#I’d use it on a smaller piece or one on my arm I can keep fabric off of easily

[eggs-love-loki]

I had to take off my second skin thing from my back tattoo by myself and if left very strong adhesive residue so I tried to sleep with it uncovered and ended up having to pry my shirt off so today I cut a sandwich bag in half and stuck it there and the fact that it’s still there after a day of music teaching and movement activities testifies just how strong the fucking adhesive is

[bullet-prooflove]

Summer School: Daniel LaRusso x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kiwiwatermelonsuger @sadgenderfluidmaniac @junghwansy2k 

Daniel meets you because of a summer arts program. Him and Amanda have been divorced over a year and they’ve been trying to figure out a way to prise Anthony away from his screen. It’s gotten worse since the split, his son has retreated entirely into the world of video games.  

Daniel can’t help but feel responsible for that. He was the one that told Amanda he was unhappy, the one that made her realise that she was unhappy too. In the beginning he thought maybe if he’d kept his mouth shut they could have persevered but time has given him clarity, they were friends more than lovers and Daniel, he wants passion, he wants romance. He deserves that and so does Amanda.

It's Amanda that finds the program, it allows students to try out different art forms over a six week period. Painting, pottery, metal work. Anthony protests at first but they present a united front, if he doesn’t attend he spends the entire summer without any screen time at all.

The first week Anthony complains relentlessly. Painting is very much not his thing and Daniel happens to agree, he’s all for self-expression but Anthony’s work, it’s beyond terrible.

The same goes for pottery, he comes home with a bowl that’s slanted to one side with weird, wonky edges. Daniel takes it into work and uses it to hold his paperclips.

By the time week three rolls around Daniel expects more of the same, he’s used to Anthony’s sullen moods, he’s been sulking ever since summer school started. Today however when he gets into Daniel’s car, it’s the most animated he’s seen him in years. His eyes are bright, he’s excited. He shows Daniel the motorcycle he’s made out of nuts bolts and wrenches and he’s completely blown away.

“Jak’s been giving me tips on making my own designs.” He tells his father proudly. “We need to hit the art supply store so I can get a sketch book and some pencils.”

That night Daniel calls Amanda after dinner.

“It’s like he’s a completely different kid. I don’t know who this Jak guy is but he’s worked wonders on him. He hasn’t looked at a screen all night.” He tells her as he watches Anthony sketching out design ideas on the kitchen table. “I feel like we should be gifting him a car.”

“Maybe we go smaller.” She says thoughtfully. “Start with some beers from that microbrewery you like. We don’t wanna scare him off by coming on a little too strong.”

“Yea I think I have a six pack somewhere, I’ll drop it off tomorrow morning.” Daniel murmurs, his palm rubbing over the back of his neck. “I’ll ask if he does classes outside of the summer school. I’d like to keep the momentum going.”

He drops Anthony off a little early the next morning so he can pop in and meet the man who has managed to engage his son. He has the six pack of mixed microbrews tucked under his arm when he raps his knuckles on the door and pokes his head inside.

“Hey, I’m looking for Jak.” He says to the woman sorting through the cardboard box of random metal bits and pieces.

“You’ve found her.” You say looking up from your task.

“You’re Jak?” He asks, his dark eyebrows raising as he drinks you in.

You are the furthest thing from metalwork artist that he ever expected. You’re breathtaking for starters, he means that literally, the oxygen catches in his throat when he looks at you.

“You were expecting a man.” You say in an amused tone before gesturing towards the box of beers. “Starting a little early.”

“Ah no.” Daniel says his cheeks colouring just a little as he sets them on the desk beside him. “They’re for you, a thank you for the work you’re doing with Anthony. It’s the first time I’ve seen him engaged with anything other than a video game since the divorce.”

He watches as you approach, his mouth going dry. There’s a sensuality to your movements, a gracefulness and it sends heat flushing through Daniel as he watches your fingertips caress the glass of each of the bottles as you study the flavours.

“A nice variation.” You say before slotting them back in the cardboard. “You’ve picked some of my favourites Mr LaRusso.”

“Danny.” He asserts and the edges of your mouth tip up into a smile.

Something blossoms in his chest and it feels like he’s seeing the sun rise for the very first time. This is what he was missing with Amanda, this passion, this fire.

“Ok Danny.” You say and he loves the way his name rolls off his lips. “What can I help you with?”

“I wanted to know if you do sessions like this after the summer? Anthony, he’s really excited about working with you. My ex-wife and I would really like to keep the momentum going if we can, make sure he has a creative outlet.” Danny tells you as you lean back against the desk.

“I run sessions out of my studio in Santa Monica. Each student works on their own project, they start with their own concept and then develop it, I’m there to show them the techniques, help them make it a reality and they take those skills into the next project.” You inform Danny as he settles beside you. Your perfume floods his senses, something floral with citrus notes, it reminds him of the first days of spring. “The stuff we’re learning in class this week is very basic and Anthony has taken to it really well. I think his interest in mechanics and the way things work definitely helps.”

“Mechanics?” Daniel repeats, crossing his arms over his chest. This is the first time he’s hearing anything about Anthony taking after him in that respect.

“Not the traditional concept like cars and engines, I mean more like cause and effect." You explain as you tuck your hands into the pockets of the cobalt blue blazer you’re wearing. “It’s why he’s so interested in games like Minecraft, he likes to see the effect that one thing has on another, kinda like Mousetrap. He’s trying to figure out how to make things move in his sculpture work.”

“I honestly had no idea he was into any of this stuff.” Daniel says rubbing his palm over the back of his neck.

“Kids don’t really share a lot with their parents at this age.” You reassure him before picking up a post it note and scribbling on it. “Why don’t you come by my studio, get a feel for what I do?”

You hand him the post it note and he studies the address, this thumb tracing lightly over the writing.

“I’ll do that.” He tells you as the bell rings, signalling the start of class. "I’ll try to stop by tonight.”

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[enteroctopusdarkysilis]

✨Bionicle crab !✨

It was, originally, meant to be just another arthropod. However, someone reblogged my previous rahi, along with this comment :

Well, guess what ? Yes, absolutely. I’m glad I saw it because it gave me the inspiration for this monstrosity (and it made me laugh more than I would admit, too). Thanks.

I must recognise that if I compare my rahis, there is a clear pipeline. I don’t think it can go much further in this direction.

Anyways, details/closeups/weird illegal technic I just found out, below the cut !

Front (smol Visorak for scale) :

Because it’s really big. It’s also a good excuse to show off my really fancy and glittery Kanohi. No clue where it comes from but it’s beautiful !

I’m really happy with how mean this things looks, overall. It’s most definitely the bad guy for Toas to fight. It has a really good scale to work with my larger customer Toas [here], but it could also act as a really large rahi for my smaller space-based Toas [here]. Why a large crab stealing Kanohis in space, you may ask ? No idea. I’d have to actually think out a lore for that.

I started the conception with the frame (which does make sense, in theory), then the legs, and finally the shell. This was only partially smart, because that meant I did not account for the shell's mass when building the legs. Essentially, this poor thing can't stand on it's own, so I'm using two technic bars underneath to keep it up right (which are hidden in editing, of course).

Top/Hind (shell) :

I think the shell was pretty decent. I tried to use as little pieces as possible to keep it light, but it's still a lot. Among these pieces can be found one Visorak claw and three Mantax feet, which have a nice texture for organic feet. There is also another foot at the front which comes from an Inika set which I can't seem to find. I'm also using some of these large technic panels, which cover a lot of surface without being too much of a pain to set up (still quite a lot, since they're connected to the feet at at an angle, feet which which are also connected to the frame at an odd angle...) Speaking of Mantax, I alsu used the black-pearl shells, because these, too, have a really organic vibe, and it gave a small touch of pearl which was missing on the body.

I tried to keep the back relatively slick, to avoid something similar to an abdomen since it's not a spider. Still I had to extend it a little bit using the rounded cubical cover, to hide some socket joints, but it's okay-ish.

Neath :

Truly a mess, I must admit. As I started with each side separately, I tried to somehow connect them with the large grey technic frame (in the middle). On either sides, I have a whole bunch of axle connectors, both standard and angled, which allow for the thing to appear rounder than it could have been. The two leg sockets peices at the front are used for the eyes, and the pieces abov (barley visible) is a classic Bionicle shoulders piece clipped backward as a base for the pincers arms.

Pincer :

Or mandatory unusual feet usage. These really works well as any kind of claw or armor, in my opinion. The black arm pieces used here (Hordika leg piece) were particularly good for the job as they technic pin holes in there allowed me to add ad additional socket practically at the same level at the original one (even if I would rather have used black technic bars instead of the light grey ones, but i couldn't find any in my supplies... It's likely the Space station's fault.

Legs :

Or equally mandatory foot out of not foot pieces. Here is a cursed homebrew way to make legs : one Bohrok head part (bricklink call these shoulders ?) to display the piston-like element and serve as structure, linked with Toa Metru legs (which slots above nicely. And then comes the magic trick, for the Rahkshi shells (silveragain, because I have many of these) have a small attachment point toward the end, that is meant to hold the back blades in place; but it also perfectly fits right on the small ledge in the middle of the leg piece ! Granted, it's not a very secure connection, but these two pieces don't need anything else but that to hold. I actually loved this one so much, you can notice two additional Rahkshi shells held similarly on the tope of the crab's shell.

In order to connect the legs individually to the frame, I am using Vahki legs for the exterior limbs, and Pihraka arms for the central ones (these arms have the particular property of having the restrictive sockets on either sides, which makes it good to keep the leg's shape.

The middle sections are made using two simple axle-socket pieces connected by old plates, usually found in technic sets predating the Bionicle them.

…And obviously, I had to make another makeshift studio (I actually really like this one). Have a look at all these terribly assembled elements !

[clumsiestgiantess]

My first piece for the @gtgotcha4gaza fundraiser! This one was donated by @biggnansmol with the prompt Overhead; enjoy!

My body presses close to the ground as I watch the traffic rush by in a cacophony of tremorous footsteps and raucous voices.  I hunch down near the street corner of a building who knows how many thousands of times my size, looking intently out over the giants walking past.  They travel without a single downward glance at the tiny man just barely taller than their palms.

Many, if not most, of my kind avoid anywhere near this kind of foot traffic.  As a borrower, you can only withstand so much noise and movement constantly around you before your instincts tell you to run.  What separates me from the rest is that my instincts can guide me through the crowd of gigantic beings, to other places entirely.  I can make it to stores all the way on a different street if I really want to.  I haven’t, but I can.

Cracked Concrete Colony — my home — lies halfway between the giants’ colony above, and the giants’ watery wasteland below.  You’d think the giants — humans, they call themselves — would try pitching in to help us ever since they found out we exist.  They didn’t.  In fact, they now have the audacity to label us as pests; vermin.  No wonder we decided to stay away from them.  

As a seasoned package-runner, my job is to deliver supplies from our place to other smaller groups above, and sometimes bring supplies back again.  Oh, and myself.  I bring myself back every time.  Not everyone does.

The worst shape I’ve come out of running is a sprained wrist, but there are some who’ve broken bones, lost limbs, and even died on the exact routes I take.  I’m not too worried, though.  My instincts are better than theirs, I’m sure.  No one in the history of my colony — that people know of — has survived as long as me.  I’m the best there is.  Sure, I’ve come a mere arm’s length away from the sole of a shoe multiple times, but that’s normal for my line of work.  Defying certain death is my average Tuesday.

So, once I see a break in the crowd, I make my move.

My brain and eyes work in tandem to spot every potential danger coming at me.  Thankfully it’s mostly coming from the same side.  The first few pairs of feet I dodge with ease — weaving in and out between the giants’ legs with perfect timing to their methodic gait.  

However, one giant hurriedly stumbles through the crowd in the wrong direction.  I have just enough time to brace myself before their foot rushes up to meet me.  For a brief moment, I believe they’ll dash by right overhead, but the idea is short-lived.  

The tip of a gigantic shoe digs into my stomach, catching on my side and kicking me across the rugged surface of the cement walkway.  I cry out in pain as skin tears off my bare arms in shreds and I land in the ditch between the walkway and the awful road of machines.  Rule number one of package-running: never go into the road.  Ever.  Everyone knows it’s certain death.

Agony spreads through my body, but I grit my teeth and bare it.  I have to get back up onto that walkway.  After a few minutes of desperate struggling — getting blown down and dragged backwards by the sheer force of the machines’ speed — I realize it’s pointless.  It’s hard enough just hauling myself up with my scratched arms.  Even without the machines, I don’t think I’d make it.

Just as I break out in a cold sweat, a shadow descends over me.  A giant’s hand grabs me from above — fingers coiling around my midsection.  Shrieking in both fright and pain, I claw at the human’s hand and get this close to biting them, when I’m flipped over and tucked much more securely against their palm.

Only briefly do I stop struggling to wonder why their grip is so cautious before trying to escape it again.  “Hey, no no; it’s ok!  I’ve got you little guy, you’ll be alright.”  I… what?  The giant slides their hand up against me to keep me from squirming out of their grasp.  Their palm settles against my chest and my heart skips a beat.  “Let me just find a safe spot to put you down.”

Fear still spikes through me like lightning at the way their fingers wrap around my torso to keep me still.  My mind screams at me to keep fighting them because they’ll hurt me for sure if I don’t.  However, there’s something about the way they’re handling me — as much as I hate the fact that they are handling me — that deters me from wanting to escape.  

Then there’s the way they spoke… they immediately wanted to assure me that I’d be alright.  The only things I’ve been told by giants are “Get out of here!” and “Oh eww, what the heck are you?!” so it’s quite the unexpected upgrade.

Suddenly, the hands around me slide away and I’m deposited gently in a small alleyway.  I peer hesitantly up at the giant, kneeling down over me.  Their worried expression softens slightly when I do.  “There you go, safely away from the road and people.  Don’t go back there anymore, ok?”  My mouth drops open, utterly shocked.  “Th - Thank.. you?” I say in awed confusion.  How am I not dead?  Were they helping me get out of the road?

With a small smile, they stand back up and walk off into the crowd of other giants.  I was left standing only a storefront or two up from where I began.  In a few minutes it’s as if none of it had happened at all.

Briefly, I think about trying to go after the giant — ask them why they did that for me.  Then, I take a step and my entire body tenses in pain — dragging me out of my stupor.  Actually.. I think I’ll just head back and get healed up.  I’d tested my luck enough for one day.  Even without the giant’s help, I’m still lucky I hadn’t been stepped on, only kicked.

Maybe I’d dodge past my unlikely hero on the walkway sometime again and ask them then.  I’m just lucky that the strangely benevolent giant had given me another chance to keep surviving.  Hauling myself to the street corner once again, I dash off into the crowd, making it home in only a little less time than usual.

[blainesebastian]

beach day (ccg universe)

words: 2,375 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “ccg and austin take luci to the beach and have a beach day, maybe after award season and they’re just having a fun vacation” warnings: none notes: will be posting again when i come back from disney, tuesday-ish. thanks to anyone who reads / comments / likes / reblogs, much appreciated!  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

You know the moment Luci’s feet touch sand that she’s going to be trouble.

She’s never been by the ocean before, so it was obvious to both you and Austin that this small getaway was going to be something. She’s very much used to the park, basically knows that terrain like the back of her hand, can run free under her parent’s gaze to chase squirrels up a tree or talk to some (unwilling) pigeons or find her spot on a swing or slide. But here? New rules, new places to explore.

You make sure you pack everything under the sun for her (pun intended)—sunscreen, floatie swimsuit, a hat, swim shoes, sandcastle building toys, the works. You’ve been to the beach plenty of times, but it’s your first with a toddler.

This was all Austin’s idea, wanting to completely unwind and disconnect after awards season. Nothing too extensive, there’s no need to escape for a complete month or anything, but you can understand the urge to get away and feel refreshed. It’s a restart button. There are so many new projects and passions on the horizon, not to mention Luci makes every day interesting in her own way, you’re just looking forward to unwinding with your little family.

Austin books an air bnb with a patio that leads into the sand and on the water—it’s very exclusive, private, connected to a resort nearby in case they would ever want to be in a pool or visit a restaurant instead of the ocean or cook something. Admittedly, you like the idea of having time to yourself (your husband to yourself), and less possibility of running into any paps (even though you know you’re not completely hidden from the public eye). The almost promise is more than enough.

The resort has a small store that you’re milling around in as Austin takes Luci to the bathroom—you definitely had her use the facilities at the Airbnb before leaving it but, it’s all still a learning curve. Besides, you wanted to get a container of fruit or something to take in the swim bag that you’ve got over your shoulder, perfect to mix with the crackers and cheese that you have already packed. Pushing your sunglasses further into your hair, you adjust your sheer cover-up skirt over your black and white polka-dot two-piece bathing suit. Luci’s got on a matching one piece—you thought you were being very cute and clever with that.

You reach for a small package of pineapple and strawberries at the same time this guy does, both of you kinda doing that awkward laugh and pull-back before he motions for you to go head.

“Thanks,” You smile, picking up the container and checking the price.

“Haven’t seen you around the resort before,” He says, grabbing one for himself and you get what he means even though you know where this is going. The resort is on the smaller side, exclusive, and this is the first time you and Austin have brought Luci over here to check out the small market.

Before you can even say anything—

“Feel like I’d remember someone as pretty as you.”

You let out a slow breath, giving the guy a kind smile, “That’s because I’m actually here with my husband and daughter.”

And you’ve got no idea if the guy thinks it’s some kind of line, because he glances down at your hand and doesn’t see the wedding ring (you’ve taken it off for the beach) and has the audacity to keep going.

“And here I was gonna offer to buy you a drink.”

“She said no,” Austin says as he approaches and you turn to look at him over your shoulder. He’s got Luci in his arms and it looks like he’s put her hair into pigtails since he’s had her. His tone is kinda neutral, probably not to alarm his daughter, but his face is set—eyes a sharp blue, that muscle working in his jawline. “You havin’ trouble with that?”

The guy clears his throat and shakes his head once before backing off, quickly moving towards the cashier to buy his fruit and leave. You sigh softly, giving your husband a warm smile in hoping to melt the ice around him. Sliding your arms around his waist, you lean in and peck his lips.

“Can’t leave you alone for a minute in this suit, apparently,” He teases against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip with his own. “Sharks start to circle.”

A soft laugh rumbles in your chest, squeezing his waist, “No one is circling.”

“Sharks!” Luci exclaims excitedly, “Fishies.” She reaches for your face with both of her hands, clasping your cheeks.

You can’t help but snicker, playfully tugging on one of her pigtails, “Yes, sharks and fishes. We’re gonna go check out their home soon.”

Austin takes the fruit from you to buy and you slip it into the beach tote before heading back outside. The sun is high in the sky, the weather hot but not suffocating, clouds like hazy cotton balls hanging about in the mass blue. It’s literally a perfect day for the beach. You take your sandals off to walk in the sand once you reach the Airbnb, Austin setting Luci down and holding onto her hand so they can work together to find a perfect spot to put their towels down.

Luci points and you nod because this will work, it’s right by the water but close enough to their patio that they can set drinks on the deck instead of in the sand. You throw the towels down, opening them up to sit on and removing your cover up because there definitely needs to be sunscreen. You can feel Austin’s eyes on you and when you look over, you can tell he’s checking you out, his gaze tracing over your skin like his hands would.

Kind of ironic coming from him, how beautiful he is, panels of smooth skin with kisses of freckles on his cheekbones and shoulders. He’s wearing small pieces of accent jewelry, a ring that’s not his wedding band (so he doesn’t lose anything valuable) and a thin silver chain resting around his neck. You playfully stick your tongue out at him as he undresses and he lets out a soft laugh, removing his t-shirt so that he’s just in his fitted swim trunks.

Luci takes off her sandals and attempts to make a run for the water and luckily Austin is quick, he does a half spin and picks her up right out of the sand, “Where do you think you’re goin’?” He asks, flipping her onto her back in his arms.

“Daddy!” She giggles, kicking her legs, “Water.”

“Water,” Austin shakes his head, sitting with her on the towel, fixing her swimsuit straps. “For one, my lil dino,” He reaches for the sunscreen you’re handing him, sitting down on the towel next to Luci. “You need sunscreen, and secondly, you never go in the water without me or mom, understand?”

He tips her chin up to make sure she’s listening and she nods, her eyes bright and wide as she takes a look out at the water, Austin putting sunscreen on her arms and legs while you put a small dollop on her face.

She gives you a cheesy, big grin and you can’t help but chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to her hair. After you all have a decent layer of sunscreen, both you and Austin hold onto one of Luci’s hands so she’s in the middle and walk towards the water.

Luci has always been a really curious girl, so she’s not scared when she dips her toes in and then a whole foot, squealing as the wave of cool water slips over her ankles and legs. Austin chuckles a little, gently swinging her with his arm into the next wave. She then reaches both of her hands towards him,

“Up!”

You sink into the water, up to your waist, toes curling in the sand underneath you. You smile as you watch Austin lean down and bring Luci into his arms and he slips down towards you, the water reaching his shoulders eventually as you both wade out.

Austin keeps a secure grip on Luci, who claps at the water and reaches for you every so often, touching your hair and shoulder. You dive under at one point and bring up a seashell, which she’s totally enamored by, and you decide that you’ll keep and maybe make it into a piece of jewelry for her one day. It’s a sturdy, nicely shaped, off-white one—almost has this semi-pink hue to it. Perfect to go on a necklace.

It's a lot of time spent in the water until Luci decides that she wants to build a sandcastle for the rest of the day. She’s very particular about the structure, disregarding a lot of what Austin attempts to build, much to your amusement. You take a few videos and post one to your story, Jillian instantly commenting and leaving a mix of love and jealousy in her emojis.

When you head back inside for the day, Luci is definitely spent. You just manage to give her a quick bath and change her into pajamas before she’s like warm clay in your arms. She slumps against your chest, face tucked into your neck.

“Haven’t even had a chance to get my swimsuit off yet.” You chuckle lightly as you pass Austin in the kitchen, who’s quickly changed into a soft pair of gray joggers and a white t-shirt. His hair is slightly blonder today from the sun and in wild curls, cheeks kissed tan-ish pink.

He takes a break from pouring both of you an iced coffee from the fridge and reaches for Luci, “I’ll put her down, you should take a shower—think you got sand in your hair.” He playfully reaches for a strand near your jaw and you smack his hand away.

“Charming.”

He smirks and plants a quick kiss on your cheek before you can hit him again and moves to take Luci down the hall. Shaking your head, you walk to the bathroom and turn the shower on, rinsing and shampooing quick in order to get into more comfortable clothes. When you use your towel to dry off though, it kinda feels like cardboard or like the Airbnb didn’t use enough fabric softener when washing these things. It hurts to use, especially on your shoulders and…

Wait. You wipe the steam off the mirror, turning to look over your shoulder at your back and groan.

“Crap.” You mumble under your breath, pulling your underwear on and towel drying your hair.

You open the door to let the steam out, wincing at the red skin and you’re trying to figure out what you an even put on to lounge in…it’s going to have to be something that’s similar to the strap design of your bathing suit. Ugh.

“Where’s the aloe?” You ask Austin as he comes round the corner from putting Luci to bed.

He takes one look at your shoulders and a soft smile twinges its way to the corners of his mouth, “You do this every time.”

Austin sounds far too amused for your liking…and if you didn’t need him to find the aloe and help you apply it, you’d be throwing this towel at his head. “I do not.”

You wander into the bedroom after dropping the towel in a basket in the bathroom, sitting down on the bed. This is totally not your fault…you kept applying sunscreen throughout your day after being in and out of the water. What else could you do? You sigh softly and tip your head back as Austin comes in with the green bottle, rolling it between his hands to warm up the aloe—honestly, husband points for that one.

“Least it’s me and not Luci.”

Austin hums and settles down behind you, brushing your hair aside and pressing a kiss to your sore shoulder. He squeezes aloe out into his hands and continues to warm it on his palms before gently settling his touch on your skin. You wince a little, closing your eyes, letting out a slow breath as he rubs it in.

“Should start feelin’ better in a few minutes here.” He says, leaning forward to plant a kiss to the back of your head. You smile a little, can’t help it, the feeling of his touch and the heat of his body utterly comforting.

“Today was really nice.” You stand from the bed and reach for a sports bra in your suitcase that has similar straps to the bathing suit you had on today. With a little bit of help from Austin, you wrangle the thing on and…avoid being in a decent amount of pain, so. Pulling your hair up into a bun, you turn to look at your husband, “Luci’s definitely a fan of the beach and water.”

“And seagulls.” Austin chuckles warmly, moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “There was a lot of tryin’ to talk to them today.”

“Probably misses her pigeon friends.” You snicker.

But admittedly, this was great. Without doubt something needed after the stress and busyness of award season. You reach out to place a hand on Austin’s chest, your thumb tracing back and forth along his collarbone. You’ve still got time left on this vacation clock, but you’re already thinking ahead—

“We should definitely come back when we’ve got the time.”

Austin picks your hand up and presses a kiss to your fingers, “We’ll make time.” And you smile because you know that’s a promise.

Chewing on your lower lip, you raise your eyebrows, brushing your fingers on his cheek, “You know what we’ve got time for right now?”

Austin lets out a warm laugh, amused, “You gonna be able to do anything with a sore back?”

You playfully push him to lay down on the bed, crawling on top of him until you’re straddling his waist, “Looks like I’ll just have to be on top.”

Austin hums, his eyes darkening blue as he leans up and draws you into a kiss.

[world-of-aus]

I decided to bless your Tumblr with two cuties 😍🥰😍

(could also inspire a fluffy oneshot to make us warm and fuzzy.)

Her smaller hand was wrapped in yours as you walked the busy streets of New York. You could feel her buzz of energy as she pulled the two of you along. Bucky’s arm was hooked around your waist holding you close to his side, protecting you from the nip of the winter wind as you tried to keep up with the strides Rebecca was taking “Honeybee,” you laugh, “slow down, you’re going to end up knocking someone over the store isn’t going anywhere, we’ll be there soon.”

Rebecca groans head thrown back but doesn’t falter in her steps as she continues to pull you along. You understood the younger Barnes' excitement, her brother was finally home after a long season of cutting wood before Winter rolled in and before he had left he had promised to bring her out to the animal shelter once he returned to see if they couldnt find her a puppy. “Bee c’mon now you’re going to pull Y/n’s arm right out of her socket if you keep pulling on her the way you are.”

The glare she sends her brother over her shoulder has the broad-shouldered brunette chuckling beside you the noise covering you like a warm blanket. You can’t help but to lean into him further head resting against his shoulder you had missed him a great lot while he was away, though being in Rebecca's company had been like if he had never left. You’d found that there was a lot of Bucky in Rebecca aside from their appearance, if not for their age difference you would have said they were twins.

“Y/n! Y/n look its right there!”

The shelter comes into view, Rebecca can hardly contain her excitement as she jumps forward, tugging you with her. Bucky’s hold falls away as you move forward to keep up with her, “honeybee, wait! I’m sorry, excuse me, sorry, excuse me, Honeybee just a second wait!”

You end up colliding into her smaller frame, awe freezing her in place as she takes in the shelters building kittens rubbing against one side of the windowpane, and puppies licking eagerly at the other side. “Y/n,” she breathes as if she can hardly believe what she sees, she looks up at you, “can we please PLEASE go in.”

“Course Bee, your brother can meet us in there.” you say as you usher the two of you forward.

Her body is thrumming with excitement as you enter the building, the animals greeting you as you step inside. Rebecca pulls you off to the side, her body going over the small glass case to coo at the kittens rubbing against the glass. “Y/n!” she hisses excitedly, “look its Alpine!” You peer over her head, spotting a white kitten on its back, paws in the air as it looks up almost expectantly. “Alpines at home,” you chuckle reaching down to pet its head, “but this could very well be her long lost sister.”

“Who’s long lost sister?” Bucky questions finally having caught up with you two, his arm falling around your shoulder as he stands close. “Alpines!” Rebecca says excitedly, “look B, isn’t she sooo cute?” Bucky mirrors your stance, looking over his sister to where the kitten still lounges. “Yeah, she kind of does,” he hums, “but no one beats my AL.”

Rebecca rolls her eyes at her older brother, “whatever, she’s still cute” she replies continuing to coo at the kitten. Her attention is short-lived though as she spots the puppies, her hands abandoning her hold on the glass case to grasp yours as she once again tugs you along. Bucky’s grip tightens as his little sister pulls you across the store. “Honeybee I already told you to take it easy on my girl,” he huffs as the three of you draw closer to the puppies, “I’d like her in one piece by the time we get home.”

His sister turns to look up at him, “well she’s mine when you’re away!” you laugh when she sticks her tongue out at him back turning before he can scold her. His head finds yours, warm breath tickling your ear, “should have let them extend my days, she’s been sassing me since I got home thought she missed me.” The back of your hand smacks his chest, his fingers curl around your wrist holding it there your head turns to find his gaze, “I missed you enough for the both of us B.”

His gaze warms you, stare so intense it has you losing your breath, he moves in closer, “you missed me honey?” You’re about to show him just how much you missed him but a white fluff of fur beats you to the punch. “B LOOK AT THE PUPPY!” Rebecca is all giggles as she watches her brother stumble back with the golden white fluff that she thrust into his face. The puppy licks away at his face eagerly adoring the attention it has seemingly received from the brunette duo. You can’t help but to coo at the interaction, “he’s cute isn’t he y/n,” Becca grins, “Bucky can we have him, PLEASE!”

Your gaze is drawn down to the younger of the Barnes siblings, her eyes drawn wide and pretty pink pout on her lips as she bats her eyes at her brother. Despite the sigh that leaves Buckys lips you can tell the ball of fluff is wedging its way into his heart. “I don’t know honeybee we already have AL at home – I don’t think she’s going to be too happy with a puppy running around.”

Becca pouts further, “I’ll keep him in my room! Right y/n?” the girl questions looking to you for help. You really had a problem denying either of the Barnes siblings. “I’ll keep AL in your room when bee has him out, make sure little lady cleans up after him too – right bee?” you question turning back to look at the girl. She’s jumping in place, “yes, yes, yes, I promise B, I promise I'll take care of him.”

When you turn back to look at Bucky the white golden fluff – who you come to name ‘buck’- is curled up in the brunettes arms, a smile pulling at his lips as he rubs the pups fur. “Yes! We can have him!” Rebecca jumps as if the smile on her brothers lips is enough to give her an answer. “You have to care for him honeybee, I don’t want him terrorizing Al.” he says as he passes the puppy back to her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waves him off focus purely on the puppy back in her arms.

Bucky sighs shake to his head as he looks down at his sister, puppy craddled in her arms as she coos over him. You lean into his side when his arms fall over you, your lips going for his cheek but finding his lips instead. “You did good B, honeybee found her puppy.”

[little-red-fool]

OMG YOU'RE SEVENTEEN?? (I've been following you for months and I didn't once read the pinned message beyond the line about no AI and NFTs lmao) YOUR ART IS SO CRISPY I THOUGHT YOU WERE A PRO ARTIST AROUND 30 WTF

(sorry for the yelling via text)

HOW DID YOU GET SO GOOD!! (Tips on lineart please?) WE'RE THE SAME AGE, BUT HALF OF MY ART IS SHIT AND THE OTHER HALF IS FART

ALL HAIL LITTLE RED FOOL, BESTOW THY GREATNESS UPON THOU MERE MORTAL SERVANTS

But in all seriousness, any tips on, like I said, lineart or just digital art in general? (I just started digital, and... Ten hours of work and I'm just on base colors 😎🕶️🤏🥲) I love, LOVE your style and especially COLOR! How do you tie it all together? Like, I'm 17 too, but I'm not even close to your stuff?? I'm scared as fuck from ever trying color traditionally because I spend SO MUCH TIME ON A SKETCH, so I just picked up digital and HOURS LATER IT'S STILL AWFUL

Sorry for the rambling and repeating, man, it's been a long day and it's late in the Balkans... Don't let the rambling force you into answering tho

Have a good one. ->excited fellow artist

(tip of the day: did you know that in Romanian, moon and month are the same word, with the same pronunciation, spelling and plural? It's called: lună [loonuh] and I think it comes from latin, since Romanian is a heavily latin language, with bits of french and turkish (HEAVY bits), dacian, slavic, italian)

OUAHFSHD THANK YOU SO MUCH I’M REALLY HAPPY YOU LIKE MY ART!! Also I’m sure your art is better than you think it is (we generally tend to view our own creations as worse than others because we’re the ones that made them, don’t worry I’m the same as well ajdbsjd) but yeah I’ll be happy to give you some tips and stuff! (and yeah I never colour traditionally either I just leave everything in plain biro because I don’t want to mess it up lol)

(I haven’t seen your art so these will probably be more general tips but hopefully they’ll help a bit, also keep in mind that I’m not a professional so this will be more about what has worked for me but I hope it might help you a bit)

So for stuff like lineart, avoid using chicken-scratches—it might seem easier or less daunting to do shorter overlapping lines like that but it will give your sketches and drawings that overall fuzzy look, the trick is to have longer confident strokes. It might seem a bit tricky at first if you haven’t done it before so don’t worry it happens but if you keep practicing they’ll eventually look smoother and less shaky. For the longer lines it better to draw from either your elbow or shoulder, and by that I mean keeping your wrist still and letting the larger parts of your arm do most of the work—this will also help your wrist in the long run. For things like shorter lines and smaller details then absolutely use your hand to move the pen, but generally try to use your elbow and shoulder as it will help you get those longer smoother lines. Also this is just a personal preference of mine but I generally use brushes that have a bit of pressure sensitivity which helps add some line weight. If you don’t have pressure sensitivity another way you can get line weight is by taking an eraser to some of the edges and narrowing some parts.

For colours it mainly depends on the lighting—lighting is everything and will affect how the rest of the colours will look, so it’s important to have an idea of the brightness and colour of your lighting. The background also plays an important role in picking colours for me as well as it helps provide colour context and makes it easier to pick colours by eye if you want a certain mood. If you want a more dependable way on getting colours to match up then I’d recommend having a layer that’s just colour on top of the rest of your piece—you can play around with the blending modes and opacity, I mainly use either an overlay layer with a medium colour that’s slightly desaturated or a colour burn layer with a light saturated colour; most of the time I use colour burn because if you put it over your lineart then it will also tint the parts of your lineart or sketch that’s at a lower opacity too. But with figuring out colours I’d highly recommend researching some stuff about colour theory, there are a lot of good and easy to understand explanations and art tutorials on YouTube so I would recommend starting there (unfortunately I can’t link recommend specific videos because my playlists are a mess ajdbsjdbsj but some good channels to learn from are Sinix Design, Marc Brunet and Marco Bucci).

In terms of general digital art tips, ALWAYS FLIP YOUR CANVAS. You will not believe the amount of times I’ve looked at a drawing and thought it looked pretty good, flipped the canvas and found that everything’s wonky. In cases like these the liquify tool is your best friend, as well as the lasso tool and transform tools, as well as just manually fixing them by redrawing some parts. Also use as many layers as you need, and by this I mean if you’re working on your sketch, lineart or colouring or whatever and you want to do something you’re not sure you’ll like, duplicate the layers so you have a backup in case it goes wrong and you want to go back. When I say use as many layers as you need I mean use as many as you need, these are some of mine and they’re all from just one sketch because I get really anxious about messing stuff up lol, also don’t be afraid of drawing separate parts on separate layers and merging them afterwards if you want.

Also take your time, unless you have a deadline don’t feel like you have to complete a drawing within a certain timeframe, if you want to get faster at drawing then that’s great but don’t feel like you need to push yourself, especially if you’re just starting. Practice takes time and patience is your best friend, and you probably hear lots of other artists saying this but trust the process. You might get to a bit you’re struggling with and not like it and want to abandon the drawing, but I found that rather than saying “this is bad” or “this is wrong” start asking “how can I make this work” because a change in mindset can help you a lot with art. Also don’t feel like you have to reach certain milestones with your art by certain points either, like with the age thing and comparing your progress with other artists of either the same or different ages, because it can make you feel worse about your art. Trust me there are some artists younger than me who are like 14 or 15 who’s art I envy and—again with the mindset thing—instead of getting down that your art isn’t similar to their’s or worrying that you’re “behind” in your artistic development (there is no such thing btw everyone learns at different ages and speeds so don’t feel bad if you haven’t progressed as much as you would have liked to) it helps to ask what you like about their art and what you would like to incorporate into your own—this has helped me learn and improve a lot faster.

I don’t know if I have any more tips at the moment, but I hope that answered some of your questions! (also sorry it’s a bit long or some bits don’t make a lot of sense I like to ramble a bit lol) (also also thank you for the little fact as well!)

Have a nice day anon 🧡

[taybatwo2]

Lenore Loomington Doll Review Part 2 of 2

Let’s finally take a look at her dress (the post before this one looked at her accessories and in box photos)! Ugh, that belt thing just keeps getting in the way of everything and will NOT sit well on her torso.

Lets remove the offending piece to actually look at her dress…

Much better (I was so afraid of breaking her clip, I had her hanging from her neck for many of my photos). I love that the cut of the dress is WAY different to any other Monster High dolls I’ve seen, and I like the idea (I assume) behind it: looking at silhouettes of plants and animals on a night sky.

Buuuuut I feel like it could have been elevated a bit more for such an expensive doll. Give us some glow in the dark/sparkly dots acting as stars going up her skirt, finish her sleeves and dress train with some lace, oh, or maybe sew some “vine like” ribbon/fabric hanging off of the train or sleeves. Oh! And I feel like her short black lacy piece is kinda a second thought, I’d have made it longer in the back or give it a more ragged cut (so it’s not so reminiscent of a tutu or petticoat). I say this all, because both the color and the cut was honestly better executed by:

The one you got vs the one you ordered. Yeahhh, it very closely resembles Moonlight B.B’s dress (shirt/skirt), but feels like a poor rip off due too MGA’s looking a lot more tailored (and use of multiple fabrics) and a more expensive clothing piece. more review and doll comparisons under the cut:

Aaaand here it is off the doll:

The dress is not hemmed around the bottom of the dress or sleeves, but I don’t see them fraying any time soon. I like how thin and flow-y the fabric is it makes it look a bit ethereal. And oh? But what’s this?? A secret secondary dress/slip??

What a cute little surprise. It’s fully hemmed, has a little lace on the bottom, and has a bit of a stretch to it. Also, Lenora’s arms are wrapped in plastic to prevent staining.

Here it is off the doll. Be forewarned, I low key struggled redressing her. That larger dress didn’t want to nicely slide back over her smaller dress.

Let’s finally take a look at Lenore’s face.

My Lenore’s eyes are printed up a bit too high and her lipstick is both smudged and incorrectly filled in in the top left side. 😬 At least a little bit of acrylic paint can fix her lips….

Her glitter tears are really pretty and seem pretty well attached and her “ghost mask” is a lovely addition to her face (it’s a nice gradient).

It took me awhile to notice she has cute little pink eyelashes mixed in with her black ones.

Her side profile and lightly pointed ears (by the way, the back of her head is marked as 2023). I do wish her eyebrows were a bit darker and looked like Rochelle’s worried ones (@mistyxxart’s, on instagram, drawing of Lenore is what I WISH her eyebrows looked like).

This artwork is fangtastic and has given me so many fun ideas on how I want to upgrade my Lenore.

Lenore is pretty well covered now; let’s look at how she compares to come other ghouls (I apologize for many of these photos being a bit blown out - the lighting in my kitchen is kinda sucky).

The OG Spectra!!! Two very different ghostie ghouls. Monster High’s oldest vs MH’s newest. Spectra has clear body parts, no ghost mask, and colored sclera. She also has kanekalon hair vs Lenore’s saran. I think they stand on their own as pretty different characters honestly.

Let’s let a few more come across the veil.

So many ghosts!!! Ari, Ari, what are you looking at?!? Sweetie. Stop longingly staring at Spectra.

Okay, so they actually don’t seem to have very much in common with Lenore either. Ari has a milky/shimmery body (much more akin to the Haunted releases of ghosts) and Lenore has a shimmery body without looking like she has milky skin. Her shimmer has more of a blue tinge than the yellow tinge that Ari’s has.

The Create a Monster Ghost (I always forget how hard they went on her outfit: skulls amassed behind a fence with a blood-dripping belt; I love it when MH sneaks in stuff like that), has the ghost eye mask (I don’t like hers as much as Lenore’s) and uncolored sclera like Lenore, but her pupils are black - like Ari’s. Both CAM ghost and Spectra have clear limbs.

There is something these ghouls all share in common:

Mother of PINK! The Monster World must have very limited shoe material that ghosts can wear and it’s all in similar shades of pink and magenta.

I wonder how she compares to the Haunted dolls…? POOF!

Ask and you shall receive! Technically River is a grim reaper and Kiyomi is the daughter of a noppera-bō, so not just comparing “ghost ghosts,”but why not throw them in here too?? Porter, Vandala and Kiyomi all have very milky skin, Lenore’s plastic is very opaque in comparison with that pearl/shimmer finish.

~shimmer shimmer~ Porter has colored sclera like Spectra and Vandala doesn’t have black pupils, like Lenore. I wonder if there is a reason for some ghosts to have colored/regular sclera and pupils. Maybe it’s a ghost genetic trait like attached ear lobes….

River was wondering what all the hubbub was about in comparing them to this new ghost. Well, until I told River how much Lenore cost compared to them. River couldn’t say much, but just proudly showed off her clear limbs: “I cost less than a third of that and I have clear limbs!” ….I wonder how she’ll react when I tell her the ghoul that received her original head sculpt idea cost double Lenore’s price.

And POOF!

What a lovely menagerie of MH ghosts (pretend like my Symphanee got here quick enough to also be in the photos).

Perfect! Can’t even tell….

Oh! And Vandala brought her girlfriend Sirena along so I could compare Sirena’s skin tone to Lenore’s. Her skin glitter is not as fine as Lenore’s and she has a yellow tint to her skin….I wonder if Ari’s and Sirena’s is due to age.

Hand splat in face.

Before I wrap up, let’s compare Lenore to some MH dolls that look like the main ingredients they blended up to create Lenore.

Your progenitors!!! (my G1 Twyla has been de-glued with LA’s Totally Awesome, but her bangs are discolored and are waiting to be retrobrighted this summer). Hmmm, a dash Twyla’s skin color, a major helping of Vandala’s face mold and monster type, and an inspirational sprinkle of Amanita’s outfit and pieces.

I can see the comparisons with G1 Twyla (more in person than in a photo). Lenore’s skin has a purple hue from the pearly finish. Also, Lenore’s hair streaks are more baby blue than the minty green of Twyla’s hair color. They both have pink eyes, and wear dark colored clothing.

Now, Lenors and Amanita, look like they could have been in the same line (when I actually have Lenore fully dressed). Amanita believes that she would have still been the only deluxe, store exclusive of the line. “Maybe you could have been like the Big Lots or CVS exclusive to Gloom and Bloom.” Amanita! That is uncalled for! “You’re right, how about a K-Mart exclusive because they’re as dead as she is.” Lenore thinks this is one plant she doesn’t want in her garden.

They both have long wavy hair, flower shoe clips (but Amanita’s is sculpted to be a lot more three dimensional and it’s painted).

Both have extra make-up around the eyes, a hair decoration/accessory, and a thin, slightly see through dress covering a surprise mini dress (I still feel like Amanita’s has more detail, but that pleather portion will rot off someday).

Yeah, she is more than welcome to pose. I think that Amanita might have pulled off the look a bit better…. :/

And a face comparison!

Similar, but Amanita’s/CAM Vampire Girl’s head sculpt is not the same.

Avast ye!! We might have a match! Vandala’s face does look closely the same (I should have taken out Vandala’s earring for all of these photos)…

Hmmm…..

Hmmmmmmm…..

HMMMM, Lenore’s ear looks a little bit more defined (when I don’t have the light GLARING right ONTO it).

Man, Vandala, I need to de-glue your head whenever I get more LA’s Totally Awesome in. You are a grease ball!

Well, Lenore might have used Vandala’s head sculpt base, but they went in and refined some parts…like her chin being a bit blunter, her nose and ears being a bit more defined, her lips might be a bit bigger (or they were just over painted).

Whelp anyways….Lenore…Lenore….I am glad I bought her, as she has some cute surprises, a lovely face, soft hair, but she’s very overpriced from the get-go and would have (in my opinion) not gotten such backlash had she been released to stores and Mattel creations as a 40-55 dollar G1 release and if she had not been SO HYPED UP!!

What are your thoughts? Would you buy her? What would you change?? Do you think Mattel has a huge wheel in their board room to spin and assign value to their dolls? Should I double check pictures to make sure they turned out alright before I put all my dolls away?? (Yes, yes I should).

[can-of-pringles]

When I'm Alone with You - Chapter 17

Rating: Gen

Warnings: Maybe a little bit of hurt/comfort?

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Copia can't sleep, again. Luckily, Silas is there to help and listen.

Note: Finally, we're back! I'm starting to get back into writing for them. Plus, it helps with all the new Ghost stuff we've been getting. Hope you like this chapter.

Silas worked on sweeping one of his usual assigned hallways while Copia sat nearby on a bench, going over a stack of papers.

“You know you don’t have to do paperwork out here just to keep me company, right?” Silas mentioned as he pushed another pile of dust and clutter into a dustpan.

“There’s nothing in the rules saying we can’t work in the same area… at the same time…” Copia held up his stack of papers to hide his smile. “And besides, I like spending time with you.”

The more time he spent around him, the more he felt relaxed, as if he could tell him anything.

“Okay, well… some things.” He thought.

Silas paused his sweeping for a second to look at him. “Yeah… it’s nice.” He smiled.

Copia met his gaze for a moment before looking back down at his papers, fidgeting with the pen he was using. He couldn’t bite back the urge to smile.

The two continued with their work. Copia was almost done with his stack for the day, often already starting on his work the night before. Finally, he signed the last piece and sighed in relief.

“Finished for the day? Already?” Silas asked, though he didn’t sound upset, instead happy for him.

“Yeah, it was a slightly smaller stack today, plus I had already started on it last night,” Copia explained, slipping the papers into a big envelope.

Silas muttered an ‘oh,’ and nodded, still focused on cleaning. “I’m almost done here and then I have one more before break…”

“Good. I was thinking… if you want, I can go send my paperwork in and then keep you company before break.” Copia offered. “Since I’m done, I can do whatever.”

Silas looked at him, a grateful look on his face. “Really? You don’t have to use your free time to do that just for me…”

“No, I want to.” Copia blurted out.

Silas blinked in slight surprise before a small smile grew on his face. Copia’s hands gripped the bench slightly. He glanced down, a blush growing on his face.

“I meant, I genuinely would like to keep you company since I’m done for the day… if you want.” The Cardinal cleared his throat, not meeting his eyes.

Silas slightly used his broom to lean. “Alright, sure.”

Copia looked up at him, squinting slightly. “You… you’re not just saying that, right?”

He scoffed in amusement. “Copia, I like hanging out with you practically every day. Who else do you expect me to hang out with, the ghouls?”

Copia’s anxieties lessened at his joke, snickering to himself. Silas grinned. Copia took a breath, un-tensing his shoulders.

“True…”

“No offense to the ghouls. I’m sure they’re nice, but…” Silas tilted his head, furrowing his brows. He noticed how anxious Copia had been behaving, more than usual. “You alright?”

“Eh…” Copia sighed. “I’m just tired… haven’t been sleeping well, I guess.” He shrugged.

He still had the nightmares, though they had lessened. It didn’t mean that it didn’t keep him up at night sometimes. As well as what he was doing outside of work. Copia had finally gotten the mental strength to work on restoring Primo’s beloved gardens. He had barely scratched the surface, but he was dedicated.

Silas gave him a sympathetic look. “I understand. I hope it gets better soon.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” He huffed, crossing his arms.

They stayed silent for a moment until Silas spoke up.

“I was thinking I’d use this upcoming break to take Blizzard for a walk, if you’d want to come with us.”

Copia’s eyes lit up. That did sound nice. Being outside on a walk with Silas and his sweet dog.

“Sure, sounds great.” He smiled.

Silas nodded and took a breath, looking down at the newly swept floor. “Well, until then, I have one more hallway to sweep…”

“Over there?” Copia gestured to another corridor.

“Yeah.”

Copia stood up, waiting patiently while Silas emptied the dustpan he was using into one of the trash bins with wheels on it. Copia followed Silas as he pulled the bin to the next hall, holding his broom in the other hand.

Other people probably couldn’t have cared less about janitors, but Copia couldn’t help but admire Silas for how much work he did to keep the Ministry neat and tidy. The Cardinal tried to ignore the thought in the back of his mind of Silas sweeping, sleeves of his shirt pushed up and out of the way, revealing his arms.

“Copia?”

“Huh?” Copia spoke, furrowing his brows and slightly shaking his head.

He must’ve been on auto-pilot because he found himself sitting down on another bench while Silas worked through the second corridor. Copia looked up at him, blinking.

“Sorry… um, I was thinking about something. It doesn’t matter.” He stammered slightly.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not getting enough sleep.” Silas lightly frowned.

“Yeah…” He muttered, glancing down and fidgeting with his hands.

“How late did you stay up last night working?” Silas raised a brow.

Copia stared down at the floor, staying silent. “Two-thirty AM…” He confessed.

“Really?” Silas’ eyes widened in surprise before going back to sweeping corners. “Why?”

“It’s more budgeting work, is all. Sister wants me to start preparing for a tour…” He rested his head in the palm of his hand.

Silas paused his sweeping again, furrowing his brows. “Already? Wow…”

“Well, not yet… but we’re getting there. Soon, when she’s ready to leave the hospital.” Copia swallowed. “But anyway, I don’t want to bother you with all of that.” He brushed it off, trying to take on a more relaxed posture, though it wasn’t very convincing. “Anyway, what do you normally do to fight off boredom while working?”

“Oh, um, well, normally I listen to music or sometimes podcasts. Although right now I’m talking with you.” Silas picked up on his urge to change the subject, instantly going with it.

Copia hummed, trying to think of something else to say to help pass the time. “I have an idea. Why don’t we ask each other questions about ourselves? It’ll be like that twenty questions game, except I’ve never played that…” He smiled sheepishly. “We’ll just play until you finish.”

Silas scoffed lightheartedly. “Alright, sure. Sounds fun.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep the questions light. It’s not like this is an interrogation.” He chuckled at his own joke, causing Silas to snicker slightly.

“I should hope not.” He had a small smile on his face.

“Okay, okay.” Copia sighed, thinking of his first question. “What’s your middle name?”

“Interesting first question,” Silas remarked. “It’s Adrian.”

“Oh, I like it.” He complimented. “Suits you.”

Silas felt his face flush, and he turned away. “Okay, my turn… why the black makeup every day?” He asked genuinely. “I mean, I figured it was a Ministry thing…”

“It’s traditional for the Cardinals here to wear. As well as Papas to adorn their own makeup. Think of it as part of the uniform.” Copia explained. “Before you ask, yes, I do have to use a lot of moisturizer to help with the everyday wear.”

“That’s some dedication. I personally couldn’t imagine wearing it every day… or the Pap…al? Papal makeup especially… I would hate having to wash it out of my beard.” Silas winced.

He chuckled shortly. “Yeah, I get it. Okay… what is your favorite thing about Texas?”

Silas hummed, furrowing his brows and slightly frowning as he concentrated on thinking. “The food. Oh, I miss it so much sometimes…” He sighed.

“That good?”

“You have no idea… the Tex-Mex… that’s one thing I don’t like living about here… No southern food. You can’t get proper barbeque anywhere in the country. Anywhere in Europe.” Silas sighed.

“I guess you’ll have to show me around Texas at some point.” Copia slightly joked.

Silas’ expression changed back to more relaxed, smiling at him. “Maybe one day… Back to me?”

Copia nodded.

“Alright. Um… I really hope you don’t mind another similar one…” He chuckled nervously. “Let me preface this by saying, I think it’s neat and I’m curious… in a good way.”

Copia tilted his head, raising a brow. “What?”

Silas cleared his throat. “I like how your white eye stands out… explain?”

He had a look of realization. “Oh… my eye? The way you were hesitating, I was expecting something worse.”

Silas let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Oh…”

Copia chuckled shortly and shook his head. “I don’t mind explaining, not at all. Some infants or young children receive the white eye in an unholy… um, let me think of a word you’d probably be familiar with… baptism? Essentially. And I was one of those infants. Although it can also be genetic if you’re part of the Emeritus bloodline.”

“Huh… interesting,” he replied.

“I realize that to people outside of the Clergy, there’s just a lot to take in… When you grow up with it, it’s all normal to you.” Copia scratched the back of his head. “Okay, now it’s my turn.”

“Okay, but after this, I’ll be done and I can go on break.” Silas reminded.

His eyes lit up, happy for the upcoming walk. “Nice. Anyway… question time. When did you get your ears pierced?”

“It’s been so long… um, I think when I was a teenager… y’know, um, typical teen rebellion type of thing.” Silas focused on sweeping up the last of the dust and clutter, not meeting his gaze.

Copia knitted his brows together. “Oh, really? Interesting…”

“Why’s it interesting?”

“You just don’t really seem like the rebellious type… well… in personality I guess.” Copia thought aloud.

Silas gave him a shrug. “I guess I’m a man of mystery.”

Copia’s quiet laughter was infectious, causing Silas to laugh as well.

---

Copia tossed and turned in his bed, grumbling as he pulled up the sheets. He turned on his side and sighed, frowning. It hadn’t been that long since he’d woken up from another nightmare. He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to ignore the looming ache he felt in his chest.

When he couldn’t ignore it any longer, he sat up and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs in an attempt to comfort himself. Copia’s throat began to burn, and he felt his eyes start to fill with tears. He sniffled and wiped them before hiding his face in his curled-up position.

He groaned from annoyance and exhaustion. “I’m so tired of this… why did it have to happen?”

He frowned and looked at a small picture frame on his nightstand. The picture inside was slightly faded, though he could clearly see the people in it. A younger version of himself, probably around four or five, held up a small pot. Inside was a sprout he’d worked on growing. Primo was crouched next to him, smiling proudly. He had probably been in his late twenties when the photo was taken.

“I can’t believe he’s gone…” Copia murmured. “They’re all gone…”

He wasn’t sure if he could fall asleep again. Too many thoughts plagued his mind. He glanced at his alarm clock. Bright neon green numbers stared back at him. 12:28. Basically twelve-thirty at this point.

Copia rubbed his eyes and sighed. Hearing his own breathing made him feel even lonelier. His rats were kept in his living room, enough of a distance away for him not to hear them usually. He bit his lip and fidgeted with his hands.

“I couldn’t possibly bother him… it’s way too late.”

He continued contemplating the idea, feeling conflicted. One thing he felt sure of, though, was he would get a smartphone. Texting wouldn’t feel nearly as intrusive as the idea of actually walking over there. Maybe he could convince Sister Imperator to let him use the Ministry budget for it if he said the phone would be for when he was on tour.

Copia got out of bed, putting on a worn but comfy t-shirt and his robe. He grabbed the glass of water next to his bed and took a drink, relieving his dry throat. He placed it back down and headed into the living room. Maybe he could just go for a walk through the Ministry. That would settle his nerves.

He put on his slippers and headed toward the door, opening and closing it as quietly as he could. Luckily, he could still see fairly well in the darkened hallways. The tall stained glass windows that lined the walls allowed for some moonlight to shine through.

Copia walked silently, planning on walking a loop around the Ministry building and then back to his room to tire himself out. He had been walking for a bit but paused when he heard some quiet scuttling above him. He looked up and squinted, trying to see which ghoul it was.

Considering how small they were and how they were casually climbing around up in the rafters and structures, he figured it was probably Pigeon. They were one of the spare ghouls, not assigned to any particular Papa or Cardinal, or other Clergy leader; just there for some of the Ministry’s chores. He wasn’t that familiar with them but had seen them around. The other ghouls had told him that they especially loved to be up high, hence the climbing and bird-themed name.

They stopped moving and lay still up there, similar to a cat lounging. All Copia could see were two small, white glowing dots staring down at him. They said nothing, remaining silent. Copia hesitantly raised his hand for a second, trying to politely acknowledge them. He watched as their tail swished, giving a slow blink back. They expertly moved around up there, leaving to go climb other places.

Copia looked back down and continued with his walk. After some time, he found a bench and sat down for a moment. He sighed and rested his face in the palm of his hand. Why did it seem like no one else cared that the other Papas were gone? Sure, most people probably believed the lie that they had simply been transferred back to the Italy location, but surely they were missed?

He felt a lump in his throat, choosing to try his best to ignore it. He was alone in his grief. Months had passed, and he had gotten used to his pain, but some days, or nights, it would especially hit him hard.

Copia jumped when he heard someone say his name. Silas stood in front of him. All Copia could make out was that he was wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants.

“Is that you?” Silas whispered.

“Silas? What are you doing up?” He asked, thankful for the lack of lighting. He wasn’t used to people seeing him without his makeup.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, though he sounded calm.

Copia sighed. “I… well, I couldn’t sleep. You too?”

He nodded. “Yeah… I was just walking for a bit and thought I saw someone sitting out here. Looks like I was right.”

Both men remained silent for a moment.

“Do you want to talk about it…?” Silas asked, eventually. “Your lack of sleep, I mean.”

Copia thought over his offer. He nodded and stood up, leaving to follow him.

Silas held his phone out, turning on the flashlight and aiming it at the ground as they headed back to his room. They walked in silence, trying not to wake up others around them. Finally, Silas had found his door and quietly turned the knob.

Inside, it was about as dark as the Ministry corridors, except for a couple of small nightlights Silas had plugged in.

“Careful where you walk, there might be some of Blizzard’s toys lying around.” He cautioned.

Copia nodded and carefully made it to his couch, sitting down. Speaking of Blizzard, where was he?

“Sorry about the slight mess… I usually pick up all of his toys, but it was just one of those nights, I guess. He’s sleeping on my bed right now.”

Ah, that made sense.

“But… I can’t see anything. Why are you apologizing for a mess?” Copia asked.

He could hear Silas sigh and then quietly chuckle to himself. “Sorry, habit.”

He exhaled, already feeling more at ease around Silas. Silas went to sit down slightly next to him. He reached to turn on a small lamp next to the couch.

“Wait.” Copia blurted out.

“What’s wrong?”

He swallowed nervously and shook his head. “Sorry, nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just… I’m… not used to others seeing my face. Without makeup.” He squeaked out, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than ever. “You can turn it on. It’s fine.”

“Oh… would you feel more comfortable if I kept it off? I was slightly considering making some tea if that sounds good, but I would need some light to see…”

“No, no, turn it on. It’s no big deal.” He shrugged it off. “Tea sounds nice.”

“I think I probably have some sunglasses around here if that would make you feel better?” Silas offered.

Copia nearly swooned right then and there. How was he so sweet and considerate? He bit back a smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but really, it’s fine. Forget I said anything.”

After a few seconds, Silas clicked the small lamp on, enough light shone to illuminate their faces and the room. Copia blinked at the sudden light, rubbing his eyes. After a bit, he settled again, though, looking away instead of looking right at Silas.

“Oh,” Silas remarked.

“What?” Copia muttered, self-consciously running his hand through his messy hair.

“Nothing, it’s just… you’d think the black makeup would make your eyes stand out more, but actually, it’s the opposite. I just feel like… I can see them better this way, somehow?” Silas explained, fidgeting with his hands. “I mean—makeup or not, your eyes always stand out.”

Copia gathered the courage to look at him for a moment. He glanced down for a second before looking back up. “Is that a good thing?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Silas gave him a reassuring smile. “Yes.”

He could feel his face heat up. He cleared his throat and glanced away again. “So… that tea…? Sounds nice…”

Silas widened his eyes for a split second, quickly nodding and getting up to go make it. “Oh, um, yeah. It shouldn’t take too long…”

“Alrighty, cool.” He nervously tapped his fingers on the couch. “Would you want some help?”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind. You’re my guest, after all.” Silas politely declined, already working on making the tea.

“‘Guest’? That’s awfully fancy for the fact that you just found me out there in the dark.” Copia pointed out, lightly teasing.

“You make it sound like you’re some sort of stray cat I found wandering around outside. Now it’s my mission to nurse you back to health.” He joked.

Copia couldn’t help but giggle a little at that. Silas did the same, covering his mouth with his hand to try to quiet it. Finally, they both settled down, luckily avoiding waking up Blizzard in the next room.

“Sorry, I’m kinda tired… I might have a lack of a filter.” Silas sighed.

“It’s okay, trust me, I get it,” he replied.

Finally, Silas had finished making the tea and brought over two mugs of it to where they had been sitting. He handed one of them to Copia.

“It’s just chamomile. I hope that’s okay,” Silas said before he took a seat.

“It’s perfectly okay. Thank you.” He smiled and took a careful sip. It tasted warm and comforting, already starting to put him at ease.

Silas took a sip, noticing how Copia had slightly leaned back into the couch, relaxing more. Silas looked away when he realized he’d been looking at him for too long. Seeing Copia this way, just wearing his pajamas and robe, with no makeup or fixed hair, was fascinating. Silas couldn’t help but take it all in.

“I know it’s tradition and all… but you look good without the Cardinal makeup. Both are um, good, I just… l like you without it too…” Silas tried not to stammer, quickly taking a drink after speaking.

Copia looked at him, blinking in surprise. A small smile formed on his face and he chuckled shortly, glancing down at his tea instead of meeting his gaze. “Ah, well, thank you.” Maybe drinking hot tea while his body temperature was already slightly raised was a bad idea.

“So, you said before you’d be up to talking about what’s been bothering you? The lack of sleep and all…” Silas reminded, changing the subject.

“Oh, right… that.” He sighed.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. We could talk about something else if you want.” Silas suggested, picking up on his nervousness coming back.

“No, it’s okay. I feel like it’s one of those things that you just have to talk about to help… if that makes sense?” Copia tapped the mug with his nails.

Silas gave him a sympathetic frown. “Yeah, I understand.”

“I’ve been having nightmares on and off… they’ve been disrupting my sleep.” He admitted.

“Aw, man, I’m sorry. That’s tough.” Silas sighed before taking another drink. “Is it something in particular that’s been bothering you?”

Copia swallowed nervously. He couldn’t tell him the truth. It’s not that he liked lying to him, but he had to keep him safe. If Sister found out that Copia had told someone the secret… it wouldn’t be pretty. But also how could you even bring that up?

“Oh, yeah, by the way, Sister killed the other Papas. Yeah, that’s why they’re gone. They weren’t actually shipped off to Italy. It’s probably all my fault. You can hate me and never talk to me again.” He thought, coping with humor.

He cleared his throat. “Oh, well, I guess I’ve just been under a lot of pressure lately… and I miss my brother figures. I wish they’d never been… that they got transferred.” His throat started to sting.

Silas placed his hand on Copia’s shoulder. “I’m sorry… you have been under a lot more responsibility around here for sure. If it makes you feel any better, I think you’ve been handling it pretty well, given the circumstances, or at least better than I would.”

Copia scoffed lightly. “Well, at least I’m giving off those impressions to someone.” He took another sip.

Silas glanced away, frowning. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but why were they relocated?”

Copia felt anxiety in the pit of his stomach. “Um… well, Sister hadn’t been pleased with their recent behavior, I guess… especially, um, Papa Terzo…” He drank a bit more tea to get rid of the dry feeling in his throat. “He was dragged off stage at his last performance.”

Silas’ eyes widened in surprise. “Wow… he must’ve pissed her off or something.”

“You could say that. Terzo was definitely more of a rebel when he was still Papa.”

“Sister seems hard to please… so I guess it makes sense that she just sent them away.” Silas sighed, leaning back against the couch.

Copia stared down into his mug, trying to ignore the burning sensation in his throat. “Yeah…”

Silas frowned in concern, noticing how upset he was. “Hey, again, I’m really sorry. I know what it’s like to live far away from family, or the people you consider family.”

Copia glanced at him before looking back down again. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Silas tapped on his mug, thinking over his words. “I remember being a little kid, and just… being so upset about my parents being so far away from each other, my family basically being broken up.”

Copia looked over at him, trying to hide his surprise.

“My father moved back to Sweden when he and my mom got divorced. It wasn’t a bad divorce. They’re still best friends, actually. They were just incompatible… but I’m not going to get into all that.” He explained. “Even though they still co-parented me well, and I knew that our family wasn’t really broken up, at least not like other people’s, I still couldn’t help but cry about it back then. It was just all so new and overwhelming. I didn’t like having my life just suddenly switched up like that.”

“I’m sorry, Silas…” Copia placed his hand on his arm for a second. He put his hand back down when he realized just how close he’d gotten.

“Thanks, it was a long time ago… but this situation, with the Papas, it’s still fairly fresh for you… I wish I knew what to say to make it better.” Silas furrowed his brows, frowning sympathetically.

“Thanks, talking about it with you helps a little…” Copia gave him a small smile.

“I’m glad.” He looked at him, returning the smile. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to see them again soon.”

Copia sighed. He ignored the ache in his chest. “Yeah… that would be nice.”

After a moment of silence between them, Silas noticed Copia’s mug seemed lighter, probably empty at this point.

“Oh, are you done with that?” He pointed out, gesturing to the mug.

Copia glanced down at it. “Oh, huh, I guess I am.”

“Do you want me to refill it? I think there’s still a bit more tea left…” Silas offered.

“Oh, no, it’s alright. Thanks though.”

He nodded and stood up to put his mug next to the kitchen sink, taking Copia’s mug as well when he held it out. Afterward, he sat back down and pulled out his phone, looking at the time. Silas refrained from wincing at how long they’d been up, knowing tomorrow would be rough without proper sleep, but he didn’t tell Copia, not wanting him to feel bad about talking through his problems.

“So, how are you feeling?” He asked.

“I think… a little better.” Copia sighed before yawning. “Sorry…” He smiled sheepishly.

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” Silas reassured before covering up his own yawn. “I guess the chamomile worked.”

He chuckled shortly. “Yeah. Well… thanks for listening to me. I really appreciate it.” Copia smiled.

“Of course, I’m always here to listen.” He placed his hand on his shoulder one last time before letting go, letting Copia stand up.

“I should probably try to get some sleep now… and you should too,” he looked down at him.

“Yeah… hopefully we can take it a little bit easier tomorrow?” Silas prompted.

How could Copia say no to him? Especially when he looked up at him with those soft brown eyes.

“I’ll um… I’ll see what can be done.” He cleared his throat, realizing it had been a moment since he’d said anything.

Silas beamed, and Copia tried ignoring the blush he felt.

“Goodnight, Silas.” Copia smiled and kept his hands clasped in front of him.

“Goodnight, Copia,” he replied. “I hope you can finally get some rest.”

Copia had his hand on the doorknob, turning it and opening the door. “Yeah… me too.” He gave Silas one last smile before leaving, quietly closing the door.

Copia sighed and walked across to his own room, yawning again as he went inside. Once his front door was closed and locked, he headed to his bathroom, quickly rinsing out leftover tea to help keep his teeth clean. He was too tired to do a full brushing. Rinsing would have to do.

He took off his robe, throwing it on the end of his bed. Copia pulled back the covers, crawling in and kicking off his slippers. Once settled, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling the coolness of the pillow on his face. It wasn’t long before he fully drifted off, his last thought being thankful for the talk with Silas.

---

Copia felt very underdressed in just a t-shirt and some shorts, though it wasn’t very practical wearing his usual cassock while gardening, so casual work clothes it was. Besides, it wasn’t like there were others outside with him. It was just him and what used to be Primo’s garden.

Copia worked on planting some new plants and shrubs, sighing and panting from exhaustion as he finished digging another hole. He knew soon it would be restored to how Primo had kept it. Copia had wanted to honor him, and this was the way he knew how.

He focused on removing the dead and withered plants and flowers, replacing them, and bringing life back into the garden. As well as planting some new types of greenery. A part of his plan was planting some of the flowers he knew the other Papas had liked. He remembered Primo mentioning it before. Copia knew it wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t bring them back, but it was something.

He didn’t mind too much working in the dirt, just as long as he could get clean afterward. He placed several seeds and plant bulbs into some of the new holes, remembering how Primo and some of the older ghouls used to teach him gardening when he was a kid.

After all the planting and maintenance, he walked along the garden as he watered the plants, making sure they all got enough water from the hose nearby. Finally, he put the hose back up and away, standing to admire all his hard work.

The garden, once empty and faded, was now starting to thrive again. It would take a bit of time for the new plants to fully sink their roots in and grow, but it was a start. Copia sighed, a sad smile on his face. His eyes started to tear up, imagining how proud Primo would be of him. At least he hoped he would be.

He preferred the quietness currently, taking in the chirping of the birds close by. Maybe one day he’d take Silas to this spot and show him the beautiful garden, but for now, he enjoyed the solitude.

Copia closed the garden gate on his way out, going inside to freshen up and hopefully see Silas afterward.

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Personal Favours

Captain Ochre fidgeted on the bed in Sickbay, bored. He felt fine! It was just a scratch, and Fawn was just being an old woman about the situation.

Time dragged on, and Ochre’s whining and complaining was only irritating the nurses, and thus, Doctor Fawn. The normally placid doctor was in danger of becoming decidedly grumpy.

Under-stimulation was making Ochre restless – a Fawn in a bad mood would at least be entertaining – so he decided to try again. “Aw, c’mon, Doc. It’s not so bad, let me out?”

Fawn’s eyes narrowed at him, crossing his arms across his chest. How a man so much smaller than him could loom so effectively, Ochre would never understand.

“I promise I’ll behave,” he continued wheedling. “I’ll stick to my quarters, the commissary, and the Officer’s Lounge. I’ll report back you morning and night until you release me for duty!”

The glare had turned considering, the one arm freeing itself from Fawn’s chest, and stroked his chin, elbow cradled in the other palm. Ochre sensed potential victory.

“I’d consider it a personal favour,” he pleaded.

Fawn’s eyebrows raised. “A personal favour? And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?”

Ochre stared, “Umm …”

Fawn’s eyebrows lowered into a stern frown. “Because a personal favour implies a return of service, no questions asked, at my discretion.”

Ochre nodded eagerly, Fawn hardly ever left Sickbay, what could he possibly ask for as a return of service?

“As well as the conditions you offered?”

Ochre’s head near fell off his neck, he was nodding so enthusiastically.

Fawn upped the force of the frown. “And you will use crutches at all times until I, personally, okay you to get off them?”

“Yes!”

Fawn paused, considering. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Subject to all those conditions, I will allow you a provisional release from Sickbay.” He picked up a clipboard, and scribbled on a piece of paper, before presenting it to Ochre.

Ochre took the clipboard, and read the paper. “I, Captain Ochre, in return for provisional release from Sickbay ahead of the optimal time, offer Doctor Fawn a return of services, a personal favour, no questions asked.” It was dated.

Ochre looked up at Fawn, questioningly. The medic shrugged. “I like to keep records. You perform the favour, you get the slip back.”

Ochre signed and returned the clipboard. Fawn glanced at the signature, and nodded. “Fine. I’ll get the rest of your paperwork sorted out, and then you can get out of here.”

Magenta, his jaw hanging comically loose, managed to find his voice. “Hey, Doc? Uh … Can I get in on that action?”

An hour later the two paroled patients shuffled into the Officer’s Lounge, much to the surprise of its occupants.

“Mon Dieu! What are you two doing here? If you have escaped from Sickbay without Docteur Fawn’s permission …”

Magenta grinned. “It’s fine, Destiny, we’re here with Fawn’s blessing. I don’t know how he managed it, but Ochre managed to strike a deal with Fawn for a conditional release, and I rode out on his coattails.”

Scarlet and Blue exchanged glances. “You struck a detail with Fawn?” Scarlet asked, “How on earth did you manage that?”

Ochre proudly outlined the terms, and there was a long silence, as everyone turned it over in their heads.

Finally Grey spoke, shaking his head. “I can’t see it, but mark my words, Fawn’s got a scheme cooking. He’ll get the last laugh, and this’ll all end in tears.”

It took some time, but Colonel White finally had enough evidence to prove a troubling trend. Sickbay had very clearly written guidelines, with very specific criteria for a patient’s release. However, lately Fawn was granting releases in advance of the proper time.

A quick check in with the nurse on admissions, assured White that the Doctor was free, and, informing a curious Lieutenant Green (who would assuredly be contacting the Officers Lounge to inform them the second the door closed behind him) of his destination, he left the Control Room and headed to Sickbay.

Fawn was waiting for him at Reception. “You wanted to see me?”

“Your office, if we can, Doctor?”

Fawn’s eyes flicked him up and down, very clearly assessing his physical condition, before nodding, and waving White through the door into Sickbay proper.

Partway down the corridor, Fawn had slipped past him to lead the way, finally opening the door and waving White in. “Take a seat,” Fawn instructed, as White walked in ahead of him. “Do you want a tea? Coffee?”

“No, thank you,” White said calmly, settling himself into the chair across from Fawn’s desk, ignoring the smaller, more comfortable chairs around a low occasional table.

Fawn secured the door, and walked around the desk to take his chair. “How can I help you today, Colonel?”

“I’ve been catching up on some reports, Doctor, and I have noticed an unusual trend. I wanted to make sure everything is good on your end.”

Fawn sat up straighter. “And what trend have you noticed?”

White suppressed a wince. He should have known that Fawn would take offence to a perceived criticism of his performance. “Nothing major, but from what I understand is you have been releasing Senior Staff from Sickbay before they properly should be released.”

Fawn relaxed back into his seat, his hands coming up to steeple in front of him, a large, satisfied – and decidedly worrying – grin on his face. “Oh yes. The ‘parole programme’ I believe they’re calling it. I’d been getting royally sick of their bad behaviour towards the end of their stay, and Ochre decided that he would take it as a ‘personal favour’ if I were to release him early. The others have all tagged onto his deal.”

White’s eyebrows rose. “Is this wise, Doctor? The guidelines are very clear, at your insistence.”

Fawn smirked. “Oh yes. They’ll all get a reminder shortly as to the wisdom of staying where they’re put.”

White decided he really didn’t want to know. “This isn’t going to be something that I will have to adjudicate.” It was as much a plea for reassurance as a warning.

Fawn chuckled. “You will hear about it, but unless I am very gravely mistaken, it won’t be anything official.” He pulled a bulging folder out of his desk drawer. “After all, they’ve all signed their souls away in exchange for their temporary freedoms.”

The Colonel pinched the bridge of his nose. “How soon will this be resolved, Edward?”

“Halloween.” At White’s surprised look, Fawn continued. “After all, that’s when the Devil traditionally collects his debts, isn’t it?”

White quickly made his excuses, and fled Sickbay. He wondered if he could arrange to evacuate himself from Cloudbase over Halloween.

It was the week before Halloween, and excitement was building on Cloudbase. Captains Ochre and Magenta were excitedly discussing the upcoming Halloween costume party with an assortment of ranks, arranged around a large table.

As they went to take their leave, a young – rather good-looking – female Lieutenant asked one final question: “Have you two organised your costumes?”

They promised enthusiastically that they had, indeed, organised costumes – admission to the party was on condition of dressing up, after all – and that they would be memorable.

Leaving the commissary, they didn’t notice Fawn slip in behind them until they were out in the corridor, and Fawn stepped easily between the pair, placing a hand on their shoulders.

As they jumped, Fawn chuckled, “Well, I certainly hope you’re not this jumpy at the Halloween party.”

Ochre blinked. Fawn had never shown the slightest bit of interest in Halloween before, pleading it wasn’t ‘culturally appropriate’, as Australia didn’t celebrate the holiday.

Fawn continued. “And as for your costumes, I hope they’re refundable, because you shan’t be needing them.”

The two men stared at him in shock. “But …” Magenta began weakly.

Fawn produced four slips of paper. It was two of their ‘Favour IOUs’ apiece. “I’m calling in some of the favours you owe.”

Ochre paled. “But the party …”

Fawn smiled. “Oh, don’t worry. You’re still going. In fact, I insist on it. I’ve just taken the liberty of arranging your costumes; they’re waiting in your quarters.” He waved two of the slips. “That clears one favour. As a bonus, if you complete the task accompanying the costumes, you can clear another.”

The pair stared at him in mute shock. Fawn’s smile grew into a grin. “Don’t look so worried boys, it’s a party. It’ll be fun!” He turned to head off down the corridor. “I’ll see you there!”

Twenty minutes later, Ochre was desperately hammering on Magenta’s door. It slid open to admit him, Magenta standing on the other side, a bemused grin on his face. Ochre scuttled in, hurriedly shutting the door behind him.

He thrust the costume he had found in his quarters at Magenta. “Look at what he expects me to wear!”

Magenta took a long look at it, before bursting out laughing.

“It’s not funny!” And no, Ochre’s voice had not risen to a shriek.

Magenta only laughed harder, and indicated the costume spread out on his bed. Ochre advanced, and stared, horrified. He threw his costume next to it in disgust. “We can’t wear this! We’ll be a laughing stock!”

The Irishman gradually got himself under control. “Oh, god. Brad was right!” He wiped tears from his eyes. “You got to admit, Fawn’s got one hell of an evil sense of humour!”

“We can’t wear this!” Ochre reiterated.

Magenta shrugged. “We’ve got to. We agreed. We signed. Fawn’s got us over a barrel, and the smug bastard planned it all along.” He giggled again. “It’s not so bad,” he grinned.

Ochre grabbed his costume again, and waved it at his field partner. “This dress has a thigh-high slit!” he hissed.

Magenta smirked. “Are you gonna shave your legs?” he asked, before bursting into peels of laughter again.

“And what about the ‘bonus task’?” Ochre demanded, waving a folder in the air.

Magenta took it and looked at the papers inside, giggling inanely. “Oh, this is classic!” he sniggered. “Better than mine.” He offered Ochre his folder.

Ochre looked at it, like his, it was a musical score with lyrics. They were both expected to sing. Presumably the songs matched the costumes, but the dresses and songs meant nothing to him.

He threw Magenta’s folder back on the bed in disgust. “What are we gonna do?”

Magenta shrugged. “We’re gonna go to the party in the costumes Fawn has so kindly arranged. And I don’t know about you, but what the hell, I’m gonna do the song. If Fawn’s after payback, I might as well have fun, and put on a good show.” He looked Ochre dead in the eye. “Face it, Rick. Fawn’s owned us, and we went tripping right into his trap.”

Ochre morosely gathered up his costume. Magenta was right, he had no choice.

Halloween was a time for horror stories but, he reflected glumly, horror stories were only fun if you weren’t the victim.

Rumours had been running rampant around Cloudbase for the whole week. That Captain Ochre of all people, had suddenly lost his enthusiasm for Halloween was cause for concern, and even Colonel White had taken notice.

Oddly enough, Doctor Fawn had not been concerned, along with Captain Magenta, a fact that was not lost on the rest of the senior staff. When questioned, Fawn feigned ignorance, and Magenta just grinned and tapped the side of his nose.

When the party had opened without Ochre and Magenta in attendance, people were becoming even more concerned. It was highly unlike the highly extroverted ex-cop to be late for a party. Further attempts to interrogate Fawn were met were a shrug, and the suggestion that maybe they wanted to make a big entrance.

Captain Ochre did not want to make a big entrance to the party. Captain Ochre did not want to enter the party. At. All. At least, not in the clothes he was wearing. But Magenta had mercilessly bullied him out of his quarters, and to the door of the large conference room where the party was in full swing.

Ochre dithered, until Magenta lost his patience, and activated the door panel, striking a pose as the door slid open. There was pandemonium as they were noticed. Laughter, applause and wolf-whistles.

Ochre grudgingly admitted to himself, that Fawn had done an amazing job on the costumes for them, even though he could hardly wait to escape back to his quarters.

As they were both pulled into the middle of the room, Melody Angel trotted up, dressed as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, complete with a robotic toy dog on a leash as Toto. She grinned mischievously at Ochre.

“Queen Elsa,” she curtsied before him and turned to Magenta. “Princess Anna.” Another curtsey.

She stepped back and surveyed them. “A very good job of costumes. Fawn did well.”

Ochre glared at her, before grabbing at his skirt fabric, desperately trying to keep it from exposing his leg. “How did you know it was Fawn? Did he say anything to you about this? Did. You. Help. Him?” The last was a very clear threat.

Melody laughed again. “To your questions: nope and nope. As to how I know … Well, let’s just say, Fawn’s costume makes a whole lot of sense now, honey.”

Fawn’s costume. Ochre scanned the room and spotted the Doctor lounging against the wall, enjoying the show. At Ochre’s glare, he straightened up, and sketched out a courtly bow. Ochre gritted his teeth, but he had to admit, the Doctor did have a sense of humour.

Magenta had forced him to watch the damn movie, resulting in many, many hours of ear-worms. And that was how he recognised Fawn’s character. Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles. Only the freakin’ villain of the movie.

It was a good match. Fawn was the two-faced, lying, scheming, manipulative villain of this whole evening.

Captain Grey, cunningly – if predictably – disguised as Neptune, sidled up to the two Princesses. “Fawn?” he guessed.

“Go on, say I told you so,” Ochre grumped. “You said the medical parole scheme would all end in tears.”

“I’ll say,” Magenta chimed in, cheerfully. “I laughed so much I cried when I found what Fawn’s favour was.”

Scarlet and Blue froze. “This is Fawn’s doing?” the Bostonian whimpered.

“Oh, yes,” Fawn trotted up, looking immensely pleased with himself. “And I must say, you two pulled it off beautifully. I’m looking forward to the performance.” He offered the two, a single piece of paper each, which they seized gladly.

Magenta grinned, and offered his hand, which Fawn took, bowed over, and kissed. “Princess.” He bowed at Ochre. “Queen Elsa.” Before being seized by an exuberant female technician dressed as an Amazon warrior, and, thus emboldened, claimed the Doctor as a dance partner. Fawn’s grin disappeared on the dance floor.

Scarlet blinked. “Well, Fawn’s certainly having fun.” He eyed Ochre. “Have you two somehow done a body swap, because you’re acting more like him that he is.” He indicated the dance floor.

Blue snagged Ochre’s piece of paper, and read it. He paled beautifully under his tan, it really helped him sell the undead look he had going. “This is a favour. This is what he’s called in a favour for?”

Ochre snatched the paper back, and tore it up, before freezing. “No pockets,” he cursed. Melody offered her basket, and Ochre gladly stuffed the paper fragments in under the cloth.

“What is the performance he mentioned?” Scarlet asked, fiddling with the ridiculously long scarf draped all over his body.

Magenta grinned. “If we each perform a song from the movie, we can cancel out another favour owed.”

Rhapsody, a perfectly poised and pink version of Scarlet’s rumpled looking persona, laughed. “Oh, please tell me Ochre’s singing ‘Let It Go’!”

He nodded glumly.

“What’s your song, Magenta? As I recall, Anna had a few good songs.”

Magenta grinned. “I got ‘Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?’”

Suddenly, the young lieutenant Ochre had been planning on having a very good time with at the party came barrelling up to them. “Oh, wow, Ochre! You really weren’t kidding, were you? You really made sure you would be memorable!” She eyed him critically. “Oh, yeah, you really do have the legs to pull that off!”

She grabbed him by the arm, and almost pulled him off his high heels as she dragged him to the dance floor. “Let’s see if those legs are good for more than just looks!”

Somehow, the party wasn’t a total disaster. Everyone had been positive about the fact that two men were wearing dresses, and Ochre had eventually relaxed enough to have fun, and had even managed to raise the roof with his rendition of ‘Let it Go’, which, he noted smugly, was better received than Magenta’s ‘Do You Want to Build A Snowman?’

But it was with a feeling of intense relief that Ochre slipped out of the party and back to his own quarters. He kicked off the shoes – how did girls wear these all day? – and shimmied out of the dress, the long blonde wig having been carried back, only the need to scratch his scalp had prevented him from carrying the shoes, as well.

There was a knock on his door, and Ochre hurriedly pulled on his sweat pants and jumper before answering it. It was Fawn, still dressed immaculately in his costume. He offered Ochre a piece of paper. “Your other Favour, as promised.”

Ochre snatched the paper and took great glee in tearing it up into confetti. Fawn leaned against the door frame, watching bemusedly. “Have a good night?” he asked innocently.

“No thanks to you,” Ochre growled. But there wasn’t any heat behind it. He had to admit, he had been had, and had good.

Fawn pulled an exaggeratedly sad face. “Oh, poor baby.” Ochre eyed him wearily. “How many more of the damned things do I owe you?”

The doctor considered a moment. “Only seven,” he said finally. Ochre closed his eyes in despair.

“Oh, cheer up,” Fawn chuckled. “I’m a benevolent evil overlord, after all.”

Ochre glared at him. “Disney Princesses, really? How is that benevolent?”

Fawn smiled sweetly, and stepped out of the doorway. As the door slid shut, he called, “I was considering the ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show’.”

It was only three days later that Ochre found himself back in Sickbay, a 3 inch knife cut on his upper arm courtesy of a drugged-out biker hell-bent on stopping the ‘fucking clown cops’ from arresting his (Mysteronised) buddy.

Luckily it was shallow, and would only require cleaning and stitches, and the obligatory twenty-four-hour observation period to monitor for possible contaminants having been introduced into the wound.

Ochre sat obediently on the bed, as the nurse fussed around. Fawn entered the ward, and stood at the end of his bed, making a notation on the chart. “Well, Captain, it’s all good news. Preliminary blood work has come up clean, and, your wound has been very nicely stitched up, if I do say so myself.”

Fawn replaced the chart, and smirked at Ochre. “Would you like to consider a ‘parole’, Captain?”

Ochre settled back into the pillows, reaching for his water jug. “No thanks, Doc. I really don’t think I could pull off fishnets and pearls.”

Fawn smirked. “No, I don’t suppose you could. But Blue and Symphony would make such a wonderful Brad and Janet, don’t you think?”

Ochre choked on a mouthful of water, necessitating the nurse to pat him on the back to clear his airways.

Fawn raised his eyebrows. “You don’t agree? Hmm, you may be right. Still, plenty of time to think about it. After all, Halloween only comes around once a year!”

Notes:

By and large, Halloween isn’t a ‘thing’ in Australia, despite retail’s desperate attempts to make it one. They must get some sales, ‘cause they keep putting cheap tacky ‘decorations’ on the shelves, but on the whole – no.

But Cloudbase is multinational, with Americans rather overrepresented in the senior staff, so as they say: when in Rome …

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Captain Scarlet, either the Original or CGI Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[potionsprefect]

The Best Present

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 879

Summary: Victoria and Ethan exchange Christmas presents

Rating: Teen

Category: Fluff

Victoria brought in hers and Ethan’s stockings from their bedroom, both of them in their pyjamas after a delicious Christmas dinner.

Neither regretted the decision to work today, it meant that those who had young children could spend the day with them. Ethan and Victoria hoped that one Christmas, that would be the case for them.

Maybe this time next year, they would have a child of their own to celebrate with.

“Here you go. Now fair warning, you don’t have to like anything I bought. I’ve prepared myself for your eye rolling.” Victoria laughed as she sat down beside Ethan on the couch and handed him his stocking.

“You know I’ll love anything from you. You’re my wife after all.” Ethan laughed pressing a kiss to Victoria’s cheek. He picked up his first present and opened it.

“You’re going to hate me for this one.” Victoria laughed.

Ethan held up the item. “Socks. I knew I should never have told you my worst Christmas present.” He laughed.

“At least these aren’t eccentric in colour.” Victoria said.

“That’s one thing. And because they’re from you, I love them.” Ethan pulled Victoria into his arms. “Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You always need to keep your feet warm.” Victoria smiled.

“Very true. Open one of yours.”

Victoria picked up one present, it was soft. She opened it and laughed. “Socks as well?”

“So you don’t put your cold feet on me when we’re in bed.”

“You secretly love it don’t you.” Victoria giggled.

“Absolutely not. You’re so annoying when you do that.” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, you still love me.”

“Of course.” Ethan laughed.

The couple continued to open their stocking presents, Ethan had gotten a bottle of scotch and medical diaries from doctors in the field. For Victoria, Ethan had stuck with what he knew she loved, chocolate and alcohol. He had even found her favourite chocolate from the UK.

“Okay, now it’s time for your main present. I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I thought I’d broaden my horizons a bit. I hope you like it.” Victoria said.

She got up and picked up an envelope from the kitchen counter, handing it to Ethan as she sat back down.

Ethan unsealed the envelope and pulled out what was inside. He unfolded the piece of paper to reveal a picture of a beach.

“Where’s this?” Ethan asked.

“Madison in Connecticut. A week in June, far away from the hospital for just the two of us. I went through so many options and thought staying on the East Coast would be the best.”

“This is great. And some alone time with my wife is perfect.” Ethan grinned as he pressed a kiss to Victoria’s cheek.

“This is the hotel.” Victoria grabbed her laptop and found the website. “I thought we might as well stay in luxury so I went with the Hilton. We have our own balcony overlooking the beach.”

“They could’ve chosen better carpet.”

“Is that really your only observation?” Victoria rolled her eyes.

“It’s a decent one. I hate patterned floors.” Ethan shrugged.

“Well hopefully you won’t be looking at the art in the room.”

“No, I’ll be looking at the art on the bed.” Ethan grinned as he pressed heated kisses to Victoria’s neck.

“Good save Mr Ramsey.” Victoria giggled.

“Thank you Mrs Ramsey. And thank you for this present. I can’t wait for some alone time with you.” Ethan pulled her into a hug.

“Me too.” Victoria pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“Time for your present now. And I’m proud of myself for this so I hope you like it.” Ethan smiled as he handed Victoria a small bag.

Victoria took out the tissue paper and picked up a small box. She opened it and gasped. “A bracelet? Ethan it’s beautiful.”

“That’s not all. There should be another box in the bag.” Ethan replied.

Victoria looked inside and Ethan was right. A much smaller box sat at the bottom, Victoria took it out and opened it. It was a charm, in the shape of a wedding shoe.

“You can add new charms every time we hit a new milestone. I thought the perfect one to start with was a wedding shoe to represent our marriage.” Ethan smiled.

“I love it. Thank you so much.” Victoria replied pulling Ethan in for a hug. “Will you help me put it on?”

“Of course.” Ethan took the charm and the bracelet and carefully attached the two together.

“How comes there’s a penny there as well?” Victoria asked, having just noticed the small item in the box.

“I got the charm from a shop in the UK. I thought the penny was a nice touch.” Ethan smiled.

Victoria looked at the bracelet on her wrist, a big smile on her face. “I love it. And I love you. Thank you for the best Christmas ever.”

“The first of many. I love you Mrs Ramsey.” Ethan smiled.

“I love you too Mr Ramsey.” Victoria smiled as she attached her lips to his.

The couple basked in each others company, kissing as snow began to fall outside their window.

Their first Christmas was perfect, and going forward so would every Christmas that followed.

Merry Christmas Eve! I thought I’d post this today to get everyone in the festive mood!

I will defo make some edits of their trip to Madison

Tagging in reblog

[russeliarat]

BotW’s blights and divine beast designs are so fucking boring and I’m mad no one seems to recognise this enough. To me, the most interesting was Vah Ruta because it had such memorable puzzles to me. I will never stop remembering how it took an embarrassing amount of times to jump off that fucking trunk correctly. Anyway, the main issue for the divine beast interiors are that it all looks so similar inside that I got lost so often (and it’s not just my bad sense of direction talking, I’ve heard this from a bunch of other people too). And with the blights, they all look so damn same-y that there’s nothing very memorable about each individual design unless you’re looking at them for so long trying to recreate them in some way. I genuinely cannot tell you which one had that massive arm and which one was basically just a torso.

It would have been so cool to incorporate elements of each Champion and their hometowns into the Blight designs to differentiate them. Vah Medoh floats above snowy mountaintops that houses the Rito, so why not have Windblight be this monster formed from blackened snow and ice and the feathers of those it’s claimed the life of held together by Calamity Ganon’s bindings and Malice, using Revali’s Gale to form its tornados. Waterblight could have its chest cavity completely frozen over with Mipha’s body inside, feeding off of her healing magic as it chucks around giant ice projectiles from freezing the surrounding waters. Fireblight could be formed purely from rock and stone with weak spots from cracks of magma instead of just its eye, compared to the sleeker designs of its brethren, making it a heavy hitter but very slow and easily susceptible to Link’s mining weaponry, meaning it uses Daruk’s Protection to keep it safe in times of low health. And Thunderblight, the bugger, has easily got the most recognisable Blight design because of its smaller build and the ancient weaponry it uses. But I’d go one step further and make it made purely of different golds and metals, with those pillars it throws at Link spiking straight through its back like a warped, metal spine. If I wanted to go even further, I’d say it adorns itself with the jewellery and headpieces of those it has killed like trophies of its accomplishment.

And the inside of the Divine Beasts could have been just as interesting as their exteriors, despite being discovered as Sheikah-built relics. Imagine if once each race found the Divine Beasts, they made them their own since you know, they are known to be able to communicate with the beasts somehow and literally pilot them. Perhaps these decorations were created by the previous Champions from 10,000 years ago, rather than the ones of more recent memory.

Vah Medoh gives me such huge Castle in the Sky vibes, all I can think about is if they made the inside this grand, overgrown relic of a structure. I imagine stone and wooden archways and pillars with engravings of the Rito, covered in frozen moss and vines. Feathers and once-vividly coloured, now greyed pieces of cloth hang from them by string, some broken off by Malice and burnt to crisp, while others were consumed by plants in the hundred years it took Link to wake from his slumber and free both Revali and his divine beast. 

The Zora are quite proud with their culture and people and Vah Ruta was likely considered a part of said culture. Imagine if Vah Ruta were covered in luminous stones and beautiful gemstones naturally lighting the beast and its slumber within the depths of the reservoir lake covered it in corals and seagrass and kelp and colourful algae. It had become a beautiful oasis for ocean life while spewing out all that water that had begun to overflow the reservoir. But, these fish had to adapt to the Malice that contaminated the waters, and so became mutated and not quite right. They all glow with the shadows the luminous stone don’t light. It may be best that Link doesn’t try to fish from or drink the waters within Vah Ruta.

Personally, I feel that the best part about Vah Rudania was the part right at the beginning that had Link lighting torches and killing Malice in the dark. I feel it would be fun if the inside was basically all done in complete darkness and each terminal would open up one of Rudania’s little sunroofs, showing the place is completely full of volcanic rock and magma seeping through small cracks that initially provide slivers of light for Link as he marches through without a torch. Doors are made almost completely of  strong volcanic glass structures that shatter upon the original doors, now almost completely crumbled in from some crushing force, mechanism forcing it to open. I imagine that the floor had barely any Malice due to it being burned to nothing by molten lava flow, which is what Link has to avoid instead. Doesn’t stop it from growing on the walls, though.

Oddly enough, I imagine Vah Naboris to be the most like its canon design, mostly because the main chamber functions exactly as it should. It’s got a huge amount of space for the turning mechanism and the Thunderblight fight, and I think that’s how it should be. Though, it would be nice to imagine that there’s a bunch of engravings and scratchings into the surface of the Divine Beast about the Gerudo and their beliefs and such. I like to imagine that even Urbosa has contributed to them despite having her hands tied with all of her chiefly duties.

Yeah, BotW had bland dungeons and bosses, but pretty much everything else makes up for it tbh.

[abbatoirablaze]

The Understudies, Season 2, Chapter 1

Word Count:  1.8k

Warnings:  none really

“Miss?” the nurse asked, breaking me from my thoughts of the names I’d conjured.  She took a few nervous steps in, “miss…we have a phone number for your father if you wanted to call him.  He keeps disconnecting on us.  The phone by your bedside is able to be used…I’ll be right outside if you need anything, okay sweetheart?”

I nodded.  She handed me a piece of paper, and then curtly left the room.  I felt the ball of nerves rise into my throat from my stomach.  Sitting up, I threw my legs over the side of the bed.  Forgetting about the paper beside me, I took a second to look down when my feet didn’t touch the floor.

What on earth?

I looked at my arms.  Why did I feel smaller?

I got up and ran to the bathroom that was connected to my room.  I rushed to pull the cord by the mirror, but I didn’t need it to confirm my suspicions.  As the electricity buzzed into the bulb, I stared at myself in horror.  I looked like a teenager. 

Something about this felt wrong. 

I screamed. 

The light shattered and the bathroom went dark. 

The nurse came bustling in and tried to calm me down.  Tried to get me into the bed, “it’s okay sweetheart.  It’s okay.  What’s wrong?”

“I look so different,” I shuddered, mortified in seeing a teenage version of myself, “what happened to me?”

I was sobbing.  She held onto me and rubbed my back. 

“You’ve been in a coma for nearly a year, sweetheart,” she said, patting a moist towel to my forehead and cheeks, “you’ve changed a lot.  You’re undergoing some changes…but the doctor can explain it all to you, sweetheart.”

It didn’t feel right.  In my dream I was older.  I remember being older. 

“I’m older,” I said, trying to convince her of something I felt in my heart, “I’ve been a mother.  I’ve driven a car.  I had a boyfriend.”

“Oh sweetie,” she cooed, a hand on my cheek, “you can’t be more than 13 years old.  There’s no way you’ve done any of those things.”

“I-I”

“You must have dreamt it all up.  You know, they say that people can feel like they’ve lived a whole life if they’ve fallen into a coma,” she sighed, instantly coddling me, “poor thing…you’ve been through so much.”

She looked at me, waiting for my reaction.  Internalizing all of my terrified thoughts, I nodded along with her, “but…my father.  Y-you say I’ve been out in a coma for a year?”

“You should call him…did you call yet?”

I shook my head.  She gave me a soft smile, nodded, and then picked up the rotary phone.  I closed my eyes, trying to think of anything that would point to my life.  The only thing that came to mind was Reginald Hargreeves.  An older gentleman who always wore a suit and had an umbrella.  I fell into a trance as I heard the dial click every time she went to dial another number. 

“Sweetheart?”

I opened my eyes.  The dial stopped clicking.  She held out the phone, and I took it.  Without another word she walked into the hall and closed the door.  The gentle ringing stopped as I put the phone to my ear.  

“Hello?”

“Reginald Hargreeves.”

“Who is this?”

“Dicere nobis necesse est.  Scio quid estis vos.” (We need to talk.  I know what you are.)

I heard a sigh, “Ego in Dallas.  Credo tibi hospitium est vocant unum per circuitum.”  (I am in Dallas.  I presume you are the one the hospital has been calling about.)

“Ego filiam tuam, Brianna.” (I am your daughter, Brianna)

I heard a gasp, “tantum scio Brianna –“ (the only Brianna I know)

“Mater tua,” I said cutting him off, “et fui mortuus coram venisti huc ante annos.” (is your mother.  And she was dead before you came here years ago.)

“We will speak,” he said, taking a deep inhale, finally in English.  I smiled to myself, knowing that was the only way to get his attention.  Latin was the key with Reginald, “I will send a car in one hour.  Tell them to have your discharge papers ready.”

The line disconnected before I could respond. 

I hung the phone up and stood unsteadily on my feet.  Walking over to the door, I opened it and went out to the nurse’s station where the kind woman had said that she would be. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” I asked.  The woman turned around, and my breath caught in my throat. 

“What can I do for you sweetheart?” the woman asked, a deep Southern drawl.

“I uh-“ I stuttered. 

Something about her looked so familiar. 

“Do I know you?”

“Of course you do, sweetie,” the lady laughed, “I’m your physician.  But you can call me Doctor Grace.”

“Sir Reginald Hargreeves requests your presence at the car, Miss.”

Grace put an arm around me in a protective manner, “sir, I’m not to release this girl into anyone’s care but her fathers.”

The older gentleman buttoned the middle button of his jacket and nodded, disappearing down the hall. I looked at Grace, who had yet to let go of me.  That’s when it all came back to me…why she looked so familiar.  Being tucked under her arm, I remembered a time when I was little, and Reginald had made a robotic version of her.  It felt like it was another lifetime.  But here she was, standing in front of me.

“Mom.”

She laughed, “oh darlin, I’m not nobody’s momma.”

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, pulling away from her and sitting on the bed, “I just…you look a lot like her…”

“Brianna.”

I turned around and Reginald look like his breath caught in his throat.  But he was staring at Grace. 

“Mr. Hargreeves?”

He nodded, “I am he.”

“We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a moment,” she laughed, “we’ve had your daughter listed as Jane Doe for over a year.”

“Boarding school,” he lied quickly, recovering whatever thoughts he tried to have, “she was supposed to be in boarding school in Europe.”

“And no one called to tell you she was missing?”

He shook his head, “no.  I suppose I should have a word with them.”

“Well Mr. Hargreeves I’d invest in a different school,” she laughed, “I’ll give ya’ll a few minutes to get caught up…alright?”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off her until she closed the door. 

“She’s our mom,” I whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “at least…you make a robot version of her to raise us.”

“Who are you?” he said, still staring at the door, “You’re not FBI, MI6, or even a Russian…how do you know me?”

“October 1, 1981,” I responded quickly, “That’s the day I, along with 42 other children are born to women who were not pregnant at the beginning of that day.  All of us have superpowers.  But this really isn’t a conversation we should be having in a public place, lest you want me to get tossed in a loony bin.”

“Abhijat said the doctor wouldn’t let you leave with him.”

“It’s nice to see he’s alive here.”

Reginald raised a brow, “he’s not alive in whatever place you came from?”

I bit my lip, “He dies due to one of the children’s outbursts…”

“What year?”

“1994,” I admitted, “you were going to let him go home to India to retire.  Vanya did not take that well and snapped his neck.  You make a robot of him too, but he’s nowhere near as popular as mom.”

“We have a lot to discuss, don’t we little one?”

“Only if you care to know it,” I nodded. “If not, you can leave me here…”

“But you know I wouldn’t do that!” he commented, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly.

I smiled, “you’re too curious, papa.  You wouldn’t leave me here alone.”

“You’re my favorite, aren’t you?”

I nodded, sitting on the bed, “is that curiosity why you really agreed to come today?  Or do you have other reasons?”

“You said you knew what I was.”

“Two zippers,” I said slowly as he sat down.  I touched each spot as I pointed it out, “one at the crown of the back of your head, and another on your back, right between your shoulder blades.”

The mask didn’t betray his confusion, but the twitch on his lip told me he believed I knew about him, “when?”

“I was six,” I replied, “I never told my siblings about that day.  But you were trying to coax me into showing what my full abilities were.  They only knew that I can become invisible…but you had a feeling I could do more…I got my full powers at a delayed age, and almost died.  You had me in the medical wing of the basement for a month before I came out of my transformation.  You showed me what you truly are, and told me that I would always be safe with you…you told me that you wouldn’t force me to be part of the team, nor would you do any experiments on me.”

“Well then, “he began, trying to read me, “if all of this is true, I cannot leave you here.  If anyone were to get to you and realize who you are, it could be catastrophic.”

“I know.  It’s why I called you first.”

“Invisibility,” he muttered, “did I ever learn about any of your other powers?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head, “Dani wouldn’t let me show you.  She made me promise.”

“Who is Dani?”

“Dani is my twin sister, Danielle,” I told him, “she had similar powers, none of which she showed you either…you two didn’t like one another.  You once told me that she held me back from achieving my true potential…”

“Why are you telling me this sort of thing now then?”

“We jumped back into the past to stop the apocalypse which happens in 2019…at least, that’s the story I think is right” I sighed, “I can’t put together the whole story right off the bat, and there are a lot of blank spaces, but I know that Five sent us back.  As far as I know I’m the only one to make it out…and if I’m the only one that made it out alive I need to make sure that we don’t have the same problems…we need to make sure they get fixed before they ever happen.”

“And how do you propose that?”

“I’m going to help you papa,” I smiled, “we’re gonna make a better world for everyone.”

He chuckled softly, and smiled at me, “I know you say we don’t meet one another for another few decades, but I feel as though we are kindred spirits little one.”

“I must have made it back for a reason…and clearly me being able to get in touch with you is one of them.”

He patted my knee and stood up.  Then he held his hand out to me, “well little one, we’ve got a lot of work to do then.  So let’s get started.”

Chapter 2

[arcanumofthestars]

From a Soul to Another

Here is my prompt for @arcanefans4gaza! This is the first chapter, the second one will be posted this week!

Word count: 3k

I can feel the blood rushing in my veins as I run- they haven’t stopped chasing me for what feels like hours. The child in my arms keeps moving, and I have a feeling he won’t stop, no matter what I tell him. It doesn’t really matter, he’s not slowing me down that much. I just hope he doesn’t suffocate in all the cloth I’ve wrapped him in. It’s a gift that he stopped crying twenty minutes or so ago, so I won’t ask for more.

I hear officers shouting behind me. I hoped they’d have lost me by now, but I underestimated them. I got out of the base around twenty minutes ago, and they don’t seem to get tired. I have to reach the hangar, a spaceship might be my only way out of here.

The original plan was to get out of the facilities and immediately head to the hangar, but this kid changed it completely. I could have left him behind of course, but I believe that would make me worse than the Empire’s monsters. Now I’m headed towards the city, my only chance on actually losing the officers. I am moving away from any useful way of transportation, but hopefully I will be able to turn around and find a spaceship later, before they close the dome for the night.

The first houses start to appear in front of me. Good. There is a market opening today, so escape will be easier through all the stands and people- last time a market opened there was traffic blocking most of the roads.

The boy has started crying. I can’t exactly hear it, but something tells me he is slowly realising the reality of our situation. I take a sharp right turn and finally enter the market. It’s full with people, moving around here is going to be difficult. But as difficult it is for me, it will be more to the ones after us. My feet are starting to ache, muscles burning from all the effort. I try not to knock over things on my way, it would only alert the officers and guide them towards me. On the other hand, they themselves don’t seem to particularly care about that. I can hear the people who’s merchandise and edibles have been practically destroyed, yelling to my chasers to pay for the ruined items.

I finally stop in a narrow alley behind some bar. The kid’s cries are getting louder and louder now. I take a better look at him. He’s about two years old, with dark tufts of hair around his round face. He’s incredibly skinny, and you’d think they would feed force sensitive kids better, heck, take care of them like they are royalty, as they are likely to become the next genrals of the Empire. Yet this one is quite the opposite, his ribs showing on his chest. He must be hungry, that’s why he’s crying. It’s a good thing I stole some apples from back there then.

I’m not sure he can even chew it, so I cut the apples into smaller pieces with my pocket knife. He takes the slices with his small hands and starts nibbling on them, one by one- I was right, he wouldn’t have been able to eat even slices slightly bigger.

We wait there for a few hours. There is no sight of the officers, meaning I can finally relax, but not for long. We have to get a spaceship before the alarm sounds or we will be trapped here for the night, and I’m not sure I can provide shelter for myself, the toddler is a completely different thing.

When the sky starts getting orange, I finally start to move. I carefully head to the hangar. It’s remarkably easier to get a spaceship this time, without anyone chasing us. I am confident I will be able to fly this thing on my own, though I have never done something similar before. I tie the kid tightly to the seat beside me, just when the dome alarm sounds.

“Shit.”

As easily I’d sneaked in three minutes before, getting out was going to be five times harder. The last missions from the outside were already visible on the edges of the city’s horizon, returning before they get locked out. That’s when the hangar suddenly fills with officers weilding guns- fully loaded from what I can say from my own experience of hunting ‘traitors’.

“Put your hands where I can see them and get out of the ship! Now!”

Well at least they don’t know about the kid - yet. I look around for anything I can use to defend myself, as these types of spaceships are usually armed for emergency exits. My time is running out and I cannot risk them getting on the ship. That’s when I see it. A gun, longer than my forearm. It’s nothing like the ones the officers are weilding, but it’ll have to do for now. Let’s just hope it’s loaded.

I open the window to their direction. They raise their guns, ready to shoot at any suspicious movement.

“Alright, I’m coming out now!” I shout.

They remain at their positions. I reach behind me for the gun. Shooting above the kid is gonna be tricky - at least the sounds will cover any potential crying.

“Hands where I can see them!” The officer repeats. I don’t recognise him, he must be of the new ones. Pretty strange that he managed to get his own team this fast. Almost alarming.

I slowly raise my left arm, keeping the right down. Before they can react, I pull the lever that must be the one that starts the engines. A low humming sound informs me that I am right. That’s when the officers actually start shooting at us. I raise my gun and start shooting as well, through the window I had previously opened. The baby is safe, I’m pretty sure that all ships are made bulletproof now, and the angle to hit him is practically impossible to manage, more so considering the fact they don’t know he’s here.

We take off in a rush. The rest of our journey passes in a bit of a blur. I still remember the voices of the officers. Some I even recognised. I wouldn’t call them my friends, but still, we had our moments. I must be wanted in all the sustem now. Haidoral wasn’t for me anyway. I need adrenaline to survive. Our little trip ends in a few hours. We will land on Naboo and then hopefully I can leave the kid to some family to be raised. I certainly cannot raise a child. Not alone.

By the time we approach Naboo, the boy is long asleep. He probably should have been fed hours ago, but I don’t have anything to give him. It is then when the alarm goes off, red lights goinr on and off, the siren almost deafening. The engine is crashing down. There is no way to fix it. The kid starts crying again. We will never make it. We are miles away from the nearest city. We will crash. And if we don’t die during the landing... starvation is not going to be pretty. I wish I’d taken the biome survival class while training. I don’t know any of these plants or animals.

All the buttons and levers are useless. No matter what I push, pull or press, nothing happens. At this point, the ship starts filling with smoke. We must be on fire. I unbuckle my belt and search the back of the ship for anything that I can use to help us land safely. There is only some rope and fabric. It will have to do. I have about three minutes before we fall to our deaths. The siren makes my head hurt, the smoke blinds me. We need air. My craft is ready. It is supposed to work as a parachute, with four ropes tied on the sides of a backpack, and the fabric on the other sides.

I grab the child forcefully and wear the backpack. The doors aren’t opening. The ground is coming closer and closer. I kick the door again. It opens with a crack and falls to the ground. I can’t see. The smoke is too much. I finally breathe fresh air in the first time for what feels like ages.

Eight hundred feet from the ground. I tie the crying child on me with what’s left of the rope.

Seven hundred feet. A gust of wind hits me, almost pushing me out of the ship.

Six hundred and fifty feet. I take a deep breath.

Six hundred feet. I jump.

One might say that the parachute was not needed, and since imperial officers are especially trained on jumping from any kind of means of transportation when necessary, I could've easily just rolled on the ground to minimise any effects the landing might cause.

That one, especially that one, can go fuck themselves. You don't jump out of ANYTHING with an infant on you without a parachute. Thanks.

It opens just in time, and as I finally step on the ground, I realise that the ship is going to fall on top of us. I quickly run away as fast as I can. The wind is howling, as I try to avoid all the branches and roots. We had to fall in a forest.

I assume I must have been running for merely a few seconds but it feels like hours, when I hear a loud crash behind me. There is no reason to turn around, I know what has happened. I only hope I can find shelter in time, before the flames take our lives. I try to hold the kid as I can, but I can feel him starting to slide off of me.

It is when I try to readjust my hold that I don’t see the root and trip, twisting my ankle in the process. The last moment before I hit the ground, face first, I turn around to put the child on top of me, and I land on my back. I try to get up with a grunt, and the smell of smoke fills my nostrils. In an instant, fire is all around us. I look around trying to find an escape, but there is none. I start coughing, the kid is crying, but even if I call for help, who in their right mind would be in a forest in Naboo at this hour?

There is a log on my left that isn’t on fire - not for long. I try to lift it up, still coughing, but it doesn’t move an inch. By now I have grown desperate, pulling, pushing with everything I have. We will not die from a fire. Not after we’ve been through all this.

My vision blurs and my legs give out. I can no longer hear the kid. The log is suddenly lifted, by nothing, it seems. A hand reaches out from the other side of the wall of fire that surrounds us. I don’t stand to think who it might be, I just grab it and get up. We start to run.

As we race against the flames, she - for it is a woman that has saved us - guides me. She seems to know where we are going. From what I can see of her as she continues to pull me forward, she has bright pinkish hair, most likely dyed. She is somewhat shorter than me, yet more muscular. That must explain how she managed to lift that log to free us.

The fire clears up, now behind us, yet we don’t stop. While we run, I have plenty time to think. Replaying the memories in my head, I don’t remeber seeing her lift the log at all- it looked as if it was done with the Force. I push the thought aside. There is no way a Jedi just appeared here.

We reach a wooden gate. She opens it, and quickly pushes me through. Inside I can see a clearing in the forest, with soft grass and even patches of flowers all around. In the middle of it all there is a wooden cabin. It doesn’t look too old or too big. If she lives alone, that explains the size. I can’t imagine her living with anyone anyway. Judging from the silence during our little happy race here, she’s not used to having visitors either.

By the time I finish looking around, she has reached the door of the cabin.

“Are you going to just stand there?” Her voice is hoarse, probably from the smoke. I wonder how mine must sound.

I follow her into the cabin. However hostile her behaviour towards me might be - despite the fact that she saved me, she has been torturing my wrist by pulling it endlessly, so that it might bruise later - the house looks cozy enough to rival it.

The room is filled with soft couches and pillows, an empty fireplace in the corner, and a small, round wooden table in the middle of it all. I examine the walls. They are bare, made from logs that have the width of my waist. There is no way she built something like this on her own. There is a door on the opposite side of the room, leading to her bedroom most likely.

I hear a small cough coming from below. The kid! How could I have forgotten about him! I look down. I am still instictively holding him tight to my chest. He is covered in grime, as I am, but otherwise looks fine. I place him on the table, and start looking him over for any injuries.

I hear the door opening again behind me. She - our savior, for I have been given no name to adress her by - seems to be leaving.

“Where are you going?” I ask, turning around.

“Stay here. There should be food in the cabinets in the kitchen, across the hallway” she points to the wall I noticed earlier. “Do not, under any circumstances, leave while I’m gone.” And with that, she disappears outside, closing the door behind her.

The next few hours definitely do not pass quickly, and since the kid has fallen asleep from exhaustion, I decide to explore around the cabin a bit. I start walking towards the hallway. Indeed, as she told me, there is a small kitchen, or more like a store room with a hearth in the middle of it, beside a tiny bedroom. There are cabinets all around, filled with all sorts of things. Some might think me nosy for searching around, but you can tell mucha bout a person from what they keep in their storage. There is some of, well, everything. Food, specifically oats, fruits, vegetables, nuts. Meat, edible-looking, but I don’t know from what. Cooking utensils, medical supplies of all sorts. A pile of logs, chopped for the fire most likely, in the corner. A closet, filled with clothes for all kinds of weather. There is even a small barrel with wine.

I go over to the last cabinet. My eyes widen as I stare to the huge collection of weapons. From lightsabers to guns to knives, there is nothing less than a small scale armoury. She is as dangerous as one can be. Yet she has not killed us yet, and I doubt she will. She would’ve done so already.

I take an apple and bite down on it. It tastes better than any I had ever tasted back in Haidoral. I take one more apple with me and head back to the living room. The boy is awake by now, unable to relax. I chop the apple with one of the knives I found in her storage and give it to him slowly. He chews on it, smiling. It is a miracle he hadn’t started crying again, as if he had sensed my distress during our escape. He would live a happy life here.

I would not.

That is when I realize that there is no us anymore. His journey has to stop here, for the good of both of us. This is no life for me, isolated in the woods. No, I need the action, the adrenaline. It keeps me alive. And I still have to find my parents. I must be wanted in the whole system by now, and I need to explain to them. They are not ones to forgive without reason.

I head to the storage once again. I take some bags made from a strange fabric, but they look steady enough and soft to the skin so I can carry them. I feel them up with everything I can find that won’t weigh me down too much. I end up with two bags, one filled with fruits of any kind I can find, and the other with bread and nuts. I have decided against taking meat, since cooking it would make smoke, which is traceable. I strap them on my backpack, which I fill with bottles of water. After further searching, I discover six pouches with coins. I take one of them. Credits would have been better, but I must work with what I have. I feel sorry for stealing, but it is necessary. It’s not like I will see her again. I strap the pouch to my belt. Lastly, I take a jacket. By the time I am finished, night has fallen outside.

I get out of the storage to see the kid moving around. His eyes light up as soon as he sees me, and he crawls towards where I’m standing. I can’t leave him like this, but I don’t know when she will return.

I end up walking all around the cabin until he falls asleep. I tuck himin her bed carefully. I don’t think she’ll mind. I try to get out as quietly as I can, but still the floor creaks under my feet. Thankfully, he doesn’t wake.

I close the door and head to the gate. I look behind me one more time before I run away.

[conflictandscotchblog]

The Sawzall Serial Killer

Motivation does not strike often, so when it does I need to embrace it by any means necessary.

I live in a Townhouse in New Jersey, and for years I struggled with the idea whether or not to move to Pennsylvania. A great deal of my family lives in Pennsylvania.

Finally, decided I was going to stay put, but wanted to downsize and remove the immense amount of clutter that needlessly fills my house.

I started this a few years ago in my basement (don’t all house cleaning adventures start in the basement?) when I thought I would move.

First step, Walmart, and buy a shit load (actual unit of measurement) of plastic containers with lids. Half went upstairs to my kids’ old room for a future project, and the rest down to the basement.

You need to know this going in, I have a hard time throwing stuff away. Always, in the back of my mind I think, I might need this someday, even though I hadn’t seen or used that object in years.

This time would be different, and regular kitchen garbage bags were not going to be sufficient. Went back to Walmart and bought Contractor Bags (42 gallon).

Containers and bags at the ready I started to clean up. Down in the basement, what do you think I find once I removed the top layer of clutter?

That’s right, the box of Contractor Bags (42 gallon) I bought last time I started this project.

Packed some containers, dragged full contractor bags out to the dumpster, and got some small ticket items out of the way.

However, what I really needed to do, was get rid of some big ticket items (furniture) from my house, and that was going to involve some creative motivation.

Enter the Sawzall.

A Sawzall is a hand held tool that cuts through just about everything.

I was about to put that claim to the test.

First up, a couch.

Cutting up a couch with a Sawzall is like that old joke, ‘how do you eat an elephant?’

The answer, ‘one bite at a time’.

Cut into the arm of the couch, and once below the fabric was shocked to find stuffing and cardboard.

Cardboard?

I was surprised by that, and just kept cutting. Piece by piece I peeled off another section of couch, and walked it out to the dumpster.

A surprise benefit of this routine, back and forth from the dumpster, got my steps in and walked miles without ever leaving my property.

Once the couch was ‘disappeared’, a dresser from my kids old room was my next victim.

Up the stairs I went, weapon in hand.

Took the drawers out first, walked each of them to the dumpster, then dragged the dresser to the middle of the room.

Much like a barber, I started by taking a little off the top. Then a lot off the top, and then sides, the bottom, until there was nothing left to carry to the dumpster.

Side note, just for fun, I’d pack the longer pieces into a contractor bag, wrap them with duct tape, and sneak them out, like body parts, at night. That should keep my neighbors on their toes.

Next, a smaller dresser, same routine: cut, carry, dispose.

There were two old bookcases in my basement.

Correction, I have one old bookcase in my basement.

Ironically, the last, and most difficult, was disposing of a La-Z-Boy recliner that was a gift from an old girlfriend.

In hindsight, was she trying to tell me something?

Cutting up a La-Z-Boy is harder then cutting up wooden furniture, or even a couch stuffed with foam and cardboard. There is a lot of metal in the body of that chair.

Even when I broke it down, and removed every non-metal piece of the recliner, I was still stuck with a boulder-size chunk that was too heavy to lug to the dumpster.

Instead, I dragged it out my back door and it now lives comfortably under my outside deck.

The Sawzall is really an amazing tool, and with a new blade, you feel like you can make anything disappear.

Excuse me, but I have to go now, there is a bookcase in my basement that gives me the side-eye whenever I walk down the stairs.

[loveinbrutality]

Oh side <3

💝 I'm feeding your arm through a meat grinder, and holding your face with my other hand. I'm not going to feed you yourself. When I'm done with your arm the rest of you will go into the freezer for safe keeping, until I get hungry again.

Unless… maybe if you beg me very sweetly I'll change my mind. Get in your platitudes when you can. I can spare you some of your own blood, as a treat.

You'll be in my freezer for the nights when I can't feed myself. You'll feed me instead. <3

But hey....... how will you be cutting me up? <3

I had to sleep on this one before answering but, oh, it wasn’t so bad, falling asleep thinking about something like this. Of course I’d put up a fight, because, fuck, it hurts. Squirming, writhing, almost trying to break free. Almost. But you’d keep me there. Sweet, tender touches a perfect contrast to the pain. And I’d beg. Oh, how I would beg. Whining, screaming, moaning. Pushing my throat until I have nothing left to give, voice cracking into nothing but desperate attempts for air and rest….. <3

I’ll feed you. Id want nothing more than to feed you <3

💝 I guess I would need bigger knives. Nothing I have is really meant to cut like that, especially not through something as big as the body. But maybe there’s an appeal to that. Working my way through your flesh with one of the smaller ones, having to come back for another cut two or three or four or five times to really take off any chunks.

I think I’d start with one of your arms, stripping off bits of meat and skin from your hand, working my up, moving to your wrist and arm, each piece I take off carefully laid out next to the last. I’d take my time. There’s no need to rush. Neither of us have anywhere to be, not that there’s anywhere you can go, what with a body in that state. Id stop at the shoulder, and give the same treatment to your legs. Slow, methodical, precise, intentional. And then again, I’d stop. Right at you hips. Never digging into the flesh of your stomach or chest or neck. I can’t let you have too much fun, after all.

And the rest of your body, well I think that would make a fine addition to my freezer, until I can find a more creative use for it.