#I can’t be bothered to figure out the layout before jumping in to painting

[artie-dartie]

Late night studying.

[argylemnwrites]

Why Are We Still Waiting? - Chapter 3

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe)

Word Count: ~4900

Rating: PG-13 (brief language)

Summary: A trip to meet the newest Beaumont isn’t off to the greatest start.

Author’s Note: So, since it has been ages since I updated this story, I feel like a quick recap is in order. Drake and Riley are in Cordonia to meet Savannah and Bertrand’s new baby girl, Caroline. They just met Liam’s new girlfriend, Iris, and her innocent questions about their postponed wedding made it clear that Drake is very frustrated by the fact they aren’t married yet. To catch up/jog your memory fully on this series, you can check out the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment masterlist (link in bio).

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Drake groaned as Riley reached forward to start scanning across the radio stations.

“What?” she asked. He noticed her give a tiny shrug out of the corner of his eye as she leaned back after settling on a Greek Top 40 station.

“I knew it. I swear you pick this one just to annoy me, Liu.” Drake had made the mistake of complaining about this particular station on one of their first trips back to Cordonia, right before she’d gone back to university. It was all over-produced and sugary, and the DJs were just fucking obnoxious. Of course, that last point probably didn’t actually bother Riley, since she couldn’t understand a word they said.

“Maybe I just like this station.” 

Drake glanced over and took in the giant shit-eating grin plastered across her face and just rolled his eyes. “Uh huh, sure. Let’s ignore the fact that this station plays a ton of songs in Greek.”

“I’m just trying to broaden my cultural horizons.”

“Says the woman who refused to watch Parasite because it has subtitles.’”

“If I wanted to read something, I would pick up a book,” she said, but she did lean forward again to flip over to a different station. 

“Thank you,” Drake said, clicking on the turn signal as he switched into the right lane.

“You make it too easy sometimes,” she said, Drake noticing that she shrugged a little out of the corner of his eye. “If you didn’t act like that station was pure torture, I probably wouldn’t enjoy it so much.”

All Drake could do was shake his head. “You know, some people might not be so open about liking something out of spite.”

“No, it’s not spite.” Drake glanced over and raised his eyebrows at that, so Riley elaborated. “Spite is mean-spirited. I know you like my teasing too much for it to be spite.”

“Really.” Drake deadpanned, although he wasn’t able to hold back his grin and fully play along.

“Uh huh. What other explanation is there for you hanging around me after all these years?”

“I can’t think of a single one,” he said, earning him a flick of her fingers against his shoulder.

“Well I guess I will have to keep teasing you then. Otherwise I might have to settle for a guy who would have made me get up before six this morning.”

Drake looked over at her at that. Even after years together, her ability to jump from intensely sarcastic to gently sincere in an instant still amazed him. Last night, Maxwell had called and offered to pick them up from the palace after dropping off Mom and Aunt Leona at the airport, but they had a very early departure time. Drake had turned him down, feeling like it would be a shitty move to force Riley to wake up early on vacation, particularly since she never complained about using her limited vacation days to visit his family. Yet here she was, appreciative of his gesture that cost him nothing.

“Maybe I just didn’t want to spend two hours in the car with Maxwell.”

She let out a laugh at that. “Well, at least I rank as better company in your book.”

“Always, Liu. Always.”

“Seriously though, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Her left hand settled on his shoulder and gave him a little squeeze at that, but she didn’t say anything else, just glanced out the window as Drake turned off the main road and onto the smaller one that led to the Beaumont’s estate. Within a few minutes, they were pulling onto the driveway. As they climbed out of the car, they heard an excited little voice calling from the direction of the estate’s entrance. 

“Uncle Drake!”

Drake closed the driver’s door and pivoted around quickly, crouching down and extending his arms. Bartie ran across the drive and threw his little arms around Drake’s neck, laughing as Drake scooped him up and hugged him tightly. 

“We saw your car diving! I wanted to go out. Say ‘hi’ like Mommy or Daddy. Uncle Maxwell said I had to stay inside. Had to stand still ‘til you stopped,” Bartie rambled off, barely taking time to take a breath. 

“Thought that a little toddler darting in front of the car might not be the best start to your visit,” added Maxwell, strolling over to their car. “Hey, little blossom,” he added as he hugged Riley.

“Oh, you don’t get to just ‘little blossom’ me after you convinced Liam to keep me away!” she chuckled as she gave him a playful shove. “What happened to me being a Beaumont and always welcome here?”

“He told you guys?” Maxwell asked, turning to glance at Drake.

“Of course he did!” Riley said, drawing Maxwell’s attention back to her. She laughed a bit and shook her head before walking around the car to Drake and Bartie. “Hey, Bartie! Wow, you’ve gotten so big!” Drake passed Bartie over to her, watching as she gave him a squeeze, but Bartie started squirming in her arms, clearly wanting to be released from the obligatory hugs.

Riley placed him down, and he turned right back to Drake, grabbing his hand and tugging on it. “Uncle Drake, come see my new playhouse!” he said, attempting to drag Drake along after him as he started moving back towards the estate.

“Hey, my favorite dude, do you remember why Aunt Riley and Uncle Drake are here?” Maxwell said, crouching in front of Bartie. 

Bartie kicked his foot against the driveway before he answered. “Everyone wants to see Caroline. But she’s boring. She doesn’t do anything!”

Drake was trying to figure out the best way to deal with his nephew’s clear jealousy, but Riley stepped forward and bent down next to Maxwell. “I would love to see your playhouse, Bartie.”

“What do you say?” added Maxwell. “Why don’t we show Aunt Riley while Uncle Drake goes to see your mom and dad and sister?”

Bartie was silent for a few moments, but then nodded, grabbing Riley and Maxwell’s hands and heading inside without a glance back. Maxwell chuckled, twisted around, and called out to Drake, “You remember where the nursery is, right?”

Drake nodded and raised a hand in acknowledgment, taking the time to pop the trunk and grab their luggage before venturing inside himself. He went straight upstairs, pausing only to place their bags in their usual room, before heading down the hall, turning to the left and entering the private quarters, making his way to the small room located all the way towards the end of the hallway, the last door on the right.

It seemed like just yesterday he was building a crib in there for Bartie when Savannah was moving in. The room looked much the same, the walls still a pale grey, the furniture all pure white. The layout hadn’t changed much, with the crib placed against the far wall beneath a painting of stars shining over a lake with a squid waving a tentacle in the air, the changing table right next to it, and the dresser next to the rocking chair in the corner. The only thing that looked different, as far as Drake could remember, was the sheet tucked around the crib mattress. Back when this had been Bartie’s room, the sheets were covered in a variety of zoo animals, the only splash of color in the otherwise greyscale nursery. Now, they were a black and white check, much more subdued.

Laying in the center of the crib, wrapped tightly in a light pink blanket, was a sleeping baby. Drake didn’t have a lot of experience with infants, but even he had heard you never wake a sleeping baby, so he stepped further into the room carefully, trying not to make a sound. When he reached the crib, he couldn’t help but stare. This was Caroline. His niece.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, just taking her in, but eventually Savannah’s voice caught his attention.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s a bit creepy to just sneak into someone’s home and watch their child sleep?”

Drake turned his head to look over his shoulder. His sister was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, an eyebrow cocked. “Hey, Sav. Maxwell sent me up here.”

“I should have known,” she said, walking over to join him by the crib, wrapping an arm around his waist as she gave him a half-hug. “I see you’ve met Caroline.”

“She’s beautiful,” Drake said, looking down again at the little baby in the crib, a few fine brown hairs covering her head. His niece. She was so tiny. It was kind of overwhelming, seeing her like this. When he’d met Bartie, it had been such a total shock that he even existed. Plus, he had been so much older than this. “Congratulations.”

“You can pick her up, you know.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to disturb her.”

Savannah let out a few little chuckles. “She is the one who disturbs everyone most of the time. Besides, she’s just about due for a feeding.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, Drake. Just go wash your hands, and then you can hold her.”

And so a minute later, Drake found himself being handed his niece, so small and fragile-seeming. “Is this okay?” he asked, trying to make sure he walked the fine line between being gentle and holding her firmly as he tucked her against his chest.

“You aren’t going to hurt her!” Savannah laughed out.

“I just… I’ve never held a baby this little before. I don’t want to mess this up,” Drake said. Caroline felt so light in his arms. She was blinking, slowly becoming more alert after being shifted from her crib. Her bluish-grey eyes finally seemed to lock on his. “Hey, Caroline,” he said, “I’m your Uncle Drake.” But before he could think of anything else to say, she opened her mouth and let out a piercing wail.

Drake glanced over at Savannah. “What do I do?”

She laughed again. “God, what is Riley going to do with you when it’s your kid? She’s a baby, not an alien. She’s either hungry, sleepy, or has a dirty diaper.” But before she could poke fun at him any further, she reached over and shifted Caroline into her arms. “And since she’s hungry, I’m really the only one who can handle that.”

“Oh, do you want privacy or should I…”

Savannah shrugged. “I use a nursing blanket since Barthelemy walked in on me and made things real awkward.” And with that she settled onto the rocking chair, adjusting her top, positioning Caroline, then tugging a little cover over herself.

“What did Barthelemy do?” Drake asked as he moved to the side wall, leaning against it.

“Just acted real weird about the whole thing, talked to Bert about reminding me how a duchess should comport herself.”

“What a jackass.”

Savannah let out a sigh. “Bertrand was very apologetic when he relayed the message. But using a nursing blanket is not a big deal, and if it makes things easier for Bert with his dad…” She trailed off, staring down at Caroline, reaching under the nursing blanket to adjust something before she spoke again. “Having him around here has not exactly been some big happy family. I don’t know if his illness changed him, or if my memories of him were just fuzzy, but he’s an odd duck.”

Drake glanced over to the doorway. “Uhh, Sav. Not that I care, but the door is wide open and-”

She laughed and shook her head. “He’s at his rehab and physical therapy appointment this morning.”

“Ahh, gotcha. Any more talk of him trying to regain the title of duke?” Back when Barthelemy had returned to the estate, Sav had confided that it seemed like he was hinting that Bertrand should renounce his title and return it to his father. But since their wedding, it had seemed like most of that talk had died.

“No, he and Godfrey laid on the pressure after the honeymoon, but as soon as we announced the pregnancy, he backed off. His new mission seems to be to convince Liam that either Bartie or Caroline should be appointed as heir to the throne, which is crazy to think about, but it keeps him busy, so…” Savannah tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrows, letting the thought just hang there in the room. 

Drake was bothered by the implications of that statement, but he knew that pressing Savannah on it would not really get him anywhere. As inappropriate and concerning as he found the implication that Savannah and Bertrand weren’t shutting Barthelemy down completely with that shit, he knew voicing his objections now would not solve anything. Discussing this all with Liam would make much more sense. So he just filed the statement away and moved to change the subject.

“Is it easier this time around, knowing what you are doing?”

Savannah smiled before glancing down at Caroline. “I think it’s more that I have a support system. And yes, I know it was my choice to not have one before,” she added before Drake could interject. “I guess in some ways at least I know what to expect, but Caroline is way more cranky than Bartie was at this age. Besides, I don’t think any parent ever really feels like they know what they are doing.”

“Nah, you seem to have it down.”

“It’s just a lot of trial and error. You’ll see when you guys have a baby.”

Drake ran his hand across his jaw, glancing down and watching his toes nudge into the baseboard. “I have a feeling that’s gonna be a while for us.”

“Oh come on! Don’t you want your kids to grow up with their cousins?”

Drake swallowed before taking a breath. “Of course I do.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Well, getting married to start.” Shit. “Not that I think people have to be married to raise a kid or-”

“Relax, Drake,” Savannah said, cutting off his apologetic ramble. “It’s not like Bartie was a planned pregnancy.”

“Neither was Caroline,” he thought, but kept his mouth shut, not wanting to risk offending his sister or make her feel like he was judging her and her family. 

“I know you have an old-fashioned streak-”

“Hey!” Drake interjected, but Savannah just kept on going.

“-but I think you guys should think about having kids soon. You were going to be married by now anyway! And isn’t that the modern, New York thing to do?”

Drake didn’t know where all this was coming from. Why she was so insistent about something that didn’t involve her. But man, he wished she would move on to any other topic of conversation. Because what could he say? That he was ready to be married with kids? That he would have no problem starting a family with Riley tomorrow? He couldn’t share that with his sister, at least not without sharing things about Riley he was pretty confident she would never want Savannah to know.

The fact that she had decided on a birth control option that would last for three years made it pretty clear where her head was at with the whole kid thing. She wasn’t really ready, not by a long shot. And until she was ready, there was really nothing he could do about it. Drake was just going to have to wait until she felt like the time was right, whenever that might be.

Maybe it was just that he was four years older than her. Maybe that’s why he felt so ready to take those next steps when she seemed so unbothered, so willing to just roll along. And to be fair, it’s not like they were ever going to be a couple like Hana and Catherine, who had timelines and life plans and five year goals. But deep down, Drake couldn’t help but wonder why Riley seemed so ambivalent about them getting married and starting a family. Was she unsure about something in their relationship, unsure about something with him?

It’s not that she didn’t want kids ever, as far as he knew. She’d mentioned wanting kids before. And they’d planned that first wedding without issue. But now it seemed like she was stuck. No rush to get married. Not thinking about having kids for years. And Drake didn’t know how to approach the whole topic without seeming like he was demanding things. Putting pressure on her. He was happy. They were happy. It was something his younger self would have never thought possible, and it should definitely be enough. But maybe he was selfish, because there were times where it just didn’t feel like enough.

Maybe it would be helpful to talk to someone about this, but that would feel like violating Riley’s trust. He knew Riley had her therapist she talked to, and he was sure their relationship was a topic of conversation there, but that was different. The therapist wasn’t someone who knew Drake, who was his friend or family. Anyone Drake would feel comfortable talking about this with knew Riley. Knew her well, quite frankly. 

So for now, he was just going to have to keep moving forward. Keep hoping that Riley would start to feel ready soon. And at the moment, that meant sidestepping his sister’s questions and prodding.

“Geez, Sav! We haven’t even been here for an hour, and you are laying it on really thick.”

“Sorry, sorry! I know it’s not my business! If it makes you feel better, it’s not just with you. Kiara also told me I needed to back off when I started asking her about when she and Oliver were going to have kids right after their wedding.”

“Wait, when did Kiara get married?”

“Oh, Drake! At least you have an excuse for not knowing all the news now that you live abroad.” she said, shaking her head. “They eloped maybe… four months ago?”

And then Savannah was off, filling Drake in on tons of gossip he didn’t give two shits about. But it made her happy, and it was a safe topic of conversation, so who was he to complain?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Riley sat crossed legged on the floor in Bartie’s room at a little table, Maxwell seated across from her. Meanwhile, Bartie was hard at work at his toy kitchen set, organizing pieces of plastic food on plates. He wanted to show off and make “lunch” for them. Riley supposed that this was probably a common way for a three and a half year old to want to play, not that she had any such memories from her own childhood. What wasn’t common, she was sure, was the formal table setting Bartie had carefully placed in front of each of them, the perfectly pressed white apron he’d asked Maxwell to help him tie on, or the fact that he was arranging his plastic lettuce, eggs, and meat on actual china.

“Looks excellent, my favorite dude,” said Maxwell as Bartie carefully carried over several plates to the table. “What’s on the menu?”

“Steak tartare with a fresh greens salad,” he said before turning and heading back towards his little kitchen.

“Wait, aren’t you going to join us?” asked Riley, trying to keep from bursting out in laughter at the thought of a preschooler preparing such a meal.

“Aunt Riley, no aprons at the table!” he said his eyes wide as he turned back to face her.

“Yeah, come on Aunt Riley, where are your manners?” Maxwell winked before twisting to look over at Bartie. “You need any help untying your apron there?”

“No, I can do it,” Bartie ground out, tugging on the ties without much luck.

“Okay, well I’m right here if you do need help,” Maxwell responded. Within five seconds, Bartie was back, standing right next to him.

“Thanks, Uncle Maxwell!” he said, happily pulling the apron off and jogging over to hang it up nicely once Maxwell had it untied.

“You’re working hard to maintain your title as best uncle.” Riley said.

“Every time you guys come to visit, he suddenly wants to go fishing and camping instead of having dance parties with me.”

Riley laughed at that. “We’re new and exciting, what can I say.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re the favorite aunt by default.”

“What does default mean?” asked Bartie, plopping down on the floor next to them.

“It means no other choices, dude.”

“Oh,” Bartie said, nodding before picking up his silverware, pretending to cut into the plastic in front of him with surprising coordination.

“So has Uncle Maxwell been hanging out with you a lot since your sister came home?”

Bartie shrugged. “I guess.”

“We’ve definitely been seeing some jealousy,” Maxwell said with a nod. “I kind of thought this might happen, so I made sure to clear my schedule for a handful of weeks around the due date.”

“That was thoughtful of you.”

Maxwell tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Hey, I’m favorite uncle for a reason.”

“Uncle Drake is my favorite,” said Bartie, causing Riley to burst out laughing.

“Dude, that wasn’t the deal! You’re gonna pay for this,” Maxwell said, leaning over and wiggling his fingers. “The squid’s about to attack.” With that, Maxwell started tickling Bartie, triggering wild giggles and Bartie rolling backwards on the floor.

“Bartie!” Bertrand’s voice cut across the room. Riley twisted over to find him standing in the hallway, his eyes scanning over the scene in front of him. “We don’t make our guests sit on the floor, do we?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Bertrand, it’s fine-” Riley started, but he held up a hand, cutting her off.

“What do we say, Bartie?”

“Sorry, Aunt Riley.”

All Riley could do was nod, accepting an apology from a toddler that felt entirely unnecessary.

“Good,” said Bertrand, “Now go wash your hands and get cleaned up for lunch.”

Bartie scampered out of the room, turning to his left in the hallway.

“I offered to play with him, Bertrand.”

“Well, he was told that you were coming to visit Caroline. He should have known better than to monopolize your time.”

Riley opened her mouth, ready to respond, but Maxwell grabbed her wrist and shook his head. 

“How are you, by the way? I apologize for not being there to greet you and Drake.”

“I’m good, Bertrand,” she said as she pushed herself up on her feet, walking over and giving him a loose hug. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Yes, thank you. Drake and Savannah have Caroline in the private lounge if you want to go meet her. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check and make sure Bartie isn’t making a complete mess in the bathroom.”

And with that, Bertrand was off, following the path down the hallway that his son had just taken.

“Yikes,” said Riley as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Yeah, I know,” replied Maxwell, looping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her in the opposite direction. “That is another reason I made sure I didn’t have any need to be on set or in LA for any writers meetings for a few months.”

“He’s more of a tight ass than ever.”

“I think he’s very anxious because he missed this part of Bartie’s life. The amount of research he did and the number of parenting books he read is insane. But any time any little thing isn’t what he expects, he flips out.”

“What does Savannah think about that?” Riley asked, following Maxwell down the stairs.

“Either she’s too sleep deprived to notice, or she’s just pretending not to see it. I decided to give him two months to settle into things. If he’s still snapping at everyone then, well… I guess I’ll have to stage an intervention or something.”

“Wow. Well at least you’re here to look out for the kid.”

“Yup, figure I can keep things normal-ish for him. Though I will say between watching Bertrand spiral and hearing Caroline’s shrieks, any faint consideration I might have given to parenthood has gone straight out the window.”

Riley laughed, prompting Maxwell to keep going. “I’m serious! I know I told you I was pretty sure I was good being the fun uncle, but these past few weeks have really locked in that decision. Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but Bartie is right - Caroline is boring. And loud. And I am so glad she is not my responsibility.”

All Riley could do was laugh more. “Do you need me to make up an excuse for you so you don’t need to be in the same room with her?”

Maxwell nudged her with his shoulder. “Oh, laugh it up! I don’t have any issues with her. She just confirmed that fatherhood is not for me, no matter how cute she is when she isn’t screaming her head off.”

At that point, they entered the lounge, so Riley dropped any further teasing she had for Maxwell. “Hey, Savannah. Congrats!” she said, walking across the room and giving her a hug.

“Thank you, Riley. It’s so good to see you!” Savannah replied as they pulled apart. Riley moved to sit down next to Drake on the couch, who was cradling a baby against his shoulder.

“This must be Caroline,” she said, watching as Drake tapped his hand against her back lightly.

“Either that or I have a lot of explaining to do,” Drake said, glancing over at her. Riley just smiled and nudged him lightly with her elbow.

“Drake, why don’t you let Riley hold her?” Savannah asked. “She should get to meet her aunt, too.”

“Do you want to?” Drake asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Of course,” said Riley, reaching over and helping him peel the tiny little girl off his chest, nestling her into her own arms.

Caroline was awake, her eyes roving around as Riley shifted back onto the couch more fully to try and get comfortable. After a few seconds, they seemed to settle on Riley’s face. All she could really do was stare back, taking in this child, this baby girl who might not have been planned, but would certainly be loved by so many.

“Yeah, I know I’m a stranger right now. But in a couple of decades, I’ll be the one you come to when you want nightclub recommendations in New York City.”

“Hey, I want in on that invite,” said Maxwell as Savannah let out a few chuckles. Riley glanced over at Drake, expecting him to be rolling his eyes or shaking his head, but instead was caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. He was staring at her holding Caroline with such passion, such longing, she felt almost exposed. All she could think to do was drop her eyes back to the baby, not wanting to dwell on what that meant at that moment.

Unfortunately, Savannah must have noticed Drake as well, because she said, “Oh, I see that look. ‘A while’ my ass. I bet you’ll be pregnant by the end of the year.”

Drake let out a sort of sputtering cough at his sister’s comment, but before he could say anything, could so much as get a word out, Riley felt her own mouth opening. Her own response spilled out so glibly, without a second of thought. It was almost like she heard someone else saying the words, even as she knew she was the one speaking.

“Don’t give him any ideas.”

She felt Drake stiffen beside her, saw Maxwell shifting in his seat, and heard Savannah mutter out a little apology, but all of that was just background noise as her brain screamed at her. How could she have been so fucking stupid? What possessed her to say that? Or at least to phrase it like that? There were ways to shut down Savannah’s prying without implying that Drake had baby fever and she wanted no part of it.

The uncomfortable silence in the room was broken as Bertrand and Bartie entered. “Lunch is ready in the dining room,” said Bertrand, gesturing to the door behind him. Bertrand then stepped over to Riley. “I can go put her down,” he said, gesturing at his daughter still in Riley’s arms.

“Oh, sure thing,” said Riley, passing him Caroline before standing up. Savannah, Maxwell, and Bartie had already left the room, but Drake was still seated, his eyes locked on his knee that was bouncing up and down.

“Drake, I-” she started as soon as Bertrand had stepped out, extending her hand to help him to his feet. But Drake ignored the gesture, pushing his hands into the cushions of the couch instead.

“I’m hungry. Let’s just go eat, Riley.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-.”

“It’s fine, Riley, Really. We can talk later” He nodded at her and started walking towards the door, leaving Riley to follow after him. And more than the brush off, more than his refusal to hold her hand, the fact that he’d not called her ‘Liu’ let her know that she had made a huge fucking mess.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @twinkleallnight @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff  

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know  @iplaydrake

ICWAM: @thequeenofpixels @sunnyxdazed @sammie0220​

[beelsnack]

Hiya! I saw ur post about u being stressed at work so please take ur time with this request! There's no rush! Ur wellbeing is more important 💖 But when you get the time how about some headcanons for an MC who is very cute and naive but got teased for being so at RAD so they try to dress "cool" and pretend to be all badass but their tough persona just makes the demon brothers uwu even more cuz they think it's adorable how hard they're trying

Ah, thank you for being patient, Nonnie! I hope this was worth the wait!

I realized a bit too late that I may have misinterpreted your request a little, but I hope it turned out alright anyway. ^^

-----

Lucifer: “Careful, my dear, your face may get stuck like that.”

When the human turned around to greet him, they had their normal cheerful grin on their face. However, Lucifer watched as their expression turned surprised, then frustrated before they managed to school it back into the hilariously deep frown they had been forcing all day.

“Would you mind telling me why you’re making that ridiculous face?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” They fell into step beside him. Even though they had pretty much figured out the layout of RAD, Lucifer insisted on walking with them to the Student Council Chambers. At first, it was just to make sure they didn’t accidentally end up in the torture chambers in the lower levels, but now he genuinely enjoyed the few moments they had alone together. Hearing them chatter on about their day lifted his mood exponentially.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Lucifer inclined his head. “Force that scowl for much longer and you might pull a facial muscle.”

They wavered for a second before sighing. “Did it really look that bad?”

“It was quite an unnatural look for you.” he replied, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Would you mind telling me just what you were trying to do?”

“...Some demons in my class told me I smiled too much.” they admitted. “So I was trying to...not?”

Lucifer paused, regarding them with a raised eyebrow. “What in the Three Realms does ‘smiling too much’ mean?”

“I’m...not sure honestly,” they shrugged.

“My dear,” he stopped in front of them, placing his hands on their shoulders. “I don’t particularly care what those other demons think or want, but I will not have you depriving me of your beautiful smile.”

Mammon: That was his jacket.

It was way too big on them, making them look even smaller than they already did. It was also very clearly not part of the RAD uniform - not that any of the brothers wore their uniforms correctly, but the human was usually pretty up to code with theirs.

He caught up to them in a few steps and grabbed onto the collar of their - his - jacket. “Hey, human! Just what do you think you’re doing?”

They squeaked in surprise, and for a moment Mammon was caught off guard by how unbearably adorable it was. When they turned around, they were grinning sheepishly at him.

“H-hi Mammon.”

Oof. Honestly, he did not anticipate how seeing them wearing his clothes was going to affect him. The sleeves came down to their knuckles, and they had curled their fingers around the cuffs almost instinctively, It was too cute, he felt like his heart was trying to smash through his ribcage.

“You - you got a whole lotta nerve, stealing from the Great Mammon.” he released their collar, they both continued walking, although he had completely forgotten that his class was in the complete opposite direction.

“You left it in my room, though.”

“Doesn’t explain why you’re wearin’ it!”

“I’m sorry.” they sighed, beginning to shrug the jacket off of their shoulders. “Some demons were picking on me, so I thought they would leave me alone if I dressed a bit tougher. It didn’t work anyway, so I’ll give it back now.”

They were just about to yank their arms out of the sleeves when Mammon shook his head.

“Keep it, if it makes you feel better.” he definitely wasn’t blushing, nope, not even a little bit. “I’ve got others, so just accept the Great Mammon’s generosity.”

Leviathan: “Please tell me you didn’t pay a stupid amount of cash for those.”

The human frowned up at Levi, putting a hand over their new headphones almost protectively. “I paid a perfectly reasonable amount!”

“I wouldn’t pay anything for those,” he frowned. “The manufacturers would have to pay me, actually.”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” they huffed. “I just bought them so people would stop talking about me when they think I’m listening.”

Levi tilted his head. “Huh?”

The human sighed, playing idly with the cord of the headphones. “Some demons in my Curses class like to freak me out by saying how yummy I look when they catch my eye. I kind of hoped that they would stop if they weren’t getting a rise out of me.”

A white-hot surge of protectiveness crashed over him as the human curled in on themself. He might have been a giant otaku, but he would be damned if he let anything happen to his best friend. Well, more damned than he already was, anyway.

“You should have just said something,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have an old pair you can have. They still work fine, but they released a limited-edition Ruri-chan version and obviously I have to rep my waifu so I’ve been using those - “

Satan: “Can I ask you something?”

The two of them were on their way to the RAD’s library. Satan honestly didn’t need to study, but the human definitely did, and using an academic excuse meant that Lucifer was more likely to leave the two of them alone.

“Of course,” Satan held the door open for them. Without even bothering to look, he began walking over to the table that had basically become their territory. Even if there were other demons there, they would probably scamper off.

“How do you get people to be afraid of you?”

Satan paused, raising an eyebrow in an expression that definitely did not make him look strikingly like Lucifer. “Me specifically?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, being the Avatar of Wrath gives me a leg up.”

The human scowled. “Damn it.”

“Why would you want people to be afraid of you?” Satan asked as they sat down. Up until this point, the human’s modus operandi was being so sweet that nobody ever wanted to hurt them, so the threatening angle was a complete 180.

“Some demons in class were making comments about me being dessert.” they mumbled, taking out their textbooks before slinging their bag over the back of the chair. “I honestly couldn’t tell if they were talking about my personality or my flesh, so…”

“Okay, first of all,” Satan leaned forward on his elbows. “We kill them.”

“Satan, no.”

Asmodeus: “Oh, darling, what have you done to yourself?”

They really needed to get a “Do Not Disturb” sign or something. Not that it would stop anything, but still.

Asmo at least had the decency to shut the door behind him, but that was as far as it went. He was openly staring at them, doing his best impression of the Scream painting.

“The makeup tutorial made this look so much easier.” they sighed, leaning back in their chair.

“They always do,” Asmo came over behind them, placing his hands on their shoulders as he leaned down to look at their laptop screen. “Never trust the ones on Sinterest.”

Their final product looked nothing like the model on the screen. The wings of their eyeliner were crooked, and one eye was longer than the other. The contouring made them look like a clown, and somehow they had gotten black eyeshadow on their nose.

“That’s quite the change of pace for you, darling.” Asmo commented, “It’s a look, but why the sudden switch?”

The human remained silent, their bottom lip quivering in a way that made Asmo want to gathering them up in a blanket. Eventually, they sighed again.

“All the succubi look so cool, and I always look...” they paused. “Human.”

“Darling, I don’t know how to break this to you - “

“I know, I know.” they grumbled. “I just wanted to look badass for once!”

The puppy-dog pout they had going on wasn’t doing anything for that particular look, but Asmo decided to keep that comment to himself. Instead, he spun them around, hands still on their shoulders. “Now, now, don’t make that face. Let’s see if we can’t fix this up a little, hm?”

Beelzebub: “What are you doing?”

He hadn’t meant to scare them, but they jumped like he had jumped from the ceiling. The yelp they let out made him feel guilty. Maybe Mammon was right when he said that Beel was disturbingly sneaky for someone his size.

Usually the gym was empty when he came for his morning workout, so seeing the human seated on the workout bench was a definite surprise. Not a bad one though.

“Beel!” the set the weight down. “Um…g-good morning…?”

“Morning,” he replied, making his way over to where they were situated. “You’re not usually one to workout, much less this early in the morning.”

“I, uh…” they stammered. “I wanted to get a little stronger, is all.”

“Not that I’m going to stop you,” he set his gym bag down next to the weight rack. “But why?”

They grumbled under their breath, but eventually sighed. “Some demons at RAD told me I looked chewy.”

“I mean, you kind of do.”

“Hey!”

“All humans look chewy, though.” he shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing. But you want to build up some muscle, right?”

They pouted, and Beel really wanted to reach out and pat them on the head. Instead, he sat next to them on the bench and handed them the weight they had been using.

“Okay, so you want to hold it like this…”

Belphegor: “You had a funny dream last night.”

They had learned from experience that telling Belphie to stop invading their privacy by watching their dreams did exactly fuck all, so they just huffed in annoyance as he flopped against their shoulder. “It wasn’t funny.”

“Amusing, then.”

“For you, maybe.”

They felt him smirk against their shoulder. “You really think a leather jacket and sunglasses will make demons think you’re tough?”

“More than skipping around with flowers in my hair would.”

“I think you would look cute with flowers in your hair. Let’s take some black roses from Diavolo’s garden.”

“Aren’t those poisonous?”

Belphie shifted, nuzzling into their neck as the professor walked in. “It’ll help with the tough image.”

“For about 4 hours until I start foaming at the mouth.” they folded their arms, jostling Belphie from their shoulder.

The demon laughed, pillowing his head in his arms as he leaned forward onto the desk. “I like how you are now. If someone starts giving you trouble, I’ll kill them for you.”

“No cannibalism, please.”

“That’s more Beel’s territory.”

[juliandev0rak]

Magic 🔥

Three: Magic – talk about their magic, when did they discover it? Did they have to learn how to use it or did it come naturally?

echoes of the past event

@arcana-echoes

Aster, she/ they

Nopal

Starts 19 years before the events of The Arcana, ends around 11 years before the events of The Arcana, Aster starts age 5, ends age 13

Words: 1540

Warnings: angst, mention of background character death, mention of an injury (someone gets set on fire, they don’t die but they do get hurt) 

Aster remembers the day vividly despite all of her missing memories. She may have forgotten her family's faces and names, but she can remember the day she lost them, and the day she found her magic.

She’d been staying at her grandmother’s house while her parents were away, a routine trip to the larger market a few towns over. She doesn’t remember what her grandmother looked like, but she can remember the house, small but full of curious looking nick-nacks that Aster was never allowed to touch. She can trace the layout of the house like the back of her hand, the line of the pink-painted hallway that curved towards the sunny bedroom she always stayed in.  

Things had been so normal that morning until there was a knock on the door, some man she didn't know asking for her grandmother. She remembers the Nopal sun, scorching hot as it streamed in through the open door. 

The events are a little hazy after that, she remembers that her Grandma told her to go play outside. She knew something was wrong, but she went outside without complaint. 

It’s the middle of summer, and too hot to be outside, so Aster takes refuge under the old mesquite tree in the front yard, enjoying the cool spot of shade. A flash of color to her left catches her eye and she turns to see a brightly colored salamander sitting on a rock next to her.

“Hi little lizard thingy!” She says, reaching out for it. She’s surprised when it immediately jumps off the rock it’s perched on and runs away. She rises from her spot on the ground and gives chase, the bright orange salamander easy to spot against the tan landscape. Her bare feet burn against the hot sand but she doesn’t flinch, the heat’s never bothered her. Finally, she corners the salamander against the edge of the neighbor’s house.

“There you are lizard!” She shouts, once again reaching for the cornered animal. This time she’s shocked as it bursts into flames in front of her. Aster takes a step back, then a step closer, inspecting the flaming salamander. “How did you do that!”

The salamander seems to regard her, the flames dying out as it registers that the girl means no harm. She reaches out for it again and it bursts into warning flames, but she keeps reaching, picking it up without registering the pain of the fire. In fact, it doesn’t hurt at all. The salamander’s flames are ticklish and she giggles at the sensation as the salamander sticks its tongue out at her.

“Can I do that?” Aster frowns slightly, putting the salamander down to stretch her hands out in front of her. Her eyes scrunch closed and she tries to will heat into her hands, thinking of the hot sun overhead and the sand beneath her. She pictures the salamander bursting into flames and begins to feel a tingle in her fingertips. She’s as focused as a five year old can be, her hands stretched out as far as they can reach, but her focus is broken by the salamander squeaking in alarm.

Her eyes open to see that the cactus in front of her is in flames. She turns to the salamander and smiles gleefully,  “Did I do that?” the salamander squeaks again in assent. 

“I did it, I did it! Let’s go tell Grandma!” She scoops up the salamander and rushes back home, the cactus still flaming behind her.

“Grandma! I set a cactus on fire!” Aster squeals, holding the salamander up who gives another happy squeak. Her grandmother turns to her with watery eyes, not giving comment on the cactus fire.

“Aster, put that salamander outside and come sit down. We need to talk.” She says sternly, her tone immediately making Aster nervous. She opens the door as if to let the salamander out but slips it into her pants pocket instead, giving it a whispered “shh” to warn it to behave.

“Aster, sweetie, there’s been an accident…”

At that moment everything Aster had ever known was ripped from her. Her parents weren’t coming back from their trip, they weren’t coming back ever. 

Aster’s grandmother had been sick for years, she couldn’t take care of a child on her own. Certainly not on top of her grief at losing her son and daughter in law, and especially not after Aster’s revealed that she can set things on fire with her mind. So, she’s quickly shipped off to a distant family friend in the city, someone Aster had never even met.

When Aster arrives at the friend’s house she’s greeted by a woman with bright purple hair and a pointy witch's hat. The woman tells Aster to call her “Auntie” but all Aster wants to do is cry. She spends the first few weeks setting things on fire a lot, she doesn't mean to do it but now whenever she thinks of fire she can’t help it. The first time it happens she’s terrified. She wakes up from a nightmare to her bed covered in flames, too scared to even scream. Luckily the flames once again do her no harm.

Her aunt runs in to put the fire out, but she isn’t angry as Aster had feared, she’s excited. From then on Aster practices her magic every day, trying to learn to contain it. The salamander takes up residence inside the stove, choosing to ignore the people who live in the house and the chaos they create for the most part.

As the years pass Aster get’s better at magic, but try as she might she can’t keep it entirely under control. When she’s emotional, which she often is, the fire bursts out of her and she has to remember to breathe and calm down enough to stop the fire. But fire is unpredictable, and so is Aster. It’s a dangerous combination.

Countless furniture items are burnt beyond repair, the sleeves of Aster’s shirts are always singed, and sometimes even people get hurt. Her aunt owns a shop downstairs, and as Aster gets older she gets to help. Most of her tasks are prepping potion ingredients, which Aster finds incredibly boring. Sometimes she’s impatient and wants to finish her tasks early so she’ll use her fire to cook ingredients rather than waiting for water to boil. It usually works fine, but on a busy summer day, it has dire consequences.

Aster is using a handful of fire to heat valerian for a sleeping potion, it works best boiled but she figures that what her aunt doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Just as she’s about to put the flame out a man comes over to ask her a question about one of the potions. When she can’t answer quickly enough, focused on trying to stop the fire in her hand, he gets rude and begins yelling at her about her “poor customer service”. 

She can’t help it, the flame in her hand rises from a tiny spark to a blaze as the rude customer continues to berate her. He doesn’t seem to notice as the flame bursts out of her hand and catches on the sleeve of his coat, not until the fire spreads up his arm.

He yells, not immune to Aster’s fire, and she immediately snaps out of it and tries frantically to put the fire out as it spreads. Her aunt finally realizes something is wrong and runs over to put the fire out, but not before it’s eaten through the fabric of the man’s clothing and left a violent looking burn. He runs out of the shop before her aunt can offer to heal it and the few people left in the store turn to fearfully glance at Aster before they run out too.

“I didn’t mean to-” she chokes out, staring at her hands which still glow faintly. She’s biting her lip, trying hard to keep the tears at bay.  

“I know, Aster, but you did. You could have killed him.” Her aunt frowns, reaching for Aster’s hand. “You have to get this under control, you can’t keep exploding like this.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t even do magic anymore.” She yanks her hand away and starts to clear up the potion ingredients so she doesn’t have to look at her aunt’s pity filled expression.

“I don’t think you’d be able to stop if you tried.” Her aunt says gently, “You’ll be able to control it someday, I’ll help you.”

“I didn’t mean to set that man on fire.” Aster says again, hoping her aunt believes her. She makes impulsive decisions and loses her temper sometimes, but she would never mean to hurt someone like that on purpose.

“He was an asshole, at least it got him out of the store.” Her aunt jokes and Aster’s eyes fly up to see if she’s serious.

“So you mean I should set more customers on fire?” Aster smiles, glad for the joke to break the tense moment.

“Only if they’re rude, we have to be able to afford food somehow.” Her aunt laughs, ruffling Aster’s hair. “Now come on, let’s see you practice the most difficult magic of all- putting the kettle on for some tea.”

[mimzy-writing-online]

Writing Blind or Visually Impaired Characters: Narrative

Before I get started, I want to refer you back to part one of this post which covers how to craft your blind character. The reason for this referral is because it involves determining what caused your character to go blind and what they see themselves. What your blind or visually impaired character is capable of seeing is crazy important to what kind of narrative you’re using.

Link to the Master Post: https://mimzy-writing-online.tumblr.com/post/185122795699/writing-a-blind-or-visually-impaired-character

Link to Part One, Crafting your Character: https://mimzy-writing-online.tumblr.com/post/185123396964/writing-a-blind-or-visually-impaired-character

Every post I make about writing blind characters, both now and future, will be tagged #blindcharacter on my blog. Follow this blog for more writing advice.

Disclaimer: I have been visually impaired for the last two years of my life, and I have written with two blind characters, using specifically their first person POV, so this is really getting into my experience there. This will also involve some real life experience and memories that I, a visually impaired person, have.

Narrative Choice

If your character is the main character than you have to make the choice between writing in first person and writing in third person. If you character is a secondary character or a background character, narrative choice won’t be as important, but you still need to be aware of what they can see in a particular moment and scene because it will affect how they act in that moment.

First Person

I personally think writing a blind character in first person is always the ideal. This allows your readers to inhabit the character and see what they see, or don’t see. Readers want to temporarily experience someone else’s life, and if they’re reading a story with a blind main character then they want to experience that person’s life fully.

There are drawbacks. You have to work in terms of what your character can and cannot perceive. That can make scene description hard (I will include tips for that down below) and it can be easy to slip up and forget that your character shouldn’t be able to see the color of someone’s eye, their smile, a passing street sign, the color of a gifted scarf. You have to learn to work inside their limits. If there are places you mess up and accidentally write them perceiving too much with their sight, then all you need to do is edit.

Again, there will be narrative tips for first person down below.

Third Person

The drawback to third person is the inability to inhabit the life of your character. It’s much easier to slip up and include things your character shouldn’t be able to see. Your readers will probably forget how blind your character is if they read pages and pages with great visual description and then be surprised when your character verbally remarks that they didn’t see X and Y and Z. You still have to work with what your character can realistically see and it’s much easier to forget if you’re watching their life from a bird’s eye view instead of through their eyes.

Third person is something I would recommend if it is your preferred writing style and you struggle with first person. I would still recommend at least trying first person before you nix the idea.

Again, narrative choice isn’t as crucial if your blind character isn’t your main character.

Describing the Visual World through your Blind Character in First Person

This is where thoroughly visualizing what your character can and cannot see because hugely important. Even if your character only has light and shadow perception left, there are plenty of ways to give visuals to your character’s world.

Some of this might even sound like cheating.

Depending on how old your character was when they went blind, they may still remember what it was like to have sight. Yes, this sounds like cheating, but it’s very possible that your character might remember what their home, neighborhood, friends, and family look like. However they may eventually forget and that depends largely on time. I’m jumping back to Molly Burke real quick. 

Her YouTube channel here (since it’s the first mention of her in this specific part of the post): https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCwf9TcLyS5KDoLRLjke41Hg

Molly lost most of her vision when she was 14, but before that she did see colors and nature and what her family looked like (she was always legally blind though, since birth) but Molly is 25 now and it’s been ten years now since she lost the rest of her vision. She doesn’t remember what colors look like or what certain animals look like now because she hasn’t seen them in 10 years. She knows which colors look nice together, but that’s from years of social learning, people saying what colors they think look good together and which colors clash. So if it’s been a long time since your character lost their vision, or if they moved away from the town they grew up in, they probably don’t have any visual memory to use.

Your readers will create their own scenery automatically. They already do with sighted narrators. No matter how thoroughly you describe a room or a house or a beach they will always see it with their mind, and their mind will always use the things they know to see. (I personally use layouts of houses I’ve been to before when reading a book with a character who lives in a house, and same with apartments that I’ve been in, and my mind’s picture is never identical to the writer’s but that can’t be helped.)

So your readers know what a suburban neighborhood looks like. They know what a beach looks like, or a forest, or a meadow of flowers, or a late fall afternoon looks like. They know what schools, hospitals, department stores, and restaurants look like. Their brains will automatically fill in the narrative gaps with the details that belong there, you just have to tell them where they are, or where the character understands themselves to be.

A trick for triggering the right mental picture in just a few words: Use location, mood, time of day, how crowded it is, and aesthetic. A quiet and peaceful beach versus a crowded beach littered with trash. Two different settings, but described in only a few words. A modern, busy coffee shop versus a relaxed hipster coffee shop. Loud nightclub? Smokey jazz lounge? Dark dive bar? Dingy public bathroom? Clean, modern bathroom? They all invoke different images in your head based on past experiences you’ve had but I only used a few words for each location.

Unless you’re like me and have absolutely no experience with nightclubs and have no idea what they’re like because you’re not about that life, so whatever you picture is based off Oliver Queen’s bar on Arrow because you’ve seen enough clips of it.

Things your character will always know (unless in special circumstance)

-Location (unless they were kidnapped or blacked out and woke up somewhere new, in which case you get to decide how they figure out where they are)

-Time of day (unless drugged or just particularly awful with time keeping like me)

-North, East, South, West (blind people are better at this than sighted people actually. They teach themselves to be so they don’t get lost.)

-Season and climate they live in

-If where they are is crowded or deserted or somewhat populated, and if the current amount of people is odd for this particular location and time.

That is enough to get a setting started, but then you add in non-sight sensory details.

Your character’s other senses can pick up the other details.

They’ll hear the leaves crunching under their feet and scraping against the pavement as they move their cane, hear the traffic or the kids playing in the park or the footsteps behind them on a quiet street or the skateboards whizzing past. They’ll feel the sand under their fingers, the soft sink of grass under their sneakers, slippery mud, the cracked pavement or the bumpy asphalt under their cane, or the peeled paint on the wall chipping under their nails, or sticky syrup on the table they didn’t see before they put their hand there. They’ll feel the sun on their cheeks. They’ll feel the chill of the wind. They’ll smell the food in the restaurant they’re visiting, or smell the pinesol floor cleaner, or the smelly dumpster they’re passing, or the wet dirt after rain. (When I walk outside I usually can smell the wet dirt before I see the wet puddles on the ground) Their senses can add details their eyes never could.

As a writer in general, you need to get use to using all five senses when writing, but consider this the extra mile where you use them to compensate for the lack of visual description.

Describing Conversations without Sight

That sounds like a contradiction, but there’s a lot more sight involved in a conversation than you think. Somewhere between 60 and 90% of communication is non verbal (I’ve heard multiple versions of this statistic and I can’t be bothered to look it up again myself)

This means what your characters are saying isn’t the only information you’re getting. Sighted people can use body posture and facial expression to get a feeling on someone’s mood during a conversation. A frown or a smile, crossed arms, sharp and agitated arm gestures or flowing and light arm gestures. Rolled eyes, annoyed looks, shared glances, funny faces, all of it. In some cases your blind character might see the smile or the body posture, if they have enough sight to allow for that, but if they don’t?

Your character doesn’t know who’s smiling or frowning, or what their friends look like when they do those things. Shared glances aren’t possible and your character won’t notice their friend rolling their eyes.

(Not unless their specific amount of vision allows them to sometimes see these facial expressions, such as when they’re very close and the lighting is good)

Your character is using vocal tone and word choice to find the emotion of the speaker. Fast talking implies urgency or excitement. Broken sentences or stuttering implies anxiety, shyness, guilt, lying, agitation. Calm tones, slow talking, and light laughter implies easy conversation with no tension. Mispronounced words or slurred words imply drunkenness, exhaustion, or injury.

Friends and Family Sometimes Fill in the Details You Don’t See

This is personal experience I’m writing from. It’s very common for my friends and family to point visual details out for me when I’m out and about, especially if they’re details I would care about seeing or that would make me happy to know, and these are all real things they’ve mentioned to me.

“There’s an orange cat on that roof.” “There’s a really nice garden over there, lots of roses.” “There’re two kids outside playing with light sabers.” “There are parrots in the trees above us.” “There’s a street performer across the street.” “There’s another person walking by with a cane twenty feet away from you.” (This happened yesterday before my last class of the semester, so fresh memory) “Oh, there are pride flags hanging from that building.” (that was last summer on a drive through a nearby town during June, and I was very happy about it)

Or mentioning things that might be a hazard for me- “There’s a big crowd coming up.” “We’re walking into the parking lot now” “There are some orange cones ahead” “There’s a nearby ladder, walk to your right.” “There are some skateboarders coming towards us.”

Or mentioning social things of interest- “That person is checking you out.” (flirting) “That person is staring at you.” (rude) “There’s a cute guy/girl over there.” “Friend A does not look like they’re enjoying talking to friend B.” or “Friends A and C are dancing/smoking outside/laughing/staring at their phones.” Anything really.

Sometimes it’s things that are inappropriate and rude and judgey, but trust me when I say that people will tell you about it when you can’t see it. “Wow, that girl’s outfit is terrible.” or “Wow her roots are bad.” or “That dude looks like he hasn’t shaved and showered in a month.” or “I don’t like this tattoos.” or “He looks like a troll.” If your blind character has a companion who’s especially judgey, these might be things they say.

Identifying Other People in a Conversation

Here’s an important question. Does your character see enough to identify someone by their face or body or walking style? No? Here’s what you need-

If a good friend or a nice classmate walks up to your character, they should say, “Hey Matt, it’s Kara” or introduce themselves somehow so that your character knows who they’re talking to, and then the conversation starts.

If you’re going to tell me that your character recognizes everyone by the sound of their voice, I’m going to tell you that you’re wrong.

Humans aren’t capable of producing super unique vocal tones and ranges that set them apart from the other 7 billion here, and humans, (even the super powered blind people I’m going to tell you to avoid writing in part three) even blind humans are not capable of recognizing everyone’s voice.

Your character might recognize a specific voice if its- 

1) Their parents or their siblings or their best friends or their teachers, maybe. I can’t pick my mom’s voice out in a crowd, so obviously that’s not a guarantee 

2) They might recognize someone if they have a recognizable accent that few other people in your character’s life have. American friend in the U.K. or a Russian classmate in America with an accent.

3) That person has an exceptionally high or low voice that really stands out. Not likely though.

If they do recognize that person, they probably only recognize them in context. I recognize teacher’s voices if I’m in the specific part of campus I normally see them in. I recognize some -some- of my classmate’s voices if I’m physically in that class, but I’d never pick them out of a voice line up on a different side of campus. I recognize actors voices if I’m watching TV (actually, it’s more that I recognize dialogue of movies and tv shows I’ve watched before and remember who played what part)

In certain circumstances, yes, maybe your character would recognize someone’s voice. Please use the “Hi Matt, it’s Kara, have you finished the homework yet?” method because it’s so much more reliable and I would love it it the people who read your works learn to start introducing themselves that way to their blind friends.

Obviously, not all of your characters will know to introduce themselves to you this way, or may forget, but hopefully your blind character has taught their friends well enough to do that.

I will leave that as Part Two. It’s been five hours since I started this project and it’s way past midnight. Feel free to leave me asks about writing blind characters. I will always be happy to answer your asks.

Follow this blog for more writing advice (and not just for blind characters)

[starryviolentine]

Color Me Blue (That’s Me Without You): A Pre-Apocalypse Story

Part 1 (here)     Part 2 (here)     Part 3 (here) Part 4 (here)     Part 5 (here) 

Part 6/10: Bend and Break

When Brody shuts off her alarm without immediately getting out of bed, Violet assumes that her friend is just extra tired this morning and wants to get in a few more minutes of rest. Now that she thinks back on it, though, that should’ve been her first clue that something wasn’t quite right. Brody never oversleeps and never hits snooze.

Nevertheless, Violet lets her be and finishes getting ready on her own, and when she returns to their bedroom she finds Therissa and her backpack already gone, meaning that their older roommate has already left for breakfast, or whatever it is that teenagers do in the morning before class. At first glance the room seems empty, so Violet figures that maybe she somehow missed Brody on her way back from the bathroom, but then she steps farther inside and almost does a double-take. There’s a perfectly Brody-sized lump underneath the blankets, still in exactly the same spot as Violet saw her last.

“What are you doing?” Violet asks incredulously. “We’re gonna be late.”

When she’s met with complete silence, Violet’s first thought is that Brody is still asleep. A rare opportunity has presented itself… she just has to take it. Lips curling into a mischievous grin, Violet leaps onto the bed, crawls right on top of the other girl and sits on her legs. She pokes Brody in the side with her finger, knowing full well that her best friend is extremely ticklish there. “Brody, wake up.”

Brody jolts slightly, letting out a small, squeaky yelp, and the reaction sends Violet into a fit of giggles.

“Seriously, though,” says Violet, getting to her feet, “if we don’t leave in, like, ten minutes we’re gonna miss breakfast.”

Instead of jumping right up and freaking out about being late for class like Violet expected, Brody sinks deeper into her blankets until her head disappears under the covers. When she finally speaks, her voice is muffled and barely audible. “I’m not going.”

“What?” Raising an eyebrow, Violet yanks the blankets away and grabs Brody by the arms, pulling her upright. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Can you tell Ms. Martin that I don’t feel good?” Brody’s shoulders slump and she reminds Violet of the sad, floppy ragdoll that used to sit on a shelf at her grandparents’ house. Even her voice is quiet and weary, lacking its usual spark.

“Are you sick or something?”

Brody draws her legs up to her chest and hugs her knees, keeping her eyes downcast. She gives a small shake of her head. “No, but…”

There is definitely something wrong with Brody. Violet, starting to worry a bit, takes a seat on the mattress and scoots closer to her friend. “Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t… I don’t know what to do, Vi…”

Violet tries her best to follow, but she has no idea what Brody’s talking about. Whatever it is, she knows that it’s got to be serious. She hasn’t seen her friend this upset in a long time. “What’s wrong?”

Brody’s voice cracks. “Everything!”

The more emotional Brody gets, the more tense Violet feels. Big feelings make her uneasy and she never knows how to handle them. And this time, they’re not even hers. When it comes to Brody, Violet’s number one priority is diffusing the situation as soon as possible because there’s nothing worse than seeing her best friend upset. The scariest thing about these situations actually has nothing to do with how overwhelming they can be… it’s the fact that Violet gets so worried that she won’t know the right thing to say or do to make Brody feel better.

Right now, in their room, it’s just the two of them. No backup. Violet’s confidence falters. “Should I get Therissa?”

“No!”

The answer is shrill and comes a little too quickly.

“Okay,” Violet says cautiously, raising her hands in defense, “that’s a thing I’m not gonna do.”

“Sorry...” Brody lowers her voice and her eyes turn apologetic. “Vi, I don’t… I don’t think Therissa likes me.”

Violet gives a small sigh. At this rate, they’re definitely not going to have time for breakfast. She might even be late for class, too. Not that she really cares that much, anyway. Brody is way more important. Violet makes herself comfortable, moving into the space next to her friend so they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder. “Did something happen?”

“She seemed mad at me the other day, when I got back,” Brody explains, voice softer than Violet’s ever heard it before, “a-and I don’t… I don’t know why…”

Violet listens as Brody’s voice grows dangerously higher in pitch with every word.

“Has she ever said anything to you? Like, maybe… maybe I get on her nerves because I talk to her too much, or that I’m annoying, or… something…?”

“I don’t think she hates you,” Violet says, intending for her statement to be reassuring, but she immediately regrets her choice of words because the girl next to her starts to cry. “I mean, she talks to us sometimes, right?”

“She likes you, Vi. You did your nails together... ” Brody pauses to wipe her eyes with her pajama sleeves. “I think she only does stuff with us because you’re there. I’ve lived with her for almost three years and she’s never asked me to do anything with her…”

This is the second time Brody’s brought up the whole nail painting thing, so she really must have wanted to be there. If Violet could go back in time, she would tell Therissa that she would only let her do her nails if she promised to do Brody’s, too. Actually, that’s not a bad idea... Violet sits up a little straighter. Maybe they should just talk to Therissa about all of this! “Hey, maybe we should go talk to her. I mean, you guys could work out your stuff, and then we could just ask if she could paint your-”

“Vi, no!” Brody cries, sounding appalled. “We can’t!”  

Once again, it seems like Violet has unintentionally said the wrong thing. “Or, you know, we could not do that, either.”

“We can’t mention any of this to Therissa, okay?” Brody turns to Violet and speaks in a serious, almost pleading tone. “I don’t wanna bother her. Vi, you can’t tell her. Promise me you won’t.”

“Okay, fine, I won’t,” says Violet, somewhat reluctantly. Even though she’s not keen on leaving Therissa in the dark, especially when she believes that talking to the teen will solve everything, she doesn’t want to upset Brody further. At least she’s no longer crying. “Are you really not going to class today?”

Brody shakes her head, face turning gloomy again. “I… I just need some time.”

“Do you...” Violet clears her throat. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

For the first time that day, Brody smiles, even if it’s just a small fraction of her usual hundred-watt grin. “No, it’s okay. You have that math quiz today, don’t you?”

The blonde girl groans. “I was trying to forget about that.”

“Thank you, though,” says Brody, putting an arm through Violet’s and leaning her head against her shoulder for just a moment. “You always make things better.”

Violet can feel her cheeks heating up.

And that’s her cue to leave.

After promising to let Ms. Martin know that Brody would be absent today, Violet goes over to her side of the room to grab her belongings. Just like every morning, she slips into her sneakers and slings her backpack over her shoulder, but something feels off. It’s weird to be leaving without Brody. Pausing in the doorway, Violet takes one last look at her friend, who waves goodbye, before pulling the door closed behind her.

If she really wanted to, Violet could probably zip down to the cafeteria with just enough time to snag a banana or granola bar to scarf down before her first class, but there’s somewhere else she wants to go instead. Somewhere more important. She hurries across campus and heads straight to the main hall where the majority of the classes at Ericson’s take place. The classrooms on the ground floor and second floor belong to the lower and intermediate school. By now, Violet knows the entire layout of the first two floors like the back of her hand. She could tell you which drinking fountains have the coldest water, which floorboards to step over so you don’t trip and fall on your face, and even which bathroom stalls to avoid due to broken locks or toilets that don’t always flush. There’s one more level in the building, though, but Violet has never been up there before.

Until now, that is.

At the very top of the staircase is the third floor, where the high school classes are held. This is uncharted territory for Violet, but she finds herself making her way down the hallway full of strangers anyway. Amidst the teenagers and teachers who are all bigger and taller than she is, tiny Violet sticks out like a sore thumb. This draws a lot of unwanted attention, but she pushes on, doing her best to ignore the head turns, the stares and the whispers. There isn’t very much time left. Violet moves as fast as she can, popping her head into every classroom she passes as she looks for one teen in particular.

“You lost, kid?” Somebody calls out to her, but Violet quickly ducks out of sight without looking to see who it is. It’s not a voice she recognizes. Not the voice she’s listening out for.

The only thing Violet cares about right now is helping Brody, even if that means breaking-

No, not quite breaking.

Even if that means bending her promise a little.

Violet really needs to talk to Therissa. She just hopes she can find her before the bell rings.

[january3693]

Someone We Used to Know - Part 16

(This is a Marauders Era AU about what might have changed if Sirius was expelled after the Prank. Here’s the Master List if you’d like to start from the beginning or find a specific part)

Sirius doesn’t have friends, not anymore. He knows plenty of people he counts as friendly acquaintances, but no true friends. Not like the Marauders.

He tells himself that after what happened at Hogwarts he prefers it that way. Sometimes he even believes it.

He might not have found new friends after his expulsion, but one thing Sirius hasn’t shied away from finding new teachers. Some he sought out, others found him. From them, Sirius learned things Hogwarts would never teach him. Languages, magical theory, wandless magic, conceptual charms, or dangerous potions.

Then there’s Laverna Foley.

A squib born to a pureblood family in Dublin, Laverna was cast out of her family when she failed to show any signs of magic. With one foot in the wizarding world and another in the muggle world, Laverna was forced to make her own way in a cruel and terrible world. Even if that meant breaking a few laws.

It’s a sad story. It might even be a true story.

Here’s another true story though. Of all of Sirius’s post-Hogwarts teachers, Laverna was the best of them. She taught Sirius the fine points of forgery and art theft and how to run a confidence game against both Muggles and wizards.

“Bonjour!” There’s a familiar Irish lilt behind the French greeting when Laverna answers the phone.

“I fucked up,” Sirius replies.

There’s a pause, then an almost serpentine hiss.

“I told you! Didn’t I warn you? Didn’t I tell you not to go to fucking London? I specifically remember telling you in these exact words that ‘Dark Lords are bad for business.’”

Knowing they won’t get anywhere until he admits he was wrong and she was right, Sirius sighs. “Yes, Laverna, you said exactly that, and I didn’t listen.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t get the Chiaroscuro then, unless that ‘gas-pipe explosion’ I saw on the telly this morning was your doing,” Laverna says. “If so, it was ballsy, but it lacks your usual subtlety.”

“The explosions weren’t me,” Sirius says. He leans against the wall and lets himself slide down it until he’s sitting on the carpet, his hotel telephone cradled in his arms and the receiver pinned between his ear and his shoulder. “It was Voldemort’s followers, idiots in masks and stupid-looking hoods. I guess they’re openly calling themselves Death Eaters these days.”

“Coincidence?” Laverna asks, though Sirius knows she doesn’t believe in coincidences.

“As far as I can tell…but that’s not all. I saw someone I knew last night,” Sirius confesses. He wraps his fingers through the curly phone cord and wishes there was more vodka in the minibar.

“Among the fucksticks in masks?”

“No…an old friend from school,” Sirius says. If he closes his eyes, he knows he’ll see Remus’s shocked expression, his wide amber eyes. He’d looked good in a tuxedo, though Sirius still can’t fathom what Remus was doing at an art museum or fighting Death Eaters.

“Well,” Laverna says, “that certainly explains the phone call I received this morning.”

“What phone call?” Sirius asks, sitting up straighter.

“Your friend from school, would his name be Remus Lupin by chance?” Laverna asks. She pronounces Remus’s name with an audible sneer.

“Shite!” Sirius says, viciously raking a hand through his tangled hair.

“Precisely,” Laverna says acidly. “You gave the museum one of the phone numbers that rings back to me, and somehow your old friend got ahold of that information. Merlin’s poxy cock, Black! I thought you’d had this heroic streak beaten out of you. How many more blows to the head is it going to take to get it through your thick skull that you’re not Robin Hood?”

“It’s not like that,” Sirius protests. He doesn’t dare tell Laverna that when the fighting started, he jumped in and helped.

Laverna sighs, she seems to know anyway. “Do me a favor then. Find a mirror and let me know when you’re standing in front of it.”

Sirius looks up from toying with the telephone cord. There’s a mirror on the wall directly across from where he’s sitting. He stares at his reflection, wondering what he’s supposed to see besides a cut on his forehead in need of a plaster and a suit no dry cleaner is ever going to be able to fix.

What had Remus seen when he’d stared at Sirius last night? Had he noticed the sharpness that had never quite left Sirius’s face after those first few hungry months on the streets of London? What about the lump halfway down his nose from when it had been broken and Sirius couldn’t figure out a wandless episkey to fix it? The suit would have hidden his tattoos and most of his scars at least.

“Are you looking in a mirror yet?” Laverna asks sharply.

“Yes,” Sirius replies.

“All right then, tell me what color your hair is.”

Sirius frowns. “What does that have to do with anything?” He reaches up and tugs on a short strand of black hair.

“And your eyes?” Laverna asks. “What color are they right now? Did you bother to disguise yourself at all last night?”

“I didn’t see the need,” Sirius protests feebly. “I was just getting the layout and security specs, not actually stealing the painting.”

“So, you went back to the one city in the world where you’re most likely to be recognized without so much as changing your hair color?” The sarcasm is rolling off Laverna’s tongue. “I don’t know who you wanted to find you Black, but it sounds like you’ve succeeded. Congratulations.”

“That’s not—I didn’t want this to happen! Sirius snaps.

“If that’s true then go to the airport and get on the first plane leaving London, Laverna says.

“What about the job?” Sirius asks.

“Fuck the job,” Laverna snaps. “Tell the buyer the painting’s too hot to touch right now. Considering there was literally an explosion while you were casing the museum, he should believe you. Even if he doesn’t, fuck him anyway.”

There it is, the advice Sirius wanted. The second opinion to back up his own instinct to run. He closes his eyes and pictures Remus, wand drawn, fighting as elegantly as other people dance.

“I need to finish this,” Sirius says. He’s not sure in that moment if he’s talking about the painting or something else entirely. He just knows he can’t leave London. Not yet.

There’s silence on the line for several long seconds. Sirius counts them with twists of the phone cord around his fingers. Laverna might have a soft spot for him, but she’s not his friend.

“You’re on your own, Black,” she says finally. “Don’t get sentimental.”

With those final words, she hangs up on him, and Sirius feels very much alone as he listens to the dial tone.

He puts the receiver back and sets the phone on the floor next to him. Before he has more than a minute to contemplate the decision he’s just made, the phone rings again.

“Mr. Sterling, this is Helen from the front desk,” a woman replies when Sirius ansers. She has that forced cheerfulness familiar across all service industries, but beneath it she sounds a little confused and guarded herself. “There are guests here asking for you,” Helen continues, “a…Messrs. Moony, er, Wormtail, and Prongs?”

Well, that was fast.

(Part 17)

[fidgemimic]

Anyway Beau fucking hates the new wizards for like the first month or two. Also this gets rambly and fic-layout-y as hell. i am very tired and have a headache so bls forgive me

Beau hates both of these new Zemnian assholes to be entirely honest, but she’s willing to give them an iota of a chance after everything finally goes down and the immediate ramifications of turning the Empire’s greatest war mages/archmages into traitors are done with.

She’s absolutely not the only one that doesn’t trust them - fuck not even Caleb trusts them completely and he’s the reason they even bothered to defect in the first place. But the gang at this point is willing to put enough trust into them that they won’t just straight up slaughter them all in a heartbeat.

It doesn’t help that they’re both disgustingly proper.

Backs still ramrod straight, hands folded neatly in their lap or attentively behind their backs. They make eye contact with anyone who dares to speak no matter who it’s too. They’re attentive and quiet - and the nein can see them calculating scenarios and escape routes and weaknesses in their heads any time someone dares to move.

Eodwulf, to everyone’s benefit, seems to easily swap between the cold persona into one that’s a little too competent socially to not be forced and practiced to perfection over the years. He can easily hold a conversation with Fjord and Clay, even drawing laughter from Jester at his quips and playing along with her strange stories; Though not the ones about the Traveller. 

(The first time she mentions him, things suddenly go horribly, terribly wrong. He doesn’t hurt her, of course, but they can feel the air change. He snaps into another personality entirely - disgusted and enraged at the concept that he’s sitting with a heretic of all people. It’s like something cruel has taken over him, drawing curses and cruelty from his lips that bring Jester to tears before anyone even fully realizes the situation. It’s not the first time it happens, but it startles everyone - Eodwulf included. Jester doesn’t receive an apology until much later, once Caleb pulls him away from the group and speaks to him quietly. No one cares to ask what was said - not until Jester grows curious a few days later and asks Wulf. Beauregard only barely overhears it - glaring daggers at the half elf all the same. 

“He said that it was.... it was hard to relearn what should be - what is - acceptable. Hard to relearn what it is normal people see as being non-issues. It’s no excuse for my horrid behavior, but it is... difficult... to know after so long.”

Beauregard.... hates him a little less for that. He’s dangerous, and she keeps an eye on him, but it’s easier to remember that he’s not the first or only person who’s had these issues before. If she speaks to Caleb later about what to expect, it’s for the safety of the group - obviously. She needs to know what she needs to look out for so that she can swoop in and roundhouse kick a bitch in the throat if push comes to shove. But if she manages to catch the hints - the sudden stillness, the tightening of his jaw, the impulsive twitch of fingers as if readying a spell - she jumps in and distracts him with a flourish and desperate ease that would’ve made Molly proud. Eodwulf is easy to decipher once you know what the signs are.

Astrid, however, is not.

She radiates an air of authority that would make Beau sick if it wasn’t from a woman that was just so fucking hot. Where Eodwulf finds a place to integrate himself socially, Astrid sits back and watches from just far enough away that it’s obvious she’s not really part of the team.

It’s intentional - and she’s said as much to the rest when they ask her about it.

“I have little reason to trust that the lot of you won’t kill me tonight. I am fine here. Thank you.”

Beau can tell that Caleb is torn with this information. He’s been torn since the two of them arrived - all three of them have been desperately trying to figure out where they stand with each other in a way that The Nein would find hilarious if it wasn’t a rom-com script stitched together with trauma and guilt and all of the disgusting waste the empire had tried to shove down their throats.

Caleb and Eodwulf are the only two willing to approach her for conversation with positive results. Fjord had tried and given up after two weeks of clipped answers and obvious disinterest. Clay wanders over from time to time with his teapot and empty stories to try and ensure she doesn’t feel left out. She never drinks his tea - not even pretending to in the way that Clay often pretends to drink liquor - but he hardly seems to mind.

No one knows what it is that causes the outburst. One moment, they’re surrounding the fire, chatting aimlessly while Clay’s slow drawl acts as white noise in the background. Then the loud crash of ceramic shattering against the ground bring everyone to silence. Their eyes are drawn to the duo behind them, where Clay sits as calm as ever - his eyes only marginally wider to indicate the barest hint of shock. His teapot lay in pieces on the ground between them.

Astrid raises from her spot, cup still cradled in her hands before she deliberately allows that to slip and shatter on the ground as well.

“Oh, how unfortunate. Clumsy me.” 

When she wanders off, it’s Eodwulf that followers behind her, with Caleb nervously trailing close behind.

Beauregard approaches Clay as he works from his place on the ground, carefully picking up shards of what used to be beautifully painted ceramic.

“It’s no issue, Ms Beauregard. Simply an oversight on my part - I must have upset her and not noticed. It can be fixed easily, no harm done.”

The three wizards return not 10 minutes later. Astrid is silent, as are Eodwulf and Caleb. There is no apology, no attempt to speak to her, only the same carefully blank expression that’s been on her face since the day they found her. Something about the simple lack of remorse or empathy makes Beau’s skin crawl.

Beauregard hates Astrid.

And she makes damn sure that she shows it. 

Beauregard grants this woman none of the ‘pleasantries’ she gives her friends - drudging up every ounce of malice that she has and directing it solely towards this woman. Astrid is everything she hates wrapped into a package in just the right manner that she doesn’t want to tear her limb from limb immediately. She’s the embodiment of the empire, of everything wrong with it and what it does to people. She’s cruel and calculating and Beau can’t help but imagine how quickly and easily this woman could end all of their lives. Poison their food stores while she keeps a small sachel of her own rations close.How easy it would be for her to slip close enough to Caleb to slit his throat with a hiss of ‘traitor’ on her lips even after all he’s done to get them to safety.

She feels predictable and not all at once. It throws Beau for a loop when Astrid finally - finally - responds to her constsant prodding. Not with anger, but with a smile.

The woman is quick-witted and cold. Her words are like daggers being driven into every weak spot Beauregard has and it’s a show of power that drives her fucking insane with how easily the quips come to her. The only thing keeping The Mighty Nein from tearing them apart is the reactions that the fight seems to garner from Eodwulf and Caleb of all people. 

The two of them are huddled together, muttering and chuckling in Zemnian. They commentate with small gasps and giggles and muttered ‘oh, sheisse’s that - through the anger and annoyance - remind Beau of the catty assholes she used to go to school with as a young girl. It doesn’t help that Astrid seems to feed off of their strange new relationship, and in the midst of it all Beauregard realizes something:

This, the woman that’s tearing into her with abandon and thriving off of the attention of her two best friends, the woman who’s catty and self-assured - not because she knows she has power and statusadn training - but because she knows she’s clever enough to out-shittalk someone, is the closest they’ve gotten to seeing who she is.

She’s not sure why she decided to keep it going after that. She found what she was looking for - a small note that Astrid wasn’t just some hollowed out war machine. Something that showed her that there was still a person in there. Hell, she found the tattered remains of Something in all three of them that she hardly expected. 

But Astrid was quick to leave them again - back ramrod straight and shoulder squared. Face carefully neutral. Beau, in all of her horrible terrible no good very bad wisdom, continued the fight for as long as she could, as often as she could.

It was slow going, and every so often Astrid would fall completely silent and unresponsive to Beauregard’s jabs in a way that was uncomfortably familiar, but over time it didn’t even take Beau’s stupid attempts at fighting for Astrid to make quips and clever comments to other members of the team.

It felt like a miracle at that point.

As much as Beau wanted to continue hating Astrid after that point - as much as she wanted to still hold that bone-deep distrust that made sure she had a hand around her staff any time either of those fuckers get closer to one of her friends, she found that she couldn’t. Not really. They were doing better, and if she ever admitted to the fact that she was a little bit proud and a little bit protective of them at this point, she would have to throw herself off a cliff or something.

They were the ghosts of people, slowly but surely remembering who they could have been if everything hadn’t gone so fucking horribly. If she noticed the way that Caleb’s nervous half-smiles turned into stupid childish grins any time Eodwulf or Astrid said anything in Zemnian, or if she noticed how they slowly started to lay their bedrolls out next to each other with less and less space between them each night - that’s not her fuckin problem. That’s not her bullshit garbage ‘friends-to-lovers’ ‘hurt/comfort’ drama novel plot, and she could frankly care less so long as it was a decision that they got to make themselves.

[lillaxtrigger]

Young hope: Chapter 7

Walking through the street, Chloe was digging around in her purse. “I wonder if Serena could use this with her potions.”. She pulls out a sealed bottle of toenail clipping. “It’s about time dad got rid of his disgusting toenail collection anyway. Weather he wants to or not.” Walking up to Serena’s house, Chloe knocks at the door. She patiently waits for her friend to open up and let her in. The door opens. “Hey girl. Thought you might like something for your-”. She stops talking once she sees that it wasn’t her friend, but rather a blonde middle aged woman that opened the door. “Oh, hey Serena’s mom. Is Serena home? I kinda wanted to give her something.”. “I’m sorry. Serena isn’t home right now.” the woman said in a soft spoken voice. “You know where she is?”. “She had to go to the forest to gather ingredients for her potions. I don’t think she’ll be back until tomorrow.”. “Oh...Well, if you see her, can you tell her I dropped this off?” Chloe says as she hands the mother the bottle. The mother gives a strange look to the jar of clippings before heading back inside. Walking off from Serena’s house, she says to herself: “Well, there goes the afternoon.”. She pulls out her phone and scrolls over to Ryu’s number. “I’m just gonna see what Ryu’s up to. See if he’s got time for a little date.”. She taps on his icon and awaits the dial. Hearing it ring, her hopes soar. “Hey there.” Ryu says on the other line. “Hey Ryu. Listen I was wondering if-”. “Sorry, you reach my voicemail. Leave a message after the beep.”. The phone beeps prompting Chloe to hang up. “Mmm. Bet that bitch Opal has him in her clutches. No worries, I’ll bide my time until she loosens her grip.”. She scrolled through her other numbers and stopped at Alex’s. “Hmm...wonder what Alex wants to do.”. She was about to tap the dial, when something popped in her head. “Wait, doesn’t he have practice today? Yeah, he practicing with that one new kid...Ray? I don’t know.”. Sitting on a bench in the city, Chloe was scrolling through her contacts, only to find nobody she wanted to hang out with was available. “Nearly all of my friends are busy, doing something with their time...except for me.”. She puts away her phone and sighs as she looks down. “Now what?...”. “How tragic.” she hears a voice, smooth as honey, ring out to her. Looking up, she saw a shadow emerge in above her own. She turns around and sees a figure upon the roof of the building behind her, darkened by the sun behind him. The figure jumps from the roof and gracefully lands right in front of the teenager. “A single rose left alone at the mercy of this urban jungle. No one else to tend to it.” the figure said as he got up. Chloe began to feel weirded out, this guy suddenly appearing on the roof of a building and jumped before her. All that changed when the stranger turned to her, looking at her with his inviting, green snake like eyes. Garbed in a red sleeveless gi, he steps forward in his light olive boots and reaches out to the girl with gauntlets of the same color. Chloe was enchanted by the strangers dashing looks, his black wavy hair offset by the dark green streak aside the front of his face. “Greetings.”. “H...H-Hi.” Chloe stutters, her face blushing as the cautious feelings melting away. “Allow me to introduce myself. You may simply refer to me as Drake.”. Drake sat down on the bench with her. “I couldn’t help but overhear that all your friends are busy. A shame really. No one to keep a lovely girl like you company.”. When she heard that, she began to tense up, the wary emotions returning. “Has this guy been spying on me?” she thinks. “Of course, this might mean you have some free time on your hands.”. Drake saw that Chloe began to slowly inch away from him. “I know how you might feel. You thinking of running. Running as far as you can from me.”. Drake smoothly and gently holds Chloe’s hand and says to her: “Let me bring you worries to rest, that I mean to you no harm.”. The young man looks at Chloe, gazing her with his charming stare painted with a faint smile. The mans gaze sends the girl into a charmed lull, the alarms buzzing in her head calming down. “O...O-Okay.” she says, her face bright red. Letting go of her hand, Drake stares up into the sky. “Allow me, if you may, to skip to my point. I’ve been sent on a very important mission to retrieve a very important item. However, certain restrictions disallow me to continue with this mission. I need the help of somebody a very unique set of skills.”. He turns towards Chloe and says: “A set of skills you have.”. Drake snaps his fingers in the air, making a limousine drive up from around the corner. Opening the door for the girl, he asks her: “Will you help me?”. With those alarms in her head silenced, she nods her head and say: “S-sure.”. She gets into the limo, Drake shutting the door behind her. Inside, Chloe saw the interior of the fancy car was velvet red. The surface of the seat felt very soft to touch. “This feels very different from our limo.” she thinks. The girl sees Drake entering the limousine through the doors in front of her. The charming young man takes the seat in front of her. He knocks on the window behind him, sliding down to reveal the limo driver. “Barkley.” Drake calls. “What can I do for you Mr. You-”. Before the man could finish, Drake turns to him, glaring with a piercing gaze. “I-I mean..Drake.”. “Take us to our destination.”. “Of course.”. The limo starts to move, heading out of the lonely street. Sitting on the comfortable velvet, it temps Chloe to relax, being as comfortable as a soft bed, but a thorn of worry sticks to her mind, keeping her senses. “What am I doing? I’m in a limousine with thos admittedly handsome stranger, taking me to who knows where.”. “By the way. I did not catch you’re name.” Drake asks. “It’s...Chloe.”. “Chloe? How fitting.”. She takes a deep breath and boldly asks: “Alright, fess up! What did you mean when you said that you needed skills that only I have? Have you been spying on me?”. “Hm...I sadly admit, that I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time.”. With that, Chloe began to feel uneasy, looking towards the doors. “However, I did mean it when I said that you are very unique.”. This makes her stop looking around and gaze towards Drake. “Really?”. “Yes. I’ve never really seen anyone else with such elegant skills before. Believe me when I say that you are the only one who can help me.”. “Well...what if I don’t want to?”. Drake lightly chuckles and says: “That’s quite alright. I can simply drop you of at you’re home. This will all go away and I’ll promise that you’ll never see me again.”. Chloe thought to herself for a moment before her phone started to to ring. She saw that her mom was calling. Turning to Drake, he says to her: “Go on. Answer it.”. She answers her phone, and hears her mothers voice on the line. “Hey mom.”. “Hi Chloe, sweetie. I was just wondering if while you’re out, you can get me a couple things.”. “Like…?” “Oh stuff like olives and burrito wraps. I wanna try my hands at making enchiladas.”. “Um...”. Chloe looks over to Drake, who simply nods to her. “I...can’t right now. I’m busy helping a friend out with something important, and I don’t know how long it’ll take.”. “Oh, okay. Sorry to bother you then. I’ll just get Kingsley to pick them up. Bye sweetie.”. Hanging up, she groans as she puts away her phone. “I can’t thank you enough. Ms. Chloe.”. “Mind I ask what we’re doing, exactly?” she impatiently demanded. “Of course.”. “We will be paying a visit to the ancient museum Cainwest in the dead of night. This museum houses some of the worlds greatest treasures, and thus is heavily guarded. Our prize is the Orb of Blood, said to be the hardened blood of several deities. The orb is housed right in the middle of the museum. We must find a way past the countless guards, all of which possess incredible, almost mystic strength. The layout of the museum is almost labyrinth like in design, several watchmen on guard. Luckily, I’ve sent in an agent in to map out the area. Once we have the orb, the alarm will no doubt go off, to then we must make our swift escape. Any questions?”. Chloe nervously stares at Drake the entire time he explained the mission at hand. “Wow...That, uh...That sounds like a lot. I’m actually a little...nervous. I don’t know if I can fight of an entire museum of strong guards.” she says as she looks away. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”. Chloe looks back at the young man, who says to her: “I’ll be with you the whole time. I promise that no harm will come to you, so long as you follow my instructions.”. “Okay...How-how long will it be until we get there?”. “It may take awhile. It would be best to relax before we arrive. Perhaps get some sleep.”. “Alright.” Chloe said as she rested her head down on the comfortable seating. The redhead drifts off into a relaxed slumber as she awaits her mission. Drakes phone then lightly rang, quickly picking up so not to wake his guest. On the other line a familiar voice asked Drake: “So, you find out what she’s made off yet?”. “Not yet. But all in due time.”. Hours later, the limo stops out in the middle of the forest, the sudden halt snapping Chloe awake. “What happened? Where are we?” she says as she gets up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “We’ve arrived at Cainwest.” Drake announced. “A-already!? How long have I slept?”. “About 4 and a half hours.”. “4 and a half-!...God damn, time when by fast.”. Drake got out and opened the door for Chloe, saying: “After you, m’lady.”. Chloe got out of the fancy limousine and saw a giant museum before her. The exterior was constructed out of shining marble, with glass pillars that had a pink energy flowing upward like pipes that reflected off the surface. The pink energy mesmerized the girl. It looked like the energy that came out of her Amazon crystal. “This is Cainwest? It’s huge! What kind of museum is built out here in the middle of the woods?”. “A magical museum. Housing items and artifacts of great sorcery and witchcraft. Some of the best names of magic are proudly displayed in it’s halls.”. “Wow. I can’t wait to see what’s inside.” Chloe wondered aloud as she started to walked towards the museum. Drake stops her by saying: “Before we go any further, perhaps you should take a look near the front.”. Chloe scanned the front of the museum and saw that in between the glowing pillars was a large, almost ape like guard with glowing tattoos along its body. “What is that?” she asks. “Those are the guards.”. “Them!? They look more like gorilla’s then people.”. “Quite. So how do you suppose we deal with them?” Drake asked. “You’re asking me? Why?”. “I’ve took note that you’re quite crafty when it comes to tactics. Something like this should be simple for you.” Chloe stared a the watch gorilla for a moment before saying: “Maybe we can try knocking him out from behind?”. “A sneak attack. Could be effective.”. The ape guard was staring out towards the woods, watching in case something catches its eye. Those eyes however were starting to drag down as the guard began to feel tired. The ape quickly awoke when it felt something blast his back. The guard turns around and sees Chloe and Drake behind it, Chloe’s hand smoking form the beam she shot out. The beasts tattoos start to glow as it jumps straight for them, prompting the two to dodge out of the way. Chloe tries to snag the ape with her pink whip, but it grab the whip and jerk it back, making Chloe fly towards the gorilla. The ape wound up its fist, getting ready to smash Chloe in, but Drake struck the beast from under its arm, making it real back and shake its arm. Chloe crashed to the ground near one of the pink columns. She turned around and saw the ape guard try and swipe Drake away, but was dodging every attempt, with him counter by jumping and kicking it the gorilla in the chin. The ape jumped back and hanged on one of the glass pillars, looking at Chloe. It then jumped straight at her, Chloe putting up a shield in an effort to block the gorillas attack. When the beast lands on her, it instantly breaks her defense. The impact makes her fly back just before the ape lands. The hulking gorilla slams down on the floor, breaking the hard stone floor beneath it. Drake jumps over to Chloe to help her up. “Do you perhaps have another plan?” he asks her. “Um...Gimme a minute.”. “I don’t think our opponent will even give us a second.”. Both of them see the ape charging straight for them. While Drake dodges to the side, Chloe flies straight up. The girl sees the ape climbs straight for her, jumping from pillar to pillar to ascend. It leaps straight for towards her, Chloe barely being able to dodge as the ape lodges its fist to the roof. Chloe flies back, try to give herself as much space from the beast as possible. She then back up into one of the glass pillars with pink energy flowing through them. She knocks on the glass, noticing it making a hollow noise, making an idea pop into her head. She flies over to Drake, who says to him: “We need to aggravate it. I have an idea.”. The ape gets itself of the roof and crash to the ground. “Let hope this one works this time.”. Drake dashes over to the ape and punches it square in the gut. After reeling back, the gorilla then charges straight at Drake, who jumps on the beasts head. The gorilla tries to grab Drake while in the air, but the young man proves too slippery to grasp. When landing behind the beast, Drake kicks the beast in its side. The gorilla swings it mighty arms at him once more, Drake dodging into the beast and ending up behind it. He then strikes the softest part of it’s back, making the ape stumble forward. “There’s a funny thing about strength. You can amass all the physical power you want. However, if you can never it your opponent, what’s the point of it all?” The gorilla turned over to Drake, as if it understood him. Then again, what hope does a beast like you have of understanding that?”. Reacting at the last remark, it started to growl at the young man. It slams down into the ground, breaking apart the stone floor. The gorilla grabs the pieces of broken floor and chucks them at Drake. The young man weaves out of the way of the oncoming debris. He then grabs one of the pieces and spins it back around to its sender, hitting the ape in the face. The gorilla then covers it face, shouting out in pain. Chloe then shoots out another beam out to the primate, the ape turning to her with its bloodshot eyes. “Right here, you overgrown monkey! Come get me.” she taunted as she waved at the beast. The gorilla charged at Chloe, the girl awaiting as the beast drew closer. “Wait for it...Wait for it.”. The ape was winding up for another punch, closing in on her. Right when it was about to strike, Chloe flies up out of the way, making the ape punch through the glass pillar. The pink energy inside shocked the gorilla, making it drop to the ground. Chloe lands beside Drake, taking a sigh of relief. “Phew! For a moment there, I thought I wasn’t gonna make it.”. “Although we should be grateful that your second plan worked, I’d advise you to approach situations like this more carefully.” Drake started to walk towards the limp ape and carried him over his shoulder. “We’re extremely lucky he didn’t alert any others or set of an alarm of sorts. Not to mention the countless guards inside that could overwhelm us in numbers.”. Drake began to walk down into the woods, with Chloe following him. “Hm. Well, I’m sorry I’m not perfect for you.” Chloe huffed. “It’s alright, how about we try again. Where do you think we should enter from?” Drake asks as he hides the body in some shrubs. Chloe thinks for a moment before saying: “Obviously not the front door. Maybe the side?...No...How about the roof?”. Chloe flew Drake up to the roof, and found the building to be much larger then initially thought. “This place is bigger then it looks at the front.” she says in awe. “I did say that it was constructed like a labyrinth.”. “You also said that this orb were trying to find is in the middle of the museum, right?” “Yes. Another plan I presume?”. Chloe flew over quite far, Drake following, stopping in the middle of the roof. “All we have to do is blast a hole in the ceiling and we can zip in and out with the orb in no time flat.”. Chloe cracked her knuckles and warned: “Stand back.”. She then shoots out a ball of pink energy down on the marble roof. When the smoke clears, both of them see the roof still in one piece “Huh?”. “Perhaps we should find another way in.” Drake suggested. “No, gimme a second.”. The girl flew above the museum and shot a laser down that covered the whole roof in smoke. Descending as the dust clears, she finds the roof still intact. “Nng! Come on! What’s this roof made of?” she exclaimed in frustration. Her hands glowing once more, she says: “I’ll blow this whole damn roof of if I have to.”. “No. It’s clear you can’t break through. Anymore attempts will simply make unwanted noise.”. Calming down, the glow on the girls hands fade as she says: “Alright, fine. Maybe there’s another way in.”. Chloe looked around, only being able to spot a dome shaped window. “Ah ha!” Looking down inside, they saw a hall with giant statues of famous magic figures, ape guards patrolling around the room. Chloe carefully opens the window and flies both of them down on top of one of the statues where none of the patrols could see them. “Wait here.” Chloe asks Drake. She flies back to the dome when no guards were looking and gently shuts the window. Flying back to Drake, he compliments her, saying: “Covering up your track. Good thinking.”. “Thanks. I used to steal cookies from the jar when I was like 5 and figured out that my parents kept catching me because I left the lid off. Basically the same case here.”. When the patrol wasn’t looking, Chloe flew over to the next statue with Drake on her back. With the ape on guard distracted by his Game boy, both of them flew out of the room. Out of the room and into the hall, both of them flew out of earshot and landed on the floor, Chloe, whispering: “Yes, made it!”. She looks at Drake, who was staring at her. “I-I mean...Glad we didn’t get caught. Where to next? The young man pulls out a tablet and shows it to Chloe. On screen is what looked to be a big map. “This is the map of the building my agent made.”. He points to the middle of the map and says: “This is where the orb is being kept.”. He slides over to the left, with his finger stopping at a certain point. “Judging from our position, we are right...here.”. “Chloe saw that the path to the middle was winding and long.”. “It seems a little long, isn’t it.”. “I say you chose well. Look.”. Drake slides his finger over to the bottom of the screen, with a bunch of open areas near. “This is the front of Cainwest. Notice that there is a lot of wide rooms nearby. Not very great for stealth.” He then takes his finger over to the top of the map, with long stretches of halls, some looping back into themselves. “The back has much longer passageways and many choke points, some of which loop back into one another. A confusing layout, certainly a much more lengthy one. I would guess that it would have roughly taken us about 20 minutes to reach this point. Going through the roof was a great option. A good thief plans out the most optimal route to their prize if possible. “Eh, thanks.” Chloe said as she blushed. Putting the map away, Drake says: “Now, from here, we need to head south. The path to the orb should be straight forward.”. “Alright. Let’s go get that orb.” Chloe said as she headed down the hall. Drake clears his throat and mention: “Chloe…South is that way.”. He points to the opposite direction, making Chloe turn around and nervously say: “Right, right. Of-Of course that’s south. I-I was just messing with you is all.”. She turned around as she laughs and whispered under her breath: “God, I’m so fucking stupid.”. Coming to a straight corridor, both of them saw countless stone tablets depicting past and future prophecies that decorated the walls of the hallway. “This should be easy.” Chloe boasted as she started to walk through the hall. “Halt!” Drake exclaimed. Chloe immediately stopped and hastely asked: “What! What is it!?”. “A thief must always watch out for traps. We must watch our step. Look around and find anything that stands out.”. Chloe looked around the corridor and noticed a set of squares lined up on the roof. “What about those square things?”. “Hmm...” Drake pondered. He takes out a plastic ball from a hidden pocket and tosses it towards Chloe. The ball passes right beside her and disintegrates right before her eyes, making her back up nervously. “Disintegration rays. You’re quite lucky you stopped when you did.”. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. So how are we gonna get past them.”. “We need something that can uncover them so we can traverse safely.”. Chloe began to think, then pulled out a can of hair spray. Using the spray, she uncovers the light of the square. The spotlight in the middle of their path was wide, but navigable. “Good thinking.” Drake complimented. “Oh thanks, it’s nothing. I just saw that in a movie and thought it might work. It seemed really cool.”. “I hope you have enough in there for the rest.”. After they side stepped around the dangerous spotlight, Chloe used more of spray to uncover the next and went from there. Right when she was at the last spotlight, she ran out. “Dammit. Think we might be in trouble.” Chloe remarked. “All out?”. She looks at the spray can and starts slowly inch it forward. As soon as the bottom of the can starts to dissolve, she begins to move it over to the side, watching as the ray eats the can up. She traces the ray and carefully walks around the spotlight, Drake follows her footsteps. Making it around the last light, the can was down to its spray button. As soon as they were both on the other side of the hall, Chloe jumped for joy. “Hell yeah!” she quietly exclaims. “Did you see that from a movie as well?” Drake asks. “Actually, I came up with that on the fly. I thought might as well, it was empty anyway.”. “I see. Your resourceful thinking is quite amazing. Well done, Ms. Chloe.”. Chloe smiled when she heard the young man compliment her. “Now, let not waste anymore time. The night is fleeting.”. In a large hallway, with skeletons of large, mythical creatures on display, Chloe and Drake peeked out to see some gorilla guards, walking around, talking to one another, one of them eating its lunch on a bench. “Traversing through this hall would be the fastest route to the orb. However, moving through here would bring more risks. What do you say, Chloe? Should we proceed.”. “Hmm…Maybe.”. Looking around the room, she sees a mystic looking pen on one of the open stands. With a devious smile, Chloe says: “Follow me.” then starts to sneak in the hall. They hid themselves from the guard from behind the stands, going from one to the next as they passed. It wasn’t until they ducked under the base of one of the skeleton displays that Chloe Told Drake: “Wait here.”. She sneaks over to the pen and slowly takes it from its stands. Chloe then sneaks behind one of them and stealthily places the pen right between its ears. She quickly sneaks back to Drake, who whispers: “Now what?”. “Just wait.” They then hear one of the apes grunting and look over to see one of them pointing to the stand that had the pen. All of them patrol approach, making curious grunting noises as they looked. One of the gorillas notices the pen between its fellow apes ear and takes it. The gorilla in question turns toward the other to see the ape with the pen pointing to him. Its colleges begin to surround him, giving the pour ape judge mental expressions. It tries to deny stealing the pen, waving its hand in front of him. Chloe and Drake quickly rush out of the room while everyone was distracted. Out of the hall, Drake compliments Chloe, saying: “Pinning stolen evident on one of the guard. Interesting tactic.” “Thanks, I do it to my dad all the time. Really covers my assets.”. In a small room, two gorillas were playing card game. A pile of cards sat in the middle of the table. One of them shows the other a 3 of spades, giving a nodding gesture. The other shakes his head left and right, as if it was saying no. The one ape was shocked, then got really angry, flipping the table and spilling all the cards on the floor before walking off. The other primate slaps his face, upset that his friend is such a sore loser. While it goes back to its post near the door, Chloe and Drake peak out from a rather large exhibit. Chloe thinks for a moment before reaching into her bag and pulling out some beads. She throws them towards the opposite end of the room, making short, but loud noises that echo through as they land. The ape guard turns towards the source of the noise and walks out of the room. Both of them use this chance to pass through. They make it to a large door, strange lettering inscribed along the archway. “The hall of deities. Once we pass through here. We must grab the orb and make our swift escape.”. Chloe looks over and sees another hall full of weird looking artifacts. “Before we go in. Can I check something real quick.”. “Why? We’re so close to our goal. It wouldn’t be a wise idea to go of track.”. “You kidding? We’re in a magical museum full of powerful artifacts and all you want is a bloody orb. I ain’t missing this chance to steal something for myself.”. Chloe walks off towards the hall, with Drake giving a watchful, almost critical eye as he quietly groans. Coming to the front of the hall, both of them saw countless mystical items varying shape and size. “Wow. Look at all this cool stuff.”. Chloe walked through the hall and saw something that caught her eye. It was an elegantly designed piece of clothing of refined red silk, the stitching pattern displayed a cluster of golden sparkles, all neatly fitted into the shape of a two interconnecting swirls. The cloth was proudly displayed on a wall covered with glass for all to witness. “This looks so amazing. I bet it would look great on my bed.”. She begins to approach the cloth, but stops and says: “Wait a sec.”. She pulls out a pocket mirror and grabs a handful of blush powder. Chloe blows the powder towards the display and uncovers an invisible laser circle around it. “Knew it.”. She inspects the circle and notices that it was slightly leaning out near the bottom. Chloe tries to lift the glass cover, prying her fingers inside as she lifts. The girl tries to squeeze through the gap, so close to the cloth, but the glass panel was too near the laser circle to lift any higher. She turns to Drake and asks: “Mind lending hand?”. “If you want it so badly, shouldn’t you display the determination to achieve what you desire.”. “Hm. That’s a fancy way of saying no.”. Chloe puts the glass down and digs into her purse. Pulling out a pair of tweezers, she lifts the glass again and slowly grabs the blanket. Chloe pulls out from its display and backs away with cloth in hand. Grabbing her prize, she lightly giggles and said: “Got it.”. She rubs the blanket to her face to feel the comfortable silk along her skin. “Ah, it’s so soft. I’m defiantly using this as a blanket.”. “Just then, the cloth vanishes, along with Chloe’s arms.”. The girl is shocked and starts to panic. “Huh! What happened!? Where are my arms!?”. Drake puts hand over Chloe’s to stop her from scream. “Shh! Calm down.”. He grabs the air beside the girl and pulls on something. The cloak re-materializes along with Chloe’s arms. She rubs her arms together saying: “They’re back! What happened?”. Drake walks over to the glass display and sees the panel with weird lettering. “This says that this artifact is Altara’s chameleon cloak. A magic shroud that turns whatever it covers invisible.” Chloe looks at the cloak and puts it over herself, becoming completely transparent. She giggle and asks: “Can you see me, Drake?”. “Not a trace.”. “Bet you can’t guess where I am.”. Drake chuckles and says: “I may not be able to see you...”. Using his hear, he is able to track Chloe through the sound of her footstep. Grabbing the air beside him, he then says: “But I can clearly hear you.”. He pulls the cloak right off of her, uncovering her for all to see. “Hey! No fair!” Chloe says. “An artifact like this is rather useful. But it cannot mask sound or scent. Like every other tool, you must understand the in and outs of this cloak. Realize its strengths and weaknesses to use it as effectively as possible.”. Drake tosses the cloak back to Chloe. She looks at him and sees him exiting the exhibit. “Now come. If we dawdle any more. We could be caught.”. Opening the door to the hall of deities, they saw a collection of big statues circling the room. Lines etched in the floor swirl around from the statues all the way to the center. “Behold. The hall of deities. Through here are statues of the most famous gods and goddesses in known history. Each of them great and powerful their own right.”. In the far back of the hall, centered among all the statues was a woman in roman robes. As Chloe approach the statue, she feel a sensation of familiarity as she stared at its figure, wondering why she felt such a sense of nostalgia. “And this...is their queen. Ruler of all mystic beings and deities. The amazonian goddess-”. “Hera.” Chloe finishes. “Yes. You’ve heard of her?”. “No. The name just...popped in my head.”. The stares down towards the statue and sees an oval slot underneath. “In order to uncover the Orb of blood, we must place a mystic item of great power into the base of the statue.”. Chloe realized what the shape of the slot reminded her of and pulled out her Amazon Crystal. She was about to put the pink gem in, but stopped as she said: “Wait a minute.”. She pulls back her crystal and turns to Drake. “Did you just want to use my crystal? Is this why you really needed me?” she angrily questioned. Drake simply stares at Chloe, not giving a response to her accusation. “Did you just drag me along her so you could get your precious orb? Was all that stuff you said about me being special a lie?...Well?” Drake take a deep breath and professed: While it’s true that we did need your crystal, I meant every word about your unique abilities.”. If we wanted to, we could have swiped your crystal in the night while you slept. But we wanted to see what you were capable off.”. Chloe begins to calm down as Drake explains. “During this night I have watched as you displayed your stealth and thieving skill beautifully. Strategizing through each situation after the next, utilizing whatever tool you had available in ways that would leave the most cunning of thieves impressed. And it was not due to that crystal. It was all thanks to you.” Drake says, tapping Chloe’s forehead near the end, calming the girl down. “We would have never gotten this far without you, Ms. Chloe. I think that be fair to let you do the honors.”. She turns back to the statue and thinks for moment before inserting her Amazon Crystal in the slot. The crystal fits into place, making the eyes of the statue glow pink, the other statues begin to glow pink in unison. The lines on the floor glow, trailing from the statues to the middle of the hall. Once the pink energy trails to the center, the middle of the floor begins to open up, revealing a red orb infused with pink tracings standing on the end of a pink glass pipe. Both of them approach the stand, with Drake and taking the orb. “The orb of Blood. Infused with the power of the gods.”. He starts to lightly chuckle with the powerful sphere in his grasp, then turns to Chloe. “Ms. Chloe...For not for you, I would not be possess this powerful artifact. You have my most humble gratitude.”. “Hee hee, thanks. You can just call me Chloe, Chloe Spicer. Honestly, Ms. Chloe just sounds a little too formal.”. “Hmm. Very well.” Drake says as he nods his head. Just then, a weird noise starts to blare through the entire museum. “What’s that sound?” Chloe asks. “It the alarm. We must make our escape.”. Chloe runs to the Hera statue and tries to grab her Amazon Crystal from the slot, but it was locked in place. “My crystal is stuck. I can’t get it out.”. “Chloe, we must take leave immediately, else the security will swarm us.” Drake warns. “I’m not leaving without my crystal. It’s a family heirloom.”. They then see the doors slam shut, locking them inside the hall. The floor on the pedestal was on began to rise, Drake jumping of the platform. Turning around, he saw a giant fox dressed in armor. It’s fiery eyes staring at them one would stare at its upcoming prey. Chloe begins to back up, while she sees Drake glare the monster as it growls at him. “Fear not, Chloe Spicer. I will not let this monster bring harm to you. You worry about unhinging your precious crystal from the statues grip and I shall vanquish this beast. Consider it my thanks.” he says as he takes a fighting stance. Chloe turns back to try and get her crystal out, while Drake prepares to face the giant fox before them. The fox swipes at Drake with its sharp claws from the side. He ducks under, the beasts attack missing. It swipes again, this time over head. Drake gets under the fox and strikes under its elbow. The fox retracts its limb and shakes it about. The monster tries to bite at Drake instead. The young man jumps in the air to avoid its gaping maw. The fox looks around, trying to find where its prey went, only finding Chloe trying to pull out her crystal. The girl turns around and sees the fox approaching her, barring its sharp fangs. Before the fox could bite, something pulls it away. Chloe looks up to see Drake grabbing a hold of its ears, pulling the fox away from her. “Your fight is with me, beast.” Drake tells it. The fox yelps out as it tries to shake him off. Drake keeps his footing on the beasts head. It then runs around the hall, trying to make Drake get off. The beast charged towards one of the statues, the young warrior jumps off just before it slams its head. As the oversized dog falls to its side, Drake sees its chest and stomach unprotected by the surrounding armor. Chloe struggles to pull her crystal out form the base, not even moving an inch. After catching her breath, she once again digs into her purse, saying: “Come on. Gotta have something in here that can pry it out.”. She pulls out a set of nail clippers and pulls out the lever. “Close enough.”. Chloe starts to wedge the nail clipper behind the crystal. The fox jumps at Drake in an effort to pounce on the young man. Drake dodges foreword, getting under the beast and delivering a sharp blow to the stomach. The fox jumps back with a yelp and looks back at its opponent, seeing Drake give it a sharp, intimidating look. Not wanting to be beat, the fox growls at him lunges straight at him. Drake gets ready to counter attack, when the fox jumps right over him and head for one of the statues. Stopping at the statue of Ares, the fox pulls the sword from the its hand and holds it into its mouth. “Oh. A change of tactics I see? Perhaps you’re not the mindless animal I took you for.”. The fox charges at him, swinging the 20 foot sword upwards at Drake. Drake dodges to the side and hits the fox in the leg. The fox jumps back, and thrusts at the young man. Drake jumps up and onto the sword, runs up and strikes the beast in the eye. He jumps afar, watching as the fox shakes its head and flails the sword around. Once it regains its composure, the fox jumps up, pointing its sword towards Drake as it descends. Hejumps towards the descending beasts, running across the sword and the foxes back, grabbing its tail. When it lands, the sword sparks across the marble floor as it slides. Drake swings under and strikes another blow to the stomach. Landing on the floor, Drake watches as the fox jumps towards the other side of the hall. After recoiling back, the mighty fox throws its blade into the air. At the apex of the throw, the blade splits apart, turning into a three pronged sword. The fox catches the grip of the blade in its mouth and points it at Drake, him giving an interested look. It dashes towards him, aiming its three blades vertically. The young man sidesteps away from the fox as it charges. He sees the fox turn the blade sideways and quickly swings towards him. Drake jumps just in time to dodge its attack. “A sly fox. Clearly one that’s been trained. But by whom?”. As he lands, Drake sees the fox turning around, getting ready to swing again. The fox swings its blade at, Drake jumping out of the way. “Trained or not, you lack the planning of a real warrior. You can’t possibly hope to match wits with-”. The fox quickly turns its sword vertically and chops at Drake. “What!?”. As Chloe tried to pry her crystal out of the base, she hears a loud crash behind her. She looks back and sees a big cloud of dust in front of the fox, it’s blade piercing through the cloud. The dust clears and she sees Drake, holding back the tip of the sword with his bare hands. She hears Drake laugh and say: “So close…But not close enough.”. He yanks the blade out of the fox’s mouth and tosses it at the door, breaking it into pieces. The fox begins to rush for its blade, jumping over Drake. “No you don’t.”. Drake jumps straight up toward the beast underbelly, striking its already bruised stomach. The beast falls to the ground near its blade. Drake lands and watches as the fox slowly gets up and pick up the blade once more. It limps towards him, breathing heavily as it tries to inch its way towards its opponent. “Hm. You’ve put up quite a fight. Far more then I’ve expected from any animal. For that, I shall give you a swift end.”. Drake dashes toward his animal opponent. The fox gives one last swing in hopes to strike him down, but ultimately misses as Drake delves towards its underbelly and strikes the center of its chest with all his might. The poor fox’s mouth loosens, dropping its three pronged sword before falling to the ground. With that fight done, Drake walks over to Chloe, who was watching the fight. “So, Chloe. Have you retrieved your crystal yet?”. “Ah...I-I...Hang-hang on a second.” the girl says as she turns back to her crystal. Chloe continues to try and pry the gem out of the base. The statues eyes above them dim, as does do the others and line on the floor. With that, Chloe’s Amazon Crystal pops out. “Ha! Got it!”. She turns to Drake with her gem in hand and says: “Okay, now we can go.”. Both of them hear howling near the exit, the sound of gorillas approaching echoing towards the hall. “I’m afraid be might be too late.”. Chloe looks in her bag and says: “I don’t think so.”. A pack of apes storm into the hall, looking around for their intruder. Some of them gather around the fallen fox, trying to awaken it. No matter what they tried, it would not wake. The gorilla’s sadly moan, morning their fallen comrade. One of the apes stands tall and shouts at the pack. It begins to point in all different directions, making all of them spread out. Along the walls and around the statues, they look everywhere through the room, not seeing the bottoms of two pairs of shoes that sneak through the archway and out of the hall of deities. When both of them were out of site, Chloe and Drake lift the Chameleon Cloak. “Good thinking Chloe. You managed to get us out of a tight spot. You might just make a good thief yet.”. “Thanks, but what about you? You took down that giant fox with nothing but your bare hands. I...Just- Just who are you?”. “In time. But first we must quickly take our leave. We are not out of danger just yet.”. “No problem. We’ll just use this cool new blanket all the way out of the museum.”. “No.” Drake denies. “Wwwhy not?”. “It would not be wise to use only one tool in your arsenal. Cainwest might have counter measures for invisibility.”. They began to hear sound of a stamped approaching. “We have no time to waste. We need to move.” Drake says. Both of them run through the halls, trying to stay out of the packs site. Up ahead was a narrow stretch of hall with various items, armors, and magical weapons of various shape and size. “We need to slow them down. Knock everything down in your way.” Chloe said. “On it.”. Drake leaps ahead and kicks down a large heavy set of armor. Chloe puts her amazon crystal back on and uses her whip to knock over a glass case containing a magic artifact. While speeding by, Drake snatched up a set of spears and threw them behind him, scattering and piercing through the walls and floor. Chloe dragged down a bunch of low crystals down to the ground. As she did, the Chameleon cloak that was hanging out of her bag reflected out. They look behind them and see the pack of patrol climbing through the debris. The pack then rushes down the hall, not seeing Chloe and Drake right above. Landing back on the ground, Chloe sighs and says: “Pretty close there, right?”. “We should not relax yet. Not until we’re safely out of the den of beasts. Drake turns around and starts running to the right. Chloe looks over and sees something to the left and says: “Wait, wait! I think I know where we are.”. Drake turns around and sees Chloe running in the opposite direction. He catches up to see Chloe staring down at the hall decorated with stone tablets, the disintegrating beams still shining down. “If we’re here. Then the room we came in through shouldn’t be far.”. “Yes, but we’re in a hurry. It would take too long for us to cross and the guard might surround us any minute.”. “I know, but I have an idea. Rip out a piece of the floor.”. “Why?”. “I noticed that the lights don’t affect the marble. We just need to hold a big piece over ourselves like an umbrella and we’ll be fine.”. “Of course. Stand back.”. Chloe quickly back away, leaving Drake to rip up a big piece of the marble floor. He holds the big tile over head, saying: “Come on!” Both of them run across the hallway, the tile over them shielding them from the rays. After traversing through the hall, they see a pack of gorillas running towards them. Drake throws the slab of marble at them, giving him and Chloe a little time to escape. Both of them run towards the hall with the statues. “We’re almost there.”. When they got to the center of the hall, they saw three packs of ape guards, blocking the other halls and climbing up towards the glass ceiling. They look behind them and see the horde behind them blocking the way back. All four groups of primate begin to slowly approach, Chloe and Drake putting their hands in the air. “Anymore ideas?” Drake asks. Chloe looks around and sees the two giant statues to her sides. “Just one. Get behind me.”. Drake gets behind Chloe as the mob closes in. The girl then shoots a pair of beams to her sides and blasts the bases of the statues. The giant stone figures come tumbling down towards everyone. Chloe quickly turns around and grabs Drake by his back and ascends. She evades the falling statues, sending them down on the ape guard beneath them. The impact makes the gorillas climbing to the ceiling fall and the glass to break. Through shards and primates, both of them fly through the ceiling and out of the Cainwest museum. Back in the limousine, Drake was admiring his newfound blood orb, its red body reflecting off the lights. “Such magnificence.”. He puts the orb down and looks over to Chloe on the other side. “Chloe Spicer. I would like to personally thank you for assisting me in this endeavor. You have my upmost gratitude.”. “Thanks, but I want to know something.” she bold asks. Drake puts the orb to his side and listens. “Oh, and what might that be?”. “Not to sound rude, but you’ve told me very little about who you are and where you came from. Why you were spying on me and why you needed my help of all people. I wants answers, now!”. “Of course…Where to start?...I suppose with myself. My full name...is Drake Young, and I am the leader of an organization composed of youths of varying, but impressive talents.”. “Really?” Chloe responded. She thought that his last name sounded familiar, her dad mentioning somebody with the same sir name. “Whats this organization do, exactly?” she boldly asks. “I’m afraid I can’t leak that information just yet.”. “Oh, come on. You can say it. I promise not to tell.” Chloe says, leaning in and giving him the most cutesy eyes she can. “Try as you might, charm will not persuade me, Ms. Spicer”. The act not working, she sits back in a huff. “As I’ve said before. I’ve had my eye on you for quite a while now. This heist was a test, meant to show case what you are capable of in certain situations.”. “A test?...Did I pass?” Drake lightly chuckles and takes a moment to respond. “With flying colors.”. “Woo hoo, yeah! Does that mean I get to join your club.” Chloe asked with a hopeful smile. “On no. Not yet, I’m afraid.”. The girl smile quickly vanishes, replaced with an upset frown. “We’re still going through a few revisions. This organization is still...relatively new.”. “So when can I join?” Chloe says impatiently. “All in due time, Ms. Spicer...All in due time.”. After dropping off Chloe near her home, the girl waving back as she departs. After bidding farewell Drake pulled out his phone and dialed a contact. The phone rings, on the other side was a familiar voice greeting with: “Yo Drake, how’d the heist go?”. “Splendid. I gave her your pointers and she performed beautifully. You would be really impressed.”. “Great! So you think she might be a good fit.”. “Oh, I have no doubt about that. She will fit in quite well, Alisha.”. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- 7th chapter here. Drake was pretty fun to write. Drake belongs to: PrincessCallyie

[anime-imagines-galore]

Rohan Art Museum Date

((Like the Jotaro fic, this is based off a trip I took recently (Dallas Museum of Art and Baltimore Museum of Art) and this is dedicated to @brandosimagine. I personally don’t like Rohan but who else would go to a freaking art museum and I had some harsh ideas on some of the more contemporary pieces, much like the fandom’s favorite mangaka. Also under the cut cuz it’s 2.1K words))

    You were damn near close to crying and silent laughter shook your entire frame as you eyed the man next to you. An elegant hand cupped his chin and mouth while the other tapped on the hip he had jutted out as he took in the piece before him. One foot tapped ferociously and the rest of his face was contorted in the most disgusted grimace you had ever seen and you waited excitedly for his verdict.

“What the fuck is this?” laughter threatened to bubble over as you waited for the rest of his verdict. “The color scheme is atrocious, the composition, nauseating, and what does this have to do with ancient cultural pieces? This is contemporary! What is wrong with the placement of these pieces?!” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, his hand hiding his amused smirk as you tried to keep quiet despite the fact you were laughing so hard. Honestly, other than finding inspiration for his art, he knows that his harsh words brings a light to your eyes that he’d give anything to see again. “I can’t stand to look at this anymore. Let’s go.” The sketchbook in his hand was still surprisingly blank even though the two of you have been through the entire contemporary exhibit.

 “Nothing caught your eye?” you ask jokingly, still breathless from your laughing fit. His scowl returned, though not as harsh, and the sassiness of his walk only sharpened as his agitation rose.

“Please. I trust my reader’s intelligence to understand such a complex story but whatever inspiration I get from these pieces will give them whiplash. Now, here's something intriguing."

    You watched as he sat before a collection of renaissance paintings and started sketching. Even though he sketched pretty fast there was still an entire collection before him and that prompted you to look around. You didn't have the same critical eye as Rohan but that didn’t stop you from criticizing the art the same way the mangaka would. Just the thought of doing so made you smile fondly as you shook your head. In all honesty, the pieces weren't as bad as Rohan made them out to be. It was probably because he has such high standards but the art was truly amazing. Sure, the layout was a little wonky (I mean, maybe, who goes to the art gallery often enough to figure that out) but it was nice to see the stark difference between the exhibits. Contemporary next to ancient culture, ancient culture next to abstract sculptures, sculptures next to religious pieces and so forth.

    After staring at the pieces for a while, you figured it was time for you to go back to where you left Rohan. It wasn't until you turned and saw him quickly tapping his foot did you realize that he'd probably been standing there for a while. As earlier stated, he draws fairly fast and could've sketched the entire collection in just a handful of minutes instead of an hour or two like a normal person. A hand on one cocked hip and gracefully arched eyebrow meant that you were in for an earful. Ducking your head in shame, you shuffled to the tall man and looked up at him through your eyelashes, hoping this would soften him up a bit. If anything, his brow arched higher and he sneered at you down his nose. 'Here we go.' you thought mentally rolling your eyes.

 "Do not go on without me again. You were the one who dragged me here-"

"You're the one who asked me…."

"-to get my verdict on these pieces." he said moving on as if there was no interruption. "Being here happened to be of interest for reference. And you wouldn't have been able to get into the private sections without me. Don't get it confused." turning sharply on his heel, he walked toward the next exhibit and tossed an arrogant "Try to keep up." over his shoulder.

Grumbling, you hustled a few steps to catch up and made sure to, if not match his steps just to annoy him, then keep up.

    Lengthening his stride for the sake of being awful, Rohan nearly walked right past the next exhibit. When the mangaka was sketching and looked up to realize you weren't there beside him, it didn't worry him too much at first but the anxiety of possibly losing you in a huge building after a few fruitless minutes of searching caught up with him. He didn't necessarily ask you to go to the art gallery with him per say, he just planted the idea in your head. He wasn't exactly sure how to say "Can you go to the art gallery with me? I would rather be alone but I really enjoy your company and I know my criticism will make you laugh, which I love, by the way," without being out of character. It was true that he wasn't fond of contemporary art but he laid an extra thick layer of venom to his words just to hear you laugh at them. Seeing you not there when he was sketching hurt him more than he cares to admit for whatever reason. He usually knows what he wants and is proud to say that there's not a single thing that he doesn't know about himself but emotions are much too slick to grasp, especially when it comes to you.

 "Rohan! Slow down! You'll miss the exhibit." he heard you huff behind him. Realizing that you were right, he stopped but because he wanted to, not because you told him.

    Next were the sculptures. Rohan made poses from the sculpture's shapes but his sketches were coming out messy from his frustration. Slamming down his pencil with a dramatic sigh, he looked up at the sculpture as though it insulted him. He suddenly swung back to look at you, startling you in the process. A sharp catwalk to you ended with another dramatic sigh. You didn't even bother to hold back your eye roll.

 "I wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier." your eyes widen in shock as a smile crept its way onto your face at the man. He was actually apologizing and being a nice person for once- "I'm glad I got that off my chest. Now I can sketch again in peace." Wow. Just as you were complementing him. You can't say that you're surprised but he actually said sorry no matter how passive aggressive it was.

      He went back to sketching, not even bothering to sit down as he walked from piece to piece in rapid succession. You could tell by the way he was hunched over his sketchbook that he wasn't taking in the meaning of the art. After jumping to the tenth piece in a matter of two minutes, you walked up to him and laid a hand on his arm. The sudden jolt made him misplace a line and he looked up ready to yell but whatever he was about to say died on his tongue when he saw your expression. You looked up at him with such sadness in your eyes that made him take a sharp inhale. The initial goal of this trip was to spend time together since you were the only person he likes other than Koichi. He sighs again, this time a quiet and very real sigh escaped his lips as he closed his sketchbook.  He didn't want to admit that it actually pained him to see you this way but he also didn’t want to keep staring at those sad eyes. He sent a quick glance to the hand on his arm, which you removed. The great Rohan could only be so nice at one time.

    The two of you walked through the other exhibits side by side as Rohan took time to examine the pieces instead of draw the first thing he thought of. A cold glare whenever he reached for his sketchbook made the man grit his teeth in frustration but he obeyed nonetheless, begrudgingly, of course. That didn't stop him from taking pictures, though, and he took plenty to make up for the fact that he couldn't use his sketchbook. Out of sheer pettiness, Rohan had kept quiet and didn't disclose his opinion on the artworks. He realized this was worsening your mood and decided it was time to enact his second act of kindness of the day.

The two of you stood before a collection of fanged stone masks when Rohan let out a theater scoff.

 " 'The Stone Masks were found in a rainforest in Mexico in the early 1900s. The exact use of the masks are unknown as are the creators but urban legend states that once dowsed in blood and worn, the wearer becomes a vampire.' What kind of half-assed backstory is this? This sounds like something from a D-list 80s Halloween movie, not something that belongs in an art gallery." he hums and smirks evilly as he heard you start to laugh. He could tell you were trying to hold back to not give him the satisfaction of winning but it was a challenge.

"Well, considering some of the other pieces here, this fits right in." he sneaks a glance at you and sees that your lips were pursed in a tight line, trying to hold back any reaction.

" 'The Red Stone of Aja is said to be an amplifier to the masks. With the mask on and the Stone inserted, it turns its wearer into the Ultimate Lifeform.' Putting rock into more rock turns its wearer into the ultimate lifeform? Sure, okay. 'Some speculation is thought that its creators were the Pillar Men. Many died out but those left were-' Kars, Whamuu, and Esidesi? AC/DC like the band? Were they all named after bands?! Goodness this writing is lazy! Names should have substance, not be named after bands!"

      Your soft chortles rose to full out snorts as you were unable to hold back the laughter anymore. Tears leaked from tightly closed eyes and laughter overtook your entire body. It was one thing for Rohan to pick at certain aspects of a piece but it was something else when he shredded its entire history. There was no story greater than whatever he came up with himself and Rohan's not afraid to let someone know when their writing is as interesting as watching paint dry. He also knew there was a strange emotion eating away at him when he saw how upset you were with him and he had to change it. The great Rohan Kishibe was perfect in every aspect and nobody in their right mind had any reason to hate him and he definitely wasn't going to give one to one of the few people he cared about. As much as Rohan could care, of course. A triumphant smile played on the mangaka's face and he reveled at the fact that he was the one to reduce you to such a state with a few harsh words.

 "Okay, calm down. This is starting to get embarrassing."

"Shut up and let me have this. I haven't laughed this hard in so long…hahahaha~." even so, you calmed but your eyes shone with happiness.

      Rohan inwardly grinned at your change of mood as he didn't want to you to be mad at him anymore. The two of you went through the rest of the museum much of the same way, he would criticize the art and you would laugh at his remarks. Ready to finally leave, the two of you walked out and idled on the front steps of the building.

 "Today was fun. We should do it again sometime." you told the mangaka.

Fighting down a blush with a shit-eating grin, Rohan responded, "Of course who had fun. You were with me aftera-"

"But don't think I forgave you for earlier. It's one thing to be upset but another to offend me. Next time I see you, I'm kicking your ass." smiling at his pale face, you turned to walk back home. "See you later! I won't go easy on you either!" throwing a wave over your shoulder, you bounded down the stairs with a skip in your step.

      Rohan didn't even bother to try to mask his surprise and fear as you could very well kick his ass. Walking down the stairs at a slower pace he made his way home, thankfully in the opposite direction. Another genuine smile made his way onto his face at the thought of you. He really was in deep, wasn't he?

[memorytile0-blog]

Studio Tour!

Hey everyone!

It’s been over a year since I moved into my new house, so you know what that means – time for an updated studio tour!! Yeahhhh!!

Same as with my last delay, I kept putting off sharing this room with y’all because I really wanted to feel like it was “done” first. Even though, realistically, nothing is ever finished in my home – I’m always moving things around! I had a little kick in my pants via a Sewing Space feature over at Tilly & the Buttons , which forced me to suck it up and take the dang photos already. What you’re about to see is my studio in it’s natural state – it’s tidy, but not show-room perfect (i.e., I really should reorganize my fabric shelve, but, priorities).

While I was compiling the photos for this post, I ended up falling down a pretty deep rabbit hole of my past studio spaces. You may not be aware of this, but I’ve had a dedicated sewing room in some shape or form since 2006. My tastes & decorating have definitely changed a lot over the years, which I personally find pretty interesting! I think it’s also relevant as a lot of people comment on how well-organized my space is – which, it should be, I’ve been working on it for over 12 years! 😛 So before we jump into the NEW studio, I want to share a little bit of my evolution first!

Apologies in advance for the poor photos – it looks like my photography skills have also evolved, at least a little 😉

2006: My very first dedicated sewing space, back when I lived in Midtown in Nashville TN. I loved that apartment so, so much and stayed there for several years – it was a beautiful old building with crazy cheap rent. I eventually couldn’t handle the poor maintenance or the noisy bars getting built up around me, so I moved… but not before moving my sewing room all over this one apartment. First stop was in what I think was the dining room – or possibly a small servant’s quarters (it was a 100+ year old building right by Vanderbilt with a layout that suggested this might have been the intention). It was a VERY small room – like I’ve had bigger walk-in closets than this space – but it was perfect for a tiny sewing set-up.

Also, if you are curious – the dress I’m wearing is New Look 6557, which was the first proper sewing pattern I made by myself and I made DOZENS of that dress lol

2007: Still in the same apartment in Midtown, but I moved shop into what was the bedroom (with my bedroom in the living room, and the tiny dining room being a sitting room). My ex boyfriend and I painted the room orange, and then he claimed it for his office (a bold move considering he never paid any rent). As soon as I kicked his ass out, I reclaimed the room for myself. So this is my “fuck you” sewing room haha. I also got Amelia, my cat, around the same time – for the same reason 🙂

Very little of this room is still in my possession! I have all new sewing machines and furniture. The only things I still have are the desk chair and that Little Prince poster. Also, lol at another New Look 6557 being on the dress form. And, yes, I had 4 irons. I did a lot of dumpster diving at Vanderbilt University back then and irons were a popular thing to throw away I guess.

2008: Decided I was DEFINITELY worth the biggest room in the apartment, so I moved my studio to the living room (and took back the bedroom for, well, my bedroom). This room was massive and I looooved that space so much. Painted it green, which in retrospect… not my best idea. I built a makeshift long table out of some old cabinets and a piece of plywood covers with peel and stick tile. And I upgraded my machines – I still use both of those today! Actually found the receipt the other day while I was cleaning out my files; I bought them at the end of 2007 :3

For funsies, here’s a photo of me at that time – scene hair and all! I made that dress with knit fabric from Walmart haha

2009: Same room, with some updates! I repainted the entire thing bright turquoise (which became “my color” as far as studios are concerned!), as well painted my furniture. Got a cutting table (just one of those cheap ones from Joann’s), some new storage, and made curtains. This was taken over Christmas, hence the sparkly tree (which I still have today!)

2010: Ok, last one! This is the saddest looking photo ever, ha, but it’s literally the only one I have! I ended up moving out of my Midtown apartment and in with a friend who lived in South Nashville. He never used his living room, so I took it over as my sewing room! I had to work around the existing furniture, but I made it work. Lived here for about 2 months and then I moved to East Nashville to live with my BFF.

Other sewing spaces have their own blog post! 2011: Yellow Sewing room in East Nashville, TN 2011: Pale Blue sewing room in East Nashville, TN 2012: Giant Turquoise sewing room in West Nashville, TN 2015: Oddly Shaped Turquoise sewing room in Kingston Springs, TN 2017: Apartment sewing room in West Nashville, TN

Whew! Ok, this post has gotten long already and we aren’t even at the good stuff yet!

Anyway, here is where I am today! I moved into this sweet 1935 Tudor in 12 South/Nashville a little over a year ago. It’s a wonderful house + neighborhood and I really love living here. I use the second bedroom as my studio – it’s very small (just barely 11′ x 11′), and there are two doors, plus a closet, which made furniture arranging a little bit of a challenge! I had to take a lot of measurements and draft up a few room layouts before I figured out a good fit for everything, but it was definitely worth it.

The back half of the house was originally carpeted, and before I moved in I negotiated with the landlord to have the carpets removed (they were gross. Not, like, “ewwww carpet, gross” but like “10+ year old covered in stains gross”) and we were both delighted to discover the original hardwoods underneath. I also had her paint the walls a bright white, which really helped the overall vibe of the room. Before I moved in, this house was dark and dirty… it’s pretty fabulous now, though. I love it so much.

Also, because this comes up often – yes, I move a lot. I’m a renter, and my city is unfortunately going through some growing pains with skyrocketing rents + half the affordable houses either getting bulldozed (to build more $1M houses) or turned into AirBNBs (do not even get me started on the tragedy that is AirBNB over here, omg. It is a big, big problem and I encourage you if you visiting a popular city like Nashville to be very weary of any AirBNB that clearly is *only* an AirBNB and not someone’s home). I would love to buy and stop moving, but right now it just is not feasible. I like to think I’ve found a great long-term home here, but this is an expensive/trendy neighborhood so fingers crossed my landlord doesn’t try to turn it into a short term rental or sell it to the highest bidder.

Details about all products (including furniture & decor) are at the end of this post!

Here is the studio when you enter through the hallway in the back of the house!

As full of a view of the room that I could get!

The back wall (facing the door you enter through) holds all my sewing machines. I built the long table with IKEA components (this will be a running theme in this room haha), because I wanted to house all my machines on one single table that I could just roll down in my chair. There are lots of drawers which is great for storing notions and supplies. The windows get a lot of light and a very pretty view, but there are several mature trees in front so I also get some privacy.

Another view of the table and machines. You can also see part of the side porch through the window.

Above the machines, I hung lights for some extra brightness in the room. True story – I rarely use these lights, as I realized immediately after that the main overhead light could hold 3 bulbs and 2 were blown out. I replaced all the bulbs with super high wattage daylight bulbs and HOLY SHIT BRIGHTNESS BATMAN. It’s like high noon in this room now, all the time! It’s amazing!!! Y’all can have your ~ambient lighting~ all you want but I am all bright, all the time haha

Looking to the left of the machines, this is where I keep my bookshelves that hold sewing/knitting/art books, Papercut Patterns, and knitting supplies. All my yarn fits in that one big basket 😛 I also keep WIP patterns in the magazine holder on top of the bookshelf. Over the book shelves, I hung two long wall shelves – the boxes store swatches, zippers, and lingerie supplies, and the top shelf is purely decorational. Those plants are fake as fuck, btw.

Here’s another angle – thread racks, an extra stool, and a lamp that rarely gets used (again, daylight lightbulbs are the BOMB you guys).

If you continue down that wall to the left, you’ll end up back at the door in which you entered. There is a door in the middle of the wall that leads to the side porch. This is where my dressform lives. I wasn’t crazy about the large blank wall, but didn’t want to spring for wallpaper (or bother painting… I like painting, but I’m not a fan of painted accent walls and I didn’t want to paint the entire room), so I bought these wall stickers on Amazon and made a dotty wall! It makes me so happy! 🙂

So, going back to the machines and swinging right – you will get my fabric stash! Really thought about reorganizing this for the photo (it actually does need to be sorted and culled), decided not to haha. My old shelf that I’ve been using since 2009 wasn’t going to fit in this room, so I passed it on to a friend and bought something a little more modular. This area holds my fabric, PDF patterns, embroidery and art supplies, and my snap setters.

Next to my fabric is my ironing station! I started out in this room with a proper ironing board, but I desperately needed more storage so I swapped it out for a tabletop ironing board. I can’t take credit for this – I totally took the idea from Jasika as she made the exact same thing. It’s perfect! I padded out the top of an IKEA kitchen island with a few layers of cotton batting, then wrapped fabric (it’s Robert Kaufman Essex linen, specifically, if you are curious lol) around the whole thing and stapled it down. The station has drawers that hold ironing supplies and camera equipment, and shelves to hold my current projects and my Cricut Maker. The bucket of fabric next to the table holds scraps that are too big to throw away but not big enough to justify putting back on the shelf.

My iron is a gravity feed iron (I’m still using the same original one I got back in 2012!); the tank is suspended from the ceiling with a heavy duty plant hanger. Rather than keep the iron on my table, I found a small metal shelf on Amazon (used to house tv speakers) and attached that to the wall. This frees up space on my board, plus makes me feel a little less wigged-out about having an iron on top of cotton + wood. Over the station, I have a hanging light that is plugged directly into the same power strip that powers the iron. This way, I always know if the iron is on or off – and I never leave it on by accident!

The ironing station my cat’s favorite place to perch (second favorite is behind the sewing machines), so she can look out the window! I have a really great back yard, but unfortunately my crappy back neighbors tore down the entire tree line that separates us so I now have to stare at their house instead of beautiful green trees (and now no privacy! Boo!). Also, unfortunately for them, this has not deterred me from changing directly in front of that window haha

Next to the ironing station is my desk! This is where I get all my work done, unless I’m sitting on my porch (which is equally pretty great). On the wall beside my printer is where I hang my rulers, as well as an inspiration bulletin board and my fabric swatch board (where I keep track of the fabrics I want to sew next).

Next to the desk is the tiny closet. Sorry about this picture – this was the only way to not make it loo horrifying haha. I keep the rest of my patterns in here, organized in boxes. PDF patterns that I am working on are hung with clips on a small tension rod, and rolled PDF patterns are stored in a small trash can on the floor. I also keep supplies for my other job in here, on the top shelf. Rather than stack things, I built shelves with plywood so this closet is basically a giant shelf behind a door.

For more info about how I organize my patterns, please check out this blog post!

One side of my cutting table has drawers (holding pincushions, muslins, extra interfacing scraps, and lesser-used sewing tools) and bins (holding swimsuit fabric and… well I just realized that other bin is empty lol it was holding a WIP that I finished).

The other side of my cutting table holds all my scissors, and more bins (boxes have leather scraps and silk scraps, bins have classroom supplies and supplies for when I need to take my machine on the road for my job).

Finally, under the table is space for a big trash can and a rolling kitchen cart, which I use to hold sewing supplies and general art supplies.

Some detail shots:

This wall makes me so happy! That jar is holding all my broken/used needles and pins.

These lights make me happy, too! I could only find them in black, so I spray painted them gold.

Embroidery designed and stitched by me 😛 😛 😛

Ok, so almost done! Finally, here are the links to sources for furniture & other stuff. Most of the things in this room are either from IKEA, or secondhand. Spoiler alert! Also please be aware that a lot of these links are affiliate links, meaning I will get a small commission if you click them and end up purchasing something. Just a head’s up!

Wall paint color: Seriously, I have no idea. White?

FURNITURE: Sewing machine table: ALEX drawer unit + LINNMON table top Vintage desk chair: Thrifted Cutting table: 2 KALLAX shelves + LINNMON tabletop + 2 KALLAX drawers + 4 KALLAX casters. Scissor rail is BYGEL RAIL + s-hooks Fabric Shelves: HEJNE shelving unit Bookshelves: thrifted Ironing Station: FORHOJA kitchen cart + metal dvd wall shelf Printer table: KLIMPEN drawer unit Writing desk: Nashville flea market Desk chair: Nashville flea market, spray painted gold and white Wall shelves: EKBY JÄRPEN / EKBY BJÄRNUM Turquoise utility cart: RÅSKOG Dressform: Professional female dressform with collapsible shoulders (also: full review here!)

ACCESSORIES & DECORATIONS: Yellow & white storage boxes: DRÖNA Large white storage boxes: IKEA, discontinued (these are similar) Small white storage boxes: IKEA, discontinued (these are similar) Fake plants: FEJKA Industrial paper roll: Given to me when my old job (advertising) was downsizing and clearing out the art room! Ceiling light (over ironing board): KNAPPA Ceiling lights (over machines): Geometric Light bulb cage pendant (spray painted gold) + Edison light bulbs + HEMMA cord set DMC thread organizer: thrifted Thread racks: given to me by Elizabeth Suzann, but here are some similars on Amazon- thread rack + serger thread rack Sewing room art: Joanna Baker, via Madalynne giveaway “I’ve Made A Huge Mistake” chalkboard sign: Custom made by Kaelah Sewing machine print: Madalynne Polka dot stickers: Gold polka dot wall decals Baskets: thrifted & spray painted gold White floor lamp: NOT floor lamp White desk lamp: Another score from the art supply room cleanout at my old job Small turquoise/white stool: Nashville Flea Market White cutting mats: The Shop Company White deer head: Gift from Elizabeth Suzann Snap setters (only people people always ask!): Purchased secondhand from Elizabeth Suzann

Ok, I think that’s all! Hope you enjoyed the tour 🙂

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Tags: sewing room, studio

Source: https://lladybird.com/2018/09/07/studio-tour/