#Fog Tertiary

[bonusdragons]

September 6, 2023:

Fog Tertiary, Undertide, Circuit.

Grim of moomoopatt's clan!

[scryingworkshop]

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Fae Female

Fog / Heather / Purple , Ribbon / Sarcophagus / Thylacine

Shadow Pastel

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Polyphony

Chapter Twenty-Six

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Lee, Kevin, Charlie, Benny, Jesse, Sam/Madison, Annie/Bobbie, Crowley, Patience, Donna, Jody, Cesar, Nancy and going forward I'm just gonna list the bands as a whole unit and then the tertiary characters there's so many people all of the sudden!

Word Count: 3443

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, jealousy, Dean/Bela blow job, he's trying his best okay?, after party shenanigans, mild drug use

A/N: I am so sorry this update has taken me so long. It's been a weird couple of months. And with that I quickly duck away from all the tomatoes you will want to virtually throw at me over this chapter. xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Dean stepped off the side of the stage into the pit like a madman. He’d just played an entire show and finished with three encores. He didn’t want to be caught, it wasn’t an attempt at crowd surfing. It was submitting to the tide, merging with his audience.

They loved it, he was immediately met with open arms and cheers and more than one pinch on the ass.

The fog of smoke from the stage mixed with the stink of alcohol, decent weed and drying sweat then hovered over the entire crowd as Dean laughed and joked and hugged his way toward the barricade. Lee was still shouting his thank yous and Kevin was continuing to jam on the keys as the lights came back up.

Charlie cut all audio and the sudden lack of background noise was deafening. Everyone’s focus zeroed in on Dean among the chaos.

“Alright, c’mon brother,” Benny’s voice wrangled Dean out of the throes of fans more than anything. “Time to go home, folks! Let the man through!”

Dean waved and threw kisses backwards to the fans. Damn, his cheeks ached with the length of his grin, but he just couldn’t stop it. And apparently it was contagious, from Benny to Jesse, and all the way back to the dressing room, everyone who met his eye beamed back at him, followed by a cacophony of praise and congratulations that came by too fast to appreciate.

“There he is!” Lee shouted over all the laughing and cheering. The band and SPS had apparently started the after party the moment the show ended. Lee grabbed Dean around the neck, kissed his temple, and bowed him over for a noogie in the blink of an eye. Dean could have punched him in the dick, but took the high road and elbowed him in the gut instead. “Sonuvabitch—- let’s get you a drink.”

Lee dragged Dean towards the wall of booze they requested by the neck.

Someone smacked Dean’s hip as he waddled past, probably Donna, but it was too rowdy to be sure.

“Uh-oh!” Lee teased and then finally let Dean go. 

He popped up just in time for Bela to swoop in and kiss his speaking mouth. “Heh!” And okay, he closed his eyes a little late, but he was not expecting that. Lee whistled in his ear, but Dean had finally caught up with her and didn’t want to be ungrateful, so he deepened the kiss, got a hold of her hips and made it dirty, for the audience.

“Okay! Okay! Christ,” you swore. “Shots? I’m ready. Who else?”

Dean pulled back from Bela’s lips, suddenly self-conscious. She smirked, but Dean couldn’t quite match her mischief.

“Trouble’s startin’!” Pam hollered and Kevin practically shrieked as he rushed over to join you.

“You want in?” Dean asked Bela out of the side of his mouth.

“Definitely,” she agreed. They shuffled over and lined up for Cesar to drop another two disposable shot glasses onto the row before overfilling them all straight down the line.

“Salud!” He bid them imbibe.

“SALUD!” They shouted back in a choppy chorus.

The tequila without lime rolled down his throat more than stung, but Dean liked the way it felt on his tongue, an entirely different mouthfeel than his usual whiskey.

“Gah!”

Cesar eyed Dean knowingly, dark eyes bright and proud. “More?”

Dean nodded and looked around, seeing Patience sitting on the minifridge. “Hey Psychic chic, lay one on me?!”

She rolled her eyes but hopped down and got Dean a beer chaser as Cesar poured another row. “You’re a goddamn saint, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Nice job out there,” Patience almost looked impressed.

Dean cranked the cap off his bottle and held it up. “Just gettin’ started.”

“That we are,” she agreed and then leaned over and reached behind Dean, waving and then holding out her hand. “Hey! Sorry, we haven’t met. I’m Patience— I’m the bass player for the opener.”

“Bela! I’m with him,” Bela replied, diligently shaking Patience’s hand. Dean couldn’t see it, but he felt it as Bela braced against his back to reach.

“You poor thing!” Patience teased.

“I’m right here you know!” Dean griped playfully and took his and Bela’s shot in the meantime, winking at Cesar.

“Eh, it’s not all bad,” Bela heavily implied something.

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Patience said in a way like she’d be following up.

Dean groaned and took a long pull off his beer before finally turning around and joining the conversation about him. Bela practically draped herself against him, her spangly bracelets rattled down her forearm as she got comfortable.

“What is that bad?” Dean stage whispered to Bela.

“I’ll tell you later, dear,” Bela said diplomatically, patting his chest.

Patience chuckled. “How long?”

Dean looked at Bela before he could fuck that one up. “Couple of months.”

“Six.”

“Six?!” Dean balked.

“Yes, six months since we met for brunch at that place with the frittatas.”

“It’s March— that was November,” Dean countered.

“It’s still new, though,” Patience suggested, clearly amused.

“Basically,” Dean agreed.

“Not too new,” Bela tacked on.

Dean sipped his beer and looked around the room as Bela asked Patience about her band, things Dean heard but already knew. Lee and Kevin were geeking about something or another as they talked to Donna whose smirk told Dean that she was baiting them for something. Sam was spread back on the couch with Madison draped against his side while Annie sat across from them sealing a joint. Bobby and Victor were talking shop with the Sera chick from the venue just outside the door, making peace or demands, Dean couldn’t be sure.

He wondered if Charlie was still making notes for the show tomorrow or if she was here somewhere he hadn’t clocked.

“Alright folks, time to go make nice with the civilians. SPS let’s get you ladies first— Sam, grab your brother.” Bobby bellowed through the dressing room before heading out to the meet and greet area. Lots of bands did this stuff before the show, but Dean always preferred it after. Plus enough booze tended to put everyone, fan or band member, at ease.

Dean gave Patience a knowing look, rolled his eyes, and then pulled his arm off of Bela’s shoulders. “Duty calls.”

Seeing fans face-to-face was a mixed bag. Dean was never immune to the ego boost, it meant a lot that someone enjoyed something he helped make and that they were able to give them a good show in return. But there were the absolute nutbags too. And then everyone else in the middle who were either way too excited and forgot he was essentially a stranger or that he was a person at all, or trying so hard to be cool and aloof that he left feeling bad for them.

Generally it was fun, if exhausting. But after he had crashed and burned, he had this nagging urge to hang back and let the rest of the band do the heavy lifting for once. The guilt of entertaining that thought weighed on him as he followed Sam, Pam and Bobby while being flanked by Kevin and Lee. Dean Winchester didn’t pass the buck, he picked up the slack and so he walked into the repurposed rehearsal room with a big grin and his arms wide above his head.

“How’s it going everybody?!”

Screams and cheers hit them in a solid wave of sound. Carefully, you escorted them to the signing tables while everyone was still corralled behind the snap-bracelet dividers while Bobby watched the exit and the crowd. The venue’s security managed the line, ensuring everyone generally kept their clothes on and hands to themselves for this part.

SPS took up the first two tables, forcing PT’s diehards to play nice and give the openers some love. Though Dean was pleasantly surprised to see some folks decked out in their gear too, especially as a transplant band it made him proud of his friends. He cracked open the water bottle that was set in front of his assigned seat and chugged half of it. Suddenly hoping he didn’t smell too rank, from breath or sweat, he hadn’t stopped long enough to remember to grab some gum or more deodorant. He did a sniff check and felt a warm palm on his shoulder.

“Sure or unsure?” You teased, leaning in to hear him over the hustle and bustle of approaching fans.

“Passable. Got any gum?”

You rolled your eyes and stood back up to spin your compact cross-body bag around to dig through for him.

“Thanks,” Dean said while popping the piece into his mouth.

“‘’Course— anybody else?” You held out your pack and it got passed down the line from Lee to Sam, Pam was already covered, but Kevin took two, unabashedly pocketing the spare for later.

Then it was go-time and autographs passed in a blur.

The venue staff broke down the tables and slowly the people who hung around were able to mingle with the bands. Dean felt the urgency of a few groups pressing in on him, but he just grabbed his nearest bandmate, Kevin, and made the circle of conversation bigger. 

“So you’re the new Cas— how’s that going?” A woman who was old enough to know better asked behind hipster glasses.

“Weren’t you out there?!” Dean pushed back. “Dude killed tonight.”

“Ah, thanks, Dean.” Kevin said like the asshole he is. “And to think the last eight months felt like a fever dream.”

“Yeah, yeah, pipsqueak, we’re keeping you around.”

The small crowd around them laughed nervously, not yet getting Kevin’s humor.

Dean posed for selfies and gave out hugs and even had a thumb war with someone’s eight-year-old (who should not have been hanging out so late, but he wasn’t their parent). By the time the rest of the band had slipped away to the official afterparty, which included more of their friends and family and the rest of VIP, Dean was beat. 

So he headed back to the dressing room for a quick pitstop, Benny at his side now that the stage was secured for tomorrow night’s show.

Waiting for him, sprawled out on the couch like the epitome of seduction, was Bela, slowly smoking a joint through an antique cigarette holder. Who the fuck even had one of those? But damn, it stopped him well and good.

“Hey.”

“Hi there, is it time for the next round?” She slowly pulled herself up and slinked into his space. Behind him, he heard the door close. Fucking Benny.

“Yeah, I was just coming in here to— uh, freshen up a bit.”

Bela took another hit. “I see. Well, I won’t keep you from all that, but I might tempt you to stick around a bit before bumping more elbows.”

Dean eyed the couch she had crawled off of and the whole expanse of their suddenly empty dressing room. “Uh, yeah, I could use something to take the edge off.”

There was an actual shower stall nestled in the back of the ensuite bathroom of the dressing room. Dean was not brave enough to tackle that series of possibilities at the moment. But he ddid a quick scrub down of his junk and pits at the sinks, because nobody deserved a whiff of stale ball sack even if they only did this half clothed and dirty. He was a gentleman, okay?

He made sure to pull a condom out of his wallet and moved it to his front pocket instead. With one final glance in the mirror, Dean stepped back out into the dressing room proper, to see Bela now sipping something clear and fizzy out of one of the small plastic cups the venue sold cocktails in, legs crossed and eyes wicked.

“Hey.”

This thing with Bela had been growing tedious the longer it went on, but with the tour and all the publicity it wasn’t like either of them could get their rocks off with randos anymore. Dean liked Bela, in a get under-your-skin way with a perpetual need to one up one another flare that felt very high school yet with more varying levels of stakes attached. 

But she was gorgeous and more than interested. So he indulged again.

Dean sank down onto the couch beside her and finished the roach she had left in the tip of her cigarette holder, propped up on an ugly brown glass ashtray that was potentially older than both of them.

Who knew where half the shit in the dressing room came from.

Once he was good and relaxed, Bela set down her drink.

“You know New Kids on the Block was my first concert. I got to meet them and pose for pictures before they took the stage at Whitley Bay. Nobody knew who I was, we had just finished filming the first season of Red Sky at Dawn, but they still made me feel like a princess.”

Dean didn’t quite know what to say. “Well I hope we rocked a little harder than a boy band.”

Bela nodded and considered. “I was wondering if you’d mind making me feel a little more grown up—- a little more wild.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “You got some sort of fantasy I need to know about here?”

Bela huffed a laugh, more to herself, she wasn’t quite looking at him.

“All this, backstage at a rock concert— sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. I guess I always wanted to be the teenage bad girl. But I was never allowed, my “reputation” always came first.”

“Okay, well, I’m not exactly into PYTs anymore, so if you want to play pretend, let's keep our own ages— I’m game, just tell me what you wanna do.”

Bela kissed him in response and creeped onto his lap.

Dean’s hands found her hips and dragged her closer, while his tongue turned the kiss sloppy. She hummed into his mouth and rubbed the warmth between her legs against his hardening dick. They really didn’t have time for a whole scenario here, but he wanted to make her happy.

“You like it a little dirty? Fucking groupie just need to get a piece of me to brag about to all your friends? Huh?”

Her voice came out accentless and needy, always a performer and goddamn pro too. “Please, Dean, I just want to touch it. To feel you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you can do more than that. How about you get on your knees and show me how much you want it?”

“I can do that— I love doing that,” Bela emphasized the last word, like it was too dirty to call by its name. 

“Yeah?” Dean leaned back and unbuttoned his jeans. “Show me.”

Bela eagerly dug him out of his boxers and fly, stroking him to his full glory. Her eyes sparkled conspiratorially. Dean tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she took him deep inside her mouth.

Fucking hell was she warm and sucked him like she was pulling a golf ball through a garden hose.

“That’s it, take me deep. Show me how much you want me to come down that tight little throat of yours,” Dean growled, nearly spitting the words out until he closed his eyes. 

         He was transported back into his shower at home, the thoughts of you on your knees, of you teasing him, and running your bottom lip over the ridge of his tip. You lapping up the bead of precum you coaxed out of his slit. Dean wanted it to be you more than he should. But more than that, he wanted you anyway he could have you. And the thought of all the ways he would make you scream was what sent him over.

“FUCK!” Dean shouted, biting his bottom lip and holding Bela’s head in place as his dick finished twitching through his orgasm.

Bela purred and licked him clean. 

“You’re a fucking menace, I’ll have you know.” Dean said exasperated. And then pulled her face to his for a final kiss. “UGH! I have to go to at least another two parties now.”

Bela chuckled. “You can do it. You’re the lead singer of Phantom Traveler! You can’t be made useless from a single blow job.”

“Yeah, well, it was a killer bj.”

Bela rolled her eyes. “Stop bragging and help me fix my hair.”

Dean did as he was told.

Crowley was waiting at the after party. Which, fucking figured, but Dean and Bela showed up fashionably late had the snarky asshole smugger than a grandma who just gave her grandson his fifth cookie before sending him home for nap time.

Dean looked around the club, keeping quick tabs on the rest of the band and SPS. Jody and Donna were talking to Pam in the corner and he wouldn’t be surprised if somebody swapped hotel rooms that night. Those women knew how to have fun.

Patience and Kevin were talking to some more dressed up fans that might actually be family of someone or another at the label. Dean couldn’t remember what Crowley’s son looked like the last time he saw him, besides having an early Beatles ‘do.

Nancy and Sam were talking animatedly about something nerdy, Dean was certain. It even looked like Sam had found himself a triple red eye somewhere tonight, because there was no way that moose was that awake this late naturally.

Lee was sweet talking a group of ladies along the half wall near the bar, as Cesar watched from the corner amused. All of their people were there it seemed, he just hadn't spotted Charlie yet until he got a solid knuckle to the bicep.

“Took you long enough!” 

“A wizard is never late, he arrives precisely when he means to,” Dean quoted in his best Ian McKellan voice.

“Dude! Stop, you can’t do a good Gandalf and you know it!” Charlie begged. “So? Good night so far?”

She eyed Bela knowingly. “See anybody on my team? Besides the openers? I’m not touching that kind of drama again. Though Pam looks like she may be—?”

Dean chuckled. “Pam does what Pam wants— too late to stop her now. But, uh, I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

Charlie held up her fist and Dean met it with a solid bump. “See you ‘round, Red.”

Bela waved at her as she left, comfortable at Dean’s side and smug as ever.

Dean made his way to the hor'dourves table and Bela went to find them fresh drinks. As far as afterparties went, it was a little more high brow than they usually were, but it wasn’t bad. 

Dean just wasn’t feeling it.

Or maybe it was the way Victor was leaning in to hear you better as you discussed something or another with him and Bobby and Annie across the bar. They ate and they drank and they got rowdier once everyone made it to the hotel. Lee had two girls heading up to his room, but he and Pam were arguing over who got to use their room for the night and who was picking up their luggage to make getting ready in the morning easier.

Sam and Madison kept stopping every five feet to kiss or grope one another. While Charlie and some curly haired girl with cat ears sticking out of her head were almost as gross.

SPS were riding into the hotel on the roadies’ backs, little Nancy on Jesse and Donna on Benny like they were jockeys or cowgirls. Kevin and Patience were carrying their bags and shoes, apparently, behind them, amused and begrudgingly helpful. Dean, Bela, you and Cesar all rode up on an elevator together, leaving behind most of the mayhem for a blissful stretch of two minutes of quiet.

You actually may have fallen asleep standing up.

Dean nudged you and you quickly snapped out of it, fumbling for your room key and dragging Bela with you.

“Uh, Y/N? I’m going to Dean’s— I’ll just get my stuff in the morning.”

“What? Oh! Yeah, of course.” You yawned so hard, Dean had to take a deep one himself. It didn’t lessen the heat that crept up his neck as you watched Bela walk the opposite way down the hall from your room. “See you guys— see you guys at breakfast.”

Dean wanted to say something, to be reassuring, you looked so sullen all of the sudden. His mouth wouldn’t work and his feet didn’t either until Bela tugged on his elbow and marched towards his penthouse suite.

He really wanted to shoot her in that moment.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

Chapter 27: Molto

[juustozzi]

Winged people au? Maybe

But i just think that Kirino is like humming-bird

I have to admit, I first thought some kind of shore bird would fit Kirino, like a bird that lives in a really foggy/misty area? but I couldn't really find any specific species relating to fog nor had any strong ideas myself so I might ditch that thought haha

in my mind hummingbird is not maybe the best match but it works well enough :3 they have pretty colorless and simple wings, but I found a species that fits Kirino well I think: anna's hummingbird!

I also took this opportunity to draw Shindou too! peacock wings are so fun but hard to figure out, and they're eye-catching even without the classic peacock tail feathers. but they're also massive and Shindou struggles some with all the tertiary feathers; they make fitting clothes a lot harder. good thing he's rich haha

[nonsensical-pixels]

1000 followers gift, part 4: morning dove reshade and teeny tots collection part 2! [download - sfs | mf folder]

it's finally here: the final gift for my 1000 followers weekend! and it's a two in one deal!

over the last year i have come to realise that i really like making two things: reshades, and toddler stuff. it's so satisfying watching the environment my sims are in, and the whole mood of the game, change with the click and drag of a few buttons. also, toddlers are really cute and there isn't nearly enough stuff out there for them.

part 4 has two things: my second reshade preset ever, morning dove, as well as my first every clothing conversions--and for toddlers too! i have received many, many questions about what reshade preset i use, so this is it!

update 10-4-23: fixed issue with weird squares/rectangles on ep05 dress holiday and ep05 vest bowtie, please redownload and replace the original meshes!

credits

@kindlespice for the dove 2.0 preset i used as a base for morning dove!

ea/maxis for the original meshes & textures of the toddler formalwear

@skittlessims for helping me with all of the errors and confusion i encountered while converting the clothing, and also for just being an amazing friend and mentor in general. love ya anna 💕

for more info, on both the downloads and the future of this blog, please keep reading 😊

part 4a: morning dove

previews feature all effects except fog, artistic vignette, & chromatic abberation. these effects however are present in most of my cc posts, so if you look at my previews i believe you can see them 😅

if you've been following my builds/gameplay for awhile, then you probably recognise this preset. i use it in almost every screenshot of mine, and many people have asked for it, so here it finally is! it is based on @kindlespice's dove 2.0 preset but with a lot of tweaking to make it more versatile in ts2. this preset comes with a number of different shortcuts to enable/disable certain effects: Alt + 4 -> mxao Alt + 6 -> adaptive fog + canvas fog Shift + 2 -> ring dof and gdof Alt + 5 -> artistic vignette Alt + 7 -> marty mcfly dof Alt + 8 -> chromatic abberration Alt + 9 -> directional anti-aliasing the basic goal of morning dove is a preset that looks good in any style--maxis match, realistic, or clay!

part 4b: teeny tots part 2

this particular download just makes me very happy. i love ts2 toddlers, they'll always be the best in the franchise in my eyes, and just look at those happy lil faces! also, milo stylo is being milo stylo and looking so damn cute. there never seems to be enough toddler formalwear (imo) so it just makes me really happy that i was able to make my own.

these are my first ever clothing conversions, i did my best but they're not perfect, so there may be clipping and gaps especially around the shoulders of gp11 dress flower. i apologise for this, i really tried but didn't manage to fix it 😔

EP05 Dress Holiday - PU only, 14 colors, casual & formal, 3.7k polys [swatch] - paired with @skittlessims' base game mary-jane shoes from their lunar dress💕 GP11 Bowtie Shirt - PU only, 10 colors, casual & formal, 3.8k polys [swatch] - paired with base game sneakers taken from @lucilla-sims' ep11 suspenders 💞 GP11 Dress Flower - PU only, 10 colors, casual & formal, 5.3k polys [swatch] - paired with @skittlessims' base game mary-jane shoes from their lunar dress💕 EP05 Vest Bowtie - PU only, 9 colors, casual & formal, 4.0k polys [swatch] - paired with base game sneakers taken from @lucilla-sims' ep11 suspenders 💞

final words

well, i guess that's it then! it's the end of a long gift-filled weekend. and also, the start of a very long break.

my final exams will be starting in about two weeks and ending around november; they are the most important ones i have ever faced and i cannot afford to lose focus. after that will be exam after exam, as i enter tertiary education.

if you still wanna chat with me/hear how i'm doing you could probably join the simscord by @skittlessims, i'm a junior moderator on there now so i will still be semi-active on my break. also, if i do find the time to post cc anymore, it will probably be on there lol.

the sims has always been a sort of escapism for me, a way to pretend that the trials of real life don't exist. but in the last few months i've felt myself drifting farther and farther from it. i need to focus on my studies and stay focused on my life goals.

the future of this blog is still uncertain. i have cc queued up until june--leftovers from my original break, stuff i finished up, requests i got during my holidays--but after that, there probably won't be any more until i come back... which could be anywhere from 9 months to 9 years, tbh, with my current mood. until then, consider this blog on semi-permanent hiatus.

there are so many of you who have supported this blog from day one, who have always stuck with me even when i'm not at my best or when misunderstandings occur. i cannot thank you enough for your continued support and love. the last year has been a difficult time for me: losing pets, friends, and in general, my mental health. this extra-long gift weekend is for you--a thank you for the over 365 days of kindness you have shown me.

i am sorry for this, but for now, i am going to have to leave you again. thank you for the love, and i hope you enjoy the cc while it lasts. until next time,

~ Ky, nonsensical-pixels

[all-things-skylanders]

Custom Skylander: Prismystic!

(Art and Concept by: @duckduckhjonk)

Prismystic: Water and Light Twin-Type Skylander

Catchphrase: “Over the Rainbow!”

Concept: A rainbow based eastern dragon. In Water form, it's hidden away in a fog of mist, but in Light form, they learned to accept themselves and become a sparkling spotlight

Origin:

Prismystic, in both timelines, was born a powerful rainbow dragon, able to control light and water. However, depending on the events within their lifespans, the two ended up very different.

The Prismystic who centered their magic on Water grew up shy and ignored, hiding away in a cloudy fog of mist, fighting evil with stealth, refusing to be seen.

But in the world where they focused on the Light, Prismystic had been given the love and acknowledgement that all children deserve, and grew happy and joyous, taking pride in their skills. While they can be a bit egotistical, they always still seek to protect above all else.

Now, combined as one, thanks to King Kaos' machinations, the two are a perfect balance of humble silence and self loving pride, able to keep their emotions in check and fight with both stealth and strength!

(As usual, if you would like to take part in the Twin Skies project, just DM me or join the discord through the link provided in my pinned post!)

Stats and Upgrades under the cut:

Stats:

In Water Form:

Health: 320 (Level 1) 960 (Level 20)

Power: 40

Speed: 38

Armor: 60

Critical Hit: 50

Elemental Power: 25

In Light form:

Health: 320 (Level 1) 960 (Level 20)

Power: 60

Speed: 50

Armor: 38

Critical Hit: 40

Elemental Power: 25

Water Form Upgrades:

Core Abilities:

Primary - Mist Claw: Prismystic makes a quick, medium range slash, extending their claws with mist.

Secondary - Mist Cloud: Prismystic summons a large cloud of mist that obscures everything inside of it. While inside of the cloud, Prismystic (and other Skylanders) will be invisible, but not invulnerable. If they attack while in the cloud, they will become visible for a few seconds. The cloud will last for around 10 seconds, before it shrinks into nothing. Only one cloud can exist at a time.

Upgrades (ordered by cost to purchase, Twin-Types get less upgrades per path):

1200 - Tertiary: Echoed Ripples: Prismystic creates a ring of water that burst out from their current location, slowly expanding, while dealing more damage the bigger it gets.

1700 - Extended Echoes: The Echoed Ripples will now create three ripples, the first one being smaller and weaker, the second being the same as the original Echoed Ripple, and the third one being larger and stronger.

Upgrade Paths:

Path 1 - Smokey Wallflower: Prismystic shrinks in on themselves further, living within their fog cloud near constantly

2200 - Extended Fog: The Mist Cloud lasts for 50% longer

3000 - Misty Echoes: When Prismystic uses the Echoed Ripples, the rings will generate a small fog cloud that works identically to the Mist Cloud, but lasts for half the time.

Path 2 - Water-Cloaked Assassin: Prismystic is a master of stealth and espionage, putting their sneaking skills to use with powerful, sudden attacks

2200 - Steaming Claws: Hold down the primary button to turn the Misty Claw into the Steaming Claws. Release for a medium damage double claw swipe. The Steaming Claws does double damage when an Enemy hasn't seen/can't see Prismystic.

3000 - Silent Echoes: The Echoed Ripples no longer turn Prismystic visible when used while in the Mist Cloud.

Soul Gem:

4000 - Lingering Mist: Prismystic will remain invisible for a time after leaving the Mist Cloud, but will become visible after using an attack.

Light Form Upgrades:

Core Abilities:

Primary - Rainbow Tail: Prismystic spins in a circle to do a medium range tail slap all around themself.

Secondary - Bursting Rainbow: Prismystic fires a bright laser forwards that deals high damage and pierces through enemies. The laser will get the attention of nearby enemies, causing them to notice Prismystic faster (Risk reward dynamic of high damage VS. more enemies)

Upgrades (ordered by cost to purchase, Twin-Types get less upgrades per path):

700 - Tertiary: Flashing Rainbow: Prismystic teleports a set distance in any direction in a burst of light, creating a bright explosion when reforming that deals low damage.

1200 - Rainbow Wraparound: The Rainbow Tail leaves lingering light around Prismystic that will deal minor damage to any foes close by.

Upgrade Paths:

Path 1 - Elongated Warrior: Prismystic is a bit of a show off, and they love to spin their whole body at top speed to show just how proficient they are!

2200 - Rapid Rotations: Hold the Primary button to have Prismystic begin to rapidly spin. Prismystic can still move while doing this, and leaves a trail of damaging sparkles in their wake. The spinning will deal rapid amounts of low damage as it repeatedly hits everything in range.

3000 - Rainbow Reversal: Hitting a projectile with the Rainbow Tail will bounce it back, causing it to be reflected. This only works on proper projectiles, so it can't reflect lasers and similar attacks.

Path 2 - Seven Colored Artillerist: Take any notion of secrecy and throw it out the window! This path is for Prismystic to go all out with brute force rainbow lasers!

2200 - Blazing Rainbow: The Secondary button can be held to have Prysmistic continue firing the Bursting Rainbow, with it glowing brighter and brighter as it deals more damage. Once the laser hits maximum charge, it'll remain in that state, with Prismystic taking 10 damage every two seconds it's held.

3000 - Rainbow Explosion: When the Bursting Rainbow attack is concluded, it will explode, with the explosion being more powerful the larger the charge was. This will attract enemies in an even wider range than the laser does.

Soul Gem:

4000 - Rapid Flash: The Flashing Rainbow travels twice as far, now making two explosions. One at the halfway mark, and a second one at the destination.

[ormir]

Location: Tiber Bay When: Present day, shortly before leaving for Astoria &&: @xdeimosx

Climbing into bed with the same nation he’d warred with was a desperate measure, but with the lines along Aventia crumbling and the darkspawn inching closer with every moment, there was no time nor pride to spare. If his summons were enough to pull the prince away from an ego-fueled death on the front lines, that alone would make the journey worthwhile. Ormir needed only to deal with tightening up their arguments, charting possible means of escape (if things were to go as bad as he imagined they could), and seeing that they were well-stocked for the journey. Sleep was tertiary to the preparations such a voyage demanded.

The shipyard proved an assault on every sense. Shouts of direction and haggling from the fishmongers were muddied by the constant bray of gulls circling overhead. As the film of morning fog burnt away, bodies jostled through it, clearly just dumped out by the taverns. One nearly clipped the shoulder of the noble as he passed. The stench of fish and decaying algae clogged the air, baking off of the sea. Breathing through the mouth would only saturate the palette with the taste. A great ship waited at the end of the dock, primed for voyage. The wooden board creaked under Ormir’s feet as he boarded the ship, toting a leather case beneath one arm. He’d not been willing to gamble its contents on any errand boy who reported directly to Arethusa. Better to handle such delicate matters personally.

Satisfied, Ormir disembarked empty-handed, and cut away from the central clamor of the dockyard. It would be prudent to cut through the merchant alley, clear the briny smell in his nostrils and make it back to the tower before mid-day. Instead, the Iskaran decided to walk a while longer along the waterfront, hearing the gulls bark and allowing his mind to wear down the same lapping trails of thought. It was a small indulgence. Sighting a familiar crop of hair by the water triggered a flutter of intrigue. Ormir didn’t believe much in serendipity, but few meetings stuck with him the way Deimos’ attitudes had. They had marked him, challenged him. The noble sometimes caught himself wondering what the other would do, in his place.

“I didn’t take you for a fisherman.” Ormir announced as he approached, keeping a handful of paces between himself and the man at the water’s edge.

[greenerteacups]

Hi there! Just wanted to ask something fun: what’s your favourite moment from each of the books you’ve written so far?

lovely lovely question. so much fun. let me see:

book one: i mean, the train station scene was the image that kicked off the whole series, so i have to pick that one. it resonated with me on so many levels — it introduces the running element of muggle music, which becomes a sort of leitmotif for draco and hermione's relationship, as well as draco's own character growth; it's a fun character moment, in that hermione gets to steal the show from draco's gift of an owl, leaving him speechless, when he'd surely have liked it a bit more the other way 'round, and that's going to be a precedent, too; i also just like the moment itself, as a piece of atmosphere and symbolism. it's his first year of being a gryffindor, and he's survived it, and it's sunny outside, and there's music playing.

there's also a fun nubbin of symbolism in that the song playing is supposed to be "white wedding," which is the epigraph from book 1 (and, in a sense, the whole fic), a song about redemption and starting over and yet also taking your past with you, as well as... well, a song about a wedding. so. take that as you will.

book two: narrowly, it's the moment at Theo's Yule Hunt party where narcissa has just collapsed, and the slytherins have all seen it. there's a beat where draco thinks they're going to turn on him, and use this vulnerability they've discovered to knife him in the back — only they don't. theo sizes him up and makes a call, and they help him get her out. daphne even breaks a school rule to do it. and pansy grouches and gripes about it — she gets in one jab about "hall-pass Slytherins," which still makes me giggle, to be honest — but she helps, too. it's a humanizing moment for them, and (hopefully) one of the first times we begin to see the slytherin kids as possible allies — utter brats, still, but nonetheless people with deeply cherished friendships, loyalties, and the capacity to show empathy and kindness for people they don't yet owe anything. it's maybe the most important moment of book 2, both in terms of theme and plotting.

book three: in terms of writing? i loved doing "The Last Marauder." god, what a fun chapter to write. sirius black's interactions with the golden quartet are some of the most entertaining exchanges in the series for me, bar none, because he's the furthest thing from a parental/supervisory figure that the kids have met (at least, that doesn't want to kill them). he's just unapologetically out of pocket in a way that's glorious for dialogue. (honorable mention here goes to daphne's moment at the League party, because when i finished the scene i sort of felt like daphne herself had burst into my room, held me at wandpoint, and demanded a larger role in the story. it was the moment she transformed in my mind from a tertiary character into a secondary one, and it was as glorious as you'd expect.)

as a moment per se, however, i think it has to be draco's patronus.

book four: "Padfoot Returns," by several orders of magnitude. no question. it's the scene that the whole series has really been building to, and writing it felt every ounce as cathartic as that sentence implies. i also got to do a lot of really fun imagery with smoke and rain and fog, and vamp a little about the ancient undying earth and the ghosts of Hogwarts castle, it was all just an uninterrupted pleasure, start to finish. took me about three weeks to get right, but it was three incredible weeks, let me tell you.

book five: so far, it's a scene in Myrtle's bathroom (which may or may not be cut for pacing reasons). after that, it's a duel in the Room of Requirement, because writing draco in fight scenes gets more and more fun every year.

[isagrimorie]

Also, in Scorpion II I didn't realize Seven of Nine's alcove was actually separate from everyone else and she had more things connected to her than a regular Borg drone.

There were a lot more wires connected to Seven but also I love the way she's introduced, the dutch angles, and the fog like she's Frankenstein's monster awakening.

(You can see the wires connected to Seven, three of them. Even her alcove is in a special place, separate from other Borg as far as we can see.

Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01 - it really does mean something).

Again, if we do get Star Trek Legacy, my wish is to see Seven of Nine in full Borg regalia just once, I know Jeri Ryan hates this costume with a passion, hopefully, modern techniques would make the body suit easier for her but also I really want to see an updated take on Seven of Nine's full Borg outfit.

[scryingworkshop]

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Imperial Male

Fog / Rose / Tan , Tiger / Daub / Runes

Water Dark Sclera

[secondtolastfr]

Happy Anniversary!

It's wild to think this funky little dragon game has been around for ten whole years. The site has chilled out since this morning, haha- here are my thoughts on what we've gotten:

New NPC: Avery the Wildclaw

I love him so, so much. He's a wreck, he's overworked, he's just like me fr. I love the little details in his artwork too, especially the trophies. Not to mention the Scroll Case and the Skycat! I hope we get his little bowtie thingy as apparel later on, it's adorable.

Favorite Vista: Crystal Shop

How very aesthetic! The big chunk of amethyst (?), the little jar, the specks and bits of color- it's just nice to look at.

Favorite Scene: Cottage Garden

It looks like it came straight out of a fairytale! I love the fog in the background, the subtle and dreamy colors, the little squirrel gnome... everything just comes together so nicely here. Absolutely adorable.

Favorite Apparel: Shackled Books

I love the imagery and the lore ideas here. The fact that each end of the chain ends in a clawed hand is super neat too! Since I'm a college student, I can relate, haha. I couldn't pick just one version of the books because all four colors are super cool and I can't wait to use them on my dragons.

Favorite Familiar: Crystal Collector

The name is a little lackluster in my opinion, but the design more than makes up for it. I mean, cmon- it's a crow and a raccoon. Together! A perfect being! A little dude you would find in your trashcan! Amazing!

Bees: Bees

Bees!

Tertiary Gene: Carnivore

This was so far out of left field and I love it. I have so many ideas for pairs that use it, and I'm doing my damnest to make one particular color combination work, but I think I've found a new favorite Tertiary.

Tertiary Gene: Firebreather

I haven't messed around with Firebreather yet, but I feel like it's Smirch-adjacent with a touch of Thylacine thrown into the mix. It could be really fun I think.

Other thoughts All in all, I'm really having fun with this. I'm more excited for Flight Rising than I've been in a while, and I can't wait to see what else the devs do. I hope everyone else is having fun too!

Happy Anniversary, everyone!

[thewestern]

Chapter 28

It was about lunchtime when the Newfy Four rolled into Edge City, and Grace, for her part, was wondering if there was a place to get, like, a sandwich around here. Waffles this morning had fallen through for some reason, after Kitty had talked them up. The Mick made scrambled eggs instead, which to be fair were fluffy and delicious, but not quite sufficient for soaking up the five-or-so Pack Lights she’d consumed the night prior. So a burrito or something would’ve really hit the spot. And then maybe for dinner they could order from that new Indian place whenever they got back from whatever this was. Grace was always thinking two meals ahead. 

Zeke was also hungry, but the feeling didn’t consume him in the way it did Grace. Maybe because he was more accustomed to it. Or perhaps it was the sight of this strange place eclipsed his senses. You see, Zeke had never seen a Western film. Why would he have? (Ask your nephew, or whoever the next person you talk to who’s under twenty-five. Bet you twenty bucks they haven’t either.) Nor had he been to a rodeo or a square dance or even a kitschy, cowboy-themed steakhouse. So, apart from some tertiary sources, such as an Old West-themed episode of Sponge Bob Square Pants, he had no cultural frame of reference for this facade. Of course, it was laid out like any small town, with storefronts arranged along either side of a Main Street. But Zeke had never been to one of them either. Sure, his ancestors had great-migrated up from the postbellum south. But he was a mid-major city slicker, born and bred. So happening upon a place like this, a single-prostitute Potemkin village with a podunk patina, Zeke may as well’ve landed on another planet. It’s a funny feeling, to be a stranger in a strange land, and one that’s harder and harder to come by, in a world where everybody’s been there and done that. Come to think, closest you can probably come, assuming you’re a jam band virgin, is finding your nearest show. You don’t even have to by a ticket. Just wander around the parking lot. The natives call it Shakedown Street. It’s quite a bizarre bazaar. 

As for the Mick, this wasn’t his first rodeo. (For a matter of fact, as a boy he’d been a champion mutton buster.) And while he hadn’t seen it all, he had arrived at the age — call it a quarter-life crisis — when it sure as hell seemed like he’d done. Every movie a remake. Every episode a rerun. Every song a cover. Every painting a print. But, alas, he couldn’t stop watching or listening. Don’t stop or you’ll die. Thus here he was Edge City. Just another place he had to be. 

Kitty pulled the station wagon to a stop outside the General Colin Powell Store. Parking in EC was a breeze. She opened her driver’s side door first, and all three cascaded after in clockwise order, stepping out onto the thoroughfare. This would have been the appropriate time for a tumbleweed to come tumbling across the frame. Rather, the unmistakably skunky odor of a different kind of weed altogether wafted toward them from the other side of town. Led by Grace, like a cartoon wolf following her upturned nose toward an unprotected pie on a window sill, they ambled anachronistically toward it, until the yurt came into clear view. With smoke billowing out of the reservoir tip of its bulbous moon roof, as well as seeping from the seams in the canvas walls, it looked like a goddamn sweat lodge in there. As if somebody had opened up Pandora’s Hot Box. Approaching the structure now in earnest, Grace fell back behind Kitty, who looked to Mick, as if to say, you do it. And so he did, opening the French-Indian doors with both hands so that the fog enveloped him like the smoke monster from Lost, his and Kitty’s favorite show to watch during their collegiate courtship, quite often after smoking a bowl themselves. It didn’t linger, however. Rather it dissipated to reveal the only way this was ever going to end. 

Ah … drag, said the Mick, as sincerely as somebody could say something like that. It was genuinely how he felt, and not to mention about all he could muster, seeing a lifeless form hanging there above him. 

(For those of you perverts wondering about the logistics of all this, the genuine John Brown gallows had been rolled into the yurt from outside the jail. To be clear they didn’t come with wheels. Uncle Ernie had them affixed for sake of conveniance. If he only knew.) 

The as-yet-rising haze obscured everything above the knee. However, like the Wicked Witch — or more like that poor Oompa Loopa who offed himself … IYKY — he could identify the body by the kicks. Boots, more like. Billy’s trademark Tims. Then the pants, which looked comfortable enough for eternal rest. Velour loungewear, quite baggy and sagging well below the waist. Soon it became clear that the track jacket matched, which … you already know. Co-branded embroidery Wolffenbeir x Roc-a-wear collab. (Since he had it made on spec, this was a one-of-one piece, not unlike Billy himself.) On his breast, he wore a tall tee, another wardrobe staple. (Inspired by various luminaries of business, notably Steve Jobs, as well as such O.G.s of the rap game as Run D.M.C and N.W.A., Billy had taken in his final months to fashioning a uniform of sorts out of this bespoke sweatsuit and garishly large white blouse. One less decision to make every morning — although, more routinely he roused in the early-to-mid afternoon — would afford him more time for making money moves, as he explained to an as-yet unmoved Yayo-L).  

 Shining brightly around his neck, right below the hangman’s noose, was a twenty-one link silver chain. Encrusted with diamonds, a waning lunar countenance, wearing sunglasses and a wry smile. (This he only busted out for special occasions.) 

The dregs of the marijuana cloud lifted to reveal his death mask. He must have hollowed out the stuffing. For they had, at long last, located Bertha. Sitting atop Billy’s presumed head, like a pagan crown of thorns. 

The Mick looked Billy up and down. Had he ever seen a dead body before? IRL, obviously. Rather than, how did we get here, or where does one go when one dies, that was the question that sprung to mind. Perhaps an attempt at parsing this real-time traumatic experience from the bibliography of carnage one can reasonably assume to have compiled as a consumer of popular culture in the violent cross-section from late eighties action canon to early aughts internet snuff. He hadn’t, was the conclusion at which his internal monologue arrived. However, of course, he had. His grandfather had died in his sleep one night. The following morning all the grandchildren were brought in to say goodbye. How had he forgotten that? 

Grace, as a self-professed, last-of-her-dying-breed butch bull-dyke, didn’t consider herself a hugger. Apparently, though, death brought out the lipstick lesbian in her, since she bear-hugged the closest person to her, which just so happened to be Zeke, into whose ample embrace she buried herself. For his sake, this turned what would have otherwise been quite a melancholy occasion into perhaps the happiest of his young life. Although he was on the inside overjoyed to have Grace fallen into his arms, and he in turn right back into love with her, Zeke had the good sense to project outwardly a solemnity deserving of the moment. 

Kitty, for her part, responded not by thinking of her own feelings. That’s no shots at the others, either. It’s just that Kitty was a different cat. Nor, however, did she think of Billy, but rather of his mother. For we reserve our thoughts for those the dead leave behind, as did she when she said:

We should get him down. 

No, please don’t. 

And there she was. Hildy. 

Crime scenes aren’t to be disturbed​​. (Suicide has been almost universally decriminalized in the developed world. For a fact, so-called right-to-die statutes legalising physician-assisted euthanasia are increasingly de rigueur. However, it is still often considered an unwritten Common Law crime, even in some U.S. states, which could prevent the victim’s family from seeking damages from some or other culpably negligent party, assuming of course the deceased had been of copis mentis.)

 Irregardless of whether the investigation in this case seems perfunctory. Deep down even I knew this day would come. Studies have shown suicide to be hereditary, paternally in particular. 

(As to which parties Hildy’s referring, best leave that for you, the reader to parse. Suffice it to say though that having suicidal tendencies were about as close to a family tradition as the family Wolff had, apart of course from Der Sonntagsessen. Hell, they all thought about it from time to time. [Often during Der Sonntagsessen.] And while most didn’t fully commit — commitment issues were another common-held family trait — maybe they dipped their toe in now and again. Maybe leave the car running in the garage, just a little bit. Catch a buzz. Or what about seeing how those meds compliment one another — would it really be so bad? Hey, how long can do you think I hold my breath in this infinity pool. Half-hearted attempts. Heck, even the dogs got in on the act. Now, naturally, we can’t know for certain the extent of their intent to cause self-harm, but they were both known for ingesting foreign objects. Clothing accessories such as stockings or mittens,  household appliances including a chunk bitten off a vacuum cleaner, as well as various other small items, were a staple of their diet. One of them once ate an incandescent light bulb. Swallowed it whole without it breaking. To a pooch of lesser means, this would have no doubt spelled a death sentence. But not to these two, because each time they ‘et something they weren’t supposed to — between them their cadence was around semi-quarterly — Hildy would pony up to co-pay the five-to-fifteen thousand bones it took to have the something surgically extricated from their abdomens. She had written the habit off as a garden variety eating disorder — also hereditary to Hildy, albeit on the maternal side. However, more than one psychiatric veterinarian hypothesized that with each incident, the canines perhaps expressed an intent. One of hope that their owner would cut her losses, put them out of their misery and thus release them from this prison which were their deeply inbred bodies and utterly meaningless existences, as man’s best friends to a woman never had any use for one.)

I bet she starts a lot of conversations with, Studies Have Shown, thought the Mick, aghast at this lady’s la-di-da reaction to discovering her dead son, as were they all four except for Kitty. Just that morning, she had already heard Hildy deliver her maternal lament. Like she saw it coming. Kind of how newspapers pre-write their obituaries for super old or terminally ill famous people, which Kitty had heard somewhere they did. 

Sorry for your loss, said Grace, perfunctorily. Still she was clutching onto Zeke, who would have absolutely offered a more heartfelt condolence, were it not for the fact that on account of his being shown such affection by Grace, he may never speak again. 

Oh, don’t be sorry. Not for me, anyway. Be sorry for my little boy. If you can summon the sympathy. I know for our lot it’s in ever-shorter supply. Sure, it’s true he had every opportunity, but believe me when I say he never stood a chance. Maybe because I failed him when I handed him those opportunities. Or maybe I overestimated his capacity to seize upon them. We were so different in that way. While in other ways we were perhaps too similar. Such that we never really found peace with each another. But I loved him. Maybe I wasn’t the mother he wanted. They say becoming a parent changes you, but they never specify how. But I did love him, in my way. And more than that I always wanted the best for him. For us. I still do. I wish him the best.  

It was part eulogy, part confessional, part passive aggressive diss track. All Hildy. Her all over. And she didn’t shed a single tear as she delivered her remarks. Not because she thought she shouldn’t give in to her emotions. Rather because she physically couldn’t. Her ducts had been long since dammed up, probably as a side effect of some or other cosmetic procedure. Or maybe the well the well had done dried. After all, ahe used to cry all the time. 

There’s a note.

The Mick had sat down to collect himself at the computer desk, where Ernie’s Edge City employees would clock in and out and file complaints against him with HR. The monitor glowed white with a word processing document. 

Perhaps you should delete it. Whatever he said, I’m sure he didn’t mean it. Do me a kindness and contact the proper authorities. I’m in mourning. 

With that, Hildy peaced the fuck out. She gone. 

The Mick, for his part, took her words to be the sad coda to this entire strange saga. He was ready to get the hell out of Edge City, return to his life of brewing beer and never think about any of these people again, hopefully. But before he did, he wanted to read what Billy wrote. He had spun into his life like a fucking tornado. But the Mick still felt he owed him the courtesy of hearing out his last fucking words. And, hey, maybe then he could learn something from all this. 

Ahem. 

Suicide Cypher 

Bars by B. Wolf 

(Spit to the tune of Stan by Eminem) 

Dear Missus I’m too good to listen to my son 

Here’s my last pitch to you 

You can’t pass on this one 

Nah, I’m just playing, though 

I ain’t saying it’s your fault 

That’s on some bitch made shit 

That ain’t your boy at all 

He’s just tired, yo

This grind’s got him tripping

When’s a pimp ‘sposed to sleep? 

If you can’t ever let ‘em catch you slipping

I learned that shit from you, mom 

I took that shit to heart

But living up to it’s like this beat 

Shit go so fucking hard

So I’m gonna hit you with this fire 

‘Fore they pon me in the flames 

See you in hell, Hildy

Now say my mother fucking name

Okay. So much for learning something. But more than ever did he feel sorry for him. And as well for her. The feeling would prove to be fleeting.

[ace-disgrace-on-the-case]

Cybertober Day 3 - Surge

Day 3 of @gillyvor's month of prompts! I'm really enjoying myself with these.

Surge

Many of the less fortunate on Iskoron look up to the sky in search of hope. It’s a common dream to steal a ship, grab a crew of your best friends, and make a name for yourself among the stars. And Iskoron is a big planet; few people try for this dream, but enough dream it that some succeed.

When they do, they learn that the reality of living aboard a spacefaring vessel is rather unpleasant. Smal; vessels are only able to rotate smaller sections of the hull, leaving the crew mostly drifting in microgravity; large ones require almost too much fuel to be economical. Fresh food is a luxury none can afford—it takes up too much space. And when the glorious space duel they have been dreaming of finally comes, it is less a noble joust than a desperate scramble in the dirt between two groups of humans that very, very much do not belong where they are.

The engineer was quickly finding his least favorite part of shipboard living: something was always broken. Unfortunately, that meant he had to fix it.

Today’s job was a rather simple repair; the helmsman had drawn too much power for the prospecting sensors, creating a cascade surge that blew out a few fuses. All he had to do was trace the damaged circuits back to the source, replacing burnt out components along the way.

“Simple” as long as none of the components were outward-facing, that is. He grumbled, his breath fogging in his helmet. He was clinging to the rotating drum on the outside of the ship, replacing a tertiary sonar array with a non-combusted one. It was an old IMS product, angular and dirt-cheap; he was always shocked when he could get them to last longer than a month. It was almost as baffling that Pagoda kept buying them, or that the captain refused to slow the spin for the engineer’s safety. Something about the “delicate balance” of the mineral processing equipment—apparently something more important than preventing his current predicament of trying to fix a ship while also trying very hard not to throw up or fall off the rapidly spinning hull. A load of horseshit.

He sighed. At least it was better than the factories back home.

[anfeycare]

(i don't remember if i talked about it somewhere else, maybe i did, but anyways)

some infos and fun facts!

i said "vampire-like" 'cause my take on vampires is different enough from the popular idea of one, so they feel like almost an entirely different kind of being

on my take, they don't need to drink blood nor anything like that. they just need to have a strong bond with others to keep their health

one of these kinds of strong bonds can be love — any kind of love —, and this is often the kind of bond they end up having to stay healthy

but they can develop other kinds of strong bonds too (and it's complicated when it's one based on a negative feeling)

they can get a strong bond with one person only, and they can have more than one of these bonds too. Aket used to have one with both their parents

but they can't stay too far away from their mates — the beings they have strong bonds with. they start getting weaker when this happens, or when their mates faint or start to die. some vampires develop a couple strong bonds through conscious efforts to make sure they can care for each of their mates if any of them ever get to these states

they don't have that many mates usually. most have only two or three, but very few ones have a bunch of them, and there are a few ones that end up with such a strong bond with one single mate that they don't feel the need to have any others. they don't isolate from other beings, but they prefer to spend time with their one mate, and these vampires often don't mind the risk of dying when their mate is gone — although they can get deeply depressed when they're gone, which makes them more prone to it

they often seek mates who also are vampires to feel more sure they will have a mutual strong bond — for their own safety, and so that they will have someone more understanding and aware of the fact they'd need to be close to eachother when going to places. the stronger their bond with a mate is, the larger is the distance they can be away from them without starting to get weak

most times they look like young adults after they reach adulthood, but they can change their appearance to be older if they want to. their magic usually depends on who they are and/or how they feel. they can have lots of physical strength, be a lot lighter than they seem to be, and they can fly and have wings they can hide with magic or with a cape when they're too tired to use magic. they can try to make illusions, like seeing fog and figures or hearing sounds or feeling smells that aren't there, and they can try to control minds through staring into someone's eyes — but they often don't try to do any of those, so most of them even forgot they can. some have the ability to absorb other magical being's magic essence for themselves, however, the magic they get and develop from their strong bonds is often enough for them, so they'd only try to if they were being attacked by a magical being. they like to be under the moonlight, and they usually don't go outside during the day, but they don't have any problems with the sun, they just find it a bit annoying, and can only feel a nuisance from having it shining on their skin if they have some problem related to their health. they often have necklaces with pendants that indicate their state of self — which can include their emotions, their bonds, their interests, or their gender, besides other things. this often shows through colors that they associate with each state — sometimes they're aware of the associated colors, sometimes they aren't. they can use their magic to have painted details that change colors, such as nails, strands of hair, and the claw-like parts of their wings

(Aket usually has neon pink as their default, and it's both for their gender state — being neon pink for what we'd call non-binary — and for their queer attractions (platonic ones and tertiary ones included). they're genderfluid, so they change those colors for when they start identifying as what we'd call masc (neon orange) and for what we'd call fem (neon green). unlike their pendant that can change according to other states of self, they keep their other spots that change colors to show how they're identifying as at the moment, gender-wise; they don't mind their presentation, so they often dress in the same ways, but those color changes often come in handy for their acquaintances to know how to call them)

all those things said, my vampires don't need to bite! so they don't do that

… unless you ask for it ;)

"Aket"

a sketch of them my favorite vampire-like character from my project Besides Feelings; their name's Aket

i made this in October last year, but just a few minutes ago, i went and finally gave it the final touches

˙꒳˙ [cute face]