I scowled. “If I could move without passing out I would punch you, Winchester.”

“Well, thank goodness for major head trauma then.” He stood and started to strip off his clothes, dropping his bloodstained flannel on the ground before quickly shimmying out of his jeans.

My eyes went wide. “Whatcha doing?” It came out as a squeak. I blamed the head injury for my vocal cord incompetency.

“I thought you wanted to sleep?”

“Well yeah, but-”

“And you’re in my bed.”

“I mean you moved me here so-”

“And someone has to wake you up every hour.”

“But Sam isn’t a doctor so how do we know-”

“Y/N.”

I snapped my mouth closed.

It’s just coffee, I told my brain.

Dean pulled back the covers on the empty side of the bed.

It’s just Dean.

I felt him crawl in beside me, his warmth already trickling to my side despite him keeping his distance.

It doesn’t mean anything.

The light clicked off, and I heard him sigh as he settled all the way into the bed.

It’s just-

An arm wrapped around my waist.

It doesn’t-

Dean’s lips ghosted along the edge of the bandage on my neck.

...mean…

His legs found mine.

...anything.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Talk to you in an hour.”

-Read Part 5-

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Used to This tags: @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @plaidstiel-wormstache @xninastoffels @superwholock1983 @earthtokace @shhhs3cret @night-thinker-23 @rachel68928 @ashleydivine @fanfreak07 @mariazintili @yer-a-wizerd-hrry @fallen-castiel @emmazach @spnfangirl1965 @sujuvixxo @missmischiefmanagement

Dean tag list: @akshi8278 @kathaswings @rockgoddean @carribear31 @daydreamingintheimpala @brindz30 @green-eyed-hunters

Tumblr is a twat waffle and won’t let me tag a LOT of you... Rawr... If it was me messing up your URL let me know and I’ll fix that shiz.

[cyberkevvideo]

Throne of Night - New Special Material: Gunzarak (True Mithral)

In Book 2, the (unfortunately) last published book for Throne of Night, we were introduced to the concept of “true mithral”, also known as gunzarak. It was a special processing of mithral that allowed you it to mimic some of the properties of adamantine. We even got a really interesting weapon in the form of an axe. We were also given a minimal amount of lore that this style of processing was a closely guarded secret to a specific clan of dwarves, and that its secret had long been lost over time.

Sadly, that’s all we got. It can be assumed that in Book 3, where we see the party finally find the lost dwarven city, that we would get either a sidebar or even an appendix that explained what true mithral was, and its pricing for armor and weapons. Sadly, this would not be the case. At least as of today’s entry.

Today, I’m going to give you my rundown on how I would have released it. I would like to say that I did not come about these numbers willy-nilly. I contacted some friends and acquaintances from the table top industry, who far more adept and knowledgeable at this kind of thing than I (not to mention decade long veterans) , and had them give me their opinions, then I went marketed it to more than a half-dozen players to get their take on it.

As always, for space reasons, I’ll be cropping the encounter build.

All images shared here were done by the forever fantastic and amazingly talented Michael D. Clarke, aka SpiralMagus

I do not have a Patreon or a Kickstarter, but I do have a Ko-Fi  page (linked) for those who are looking to support me monetarily. There is no pressure  or obligation to do so.

Finally, before I get to it, I hope everyone’s  staying safe right now.

Deep within the Zaraketh Mine, after solving a dwarven puzzle, what appears to be a mithral greataxe can be found by the party. To their astonishment, it’s actually an axe made of a new special material, gunzarak.

The provided lore says: But for all the dark elves’ skill in working this strange metal, it was in the forges of Dammerhall that the dwarves learned the secret of elevating mithral to its full potential. They could create an alloy that was lighter than aluminum, stronger than adamantine, as perfect a metal as this world has ever known. This was gunzarak (in dwarvish lit. the true gift of the earth) or “true mithral”. Even the drow had never seen its equal and it was Dammerhall’s gift to the world. Even today, centuries after the last sword of true mithral was forged, many a dynasty counts among its greatest heirlooms these dwarven blades and armors.The secret of making ‘true mithral’ was lost with the fall of Dammerhall. The dwarves too jealously guarded their secret and when calamity fell, the secret was lost. Perhaps there will never again come forth a smith capable of making gunzarak. Perhaps this jewel of dwarven lore is forever beyond the kin of mortals.

As written, the magic axe reads as thus:

The Axe of Horath Rocknose Aura moderate conjuration and transmutation; CL 10th Slot --; Price 27,320 gp; Weight 6 lbs. DESCRIPTION This is a +1 keen dragon-bane greataxe made of gunzarak (true mithral). It counts as both being made of adamantine while possessing the weight reduction of mithral. For the purpose of damage reduction it is considered as both an adamantine, silver and magic weapon. CONSTRUCTION Requirements Craft Arms and Armor, creator must know the secret of working true mithral, keen edge summon monster I; Cost 13,660 gp

Given its stats, it’s obvious that this was to be a major boon in Book 3. It can also be assumed that if the axe is shown to the stone golem blocking the secret passageway to Dammerhall, that’s part of the key needed for bypassing the guardian.

From a designer stance, this item has a few issues in the math and wording, but that’s okay. What’s important is that you can still discern its capabilities and what the author was trying to convey when he made it.

With what’s provided, and a little reverse engineering, we are able to deduce that, theoretically, gunzarak is worth 775 gp/lb. This is a little more than 1.5x what mithral costs (500 gp/lb.). That sounds reasonable enough.

Over the past month, I’ve had multiple discussions with some fellow game designers, as well as a bunch of players that I know. The reason being is designing special materials is a balancing act that many aren’t very good at. The conversations went from “treat this like a magic item and make the lowest cost be 1.5x the price and add the highest base, or at least add an additional percentage to the total price” to “adamantine in Pathfinder 1e and 3.5 was overpriced, so unless that gets fixed, you won’t get a proper price for this material.” What was also mentioned was that it was nice that this replicated both mithral and adamantine as a whole, like a magic item, what was special about it? What made it its own material that people would covet? Sure it was both mithral and adamantine, but you could find magic items that would made things better and cheaper, or even psionic powers or spells that could do it better, for cheaper, and not have any sort of weaknesses short of being dispelable. “True silver”, another special material (from Paizo), is processed to the point it was immune to rusting effects, so why wouldn’t true mithral have something similar, if not exactly the same? Again, all valid arguments.

In the end, after all the conversations had completed, this ended up being the final numbers and abilities. As such, I’d recommend the additional property be added to the axe in Book 2.

Gunzarak (True Mithral) Mithral that's been masterfully refined and processed, making it lighter than aluminum and stronger than adamantine. Armor: Heavy and medium armor are treated as one category lighter. ACP is reduced by 3 (to a minimum of 0), Dex bonus is increased by 2, and ASF is reduced by 10%. Grants untyped damage reduction 1/— (light), 2/— (medium), 3/— (heavy) Weapons: Ignore hardness of less than 20. Considered adamantine and silver with regards to bypassing DR. Special: Always considered masterwork. Immune to rusting effects. Hardness 20; Hit Points 30 per inch Armor Costs: Light (+6,000 gp), Medium (+15,000 gp), Heavy (+22,000 gp) Weapons and other items: 775 gp/lb.

It shouldn’t need explanation, but just in case, “rusting effects” include that of rusting monsters and the rusting grasp spell. Also, true mithral isn’t adamantine, even if it counts as such, so it won’t have the same ‘hit points per inch’.

I know that some people are going to argue that it’s way too cheap, but it’s honestly not. Adamantine is way too overpriced, and you fail a single save against a rusting effect and that PC is out their armor. Not to mention, given any other price point, you’re better off taking mithral armor and wearing a belt of Con for the additional hit points or something that can regenerate your heal in some way. Anything else would just be considered a waste of money. I know, the players I talked to schooled me pretty hard in that regard, and broke down the math. Not to mention, if you allow 3PP products in home games, a psychic warrior with the biofeedback power has DR 2/— for 1 minute/level, and can augment that to make it even higher. If you can turn that same power into a permanent magic item, it costs 8,000 gp to buy, but only 4,000 gp to make. It’s about being practical with your money at higher level, and crafting items takes a long time when it’s in the high, high thousands.

That said, if you feel it should be significantly higher, like say: Light armor +6,500; Medium +16,000; and Heavy +28,500 gp, which were the original prices I was suggested to go with, then so be it, but don’t be surprised if the party tries to sell the items for something cheaper and more practical, and bank the rest of the gold. Even more so if they’re playing with the kind of GM who is very strict about the wealth table, and being even 1 gold piece over it means you’re “broken” and no longer allowed an allowance until such time that you become high enough level to earn gold again. And, yes, those GMs absolutely exist, and players take that into consideration when it comes to their purchases. I will mention that my original prices were actually lower (14k and 20k for medium and heavy), but I was quickly talked out of it.

Again, this is what the decision came to be after multiple conversations with fellow TTRPG game designers (most having previously worked for Paizo) and players who’ve all played in very confining and restricted wealth games. In the end, we were all able to walk away happy. I have absolutely no idea how much Gary originally intended this material to cost, and I’m more than curious, but he had connections with Paizo as well (namely the director and lead designer, Jason Bulmahn), so it’s possible that our numbers aren’t all that different.

Segway: For anyone curious what a more practical cost for adamantine would be, Purple Duck Games published it as 750 gp for light weapons, 1500 gp for one-handed, and 3000 gp for two-handed. Armor was 4000, 8000, and 12000, respectfully. When it came to gunzarak, it was quoted as likely being 6000, 12000, and 18000 for the different armors. Weapons would probably start at 800 gp, to make it more of a round number, and different from adamantine. Mithral was also dropped to 350 gp for light weapons, 700 for one-handed, and 1400 for two-handed. Armor was 1000, 2000, and 3000. It sounds cheap, but the new Pathfinder 1.5 system they developed removed arcane spell failure.

Getting back to the original subject though, in Book 3, the party was supposed to discover the art of how to process the mithral, and I would bet that like in Book 2, the axe the PCs find is a key to a safe or another puzzle, that has that exact formula for how they’d do it. As to what that process is, I’ll leave it up to the GM. Their game, their rules. They would know best how it should be done in their own home games in their own home world.

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

With that, the “Throne of Night” AP is complete. At least for now. All the known monsters have been identified and given stats (or linked to stats), the gunzarak is fleshed out a little more, an alternate race (that we should have seen in Book 3) was provided, a couple of extra monsters were added for additional encounters, more items were designed or showcased, and Mike’s fantastic art was shown off. Not to mention an entire AD&D adventure converted to Pathfinder 1e to help anyone finish their game without having to rely on books that don’t exist, and still give the AP some sense of finality. If there’s any more than that, I’ll do them as they come by may. At the very least, there’s more than enough to do your own game and give it a respectful ending.

If anything more if required, I made a resource page and posted a link on the Paizo forum for everyone to access. It has all of the relevant posts, additional adventures that could be used, suggestions and ideas from other GMs who homebrewed the rest of their own game, etc. A treasure trove of information for anyone needing it.

I thank everyone for coming with me on this journey.

[n64josh]

Winter Play 2020 Impressions

Hands-on with Indies at Winter Play NYC

It’s not always about the big shows. One of the (often overlooked) pleasures to be found in gaming (when the world is not in quarantine) are the local events featuring indie developers and their creations. While many of these are geared towards the developer community, others, such as Playcrafting’s Winter Play NYC Game Expo, are open to the public and offer the opportunity for players of all ages to get hands-on with video, card and tabletop games from a variety of individuals and teams.

The event, which was held at the Microsoft Technology Center in Times Square early last month, gave me a chance to preview games ranging from Switch-bound multiplayer titles to ones that began as projects from this year’s Global Game Jam and everything in between. And while I didn’t have time to play every game appearing at the expo, I did want to share some impressions of the titles that may be of interest to the Nintendo player- and a few more that further convey the nature of the event.

Kung-Fu Kickball

Blowfish Studios

Everybody was Kung-Fu fightin’! One of the first Switch games I had the chance to try out at Winter Play throws- er, uh, kicks a mash-up of kickball, basketball & Kung-Fu archetypes through the lens of local multiplayer frenzy reminiscent of Smash Bros & Killer Queen Black. In fact, the game’s primary developer, Jonah, mentioned that he was approached by a company to make a physical arcade machine- and that cabinet now stands next to one for Killer Queen Black.

I had a chance to enjoy a couple of rounds- but, then, who wouldn’t have fun playing as an old master kickin’ people around inside a volcano?

Teams of two players face off on large stages attempting to kick the ball up into the opponent’s goal net, using their kung-fury to slow down other players, steal the ball or block shots. A clever teleport dash mechanic, once mastered, helps rapidly navigate back and forth across the court and get ahead of the ball.

Characters have a bit of a floaty feel to them, but in a good way. It helps keep the action frantic and moving while also allowing players to misjudge the angle of a sudden redirection. Those openings can lead to break away moments from the kung-fu hustle and bustle.

It admittedly took me a round to really grasp the controls, through no fault of the game itself. Once I got the hang of the teleport dash and how to kick the ball up into the goal basket, I was quickly kicking the ball free of my opponents and teleporting past them to catch up to it and bring it into the goal area. My efforts were often foiled by static, pinball-like platform placements but I, nonetheless, had a blast leading to my losing-er, uh, unvictorious streak and I’m confident a few more rounds would lead to overcoming those challenges.

Following my less-than-impressive kung-fu career debut, the next group after me was a family with both adults and young children and all four had a good time with energetic enthusiasm during their matches, which bodes well for this title’s family gaming prospects.

After three years of development by primarily one person (with the art and audio contracted out), Kung-Fu Kickball should be hitting the Switch sometime this year.

  Swim Sanity

Decoy Games

One of the last titles I had the opportunity to try out at the event also gave me some Killer Queen Black multiplayer vibes at first glance, but this underwater competitive adventure/shooter hybrid quickly drowned those comparisons.

Up to four players navigate a side-scrolling arena or stage, shooting down various creatures of the sea with primary and secondary weapons while charging a Smash-like meter that can unleash different special “swimsanity” abilities selected prior to the start of the stage. These swimsanities range from transforming into a shark that can dash attack horizontally across the screen to a piranha that lets you go Pac-Man on hostile soon-to-be-sushi. The different abilities help customize team configurations for co-op play and add variety to competitive rounds.

I first played a horde mode that reminded me a little of an underwater (non-Super) Mario Bros. stage, with various waves of critters emerging onto the level. It made for good targeting practice and a chance to acclimate to the controls.

After that, I swam next door to a second room where the developers had the adventure mode set up and it was here that you really started to realize that the game was meatier than just another single-screen, multiplayer versus game. We played a couple of levels- both featuring our team of four fleeing from a giant threat pursuing us from the left of the screen as we swam through levels, collecting weapons and treasure. The first was a giant killer whale, while the second was a sort of crab tank. Turns out, that apparent safe spot above the chest laser cannon by the crab’s eyes? Not so safe when the crab tank also has laser eyes.

The title’s journey began over a decade ago as a student project inspired by the Game and Watch Gallery game Octopus. Now, after many iterations over the years, it is anticipating a Switch release in 2020.

  Slapdash

Tarraske Digital

Combining the rapid, angular redirects of Pinball and obstructed goals of Nok Hockey with the team play of an arcade soccer game (and then throwing cats in for good measure), Slapdash is another promising local co-op title that I’m now looking forward to getting my mittens on.

It made me recall the feel of some of the multiplayer party/mini games found in the Super Monkey Ball series, such as Monkey Fight or Monkey Billiards, with ball-shaped cat players ricocheting a ball (and themselves) back and forth across the playing field trying to score points behind the opponent’s goal wall.

While still in the process of refining its visuals (the white face patterns of the different cats currently all tend to blend together, making it very easy to lose track of which player is yours), the gameplay itself is simple, addictive and fun.

Slapdash is aiming for an eventual release on consoles, but no platforms have been officially announced yet.

  Antipole DX

Saturnine Games

Mega Man-inspired gameplay with an added gravity reversal mechanic? That’s something firmly in my wheelhouse. This remake of the original DSi game features new graphics, sound, music & levels with refinements to the overall gameplay.

The juggling of both your character and enemies with the gravity mechanic is implemented in some tight platforming puzzles and obstacles. The action will definitely scratch an itch for players eager for a game in this genre beyond the Mega Man and Gunvolt series.

While originally announced for 2016 on the Wii U and 3DS (and even included among the 2016 Nindies Summer Jam highlight reel), those versions were never released, despite the game being made with the 3DS in mind. And though a Switch port has become unlikely at this point, players who have been following the game’s development over the past few years can look forward to finally playing it on Steam, PS4 and Xbox One in 2020.

  Lo-Fi Samurai

Pure-238

One of the more unique titles I played was this stylish game that combined rhythmic combat with real-time platforming. You move freely but can only dash or attack enemies to the rhythm beat pattern tracking across the top of the screen. All set against gorgeous retro visuals that are at least partially inspired by Samurai Jack.

I played one of the levels and watched other people play a couple more. It turned out that I am, apparently, really terrible at rhythm games- and it was definitely at no fault to the game’s controls. I found myself trying to overcompensate for missed timings or attempting to spam an attack out of platformer habit, only to extend my cooldown punishment and leading to my inevitable demise. The developer recommended everyone playing play the game with headphones on as the actual music beat helps the player focus on, and attune to, that facet of the game play. I guess I just needed to attune longer.

Despite this newly discovered rhythmic deficiency in my gaming abilities, I found the combination of genres and mechanics really interesting and the overall project to have a lot of promise. It may not have any platform releases scheduled yet, but I think players will want to keep their eye open for it in the event that it achieves one.

  Repear

Fruits & Veggies Games

A Global Game Jam project from this year providing a cute, simple 2D, split-screen, co-op platformer experience. Players must try to reach one another through a series of puzzles solved through triggers on the other player’s screen. By working together they can achieve that goal.

Though intended for 2 players, I actually got a chance to play it by myself, controlling both characters. As I’m a sucker for dual-screen-type experiences, the added level of challenge involved actually enhanced the experience considerably. The game also has some really beautiful music by Axel Kazis-Taylor that might take you off guard. It goes a long way to show the level of talent and creativity that can emerge for even relatively simple projects mostly made over a single weekend (and less than a month of polish).

  Chromavaders

Corundum Games

A fun, retro-NES-styled match-3 puzzle game combined with a Space Invaders-style enemy advancement. It may seem pretty straight forward but the block catching/building mechanic provides some interesting variety to strategies you can employ to play it.

You can play it for yourself on the game’s website.

  Hidden Tunes

Rafael Rodriguez

Navigate across all the spaces of an isometric world by queueing up your movements. The paths you take produce tones. Eventually, you can discover the melody needed to progress. A solid foundation for a musical puzzle game that I could see having a place on platforms like the Switch. No word on a release for this project, yet.

  Radarjam

Hamra Digital

A game in the spirit of Asteroids, but one where the enemies and incoming fire are only seen periodically. I found myself pulling off a lot of aerial drifting and circle-strafing attack patterns, which ended up being pretty fun and helped distinguish the feel of the game from its more familiar progenitor.

  Run & Gun

MHarris Games

The Tron-like aesthetic used by this multiplayer, arena shooter lends it an instant visual appeal. A wall run mechanic helps add some variety that you might not anticipate with a retro-styled shooter like this. Has potential as a fun testbed as the project evolves. Downloadable from the game’s website, where you can also follow its development as future builds are released.

  PathFinder Pro

Peter Trivelli

This physics-based puzzle game has you navigating a ball towards contact with a goal by laying down a path piece of piece. Simple in premise but deceptively challenging. The gameplay could easily become addictive.

Available now via iOS Test Flight

  In Before the Lockdown

While the current health crisis will probably keep Winter Play as one of the last local expo events for some time, they’re definitely worth looking into once we emerge from our lockdowns and social distancing and the world begins to return to normal. In the meantime, we can hopefully look forward to more hands-on time with some of these titles as they release on Switch and other platforms.

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[isthisprogress]

NZGDC17 Day 1 & Game Developer Playtest

Project Progress

Over the break, I have made significant changes to DTF DTB and have something looking a lot closely to the desired outcome. The control scheme has been re-designed. Where the attacks are now square(PS4) and triangle(PS4). Where attacks are now able to do up to a 3 hit combo. The tavern actually has objects to throw. Furthermore, many more additional changes have been made. However, I would like to keep its state a secret before we get back to uni. Hence, no screenshots here.

NZGDC17 Day 1

Today, was workshop day. The two workshops I enrolled in were:

Both talks used Unreal Engine 4, and were run by Chris Murphy.

Getting Started in VR

The first workshop focused on the basics of VR setup in an ue4 project. Chris taught us how to make a grabbable gun that shoots sliceable tables and a sword that can be use to cut the table. He also covered UI interaction in VR.

None of this was new to me, I had done most of what he taught previously. I choose this workshop to clarify if I had nailed the basics. However, I was never able to slice skeletal meshes and could never figure out how to make them procedural. According to Chris you can’t make skeletal meshes into procedural meshes. But, I can do what I want by breaking the closest bone to the point of impact and this will detach it from the character. Then I can spawn a gore decal, thus getting the Metal Gear Rising slicing effect I desire.  

Advanced Technical Art in Unreal Engine

Wow, just wow. This was advanced as the name states. What we covered was:

Making a material that holographically draw a mesh into the scene, from the bottom to the top.

Making a blended material using distance fields and pixel offset to make colliding rocks naturally blend into another to make it feel like one big rock.

Drawing sand on parts of a mesh close to the ground and panning noise across the top of the sand to produce a wind like effect.

Common mistakes made when setting up a landscape properly. Painting grass and dirt layers, and making areas look wet. Then spawning static grass meshes on slopes that are below a certain steepness.

This what it looked like altogether:

So far that is already a lot of information, right there. Honestly, a notable amount of information went over me. However, I did grasp a lot of the concepts and saw you can export your content to a library though check box.

September Game Developer Meetup

So this was the month we were finally able to present the game. Harry was down in Wellington and Ryan was only able to stay for a short period of time. 

However, I got a lot of feedback and was happy with its current state. There were varying comments about the lock on system. Where everyone wanted it to be mapped to another button. However, an artist from MDS Conrad; gave me the idea of making it lock on to the closest character to the direction of your right stick and pressing the button deactivates it. Initially, I wanted to use right stick for rollings away in that direction. But he mentioned that I should make dodge roll linked to block, where the character rolls if they move while blocking. Furthermore, he helped me adjust the camera’s base orientation and gave me the idea to make the top beams transparent if a character is on the top platform; because the beams got in the way.

Another thing that was brought to my attention was hit reacts. This is something I have been meaning to do for awhile. However, I had prioritised other tasks over this. 

Overall, the night was very informative and I was happy having my project up and sandwiched between 2 MDS projects chosen for PAX.