#also STRUGGLING on picking a name for batty
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The fact that this is
The amount of notes on my comic about a little bat is…..
Insanity.
I will kiss every one of you on the mouth!!!!¡¡¡ I’ll do it!!!
I really really appreciate the support and love, and I’m drawing more bat comic, but just….. sincerely thank you for all the lovely tags and comments and reposts and likes….just thank you. I’ve never experienced this kind of attention before, it’s all a little unreal.
I’m already drawing part 2 because I can’t stop thinking about it, but it might take a bit more time, so just hang in there. Meanwhile as I’m working on it, have a snip bit:
It’s batty, and batty is fine, batty is being healed! And batty will be here soon🤍
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#balders gate 3#bg3 fanart#my art#bg3 the pale bat#the pale bat#currently like 20% done on part 2 maybe#I don’t want to spoil anything so won’t be posting too much snips#also STRUGGLING on picking a name for batty#so much struggle#I suck at naming#but I’ll get there eventually
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐒 / 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Batty! Though some people might know me as Dolly and Rose too. But Batty is preferred
𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘: February 3rd
𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍: Aquarius
𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 5’2..... fellow shortie.....
𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒: Writing, drawing, some gaming, legos, I also like doing general crafting!
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑: Surprising nobody, purple!
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊: I really loved the Percy Jackson books growing up!
𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: Chilly Down from Labyrinth
𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 / 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖: Last movie I really sat down and watched was.... that new animated ultraman movie on netflix I think?? I liked it! And the last show... do gaming playthroughs count? Watching a Deltarune one currently.
𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃: ya boi struggles to read books anymore, I just read the beautiful replies between my rp partners qwq
𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Not to be sappy on main but you you all tbh. This has become the best time I've had in the rpc in a long time. I love it here!!
𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐔𝐑𝐋: It's actually the name of Age's business and the sign over his tent says Fortune & Feather!
𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓: I'm really good at picking ripe fruit. Like... really good.
tagged by: @bloodtwin tagging: YOU...
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi, I want you to know that "living in a lunar spell" lives fully rent free in my head.
so much so that I either dreamed or hallucinated that chapter 6 had been uploaded a couple days ago. I was fully convinced it actually happened lol
then when I went to go read it just now I was severely disappointed to find that it was a figment of my imagination lmao
Okay this is actually so sweet I wanna cry 🥹
But then I want to cry for you cause chapter 6 still isn't done 😬 I had a bad cocktail of writers block, procrastination, busy real life, and writing for two holiday exchanges that got in the way of my plan to post one chapter a week.
All I can promise at this point is that I'm working on it, and it'll get posted as soon as it's done!
For now, here's a long snippet of a scene I first jotted down the idea for months ago. Our boy Dustin is home from camp!!
👐💌🦇 🍦
“Again, Batty? Really?” Dustin says with the most sour-puss judgmental expression on his stupid little face. “Yeah? So what, dude, I didn’t know what to call him! That seemed like the simplest thing.” Steve adds, looking pointedly at Robin. “Rather than giving him an actual name like a pet, or something.” Robin doesn’t need to know that he already considers Batty his pet and he’s not planning on getting rid of him any time soon. Dustin sends him a flat look, “Steve, come on, literally anything else would be better.” “I’m inclined to agree with our weird little friend here,” Robin interjects. “You really couldn’t do better, Harrington?” Steve throws his arms up, “I’ve never had to name a pet before, sue me!” He points at Dustin, “This is rich coming from a kid with a cat called Mews…oh wait, it’s Tews now, isn’t it? How original.” Dustin glares at him, “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Steven. And my mom named them, do you want me to tell my mom that you don’t like what she named her cats? I think she’d be less inclined to have you over for dinner again.” “Alright, alright, pulling out the big guns.” Steve says, raising his hands in surrender. “What about D’Art though? What in the hell kind of name is that, Henderson?” “What about it? D’Artagnan is a perfectly respectable name,” defends Dustin, voice going squeaky. “Where the heck did you pick that up? It’s nonsense,” snipes Steve. “D'Artagnan is the protagonist in The Three Musketeers,” Robin answers matter-of-factly, and Dustin gestures to her. “See! Common knowledge, not my fault you’ve never read a book in your life.” “Hey!” Steve protests. He knows Dustin is being a little shit, that he doesn’t really mean it like that cause he doesn’t know that Steve struggles with reading and has always been kind of sensitive about it. Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a breath, “Fine, we can rename Batty…how about,” he snaps, “Henderson what were those little teddy bear guys from Star Wars called? He’s cute like one of those.” “They’re called Ewoks. Seriously Steve, do you not pay attention? And how many times do I have to tell you that it’s Episode VI: Return of the Jedi,” Dustin snarks, continuing to try Steve’s patience. The attitude of this kid, Jeez. “Fine, so we’ll call him Ewok then.” Robin snorts, “Ewok is their race, not their actual name.” “Fine! You two pick a name then!” Steve says, exasperated it’s easier to just let them have their way sometimes. Batty is his and he’ll call him whatever he wants when they’re alone anyway.
Hope that holds you over Anon, and takes away the sting of Chapter 6 not being done yet!
👋 also hi, hello, if you're reading this and you're new here and want to read the fic you can find Chapters 1-5 available on ao3 here:
Living In A Lunar Spell 🦇🍦
#ask mojowithcraft#living in a lunar spell#mojowitchcraft fics#bat eddie#bat eddie munson#steve harrington#robin buc#robin buckley#dustin henderson#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fic rec
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Once Upon A Miraculous - Part 2
Ok before we even get into the story here’s yet another warning to think twice before you continue. Jason dies. He dies in a gruesome, traumatizing event and even though I think I went over it very lightly I still think it’s pretty fucking graphic. I’m the writer and I. Had. To. Fucking. Stop. And take a break before I could continue with the story.
Violence and the results it can have on the body ahead. Madness from the pit and angst from hurt feeling of being replaced ahead. For the last time. You’ve all been warned so read at your own risk.
I’m going to trust that you all know your headspace well enough and for those that choose to read anyways? Thank you for going on this journey with me. I hope the falls between here and the end are worth the river journey and the lake we reach at the end (yes those are f*ing metaphors. I’m feeling philosophical at the moment)
Previous Masterpost list
————————————
“It’s me Nettie. I’m alive”
****************************
Jason was 14 years old when he met the Batman. He came across an unwatched batmobile. The tires on it could be sold for more than the average car and he had the tools on him.
One last check and he got to work. He was already thinking about the things he could buy for himself and his street siblings that he forgot the number one rule. Always keep a lookout.
The Batman caught him red handed with three wheels off and the fourth half done. After being forced to return the wheels to the car Jason was taken to the underground batcave. He met Alfred and the unmasked Batman. Bruce “fucking billionaire” Wayne.
Less than a month later he’s living in the manor and has been “adopted”. He doesn’t trust it. Rich men don’t want son’s and there are too many kids with stories about the horrors that “nice family’s” hide behind closed doors. But he’s got a roof over his head and food in his stomach. If Wayne thinks that will be enough to buy him he’s going to find out how wrong he was.
Jason starts small at first. If he can just get the man angry enough to throw him out he won’t have to worry about being brought back. Setting all the alarms in the house and making them unfixable was a bit of a challenge. Seeing Bruce’s face when he changed the passwords was brilliant.
It continued that way for a few months until Bruce finally decided if Jason was gonna be a little shit he could learn to fight better instead. Jason decided that if he was going to learn to fight he would take over the abandoned Robin role too.
Dick was not happy. The first time Jason got to meet the man was after he was seen as Robin. He came to the manor and yelled at Bruce, saying he had no right to give his costume and name to someone else. Jason listened from the second story.
As angry as the two men got neither came to blows over it. Dick ended the fight by storming out and he put the older hero on radio silence for months after but neither had any injuries from their disagreement. If Jason had ever even looked at his old man funny as a kid he would have a black eye and welts on his back to show for it.
Maybe Bruce could be trusted after all?
****************************
At 15 years old Bruce is engaged to Selina Kyle. Their on again off again thing as hero and thief where they danced around each other had been driving Jason and Alfred batty. It was nice to see them actually settle into their thing as each challenged the other and kept them on their toes.
When Selina said she was going to be spending the summer with the daughter of an old schoolmate of hers Jason didn’t think much of it. He knew she had a legit degree she used to assess the potential spoils of her criminal activities.
He arrived at Wayne Enterprises a little early for their lunch meeting. Bruce had told him they’d meet in the lobby so after greeting the receptionists he looked for a place to sit. In one of the chairs facing the doors a small girl looked up at the windows before going back to her book and writing something. No she was probably drawing with long pencil strokes like that.
Curious he walked over to see if he could look at her drawing. He could see what looked like an image of the stained glass windows on the page but the lines through them gave it a softer, almost flowing shape. Which was weird cause glass wouldn’t follow those lines.
“What are you drawing?” He found himself asking her.
She jumped so he’d obviously surprised her. His thoughts were captured by her bright blue eyes. In the light coming from those stained glass windows she’d been admiring they almost seemed to glow.
She said she was designing a dress while she waited for her guardian and the fiancé to return. This must be Selina’s friends daughter.
Lunch was a fun affair where the girl shared she would be designing costumes for Jagged stone to wear during his concert tour this summer. She would stay with Selina in Gotham from Monday to Thursday while she designed and created clothes she would fly to whatever city Jagged was playing in from Thursday to Sunday to be on hand during the concerts for any costume repairs that would be needed.
Bruce volunteered Jason to show Marinette around the city since it wouldn’t be safe for her to be alone. Jason agrees because it’s summer break and he likes the Marinette he talked stained glass windows with and wonders what other beauty she will see in his dark city.
**
He is breathless by the beauty she sees all around her. The joy and happiness she shines as easily as she breathes. Everyone she meets becomes a new friend. Even the tamer of the Rogues and the Siren’s who meet her are enthralled by her smile and her charm.
Kissing her was a completely spontaneous action. He had thought about it for weeks by then but she had said there was a guy back home she sort of still had a crush on though she wasn’t happy with how they wanted to deal with the liar situation. So he was resigned to keeping his budding feelings to himself so that he could see her happy.
It had been the night of the last concert. Jagged had Marinette come on stage where he officially introduced her as his designer and the creator of all the tour costumes to the world. She had beamed with a smile so wide that when she threw herself into Jason’s arms after walking off stage he had just pulled back and placed a kiss on her lips.
He froze when he realized what he did. Marinette had stood on her tiptoe to start their second kiss.
For a week they were blissfully happy and free with their affection. Multiple paparazzi got pictures of them holding hands, kissing each other or just cuddling when they were waiting. Jasonette and the Sunshine of Gotham blew up on social media.
Saying goodbye to her was a really hard thing to do. So Jason went shopping for something he could give her to remember him by. They had decided they would try a long distance thing but he was afraid it wouldn’t be enough. If they did fall apart from distance he wanted something she could use to always fondly remember the summer fling they had.
It was perfect. He knew it might be impractical but he was convinced that it would be the perfect gift for her someday.
************************
They made it work. They had talked everyday and he spent every chance he could in France with her. He met her parents and they met Bruce as well. Marinette had her school situation resolved following her return.
He was proud of her for sticking up for herself when all her classmates seemed ready to abandon the liar just because Marinette had a connection they could use again. Nathaniel, Rose and Juleka were all artsy like Marinette and he could see how their creative energies inspired each other and themselves.
He was a week away from his departure to spend the summer in France with Marinette and her family when it happened. A false lead led to his capture by the Joker.
(Begin Angst)
The first break hurt but it was bearable. He had broken bones before. His bio dad had broken them frequently when he was still alive. The fifth hurt as bad. He also had a concussion and several burns at that time as well.
What felt like days, weeks, years... minutes?, passed in a haze as he jerked with every new hit. He was a mess from vomit, blood, piss and shit when his body couldn’t follow his commands any longer.
He held to the belief that Batman would come for him. That his father could still save him.
When the Joker left, Jason was lying on the concrete floor looking at the bomb countdown. He knew he had to get out of there, he pushed his battered body past the point he could feel pain and struggled to the door. He pulled on it but it wouldn’t open. The rattle of chains on the other side told him why.
He collapsed to the floor, tears streaming as he watched the numbers countdown.
10, 9, 8...
I’m sorry Alfred.
7, 6, 5,...
I’m sorry Bruce.
4, 3,...
I’m sorry Nettie.
2, 1,
I love...
(End Angst)
He was only 16. He would never see 17.
***************************
It was dark. It was small. It was hard to breathe. He was in some kind of box. He screamed and hit the walls around him trying to get out, trying to find some air.
It surprised him when cold pieces fell from above him. It had a new smell. He focused his determination on that spot. More of the new thing came down into his cage. He pushed it away from him and continued. There. Briefly a breath of clean, fresh air.
With new determination he pushed harder towards the life giving air. He was able to pull his head and shoulders out of the box. He rested for a moment swallowing greedy gulps of air into his starved lungs. When he was able to continue he pulled himself from the ground and looked around. As far as his eye could see were stones standing from the ground around him and beyond those trees and underbrush fading into shadows.
He picked a direction at random and began to walk.
**
It was familiar. Grab an item, run. The actions came without conscious memory. The streets were cold but he was big enough to scare off the worst of the predators. There were a few small people, kids, that came to him for protection from the bigger people. He did what he could but it never seemed to be enough he thought, as he stood over another small, broken body.
“I can give you a way to protect them.”
He looked up. She was beautiful but her eyes were cold. Empty and unfeeling. But she had promised to give him a way to protect the little ones. He was willing to try anything for that power.
What was his name? How old was he? He didn’t know.
****************************************
Jason.
He remembered his name as he lunged from the sickly green waters that Talia had led him to. He remembered Bruce, his father, but he didn’t save him from the Joker. He remembered the Jokers laughter ringing in his ears as he stood over another broken child on the streets. And the new shadow following the shape of the Batman when he was an amnesiac wandering the streets of Gotham.
He had been REPLACED!! He fumed. The anger and resentment over Bruces inability to save him, to avenge him and his replacing him as if Jason meant nothing, festered and boiled in his mind.
When he left the League of Shadows his only plan was to go back to Gotham and get revenge for his own death and to hurt his so called father as badly as he could. If Jason meant so little to him then he would show how little Bruce meant to him.
**
(Mild violence ahead)
Their first reunion was in a fight over drug dealers selling heroin to kids. Jason looked directly at the bat, pulled his gun and shot the dealers in the forehead.
(Violence over)
“These are my streets now. I won’t tolerate kids getting hurt on my watch.”
He disappeared before Batman could restrain him.
For weeks they danced around. Batman trying to catch him and Jason using every trick he learned from the Bat himself to avoid him.
Blood flowed freely from the wicked and the corrupt. He was a villain in his own right bringing judgement and execution down upon the criminals of Gotham.
Batman always appealed to the better side of him, to stop his madness. Didn’t he understand that part died? The child that trusted in heroes to protect the innocent died at the hands of a monster. A monster that his father couldn’t chase away.
The RedHood was risen from the pits and unleashed upon the evil of Gotham.
He was 18 years old.
******************************
Months of their back and forth dynamic between RedHood and Batman passed. The Batman couldn’t arrest the RedHood but the RedHood couldn’t stop tweaking his cape to get a reaction.
Didn’t he care? Wasn’t he going to stop him? He was doing everything wrong so why wouldn’t Bruce do the same for him that he did for all the other criminals in Gotham?
It was when Jason had the Joker at the business end of a gun that he got his answers.
“Don’t do it Hood,” Bruce pleaded. “It will change you beyond what you can come back from if you do.”
“I’ve already killed, B,” his words caught as he gasped, fighting back tears of rage. “My hands are dripping in blood.
He laughed madly then, “‘Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?’ Who knew that bitch knew what she was talking about.”
“It’s the madness that’s done it Hood. You’ve barely held control before. But you’re fighting the killing urge and directing it to those that do deserve it.”
“And yes,” he interrupted before Jason could argue, “no one deserves it more than Joker for what he’s done to you. But if you do it then the madness will win. Please I can’t lose my son again,” he begged.
“WHY DOES THAT MATTER NOW?!” Jason screamed. “He killed me. I was dead in the ground and you let him walk. WHY COULDN’T YOU KILL HIM?! AM I THAT MEANINGLESS TO YOU!?!!”
“I COULDN’T!” Bruce yelled back. “If I killed him I wouldn’t be able to stop killing. It wouldn’t just be the Joker that died, it would be every criminal in Gotham who dared step out of line. I wanted to. I still want to. He took my son from me but I know that once I start I won’t be able to stop. I’m sorry that I’m so weak, but I couldn’t.”
The Batman, no Bruce Wayne, stood before him, head bowed in defeat as he admitted to his greatest shame.
Jason looked away before dropping the gun and walking away. He knew Bruce would take the Joker back to Arkham so he just needed to get away and think.
**
They worked to build their relationships anew. He couldn’t be the son Bruce remembered anymore, too much had changed, but he could be the son he was today. He could do what he could for the Replacement and make sure the kid didn’t get himself killed on the streets. The girl that joined them got the same measure of protection though she was better able to defend herself.
When he finally let go of thoughts of revenge he could think about a time when a stray spark of living Sunshine found its way to cold, grey Gotham. He finally looked up news of Marinette to see how she was doing. He broke down and cried when her wedding announcement to the son of a Parisian fashion house was the first thing to pop up.
Selina, Bruce and Alfred all encouraged him to take a trip to France anyways to get some closure, to say goodbye. But he refused, the smile in her eyes as she looked at her new husband in the picture convinced him that she was happy. And that was all he ever wanted for her, even if it couldn’t be him giving the her the world.
He was 19 years old when he made peace with his past.
****************************
He was 20 years old when news of the villain Hawkmoth and his defeat hit the international press. He was livid to realize that his beloved Nettie had been in so much danger just living in a city that should have been safe. That the Justice League had done nothing when the citizens pleaded for help.
It felt like the period after his revival in the pit as he stormed the halls of the WatchTower. His vision was in various shades of red and his thoughts just kept turning back to how Marinette might have been killed in one of the villain’s monster attacks. Hell, she probably did die once or twice only to be revived by the hero’s magic.
If he ever got to meet LadyBug he would shower her in appreciation for defending the city his Nettie lived in.
The door crashed and nearly fell off the hinges when he threw it open and stormed through into the Leagues council room.
“RedHood,” Batman said calmly as he stalked up to the table.
Slamming his hands down and leaning over the collected heroes he asked what he’d wanted to since the news broke.
“Who. Screwed. Up?”
“When footage of the attacks first reached the League, investigations were done. No lasting damage was left from the attacks so it was written off as a publicity stunt and subsequent messages were ignored,” Batman explained. “It was a phone operator that fielded these calls. They went based off the assessment done by the League and deleted them.”
“She could have died B. I was dead and couldn’t do anything but you should have been keeping an eye on her. You know what she means to me.”
Batman nodded, “I should have. The messages never reached me but I should have been keeping a watch on her regardless of that.”
“You’re going to make amends to those heroes for ignoring them,” Jason stated. “All of you are,” he added, including the other heroes in the room in his statement.
“Yes,” Batman agreed.
Jason jerked his head in a nod and left the room. Going back to the cave where he can do his own check and make sure Marinette was safe.
********************************
It wasn’t just the League that failed Marinette. Jason knew he was as much to blame. If he had gone to Paris? If he had seen her? If he had told her he was alive? Would she have suffered under Hawkmoth? If, if, if.
News of the divorce of up and coming fashion designer MDC and the son of the fashion mogul and former villain Adrian Agreste hit airwaves like lightning. In the beginning people claimed it was Marinette who left because of Hawkmoth’s identity. Adrian was fast to shut that down and own that he was the one to ask for the divorce for personal reasons. With what seemed to be an amicable break up the world turned its attention to the next sound bite.
He’d failed her again. Jason just sat by his empty grave as he cried when he learns about it. He argues with Alfred and Selina when they bring up him visiting Paris afterwards. This time Bruce supports his decision. He doesn’t approve and lets Jason know it, but he supports him.
Returning to the cave after patrol, Jason was the last to arrive. He didn’t know why everyone was gathered by the computer so he went to take a look. He didn’t hear what Alfred said as he walked over. Momentarily blinded by the helmet as he removed it, he froze when he finally saw what, no who, had his family’s attention.
She had grown since their first meeting, not in height but in maturity. She had traded the fun pigtails for an elegant braid, and jeans for a sundress obviously of her own design.
“Hi, Monsieur Alfred introduced the others but I haven’t gotten your name yet. I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she introduces herself as if she were meeting a stranger for the first time.
It hurt his heart that she would do that with him, though he realizes why she did. She didn’t know. She couldn’t know that it was him under the mask.
The words wouldn’t come though when he tried to find them and tell her. He finally settled for showing her, hoping she would believe her eyes.
After she gasped in reaction to his reveal he thought maybe his approach was a bit boneheaded after all. Nothing to do but go forward from there though.
“It’s me Nettie. I’m alive.”
Marinette teared up but instead of breaking down and crying she ran to him and jumped into his arms. Burying her face in his neck she just murmured “You’re alive” over and over.
“Yeah,” he admitted. He held her as tightly as he dared. A little worried he might hurt her by accident.
When she pulled away he reluctantly let her go but it was worth it.
She gave him the biggest smile and he saw it again.
He was 21 years old and the sun was shining in cold, grey Gotham once more.
————————————
So I really got into the structure I used for the first chapter and exuded to use the same for this one. They end at different ages because Jason’s a few months older and this happened in that in between time (the real reason is sections were getting too busy so I add another year to his story. How do I rationalize it? Well birthdays are a thing so there you go).
I hope everyone enjoyed this wild ride. I do plan to do an epilogue chapter but that will have to wait until next weekend. Anyone have any ideas you can send it to me.
@pepelachanel @mellownieice @kris-pines04 @zebrabaker @two-faced-biatch @vixen-uchiha @mandy984 @shamefullove @mycupisbroken @dawnwave16 @abrx2002 @mochinek0 @tbehartoo @fertileleaf @thanks-captain-obvious @ravennightingaleandavatempus @hinata3487 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @zalladane @dast218 @miraculous786 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @moonlightstar64 @mooshoon @ladybug182 @iggy-of-fans @legendaryneckjudgestudent @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @finallyaniguana @tog84 @mystery-5-5 @evil-elf16
#jasonette#marinette x jason#violence and angst#extreme violence#torture aftermath#angst#madness#DLDR#dead dove don’t eat#I’ve warned you multiple times so don’t come at me#violence
244 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Mirabile Visue
Summary: Sister Agatha Van Helsing discovers she’s in over her head when a competitive game of chess ultimately results in her becoming pregnant with the child of her worst enemy, Count Dracula. Now tied by a bond deeper than blood, the two must learn to coexist and adapt in a world that could be potentially hostile towards their offspring. Parenthood has never looked so batty.
Characters: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing
Chapters: 4/6
Read on FFN and AO3
A/N: I want to briefly apologize. I want to stretch this fic out by adding an extra chapter to this story. I know I said this fic would only be five chapters long, but I have some stuff planned that I felt deserved it's own chapter and not be squeezed into this installment. So there will be two chapters after this chapter, not just one, making the fic a total of six chapters in length. With that out of the way, I must say you folks are truly wonderful! Thank you so much for your feedback! It means the world, it honestly does! I don't want to take up too much of your time talking, so bring on the next chapter! Also shout out to @mitsukatsu on tumblr who's been a true inspiration to me through her fabulous artwork (and allowing me to brainstorm ideas). -Jen
Chapter Four
Varna, Bulgaria
The Demeter
"You've been having a manor built in Yorkshire and never once considered asking my thoughts on it in the slightest?"
Agatha glowered at Dracula as she tucked away more articles of clothing into her bag. Sorina sat on the edge of her mother's bed, completely unaware of the anger aimed at her father. It had been mere hours since the farmer's untimely demise and already the stress of it all was eating away at the former nun's sanity. Meanwhile, her husband didn't seem the least bit bothered by the sudden need to drop everything they knew and move countries away from their home. After all, it wasn't as if he hadn't been planning for this excursion all along. Though, of course, not in the manner that it happened.
"Because I knew you'd say no," the vampire replied simply. "I just needed time to figure out how to convince you and now is more convenient than ever."
He ruffled Sorina's hair and the girl giggled. At least she didn't seem traumatized by what had happened, much to Agatha's relief. Still, she was finding herself really resenting the count at that moment. With no other outfit to aim it towards, her negative emotions had chosen him as their target. Inhaling, she watched as Dracula knelt down to Sorina's eye level.
"We're going on an adventure, little one," he smiled, holding out one of her dolls to take. "I think you and your Mama are going to like it." The count's eyes flicked briefly to Agatha before returning his attention to Sorina. "I'm sure of it."
"An ad...venture?" Sorina asked, sounding out the word. "Where?"
"To a lovely place called England. Your Papa has made a special castle for you and Mama both," Dracula explained. "But we have to take a boat to get there. You know what a boat is, right? From your storybooks?"
"Mhm," the girl nodded. "Boats go in water!"
"Clever girl," the vampire chuckled, bopping her nose with his index finger. "You'll see," his attention now turned to his wife. "Everything is going to be absolutely fine."
"Madame?"
Agatha snapped back into reality, turning away from the shore's waters that lapped against the pier. Around her, men were loading various cargo aboard the large vessel that bore the name, The Demeter, in deep carved letters on the side. The air was cool, the weather surprisingly pleasant, and though any normal person would have found it a lovely day to set sail, the former nun felt uneasy.
"Madame?"
She blinked, pulling herself together as she looked over at the man who addressed her. He offered her a small smile, nodding to the piece of parchment he grasped in his hands.
"Might I have your name, if you please?"
"Agatha," she stated. "Countess Agatha Van-oh do be careful with that!"
The man's attention turned to the three crew members who seemed to struggle hauling a rather large box onto the ship. Accidentally, one of the corners smacked against the side of the boat causing the crate to sway unevenly for a moment. A round of apologies sounded as the now flustered woman looked once more at the sailor.
"It's Agatha Van Helsing," she said tersely.
"Ah," he smiled. "There you are. Cabin nine. And it also says…"
"Yes, I'm here with my husband, Count Dracula, and our daughter, Sorina." Before the man could say another word, Agatha added quickly. "They must've already gone aboard. Now if you wouldn't mind, I'd so like to do so myself."
She hurried on, pushing past a rather burly sailor with one hand who offered her a cup of some sort of liquid. Though it had been years since she had truly been able to enjoy fresh air, Agatha made her way towards the cabins. Just as she was about to grab the handle to their room, Dracula opened the door. He smirked, stepping back to reveal a slightly dirty Sorina.
"I was in a box, Mama!" She declared proudly. "And Papa too!"
"Yes, I know," Agatha replied, slipping past the count who closed the door. "Let's get you out of those clothes and into something clean." She smiled softly, licking her thumb before wiping away a smudge of dirt across Sorina's cheek.
"And you did a wonderful job," her father grinned. "Quiet as a mouse. A little bumpy getting on board, but we managed."
"Can I go outside, Mama," the little girl begged. "Please?"
"No-" Agatha started before her husband quickly cut her off.
"Later tonight, micul mea liliac," the vampire promised. "After dinner." He looked to the former nun, offering a smile. "I recommend the fish. We're on the ocean, after all. One can guarantee it's fresh."
"I'm assuming you already have your menu planned," she frowned. "Mr. Balaur." He gave her a look of pleasant surprise which, in return, she returned with a glare. "Did you really think that I wouldn't pick up on that? Such an odd name for you to suggest Sorina call her doll. Not to mention, of course, the variety of passengers is quite strange."
"I didn't just marry you for your beauty," he smirked. "Your intelligence and wit are also very charming qualities."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Count Dracula," she stated firmly. "Just...just be clean and smart about it please. And above all else, not around her." Agatha nodded towards their daughter who, at that moment, had taken to exploring the room. "Four weeks before we reach England. A month. Whatever you do, don't draw attention to us."
The vampire stood before her and tenderly tucked a lock of Agatha's hair behind her ear. When he kissed her lips, still down-turned into a frown, she couldn't help but smile a little. Damn his alluring nature. That was part of the reason that pulled her into his arms in the first place. He made it very hard to stay mad at him. Even though she found herself getting after him a lot. Perhaps all marriages were like that.
"Now, darling," he crooned. "When have I ever let you down?"
XXX
"Papa, look!" Sorina's voice was filled with excitement as she tugged on Dracula's hand. "People!"
The vampire peered down at his daughter and smiled. Before them stood the cozy quarters of an already full dining room. All who were present were elegantly dressed, Sorina much resembling one of her dolls as she sported a cornflower blue dress with a matching bow her mother had picked out for her. Agatha's eyes wandered around the room, her curiosity piqued as to what specific requirements her husband used to determine who he'd chosen for this particular voyage.
"Ah, I believe that is our table over there," Dracula stated, pulling the former nun from her thoughts. "Shall we?"
Before his wife could utter a reply, Sorina broke away from her father and hurried over to a table where a much younger couple sat. Of the pair, a rather beautiful lady beamed in delight the moment her attention was drawn to the little girl.
"Why hello there," she said cheerfully. "Aren't you just a pretty little thing!"
"I know," Sorina stated. "What's your name?"
"Dorabella," Dorabella replied. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sorina. Is this your first time on a ship?"
"My first time outside!" Her words caused Agatha to grimace. "I live in a castle!"
"Why, isn't that the most adorable thing I've ever heard!" Dorabella giggled, looking to her husband. "Oh, darling, isn't she just precious?! How I simply cannot wait until we have children of our own!"
"Sure," the man replied seemingly uninterested. "Whatever you say, dearest."
"I'm so sorry," Agatha said, finally hurrying over and taking a hold of Sorina's hand. "I apologize for the interruption." Her eyes flickered over to her daughter. "Come, Sorina, it's time for dinner."
"Oh, she's no bother, really," Dorabella insisted. "You have such a lovely child. You and your husband must feel very lucky. We just got married!" She smiled warmly at Sorina. "Your mummy and daddy clearly love you dearly!"
"I love my Mama and Papa," Sorina said proudly.
"My congratulations to you both," Agatha said, feigning a smile. She knew full well that neither would be making it off this vessel alive. "Darling, it's time to eat. You must be hungry."
"Bye!" The little girl called, waving to Dorabella as her mother led her off to the table where her father sat. "See you later!"
Dracula grinned when Agatha and Sorina finally joined him. He watched as his wife did her best to get their daughter situated, Sorina's head just barely poking above the table. The former nun sighed, shaking her head as she took her own seat. The menus were already stacked into a neat pile off to the side, giving the family of three much more space.
"Already being acquainted with the other guests?" Dracula inquired. "It seems Sorina has made a new friend." Agatha threw him a look as her husband's attention shifted to his daughter. "Are you having fun, love?"
"Mhm!" The girl smiled, eyes sparkling. "Papa, there are people here!"
Just as Sorina spoke those words, two plates of fish and potatoes were placed in front of her and her mother. Before even giving the marinated cod a taste, the little girl's nose crinkled in disgust. She picked up her fork and began to poke at the flaky filet with a frown.
"I only like the potatoes," she said.
"Sorina, you haven't even tasted the fish," Agatha sighed. "And do stop playing with your food. We raised you to have good table manners."
"I only like the potatoes," Sorina repeated. "Fish is yucky."
"Clearly she's got a refined palate like her father," Dracula half joked.
"Clearly," Agatha rolled her eyes. "But she can't just eat potatoes for the next month." Her husband began to open his mouth but was quickly cut off. "Don't."
The vampire raised his hands as if to protect himself. "Fair enough," he smirked. "I know my limits. Surely there are other things we can find to appease her tastes."
"Until then," Agatha said, scrapping her potatoes onto Sorina's plate. "I suppose a little bit of starch isn't terribly harmful."
Once they had finished eating, Dracula excused himself and left to strike up a conversation with a rather elderly looking woman. Agatha tried not to think about his true intentions as she led Sorina back into their living quarters. The young girl yawned as her mother helped remove her dress and ribbon before slipping a nightgown over the girl's head. It had been a rather exciting day for the child. It was no wonder she was exhausted.
"Where's Papa?" Sorina mumbled, snuggling under the covers as Agatha tucked her in.
"He'll be back when you wake up," the woman assured her daughter, drawing the curtains tightly closed. "Get some rest, sweetheart. You've had a big day." Sorina yawned once more and Agatha couldn't help but chuckle. Gingerly, she leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I love you. Papa loves you."
"I love you too, Mama," Sorina whispered. "Papa."
Agatha waited awhile until she was quite certain the child was sleeping. Quietly, she moved to a nearby chair and, what little candlelight she had, took to reading one of the few books she managed to bring from Transylvania. It wasn't until she felt someone's fingers running through her hair that she opened her eyes realizing she had fallen asleep.
"Sorry," Dracula murmured. "I hadn't intended on waking you."
"It's okay," Agatha exhaled, shifting into a more comfortable position. "That woman, is she…"
"Do you really want to know?" Agatha tiredly shook her head. "I left no trace," he promised. "No one will suspect a thing." He offered her a gentle smile. "Quite an exciting day, wouldn't you agree?"
"Perhaps for you," the former nun whispered. "I've never felt more anxious in my life."
"Sorina did beautifully," the vampire replied. "Better than either of us anticipated."
"This is only the first day out of several," Agatha frowned. "How are we to know the outcome of all of this. What if we can't protect-"
"Shh," he hushed her. "We'll take it one day at a time, yes? You know I would do absolutely anything for the both of you. I'd never let bad happen. No one would dare touch a single hair on our daughter's head if they knew who I truly was."
"But we can't let them know that." Agatha massaged her temples, clearly very exhausted over the matter. "I would die a thousand painful deaths for Sorina, but those are just words." She looked back at the sleeping frame of her daughter. "I…"
"Agatha," Dracula now cupped her face in his cool hands. "Let's step out a moment. You need to breathe. Sorina will be fine, she's fast asleep." He took her by the hand and pulled her up, somewhat surprised she didn't protest. "Come, the night is lovely."
Together, the pair stepped out of the cabin, Agatha glancing behind her once more to ensure Sorina was still dreaming. She followed Dracula to the front deck, somewhat surprised to find that they were alone. It was then she noted that her husband's cape laid stretched out before them. The vampire guided her to sit down, taking his own place beside her once he did.
"We're alone. No one will bother us for a while," he informed her. "But don't worry, I've ensured that we won't crash."
"A foggy sky is quite romantic," Agatha smirked, looking to her husband.
"An easy fix," Dracula replied smugly.
She watched as he snapped his fingers, as if doing so completed some magic trick. To her surprise, and delight, she watched as the fog lifted to reveal a clear, starry night sky. Agatha grinned, looking over at her husband. The vampire chuckled, evidently pleased by his wife's reaction.
"Does this lighten the mood?" He inquired, laying back and inviting the former nun to do the same. "I suppose it's safe to have some clarity for now."
"You can be quite the charmer when you want to be," Agatha chuckled.
"Why thank you," he mused, taking her hand to kiss it. "Countess."
Agatha snorted, shaking her head as she slid closer to his body. When his arm snaked around her, she rested her head on his chest. It sometimes felt strange, lying there unable to hear his heart beat. But she didn't mind it. As time wore on, she had grown accustomed to it. She might even go as far as to say it was comforting. Agatha exhaled, closing her eyes momentarily until Dracula's next chosen words jolted her wide awake.
"We should have another baby."
"What?!" Agatha coughed, sitting up abruptly. "A baby?! Is that why you brought me out here?!"
"Well, Sorina's getting older," Dracula replied, sitting up calmly. "And the manor I've constructed is more than capable of housing more than three people."
"Did you forget what we were just talking about in there?" She snapped, pointing her index finger towards the direction of their cabin. "We have enough to worry about when it comes to taking care of one child. I can't even begin to imagine another!"
She began to stand up when Dracula grabbed her hand. Exhaling, Agatha turned to meet his gaze. He was staring at her expectantly, for what reason, she wasn't sure. Certainly her answer was obvious. And yet, the former nun found herself sitting back down.
"If you truly do not wish for another child. I'll respect your wishes," Dracula stated. "But at least humor me and listen to my reasoning."
"...Fine," Agatha exhaled.
"Thank you," he smiled. Dracula then began to rummage before producing what appeared to be a small notepad. "Here we are. I thought I'd list some of my reasons for this discussion."
"You took notes?" She inquired, an eyebrow cocked.
"For your benefit, not mine," he explained simply. "I know you value information, so I created this with the hopes that you'd find someone honor in me for making it."
He held out the notebook which, in turn, Agatha took with hesitation. She studied it carefully, beginning to thumb through the text. Dracula watched in amusement as her brows raised and furrowed interchangeably.
"Our genetics provide attractive traits on both a physical appearance and intellectual base…" Agatha read, her eyes briefly flickering to meet his.
"Such can be seen with our dear Sorina," he stated. "Wouldn't you agree?"
"...My maternal qualities are superior to many women, and then you have in parenthesis "just from what I've observed, not that I have openly consumed the blood of mothers"?" Agatha struggled to hide the amusement in her voice.
"I kept my promise to you about not murdering anyone for the sake of understanding your pregnancy," he answered. "So I can only assume."
"Hm," she nodded, looking down once more. "Sorina will not only gain a sibling, but a lifetime friend with the understanding that she has inherited the gift of immortality," Agatha read. "We have proven to be fantastic parents and it is known, without a doubt, that we are willing to go great lengths to protect our child and will continue to successfully do so…"
"I suppose that's the gist of it," Dracula nodded. "Have I done well to convince you?"
Agatha was silent for a moment, her lips pursed in deep thought. "Well…" she ventured. "I suppose it wouldn't do much harm to consider it…" She saw his devilish grin. "Consider it, I said, I didn't say-oh!"
The former nun cried out in surprise when the vampire flipped her onto her back, his head cradling her head so that it didn't hit the wooden planks. He loomed over her, his smile mischievous. Agatha huffed, rolling her eyes in false annoyance as her husband began to kiss her neck, his lips lingering over her jugular. It was becoming much more evident that talks of expanding the family hadn't been his only motive to get her outside. She shivered in pleasure as she felt his hand begin to trail up underneath her dress.
"You're such a brute," she scoffed, unable to stifle a laugh.
"And you love me for it," he playfully growled.
"Yes," Agatha breathed, her arms wrapping around his neck. "I suppose I do…"
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rest In Peace: Chapter Eight
Title: Rest In Peace
Chapter: 8
Summary: A part of Faithless Fairy Tale, a more in depth look at how they brought Laura back to life. Appearance of old faces, creation of new ones and if you’re looking for canon, it left a long, long time ago. If you squint you might be able to see some pieces from the book.
“Fear no more, says the heart...” -Virginia Woolf
+
Mad Sweeney pushes himself up off the floor, pissed for several reasons, top three being the fact he has just face fucked the floor, that Laura had ruined what was turning out to be a fan-fucking-tastic dirty dream and worst of all, he was clearly sporting a stiffy.
“Fuck you, dead girl, I was sleeping!”
“Yeah, and now you aren't. Come on, get up and get dressed, ginger bitch. We have a long drive back.”
That gets his attention, “Back where?”
“Back to Indiana. To find Anubis and Ibris. I have questions and I want them to answer them. I mean. Odin is dead now, so even if they had a deal it should be fine to just ask what it was.”
“You sure that's smart? They might take one gander ‘atcha and decide your trial period of second life is over. I might not be able to pluck that coin outta you, but Anubis might.”
“Then I will do a lot more than smack his hand if he tries.”
Sweeney gives out a dry chuckle, he doesn’t deny that he kind of wants to see it. An ancient god of death getting slapped silly by little Laura Moon. It was a painful experience, that he was familiar with but that didn't mean he had sympathy for anyone else who was on the receiving end of it.
(More so if he thought they deserved it)
“Fine, give a man some fucking privacy to get dressed.”
Laura looks down her nose at him, still on the floor, hidden by the bed.
“You got a boner, don't you.”
He feels his fucking ears burn, “Out!”
She leaves, but he is distinctly aware of her smug knowing smile.
He most certainly does not jack off to that same smug smile at all.
+
They decide to take one of Ostar's cars. It's the least fancy and brightly colored of her harem of cars, just a black SUV that has tinted windows and enough space for Sweeney’s long legs, so it's possible she'll never even notice or care. They argue for hours on who gets to drive it before a light bulb bursts right above his head, proving soundly that his luck is still fucking shit and they're more likely to survive if she drives.
Before they leave, Sweeney hunts down one of Ostara's many fluffy friends and picks it up by the scruff of the neck to bring the rabbit to his face.
“Oi, tell your old lady we'll bring the car back after we've paid a little visit to Anubis.”
The rabbit’s black nose twitches and Sweeney rolls his eyes.
“If anything happens to the fuckin' car you can have Shadow fuckin' Moon be the one to fuckin' pay for it. Its his damned dead, asshole wife!”
“Ex- asshole wife.” Laura calls out, climbing into the driver's seat.
Sweeney drops the rabbit, “Whatever, call it alimony then.”
“I had a better paying job than Shadow and owned a house, if anyone is paying alimony it would be me.” She says as he gets into the passenger side and she adjusts the car seat. Bringing it up as close as she can to the wheel. Meanwhile, he rummages through the bag at his feet that he brought, until he finds a stack of air fresheners.
He unwraps three lemon shaped ones and throws them in her lap. Laura looks down at them with a sneer while shoving on a pair of sunglasses.
“Really.”
“Shadow might not care for lemon scented you, but I sure as hell pick it over molding corpse.”
+
The first few hours of their drive isn't bad. Its not like they aren't used to sharing small spaces for impossibly long distances. This time she has the ability to aim all the air conditioners in her direction while he keeps the seat warmer on his side on high.
It also helps that he brought a blanket and a very pink fuzzy hat.
“Not a fuckin’ word outta of you dead girl.” He pulls it on and crosses his arms like a grumpy child. As if she was the one who made him wear it.
Laura keeps her face carefully blank, “I didn't say any thing.”
“You were thinkin' it.”
She struggles to hide the uptick of her lips.
“You do look pretty in pink.”
“Fuck you, dead bitch.”
“Fuck you back, Suibhne.”
+
“I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter ‘C'.”
“It better be cat.”
“It ain't.” Sweeney says with a delighted smirk.
Laura slams her feet on the brakes and Sweeney hits the dashboard with enough force to warrant a crunch.
“You’re an asshole, dead girl.” He hisses at her. Blood from his busted nose runs down his face and into his beard. She grins and continues their little game.
“I spy with my dead eye, something that begins with the letter D.”
Sweeney sniffs wetly, but then after a beat of silence asks, “Is it dickhead?”
“Bingo.”
+
The drive goes by faster than before. Probably because the SUV is naturally more efficient than an old ice cream truck, it helps too that neither of them need to stop for much. At most it’s a quick bathroom break, but Sweeney isn't the type of man who cares where he pisses so more often than not its just the side of the road.
On one such occasion, Laura gets out too just to stretch her limbs. There is a hint of stiffness in her that makes her worried that rigor mortis is a real possibility if she doesn't keep moving. It makes sense as much as it doesn't, her body moves but her insides don't.
There's no blood, every vein clogged and more than one of her organs stapled shut. Twice in some, while others are completely missing. Making her feel like a doll with no stuffing, nothing keeping her together but a gold coin and thread.
Except when she kissed Shadow and felt her heart beat…
Except when she touched Sweeney and felt her blood race…
Above her, a bird cries out. Laura covers her eyes to better see it fly over head. It circles twice, enough for her to fear it might be a damned vulture before it lands atop the car's hood and she realizes its far too small.
It's a hawk, and it opens its mouth to yell at her.
“What the fuck is this.” Sweeney comes up behind her, smoking and glaring at the bird as it continues it’s angry squawking. “What’d you do to piss it off?”
“Why do you think I did anything?”
“I might have shit luck, but even I’d still bet on those odds, darlin.”
“Go!” A new voice shouts.
“…Did that bird just tell me to go?” Laura questions, mostly at the bird.
“There you have it. Even the local wildlife is telling you to piss off.”
The hawk spreads its wings and lets out a sharp gutted cry; could be anger or indignation, fuck it could be a happy sound. All Laura ever owned was cats, she knows fuck all about birds.
“Go with!”
Laura has been having a really weird after life, all things considering, so stopping to talk to a hawk on the side of the road is just…well it is what it is. Fucking weird, but she does it.
“You…want to come with?”
The bird ruffled its feathers, puffed up and started earnestly bopping it's head. Laura shrugs and opens the passenger door, but quick as a lightning , Sweeney is pushing her hand aside and crawling in.
“I call FUCKIN' shot gun, the talking chicken nugget can sit in the fuckin' back.”
Laura slams the door closed, Hard enough to catch the tall idiot by the elbow and moves to open the back door instead. Gesturing to the bird to get in.
“Sure you want a lift? I mean you've got wings and this idiot never shuts the fuck up. I know which one I'd choose.”
The hawk flies into the back.
“Great.” She closes the door and walks back to the driver side. Mad Sweeney is glued to the radio, the bird is perched on the seat. Every now and then picking at something between it's claws and chewing.
“So, a dead woman, an unlucky leprechaun and a talking bird go on a road trip. Set up for a good joke, right?” She says, strapping herself in.
“And by good joke. You mean fuckin' awful, right?”
A new voice from the back pipes up, “Actually, I'm a God.”
Both of them scream in reply.
+
The bird who is not a bird at all, sits casually and as both Laura and Sweeney spit and sputter out curses in shock.
“Fuckin hell! Give a fella some sort of fuckin' warning you trickster asshole!” Sweeney puts a hand to his chest, where his heart is trying to escape his ribs. He will die of a damn heart attack before the end of this trip. He can feel it in his bones.
“Normally I wouldn't agree with him for anything, but holy shit yeah.” Laura looks at the man. He's handsome, dark skinned and naked. Really, really naked. “Also…maybe clothes? I’d like to at least know your name before I know what your balls look like.”
Sweeney glances back. Regrets it instantly.
“At least cup yourself, lad. This ain't our fuckin' car and I ain't paying to clean your dick sweat from it.” He tells the guy but there is no reaction from him. No shame.
Mad Sweeney looks harder at the man and sighs. He knows that look.
“Oh fuck me…” He glares at the dead woman beside him. “You just had to do it, didn't ya. You just had to let the bird in.”
“He asked!”
“He is fuckin' mad as shit! LOOK INTO HIS FUCKIN' EYES, WOMAN. HE IS BATTY AS A FUCK-” Sweeney glanced back to point, only to find he couldn't, “..he is a fuckin’ bird again. Fuck.” The hawk was back and blinking at them both. “Why the fuck is he a bird again?”
Laura shrugged, “How would I know? Maybe all your stupid yelling scared him.”
The hawk flapped it's wings.
Sweeney glared, “You’ll have a lot more to fear from me than the tone of my voice if you don't fuckin' change back, you mad feathery fuck, and tell us what the fuck you want.”
There is no pop, no dazzle of magic. Just one moment there was a bird, the next the man was back.
“I'm not scared of you.” The man says simply.
Before Sweeney can fling himself into the back and start a fight, Laura catches him by the shoulder.
“Stop trying to fight naked bird boy. I do not have the energy to properly workshop all the insults I could make from it right this second. And I'd really like to give it my all, so maybe hold off?”
“He wouldn't win.” The man says, as if stating a fact and nothing else.
“Wanna fuckin bet, bird brains?”
The man tilts his head, either confused by the insult or Mad Sweeney in general. Either way, Laura clocks the blankness in his eyes and acknowledges that whoever he is, he isn't playing with a full deck.
“Hey, so. Hello. I'm Laura.”
“I know.”
Taken slight aback, she waits for him to continue. When he doesn’t, she pushes on. “Any chance you can tell me your name or perhaps the reason why you suddenly decided to join us?”
The man blinks at her, processing for a long time before answering.
“I am called Horus. I know you are going to my brothers. I wish to come with.”
“…Okay.” Laura accepts this best she can. Horus as far as she can tell, is also an Egyptian god. So that makes sense…at least in the context of where he is traveling to. “Still gotta wonder. Wouldn't flying as bird be quicker?”
Horus doesn't answer, only looks at her with mournful dark eyes. Laura is shocked to see a second later a tear runs down his dark cheek.
“Hey, listen its fine. You can come with.” She awkwardly attempts to back track. She isn’t good with people, and knows it. But so far this God hasn’t done anything to her except ask for a lift and within seconds she has made him cry. That's a record even for her.
“Shit. There is probably some shitty karma coming my way now isn't there? For making some innocent god cry?”
“Ain't you, dead girl.” Sweeney tells her, voice lowered. He hands the weeping god his blanket and even an opened pack of peanuts. Which seems to cheer Horus up considerably. As he quickly stops crying and starts to pop them into his mouth to chew. “Chances are he has been a bird so long, everything up there is scrambled eggs. Doubt he remembers what his brothers look like let alone what street they live on.”
He knows, after all, just how little it takes to lose your mind. What it's like to be a bird and lose everything that you were and not even notice until its too late. The ability to turn back into a man fades every time you take flight, that's what they don't tell you.
Even now, sometimes he has days he wishes he could spread his wings and take off. Leave everything behind, just to feel the wind and the air hold him again, to be free and light as only a bird can be.
“But he knew who I was. Knew I was headed to them…”
Horus, having finished all his treats, leans towards them.
“The ravens told me.”
Laura glances at Sweeney, who growls and bangs his fist against his knee. “Okay, does that mean something or is that crazy bird code?”
“Huginn and Muninn. Odin's pet ravens. They've been following us for so long, I sort of forgot. Figured with Odin dead they'd fuck off. Either they've gained a sense of self or someone else has given a job to the lil bastards to keep tracking us.”
Horus frowns, “They were always meant to leave him. Even he knew that. If they work for someone new, it was always meant to be.”
Horus holds out his hand. And it takes a second for Sweeney to realize he wants a treat. With a heavy roll of his eyes, he bends to pull out another bag of snacks from his bagged horde. He pops it open and hands it over, watching in disgruntled amazement as the god upends it all into his mouth at once.
Laura starts the car and pulls it back onto the road. She doesn't exactly remember the way to the funeral home, other than a vague general direction she should head to and can only hope there is a sign for their business when they reach the state.
“So, Odin has a few minions still roaming about. Does it matter?”
“Does it matter she asks,” Mad Sweeney repeats, voice mocking. “Of course it fuckin matters. You, dead girl, killed him. In front of a group of holy witnesses at that. Now Shadow and Miss Spring might not say anything, but you can bet Media and Techdick will. I have no doubt they were watching from afar.”
There had been too much going on, afterwards to notice for sure, but Laura didn't doubt it.
“Never mind what feathery dumb and dumber are up to, by now there will probably be a whole new war gearing up. All against the dead girl who decided to go highlander on their big man. Fuck, there's no telling if they're teaming up or not either, old gods and new.” He chuckles, “Ain't nothing brings people together like a common enemy.”
Laura frowns, “I don't know why you're laughing. If they come after me, you're just as fucked.”
“Aye. Not much changed for me then is it?”
Laura stays silent, he's been eerily right for most things and she hates the idea he might be right about this.
>
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
My actor picks for a WIP.
After some serious soul searching I have come up with my top picks for actors in the film (or TV series) version of my book which does not even have a name yet.
Simon Pegg as Jack Dent, Jack Dent, and Danny Jackson.
Nathan Fillion as Barry, Bad Barry, Detective Barry, etc..
Eileen Atkins as Jackie Denton (an old batty and female version of Jack).
Hugh Laurie as Doc Landreth, Sober Doc, Depressed Doc, etc..
Rowan Atkinson as the voice of Normal the cat (and variants).
Ricky Gervais as Dave Chippy, the worlds most creepy man
John Cleese as Santa, the bearded Hells Angel & Computer Expert
Sarah Millican as Lilly (Normal's owner)
I'm torn between Karen Gillan and Jenna Coleman as Suzie, the literal girl next door and voice of reason.
Lenora Crichlow as Jesse, the shy "housemate" of Suzie
I'm torn between Gemma Chan and Katie Leung as Hannah, the kick arse spy from another reality
Peter Kay as the Six Inch Devil (SID)
Eddie Izzard as Quookwubbler Juckbox
Luke Pasqualino as Zack, who never notices anything odd.
Tim Curry as Hugh, the badly made android
This all started because I woke up imagining Nathan Fillion starring in something I had written. Then because I had a strong lead actor in the role of Barry I needed someone that could stop Fillion stealing the show and in my mind cast Simon Pegg as Jack. I would love to see Pegg and Fillion bicker and bungle their way through the increasingly bizarre and dangerous worlds I set this story in.
I also happen to think that both Nathan Fillion and Simon Pegg bring the required level of geekiness to the role. Both characters are utterly geeky and the actors have both shown they can make that work while also being funny.
Update: If I cannot have Nathan Fillion I would be just as delighted with @wilwheaton who, IMHO, would also make an amazing Barry and has both the geek and acting chops for the role. In fact, screw Fillion as Barry - I have a villain he can play - I want to see Simon Pegg and Wil Wheaton bring my book to life.
As a side note, I creased up laughing when I realised that Eileen Atkins could play an older female Simon Pegg. I'm not 100% certain that she is the perfect Jackie Denton (Squeeble Detective) but at least this casting choice would give the casting director a starting point. Whoever they pick, she'd have to carry a scene alone as Jackie Denton is a character written with the idea of a stand-alone novel or series of her own. That or Simon Pegg in drag which works too.
I needed an actor for Doc that could match the two boys for screen dominance. That led me to Hugh Laurie as the various Doc Landreth characters. We've already seen what he can do with House, and we know the actor can handle his comedy. I would pay good money to see Hugh Laurie being amusingly rude to Simon Pegg and Nathan Fillion. Add the voice of Rowan Atkinson to the mix and they would turn things up to eleven.
The hardest character to cast was Dave Chippy. Chippy has to hold his own but needs an actor that can handle comedy and has the chops to make a character truly unpleasant and creepy. Ricky Gervais may be the man for this. He has shown that he can pull off "character oblivious to everyone's true opinion of him".
Peter Kay would kill it as (at least the voice of) the Six Inch Devil. I can think of no better way to bring out the comedy of this character than Kay.
John Cleese would have the chops to make every moment with Santa memorable despite the presence of some acting giants with more lines. You will have to trust me when I say, Cleese as Santa would make you wet yourself laughing.
With Cleese in that role, I now want to put Santa and Juckbox in a scene together because Cleese vs Izzard would blow the roof off.
This is where I started to get a little less sure. Suzie is a character that holds things together and compels a cast of characters that are either feckless or too distracted towards moral choices. Given the sci-fi nature of the setting, I wanted a Doctor Who actress and could not make up my mind between Karen Gillan and Jenna Coleman.
I had a similar struggle trying to make up my mind for Hannah. Gemma Chan and Katie Leung both seem to be a good fit for the character.
I had no such problems casting Jesse. Lenora Crichlow would nail it, I have no doubt. As of this draft, Jesse is a character that needs a strong actor to fully realise the character. There's still time to fix the way she is written but Lenora Crichlow would still be amazing.
As for casting Zack, I must confess I chose Luke Pasqualino because he just looks like how I picture the guy.
Likewise, my casting of Tim Curry as Hugh is mostly because I'd be fascinated as to what the man would do with the character. The casting director might have other ideas. I just think Tim Curry is great.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Ren Endings 1 + 9
Last one!!!
A fun ending tied with the 0 health ending because, why not get them both at the same time? Trying to get one also leads to the other because of low sanity so, yea, these two are together :)
House:
Surely you know the drill by now! You wake up in a strange house after a night of drinking (at least one drink lol) and then there’s a fox-boy in your face! Ask him “Where am I?” as you try to clear your head. He says that you’re save at his house and then offers to make you some food. Fuck food, ask “About your ears...” because he did not have those in the bar but you actually recall seeing them?? Everything fuzzy still, but those stick out. Ren assures you that they are real and not a costume, because he’s not human, just... human-ish. OH, that clears everything right up... He says that he doesn’t like to hide them since he was told that he should never hide who he is. But then he heads off to make food before you can say anything else. As you sit there and continue to process which parts you can remember from the evening before, you come to realize that you have a shackle around your ankle... Ren has chained you to the wall!! That fully wakes you up and then you realize that there’s some sort of heavy weight around your neck too... You make some noise as you try to get it off, which gets Ren’s attention. He comes back in to see what’s wrong (Oh, like he doesn’t already know...). Start with “What the hell is this thing on my neck?” because obviously you know what the shackle is. Ren says that it’s a gift for you! Ha, well you don’t want the gift, ask him “Are you insane!?” because, this is sounding absolutely batty. He should’ve left you on the ground if the alternative was to keep you chained up in his house! Ren doesn’t like your ungrateful tone at all. He says that he obviously needs to train you; he pulls out a remote and shocks you. Ouch. But he’s not done, he commands you to sit, just to see if one shock was enough for you. Beg “Please stop this...” (since we don’t need him to /hate/ us don’t go with the top answer lol) but Ren just smirks and repeats that he told you to sit, not beg. So he shocks you again. A lot stronger than before. You drop to your knees to satisfy him.
Then he’s off to the kitchen once more, satisfied with your progress. As soon as he’s gone you climb back into the comfy chair and try to think of an escape plan. You basically come up with squat because as long as Ren has that remote, anything you try is likely to fail... Then he’s back with dinner, and he has yours in a dog bowl. Which he puts on the floor.... now he’s just being an ass... he’s the one with ears and a tail! He commands you to eat it. Since you’re hungry (and, again, we don’t want him to totally hate us), -eat it- without any backtalk. It’s surprisingly good so you can’t complain! He’s surprised at how fast you finish, saying that now it’s time to let you get settled in. That means that you’re moving rooms so he has to undo your shackle. But don’t forget about your collar, Ren reminds you that he has the remote. This is your only chance though so -attack him- (timed) once the shackle is off. Ren isn’t human though so his reactions are a lot faster than yours, he dodges you and is shocking you in moments. You fall to the floor from the intensity. And then Ren shocks you again, grinning as he does so. Are you ready to behave? Yes, yes you are. You let Ren lead you to your room. It’s furnished you don’t want to complain, despite the fact that Ren basically just confessed that you’re going to be here awhile, say “it’s... nice.” Ren beams at you and then leaves so you have a chance to rest. Search the room but find nothing and eventually sleep as you try to think of a way out of there.
Wake up when it’s morning and surprise, you have the house to yourself. You don’t hear any movement at all in the rest of the house, so is Ren not home? Your bedroom door is unlocked too so -explore the house-! Now that you aren’t chained to the wall and Ren isn’t moving around to see you and shock you into submission -leave the house- like pft, duh! Is it this easy??? As you near the door, your collar makes a shrill beep noise... um? Maybe it’s a warning of some kind?... -Approach the door anyways- because you can’t know for sure what the noise was and you have to try. You take a few more steps forward and a massive shock comes from the collar. You briefly black out from it, hitting the floor! That could’ve killed you! Holy shit.... You struggle to your feet, knowing that you won’t be trying that again. And of course, just then, Ren comes back home too! You hurry back to your room, not wanting him to find you so close to the door. He doesn’t call out so maybe he didn’t hear you? Phew.... You hear him talking to someone but don’t hear any actual replies... on the phone? There’s some loud thumps too.... You don’t have long to wonder, he’s calling you out to the living room to come and see the surprise! He nods towards a door and tells you to open it, a big smile on his face.
With no excuses to make, you go over and open the door. It’s dark in the room but your eyes adjust and you see Lawrence tied to a chair... what the hell? Ren tells you that Lawrence was originally going to be his new friend but then he found you and brought you home! So now Lawrence is here so the two of you can hurt him and grow closer to each other, how awesome! Ren hands you a knife. This is awful... he can’t really expect you to do that... say “Please don’t make me...” and Ren will take pity on you. He’ll cut Lawrence up, you just have to watch. It is your first time after all, he can sympathize. -Give Ren the knife- because at least you don’t have to do it now (and you know better than to say no XD). You can’t help but watch as Ren stabs him with the knife, a scary look on his face. He asks how you feel and at first you can’t answer but when he threatens to just slash Law’s throat, you find some words. Ren is happy to get a reaction from you, even if you tell him that you’re scared and not that you’re enjoying it. Next he stabs Law in the stomach, yanking the knife upward and tearing Law’s stomach wide open (Graphic images). You can’t breathe... you black out.
When you wake up, you’re chained up again in the living room and Ren’s changed his clothes. He acts if you’re still feeling upset and you ask about Law.... he happily reveals that Lawrence really is dead! You whimper and Ren smiles down at you, comments that you’re so gentle. But it’s okay because you’re safe with him! Tell him “I’m sorry, you’re right” (sanity answer), because you know you can never leave... not after what happened in the closet... Ren assures that he’s got a nice house and all kinds of money, he’ll take really good care of you! He wants to take it easy for the rest of the day, since you seem to need a gentle touch. He suggests a movie and popcorn, hurrying off to go make some. You sit there until the popcorn is done and Ren asks you what kind of movie you want to watch. Tell him “Comedy”* and he looks through the film collection. He grumbles that most of them are in German so... but then he finds one! He says that he has a better idea and you get the feeling that he didn’t pick a comedy... but you certainly aren’t going t argue with him about it... He sits you down and closes the curtains, mumbling about how this one is... uh... ... he doesn’t finish the explanation... All you get is that he didn’t like them much at first. OH, that sounds promising... He says that he’s sure you’ll like them. You nervously turn towards the TV and find out that he put in a home video... There’s a person tied up and you immediately remember Lawrence. You try to ask if it’s a joke but Ren shushes you. Another person comes into frame and he has a mask but even through the bandana covering the lower part of his face, you know he’s smiling... The guy starts talking, as if he’s reading something... he’s replying to someone? He pulls out a knife and you go cold... The tied up person screams as he suddenly cuts off a finger! You scream too. Ren is just smiling at you.
*Note: you’re free to choose anything here, I just find it funny that you ask for a comedy and he puts in a murder movie XD yea, Ren, this is sooooo hilarious! Picking romance actually gains you a heart level though.
Ending 9:
Clearly he’s expecting something from you so ask him the first thing that pops into your head, “Who is that guy?” Ren says that his name was Strade- this used to be his house... all of it was his. He used to make money off of his videos... Ren found his passwords and whatnot so now... it’s all Ren’s! You quickly glance back at the screen and see that there’s more blood and she’s still screaming.... Ren keeps explaining, how Strade understood things and took care of him- just like he’s going to take care of you! Ren’s face suddenly changes and you realize too late that you have a look of terror on your face and he’s offended. You’re still afraid of him?! After he took the time to be gentle with you?! He guesses that you aren’t the type to learn by watching, you still need some training. He shocks you and you black out. When you wake up, you’re in a different part of the house, Ren calls it the workshop.... that doesn’t sound good. You aren’t tied up though, yet, because Ren wants you to undress first. -Refuse- because, you aren’t going to make things easy for his sick games. Ren tsks and shocks you. You fall to the floor, grabbing the collar... you can’t... move... you can’t feel anything anymore, or even open your eyes. You’ll never open them again. But you don’t hurt anymore Died- Your body gave out.
OR
Ending 1:
-Keep watching- because you don’t want to talk anymore and you aren’t really sure what else you’re supposed to do... You watch as he interacts with the chatters, he cuts her fingers off, carved wounds into her chest. You listen and she screams and begs. It ends with a power drill... in her mouth...** That’s too much for you though, you look away finally. Ren takes a moment to get something a little more filling too, because apparently this part makes him hungry! Helplessly you turn back towards the TV, even though Ren isn’t in the room. There’s more blood than before... Ren returns with a small carton of... something? He quickly tells you that he has chicken hearts! Yum. You aren’t afraid anymore, just a little numb. But it feels better now that the fear is gone. So yea, you’ll try a chicken heart. He feeds you one and you slowly chew it. When he asks what you think of it, all you think to say is that it might be better if it was warm? You nuzzle him and he wraps his tail around you. Ren thinks that you made a great suggestion! He hugs you close. Survived- You let Ren take care of you.
**Note: Hey, wait a minute, that sounds familiar!!! It sounds a lot like how things went in my fic, Monstrous Desires <-- shameless plug for anyone that might not have read it yet. I do plan on finishing it!! XD
164 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cowboy
(I wrote a short story for the Homestuck Discord’s first writing contest. This is where I’d put a content warning, but if I’m any more specific I’ll spoil it, so consider this a warning of its own.)
Mad Joey had never been much good at naming things. He was good at cards, and drinking large quantities of terrible lager, and had quite the uncanny ability to walk more than ten feet on his hands alone - but whenever he was asked to name something, he’d just pick the first thing that came into his head. On his tenth birthday, his mother had bought him a cat, which he’d named “Kitty” - it had ended up dying a couple of months later, in an unfortunate accident involving a litter tray and a lighter. His mother had herself died only a few months after that, coincidentally in another incident involving a lighter - although, in this case, it had not been a litter tray, but rather several gallons of petrol.
The name “Mad Joey” had been his own invention, too. All of his friends (well, both of them) agreed that it was a terrible name: Joey was not mad - so they argued - just a bit of a prick.
Despite the fact that he’d been riding on it for almost two whole days, Mad Joey’s workhorse had yet to receive a name of its own. It was a tired thing, propelled along by four spindly legs which somehow managed to transmit each and every undulation of the ground beneath up through the worn saddle and straight into Mad Joey’s ass - even though not one of its legs touched the floor. The workhorse’s repulsor technology worked fine on the level roads found on the core planets, where remaining a fixed difference above the ground made for a relatively smooth ride. Here in the outer reaches, however, its lack of suspension was sorely felt.
“Piece o’ shit,” Mad Joey muttered, thinking that’d make a fine name for his steed.
Glancing back through the thick cloud of fine smoke being kicked up behind his vehicle, Mad Joey could see the faint outline of his pursuer’s speeder - noticeably bigger than the last time he’d looked. He was losing ground.
Searing pain shot through Mad Joey’s arm, the product of a harpoon fired by the pilot of the craft behind. “Fuck!” he yelled as he let go of the reins and tried to pull it free. “Son of a bitch!” It was no use. The cable was already taut; he found himself being dragged from the craft, face-planting into the dust below and rolling to a stop.
By the time he’d recovered, the other speeder had come to a stop. He ignored it and remained where he was on the windswept ground. With his good arm, he tore off his helmet. Though it stank something fierce, the air here was just about breathable - of course, it’d have to be, for what he was planning.
Mad Joey sat up, retrieved his flask from his suit, and took a long swig of the whiskey contained within. It tasted like piss, and he almost choked on it. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the speeder’s occupant climbed out and approached through the settling smoke. “A’ight mate, this has been a laugh, but enough’s enough,” a voice crackled from behind the mirrored glass of their helmet. “You gonna come quietly? I got a taser.”
Mad Joey laughed at that. He was busy stuffing a rag into the flask - a difficult task, with just one hand to work with, but not an impossible one. “Not a chance, partner,” he said, trying the word out for size.
“The fuck’s that voice you’re doing?”
Slowly, Mad Joey got to his feet. “Here’s how this is gonna go down,” he drawled. “You’re gonna turn around, get back in that speeder, and mosey the hell away from this dustball.”
His adversary took a step forward. “And why the fuck’s that?”
Mad Joey gestured around expansively. “Gunpowder.”
“You what?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Mad Joey chose to repeat himself. “...Gunpowder.”
“Nah mate, I heard you, it’s just…” They trailed off, their helmet swivelling as they took in their surroundings - as if for the first time. “Wait, that’s what this shit is?”
In answer, Mad Joey brandished a lighter. This proved tricky, because his good hand already had a flask in it, but he managed.
“Naaah, that’s fuckin’ batty. The whole planet’s made of this shit. How the fuck would a rock like this even form?” They shook their head. “This is why you’re doing all cowboy shit, innit?”
“Ah’m gonna blow this whole place sky high,” Mad Joey said, “go out in a blaze o’ glory.” His bad arm was stinging like a bitch. His good hand was shaking. “They’ll see the blast from the central planets.”
The lawperson looked around again, one hand raised to their helmet to shield their eyes. It was almost midday, and the sun bore down brightly. “No, they won’t - there won’t be any blast, mate, the wind’ll put it out.”
Mad Joey faltered. “Reckon it’ll be enough to take the both of us out, at least.” He looked down at the cable dangling from his arm. It was like a lasso, he thought. “Get outta here. Tell ‘em Mad Joey won, tell ‘em he burned his way into hell.”
“You didn’t win shit,” they snorted - forcing a burst of static out through the speakers in their suit. “They had the fires out in like, ten minutes - fire service’s a lot better than it used to be. They literally only want you for wasting everyone’s time.” They advanced, arms spread wide - but Mad Joey raised the lighter, and they froze. “This is fucking daft,” they pressed. “Mate, look, I dunno who you are, I dunno how you found this rock, but you gotta admit this is a bit much.”
Mad Joey looked away, and his gaze fell upon the workhorse, which had crashed into a nearby dune and now rested with all four legs pointing in the air. “I killed my mu- mom,” he stuttered. “I burned the house down with her in it, ‘cause she was a bitch, and nobody knew I did it.”
“You…” The lawperson reached up with both hands and removed their helmet. From beneath the mirrored glass, Mad Joey saw a face emerge which was a faint reflection of his own - older, with bleached-blonde hair - and heard a distantly familiar voice. “...Joel?”
“Mum,” said Mad Joey. He staggered forward, dropping the lighter and the flask. They fell into the gunpowder, which didn’t ignite.
“I didn’t even recognise you,” she said, tears running down her cheeks. “You look like shit. Also, you were talking in a fucking cowboy voice, you twat.”
“I just thought it’d be cool,” sobbed Mad Joey. “Cowboys are so fucking cool, Mum,” he bawled.
“Shh,” Joel’s mother said, drawing him into a hug. “You don’t have to be a cowboy to be cool.”
“I know, Mum, I’m so sorry-”
“-No, I’m sorry,” she said, squeezing him tighter. “I’m sorry I was such a shit mum. After- after the fire- after I’d thought you died- I tried to sort my shit out, really.”
“You did, Mum,” said Mad Joey. “You’re a fuckin’ police lady. That’s cool as shit.” After a couple of moments, he pushed her away slightly. “Watch this,” he said, taking a couple of steps back. He sucked in a deep breath, then quickly bent over forwards, flipping up so that he was standing on his hands. Unfortunately, one of his arms still had a harpoon sticking out of it, and it gave way instantly - sending him crashing into the dust with a shriek. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!”
“I-” started his mother, not really sure what she’d just witnessed.
“Nah, nah, I’m all- fuck! I’m- I’m all right. Fuck. Was just… I can do this cool thing, where I walk on my hands, y’know.”
“I know,” she nodded, not knowing. She knelt down next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry I shot you - we’ll get you to a hospital or something, get it looked at, yeah?”
“Are- are you gonna arrest me?” asked Mad Joey, haltingly.
His mother nodded again. “You did crimes, Joel. I’m sorry.” She reached into a compartment in her suit and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “I know I’m your mum, but crimes are against the law.”
“Yeah, okay.” Mad Joey wiped the tears from his eyes, before holding out his hands. Once the handcuffs were on, his mother helped him into the speeder, and - as they flew away - he stared down at the planet of gunpowder in pensive thought. After thinking for a while, he spoke up. “Mum… now that we’re up here… do you wanna set the gunpowder off?”
She turned around in the driver’s seat. “Haven’t you burnt enough things today?”
Joel supposed he had.
Commentary
The Homestuck Discord got a new #writing channel towards the end of December, last year, after a survey in which a few users requested one. For some reason I didn’t post there until over a month later, but - as the amount of time I spent in the server increased - I found myself growing fairly invested in the channel. See, it’s always struggled a lot in terms of activity - often playing host to one or two short conversations, if that - and, as it was introduced on an experimental basis, it’s always in danger of being archived.
This isn’t really the place to examine the channel in detail. What I will say is that perhaps its most important role is to provide a place for people to shill their own writing, where it would otherwise be buried in #general or laughed out of #mspa-lit.
I’m pretty sure I was the first person to meaningfully suggest doing a #writing contest, all the way back towards the end of February: “could be a two-week contest with a decent prompt, where idk the winning story gets posted in #shilling or something”. It wasn’t until after spiral became the art-cosplay pseudo moderator that anything came of this - only instead of one prompt, there was to be four, and instead of a #shilling post being the prize a couple of the server’s resident artists offered to grant a free commission to each of the winners.
Determined to put my money where my mouth was, I got right to work on my own entry. First, I had to pick from the prompts:
DIALOGUE PROMPT: "You don't want to live in a society like this, yet you don't want to do anything about it!"
ART PROMPT: “Chilly Night” by Martyna "Marcia" Chmielewska
SETTING PROMPT: A vast, barren planet devoid of most resources except one rare mineral.
SENTENCE PROMPT: In the ballroom, full of swishing skirts and duplicity, there was one thing left unaccounted for.
I was sorely tempted by the “we live in a society” prompt, but didn’t think it’d be possible to incorporate it naturally into a piece.
(As it happened, a few people did choose that prompt, and I was pleasantly surprised by how effectively they used the line.)
In the end, I settled on the one which fell within my own comfort zone - the setting prompt. I remembered seeing a post by Drew Linky which mentioned “nitroglycerin”, and - even if it didn’t quite fit the spirit of the prompt - I couldn’t get the idea of a planet made entirely of explosives out of my head. So I ran with it.
I did a bit of research into what large amounts of dynamite looked like when they exploded - by which I mean I watched some random YouTube video - and decided that gunpowder would be a much more evocative substance to make a planet from; it’d look like black sand.
The thing that I found most rewarding when writing this story was that each new idea felt like a natural progression from the last. Gunpowder evoked Western stories, so I decided to present the story as a standard Western - only to pull the rug out from under the reader as the description of the “workhorse” progresses and it becomes apparent that the story’s set in place. I wanted to have an outlaw and a sheriff of sorts, and they needed to be on the planet for a reason.
You can probably guess how the story’s opening line came about. I was staring at a brand new Google Doc and wanted to give it a title, and went with the first thing that came into my head: “Cowboy”. To get myself in the mood, I wound up reading some article about gambling in the Old West (effectively none of which made its way into the story). All of the little details and anecdotes in the first couple of paragraphs were pulled pretty much from thin air; I very much wrote this story by the seat of my pants, rarely stopping to go back and edit or to plan ahead, so in retrospect I’m pretty pleased with the extent to which I was able to incorporate them into the story’s climax.
The idea that Joey’s workhorse has no suspension was probably inspired on a subconscious level by the scooter which I used to ride as a kid. It had solid wheels, which meant you felt every bump in the road. Boy, that thing was fun. The ground’s described as having undulations, by which I meant the wavy patterns left in wind-swept sand; the fact that the planet’s windy is important, as it’s later stated that Mad Joey probably won’t be able to spread a fire across its whole surface.
I liked the idea that the workhorse was kicking up a big cloud of gunpowder as it went - kinda like those ships in The Last Jedi - which seemed to mirror the semi-literal trail of smoke which Mad Joey had been leaving all his life. Speaking of things inspired by sci-fi, didn’t somebody get a harpoon through a limb in Firefly? I had a specific image in my head when I wrote that scene, but I’ve forgotten where exactly it was from.
The line about the air being breathable plants the idea that he’s planning to set something on fire - of course, by then, we already know he’s capable of arson.
I probably only included the beat about whiskey because of the infamous “pass the whiskey” voice line from Fistful of Frags, which I’d briefly played a month or so prior to writing the story. From there, the idea that he’d make a kind of Molotov cocktail using the whiskey was a natural step - see what I mean about this story writing itself?
It’s around this point that the dialogue kicks in. When I wrote this story, I’d been working on “The Beast Within (My Pants)” for a good couple of months, and I quickly found myself slipping into the abrasive cartoonishly-British voice I’d used for many of those characters. Mad Joey himself speaks with my own poor impression of a cowboy, which seemed about right. In all honesty, I’m not sure how well the conversation comes off. My goal was to juxtapose the absurdity of many of the lines against the fact that Mad Joey is getting talked down from the edge, so to speak.
I found myself tripping over the fact that I hadn’t established a gender to his pursuant - I’d given them an opaque helmet and described them in ambiguous terms to keep my options open. In reality, this effectively shut down other avenues for the story’s resolution, because - in terms of economy of narrative - I had to provide some kind of payoff. Glancing back at the beginning of the story told me that I had only one option - Mad Joey was being chased by none other than his own mother. I felt like this was an effective twist because her dialogue seems pretty... laddish? It also generally seems to fit the themes of contrivance and absurdity I’d established with, y’know, a planet made of gunpowder.
The turning point occurs around the time that Mad Joey looks at the workhorse and sees it lying dead on the ground. You see him almost drop his persona in the line “I killed my mu- mom”; he soon drops the drawl entirely.
After the twist is revealed, the dissonance ramps up to eleven. I’m particularly happy with the exchange “Cowboys are so fucking cool, mum” / “Shh. You don’t have to be a cowboy to be cool.” Also, “You did crimes, Joel. I’m sorry. I know I’m your mum, but crimes are against the law.” Something I’ve always found is that, in real life, emotionally-charged moments like this are often very ugly things, where the things people say would seem very strange to an outsider. Mad Joey’s attempt to walk on his hands serves to emphasise this theme.
In terms of the story’s main theme, it’s... kind of a story about shilling? Or at least, within the context of #writing itself, it’s about doing things you don’t really want to do just for the sake of being known, of having people pay attention to you. Ultimately, the story presents this as something harmful - it almost leads to Mad Joey’s oblivion - and says that resolution comes from people who already care as opposed to the nebulously-defined world at large.
I paid a fair bit of attention to the presentation of the story, because I wanted to draw people into it. Once I’d written it, I deliberately cut it down until it fit on four pages instead of four-and-a-bit; I thought people’d be more inclined to read a four-page story than a five-page one. I’ve been trying to minimise my use of italics for a while now - it’s a crutch, and it causes trouble when copying text around - which I suppose would hypothetically make it easier for people to post quotes in Discord without having to mess around adding markdown back in. There are a couple of places where I had no choice but to use italics, but for the most part I think this was a successful effort.
The plan, once I’d drawn readers in, was to challenge them. The use of profanity is excessive. The story’s central conceit doesn’t make a lot of sense. The twist is contrived. The ending doesn’t quite feel complete. Like Mad Joey’s own persona, this was, to a certain extent, an attention-seeking stunt. Why, then, was this story met with abject silence?
See, #writing is slow enough that most of its users see everything that happens there. A lot of other stories got feedback of some kind. If you think I’m going somewhere with this, I’m not - I was genuinely quite perplexed by this response, and still am. Oh well. The three winning entries all turned out to be genuinely better than my own - which I was glad for, because the thought of this piece o’ shit being the best thing the Homestuck Discord could muster is pretty depressing.
Speaking of depressing, the second contest is in a very strange limbo at the moment, having received only a handful of entries and having provoked little to no discussion. I’ve been pretty busy working on other stuff, and wasn’t too fussed on the prompts, so I guess I’m at least partially to blame for that. Hopefully the channel will flourish a little more in the future...
If you enjoyed this story, you might enjoy the short stories I wrote for the r/WritingPrompts subreddit a couple of years ago, which can be found under the header What Our Future Looks Like on the list of things I made. Some of them are pretty ropey, so read at your own risk! In terms of my longer works, I recommend checking out Retrace Steps.
See you space cowboy...
0 notes
Text
Trainer Dana’s Bio
Art done by Pokemohn
Name: Adanais “Dana” Estrella María Sanchez
Pronunciation: Ah-day-nas Ehs-treh-ya Ma-Ree-Ah Sahn-chez
Birthday: July 19 (9 yrs)
Height: 3’5”
Occupation: Child Pageant Star (formerly), Team Skull Grunt (Currently)
Family: Elise (mother), Rick (father), Diana (twin sister), Finn (brother)
Ethnicity: Hispanic, Japanese, and English.
Face Claim: Yotsuba from Yotsuba&! (manga)
Voice Claim: Ponyo
Status: Primary Virus
Race: Human
On Elise’s side of the family:
On Rick’s side of the family:
Background: Dana was born to Elise and Rick Sanchez in the Kanto Region. The family lived in the Kanto Region until Dana was three years old. Previously, Dana’s parents had worked for Team Rocket but they were fired before Dana was born. As soon as Dana was born, Rick began doing DNA experiments on her in an attempt to get back in Team Rocket. While he successfully gave Dana her electrokinesis, he did not gain the fame he sought. Instead, he was ridiculed in the Kantonian science community, which caused him further distress. Rick was unable to get another job, and the family was forced to flee to the Hoenn region. The couple did not have enough money to support themselves after arriving in the Hoenn region, which forced them to work odd jobs until Dana was six. Rick and Elise decided to move to Lilycove, and apply to Team Magma when Rick got laid off his sales clerk job in Rustboro City. Until then, Dana did not have a lot of contact with other children and therefore did not have a lot of friends. She was further isolated when living in the Lilycove Hotel while her parents worked. Unknown to her parents, Dana often went off on her own to the Pokemon Safari, where she met a Drifloon. This particular Pokemon often stole children away, and it dragged Dana to the Alola region where she found Mimikyu, Tirtouga, and Drifblim. While in Alola, Dana made many friends and started to hang around Team Skull.
Over time, Elise and Rick’s relationship began to worsen the more Rick drank, and Elise finally divorced him after a bitter and violent argument about Dana. Elise took him to court and won full custody of Dana after which she quit her job at Team Magma and moved with Dana to the Alola Region. Elise re-established contact with her parents and they gave her back her inheritance which she lost after marrying Rick. Dana now lives in a nice house overlooking the sea on Akala Island. Dana still goes and visits Team Skull in Po Town and her friends in Aether at the Aether Paradise.
Update: After transfering to the Galar region, Dana was endorsed by Bede and completed the first four gyms, but she lost against Bede. She plans to rematch him.
Family Information: Rick’s grandfather Keitaro has a dance house dojo in Ecruteak City that is run by Rick’s aunt Masako. Takako, his cousin, is unable to take the next position to be dance master, so Dana is next in line to be one.
Appearance: Dana has brown hair and pupil-less blue eyes. Her dress is handmade and purple in the style of Drifloon. There is a yellow X stitched onto the front along with two black circles. Her most iconic accessory is her Drifloon headband, which she never removes. Dana wears black church shoes.
Hobbies: Collecting rocks, making friends, and annoying Team Skull.
Gaming Systems: Wii, 3Ds, Game Boy, Game Boy SP, Nintendo DS, Xbox, Playstation, and Playstation Two.
Personality: Dana is a very outgoing child who enjoys making friends. Because of her Asperger's Syndrome, she has a very hard time responding appropriately to social situations. At times she can get hostile, but only when she thinks she is in danger. Another one of her oddities is how she refuses to take off her headband. Dana hates the way her head feels without and gets very upset when it is taken from her. Dana is very impulsive and does not think before she acts, unlike Batty who is very careful about everything she does. Being indecisive and impatient, Dana often jumps into situations she can't easily back out of, which makes it very hard for her to make the right decisions. People usually have to fix things for her as she is incapable of solving her own mistakes. Dana can also be very vulgar mouthed as she thinks it is cool to go around swearing, much to the dismay of the adults around her. Though Dana uses slang, she knows how to talk normally and only does so when she is serious. Aside from her selfish behavior when to comes to sharing toys, Dana is a very good, loyal, and cherished friend who you can rely on in times of need. Dana is also lively, open, easygoing, and lovely to speak to. Dana always has engaging conversations, though can sometimes stray from topic to topic with her own reasoning if something reminds her of something else. Dana is easy to annoy, irritable, surreal, odd, bizarre, and prone to flights of fancy. Sometimes she loses concentration because she is too busy daydreaming. Dana is a very blunt person who does not sugar coat things, but it really depends on the person when it comes to her responses. Despite always being sarcastic, Dana does not understand sarcasm well and it often goes over her head, taking things literally to the point of causing her and the speaker to become confused. Being patient is something Dana struggles with as she expects things to happen when she wants them to happen. Dana is often annoyed when she has to wait for things. Like most children, Dana believes everybody should be a mind reader: knowing what she wants or needs at all times when she needs/wants them. Dana often gets annoyed when nobody picks up on her wants or needs. Despite her selfish demeanor, she puts her friends first and enjoys helping them, though there are times where Dana wants others to cater to her wants and needs. Dana is very vocal when she does not get her way, and often says “i want this” or “i want that.” Dana does not struggle when it comes to her wants and needs, though, as stated above, she believes everybody should know what she wants or needs at all times. As said previously, Dana is very vocal and this is also true when it comes to her thoughts, which she cannot keep to herself. Dana often talks about how she thinks about certain things, not caring if the other person does not want to listen/ does not care about that particular topic. Often volatile, Dana is unpredictable and often does things on a whim, much to the annoyance of adults who can’t follow her sudden changes in demeanor or actions. Dana also: takes things personally, is adventurous, and a thrill seeker.
Interests: her casio, classical piano music, rap/hiphop, her headband, Drifloon, cheesecake, strawberries, metal/punk, rocks, cotton candy/bubblegum ice cream, tea parties and tea, mud, her squirt gun, grape soda, anime, double chocolate chip cookies, chocolate milk,
Dislikes: Spearow, Fearow, Murkrows, taking her headband off, the police, large bodies of water,
Headcanons: Dana is right handed, Dana can whistle but she can’t snap her fingers, she can’t swim, Dana almost drowned when she was younger, Dana has been to Juvie for a week for theft, Dana was bullied at school so her mother took her out, Dana listens to Usher and N.W.A, Dana is good at Dance Dance Revolution. Dana sucks on her hand, which is a bad habit.
Gaming Consoles she owns: Wii, 3Ds, Game Boy, Game Boy SP, Nintendo DS, Xbox, Playstation, and Playstation Two. But I need a Game Cube.
phone: one: DOCOMO FUJITSU F-03D GIRLS POPTEEN (smart phone)
DoCoMo SH-11C
(Flip phone)(purple)
LG Cyon Lollipop 2 Phone (pink)
Instruments: pianos: Casio Privia PX-870 and a Pink Casio SK-1
9Songs she can play: Dream On by Aerosmith, Fur Elise by Beethoven, learning the Turkish March by Mozart, House of the Rising Sun by the Animals, Bohemian Rhapsody,
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Forget What We’ve Been Told- Part Two
Alexander Hamilton x Eliza Schuyler
Hello! This is the second part of my first fanfic collab with the lovely @icanneverbesatisfied!
Rating: If you like angst and fluff there’s plenty of it. Also a bit nsfw?
Word Count: 1467
Brief Plot: After the war, Alexander asks for Eliza’s hand in marriage. They are head over heels, but unfortunatley Philip Schuyler refuses to give Alexander his blessing, and he forbids Alexander from ever seeing Eliza again. Angelica, in her selflessness, sets up meetings for the young and daring couple, making sure that their letters are read only by them, and not by Mr. Schuyler. Eliza’s father suddenly arranges a marriage for her, and Alexander and Eliza struggle to see each other for as long as they can before the wedding. Angelica, who knows what will happen, writes Alex, telling him he needs to stop this wedding; this is his last and only chance to get the girl…
—
Part Two:
“Eliza!” Peggy shouted, bursting into my room. I had been sitting at my desk, staring at the wall, trying desperately to rid the past weeks from my mind.
Those had been some of the worst days of my life, feeling stretched out like a dying man’s last breath. I had spent the following day locked in my room. I ate nothing, and only took sips of water when Angelica came in and forced me to drink something.
I only left the house at night, when the streets were deserted and no one could bother to ask me how I was doing, or bring up Alexander all over again.
Alexander. His name still hurt to think about, seeing as he had given up after I had left, deeming it a lost cause. It had hurt, then felt numb, then hurt all over again.
“Eliza!” Peggy shouted again, grabbing ahold of my shoulder and shaking me. I was pulled out of my miserable reveries, and looked up at her. “You need to do something, Eliza.” She urged, her thin eyebrows drawing together. “It's been nearly three weeks.”
“I'd rather stay here, thank you.” I said, trying to give her a smile that would reassure her that I was alright.
“I don't care what you'd rather do, Eliza. You're coming with me.” She said, and tugged me out of my chair. It fell to the ground with a heavy bang.
“Peggy, I just want to be alone.” I pleaded, and bent down to pick up the chair, setting it upright again.
“You've been alone for too long.” She reasoned, clicking her tongue. “One trip, and if that doesn't lift your spirits I'll leave you to wallow in sorrow.”
I sighed. “Alright, I'll go with you.”
--
“Isn't this nice?” Peggy asked me. “You know, sunlight? Fresh air? People?” She had taken me downtown, in hopes of reminding me of times when everything was at least a little better. “It's been so stuffy in that room of yours. Being locked away would drive me batty.”
“I guess. I just deal with my problems better alone.” I started, turning towards her.
“What you were doing wasn't dealing with your problems, it was creating more problems when there already were enough to begin with.”
“What problems could I possibly be creating by doing that?” I asked, genuinely smiling for the first time in a while.
“Well, wallowing in sadness helps absolutely nothing, you're scaring Angelica and I, you have to have sunlight to survive, and- oh my god it's Alexander.” She blurted, quickly whispering the last part.
“What?” I looked up, and around the street, scanning the faces for Alexander.
“He's right over there.” Peggy pointed into the crowd, and I was greeted with the side view of Alexander, his profile outlined by the sunlight.
“You better talk to him, because if you don't I may very well explode.” Peggy announced.
“I can't-.”
“You can, and you will.” She urged, her tone demanding. I shook my head, and she grabbed my arm, pulling me towards Alexander.
“Alexander, hello!” She said, smiling brightly. “How about you and Eliza talk, yes?” She said, pushing me towards him. I stumbled on the uneven ground, and Alexander caught me, holding my arms just above my elbows.
“Alexander.” I breathed out, the word barely a whisper. “Can I- Would it be alright if I could talk to you? Alone?” He nodded, pulling me towards a enclosed alleyway behind two buildings.
Once we were out of Peggy's direct line of sight, he gently cupped my face with his hands, dragging his thumb along my jawline. “Eliza… I’ve missed you so, so much.” He said, his face a mask of sorrow that made me want to cry all over again.
“Why did you leave? Why did you give me up?” I asked, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
“It was past midnight when I left, I had been talking with your father for hours after you went upstairs. God, it hurt so bad to leave but I had no other arguments to make. He refused to believe that I really do love you.”
“I love you too,” I whispered, hope blossoming in my chest.
Alexander’s eyes softened and he gently placed his lips on mine; a spark of electricity jumping between us. I let out a small gasp as he wrapped one of his arms around me, his other hand tangling slowly in my long hair.
“Eliza...” he breathed, nibbling at my lower lip.
“Alexander...” I wrapped my arms around his waist, taking in his scent. He smelled like rain and parchment. Alexander devoured my lips more hungrily, pushing me against the wall and closing all possible space between our trembling bodies. “Eliza.” he repeated again, and I rolled my head back in bliss as Alexander began peppering kisses down my neck. He nipped at my jaw and I let out a contented sigh. “Eliza...do you want to...”
I let out a small whine as he ran one of his hands across my chest, massaging it. My breath hitched and I hooked a leg around his waist, not caring about my dress riding up my leg.
“Well.” I heard someone proclaim, then clear their throat.
At the sound my head snapped to the entry to the alleyway, only to realize it was Peggy. Thank goodness. I quickly detached myself from Alexander, and she walked towards us, a small smirk playing across her innocent face. “I turned away for only a few seconds, but turn around to you two...” Peggy paused and ran a hand through her hair, “Going at it.” She hooked two of her fingers together, and flicked her eyebrows up, still smirking.
I felt my cheeks redden, and I pulled away from Alexander, who still had a protective arm wrapped around my waist. “I should go,” I said.
Alexander nodded thoughtfully, “I understand. When can I see you again?”
A bright smile lit up my face and Peggy came to stand next to me. “Alexander, how does tomorrow work for you?”
He ran a hand through my hair, smoothing a few coffee-colored strands behind my ear. “I wish I could see you sooner than that,” he murmured to me, and pressed a light kiss to my temple.
“Me too.”
“Tomorrow it is then. We’ll meet you here at the same time.” Peggy summarised, turning away and beginning to walk to the street, her daffodil colored dress disappearing around the corner.
“I’ll see you soon.” I stood on the tips of my shoes, and kissed Alexander’s lips one last time, before turning away and briskly walking after Peggy.
“Eliza?”
I turned slightly, “Yes?”
“Your lips are softer than the richest silks.”
A small sigh escaped my lips. “Thank you, Alexander.” I said softly, and turned.
--
“It’s strange that we ran into Alexander, don’t you think?” Peggy mentioned offhandedly, and I turned from the mirror, nodding.
“It was strange. I can’t wait to see him again, though.”
“I bet.” Peggy winked and rolled onto her back, grabbing a large pillow off my bed. “Oh, Alexander! Alexander, mwuah, mwuah, mwuah.” She glanced back at me expectantly.
“Peggy, are you jealous?” A teasing voice sounded from the doorway of my room before either of us could reply and I whipped around, only to see my eldest sister. “Eliza, you didn’t tell me you snogged Alexander today.” Peggy let out a snort.
“Congratulations on that, though.” Angelica came to stand next to my desk, and leaned against the wall. She blew a curly, cocoa-colored strand of hair from her face and idly ran her fingers across the wood. “I’m glad you saw him,” she said in a softer tone. “When are you planning on seeing him again?”
“Tomorrow.” Peggy interjected, having rolled back into a sitting position.
Angelica shook her head, and looked out the window, into the dark night. “That’s why I came up here. Dad is holding a party tomorrow. All three of us have to attend. I already tried to wheedle him out of our forced invitation-”
“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?” I asked, already knowing the answer. She shook her head, and I bit my bottom lip. Another day without seeing Alexander seemed like agony. “I’m going to go to bed.” I said, gently pushing Peggy off my bed and sliding underneath the fawn colored sheets. “Please close the door on your way out,” I mumbled, closing my heavy eyes.
“I’ll make sure you see Alexander soon,” I heard Angelica state, brushing a few stray strands of hair off my forehead.
I didn’t respond and heard a sigh, the sound of curtains being rustled, a set of footsteps leaving my room, then a door shutting quietly. I quickly fell into a dreamless sleep, dreading the next day.
-
@secretschuylersister @icanneverbesatisfied
Thanks for reading!
#eliza schuyler#angelica schuyler#nsfw?#peggy schuyler#alexander hamilton#hamilfic#fanfic#writing#collab
12 notes
·
View notes
Link
http://ift.tt/2ra7yF4
Meet Haley, a 20 year old. She’s no stranger to stress, that’s for sure. She’s nine months pregnant with the baby Jesus. She’s been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. She’s appeared on American Idol. She’s donated a kidney to her brother. Her uncle is Dr. Phil, and her father is famous rapper Eminem. Now which of the above statements are false? Well just about every single one of them, actually. Which shouldn’t come as a shock to any reader here, because this confused young woman was featured on Dr. Phil. It’s amazing what some people will say in order to get ratings on television. It’s enough to be called “cringe-worthy”. All the same, that doesn’t stop Haley (yes I realize she shares the same name as one of Eminem’s actual daughters), from going off about her delusions…in spite of evidence to the contrary. So sit back, and enjoy reading about some extra strange things you might not already have known about this perhaps delusional, attention-seeking young woman who thinks Eminem is her father.
#1 She Has Proof Her Dad Is Eminem So Haley does have one thing in common with one of Eminem’s daughters. Her name is Haley. It’s a different spelling, but at least she has that. And apparently she even has proof that Eminem is her father. Unfortunately Dr. Phil is in the way of the second photo, but there is a guy who looks not very much like Eminem there. With Haley as a baby. On the left is an actual photo of Eminem with his Hailie. There really is no match. And besides, Haley also thinks that Dr. Phil is her uncle. Of course, if Dr. Phil were Eminem’s brother, then there was something very strange about that family. And for sure Eminem would never admit to something like that. Haley has admitted that she was at least wrong about Dr. Phil, but she still doesn’t really seem sure. But proof is very relative to her…much like everyone she sees apparently.
#2 Her Family Thinks She’s Nuts! First of all, there is no resemblance to Eminem in any of these women. Hands down. Second of all, Haley’s sister and mother both think she’s gone into a “delusional tailspin”. And one can’t really blame them for thinking Haley is a bit crazy. After all, this is a girl who thought she, Eminem, Dr. Phil, and Jesus could all be related. Her sister is a bit more direct with how nuts she finds Haley. Her mom, on the other hand, actually just pretended to accept Haley being pregnant, when it was clearly either an obvious lie, or a delusion. I guess I’d struggle too if I was accused of sleeping with Eminem though. I think the above photo really does lay out the attitudes in these women very well. From left to right: Haley is clearly a bit off centre. Her sister simply refuses to accept Haley as anything but nuts. And her mom just can’t fathom what’s going on.
#3 She Claimed To Be Nine Months Pregnant At the time of one specific episode of Dr. Phil’s show, Haley had claimed to be nine months pregnant. That’s not insignificant by any means! She even went as far as to say she was due five days from when the show aired. That morning, a T.V. doctor had a nurse take an ultrasound of Haley’s abdomen. Of course, as seen in the photo above, there is absolutely nothing to see. By nine months, there should be a fully developed baby filling up about half of that screen. In typical Haley fashion, she denied that the ultrasound was even real, and she even told the doctor to “shove his ultrasound up his ass”. Which, let’s be honest, is kind of funny. And likely something the producers of the show told Haley to say anyway. One thing you can always count on in reality T.V. – how unrealistically funny it is.
#4 She Was Carrying The Baby Jesus! Oh it should be mentioned that, while Haley was faking a pregnancy on Dr. Phil’s show, she claimed that she was carrying a very special child. What child is this? Why the baby Jesus of course. And no, the father of her child wasn’t Latino. She actually believed that she was going to give birth to the Christian “saviour of the world”. Well…who knows if she actually believed it. She at least adamantly defended this position on the show. She wouldn’t trust seven pregnancy tests, nor a pelvic exam, nor even an ultrasound. She was convinced, in spite of all scientific fact, that she was going to be the new mother of Christ. Any church worth their weight in bullsh*t should have picked her up right away! They could have made a killing with her.
#5 She’s Got A Quick Temper Alright, so maybe her temper isn’t actually as quick as reality T.V. might make it seem. To her credit, Haley had been through therapy, and rehab, and several medications by the point of this incident. She was a small room with several people, being told that she should go back to treatment for a short period of time. Well she of course got upset by this. She did the treatment already, and thought that should be that. Then her mom started in on how she needed it. Well Haley wasn’t having that, and made to storm out. But Dr. Phil’s staff wouldn’t let her leave the room. If I were a paranoid schizophrenic, I would become quite agitated by being trapped in a small room like that, with people I know want to put me away. And of course she lost her mind. She started kicking furniture, almost slugged one of Dr. Phil’s guys, and screamed continuously in her mom’s face.
#6 She Was Born For Harvesting Organs Haley, as it turns out, has a half brother. I’m not sure if he’s from Haley’s mother’s half, or Eminem’s half, but he does actually exist. The relationship between Haley and this half brother must be quite strained though. Why, you might ask? Well Haley has it in her head that she’s actually only alive for one reason. And that’s for her organs to be harvested for her brother’s sake. She claims that she has already had a kidney taken from her, that was donated to her brother. Of course her mother denies this. And she’s not alone. Science also denies this. But Haley is quite adamant, and refuses to accept anyone’s proof to the contrary. It doesn’t help her that whenever someone shows her proof, it’s after the fact. If they showed her an active scan of her kidneys (plural), then maybe she’d be forced to accept some truth.
#7 She’s A Bit Paranoid A bit paranoid might be putting it mildly. This is a woman who, whenever she enters a room, must check every closet, and crevice to ensure that no one else is there waiting for her. Of course it’s not typically the case that someone is, but I guess you never know. Now this could just be a story she’s made up to accentuate the paranoid in “paranoid schizophrenic”. It’s not like she hasn’t made up stories before. Of course those stories could actually be delusions, and she could actually have a problem. It’s hard to accept that because she’s on T.V. with Dr. Phil, but it’s possible. And since every time she turns around, it seems someone is trying to put her away, her paranoia is not without some level of justification. So there’s at least that.
#8 Mom Is Not Helping Things At All As trying as I’m sure it must be to have a daughter who is as seemingly batty as Haley, her mom is not really helping matter in anyway. She’s the exact type of person who figures getting on to Dr. Phil’s show will be all she needs to do, and then he’ll pay for everything else. And then Haley will be all better. Ultimately I’m pretty sure she’s just given up as a mother. That or she’s an incredibly privileged brat. Either way, it seems her best solution is to keep sending Haley to this program or that, so she doesn’t need to deal with her. The truth of the matter is, if Haley really does have issues (which it seems pretty clear she does) she needs her mother to be on her side. That doesn’t mean that mom should say “hey look my little Haley is the mother of Jesus”, but it does mean that she has to actually be supportive. I know that, and I don’t have 20 years of being a T.V. doctor under my belt.
#9 Haley Diagnosed Herself…And She’s Not Wrong! So here’s why her family needs to be a bit more attentive, and supportive of Haley. Haley was the first person to say that she suffered from paranoid schizophrenia. This was a claim she made, without being officially diagnosed. She would tell everyone she had been, but it was a self-diagnosis, for sure. Her mom simply decided that Haley was putting on a show. A very extravagant, and committed show…but still a show. Well, it turns out that Haley is not wrong. She is being treated and medicated for paranoid schizophrenia. So how about that mom? And does she even for a second act like she made a mistake, just ripping on Haley for making things up? Nope. So Haley actually has issues that need to be dealt with. Issues beyond being just a compulsive liar.
#10 Some Improvement So yes, there was a time when Haley thought she was the mother of Jesus. And when she thought Eminem was her father. And when she thought Dr. Phil was her uncle. But as dead sure as she was about these things when she first appeared on the show, she has since recanted. That may seem pretty trivial, but that’s a pretty big thing for someone who actually suffers from schizophrenia. Of course these decisions flip flop based on what meds she’s on, and if she’s taking them regularly. But these are still predominantly understandings she now has. She knows, realistically, that these things did not occur. However, as much as she improved in that sense, there have been deeper, and darker discoveries regarding her state of mind.
#11 She Hears Voices… So Haley may have actually made some improvements throughout the number of episodes she’s graced with Dr. Phil. She doesn’t think she’s pregnant anymore. She doesn’t think Eminem is her father anymore either. But she is very aware that she hears voices. And that’s something completely apart. Now she did mention during her first visit with Dr. Phil that she looked up paranoid schizophrenic, and it described her. It could also just be that she looked it up, and decided to make herself the definition of schizo. After all, she didn’t start hearing the voices until after her treatment began. Maybe it’s the medication then? Ultimately, she’s either very good at faking, isn’t faking, or medication is causing her to have psychotic episodes. None of these options are really desirable.
#12 She Hears The Voice Of Jesus…Her Baby… So she’s given up on some delusions. But she hears voices now. And there are some generic voices in there, telling her that her mom is out to get her and what not. And really…her mom is ultimately out to get Haley put away, but that’s besides the point. There is a pretty important voice that she’s hearing in her head. It’s her baby! The baby that she already admitted she wasn’t really having after all. The baby Jesus! Yes, apparently she hears her baby Jesus talking to her from time to time. What does he say? I’d assume nothing because he’s a baby…but he’s also Jesus, so there is that. Apparently he assures Haley that he is alive, and doing well. Which is…pretty special. And kind of on the nose for Christianity. Much like the “real” Jesus: a lot of people claimed to see him, but there’s not proof, but he still talks to people.
#13 Even Her Church Thinks She’s Nuts! So Haley is a good, church-going American…or at least she was. But her church has come out to say that she’s nuts. They didn’t use those exact words, but they clearly think she’s crazy. Why? Ok, yes she did claim to be carrying the baby Jesus inside her. But really how is that too far from anything her church believes? I think it’s actually amazing that her church had enough integrity to not use her as a huge publicity stunt. “The girl who carries the second coming of Christ!” They would fill seats in that church faster than you could say “Billy Graham”. People go to see statues that cry vegetable oil. If you ask me, I think this church of Haley’s missed out on a great business opportunity. Or they have some surprising integrity…or they fail to see the similarity between her story and theirs.
#14 How Did She Get Pregnancy Medicaid? Ok, so Haley’s whole deal with Dr. Phil started when she was claiming to be pregnant…with baby Jesus. After seven pregnancy tests, it was pretty clear that she wasn’t even in the smallest bit pregnant. But while she can’t seem to hold down a job, or move out of her mother’s house now that she’s an “adult”…she seems perfectly able to get on Medicaid. And what’s more, she managed to get pregnancy benefits from Medicaid! I’m not an American, so I’m not fully sure, but don’t you have to prove you’re pregnant before you start on that policy? Apparently not! And somehow this fact is hardly touched on during the several episode Dr. Phil production that was Haley’s life for a while. Could she have been pregnant all along? I mean at the start. Obviously not when the ultrasound came back totally clean nine months later.
#15 Knifing The Neighbours!? Relax. She didn’t actually knife the neighbours. Not exactly. But apparently she did pull a knife on her neighbours. Now there is no proof of this, other than Haley’s word. And let’s face it, her word is about as factual as the beautiful baby Jesus. And Haley has not been charged for threatening anyone with a weapon. But take a close look at the photo above. Look at it for a minute. And after you get past the thought of whether or not you’d sleep with her…ask yourself if you think she’s capable of pulling a knife on someone. Considering how she acted when trapped off set when she was dealing with Dr. Phil’s assistant, I would not be surprised if she made the news for pulling a knife on mom. After all, her mom is the one who keeps trying to put her away. On the other hand, her mom is also the only one who is financially supporting her in any way (other than Uncle Dr. Phil).
Source: TheRichest
0 notes