#also I added a bunch of scraps

[tj-crochets]

The quilt post is getting long, so new post time! All the fabric is cut out!! :D

[axellis-archv-2]

hey *takes what was supposed to be just a visualization in case i ever wanted to draw overhallidays place in the future and then spends 4 hours on it

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Tech’s benevolent-dictator-for-life to authoritarian pipeline

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/10/bdfl/#high-on-your-own-supply

Silicon Valley's "authoritarian turn" is hard to miss: tech bosses have come out for autocrats like Trump, Orban, Milei, Bolsonaro, et al, and want to turn San Francisco into a militia-patrolled apartheid state operated for the benefit of tech bros:

https://newrepublic.com/article/180487/balaji-srinivasan-network-state-plutocrat

Smart people have written well about what this means, and have gotten me thinking, too:

https://www.programmablemutter.com/p/why-did-silicon-valley-turn-right

Regular readers will know that I make a kind of hobby of collecting definitions of right-wing thought:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#tolerable-racism

One of these – a hoary old cliche – is that "a conservative is a liberal who's been mugged." I don't give this one much credence, but it takes on an interesting sheen when combined with this anonymous gem: "Conservatives say they long for the simpler times of their childhood, but what they miss is that the reason they lived simpler lives back then wasn't that the times were simpler; rather, it's because they were children."

If you're a tech founder who once lived in a world where your workers were also your pals and didn't shout at you about labor relations, perhaps that's not because workers got "woke," but rather, because when you were all scrapping at a startup, you were all on an equal footing and there weren't any labor relations to speak of. And if you're a once-right-on tech founder who used to abstractly favor "social justice" but now find yourself beset by people demanding that you confront your privilege, perhaps what's changed isn't those people, but rather the amount of privilege you have.

In other words, "a reactionary tech boss is a liberal tech boss who hired a bunch of pals only to have them turn around and start a union." And also: "Tech founders say things were simpler when they were running startups, but what they miss is that the reason no one asked their startup to seriously engage with the social harms it caused is the because the startup was largely irrelevant to society, while the large company it turned into is destroying millions of peoples' lives today."

The oft-repeated reactionary excuse that "I didn't leave the progressive movement, they left me," can be both technically true and also profoundly wrong: if progressives in your circle never bothered you about your commercial affairs, perhaps that's because those affairs didn't matter when you were grinding out code in your hacker house, but they matter a lot now that you have millions of users and thousands of employees.

I've been in tech circles since before the dawn of the dotcoms; I was part of a movement of people who would come over to your house with a stack of floppies and install TCP/IP and PPP networking software on your computer and show you how to connect to a BBS or ISP, because we wanted everyone to have as much fun as we were having.

Some of us channeled that excitement into starting companies that let people get online, create digital presences of their own, and connect with other people. Some of us were more .ORG than .COM and gave our lives over to activism and nonprofits, missing out on the stock options and big paydays. But even though we ended up in different places, we mostly started in the same place, as spittle-flecked, excited kids talking a mile a minute about how cool this internet thing would be and helping you, a normie, jump into it.

Many of my peers from the .ORG and .COM worlds went on to set up institutions – both companies and nonprofits – that have since grown to be critical pieces of internet infrastructure: classified ad platforms, online encyclopedias, CMSes and personal publishing services, critical free/open source projects, standards bodies, server-to-server utilities, and more.

These all started out as benevolent autocracies: personal projects started by people who pitched in to help their virtual neighbors with the new, digital problems we were all facing. These good people, with good impulses, did good: their projects filled an important need, and grew, and grew, and became structurally important to the digital world. What started off as "Our pal's project that we all pitch in on," became, "Our pal's important mission that we help with, but that also has paid staff and important stakeholders, which they oversee as 'benevolent dictator for life.'"

Which was fine. The people who kicked off these projects had nurtured them all the way from a napkin doodle to infrastructure. They understood them better than anyone else, had sacrificed much for them, and it made sense for them to be installed as stewards.

But what they did next, how they used their powers as "BFDLs," made a huge difference. Because we are all imperfect, we are all capable of rationalizing our way into bad choices, we are all riven with insecurities that can push us to do things we later regret. When our actions are checked – by our peers' social approval or approbation; by the need to keep our volunteers happy; by the possibility of a mass exodus of our users or a fork of our code – these imperfections are balanced by consequences.

Dictators aren't necessarily any more prone to these lapses in judgment than anyone else. Benevolent dictators actually exist, people who only retain power because they genuinely want to use that power for good. Those people aren't more likely to fly off the handle or talk themselves into bad places than you or me – but to be a dictator (benevolent or otherwise) is to exist without the consequences that prevent you from giving in to those impulses. Worse: if you are the dictator – again, benevolent or otherwise – of a big, structurally important company or nonprofit that millions of people rely on, the consequences of these lapses are extremely consequential.

This is how BDFL arrangements turn sour: by removing themselves from formal constraint, the people whose screwups matter the most end up with the fewest guardrails to prevent themselves from screwing up.

No wonder people who set out to do good, to help others find safe and satisfying digital homes online, find themselves feeling furious and beset. Given those feelings, can we really be surprised when "benevolent" dictators discover that they have sympathy for real-world autocrats whose core ethos is, "I know what needs to be done and I could do it, if only the rest of you would stop nagging me about petty bullshit that you just made up 10 minutes ago but now insist is the most important thing in the world?"

That all said, it's interesting to look at the process by which some BDFLs transitioned to community-run projects with checks and balances. I often think about how Wikipedia's BDFL, the self-avowed libertarian Jimmy Wales, decided (correctly, and to his everlasting credit), that the project he raised from a weird idea into a world-historic phenomenon should not be ruled over by one guy, not even him.

(Jimmy is one of those libertarians who believes that we don't need governments to make us be kind and take care of one another because he is kind and takes care of other people – see also John Gilmore and Penn Jillette:)

https://www.cracked.com/article_40871_penn-jillette-wants-to-talk-it-all-out.html

Jimmy's handover to the Wikimedia Foundation gives me hope for our other BDFLs. He's proof that you can find yourself in the hotseat without being so overwhelmed with personal grievance that you find yourself in sympathy with actual fascists, but rather, have the maturity and self-awareness to know that the reason people are demanding so much of you is that you have – deliberately and with great effort – created a situation in which you owe the world a superhuman degree of care and attention, and the only way to resolve that situation equitably and secure your own posterity is to share that power around, not demand that you be allowed to wield it without reproach.

[boxbug]

A Canary’s Final Flight

My piece for @trafficzine 4th edition! Get it for free here! 200 pages of excellent art and fics, incredible work from all participants and from the mods especially!! huge shoutout to the mods for real

Process notes under the cut! (I struggled a lot so it's a bit of a novel)

So the entire process was a Ride. I knew when I picked this prompt that I was going to have a hard time, because Jimmy’s final death had been illustrated a billion times over by extremely talented artists. But I had a Vision of the snapshot of the second before the impact, when everything is still but you know what’s about happen. It was very much inspired by the clip of Fog by Jabberwocky, bu the thing is, they have the advantage of all the build up of the fall, and that’s when the trouble started.

This was my first version, and obviously it wasn't working. And I was trying so hard, with so many iterations! Small wings, big wings, no wings, different poses, less backgrounds elements. I'd done compositions were everything seemed peaceful but something is Wrong, but it wasn't working this time.

So instead I focused on what rendering I'd like to do - I tried a painterly approach, for that visceral feeling, but it wasn't working either (but hey, I did keep the red sky, so, progress)

At this point I'd been doing back and forths for weeks and I was just as lost as at the start. Now that's my tip for people who make art of any kind, in situations like that, stop thinking about how you can make the best piece possible, and think about you can have fun with it (because when you aren't it's visible). And for that was, 1 - going back to using ink and pen nibs and doing way too detailed inking, and 2- looking at Dave McKean's covers for Sandman (which, funnily enough, was also a reference for my previous trafficzine piece)

And from there I was actually going somewhere! Between the jagged rocks, the red sky, and the increased verticality with the borders, I had hit the vibes I wanted.

I did some experimentation with the border, and even though I really liked the bad boys I drew they were taking too much away from the lonely desolation, so I actually used Red (Unecessary Redstone)'s idea of all of Jimmy's worldy's possessions scattered on the ground post impact, with the idea to make it looks like the central image is his grave being dug.

(and yes for a short amount of time the were supposed to be clock markings on the sun, but there was already enough going with the wings so I scrapped that) (also fun fact the reason why the wings aren't fully material but more ghostly is because my toddler cousin was watching me draw the very first draft and asked why he didn't just use his wings and i went :( so the wings are a metaphor now)

So from there I found a bunch of picture and took some myself, cut and assembled everything together, added shadows in all the appropriate places, and repainted some elements so that everything would look better intergrated (some of the wheats are basically 100% handpainted, the cardboard as well). This took a suprisingly long amount of time, but I was done!

Well I wasn't expecting to have that much to say, but I hope if you're still reading, it was at least interesting!

[reds-skull]

The frames of the video from the comic in the previous post. I experimented a lot with this, it was really fun to work with this chunky brush I found. Also the first time I draw the Reaper of Destruction as it was before Lumity!

More comments under the cut+a frame I ended up scrapping!

I'll go by order of appearance, because it's basically a chronological retelling of the events of part 1.

So the first frame is the least fancy because it was the first and I didn't nail down a style for this yet lol. It shows Ghost and Soap's first true meeting, in chapter 1, where Ghost helps Soap when he gets impaled by a rebar.

The second frame jumps to chapter 8, when Ghost first put Soap in Limbo. The triangle around them was a later addition, taken from the next frame. I love this scene, it's so fun to see it drawn out now :)

The third frame was the most important one to nail the style. I painted a whole frame, only to come back to it the next day and restart from almost 0.

This is the original third frame

They both show the same event - chapter 21, the second time Soap is thrown into Limbo. The difference is, one shows a more literal image of what happened, and the other is more symbolic.

And by now I think you know how much I love symbolism lol

What also bothered me with the scraped painting is that the composition isn't central, and the entire pose, while more dynamic, isn't fitting the mural feel the rest has.

There's an even earlier version of the scrapped painting, with Soap's face, but nowhere else there are faces in these series, so I went wild with it and covered it with flames. He had them behind him already, as the description of this scene in the fic says Soap had a helo of fire behind him.

(also hated how Limbo's victims looked in the scrapped version like... ew lol)

There wasn't a real reason to add the circles around Soap. I just wanted to lean more heavily into the mural style. But I took that circle motif to the end, after that, and added it to Ghost as well, hence the triangle.

Soap has one skeletal hand, and one palm. That one is on purpose, to show he's hanging in between life and death.

The fourth frame is pretty self-explanatory, it shows the part in chapter 21 where Soap gets the dark marks on his forearm. If the colors look weird in that one, it's because I messed with them so much I couldn't tell if they look good anymore on not

The fifth frame shows another favorite moment of mine, the moment Ghost gets his marks, the white tear tracks, when he finally notices Soap fighting in the void.

The sixth frame is my favorite of the bunch. Soap and Ghost, the triangle and circle combined. The moment they killed Graves, Ghost in full control of his subjects, Soap with his sword of white fire and army of burning moths. They look so scary in this one I love them

The seventh frame shows Void and Destruction. Void was straight forward, I've drawn it a few times before, but I had to make a more detailed design for Destruction, and I only had the very first sketches I made for Revenant AU to go off of, as well as Lumity's design. Idk why I designed Lumity before Destruction, but that's how it is. I wanted Destruction melting, like it can't handle its own heat.

The eighth frame is of Void and Destruction combining. In the fic they had in-between states, it didn't look like this, but for the sake of the video I thought it'd be nicer to have a clear frame of them combining.

The ninth and last frame is of our beloved Lumity. Their design is a little more detailed than the drawing I made a while back. This frame is also the only one that interacts with the foreground, aka Makarov. I think he was jump-scared, don't know how much that comes across.

Damn I had a lot to write. Well, when given the opportunity to ramble...

[madonnamadeofasphalt]

EA & Bioware honestly did an incredible job at killing any enthusiasm I had for a new Dragon Age. Fucking hell, man, I've played the first two games so much I could probably go through them with closed eyes and still pick all the right dialogue options to get My Exact Personally Canonized Plot. And the only reason I didn't do the same thing with DA:I is because it was made after EA completely gave up on optimizing their shit so the fucking thing takes up like a billion terabytes of disc space and takes 10 hours to download and install. I honestly think it's the best-written cRPG franchise to ever have a budget that doesn't involve a list of Kickstarter backers or getting an eccentric Estonian billionaire fixated on the project. And the gameplay is also there, I don't really care about that part.

Then they proceeded to fire all the talent that made me love those first three games, and scratch and restart the production twice, and be suspiciously cagey with any details or gameplay footage for a fucking decade, so my hype consistently went down and down. And yet I still managed to hold out some hope that somehow, by some miracle, it wouldn't fucking suck.

I kept that hope until the trailer dropped. You know the one. The one where we see a bearded Varric. This, I think, was the exact moment when I lost any desire to play fucking Veilguard.

Like, first of all, Varric being there at all is already an issue. Leave the man alone. His presence was already kinda forced in DA:I. And after DA:I and Tresspasser, his story couldn't be more finished if he got killed, eaten, shitted out, condemned to hell, redeemed by divine sacrifice, bathed for eternity in the everlasting light. There is no point to Varric anymore. Whatever arc they've given him in Veilguard, and I don't even give a shit enough to read the spoilers before writing this post, it has no business existing. Fuck you. The only reason he's there is because he's a recognizable IP, and when you're a certain kind of soulless corporate moron, you think there's nothing more important than putting a recognizable IP in whatever new bullshit you're trying to peddle. Maybe if you didn't fire every decent writer in your trash fucking company, you'd have someone to tell you about the importance of Ending The Fucking Story When The Story Fucking Ends.

But that's not even the core of the problem. Beard? they gave Varric a Beard? Varric I fucking hate everything that's even tangentially connected to dwarven culture with a passion which is why I've made a point to shave my beard all my life to spite anyone who gives a fuck about it Tethras? beard? you gave him a beard? He changed so much offscreen in the goddamn timeskip between these two games that he got a motherfucking berd? fucshhfdbeard? feadsgfsvarricafgfdh BEARD? yyousftoiuslyhhabevarricasgsfucningbeardandthivkimgosabedineditit?beard????

PS. (edit after finding out spoilers) I've gone to TV Tropes to read up on Varric's role in DATV after writing this (just in case I'm wrong and dumb, and there's actually a deeply compelling narrative reason for his presence), and, well, this shit is cheaper than I thought. And more importantly, just as I thought, there appears to be no justification for the beard beyond "adding a beard is a cliche way to show that a bunch of time has passed, and we didn't care enough to think this shit through". I'm fucking tired, man.

PPS. (edit after reading the rest of big spoilers) This is so much worse than I could even begin to suspect. This is worse than the final season of Game of Thrones. This is the final season of Game of Thrones if they straight-up fired GRRM, burned his notes and hired a showrunner who's only read a one-page summary of the first six seasons. This is fucking depressing, man. I'm genuinely fucking sad. So many subplots that were started over the course of these three games, that were clearly going somewhere, scrapped in favour of a simplistic good vs. evil story that would get rejected by fucking CD-Projekt in 2007 for being too basic. All because the artists who poured their hearts and souls into this bullshit franchise got thrown out like trash by its "owners". Morrigan's kid, the Well of Sorrows, all the implied complexities of Tevinter politics, the Crows, the Old Gods, Andraste. All went to shit. Death to capitalism.

[leclsrc]

hi auds bear!! dunno if you saw charles' insta story of his new sky ad but now begging for a 2k celebration blurb of dad!charles <3

misspelled – cl16

genre: fluff, 2k celebration, girldad!charles

“It’s L-E-S, love.” He points to the piece of paper peppered with doodles. “Go ahead for me.”

The sun is high and sweltering, with noontime March heat, but still Charles is undeterred in his quest to get your daughter to spell his name properly. The evening prior, you’d presented him with a welcome home card signed by her, and addressed to Daddy Charlse—cue the Leclerc dramatics.

He’d pressed about a thousand kisses to her tiny face, thanking her over and over and keeping the card in his bag so they could cook dinner together. But once the pasta was finished and the toothbrush jingle was sang (twice) and he’d stowed her off to bed (three storybooks later), he padded over to your bed and sighed lowly, stopping just shy of the foot of it. Already you’d sensed his incoming anxious complaint.

It comes. “So. Charl-s-e.” 

“She’s four, honey.” You’d shut your book softly, smiling. “She spells her grandmum’s name as Packal.”

“It’s because I’m always out for work, isn’t it?” He climbed into bed beside you, perching his chin on your stomach. “And this is also because Max keeps insisting he babysit, sweetie. I swear, he’s brainwashing my baby girl.”

You laughed; the vibration extended into him and he smiled fondly at your reaction. “Charles, it’s nothing. They’re working on spelling at school, you know—she’s got a few words she gets wrong sometimes, the same ones. But she’s learning.”

“Charl-s-e,” he’d repeated sullenly. “Charl-seh.”

“If it matters that much, why don’t you try teaching her tomorrow?” You swept your hand through his hair, mouth in a half-smile. “Make an afternoon of it.”

He’d taken your advice very seriously—woken up a bit earlier, cooked them both pancakes (and you French toast, as always) and led her into the yard for some daddy-daughter time. “If you’re thirsty, I made lemonade,” you sing-song from the patio door. “You two’ve been at it for a bit.”

There are scrapped pieces of paper with his name misspelled on most of them—there is the occasional success, though you’re guessing Charles wants just one more—and drawings of your family all over them. You already sense the influx of pictures Charles has on his phone, of these drawings and cards he always posts on his Instagram or sends to you.

At your announcement, Julia looks up, green eyes piqued with interest, grip on the red crayon loosening. But her father’s faster, gently coaxing her back into the mini lawn chair that sits on the yard. She nods along his careful instructions, writing slowly, sun filtering through her light brown hair.

You get short moments of reprieve like this during the season. It’s rare for Charles to visit if he’s in the thick of it—most of the time you travel to a different city to see him, Julia going from your hip to his arms in seconds once he spots the two of you. But this moment is irreplaceable: the sunrays on the grass, the lemonade waiting to be drank, the pieces of paper with Mommy and Papa, bunchfuls of grapes on the patio table. 

He tries again. “Come on, love. C-H-A…” 

She bounds into the kitchen five minutes clutching a final paper, which she shows you with a sun-tinged face of pride. CHARLSE, it reads still. You pour her a glass, wait for Charles to finish packing up the rest of the art materials Julia was too excited to do herself; he comes in a bit sweaty from the sun asking to see the card.

You hand him a glass and press a kiss to his cheek. “Still S-E,” you say, both of you reading over the various scribbles.

“I don’t care.” He pauses. “You see this?” He points to the lower part of the page. 

Best Daddy Ever is written on it in wild vivid colors. You beam, love bubbling up in your chest overwhelmingly. He takes it from you and tacks it onto on the fridge, smiling. “She wrote that. I couldn’t have asked for a better card.” 

[ninakoll]

had a wonderful con this past weekend!! saw a bunch of enstars people INCLUDING all of crazy:b......... to everyone i met and talked to, thank you so much, you made it the amazing weekend that it was!! 😭🧡🧡 big shoutouts to my wife + besties for hanging out and taking pics..!! now i can go back to regular scheduling + work + drawing in my free time...!! (putting pics of my rinne under a readmore bc im shy)

it was my first time cosplaying a non-monster which was very intimidating, prev cosplays i did had either a huntress mask, pig mask, reverse bear trap on etc... i sewed everything from mostly repurposed 2nd hand clothes (ie i frankensteined together 2 pairs of pants with only the yellow fabric as new, reused the white pants scraps to make hoodie details), added wire piping to have the jacket keep the shape with the hood, etc!! im sad i didnt take pics while wearing it of the back of the jacket or details since it had wings..

i also met a phantom who made the freaking whole red death phantom costume from scratch and we talked about poto for a little short while... you can rly tell im like losing my mind over it!!!

anyway goodbye my sweet prince rinne, i am done being an anime boy. for now

[writing-hat]

shattering

/!\ Spoilers for Dragons Rising S2P2!

(very original title) hiii i'm still not dead <3 sorry i'm not active but y'know. life.

here's a jay fic!! about him experiencing shatterspin for the very first time but this is actually more me trying to make the wolf masks kinda gory and made out of flesh it's. it's an experiment. as well as like. physical effects

i'm just having fun and trying out some things (ig it's not really a fic then but idk adfkjsegd)

/!\ TW : Blood, Gore, Wounds, Death (tell me if I forgot something)

Also not beta read and I don't read that well behind myself yaddi yadda y'know the drill (especially since this is more of a bunch of scraps assembled together and not a real fic akfjzsgv (I might cross post it on AO3 at some point we'll see))

This is around 6.8k words so it's half a short? anyway enjoy

Jay narrowed his eyes at the mask he held.

It seemed to be looking back at him. And to be frank, he wasn’t a fan of how it looked back.

A shiver crawled down his spine as he passed his fingers on the front. It was meant to be a mask, but the fact that there was hair there, even if short, was somewhat disturbing to realize. He didn’t know how to feel about the idea that these could be made of real fur. Or worse, that they were somewhat organic, and used to be alive.

He checked the eyes; they seemed colorless, and dull, when inactivated. Glassy.

Dead.

That last realization brought relief. Yeah, it was dead.

Whatever it was.

He knew he was supposed to put that shit on at some point, but… it didn’t seem like a great idea, in hindsight. At least that’s what his guts were telling him.

His mind was on a whole other setting. He trusted Ras, after all. Why shouldn’t he? He had saved him, from the insanity that the Administration had been.

Thank goodness this is over. He was grateful to the man, and had taken the time to hear his interests, and plans. Things Jay wasn’t bothered by, too big to be of a concern to him. But since they were important to his savior, well, who was he to refuse helping him?

He passed a hand on the fur again, before turning it around to see the inside. He winced.

It had been… somewhat ‘polished’, but one could not look away from the flesh that had probably been ripped apart from some unfortunate creature, the whole mask made of stitches between different kinds of skin. But he didn’t dare to touch it to confirm his fears. Had it been the same specie, every time? He did wonder if asking himself that wasn’t the most unimportant question of all.

Living beings had to die, for these masks to be made.

Jay hated how his brain was sure of it.

That, and there was some… sort of taint, at the bottom of it. Where the mouth was supposed to be.

It wasn’t on all the masks, but enough of them had it to pique Jay’s curiosity.

He hadn’t talked about it to Lord Ras yet, of course. He doubted others had noticed what these visages were made of. He wasn’t even sure how he had noticed the details in the first place.

Perhaps due to his weird anxious nature about everything that’s been happening since starting his life in the Administration. His only life, actually, since he couldn’t remember shit from before.

The medallion felt heavy in his pocket. Its sudden presence making itself known made him frown.

This piece of metal was all that was left to him. He wasn’t even sure how the ones that had found him in the Land of Madness hadn’t taken that away from him, just like all his previous belongings.

He placed the mask back in its place, giving it a final glare, before walking away.

He looked at himself, unsure of what to think of his clothes.

They were comfy, that was for sure. Much better then the suit he’d been forced to wear for years in this damned Administration. And looking much better. He did enjoy the patterns that had been added to go along his powers. Symbols of wolf could be seen as well, on his chest, making sure people would know which clan he belonged to- in case the mask wouldn’t be enough.

But the fur covering his neck, and the gloves… he didn’t like as much. They hid away scars, important parts of himself.

Then again, he still had the ones on his face, definitely due to his own powers when it came to the lightning paths, and probably from fights where there were cuts, and skin that had been torn.

He wasn’t a fan of keeping them away.

But, having his body completely protected when it was clear he was going to fight in the future wasn’t that bad of an idea. Are we going to fight now? Jay doubted it. A lot of the new recruits had probably no idea of what they were getting into. Had probably been enrolled with the idea that they were going to become better fighters, with something close to powers. Lots of people didn’t listen fully when about to drastically change their lives, he had seen it many times in the Administration.

With a heavy sigh, he passed a hand on his face. To be honest, Jay hadn’t thought that long about this idea of joining Lord Ras’s forces as well.

But I owe him. He was there when no one had tried to help. It was all that mattered.

Jay could hear people getting closer. He turned around, seeing Cinder and Ras coming towards him.

The latter still had the same expression as always, severe, and mildly pissed off at people for breathing in front of him. The master of smoke, on the other hand, often had a smug expression there, knowing he was above everyone else, and enjoying it way too much. Not too far from them, he could see Jordana, the sort of witch- he didn’t completely understand what her deal was- who looked away as soon as she saw Jay noticing her.

He didn’t get to focus on that, though, when Ras made sure to be the only thing in his vision.

“I take it you’re ready for today.”

No. Not at all. But this wasn’t what their Lord wanted to hear. “Yes.” He took a deep breath, doing his best to resist the need to fidget with the fur around his collar.

“A first test, to make sure everything will go smoothly for the first battle.” Cinder chuckled at Jay��s expression, before handing him the wolf mask. “You’re lucky to try it before the real deal, Jay.”

He glared at Cinder. “Yeah. I guess so.”

Though, with how the master of smoke was looking at him, mocking, he wouldn’t call any of this luck.

Inhaling sharply, he tried to not let himself show how nervous he felt. He hadn’t expected to wear it so soon. He grabbed the mask that was given to him, nauseous at how he was about to wear unknown skin on his own.

He tried to compare it to leather, but fuck that had nothing in common. He passed trembling fingers on the inside, wanting to confirm his fears.

…Yup. Organic tissues. It was repulsing.

Cinder quirked an eyebrow. “Are you hesitant now?”

There was a threatening growl coming from Ras that echoed with the other’s words. Jay closed his eyes, and shook his head. At least… there weren’t any smell to go with the thing. “No. Not at all.”

“Good.” Ras crossed his arms behind his back, walking towards the arena. “Then get ready. You will be tested along our new soldiers.”

Soldiers. Why did he hate that designation? Wasn’t he supposed to be more, with his elemental power?

He adverted his gaze, focusing it back on the inside of this mask. “Sure.”

It was the first time he entered the shadow dojo. The outside had been eerie, with nothing but the strange orange and red light on their paths, but the inside was a whole other deal.

It was… poorly lighted, somehow, despite the bright lights coming from outside, with candles offering a soft blue glow all around them. He wasn’t sure how the flames managed to stay in that hue, but couldn’t really focus on that when he was trying to avoid all the others that entered with him. Some were chatting, apparently already knowing each other.

Jay didn’t want to know anyone in here. He didn’t see the point.

There were runes everywhere as well. He had no idea of what they meant, but they were glistening too, in that same color as the candles. Plants had grown as well on the wall, somehow.

He sat on the ground, unbothered to stay up like the others. From here, he could see that the only one on the ground like him was someone with a large hat, covering most of his face. His eyes were revealed briefly when he raised his head to watch who had come here for the first trial, allowing Jay to recognize him.

He was the guy he had seen many times speak with Ras. Although speak was a light statement; more so yelling and arguing, with the latter always having the last word, letting the other clearly frustrated.

Nokt. That was his name. He remembered him due to the electrical device placed on the back of his head. Even if he wasn’t sure he had heard his name right earlier, since it seemed like he preferred to keep to himself, as proved when he lowered his hat down again, effectively shielding his expression away from everyone else.

But there was something Jay managed to see before he did.

A spark of amusement, of all things, akin to one about to watch some sort of entertainment unfold.

…Jay didn’t think he was going to like that guy.

His attention shifted back to their leader, when he hit the ground with his hammer. He gave a speech, one Jay half-listened to, about being ready to change their lives for this better form of power, and so on and so on. Monologues are always so tiring.

…Where had he heard boring monologues like these before?

A glimpse of- something, from before, barely there, that escaped him as soon as he tried to look for it, smothered away by another hit of Lord Ras’s hammer against the ground, and someone getting on their feet and walking to the center of the room. Jay thanked his luck helping out for once, since he definitely wouldn’t have heard his name if he had been first.

Watching the guy, he gave way to his urge, and started to play with the fur around his neck to keep himself calm. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like his anxiety was eating him alive, starting with his insides, and pulling on his guts and get him to run away from there as fast as he could.

He gnawed on his lip. He couldn’t make himself worry about nothing. This was just… apprehension, that came with every test he had to take.

Except if he failed this one, he might’ve to be forced back into the Administration. Damn it.

Deciding on ignoring the painful cramps his overreacting unconscious gave him, he focused back on the scene before him, observing the one that had been called.

The guy nodded his head to Lord Ras, and placed the mask on his face. Jay winced, clutching his other hand around the one he was holding; he really didn’t want to know how centuries old flesh would feel on his face. But he supposed he had no choice.

Holding his breath as Ras approached the gong, he tried to think of the power that wearing this mask would mean for him. He knew there was something about a forbidden technique of some sort, the Shatterspin, which he’d been taught the basics, but what about his powers? What would be the effects?

He’d seen Cinder. He’d seen how much quicker and agile he became whenever the mask would fuse with him, and gift him an armor instead of staying as a mask. The red eyes, he wasn’t that fan of, but if it meant finding who he was supposed to be, by feeling his powers better then ever before…

The scar under his left eye throbbed, forcing him to rub it. Not that he didn’t feel his power now, but he didn’t quite think he had a good grasp on it. He managed a few zaps here and there, and sparks to help him when it was completely dark, but other then that, not much else.

There is potential within you, Jay Walker. These had been Lord Ras’s words.

And he couldn’t wait to unleash that potential.

The gong was hit a first time.

Jay jumped out of his skin when the one put on trial shrieked in pain. Someone beside him gasped, letting him know that he definitely wasn’t the only one to be surprised.

He walked back, holding his face in pain and doubling over as the mask’s glowed that bright cyan. Not letting him the time to rest, or even wonder what was happening to him, the gong was hit a second time with a sound that echoed all around them. It was enough to make the room shake, and dust fall from the unexpectedly stable walls of this place. All the blue lights turned red.

The guy screamed again. Jay watched as he tried to remove the mask, pulling on his hair when trying to remove the strap that kept it in place. But it didn’t budge, despite his knuckles turning white from the force he was using for this one thing.

Jay felt sick, witnessing all this. Glancing around, he noticed how disappointed Lord Ras looked, and the way Cinder let his disgust appear.

…Shit.

His attention shifted back to the man in the center when he heard him puke. From here, he couldn’t really see what came out, and couldn’t help his flinch when the sound of retching reached his ears.

Chocking sounds could then be heard. It surely didn’t help when he threw his head back, gasping for air, too far gone to realize that he was making things worse.

Jay couldn’t look away from him. Doing so… doing so would mean he wasn’t cut for this role. It would mean showing weakness, and not being worthy of the chance offered to him.

Doing so would mean abandoning the man to his fate, a far side of his brain whispered. Jay took a deep breath, brushing that thought aside, just like he always had back in the Administration. Kindness and pity weren’t the way to go when one wanted to master Shatterspin, and the power of the Wolf Clan. He remembered Ras’s warnings too well.

Speaking of which, he couldn’t help but check a second time their leader, breath getting stuck in his throat when he did.

Lord Ras was watching them, not the poor guy struggling to survive against the surges of powers that went in his body forcefully. He was quick to understand; he wanted to see who was able to stomach it, and who would be useless in the future to him. And fuck, Jay didn’t think he could do that, but he didn’t have a choice. His body and mind didn’t have a choice.

The man screamed in pure pain and terror one last time, turning Jay’s insides. His hands grabbed at his skin, scratching with abnormal nails that had grown after the gong had been hit a third time. It made deep wounds, forcing crimson to pour out, but it seemed like the man couldn’t care less, just wanting to get rid of that cursed mask.

He heaved, then coughed, falling on his knees with a final yell, yielding to the pressure of energy that must’ve been coursing through his body. Unable to adapt.

And then…

He fell to the ground.

As soon as he did, the red lights came back to the blue hue they had first seen when entering the room.

When others gasped, and some cried, one, Jay heard a snicker. He looked around, trying to see who was sick enough to have that kind of reaction to someone dropping dead in front of them.

He frowned when he found out who.

Now he knew why Nokt had seemed amused at the beginning. He must’ve known this could happen. What a fucking psychopath. He looked away from him, and back at the center of the dojo.

Ras growled, stomping his boot on the ground at the result. He then turned towards Wolf Warriors, a finger pointed at the now dead man. “Get it out of here. We aren’t done yet.”

Shit. Shit. Jay swallowed hard, unable to look away from the blood, as well as the one the corpse left behind when pulled away in a messy trail.

Their leader hit the ground with his hammer, demanding attention from everyone in the room. “The reason he failed, was his resilience against our power. To become powerful, one must learn to bend to the rules that make it all. Only then, can you be one with the Wolf Clan’s powers.” He pointed his weapon towards the recruits, snarling when most of them took a step back in front of it. “Another one of his mistake was doubting me, and being a coward.”

His eyes scanned the room, glaring. “If any of you feel that way as well, you may as well leave. Now.”

That would be a mistake. Yet, some people immediately hurried out, not needing to be told twice. Not a lot- four of them, he counted. Jay closed his eyes, and tried to ignore how two Wolf Warriors followed after them, their claws ready.

What had he gotten himself into? What was going to happen to him?! How many others were going to die? Not that he questioned of the others’ loyalty, but there was no doubt that witnessing that guy’s death must’ve changed their will to join.

Now that Jay knew this was the consequence of failure… fuck. Fuck. His guts were twisting in there, hurting his stomach physically, at this point. His ears were ringing, clouding his mind from everything else. What if all that he had done, all this ‘surviving’ shit, had only lead to his demise?

Jay clenched his fists. He’d never allow that. Cinder had managed to do it, so why wouldn’t he?

This was an opportunity. To find purpose, and a place where he would belong. He couldn’t screw this up. He wasn’t a damn coward. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to fight back the power that was about to allow him a new beginning.

This was a cruel world after all. Hadn’t he learned that over and over again? And he couldn’t be at the bottom of it all just because others weren’t able to keep up.

He would not. He would survive through it all, no matter what it meant to wear that mask.

No matter the price.

Ras called his name. He was the second one to be tested.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his head, and faced the Lord’s eyes with a fierce glare.

Slowly, he got up, ignoring how his stomach still felt like a pit, and how his head was still hurting from the panic he had felt earlier when seeing that man die, his pulse somehow perceivable in his ears.

Still, he got to the center of the room. Only when he did, his eyes found themselves unable to detach from the splatters of blood everywhere. Some were older. Some were on the walls.

They had all witnessed that many times, hadn’t they? And they hadn’t told anyone.

It was… it was…

He took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to loose it.

A dark paw handed the mask to him. It allowed Jay to focus his eyes in front of him, and away from the red splatters. Something he regretted doing, when meeting Ras’s eyes.

They were harsh, and unforgiving.

Jay couldn’t mess up.

He was being given a chance. A chance, that could be taken back, and handed to any other elemental master. He wasn’t the only one gifted after all, Cinder was the proof of that. Ras didn’t need him for this grand plan; he had an army, and people ready to follow his every order.

On the other hand, Jay needed Ras. And he owed that new chance at freedom, to him.

Straightening up, he grabbed his mask, and tried to not think back on how it was made of skin. Instead, he tried to concentrate on how there was metal there as well. When tying the strap behind his head, he tried to not remember how the one before him hadn’t been able to remove it when wanting to escape.

No turning back.

Darkness cornered his vision, the latter becoming defined by the constricted sight given to him.

Once settled, he placed both his arms along his body, and nodded to Ras with a dry throat. The latter growled, rearranging his hold on the hammer.

The gong was hit a first time.

The wave of its sound exploded in the room, reaching Jay’s body. It froze him, both his physical shell, and thoughts. Everything had gone silent in his mind, and around him. And he wasn’t sure if this was due to the effect of its power.

Even breathing seemed impossible, in these short seconds. He was completely petrified, finding himself feeling as if he’d been stuck in something so dense and heavy, holding him back. No noise could make it out of his mouth, despite the pain that had started to build up in both his face and chest.

Something had cracked inside of him.

Just as he sensed it, the gong was hit a second time.

It felt like a blow to his chest, making him back away. His bones felt breaking as he did, making him wonder if they could’ve been weakened by the power he had been hoping to obtain.

His ears unblocked. It caused him to be suddenly dizzy, and made his head heavy with the lack of oxygen.

Then his breath hitched, as soon as he noticed the paralyzing effect was gone.

Like breaking out of shallow waters and reaching the surface, he gasped, greedily sucking air. His legs wobbled, making him feel like he was about to loose balance, as both his hands reached for his neck to protect the precious air he was barely able to keep in his trachea.

His skin was itchy everywhere. Something was going on inside of him, turning his veins icy cold.

Something was wrong, and hurting. Something was very wrong.

The rush of his blood too was fast, and strong, making him think that his blood vessels were doubling in size, and perhaps stretching his skin as it grew, leading to his articulations becoming harder to move. It left the impression that everything was about to blow inside of him.

For a second, he wondered if he had died, and if he was about to fall on the floor, just like the man before him had, but then realized that the sound of his heartbeat was still there, and as fucking loud as it was quick.

He was alive. He was-

The gong was hit for the third, and last time.

The final wave forced him to puke, which he went along with, trying his best to not suffocate with it like the first guy. A blink, and he noticed that it was blood, coming out from his mouth in worrying amounts.

His insides abruptly felt like shattering, and he yelled, as his whole body seemed burning up, a harsh and painful contrast compared to what he’d been feeling seconds ago.

Jay wasn’t able to keep a shriek from escaping him, when the power he’d felt in him for as long as he could remember reached for his limbs, and exploded. The scent of burning skin made it to his nostrils, and he held his middle, as if trying to stop his insides from escaping him like his powers had. Only when he did, he sensed his lightning breaking apart.

Millions of pieces, made of parts of his powers, going absolutely insane, and making his body spasm.

Getting electrocuted was a familiar feeling. One he despised, but was never able to escape for too long when it came to dealing with his own incompetence and ignorance. Or when he would redirect lighting on their ship, to protect the ones he cared about.

But just like his power, these thoughts were shattered, making him cry, as his head hurt too much for him to keep up with.

So he didn’t.

He let these words and images get torn into pieces, shards feeling like they came to his heart, pulling his whole torso in a constricting sensation that once again made him think like he was about to die, just like that. The boiling sensation kept on increasing, causing his whole body to feel like he was burning alive.

Something clicked, then, and his vision became too blurry to understand. The red lights made it so he didn’t know where he was anymore, the distant image of people he used to know breaking apart again and again, causing his mind to shatter as well.

And once it was all gone, he vomited again, hugging himself tightly as if trying to at least keep his body in one piece. His shoulders slowly felt heavier, and the fur that had been around his sensitive skin suddenly ceased to be.

Though this was the last thing Jay cared about, as he fell to his knees, the collide with the ground making his bones almost rattle. The way his fingers kept twitching made him wonder how they hadn’t broken yet.

His breathing was difficult, with a voice that had turned hoarse at yells and cries of pain he hadn’t even been aware to be letting out.

He was about to die. He didn’t know how the feeling was so familiar, perhaps due to the blood that accumulated in his breathing pipes, akin to water, filling his lungs until there could be no air passing through. His heartbeat was diminishing, yet it stayed as the only thing Jay could hear.

So he caught it. He caught his heart, for it was all that was left to him.

His will to stay alive. His will to have something of his own, that would make him whole.

And it was a heart burning with rage.

This, was what pulled all the pieces back. What once had tried to escape him, was now caught back by the sheer amount of anger he felt at how fate and destiny had treated him.

What does it mean? The question went away as soon as it brushed his mind, the violent waves of power crushing anything that wasn’t meant to be like it away.

Thoughts. Feelings.

They no longer mattered.

All that mattered was power. Stitching back all that had been separated.

His lightning felt growing. Launching itself and balancing his body in positions and forms that meant both a cry for a help and the picture of a violent force forbidding anyone to get close.

Then came the fusion.

The skin that made the inside of the mask slithered in through his pores, pulling and tearing its way through to have full possession of him, and share its cursed strength to the one that had dared to agree with its ways. Jay wanted to wonder if this was what it meant to meddle with dark magic.

But he couldn’t even do that, screaming again with his broken voice at the violent intrusion he had allowed for someone else’s game.

Foolish. Foolish. He always was foolish.

The foreign matter didn’t bother to be careful, before settling in- although not without damaging the inside of his mouth some more. It forced out more blood out, kicking out whatever was left that wouldn’t be useful to this newfound power.

A final deep breath, and Jay felt…

Liberated.

Gone, was the weight that had been caused by his soul and mind shattering and leaving behind too many pieces to carry. His whole body now felt light, lungs freed enough to give him as much space as needed for the air he needed to live.

The power felt lurking in his systems, flowing and giving him feelings he’d never felt before.

It was pure bliss.

After a few minutes, Jay blinked, his vision coming back, although with nothing to muffle it this time. The euphoric sensation slowly escaped him, letting reality settle back in his mind. Feelings of what was around and on him came back, making him tighten his fists.

He felt as though his sweat had drenched all of his clothes, along the blood. His chest kept expanding in grand moves, each breath making his body quiver, as he tried to catch his breath properly, and return oxygen to his brain.

When he did, his head returned to its previous heavy state, with each pulse increasing the pressure at an impossible rate. Yet, this stayed incredibly dull compared to what having worn the mask the first time had felt like.

He opened and closed his mouth, stretching his jaw to check if it hadn’t changed, or if the muscles there hadn’t torn apart. They had certainly felt so. He checked his limbs as well, particularly his hands, by opening and closing them multiple times.

Everything was good, it seemed.

Bringing his hands up, he checked his face, wanting to make sure everything was still there, and if he hadn’t just imagined the mask going inside of his skin.

But he hadn’t. The mask wasn’t here anymore.

He rubbed at his neck, but scratched himself, making him hiss. He looked at his hands.

Claws had grown, there. The gloves hadn’t even torn, having adapted to the new form they had gained. Closing his eyes, he then oversaw how his powers reacted to the newly added strength.

The response was immediate, surge of powers making his body twitch, and forcing him to gasp for air again. Opening back his eyes, he saw these bridges of electricity between his fingers, going all the way to the tip of his fingers, before disappearing, over and over again.

He chuckled, snapping his fingers. It created a small blow, enough to shake his curls. He then got back up, not bothered to look at the people around him, despite the loud whispers. Directing his gaze in front of him, he then aimed for a wall with his fingers, before sending his lightning there.

The stone that made the wall exploded, pieces of wood and rocks flying everywhere in the room, and allowing dust to float freely.

Jay snickered, feeling this happy buzzing inside of him, always here in the aftermath.

Fuck yeah.

He had missed this so much.

…I wonder who thisused to be.

Walking away from the gravestone, he added the wood to the fire he had prepared for the night.

A caravan was in that junkyard, but he didn’t feel like he was allowed to get inside, even if no one was there. No matter how cold it could get in the desert at night, this wasn’t his home, and he was simply there as a guest. He wasn’t even sure why he had traveled all the way here, but by the time he had realized where he had gone to, the sun had been long gone, leaving him with no choice but to set up camp here.

At least this spot was empty. It was a welcoming change compared to the crowded and suffocating places that had been the Administration or staying with the Wolf Clan. Although he had always been on his own in these previous positions, here the loneliness was one much better then what he’d dealt with in these last few years.

Jay hoped that there at least wouldn’t be any wild creatures to attack him. Fighting back without his powers had proven to be more difficult then he had expected. Thankfully, he had kept the gun from his time in the Administration; a great way to defend himself.

He sat on the ground, and looked at the fire crackling in front of his feet, relieving the itch on his face by scratching it as much as he could. No doubt his skin had not only turned red, but with marks left behind as well. Damn it.

…Being without that mask was going to be very hard. It had adapted to his skin- or maybe it had gifted him a second one. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t understand any of this.

All he knew, was that whenever he had been wearing it, even if for a short time, it had been granting him such an incredible thrill that he already knew just couldn’t be compared.

Oh, he had felt like he was on top of the world. As if nothing could’ve ever stopped his powers and him, from getting back at everything that had been unfair to him up to this point.

Now, all he had left were scars. From wearing this cursed mask, and bearing these powers that had never been truly his, but another’s hidden through his own element.

Jay had no idea if he missed the mask, its power, or if this was all caused by how much he missed his lightning.

His eye twitched; he should’ve listened to his urge, in that moment, and killed her. Destroyed her. And now that he hadn’t, the feeling of regret was unbearable.

He wanted to tear at his skin, but he didn’t even have the claws left for that. Only his poorly taken care of nails, dirty and gnawed by his need to relieve his anxiety and surges of powers every time he hadn’t been wearing the mask.

…Jay missed it all, as much as he cursed it all.

Had he not followed Ras, he would have never lost his powers. Had he stayed in the Administration, in this false life of his, he would have never been bothered by flashes and addictions he had never been prepared to face. He would’ve found his own way to his demise, sure, but at least through a path never led by others.

How had any of what I heard so farsounded right? How could I fall for their lies?

Jay frowned, thinking back on what he had listened to again. He didn’t believe them at all. Their fake stories…

Everyone lies. They’re all the same. Great warrior my ass. Jay now didn’t doubt that Ras could’ve lied to him, and it upset him greatly. What for?! To give him hope, and then crush it all in the next moment because of his so called failure? Gah!

He thought back on that woman he had fought. She too, had pretended to know him.

The sweet tone he could remember from her voice made him grit his teeth.

Even if she and her team had been right, why had they never come for him? It had been years. He had found himself all over again, since then.

“Let’s theorize that it was because they had no idea of where I was. Fine.” Jay clenched his fists. “Why didn’t they come get me when I was kicked out?”

His words were barely above a whisper, not even heavy enough to be carried around by the wind.

He stopped moving, forbid himself from flinching, focusing on the sounds of the burning fire so he could shift it as a background noise so his brain wouldn’t have to bother itself with. He then closed his eyes, and just… listened.

Strong wind, making the abandoned metal around him creak softly, and passing through small and tight openings, whistling all around him.

Deep down, he knew he waited for another noise. The snap of a branch, or the crunch of the sand under someone’s shoe that would make his hair bristle in apprehension. The sign that someone would come for him.

So he waited.

Until moments later, silence was still all that answered him.

He cursed, bringing his knees up to hug them, and huddle in a smaller position.

Jay didn’t know what else he had expected. Of course this wouldn’t happen.

He was alone. He’d always be, in the end. And it seemed like… he wasn’t enough. Not enough to make up for the help given to him, nor enough for people that were supposed to care about him to come back and find him. Loneliness was all that awaited him. He understood that.

… And despite feeling like this, he didn’t feel as he thought low he would’ve.

No. Quite the contrary.

Jay was… appeased. After all, that meant he could finally build a life. Even if it wouldn’t be much.

Throughout the years, he had learned that he had to move forward in order to survive. To do as told, and never question what he was ordered to do, or face consequences. Whether it had been the Administration, or Ras’s Wolf Clan.

So now, knowing for sure that no one and nothing was going to hold him back was freeing. Enough to get rid of these incessant thoughts bugging his mind, at least. Yet not quite enough to get rid of that pressure in his stomach.

Because all of this meant that he had nothing. He never had, and he never would. It left him… empty.

At the end of the day, it meant that he was nothing.

He watched the sparks escaping the fire. Like lightning’s, in a sense, but much less volatile, and not as comforting. He followed their trails, until his gaze ended up towards the stars. Had he known their names, a lifetime ago? The paths they traced, and how they never changed?

But it must’ve changed after the Merge. There was no doubt about that. Even something supposed to never be in motion except throughout centuries had completely shifted, no matter how infinite and big it must’ve always felt to him.

Everything had changed.

How was he supposed to find his past self if nothing was the same?

I don’t. That’s how. There was no need to waste time for something so meaningless. At least he hoped.

He sighed, glad to be protected from the chill of the night.

Warmth whenever it was cold was always a better thing. It was a comforting presence he had never admitted to enjoy in front of him. His… his heart kinda regretted that now.

Jay blinked at the dark sky.

…Who-

Something flashed before his eyes, too fast for him to identify what it was. It aimed for him, reaching its target in a millisecond.

Lightning had just struck him.

He shouted, feeling his powers immediately coming back to him, making him fall on his hands and knees.

Fuck. He hated that feeling. The one of his body getting electrocuted by his own life source, because he just couldn’t control it right.

Come on! He hit the ground with his fist, spitting on the grass as he grasped at the insanity of his power. He kept gritting his teeth, until finally, the lightning settled in, and buzzed happily to be back in its rightful place, with its rightful owner.

Jay took a deep breath. Yeah. Missed you too.

Since the start, his lightning had been the only thing there for him. To be reunited with it again brought tears to his eyes, both of joy, and anger.

At having lost them in the first place. At losing them to that damned water ninja.

I love you, Jay. I will always love you.

The memory of the woman’s desperate face flashed back when he shut his eyes to get rid of his tears.

An act. It wasn’t that difficult to pretend emotions after all, was it?

If he ever saw her again… he was pretty sure he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

She hadn’t hesitated to defeat him. Pretty fucked up for someone who was supposed to care, like she wanted him to believe.

Or maybe she’d been following orders, like I was.

Jay shook his head. Whatever the reason, it clearly wouldn’t justify anything. Nor would it tarnish the way his heart dripped hatred into his blood, making him even angrier then before.

The medallion felt heavy in his pocket.

Too heavy, this time.

He took it, and looked at the shape.

…It was a missing piece. He could see that now.

Jay didn’t want to be that. The missing piece of someone instead of being his own person. Of a puzzle he had nothing to do with.

What kind of life could he expect if all he was supposed to be was a pawn placed by others, and never able to have his own free will? The piece in a long chain of supposed important people. Full of important tasks, to serve the greater good of some kind of Great Administration, or a Great Cause of some Delusional Clan.

He’d be no one’s missing piece. No one’s lost part.

He was his own soul. No matter how shattered it felt, and how many little pieces of it were left.

Jay threw the heavy piece in the fire, the weight in his heart never tarnishing during the long time he watched it in the flames, as the moon advanced its course. He stayed that way, holding his limbs tightly against him, while taking deep yet suffocating breaths.

Until, it finally started to melt.

The slightest tint of gold, pearling down as it became a liquid again, and advanced on the darker metal it was attached to.

Never again.

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 16/Feb/2024 

This week was a week of two halves!

At the beginning of the week, around writing, me and Nai tried to get our workspace more under control, lol! With the amount of pieces of paper and scraps to write notes I use, it does tend to get messy rather quickly, and it was seriously time for a cleanup!

But in the process, we discovered a whole bunch of things we can do to help so much!

For example, we found a really old monitor, and Nai suggested I could plug it up as a second monitor and use it to see my variables. That was serious mind-blown moment! :D I’ve been struggling to see and search through my variables printed on paper as there are SO many now, even after trying to clean up my coding.

Whereas with a second screen that should mean I can search through it digitally with ease, and that’s less paper cluttering up the desk too.

Nai also now has a pile of old reference material we found that she will steadily be turning digital—not something the Agency would approve of, but hey, it’s going to be so much easier to find in the future, hehe! ;D

Then amongst all of that, I finished F’s scene and got a start on M’s! F’s flowed really nice and easy, as it usually does, which is such a nice feeling after the back and forth of A’s.

We’ll see how M’s goes. They can also be a bit awkward at times when they don’t want to play ball with a scene, lol! :D Theirs’s also has more variation to it to account for what the MC decides at the beginning of the scene, like with N’s, so need to make sure I get all of that sorted.

But even if things are a bit difficult, I think I should easily get that finished next week, especially with starting it earlier than planned already!

It’s a lot of work adding in different opening scenes, but it’s so worth it, especially as I think it reinforces the feeling that this will be an even more romance-focused book!

Hope you all have the most incredible weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next Friday <3

[plor-bindery]

Bound: Under Giant Mountains by wolfpants

The delightful, evocative, and thoughtful Under Giant Mountains by @wolfpants is up next in my tour of wolf’s fic I bound. This landscape of this fic is soaring: mountains and dragons and wilderness. But at the same time, its subject matter is as small and carefully contained as Harry's postwar pain. This is a Harry who is struggling, and struggling to even admit he's struggling. At the risk of spoiling anything, the way wolf writes Harry's breakdown and surrender is so, so soft and sweet and real. I love a Harry who confronts any danger head-on except the danger of what's going on inside him.

(Fun fact: this fic was posted while I was in the midst of writing Polar Night/Midnight Sun and I was like OH GOOD WOLF HAS DONE THE DRACO IN NORWAY THING AND DONE IT BETTER THAN I COULD, I CAN STOP WRITING NOW but of course, I didn't stop; I let wolf's words inspire me onwards, and this is another reason why I love fandom: the overlapping of writerly worlds, the echoes and resonances we experience as creators and fans.)

For this bind, I chose a relatively simple aesthetic, but couldn't resist inserting little tiny dragons as scene breaks.

More process and materials talk under the cut.

Materials: This was my first go at making bookcloth! I had purchased a little remainder scrap of forest green cotton at the fabric store and only noticed after ironing it out and laminating it to the tissue that there were stripes of sun damage on the creases of the cloth, sigh. I had to start over. I used mulberry tissue but some of the fibres are palpable through the cloth, which I am not wild about. Still -- homemade bookcloth! Fun!

Text block is printed on 24 lb cream letter cut down to a quarto bind, and is actually the first bind I did where my grain direction was correct. (I know, I know...) Sewn on two linen tapes with waxed linen thread.

Endbands (which I neglected to photograph, apparently) are machine made.

End papers are just scrapbook paper, nothing special.

The decoration is gold HTV. Hoo boy. More on that shortly.

Process: My first quarto bind! First bookcloth making! First bind with the grain direction correct! So many firsts!

That being said, there was nothing particularly special about this bind's process. My biggest struggle (which is visible) was the gold HTV. I think I've since cracked the code more on how to apply larger bits of HTV without making marks in it (short version: higher heat, less pressure, more patience) but I was still struggling here, as you can see. That being said, I do love the sort of hobbity vibe of the rune-ish font and the dragon/mountain.

I made myself a copy of this as a test first, and the HTV is even more messed up on that. :| Also, I realized when reading it afterwards, I fucked up the page order in one signature. This is fixed (god, I hope it's fixed) in wolf's copy.

Signature length is a tricky thing with case binding/sewn binding in general. I wound up needing a bunch of blank pages at the back of the typeset so I did something I have since done in other binds: added a "selected praise for" section where I copy/pasted AO3 comments into the text block like literary reviews. I love this so much: the juxtaposition of the formal literary trope with the squee and all-caps and hype of fandom commenters. I am not the first to do this, of course, but you'll see it appear again in future binds from me for sure. (And of course I put my own comment first. OF COURSE I did. Binder's privilege!)

[luxuki-1]

Like I said I would, I'm going to go through the details I hid in my recent FNAF painting. Not because anyone asked, but because I want to and I'm proud of everything put in

1. Michael's design is my own! I've pretty much had the same concept for the design since SB came out. I just really liked the idea of having part of his jaw missing for no particular reason other than it looks cool. But, I have since moved the jaw gap to the other side, as well as defining scars and wrinkles.

2. I've already posted Golden Freddy but here he is again. I redrew the original poster since I really didn't feel like I just should just slap the original on there. Since I had that freedom now, I decided to make references in the design to later games since it is appearing as a hallucination(?) to Michael. Obviously there are blood stains around the mouth to reference The Bite of '83 and I also added tear stains to reference Evan/CC, said victim of the bite.

3. The classic "Celebrate!" poster. The same thing with Golden Freddy, I didn't feel like I should copy and paste the original so I drew it myself, but this time I only drew the bottom half of the crew since you'd only see that part anyway. Maybe one day I'll fully recreate the poster but for now, this is it lol (You may also notice that I gave each of them different leg shapes, to make them more distinguished from each other other than just colour)

4. And again, didn't want to just copy and paste, so I re-typed all of the newspaper clippings myself in Canva. They say pretty much the same thing as the originals, but I'll still put them here anyway in case anyone wants to take a look:

5. I also recreated the children's drawings myself. Fun fact: I actually used my NON-dominant hand to draw most the basic shapes. I figured that if I drew with my dominant hand, the lines might look too clean, showing my obvious years experience. It's silly but I really wanted it to look and feel like a child drew it

6. It ends up being pretty much invisible in the final painting, but on the floor you can see old confetti and blood stains on the tiles

7. If it wasn't obvious; cup from the Security office is here too

8. Now it should it obvious by now that I chose to not draw the security office. Why you ask? I'm still new to drawing more detailed backgrounds, and I really didn't feel like drawing the office in the moment lol so I opted for the hallway, and I think it still looks pretty good with what I was going for

9. As a bonus, here's the original sketch I planned out. As you can see, I was originally planning to have more posters, some featuring the missing children. But in the end, I decided to scrap it and leave room for the wall to be more detailed since I thought it looked bare. Also, if you look closely, you can see a faint plan for a shadow over Mike. I was originally planning to put a shadow of Freddy there, but when I really started finishing up the shading, I realised that the extra shadow would be too much for an already dimly lit scene

And that's pretty much everything! I had so much fun doing all the little details and references, even though it did end up being more time consuming lol. I also tried out a bunch of different rendering techniques and I think they really helped pulled everything together. I'm definitely going to try my hand and making more paintings like this in the future ^^

If interested in seeing the full process, here's a link to the speed-paint:

[tendebill]

just for funsies, here's the original sketches for the stanley "world's greatest actor" animatic :] i got a lot of positive feedback on it and i thought i'd share what the 1st draft looked like!

some parts were moved around/timed differently. i added a lot of transitions i wasnt planning on originally. there are also one or two (?) scenes i scrapped/reframed completely for clarity's sake or to make them more interesting... yea, a bunch of stuff :> obviously the final bow scene was the main reason why i even made this so it looks largely the same!

[thelostgirl21]

I've finally finished making all the adjustments to my Jaskier costume!

Full disclosure, I started with a pre-made Jaskier costume, i.e. this one:

I bought a man's XL size (because I figured it would be easier to "shrink it" than discover the costume I'd ordered was too small).

Then, completely unstitched the jacket and the vest apart, cut each piece to fit my own size, put it all back together, split the back panel into two panels instead, added rivets on the side panels and made sure they went all around the collar, the jacket ornaments/clasps (I'm lucky enough to have a friend with a 3D printer, and to have bought the pattern before the store on Etsy moved... I wanted to link it here, but it's no longer available!), and, of course, the underarms slits with the laces!

a.k.a. The one detail that had my partner looking at me in utter disbelief asking "Are you serious?! Who is going to be paying attention to your underarms?!

Ah, me. I'll know! If I've kept hyperfocusing on that specific detail of the jacket ever since Yennefer hugged him, you bet I'd notice if my jacket was missing the laced slits!

(Plus, let's face it, given how that shirt's fabric is very synthetic and not at all breathable, I've a feeling I'll be grateful for the underarms openings!)

Oh, yeah, and I made the lute with a bunch of scraps I had lying around (including half dried out fabric paint) for a dance number back in 2021.

And for little impulsive shits like me that enjoy cutting corners...

If you want to quickly color PLA 3D models in the laziest fashion, a permanent Sharpie marker will give good results in terms of covering / color intensity, and then you can fix that color using "Mod Podge" (I used one with the matte finish).

And yes, I'm 100% aware you're supposed to sand your 3D models, but I loved the look of those "tiny stripes" on it, so I've kept them (also, lazy impulsive little shit... That'll take the time to add laced underarms slits to her coat, but can't be bothered to properly sand and paint those clasps! Don't question me!).

Now, back to Radovid...

[silkscreaming]

I made a volume 10 trimax vash cosplay for MAGfest and I am SO proud of how it came out :) Some process stuff below! Warning for image and text heavy.

Truthfully this cos is only about 85% complete—I’d purchased a bunch of hardware to really go in on a volume accurate version of his undersuit and belts, but simply ran out of time before the con. It was the first cosplay I’ve sewn since 2017 and the first wig styling I’ve done since 2020, so I’m not gonna beat myself up too much!

(This is all purse hardware off Etsy and some buttons from M&J trim)

This was my first time ever making a muslin mock-up, but I knew it was going to be necessary to get the coat to lay the way I wanted it to. I really wanted to try and create proportions that elongated the legs/torso and widened the shoulders by placing the coat tail splits appropriately and raising up the shoulders with some padding. And of course arm and leg details that I’ll get to someday lol.

I created two mock-ups. One of basic muslin that helped me go from an existing pre-bought pattern to something more Vash-shaped, then a second one on a slightly sturdier scrap fabric with my finalized torso proportions with padding so I could accurately pattern out the sleeves and collar.

I was tracing my pattern pieces onto newsprint and vellum as I went, so once all of those were finalized, it was time to cut my fabric! I used a heavy cotton twill from B&J fabrics and two kinds of fusible interfacing from Mood (I’m spoiled by being local to the fashion district these days). A smarter person would have bought a thinner fabric to line the inner torso with, but I did not feel like getting that complicated with my first ever muslin-drafted AND lined project, so I simply cut double of every pattern piece in order to create a lining.

Sleeves were done by interfacing and cutting into a top panel, carefully snipping at the cutout portions, ironing and fabritacking in place, and then top stitching the whole piece to the main sleeve. I later added some leather backing squares and interfacing behind the larger eyelets for aesthetic while keeping the ventilation in tact. Ideally in the future I'll also add a strip of fabric to the gun arm that creates a slight bunching effect since that sleeve is a little more ruffled over the cuff. Photos below also include three shoulder pads pinned together on each shoulder, but I ended up forgetting not using them on my final wear.

Unfortunately at this point I was approaching con time, so I started cutting some corners that I made easily replaceable for future upgrades. The coat tabs are just painted craft foam cut to the size of the buttons, tacked in place where the button pierces through the tab and where it wraps around the edge of the front panel. The straps that attach to the lapel and wrap under the arms also were just decorated with some silver trim instead of hardware, and I skipped the side button panels at his hips for pattern-making simplicity and time. They'll be added later! I'd also love to do some weathering, but don't think I can quite bring myself to riddle the coat tails with bullet holes as some people do haha.

Gun arm attachment was also a quick and dirty addition, just some vinyl trim on eva foam attached with contact cement and a decorative button. First time working with contact cement somehow, but I look forward to also being able to upgrade this at a later date to a more accurate shape with the full belt attachments!

I was also hoping to update the shoes a bit by making some boot covers for them and rub-n-buffing the soles to disguise the platform a bit, but I love my pick for the cleat-look that Vash has! Some good ol' Demonias in classic vash fashion :)

Last but not least: The Wig. My pride and joy.

I got lucky enough to nab an Arda sale, I think right before Halloween, and picked up the Morpheus lace front in black, along with some extra wefts in pale blonde. (I also bought a whole separate pale blonde Morpheus wig, boldly thinking I could swing a normal trimax vash wig lol. It made for a convenient Eriks wig in the mean time.)

Since I was aiming for the end of volume 10 post-Wolfwood death look, I started by trying on the wig, roughly tracing out my hairline, then gently unweaving that portion of black in order to re-ventilate it with blonde.

After I replaced that whole strip of plucked hair, I tried on again to finalize where I needed to ventilate to cover my own hairline, and completed my outline with both blonde and brown-black wefts (i had them on hand lol). All in all, I ventilated more than 4 square inches of blonde, and at least a solid centimeter extension of the black hairline across the whole front of the wig. Probably close to 30 hours of work in the ventilating alone, but I am a little slow since I haven't ventilated in a few years and didn't keep clear track of time.

If there's one thing I should be used to by now about Arda wigs, they are THICK. There is zero teasing in this wig. None. Just got2b, a blowdryer, and a prayer. And a good load of bobby pins. The wig was also sadly a last minute hotel room mad dash, and I do hope to restyle it under less duress, but I do think I successfully achieved the Trimax swoop and am very proud of it! It was unbelievably windy on the walk from our hotel room to MAGfest, so the photos in the start of this post show a bit more droop than my initial styling, but I think I'll be able to touch things up next wear.

And of course, shoutout to my partner for gifting me the official glasses for Christmas :) And thank you to my roommates who barely saw me for a month and a half except for when I needed help with a hem lol.

All in all, I am unbelievably proud of this cosplay, I can't wait to put some more love into it and wear it again!

[bruisedboys]

hey, congrats!! totally deserved AND your celly theme is super cute!! So so so sorry this is super long

SPIDERHEAD, drabbles ─── send in a thought/headcanon you have about a character and I’ll expand on it in a drabble!

This is totally self indulgent but!! Hobie is such a craft guy. It’s totally punk, obviously, DIY that shit!! He maybe won’t call them dates out loud, because labels or something, but he invites you on crafting dates, he’s got boxes of materials and trinkets—beads, buttons, bottle caps, sewing supplies, glue, you name it. Crafting dates are the greatest because making things with/for people you really like can be so intimate

I’ve also been spending my last few days making pins, and tonight, I accidentally sliced my fingertips with an exacto—I think Hobie’s crafting supplies and his suspiciously well-stocked first aid supplies are near eachother for convenience when crafting and totally not because he has a super secret spider-man alter ego

no because ur so right anon

hobie brown is such a crafty guy!!!! you would think he thinks it’s lame and nerdy cos he’s such a cool guy but honestly he thinks it’s totally punk. he for sure is always cutting up his clothes, adding pins to them, making them look better and more unique because why would you want to dress the same as everyone else? he has a bunch of unfinished projects around his place, a vest he was adding patches to or a pair of jeans he was drawing spiderwebs all over in permanent marker but never got round to finishing. sometimes he’ll buy something just for the sake of cutting it up and ruining it (aka, making it better).

when he finds out you’re into crafts too — maybe he compliments a piece of jewellery you’re wearing and you beam, all thanks!! I made it!!! — hobie is immediately smitten. he’s like woah! that’s sick, can you teach me? (cos he’s totally smooth like that. he’s been watching you from across the pub all night and this is the perfect excuse for a ‘date’), and of course you say yes — if a pretty boy like hobie is asking to spend time with you you’re not gonna deny him.

you end up going to his place, and you bring some of your own supplies of course, but he surprisingly already has so. much. stuff. beads and wire, buttons and string, scraps of fabric, a janky old sewing machine that was probably second-hand but it does the job!! you teach him how to make earrings and you both end up making a whole bunch of them and then when you’re done he gives you his favourite pair, claiming pretty jewellery needs a pretty face to go with it :))

after that, craft dates become a regular thing with you and him. you make all sorts of things together, taking turns teaching each other the skills you already have. or sometimes you’ll be doing your own separate projects but in the same room, hobie’s music playing in the corner while he works on a pair of patchwork jeans and you work on a crochet top. after a few of these ‘dates’, hobie asks you out with a handmade necklace that holds one of his guitar picks on the chain. of course you say yes and keep the necklace forever and ever!!!!

also yes he absolutely has a first aid kit on hand. not so much for himself, usually when he cuts himself or pokes himself with a sewing needle he’ll just let it bleed lmao. but once you start coming over more he’ll make sure it’s always fully stocked. and when you hurt yourself, even if it’s just a tiny paper cut or something, he’ll dote on you, kiss it better, and wrap it in a spiderman bandaid <3