#Standard Height Van

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

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[thethirdromana]

Van Helsing's insistence on Manly Men Blood is objectively hilarious. But he is right that they shouldn't be taking a transfusion from the maids.

One, because it might not be safe for their health. The NHS only lets women under 20 who are under 5' 6" donate blood if they're calculated to have sufficient volume of blood. That's the height of the average man in the 1890s. Chances are, 1890s maids - typically young, working-class women who did physically hard work - would not safely be able to give even a standard blood donation, let alone the volume needed for the transfusion.

And two, because it's too much to ask of low-paid employees. It's reasonable to ask the suitors to risk their health for the sake of the woman they love. It's not so reasonable to ask the maids to risk their health for the sake of their employer.

[female-woman-wiffman-lass]

Though in think tank:

It's just the two of us (three actually, its a tricycle now)

harringroveson, metalsandwhich

just the two of them wanting the same guy and finding each other

while said guy is trying to be filling. they're having the feels and steve is horny. he's fine though. I'll decide if I can keep this going. they will fuck nasty. in like, the next parts.

Billy Hargrove and Eddie Munson are hooking up. They've got a good thing going on.

They're into each other, they have stuff in common, be it music, the fashion, their preferences. They're fast and quick. Furious and sharp, all teeth when they're together. Get a thrill and kind of comfort with how consistent and similar they could be. They bounce off and work each other to heights. It feels like it's only the two of them, like steel sharpening steel. In this small hick town.

Billy's always felt a lot, even more now he's stuck here. Always ran hot now he's stuck in a chilly, dreary town, used to feel like he could breathe slow and easy out there but not when he's stuck here. And with Eddie. Well, Eddie always wanted more, knows he's made for more. He's flagging half-heartedly in a small town, and now Billy has to tuck himself in. They both always feel bigger on the inside. No one is like them. Not in the way they know.

No one else feels jagged or rough. Neither Eddie nor Billy know anyone who can stop the itch, the aches in their jaw, the tightness.

Enter Steve Harrington. Just, not really.

Now, Steve seemed exactly nothing like either of them. Yes, he's masculine. A man. But he's not.. like them. Not dark or sharp, probably not what either of them would experience, probably doesn't feel like a whirlwind in his body, doesn't scratch. But it doesn't stop either of them from ogling. Shooting the shit with each other, letting out comments and thoughts on guys the've seen. And even if Harrington was open, or experimenting, or anything that would lead preppy jocks astray, he probably wouldn't be any good. Wouldn't be fun, no matter how pretty. No matter how soft.

Billy and Eddie's standards on the anyone in Hawkins, any man they might think of in the sense they'd think of each other. None for now, just them. Clocked each other so fast and collided with each other like a car crash. But both can agree, yeah. Steve's hot.

Billy's been knowing about it, having been hanging out with Steve. Knowing who he is, mostly on the court. Gets a kind of satisfaction being able to push this boy around.

And Eddie, who's there with his comments as they talk, will also have assumptions. He's known the guy longer. (If he ever really knew him. What more do you need when everyone else knows some.)

"Bill, he's just the usual, man." He takes a drag out of his cigarette, leaning on the side of his van. "Harrington. He's just a dude. I mean we're in Hawkins. Pretty boys like him got to be repressed. One way or another."

He scoffs, turning his head to him, eyebrows raised and hands waving vaguely in front of him, "have you seen him with Tommy? Before you came around those two were—" he puts up a tight fist and shakes it, like it would mean something. "Y'know? Tommy boy's been trailing after him since eighth grade."

Billy let's out a sharp laugh, stealing Eddie's cigarette, "calling me a homewrecker, Munson?"

"Is it homewrecking when you 'wreck' both parties? You ensnare Tommy away from the King and then you come round to have a chat with Harrington in the showers?" He let's Billy have the cigarette, crossing his arms as he leans in closer, "which, what was that about?"

(Eddie's been in this town, longer than the fresh meat Billy was supposed to be. Has seen the King parading around, stuck in his own little world. Head up in the clouds and not bothering to look down and check if his feet were even touching the ground. Til '83 that is.

It was weird. After Nancy Wheeler, sometime in November with all of them being gone for a while after two people go missing —one was Byers' little brother he remembers, he wasn't sure who the other one was, a girl?—only to come back with Wheeler on Jonathan Byers side of all places. Sweet and looking at each other like they've found someone who understands. Found someone who knows life outside. As if they knew there'd be more out there.

And Steve. Steve looked settled. Looked normal and still moving even when he looked at either of them, the couple. Like he knows he's small in this stupid town but doesn't feel tight in his own skin. That even though he hasn't found anyone like that, and even lost something he's still fine. That he's seen more and knows better even when he stood still. He's found out about the same things Byers and Wheeler had. Went through the motions. Was just waiting for a pin drop to be able to live. It fascinated, Eddie. He envied it. He scoffs in his mind, what would Steve Harrington know?

Will he ever get to know? The boy and the why?)

Billy rolls his eyes, taking one last drag from his cigarette before putting it out, dropping it on the concrete for hi to stomp, "fucking nothing, Edward."

Not nothing. He heard Eddie and his 'normal dude' rant. But he can't fool Billy. He knows the guy saw the same thing in Harrington he did. He was different and radiant in this stupid town while also fitting in perfectly. He was fucking lame and didn't know a single thing. But. He also knew some things. Makes it seem like the things he knows were life altering

Harrington was an enigma. A person with thoughts and feelings and in some kind of state. He was your average fucking prep. Image obsessed, vain, and so impossibly normal. And a flea who only knows the jar can't jump over the cap. But Steve. It's like he doesn't care. He doesn't know why he only knows this side of The King's rebrand. How he only knows one side to the story. How he knows Tommy and his weird obsession with Steve and how he left, and turned fucking bitch. Acted like he was now bottom of the barrel. But the King (although Billy has a feeling he isn't one anymore) is fine. Acted like dropping his nuclear friend group and demographic was nothing. Which in the grand scheme of things, maybe it wasn't. But it's supposed to be something, to boys like Steve Harrington. He doesn't know why he cares.

"Ouuh, fucking nothing, Edward, blah blah. Also, don't call me that." He huffs. "You're not the only one thirsting, William. Everyone wants, envies, covets at a piece of Steve Harrington. But again, he's just a dude. Hell, I had the hots for him too. Besides," he knocks shoulders with Hargrove, finger going up to flick at his piercing then to loop around a blonde curl.

"Ya got me right now."

Billy looks at him with considering gaze, before smirking. He straightens up off the van, "you wish, freak." He goes round to the back of the van, opening it up, before crawling in.

Eddie grins, scampering off after him. He pushes the both of them obssesed with Steve Harrington bit away from his mind. He's hanging with Billy.

Steve frowns a bit as he sees both men hop into the back of Munson's van. He was just passing by the parking lot. He sighs, scratching his head. He needs to go to another fucking bar. His nightmares are acting up again. Who knew the eerie light of the pool and his own house lights would make him twitch? What a life. He's okay though, pretty sure.

He smiles as he hops in the car. A night in Indy will fix him up. Surely. It always does. (And although Nancy –and Jonathan suprisingly– were worried, he assures them both as sweetly as he could that it was definitely not alcoholism. It's either more or less better than they expected. But he's glad his new friends slash two wheels he third wheels slash co-monster fighters were worried.)

As he drives off, he takes a glance at the rear view mirror, before shaking his head. Why would they hook up out in the open, in that back of the guy's van in a parking lot? Sure they could be hotboxing or some shit and smoking the weed in that dweeb Munson's lunchbox but Steve doubts that. With how hot the both of then are and how intensely they were looking at each other they were for sure fucking. He thought at least Hargrove would know better.

"Shame, shame," he shrugs, even though no one can see him, his expression set in 'it is what it is.' He wonders what he should wear and what he should order. He licks his lips and hums happily. He gets to feel alive for the weekend.

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

june 7, 2016 london, england orion

Somehow, my roommates chose not to join me in London to see 5SOS again. We’d had so much fun at the Madrid show, but after Calum extended the invite to visit the band again, they all declined the offer. I didn’t like the thought of not seeing Cal at least once or twice more, so I booked my flight as soon as I could, choosing the cheapest option possible. It meant spending the night on the floor at the airport so I could catch the earliest flight today and still take the metro before it shut down at 2, but that also meant I landed pretty early on in the day.

Calum and I will have the whole day together. Well, the whole day aside from their soundcheck and other band obligations. I’ll be here with them tomorrow, too, but Calum said they’d have press for most of the day, so I’ll get to explore alone, and then after tomorrow’s show I’m tagging along to Brighton before flying back to Spain.

He’d offered to send a car to pick me up at the airport, but I declined. He tried to fight back and insist, but I felt like it was incredibly unnecessary. I can handle myself. So, once I made my way through customs, I followed the signs to the underground station and hopped on the next train that goes toward the direction of the hotel Calum said they’re staying at.

While I ride the tube, I text him.

To: calum 5sos

hi! on my way to you now. probably like 20 min!

I told him that I would be here early, so I’m hoping he’s awake.

The train is packed with commuters, so I feel extra cautious of being pickpocketed. My valuables are in my crossbody that I have in front of me, but my backpack is stuffed with clothes and makeup. I grip my phone as tightly as I can.

Calum texts me back quickly.

From: calum 5sos

hi pretty! I’m ready to go whenever you get here. can’t wait to see ya!

Suddenly I feel nervous to see him. I did my makeup on the plane and used a ton of overpriced dry shampoo I’d bought at the airport, but now I’m wondering if I look pretty enough to be hanging out with an internationally famous musician.

It’s also funny because it’s only been a few days since I last saw him, and yet, here I am, excited to see him. I’m borderline missing him, which feels wild considering I’ve only known him for about a week. I do my best to push away those kinds of feelings — this is just fun. We’re just having fun together. I’ll probably see him this trip, maybe try to see him one other time, and that’ll probably be it. I’m sure he’s got other girls who’d like to see him, and they’re only in Europe for a month and a half or so.

The rest of the ride to my final station seems to creep by slowly, my nerves just building while I stand awkwardly on the train, clutching my phone and the metal pole that’s keeping me steady.

When we get to the station, I quickly exit the train with an onslaught of other passengers. Most of them are dressed in business clothes, on their way to work. I’m wearing jean shorts and a cropped t-shirt with a linen button down on top, making me feel like I stand out. I’m casual, and I feel quite American in my outfit. My San Diego Padres baseball hat really adds to my American-ness, and I suddenly feel like I should’ve possibly rethought my outfit choice.

My hands are sweaty as I ride the escalator up to the exit. I route my way to Calum’s hotel, trying to at least know which direction to start walking in when I get to the street. Those efforts prove to be unnecessary because when I get to the street, I see Calum waiting for me.

He’s wearing his standard black pants and a pair of black Vans with a black and white striped t-shirt. He’s somewhat disguised with a pair of Raybans covering his eyes, but his height makes the grinning boy stick out to me as soon as I step off the escalator. He raises his hand in a wave when he sees me, instantly starting to walk towards me.

“Orion!” He calls out. As soon as he’s a few steps from me, Calum opens his arms wide so he can wrap me into a tight hug.

I’m somewhat stunned, truthfully, but try to hide it. I hug him back instantly, feeling safer in his grasp. He doesn’t hold onto me for too long, but I’m not sure if it’s because I step back after a few seconds in his arms or if he lets me go.

“No security?” I ask when there’s a foot or so of space between us. I look around, trying to see if there’s a guard hiding a few people away or something, but still don’t see anyone.

Calum shakes his head and smiles. “Nah, convinced Matt to let us free roam today. A trial run.”

I nod. “Got it, I’m on my best behavior.”

He laughs, throwing an arm over my shoulders. “Let’s go drop off your bag at the hotel, and we can get breakfast?” He asks as if it’s a question, even though it’s technically a sentence. “If you’re hungry, I mean.”

“I’m hungry,” I tell him. I feel his shoulders relax. “And I love breakfast.”

“I know you do,” Calum says.

He knows I love breakfast? Had I told him that? Maybe when I was drunk I mentioned it. I do tend to rant about things when I’m drunk.

“Sorry, didn’t mean that to sound creepy,” he then blurts. “I looked at like… your entire Instagram account like a creep, so maybe it should’ve sounded creepy. Sorry, now I’m showing you all my cards, I just—”

I cut him off with laughter. I’m flattered that he had scrolled through my feed. I was shocked to get the follow request, but I accepted it, assuming he’d just follow me and not ever interact with me. I figured it was a nicety. He probably follows every girl he hooks up with as some weird way to document them.

“It’s fine, I looked through yours too.” I did. I saw mostly what I expected. A bunch of stage photos, pictures with his bandmates, a few pictures with his family mixed in. I felt like I got a glimspe into who he is, beyond what I’d learnt during our day and a half together in Madrid.

“I’m flattered,” he says, chuckling.

“I mean it’s not every day I meet someone who knows Harry Styles,” I tell him. “Naturally I needed to see how close of friends you guys are.”

Calum scoffs. He turns me suddenly, onto a new street. I don’t question it and just try to keep up with his long legged pace. “I thought you weren’t a 1D fan?”

I laugh, but it comes out more as a giggle, which for some reason feels embarrassing. “I’m not, but you can’t deny that the man is dreamy.”

Calum laughs, but I’m not sure if it’s at my comment or at my awkward giggle. “I get it, you’re just pretending to like me so you can meet him.”

I’m so wrapped up in my conversation with Calum that I don’t even realize that we’re walking into an alley behind a hotel now. The only reason I realize it is because I can hear the echoes of a crowd from the other side of the building, chanting “5SOS” — it’s 7 in the morning, which is far too early for that in my opinion.

The security guard, Gus is his name, is the same one who had been in Madrid. He smiles when he sees me, or maybe when he sees Calum, or maybe it’s the combination of us. Either way, he waves his hand hello.

“Hi, Gus!” I call, offering him a smile.

“Good morning, Orion.” He remembers my name?

I look at Calum with a surprised look and find him already smiling at me. God, I like him. I smile back and mumble a quiet thank you when he opens the door to the hotel for me. We walk to the service elevator, Cal leading the way, and he presses the button for the seventh floor.

“For the record, I don’t need to meet Harry Styles. I’ve already met the coolest bassist that’s come out of Australia this decade.”

Calum rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. “Just this decade?”

I throw my head back with a laugh. “I don’t know enough about bassists, and especially not Australian ones, so I didn’t want to oversell you.”

His annoyance evaporates and then he’s giggling with me. The doors open to the floor, Cal holding his arm out so they don’t close on me, and then he grabs onto my hand to pull me to his room. Once the door is unlocked, he opens it for me and lets me walk in ahead of him.

“I’m probably the coolest bassist to come out of Aus in the past century,” he announces, flicking the lights on. “And the hottest.”

I purse my lips. I’d agree, but I can’t inflate his ego. He’s already here, claiming to be the hottest and coolest bassist of the century. “You can keep telling yourself that, bud.” I’m also trying to avoid appearing completely smitten with him, even though I am.

He laughs again. “See, I like how you knock me down.”

I drop my backpack onto the armchair in the corner of the room, next to his open suitcase, messily piled with clothes and a few packs of cigarettes and then I hold my hand out to him. “I’ll pull you back up, too.”

“My dream girl.”

I do my best to ignore the sudden flutter in my chest, settling on smiling cheesily at him.

It’s just a fling, I tell myself. I need to keep my expectations low.

“You said there’d be breakfast?” I ask.

Calum’s expression turns unreadable, but his eyes are still kind and sparkling, so I don’t worry about it. “With me, there will always be breakfast.”

My dream boy, I think.

–

After a few hours of roaming London with Calum, I’ve fallen in love with the city. Despite it being a massive city, something about it all feels quaint… in a dirty, gloomy, stinky kind of way. My only request is that we go on the Eye, which he manages to get us on for free by taking a selfie with the girl at the ticket counter.

He and I also take a selfie with the view at the top. It’s our first picture together, and it might end up being the only photo of us together. I decide it’s a sweet memento to hold onto of this brief study abroad adventure. I haven’t told my moms yet that I’ve decided to take a weekend trip to London to visit a boy, but maybe someday I’ll show them this photo and they can understand why I made the choice to get on a plane to see his show.

We’re making our way to the venue now, the O2. He’s trying to be chill about it, but I can tell Calum is both stoked and incredibly nervous. I think it’s their first time headlining, but I’m not completely sure, and Cal seems too out of it to answer if I did ask. We’re on a train — I have no idea how he managed to convince Matt that he can take a train to the venue without a security guard, but again, not going to ask. He’s drumming his hands on his thighs in a pattern nervously, looking straight ahead of him at the blurry view outside the window.

I grab his left hand in both of mine, steadying it. He stops his tapping and whispers a quiet ‘sorry’ to me. In response, I just squeeze his hand tightly.

When I look away from his face, I face forward at the blurry view too. The train stops at a station, and I look down at the people sitting in front of me, which I quickly regret. A girl is sitting directly across from us wearing a 5 Seconds of Summer t-shirt and wide, shocked eyes while she stares at us.

My eyes mirror hers then, wide and nervous. I let go of Calum’s hand quickly and stand up, moving to his other side and holding onto a metal pole instead of holding his hand. Calum looks startled when he stares up at me.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his forehead wrinkling with concern.

I nod, clearing my throat. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Just…” I sigh, trailing off. “There’s a fan, across from you,” I whisper to him as quietly as I can. I feel incredibly self-conscious now, and I don’t want Calum to be so clearly seen with me. I know he’s said — a few times now — that he doesn’t mind being seen with me, but I don’t know how true that can really be. Female fan bases are incredibly powerful and a wonderful thing, but they’re not exactly known for being welcoming or kind to the women seen with their favorite men.

His eyes flit to behind me, up to me, and back behind me. He looks back up at me again. “Just a sec.”

Calum then stands up, walking the handful of steps over to the fan. I don’t watch, but I’m sure she’s peeing her pants. “Hi, I’m Calum,” I hear him say.

I think he sits down next to her, but I’m too scared to look.

“I know,” she squeaks out.

“Do you want to take a picture?”

“If you don’t mind, I don’t want to bother you.”

“Nah, of course you’re not bothering me,” he says in his normal kind voice. “Here, want me to take it?”

They’re quiet for a moment, taking their pictures, I’m guessing.

The intercom then announces that we’ve gotten to our destination. I turn around then, both Calum and his fan standing up as well. Calum grins at me and holds out his hand for me to take. Instead of taking it, I clasp mine together and just start walking off the train. I just try to avoid the gaze of the fan and walk quickly, following the signs for the exit.

When I make it to the street, I turn around, finding Calum struggling to catch up to me. He looks confused.

“What was that?” He asks. He’s laughing slightly, but his eyebrow is still quirked.

“Sorry, I just…” I don’t know how to finish my sentence. I feel my forehead wrinkle with anxiety. I don’t know how to explain it to him.

His eyes soften and his expression returns to a slightly more neutral one. I think he’s willing to drop it, so I take my chance and run with it.

“Which way are we going? I don’t want you to be late.”

Calum nods, pulling his phone out to check the directions. “This way,” he says, and we start walking.

As we walk, I look around at the crowd around us. There is a sea of people wearing flannels, black clothes, and 5 Seconds of Summer merch. They all seem too busy with whatever they’re doing, and I don’t see any eyes on Calum, so I take advantage of our chance to camouflage him. I take my hat off and stop, stand in front of him, and put my hat on his head. I grab his sunglasses from where he has them hanging on his shirt and hold them in front of his face.

He chuckles, putting on the glasses.

“No one will ever know it’s you. You’re unrecognizable.”

“Am I allowed to hold your hand in incognito mode?”

I’ve let him hold my hand all day, and he’s kissed me in public, so I don’t know that I should really be so weird about it now. It’s just the eyes boring into me at such a close proximity. I feel watched and judged, and I haven’t even done anything wrong.

“Maybe another time,” I say quietly. I feel guilty. I want him to hold my hand, but I don’t want an army of haters to follow me around for holding a guy’s hand for a few minutes.

We walk in silence, and I’m acutely aware to the presence of Calum’s hand on the small of my back while he guides me to the unmarked side of the building where I assume Matt said to meet him. We pass a handful of security guards, which Calum takes off his sunglasses for so they can see his face. They all just nod as we walk by.

As soon as we’re out of the view of the crowds of fans, I grab Calum’s hand again.

“It just feels very… smothering,” I say while we walk. “To have all of those eyes on me for just existing in your presence.”

“I’m sorry,” Calum says. “You don’t have to do anything you want to do, and that applies to far more than just holding hands.”

I squeeze his hand gently. “I know. I just don’t want you to get any negative backlash for holding some random girl’s hand.”

Calum squeezes my hand back. “I think I can handle it.” He gives me a jokingly cocky smile.

We walk into the back door of the arena, which, as we walked around it, is absolutely massive. So many people will be here tonight, and I get to be backstage? It’s somewhat unbelievable.

As soon as we’re inside, I can hear the hoots and hollers of the rest of Calum’s band. I got to meet them for a bit back in Madrid. They’re all very nice, but very loud and rowdy. Which, to be fair, makes sense considering they’re all roughly 20 years old and famous and somewhat rich. They can kind of do whatever they want.

“Has anyone seen Calum?” I hear one of them ask from some distance away. I don’t know their voices well enough to know which one it was and I don’t know exactly where they are. I’m just following Calum’s lead.

“He’s with that girl, Orion, today, remember?” Another one says.

“Oh! Right,” the first one replies. “She’s—“

They stop talking as Calum and I enter the room, and I am glad I don’t get to know how that sentence is going to end. I don’t think I want to know.

“Orion!” The blonde one, Luke, calls out when he sees us. “You made it!”

I smile at him and he’s running over to me, wrapping me into a tight hug. “Hi, nice to see you again.” I’m still tethered to Calum with my hand in his. I’d let his hand go but he’s got a tight grip on mine.

“Pssh, no need to sound so formal,” Luke says, letting me go.

“It is nice to see you again!” I argue.

Michael and Ashton also come over to give me hugs.

“Did you guys have fun today? Cal told us all about his plans,” Ashton says, looking back and forth between Calum and me.

I nod, smiling up at Cal. “Yeah, it was great.”

“It’s a miracle you guys are back on time. Calum is known for getting lost,” Michael tells me and laughs while Calum turns slightly pink.

Luke throws an arm around Calum’s neck, yanking him towards him. “Y’know how people have ‘Find My iPhone’? We need ‘Find My Calum.’”

“Well, if he’s with me I promise to get him where he needs to be on time.”

“I knew I liked you,” Matt dryly says from across the room. It’s probably the nicest thing the man has ever said because all of the guys look awestruck from the comment.

“C’mon, let’s sit down. We’ve got some time before soundcheck.” Calum pulls me toward the black sectional in the corner of the room. He flops onto it, kicking his feet up on the coffee table littered with empty beer bottles, Red Bull cans, solo cups, and a half empty bottle of vodka.

I don’t flop onto the couch, but I do sit next to him, letting him wrap an arm around me so I’m pressed into his side. It’s nice to be this close to him.

“Do you guys want a drink? We’ve got beer here but there’s other stuff they can grab for us if you want it.” Ashton calls out to us while bending over a cooler.

“I’ll do a beer!” I yell over to him and he nods, reaching into the cooler.

“Same, thanks, Ash!”

Luke jumps over the back of the couch to join us, but he’s so lanky that he ends up knocking over some of the bottles and cups on the table with the flailing of his limbs flying through the area. What looks like mystery liquid pools on the floor, some combination of beer, vodka, Red Bull, and some mysterious blue liquid.

“Seriously, Luke?!” Ashton yells. He’s laughing, holding three bottles of Stella Artois in his hands. He gives two to Calum, who hands one to me.

“This is what happens when you let me take four shots of vodka and shotgun a Red Bull at 2 in the afternoon!”

Jesus, I think. I know they’re used to partying and Luke isn’t exactly a small person, but still. Luke is off the couch again, walking around the room. He returns with a large handful of paper towels to clean up his mess. While Luke mops up the traces of beer and Red Bull from the table and the floor, Michael and Ashton join us on the couch, still snickering about Luke’s clumsiness.

I set my beer on the table and decide to help prevent anything else of the sort from happening again, so I start stacking up the solo cups and grab as many cans and bottles as I can hold. I meet Luke at the trash can to drop them in after his soaked paper towels, and he gives me a puzzled look.

“What are you doing?” Luke asks with a chuckle.

“I just thought it would prevent future spills,” I defend myself, going back to the couch to collect the rest, but Calum followed my lead and grabbed what was left.

“It wasn’t your mess to clean, but thank you,” Luke says and he gives me a bright, genuine smile.

When we sit back on the couch, Luke manages to put his feet up on the coffee table without spilling things, and we can all relax for a minute. Calum’s arm is back around me, and I take a few sips from my beer. All of the boys, aside from Cal, are tapping around on their phones. I try to decide if I want to talk to them or just whisper to Calum, which sounds kind of awkward, so I clear my throat.

“What did you guys do today?” I ask.

They all look up at their phones and at each other, surprise written on their faces.

“Not much, really,” Ash says, shrugging. “Got lunch at a place near where we used to live, reliving the glory days.”

“You guys used to live here?” They’re from Australia and they’ve toured a lot in the last few years. When did they live in London? Calum hadn’t mentioned it at all.

“Yeah, not for too long. Before the One Direction era.” Ashton smiles, amused by my surprised expression.

They had to have been babies then but still moved all the way to London for their careers. I can’t imagine my family being OK with shipping me across the world at that age, but I guess it must just be a testament to just how special and talented the four of them are. They were born for this life. Their parents must have known it.

“Anywhere else you’ve lived besides Australia, London, and LA?” I ask. I direct the question at Calum, even though he’s not the one saying anything.

“Cal almost moved to Brazil,” Ashton answers, making Calum shoot him a glare.

I raise my eyebrows. “Brazil?”

Calum flushes pink and avoids my gaze. “Yeah, but it didn’t happen.”

“Well, we moved to London because he didn’t move to Brazil, basically,” Ashton clarifies.

“What the hell was in Brazil?” I ask through slight laughter.

“Football,” Calum replies, the moniker supposedly enough information to explain the whole thing.

“Man, you really don’t know anything about us, do you?” Michael asks. He looks incredibly amused and he’s giggling after his question.

“Oi, Mike, be nice,” Ashton scolds while whacking Michael’s head softly.

“Soccer was in Brazil?” I ask Calum, trying to understand the bigger picture.

“Yeah, I went for some training,” he says. “Was supposed to go back, but decided I’d rather be in a band with these losers instead of playing footy.”

I look around the room at the rest of them, trying to see if any of them care to clarify. He was going to move to Brazil for soccer… like, to play professionally? I go to ask another question, but then a loud group of people walk in, demanding all of our attention.

They all look vaguely familiar, probably because I’ve seen pictures of at least a few of them on Calum’s Instagram. Cal’s bandmates all stand up and greet the crowd, embracing them, making a lot of noise, but Calum stays seated right next to me.

“Do you need to go say hi to them?” I ask. When I look at him, I find he’s staring at me.

“No, I was with most of them last night,” he shrugs.

I nod, glancing quickly back over at the people. The other three boys are totally swallowed by the mass of their friends. I look back to Cal and he’s inched his face closer to mine.

“I was supposed to go pro,” he says quietly. “With soccer, I mean. My parents were pissed when I told them I wanted to do this instead.”

“I’m sure they’re happy with the decision now.”

He grins, leaning a few inches forward so he can kiss me. It’s swift and short, but it’s still as sweet as can be. “Are you always like this?”

I furrow my brow. “Like what?”

“Always making the person you’re talking to feel like the most important person in the room.”

Then it’s my turn to blush. My cheeks get hot and I look away from Calum nervously. I try to always include people and ask questions, but I know sometimes it doesn’t come off well and it seems like I’m being annoying. It’s a relief that Calum thinks positively of my conversational habits.

“I like learning about you,” I confess. “And the rest of them. You’re all fun.”

Calum nods and then kisses me again. “Learning about you might just be my new favorite thing.”

My heart soars and I have to look away. If I look into his eyes, I’ll be a goner. I’ll be totally obsessed with this guy. He’s saying and doing all of the right things to get me to like him, and I have to protect myself. This is just temporary, while they’re touring Europe.

“Who are all those people?” I ask him, looking down at my lap.

He sighs. “It’s a mix of some of our music friends from LA, a few people we knew when we lived here, uh… oh, Mike’s girlfriend, Crystal. She’s the one with purple hair. There’s a girl Luke’s dating here, too.” Calum leans closer, so his mouth is by my ear. “But none of us like her,” he whispers.

I laugh slightly, but since I don’t know the girl I don’t want to base my opinions on just what Calum has said. “Which one is she?”

Cal laughs somewhat bitterly. “Don’t worry, you’ll know.”

I look over at the group of people and try to find Crystal and this other girl. Crystal I spot easily since, like Calum had mentioned, she has purple hair. She’s tall and pretty, with a sweet smile and light eyes, talking to Michael and another couple of guys. One I recognize as one of the members of the opening act. Then I look to Luke and find a tall girl with dark hair draped over him while he talks to a few of the other people. Got it. That’s the one that’s dating him. She’s not looking at any of the people huddled with, just clinging to Luke and standing there.

When I look back to Crystal to try to get a better look at her, she’s looking at me. Michael is saying something to her, and when she notices me looking her way, she smiles and waves. I smile and wave back awkwardly. Crystal then turns to Michael, puts a hand on his arm, and says something to him quickly before she walks over to the couch, sitting a few feet away from Cal and me and still smiling.

“Hi! I’m Crystal,” she says.

“Oh, hi! I’m Orion.”

Crystal smiles. “Oh, I know. This one won’t stop blabbing on about you and that club. What was it called again?” She directs the question to Calum, who looks embarrassed by her comment.

“Space Monkey,” I say for him. “My roommate’s girlfriend is a bartender there.”

She nods. “Such a weird name. Sorry, I would’ve said hi at the Madrid show, but wasn’t sure if it would have been overwhelming.”

I look to Calum, who hadn’t mentioned that there were other guests at the Madrid show. We only hung out with the band itself and my roommates. After the show, Calum and I went back to his hotel and my roommates went out with the band. None of them really remembered much the next morning, but they did say they had a fun time.

Crystal seems to know what I’m thinking and explains everything for Calum. “We hung out in the VIP viewing area that night, and when we went out after, I did get to meet your roommates. They were all so sweet, but we were all pretty wasted, so not sure if they remember it.”

“Sorry, I should’ve mentioned you could hang in the VIP section,” Calum apologizes. “I figured you’d prefer the pit.”

I laugh nervously. “Yeah, I do prefer the pit, but just feel bad if we kept you guys out of the backstage area that evening.”

Crystal shakes her head. “No, you were totally fine! We just went out for dinner before the show.”

I just nod. I didn’t realize they all had such a large entourage.

“I’m glad we get to meet you this time,” Crystal adds, still smiling very kindly at me. “Is this your first time to London?”

Calum has his arm around me and is lightly tracing shapes into my side and I’m at ease with his presence. Crystal isn’t scary or anything, but she seems eons cooler than I’ll ever be and she’s far prettier than I am. She also just seems to have it all together. I’m trying to make a good first impression.

“It is,” I answer. “I love it. Yours?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’ve been a few times, but I love it too. Anyway, I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys, just wanted to pop over and say hi. Come find me during soundcheck if you want someone to hang out with.”

I smile at her graciously. “Thank you, I probably will.”

Crystal gets up then and walks back over to Michael, who greets her by wrapping an arm around her waist while they pick up their conversation with their friends. The whole lot of them seem to mesh together like they’ve spent a lot of time with each other. It’s just crazy because there are so many of them.

“Wait, doesn’t your sister live in London?” I ask suddenly, realizing Calum’s sister doesn’t seem to be in the crowd. I look back at him and he giggles.

“She does, but she’s in LA right now.”

I sigh with relief. Meeting all these random people is a lot, but meeting Calum’s sister would be even more intense. She’s family. She’s not someone you introduce to a girl you met at a nightclub a few days prior that you hooked up with and invited to another show.

“What’s she like?” I ask. Calum smiles at the question, a light appearing in his brown eyes.

“She’s amazing. An incredible songwriter and singer. She’s kind, and she’s like a big sister to all of us, really. She’s my best friend. I’d do anything for her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Mali-Koa, but we just call her Mali.”

I look down at his arm, the name familiar because of the tattoo there. I trace the outline of the bird. “Like your tattoo.”

He nods. “Yes, like my tattoo,” he says. “Do you have siblings?”

I grin, instantly seizing my chance to show him pictures of my brother and getting my phone out. “I have a little brother. He’s four. His name is Eridanus, but we just call him Eri. He’s the sweetest boy ever.”

I pass Calum my phone with the album of photos with Eri and me lighting up the screen. He scrolls through, stopping at the one where Eri smeared brownie batter on my face and we both were laughing uncontrollably.

“You guys are cute,” Cal comments, handing my phone back.

“Boys, stage in 5!” Matt appears out of nowhere and disrupts the entire room’s conversations.

There’s a collective groan and Calum downs most of his beer quickly before he kisses my cheek, saying he’s gotta use the bathroom and will see me after soundcheck.

“You’ll be okay back here, right? You can also come watch, but it’s usually pretty boring. Or I can give you some cash if you want to go grab a coffee nearby or something?”

“I’ll be fine,” I tell him. He gives me a grin before he runs off.

I decide to take Crystal up on her offer and make my way over to her. She lights up as I approach her, her smile widening.

“Can I hang out with you for a bit?” I ask.

“Of course,” she says. “Here, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Crystal guides me through the group like I’m a show pony. I try to remember everyone’s names but it’s a total lost cause. Everyone is pretty nice, but some are more interested in meeting me than others. I don’t blame them — I’m sure there’s a fairly consistent rotation of people coming through this group in my shoes. It might not be worth trying to really connect with girls like me.

After I’ve met everyone, she shows me where the bathroom is and where I can get food if I’m hungry. Then, we head to the side of the stage so we can watch soundcheck. She takes me to Calum’s side of the stage instead of Michael’s, saying she sees it almost every night, so missing it this once isn’t that big of a deal. He looks surprised, but pleasantly, when he notices us, waving at me. I give him a thumbs up.

The soundcheck lasts for about an hour, and they play a few songs that they didn’t play at the Madrid show. I’ve tried to study their discography over the past few days, but I haven’t been able to learn everything yet, so I don’t know which songs are which. When I get a glimpse of Crystal’s face while we watch, she looks so proud.

“How long have you guys been together?” I ask her as we walk back to the dressing room.

Crystal laughs. “We’ve been friends for a while, but officially together for about 6 months.”

“So you’re used to… all this? By now?”

She laughs again and shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s something you ever get used to.”

I’m opening my second bottle of beer when the boys come backstage again, Calum coming straight to me. Crystal winks at me when he approaches and ducks away to catch up with Michael. I spin around to face Calum.

“You don’t have to come straight to me, you know,” I tell him. He’s taking a few gulps of his own fresh beer.

“You’re my guest,” he defends. “I’m not just gonna leave you hanging.”

I roll my eyes. “I can fend for myself.”

Calum laughs quietly. “Trust me, I know you can.”

I raise an eyebrow at him and take a swig of my beer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe that you moved to a country you’ve never been to alone? You navigated two international airports alone and the transit systems? Hell, Matt likes you. That’s something.”

“It’s not that hard. You just follow signs.”

Now Calum rolls his eyes. “Let me talk you up, please.”

I bite my tongue, holding back on making a snarky comment. Instead, I do my best to smile at him somewhat sweetly. “Fine.”

He kisses me again then and when he pulls back he grabs my hand in his, pulling me away from the mass of people and out the door. Once outside, he turns us around a corner so we’re away from the bodyguards and crew. As soon as we’re out of everyone’s sight, he grabs my hips and gently pushes me against the cinder block wall with his beer bottle pressed against my side.

Calum grazes his lips against mine, hovering without making full contact. I take matters into my own hands and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him down and kiss him, but my beer bottle, slick with condensation, slips out of my hand and crashes onto the pavement, shattering.

“Shit!”

Calum falls into a fit of laughter, stepping back to assess the mess I’ve just made. “What is it with you and spilling drinks?!”

read next chapter

a/n: not that i need to justify it but flashback chapters serve as some relief for all the weight of everything going on and also i want people to LOVE orion and cal together. that's the bigger goal ofc.

[maggotknight]

posting the bio for my rt here for my own sake. very long. initial template was generously provided by the rt discord server I am in.

Name: Lilith von Valancius

Age: 31 years

Gender/Pronouns: she/her

Height: 5'1" (shorter than average due to huffing forge fumes for the first 13 years of her life)

Conviction: primary; Iconoclast, secondary; Dogmatic

Homeworld: Hive World; Scintilla, Gunmetal City

Origin: Commissar

Triumph: Apex of Briliance

Darkest Hour: Shadow of Torment

Archetype: Officer; Grand Strategist

Voidship: The Siren Song

Favorite color: Green (forest green)

Love Interest: Heinrix van Calox (romantically), Pasqal Haneumann (One sided flirting), Yrliet Lanaevyss (platonically)

Notable Characteristics: Has a cerebral-spinal augmetic at the base of her skull, traveling down to her mid back. Also has an auditory augmetic in her right ear, and a minor noosphereic port behind her left ear.

Her arms are covered in different military tattoos and electoos. Noteably, a worn in electoo of a curling copper dragon, a snarling wolf in sheep's clothing and a mechanicus liturgic tapestry. The latter was given and designed as a gift.

Is never without some form of servo skull, a Millitarum standard combat knife, and two different firearms (minimum).

Exudes tomboy swag 😎

Bio:

An unexpected child of two Asta Millitarum officers, Lilith was dropped off at a mid-hive hostel in Gunmetal City. A younger hive within the Calixis Sector capital world of Scintilla. Much of her younger years were spent avoiding gun fire, scrouning for bullets and hiding from underhive gangs scouting for fresh meat.

During her 10th year of life in the hive, Lilith attempted to pickpocket a man for spare bullets. Only to soon realize she was stealing from an Infernus ganger. The attempt when awry, and she fled into the mid-hive labyrinth of sweltering founderies. Turn after turn, only focusing on escaping her enevitable demise, Lilith slammed into a sealed set of steel doors at the end of an alleyway. Overwhelmed with dread and the realization that there was no where to run, she began pleeding and sobbing at the door. Pounding her grubby fists to the cold metal, Lilith thought, she could almost feel the door reaching out back to her. By some miracle. the heavy door unsealed itself enough for Lilith to squeak into safety. The door, unbeknownst to Lilith, lead to one of the many machine-shrines that are scattered within the volcanic hive.

Alerted to the unauthorized and unscheduled entry, Omniprophet Velt Thannek discovered the cowering Lilith. Thannek deemed the child "machine-touched", and took Lilith under his steel wings. It was explained to the young Lilith that the Omnissiah's eye "favored her", leading to machine spirits reacting to her whims. All it meant to Lilith was that she now has a consistent place to sleep, food to eat, and protection in the form of the large metal men that annoyed the forge workers.

Lilith learned much about the Cult Mechanicus and it's relations with laypeople through Thannek.

An eccentric tech-priest in his own right, the Omniprophet spent most of his spare time composing liturgies for the majesty of the Omnissiah and passing that majesty on to Lilith. Fosterining a love for art and creation within the child.

Solidifying in her the importance of the 6th and 7th Universal laws: to always seek knowledge and comprehension in all things. And to venerate The Omnissiah and The Emperor in equal measure.

In her 13th year of life, representitives of the Adeptus Ministorum took custody of Lilith and sent her to the Schola Proegnium to be educated formally and serve the Imperium as a Commissar. She recieved notably high marks in marksmaship, religious and military studies. She also recieved several watered down dirus flushings due to "willful but unacceptable outbursts." and "unwillingness to forgo vulgarities when speaking."

Upon graduation, Lilith was assigned to a Millitarum regimind on a toxic Death World at the edge of the Jericho Reach She created strong bonds with her fellow gaurdsman. Keeping moral up by playing card games, singing songs and creating combat art of everyday life in the Astra Millitarum. Many of the interpersonal skills learned from observing the Omniprophet Velt came in handy when dealing with the enevitable squabbles had between the Cult Mechanicus and Guardsmen.

A few years into her service, Lilith uncovered a consperacy involving underground experimentation on guardsmen and locals alike. Splicing Tyranid genetic material in order to make more adaptive and effective soldiers. All conducted by the planet's Generator and Colonel of her regiment. This revelation left Lilith venerated, sickened, and scouted by the Ordo Millitarum.

Never one to turn down new opportunities, she took the offer to become an Acolyte for the smaller Ordo of the Inqisition. While she missed the comradere that came with serving as the Emporer's Hammer, Lilith enjoyed the new freedom that came with being an Acolyte. She was frequently paired with Neraph Heirgamus-Theta, a former Xenarite whom was contracted to the Inquisition as a form of repentence. They grew to trust one another and spend most of what little free time they had together. Overall, she enjoyed her time spent investigating and prosecuting the threats within the Astra Millitarum. Even if it was covered in a shrowd of ignorance.

The same shrewd tenacity that got her the position within the Ordo Millitarum would be the same reason she found herself tortured, shot in the back of the head and left for, presumably, dead. She stuck her nose where it, supposedly, did not belong. Invesitaging a series of encrypted data transfers that she wasn't assigned to. A trail that was eerily similar to the conspiracy she uncovered in the Jericho Reach. The exception being, it seemed to lead directly to one of the Interrigators within her Ordo.

Heirgamus-Theta discovered Lilith before her body had become completely cold. Wether it be a defect in his mental processes from prolonged exposure to abberant machine spirits or divine intervention, Theta spared Lilith's life with an extensive neurospinal implant. Both parted ways, going into hiding in different sectors of the galaxy. This was nothing new for Theta, but it was a test of faith for Lilith. Stranded for a year on a feudal Agri-World at the edge of the Calixis Sector, the only thing keeping the disgraced Acolyte from going completely mad was in her fath of The Emporer's grace and divine plan for Humanity. Even those who shamfully fail him such as her.

She was convinced that the shuttle approaching the shed she resided in was the Inquisition. And was still suspicious once boarding the von Valancius voidship, The Siren Song. But, once again, she was never the type to deny the opportunities The Emporer graces her with.

[longgonelegends]

[id: a line of four characters. from left to right: claire de luna, a bi argentinian girl, rogue liu, a chinese queer transfem, arun joshi, an indian bi trans man, and eris torres, an afrolatina colombian transfem lesbian. claire is represented using a moon. she has shoulder length dark hair with the bangs dyed orange and wears a grey beanie, grey battle vest, orange shirt, black ripped jeans and orange converse. claire has light skin, snake bite piercings, and a standard below knee prosthetic leg, and she has an orange quad tip cane with stickers and spikes. rogue is represented with clouds. ey're a bit shorter than claire, and have a bit darker skin, though just barely. rogue has short cropped lilac hair with grown out roots. ey wear a striped purple knit sweater, baggy black cargo pants, and black vans. rogue has a septum piercing and two loose necklaces-- a star of david and a standard five pointed star. arun is represented with a blue wave. he's the shortest out of all of them, and somewhat stocky. arun has short hair and medium skin, and has their ear pierced. he wears a white shirt with a wave design on it, ripped jeans, blue converse, and a black battle jacket. eris is represented with a small branch. she's the tallest in the group. eris has thick dreads that are bleached at the tips and glasses with thin frames. she wears a green striped sundress under a dark grey hoodie with a trans pin on it, and has ankle-height docs. /id.]

^_^

[kikaitales28]

OC SHOWCASE #0

HYVANN: Gyganos soldier

Origins

=3044 A.D. the 30th Gaian Century=

Humanity was the in the middle of a great era, an era of understanding, growth, and independence thanks to the efforts and sacrifices of many across the years. From this prideful spirit came the desire to venture into the many unknowns that besieged our world and beyond, with one of the first steps being earthbound in origin, the formation of the Southern Cross government in the Antarctic continent of the South Pole; from which many scientific studies and expeditions across the icy caps and snow filled fields of the pole were carried out by insightful scholars in the field. Unfortunately...this desire would prove to be one of the first steps into a drastic shift for our race and our future...

In the Eve of Christmas, a group of scientists would uncover...a creature of great size, and with it a forgotten den...a temple, filled with never-to-be-seen markings and artifacts that belonged to an unknown civilization! Like locusts they took what they could to their homelands for further inspection outside the harsh Antarctic soil, unknowingly triggering the rise of a foreboding force of great power and vile design.

Much to the terror and dismay of the science division of the UK plus the company backing them up, "Nina", their so-called mistress of secrets..woke up from a prolonged slumber and wasted no time in bringing fire and ash to these foolish humans. Simultaneously via a special telepathic/Synaptic link...triggered a special command to the temple to rise back up in the South Pole! The Swarm known to this day as the ZARKRYGON had thus made contact with humankind and has turned the once "prosperous" city of London and most of the UK into a Hive fortress, and so was the South Pole with the rise of their Babel-ish Tower of Bioengineering.

In response, plus several alliances forged for the salvation of Earth, from which the past was brushed off, would see the kickstart of Project Talos; from which the Gyganos Soldier Battalions were formed and deployed across the globe as the ultimate force of defense and offense against the many odds stacked against them by the Zarkrygon Swarm!

The Gyganos Soldiers

[PS: Due to the highly secretive nature of their development, most if not all of the information regarding to their origin is highly secured and only accessable for high command, so unfortunately we won't be able to learn the creation, therefore birth of these Mecha Goliaths and therefore Hyvann's birth]

•Height: 100 [approximately]

•weight: 737 [approximately, without equipment]

•Occupant Accommodation: none

•Physique/build: outside of their bulky appearance seen in combat, one of the most interesting details about them is that behind their Masker Plates..hide an androgynous visage that we can't quite pin down why was this design applied in the first place [we can't deny however that it ain't pretty or awe inspiring to see].

•Equipment: [we only have data in regards to standard equipment, but suffice to say that it is known that they have more than what you see here]

•Speed: Despite their bulky and clunky appearance, the Gyganos Soldiers are fast troopers, often throwing off enemies by the fact that something that hulking shouldn't be moving "that fast" on the battlefield! [Speed: Approximately 50-70 km sprinting]

•Strength: still to be determined/ambiguous, but they definitely pack a strong punch! Stronger than any known artillery or machinery in Earth's history and of course surpassing humans by design.

Hyvann [Pronounced as Hi-van]

Hyvann comes from the 118th Battalion known as "Leviathan", as previously said their origin/birth is unknown/classified outside of the propaganda/news coverage which claims "the Gyganos Army are the culmination of Engineering and A.I., all in perfect synchrony to build the ultimate warrior against the ultimate foe." What we do know well about Hyvann is somewhat of a shared trait the Gyganos Army have with each trooper, that is a life-like personality but for Hyvann's spotlight in this file we know that they're a modest, grounded, and introspective individual, composed even in the most harshest of environments; however that doesn't mean they won't just idle and when the moment presents itself, they can dish-out a rather "snarky callback" on the scene, a juxtaposition between being humble and poised.

Unfortunately, that's where we'll end this file by wishing Hyvann and their Battalion the best of luck.

Godspeed, and may Gaia light your way...

Behind the Scenes

•The Gyganos Army/Hyvann, their aesthetic is heavily inspired/influenced by the incredible work of Mech/Art Designer Makoto Kobayashi of Dragon's Heaven & Armored Core fame, going with that blend between Biology and Machinery that in the end produce a dream-like yet functional fusion with his Mecha; all in part thanks to French Artist Moebius being an influence seen in his illustrations.

•Hyvann, if described with all honesty is essentially my take on Shaian from Dragon's Heaven, that mellow yet big presence, almost like having a "big mech papa" or "chunky bud" if that makes sense [unless you've seen the OVA].

•In-Universe Newspaper snippet: I added a shout-out to DeviantArt artist & good buddy of mine, Feyzer for being a great dude in helping me out whenever I advance on my Original Works; he came up with the nickname "Nina" for this <X)

Link to his page if you want to check him out

[PS: I will make a post exclusively focused on the Zarkrygon and "what we know about them so far"]

I'm open for honest feedback and your thoughts on the comments below ^u^ 👇

[orbitalpirate]

I'm in need of both janchard and cheering up so I was wondering if you had any headcannons you would be willing to share?

Hi anon! Thank you for asking and for coming to me because LET ME TELL YOU

- they can never EVER agree on where to eat, richard has high standards and finds fast food ridiculous, and Jan is a safe food king who pretty much gets chicken tenders everywhere he goes. They eat home cooked meals often and have like one or two places that they both actually like.

- Jan and Richard have like surprisingly similar taste in movies because Richard likes pretentious art house stuff because he's French and likes to view cinema as an art form and Jan likes pretentious art house stuff because he finds it fascinating and one time he watched a film that was a circle moving for 30 minutes and was like now this is a movie (can not stress this enough this is a real film I love)

- Richard has no boundaries at all, touches all of his teammates and friends like an octopus, his hugs are legendary, Jan is not a hugger, except of course Richard, Richard can hug him

- Thierry Van Damme will get texts at 3 am from Jan asking for translations of Richard and has started sending him the link to Google translate back

- Jan and Richard are pretty ambiguous about labels because they are both pretty much attracted to people indiscriminately

- they work out together but separately, like they always are at the gym at the same time but they do their own thing, Richard listening to David Bowie and Vampire Weekend and Jan listening to lost media podcasts

-Richard loves how tall Jan is, he likes the differences in their hand sizes and how big Jan's clothes are on him. Jan makes fun of Richard's height relentlessly (but lovingly)

Okay that's enough for now I could do this for hours lmao

[byneddiedingo]

Dorothy Mackaill in Safe in Hell (William A. Wellman, 1931)

Cast: Dorothy Mackaill, Donald Cook, Ralf Harolde, Morgan Wallace, John Wray, Ivan Simpson, Victor Varconi, Nina Mae McKinney, Charles Middleton, Clarence Muse, Gustav von Seyffertitz, Noble Johnson, Cecil Cunningham, George F. Marion. Screenplay: Joseph Jackson, Maude Fulton, based on a play by Houston Branch. Cinematography: Sidney Hickox. Art direction: Jack Okey. Film editing: Owen Marks. 

Seamy and salacious, Safe in Hell is sometimes cited as an example of what finally scared Hollywood into accepting the Production Code, except that you could hardly find a more conventionally moral fable than this tale of a call girl who gives up her sinful ways when her sailor comes back from sea and proposes marriage. Unfortunately, the man who done her wrong intervenes and Gilda (Dorothy Mackaill) is forced to flee to a Caribbean island populated mostly by men of the wrong sort. Still, she manages to hold on to her renewed virtue and rise to self-sacrificing heights at the end. Mackaill is terrific in the role, making me wonder why she's not well-known today. It's probably because most of her work was done in silent films and she was turning 30 when sound came in, putting her at a disadvantage against younger actresses like Bette Davis and Barbara Stanwyck when it came to landing lead roles. Director William A. Wellman had a steady hand with this kind of tough-edged melodrama, introducing touches of comedy like the crowd of lecherous barflies who live in the hotel Gilda moves into while waiting the return of Carl (Donald Cook), her sailor. When she moves into her room on the balcony at the top of the stairs, they turn around their chairs to face it, eager for whatever action may occur. They're not disappointed: Piet Van Saal (Ralf Harolde), the man she thought she killed, forcing her to flee to the island, turns up alive, and the island's lawman, its "jailer and executioner" in his words, the unsavory Mr. Bruno (Morgan Wallace), also takes an interest in her. It's a middling movie, mostly of historical interest, particularly in the appearance of two important Black actors, Clarence Muse and Nina Mae McKinney, in roles that don't call for them to kowtow too much to the whites or speak the standard dialect concocted for Black people in the movies. McKinney, best known today for her performance as Chick in King Vidor's Hallelujah (1929). gets to introduce the song "When It's Sleepy Time Down South," which became a jazz standard when Louis Armstrong popularized it. Muse, who plays a hotel porter, was one of its composers, along with Leon René and Otis René. 

[sluttysnails334]

My South Park high school appearances and style headcanons Pt. 1!

Stan

• has blue eyes

• hair is wavy and he’ll dye it darker or blond depending on his mood, but he doesn’t do anything else to it so it just appears unmanaged

• shorter like his dad, maybe around 5”9/10

• he gets light freckles on his face in the summer, but then breaks out in the fall. I think since he lives in Colorado he’s really pale, but I think if he lived in a warmer place he be tan.

• naturally in shape even though he doesn’t work out consistently

• ears are pierced ( by Kenny )

• dresses between basic & edgy, wears flannels with band tees and ripped jeans & Chuck Taylors lot. In the winter he’ll wear doc martens

Kyle

• greenish brown, hazel eyes

• tall as fuck, like 6”2 6”3ish

• lanky, like some muscle but not much, its giving noodle

• hair is very curly, but he doesn’t know what to do with it, so it’s frizzy all the time

• has naturally straight teeth

• hooked nose

• bad acne

• needs glasses, but only wears them around ppl he’s comfortable with, hardcore contact person

• very preppy bc his mom would freak if dressed any other way, so standard denim jeans, collared shirts, sweaters vest, loafers, kinda dresses like a vineyard vines boy back from 2014

Cartman

• he never really loses weight

• blue eyes

• also bad acne

• has peach fuzz

• short very short 5”6

• thin brown hair

• he wears clothes that he doesn’t wash, with shirts that are so worn out you can’t even read what was written on them, with shoes that are off brand, but he wants you to believe they are branded so he prints out fake labels

Kenny

• has really good blond hair, the best of the group

• has a gap in his teeth

• has piercings, he gave himself! mainly on his face & ears

• freckles

• brown eyes, & lazy eye

• has a small nose

• tall & skinny around 6”1, but wears oversized clothes so you’d never know, actually really fashionable, king of layering and doesn’t fuck with gender specific clothing. He’ll wear a dress or a skirt and won’t give two shits about it. Gets all his clothes from thrift stores, but has been wearing the same pair of shoes for years

Craig

• dark brown hair that he actually takes care of

• clear skin

• also 6”3 maybe even 6”4 but in excellent shape, due to being a huge gym rat

• occasionally has his nails painted but only black or dark blue ( tweek does it )

• had braces for FOUR years, it was bad y’all

• very vainy arms

• green eyes

• has his right ear cartilage pierced, and silly stick & pokes all over his arms, he eventually will get tattoos and possibly more ear piercings but never on his face bc Tweek told him not too

• classic middle american teenage boy clothes like skinny jeans or joggers, vans, graphic tees, hoodies, beanies, big Nike guy, sometimes he’ll “dress up” which will consisted on a blazer and some nice slacks, he wants dress more rugged but doesn’t put effort into shopping

Tweek

• blue eyes very blue

• actually has curly hair but is unaware so he just brushes his curls out and the humidity causes it to be fly away and frizzy

• freckles freckles freckles freckles

• average height, 6”0 even

• in shape due to gym dates with crog but wears like clothes that would make you think he isn’t

• long eyelashes

• he wears light make up sometimes like blush or concealer, Bebe said it would bring out his features

• nails are painted, paints Craigs so they match

• I feel like on a day to day he will dress dark academica, sweaters, button downs, collard shirts, khakis, big khaki guy, but when he dresses up, it’s like Kurt from Glee, lol hippo broach moment if you will

anyways I did this bc I can’t draw lol but it was fun

[lady-inkyrius]

Mapping a world other than Earth

So a while back I made this world map for a worldbuilding project that never really went anywhere beyond this.

I wanted to find a good projection for this map, so I originally made it in equirectangular, because G.Projector takes it as input and the distortions are relatively easy to work out compared to other projections (Everything is the right height, and just gets wider near the poles, the main hard thing was having to make a polar island basically blind to what it was going to end up like.)

If you want to see the actual continent shapes the easiest way is probably the orthographic projection (What things would look like from space, but if you were technically infinitely far away, i.e. the projection lines are parallel), the south hemisphere is a video to get the entire thing in.:

A new layout of continent shapes gives some really interesting opportunities for which projections work well and which don't because you lose some of the familiarity for distortions with a map of Earth, for example I dislike equatorial aspect cylindrical and pseudocylindrical projections on this map because it feels like it distorts the poles in a way that seems wrong to me. Like we're all used to seeing Antarctica big but I don't really want to see that small island stretched across the north pole line.

This is going to be quite long so I'll put a cut here.

Projections that don't really work

In general I don't think flat-pole pseudocylindrical projections that are common for world maps of Earth really work for this planet. Here's the Robinson (A very common projection) and the Kavrayskiy VII (My personal favourite general-purpose projection):

I think the problem is mainly because there's more coastline outside of 75°N/S here. Antarctica is big so most of it's coastline is relatively far from the pole, and most of the coast of Russia and Canada is further from the pole than the coast of the southern continent here.

For reference here's the Mercator projection cropped to 85°N/S like most of the ones of Earth are:

Like while the Mercator makes Antarctica very big with Earth, it doesn't actually cut off any coastline. In general I just think common map projections for Earth distort the northern continent or the southernmost peninsula on the left of the southern continent.

If you really need a projection centred on the equator, you can sort of get away with the point-pole projections that have "lobes", like the Van der Grinten IV, additionally you can shift the centre to 34.2°W without cutting through any land, which I think reduces angular distortion of the problematic bits somewhat, though results in an asymmetrical graticule.

At the time I originally made it, my favourite way of presenting it was an Equirectangular projection, centred on 45°S. This keeps the land away from the high distortion areas, there's basically no land within 25° of the "poles" of this map, and if you really want to have no land being interrupted you can offset it horizontally like the second image to put the north polar island back together.

Recently I've found a bunch of other projections that look good for it, most of them oblique. Originally I was only using G.Projector which is great but only has a few projections that allow for oblique aspects, but recently I've discovered Map Designer Raster which is much freer in that regard, so I realised that this aspect looks pretty good with the Mercator projection (cropped to the golden ratio):

For comparison here's a Cylindrical Equal-Area version (standard parallels at 30°), they're mostly pretty similar except for the bits closest to the top and bottom:

In general these two are probably both more useful than the Equirectangular what with one being conformal and the other being equal-area, though aesthetically the equirectangular is a good compromise.

I also wanted to make one that showed the northern continent well and realised that despite cutting the southern continent in half an equatorial aspect of the Stereographic projection works pretty well. The centre of that continent would probably be relatively sparsely populated (most of it would probably be pretty dry, so cold or hot desert depending on latitude):

(Of course if you want to only display the northern continent, a polar azimuthal projection would work fine.)

There's another Stereographic aspect that I've found works really well to show the whole globe without interrupting any land (centred on 15°E 30°S):

This is personally my favourite projection for this planet.

There are a couple of other things you can do with this aspect, you can rotate the hemispheres by 45°, or can also use the same aspect for the oblique cylindrical projections, which results in something like this for equirectangular, though personally for the cylindrical projections I think the 45°S aspect from earlier works better:

I actually worked out how to get this aspect working with the Peirce Quincuncial / Adams Hemisphere-in-a-Square projection, and it's probably a personal choice whether you prefer this to the Stereographic. They're both conformal it's just where you want the area distortion, the Stereographic spreads it out around the circle, while the Peirce has higher distortion confined to a smaller area (close to the corners).

I think I'm definitely a big fan of conformal projections for world maps, it seems more worth it to use a conformal projection with low area distortion than a true equal-area projection.

I think if I ever did a real world map with more detail and stuff, I'd probably go with something like the stereographic one that cuts the southern continent in half, it's the one that I could realistically see getting widely used in-universe, at least pre digital.

[terroremarium]

☆ﾟ.*・ ◞ auli'i cravalho / female / kānaka maoli, puerto rican, portuguese, chinese & white / she/her ——— is that blossom rosza on bourbon street ? the 20 year old banshee who stay in the downtown district ? i heard their adoptive parents are josh rosza &. aiden. they are notoriously known for being meticulous, forbearing but also tractable, self critical. which is probably why they are considered the quiescent around town.  i wonder if they had their tarot cards reading, yet? either way, the cards on the table will reveal their fate soon enough

faceclaim: auli'i cravalho. height:  5’1. build:  slim. eyes:  brown. hair:  dark brown. piercings:  standard earlobe, right ear cartilage piercing.  tattoos: (x) on the inner of her right arm, she felt a pull to get it. . style: a lover of baggy jeans baggy tshirts, vans. nothing too fitting and shops mainly in the men’s section of clothing shops. sexuality: pansexual

P E R S O N A L I T Y

traits: (+)caring, creative, soft hearted (-) easily influenced, stoic, daydreamer

M I S C E L A N E O U S

a cherished item:  the last birthday card her birth parents wrote to her. it was given to her a few days before their death.

B A C K G R O U N D

blossom was born to alexander and isabel garcia. she was adored by her parents. themselves constantly moving around. both her birth parents having lost all their family young, but that was due to her mother being a banshee.

life was normal, but blossom showed early signs of her death sensing, often waking up with nightmares, but blossom cannot remember much about them even now.

her parents both were murdered when she was five years old, in front of blossom. that scene still haunts her to this day. luckily the police came in time before anything could happen to blossom.

she was taken to New Orleans and shortly after she was taken in and adopted by aiden &. josh, both believing that she was human as there was nothing to question it at all.

she is often seen drawing, it’s a way to keep away her death sensing and other banshee powers. most of the therapist put this down to the trauma of witnessing her parents passing.

she often has nightmares, especially recently. she’s has put it down to stress of being a college student and assignments when it really isn't that at all.

she is a very soft girl, always happy to help where she can with anything and will be there for anyone who she sees as friends or family.

can be quiet at times and always has her head in her sketchpad to let her feelings out. they are often dark drawings of death / related to death which is due to her banshee ability but again, the girl doesn't know that that is what it is.

bit of a dork as well.

[melpomeneprose]

CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE !!

Tagged by: myself.

Tagging: @general-lafayette, @honorhearted, @lauraroleplayss, @the-summer-of-73, @pagetreader, and @washingtonsxalphaxwolf. 💙

✧･ﾟ   𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

► ELIZABETH SCHUYLER-HAMILTON.

Name: Elizabeth Schuyler-Hamilton.

Alias(es): Betsey & Eliza.

Gender: female (she/her).

Orientation: bi (male lean) (Protestant and quiet about it). 
Age: I have her at 24-26 during the American Revolution, after that, 30+, or timeline/verse dependent.

Date of birth: August 9th, 1757

Place of birth: Albany, NYC

Spoken language(s): English, French, Dutch & German.

Occupation(s): socialite, Dutch old money, philanthropist, advocate, wife and mother. Sometimes nurse during the American Revolution -> aiding her father General Phillip Schuyler.

★  ⸻   APPEARANCE

Eye colour: green-brown.

Hair colour: brunette.

Height: 5’2”

Other: values modesty as well as strength and dressing well. She pretty much always is wearing a fichu.

18th century ladies fashion.

18th century fashion glossary.

★  ⸻   FAVORITE

Colour: blue, cream, light pink and white.

Song: Eliza playlist.

Hamliza playlist.

Food: Apple turnover.

Drink: wine.

★  ⸻   HAVE THEY...

Passed university: by 18th century standards.

Had sex: yes.

Had sex in public: no.

Gotten pregnant/someone else pregnant: yes.

Kissed a boy: yes.

Kissed a girl: yes.

Gotten tattoos: no.

Gotten piercings: yes, ears.

Been in love: yes.

Stayed up 24+ hours: yes.

★  ⸻   ARE THEY...

A virgin: no.

A cuddler: yes.

A kisser: yes.

Scared easily: subjective.

Jealous easily: yes.

Submissive: yes.

Dominant: no.

In love: verse/thread dependant.

Relationship status: verse/thread dependant.

★  ⸻   RANDOM QUESTIONS

TW for self-harm/suicide mention.

Have they harmed themselves: no.

Thought of suicide/ideated: once, as a teenager.

Attempted suicide: no.

Wanted to kill someone: Briefly, in a moment of rage and betrayal. (Alexander following The Reynold’s Pamphlet).

Have/had a job: she wants to, but her father won’t let her.

Fears: not being enough.

Sibling(s): Angelica Schuyler-Church, Margarita “Peggy” Schuyler, all of Philip Schuyler’s sons.

Parent(s): Catherine “Kitty” Van Rensselaer/Phillip Schuyler.

Children:

Philip Hamilton

Angelica Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton Jr.

James Alexander Hamilton

John Church Hamilton

William S. Hamilton

Eliza Hamilton Holly

Philip Hamilton II

Significant other: Alexander Hamilton (1780 to 1804).

Or: thread/verse dependant.

Pet(s): the feral tomcat. (affectionate) /j

Eliza’s Wikipedia.

The Dutch in NYC.

Hot take: why Eliza deserves a musical.

The Orphanage Eliza founded.

[bitchfitch]

While visiting family for the holidays I've come to notice something.

So y'all know how there's a pretty Massive issue happening primarily with trucks and SUVs right now? Theyre being made taller and taller without the geometry really changing to make sure you can still see out in front of the vehicle. and that has lead to a misidentification of what the problem actually like, is.

I drive an old van. a retired ambulance to be precise. She was built before this obsession with Bigger vehicles really hit the market, and before van manufacturers were considering the vanping market when making their products. She can't fit under some bridges and I need a step stool to get into the driver's seat bc i am a tiny cripple and did not take that into account when I bought her. she's a fucking Big vehicle. i love her dearly, she's florescent.

Despite being fucking Massive do you want to know something funny about her front end blind spot? Its microscopic. It's smaller than the blind spot on my cousins sporty little 2 door. because this is a Fuck off massive vehicle, that was still designed to be Practical. the front end slopes so that her nose is a little shorter than a standard mom mini SUV. With her seat being Way fucking high up, it makes it so you can see basically everything directly in front of her at all times while sitting comfortably.

Which like, is to say: My van is fucking cool, and also that you don't need to limit over all vehicle size to fix the blind spot issue, just the height of the nose. in relation to the angle the driver is viewing their front end by. bc like, my cousins sporty little 2 door, shouldn't have a front end blind spot almost as bad as a lifted f 150 trucks.

[beattoquarters2]

The SS United States was the largest passenger vessel ever built in America. With the participation of companies from all 48 states in the union, her construction was a truly national effort that brought the best and brightest minds together in the days before the jet age. As Secretary of Commerce Charles Sawyer said in 1952: “This ship is truly First Lady of the Seas. No other passenger ship ever built is so beautiful, so fast, so safe, so useful.”

Designed as part of a Top Secret Pentagon program to build the fastest ship on earth, the SS United States could be converted from luxury ocean liner to troop transport carrying 14,000 troops over 10,000 miles without refueling. The ship’s 240,000-horsepower engines were the largest powerplant ever installed in a passenger liner. Her long-classified top speed was generated by tandem four and five blade propellers, designed and fitted under tight security to avoid detection by the Soviets. Her high-temperature, high-pressure dual engine rooms were designed to Navy Standards and were also Top Secret. Thanks to her innovative compartmentation, she could have survived the collision that sunk the RMS Titanic.

The ship’s fittings reflected the height of mid-century modern art and design. The vessel incorporated a host of technological “firsts”. She was the first ship fully air conditioned in all public spaces and staterooms. She was the first vessel to use microwave ovens and was the first commercial application of tempered glass. Many new products and materials, from paints to flooring to fabrics were custom designed to surpass all fireproofing standards of her time.

“America’s Flagship” was more than a symbol of the nation’s post-war strength and global reach. She remains a singular and unrivaled marine engineering and design achievement.

Van Hemmen notes that, “with very few exceptions, in their own lifetime, ship designers get to see the disassembly of most of their creations.” In fact, William Gibbs, was an exception. His “Perfect Ship” long outlived him and remains afloat today, over 50 years after being decommissioned.

Photo the SS United States and SS America

[latenitewaffles]

Webslinger lore 👀👀👀👀👀

Ok I'll take this and @sirenspells liking the original post as a yes!

Hero Log - Earth-6283

Webslinger

Nathan "Nate" Chase Baker (He/Him)

Enhanced Mutant Human

Age: 20

Height: 5'7"

Powers (1): Enhanced endurance, strength, and physical resistance, near-telepathic reactions (named spider-sense), ability to stick to surfaces (appears to possibly bend gravity around him), night vision. Powers were gained by being bitten by a radioactive spider.

Powers (2): Ability to absorb, hold, and release kinetic force. Ability to hold force is not infinite. Powers are mutant (x-gene) in origin. (notes; properties of mutation seem similar to vibranium. May require testing. Additionally, mutant powers are frighteningly similar to Sebastian Shaw's. Likely a coincidence.)

Family: Mother, two Brothers, estranged father, large extended family

Friends: James Rogers, Gwen Stacy, Eddie Brock, Hope Pym-Van Dyne, Henry Pym-Van Dyne, Cooper Coen, Kitty Pride, Bobby Drake, various New York based heroes

Romantic Interests: Bobby Drake (Iceman)

Affiliations: X-Men, Defenders, Spider-Society (Former)

Webslinger (AKA, Nate Baker) was bitten by a radioactive spider at 15 years old while on a field trip to Alchemax Labs. Over the next few days, Nate would slowly develop superpowers while feeling very sick, destroying things, and accidentally reveal said powers to his friends Hope and Cooper, both of whom suggested that he should become a superhero. Hope created the web shooters, Cooper made the first costume, and Nate made his debut as New York's one-and-only Webslinger.

8 months later, Nate is assisting his grandfather, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, with a case involving Venom (Flash Thompson). After taking down Flash and subduing the symbiote, an on-edge cop shoots at Webslinger in the dark (mistaking him for Venom). Nate's grandfather takes the hit for him, and while dying in the hospital, reveals that he knew that Nate was Webslinger the whole time, and that he's proud of him. Now, for most spider people, this is where they're told that with great power comes great responsibility. But for Nate? His grandfather, whose been dealing with Heroes for decades, drilled that into him since he could walk. Nate swore to stick to that for the rest of his life, and his grandfather passed.

(More info and costume below!)

Nate is a musician! He plays guitar and trumpet.

His identity is private but not fully secret. His mom, one brother, non-hero friends, maybe 4 oc heroes, and a good portion of the X-Men know his identity.

Why do the X-Men know his identity? He currently lives with them! It's a long story, but when he was 19 he awakened his mutant powers at a family gathering and ran off before anyone could figure out what happened

That being said, he's been friend with Bobby Drake and Kitty Pride for a while

Despises Reed Richards and mildly dislikes Hank Pym

His rogues gallery is similar to standard, with some differences that I'll get to later.

Below is his second costume, which he made after his grandpa's death.