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flowercrown-bucky · 4 years

Text

Anything can piss you off, you just have to try hard enough.

rrFandom: 1970s!Loki Multi-Chapter

Pairing: Loki x ConArtist!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, drug references, later death, later smut, crime, loki and the reader are con artists….. It’s a wild one y’all, hold onto yo’ seats..

Word Count: Lots

Chapter One | Chapter Two

[Something Wicked This Way Comes - Chapter Three]

Loki’s life on Asgard has become vapid; uninspiring. He’s got the taste for a little danger. During a trip to earth, he finds just the danger he’s looking for.A partner in crime - in every imaginable sense.

Author’s Note: The boy with the thorn in his side is absolutely Loki’s anthem. Also Loki is a soft sweet baby and if you disagree you can absolutely fuck off,

TAGLIST IS OPEN - EITHER COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME TO BE ADDED

The boy with the thorn in his side

Behind the hatred there lies

A murderous desire for love

How can they look into my eyes

And still they don't believe me?

How can they hear me say those words

Still they don't believe me?

And if they don't believe me now

Will they ever believe me?

Loki was rather beginning to like Earth.

Specifically, this little corner. He’d been to Spain before, during the time of an inquisition, and was generally less than impressed. So, Castellon was a pleasant surprise.

After the interesting experience with Roger Slater, you’d mutually agreed to get away from Monaco, sharpish.

It hadn’t bothered Loki so much as he thought it was weird, but it bothered you more than you were letting on. You never said it in as many words, but your behaviour changed.

The unusual encounter had initially been dismissed by you both, left without so much as another word. But after two days of your head snapping round every time you heard footsteps behind you and sitting bolt upright every time he shifted at night, he knew it was bothering you, so you decided another destination was for the best. You hung around for a few days to avoid suspicion, before leaving the hotel you had been in. A little under forty euros later, you were tucked into your seats on the overnight train to Montpellier.

You’d settled a little more once you were in a different country, but it left Loki wondering what exactly the strange man had whispered in your ear that had you tip-toeing on your nerves in that way. He’d even considered entering your mind again, but the one time he’d decided to give it a crack had not gone so well. As soon as his hand came within five centimetres of your sleeping form, your own had reached out and grabbed his wrist, your eyes flying open.

He watched you now as you sat across from him, stabbing a mushroom with your fork and swiping it through the sauce on your plate. A few strands of your hair fluttered in the gentle breeze, the evening sun warming your complexion. You looked softer in the warm light, less harsh somehow, as if someone had taken an eraser to your edges.

Just the night before, you’d successfully seduced and robbed a man who happened to be in possession of diamonds of a karat higher than you could count and in greater quantities than you could fit into your pockets. You’d been so pleased with your conquest that the worry you’d carried on your face for days had slipped, spinning circle after victorious circle across the plaza’s stone labyrinth.

Your good mood had continued through to the morning. In the two months or so he had known you, every single day you had vanished at roughly nine o’clock, for about an hour and a half. What you did in that time, he had no idea.

This morning, however, you had led him through the city centre, along bleached pedestrian streets and through winding alley ways to a tiny shop just off the street, with a small orange sign barely visible through the grubby glass and a mouthwateringly savoury smell wafting out the door and down the street.

You’d greeted the owner with surprising geniality, quietly asking for a cortado - he would later discover this was pretty much the full extent of your Spanish - and something he didn’t quite catch. You accepted your coffee and a small paper bag, with a quiet muchisimas gracias.

Blinking the bright morning light out of his eyes, he’d unfolded the brown bag, reaching inside and feeling around for the contents. It was soft and slightly springy to the touch, and drawing it out into the light revealed it to be a small cake, golden brown in colour and wrapped in a white casing.

“Breakfast.” Was all you’d said as he’d eyed it curiously. He was pleasantly surprised to discover - after a first tentative bite - that it was sweet and buttery, the fluffy sponge melting in his mouth, leaving his mouth empty but for the remaining traces of sugar and lemon on the tip of his tongue. You’d laughed as he all but inhaled the remaining cake, the most genuinely happy laugh he’d heard from you since you’d met.

He considered this as he watched you chew.

Loki was staring at you. Really quite intently. He was looking at you as if you’d kicked his very favourite puppy as you swallowed your mouthful. You glanced down at his plate, noticing it was still mostly full, his cutlery disregarded atop his napkin.

Your Spanish was not wonderful, but you were familiar enough with some of the more common dishes to have a vague idea of the menu’s contents, enough so to give you freedom of choice, safe in the knowledge of what you’d ordered. Loki, however, favoured the ‘point-and-hope’ technique.

You looked more closely at the contents of his plate. Perhaps he didn’t like fish.

You thought momentarily back to your trip to the market. Being in a town with a seaport, the seafood was excellent, and you’d wanted Loki to try fresh mussels.

You almost laughed at the memory of his disgusted response. Perhaps it was the fish.

Your own - fishless - dish seemed a little more Loki friendly, so you scooped up a forkful of beans and sauce, holding it out towards him.

He looked at you with complete bewilderment.

“Try a bit.” You waved the fork in your hand. “You don’t seem keen on yours.”

“No, it’s fine.” He dismissed you. “The food is good.”

“Then what’s with the staring?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, no.” He replied. “Just. Thinking.”

“About what?” You asked, returning your fork to your plate, instead reaching for your wine glass.

“You.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Me. Life.”

“Do go on.” You took a sip, savouring the taste as the bubbles slipped down your throat.

“I was thinking about my mother.” He admitted. “How much she would like it here.”

“What’s she like?” You asked. “Your mother.”

“She’s the most wonderful woman in the universe.” He smiled wistfully. “The kindest, the wisest, the cleverest.”

“So why did you leave?” You continued, intrigued by the sudden nostalgia in his eyes. He had told you virtually nothing about himself or his past, always dismissing it as a matter for another time.

“Truthfully?” He bit his lip. “I left because I was bored.”

You leaned back in your chair, mulling this new information over in your mind.

“When will you go back?” It was a question that had been plaguing you for a week or so. Would he just leave in the night if the mood took him? He had every right to, you knew, but a part of you wished he wouldn’t. You had come to enjoy his presence, to almost cherish his company. For the first time in a long while, you were not alone, and it felt good. Loki irritated you beyond belief - although it hadn’t taken you long to realise that this was fully intentional - and he was just about as stubborn as you were. You bickered constantly, but he had warmed a little part of your heart and you knew you would miss your companion greatly if he decided to sever your paths.

“Perhaps never.” The look on his face told you he knew exactly why you were asking. “Perhaps tomorrow. I shall decide as the mood takes me.”

Satisfied that this was the closest to an answer you were ever going to pry from Loki, you lifted your fork to your mouth. As you chewed, you decided to switch up your line of questioning.

“Tell me more about your mother.” You lifted your arm to rest the weight of your head on your knuckles. “Or your brother. Your childhood home. Your first pet. Anything.” “Do I sense an ulterior motive?” His left eyebrow quirked bemusedly.

“I have at least eighteen ulterior motives, at all times.” You could not help the smile that came across your face. “But I do struggle to envision you as a child. Or anything other than the unsufferable prick I know you to be, really. Throw me a bone, would you?”

“So, do you spend a lot of time thinking about me?” He rocked forwards onto his elbows, his eyes glittering with mischief.

“I should’ve killed you when we first met.” You drawled.

Loki laughed. A rich, full bodied noise rumbling through his chest and echoing through the warm evening air, his head tipped back as if it simply could not support the weight of his mirth.

“Alright.” His laughter subsided, reduced to a smile. “What do you wish to know?”

Your sudden interest in Loki’s life had taken him back a little. You had never seemed one for nostalgia, so a sudden fondness for trivial reminiscing about whimsical exploits and innocent mishaps seemed out of character. He wondered what your play was.

He glanced up at you, at your earnest expression. If you were attempting to extract information from him for personal gain, you were hiding it well.

“Anything.” You replied. “Everything.”

He paused for a moment, thinking over what you’d said, sifting through his memories, carefully considering his next move.

He told you stories of sitting in the apple orchard as a boy. He told you stories of playing in lakes, stories of tumbles with his brother, lunches with his mother. He told tales of climbing trees that seemed to stretch higher than the sky and of gazing at stars that seemed to stretch on beyond the edge of the universe. He told you of friends, of past loves, of heartbreaks.

You hung on his every word as he spoke, your face enthralled. He felt as though he could talk forever just to see the wonder on your face as he told you all the stories a mischievous blue eyed boy could possibly seek to hold.

“What about pets?” You asked, twirling a lock of your hair around one finger. “Did you ever have one, you know, as a kid?”

A breath hitched in his throat. He blinked once, not entirely sure how to respond.

As a teenager, he had indeed had a pet. Well, not a pet, exactly. A stray, a ward, of sorts. A horse.

He’d been reading in his chambers one day when a servant informed him that the Allfather had summoned him. Assuming himself to be in trouble - as he often was - he had hurried to the throne room. Instead of being reprimanded, however, his father had led him into the palace grounds, saying he had something for him.

In the stables, there had been a foal.

No more than a few months old, it stood in the stall, dripping wet and braying pitifully.

“It has become estranged from its mother.” Odin explained. “Alone, it is not long for this world. It needs love and care if it is to survive.”

He looked up at his father with confused eyes.

“With a steady hand, it will grow to be strong and nimble.” He continued. “With the right guidance, he will become a fine companion for a warrior. I believe that hand could be yours, my boy.”

He looked from his father, to the calf, and back to his father again. Dumbfounded, he felt was the appropriate word. This timid, trembling little creature, a cavalry steed? It was almost laughable.

“His name is Gustav, for he shall indeed become your staff.” His father followed his line of vision. “A loyal steed is both the most formidable weapon and strongest friend a king could hope to possess. Treat him with love and kindess and he will teach you more than you thought possible in return.”

And he did. Initially, the foal did not respond well to him. He would not stand near him, would barely look at him, would not even eat whilst he was present. It seemed almost as if it would never grow to trust him, but he tired through, and eventually the horse grew to eat from his hand. It would allow him to brush its mane without kicking out at him, and when Gustav grew strong enough to carry Loki’s weight, he broke him himself - despite the stable master’s constant offers of assistance - leading him all the way to saddling, until finally, he was ready to ride.

Every day, Loki turned him out, even when the ground was hard and the frost had fallen. Riding soon became his favourite thing, and the sight of the dark prince taking off into the night atop an equally dark stallion became commonplace. Victorious in battle and at peace within the elements, they were nothing short of unstoppable.

Loki’s carefully built world came crashing down on him when Gustav was shot in the leg. Whilst the wound appeared superficial, it soon got infected and started to poison his blood. He grew weaker with each passing day, and nothing Loki could do would help him.

When Odin told him that Gustav was to be put down, it broke his heart, but never had he expected to be the one delivering the death blow.

“You must learn to make sacrifices if you are to ever be a strong ruler.” He had told him. “You must cast aside matters of the heart in aid of the greater good.”

He stroked Gustav’s mane gently, kneeling down in his stall beside where he lay in the dirt. His dark head bent, resting his head on the stallion’s dark nose in a final goodbye. He had practised the spell he had created to end Gustav’s life, intending it to be painless, but he could not have prepared himself for the loss he felt as the life drained from his eyes.

“It is done.” Was all he’d said as he turned to face his father, unable to make sense of anything he was feeling.

“You did well, my son.” Odin nodded at him, granting him permission to leave. Thor and Frigga stood a few feet away from the stall, but for once, he did not find their presence comforting. His brother held out a reassuring hand towards him, but he brushed it off as he strode past, head held high.

He did not turn at any point as he walked back to his chambers, for fear that if he did he would return to Gustav’s lifeless body and weep to the heavens.

Only once he had returned to his chambers and dismissed the servants that were waiting for his arrival did he allow himself to cry.

Curled in a ball on the cold stone floor, his long legs drawn into his chest, knees tucked under his chin, Loki, Crown Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies, wept.

He wept for the loss of a truly innocent soul, wept for the loss of his truest friend. He wept for the truest, most unconditional love he had ever known, the likes of which he thought he might never know again.

It was like this that Frigga found him, noiselessly sobbing on the floor, staring into the fireplace with a blank expression on his face.

He glanced up at her as she entered, his face stained with tears, green eyes bloodshot and red rimmed, his bottom lip trembling, a few stray locks of dark hair splaying across his face.

“Mother.” He croaked, the dying embers of the fire illuminating his face. She hurried over to him, crouching next to his trembling form and throwing her arms around him. He sobbed harder at the feeling of her soft hair against his face, breathing in the sweet smell of her perfume.

“Oh, my sweet boy.” She murmured, cradling him to her chest. “I am so sorry it had to end this way.”

She stroked her hand over his hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head as she rocked him back and forth.

“Your heart is too pure for this cruel world, my sweet, precious boy.” She whispered to him. “ You feel such pain now, my darling, but this storm shall pass and the sun will shine on you once again.”

Loki wept in his mother’s arms all through the night. When the sun rose, they both departed his chambers to tend to their duties. Eyebrows were raised and hushed rumours spread of the dark prince’s icy heart finally melting, but life went on.

Loki never spoke of Gustav again, but every time he passed by his stall, his father’s words echoed in his mind.

You must cast aside matters of the heart in aid of the greater good.

He would never forget those words as long as he lived.

“Loki?” Your voice snapped him back to the present. “You good? You spaced out for a minute there.”

“I’m fine.” He replied. “Yes, I did have a pet once.”

You looked at him curiously, but decided not to pursue it.

“Anyway, I told you about me. It’s your turn.” He leaned back in his seat. “I have my own questions.”

“Ask away.” If you were concerned about what he might ask, your face didn’t show it.

“Where do you go every morning?” He began. It had been pressing on his mind for some time.

You choked back a laugh.

“Is that all?” You scoffed. “If you must know, I go to get coffee and go for a walk. Does that satisfy you?”

His posture slumped a little in disappointment. He had been hoping for something a little more... Clandestine.

“Why do you sleep with a gun under your pillow?” He pressed. “What are you so afraid of?”

Your face hardened almost as soon as the words left his mouth, and he wished he could snatch them back out of the air and swallow them back up. The silence that hung over the table was almost unbearable, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he stared at you. Your expressions were a mask, but he knew you were carefully considering your next words.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Loki remained silent. He had crossed a line, and you both knew it.

The walk back to the hotel room was silent and awkward. Loki rubbed at the sleeve of his blue shirt awkwardly, glancing around him. The street was quiet, save for a few other pedestrians, and dark, save for a handful of intermittently placed streetlights.

You were a few steps ahead of him, your arms crossed at the elbow. You hadn’t spoken since you’d left the restaurant, and he wasn’t really sure what to say. The easygoing nature you had adopted during the day was gone, and you were suspiciously glancing around you. What you were looking for, Loki could not hazard to guess.

You stopped suddenly, turning to stare behind him, at something in the distance. He opened his mouth to ask if you were okay, when he noticed your bottom lip trembling slightly.

Whatever you had just seen, had frightened you.

He reached over to you, rubbing your shoulder with one hand, the other lifting your chin gently. You lifted your gaze to meet his as he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

“Are you alright, little mortal?” His voice was low as to not be overheard. “You look startled.”

“Let’s just go back to the hotel.” You whispered.

He nodded in response, slinging one arm over your shoulder. Picking up your pace as much as you could without appearing suspicious, you hurried back to the hotel. You were visibly unnerved, although you tried to hide it.

Back in your room, you perched on the end of the bed, your shoes clutched in one hand. You rubbed at your nose absentmindedly with the back of your knuckle.

He called your name but you didn’t seem to hear him.

“Tell me.” He dropped to his knees in front of you. “What is going on?”

You wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Whatever is happening,” He continued. “I need to know. What did you see?”

You closed your eyes before inhaling deeply.

“I think I’m being trailed.” You whispered, flicking your gaze down to meet his. “Someone, maybe a few people, I don’t know, have been following me. Have been for a few days now.” “Trailed?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The first time I noticed was in Zaragoza.” You ran a hand through your hair nervously. “There was a man stood behind us when we checked in, just stood there, watching. Then I kept seeing him in the lobby, just milling around, like he was waiting for something. Then I didn’t see him again, and I just assumed I was being paranoid.”

Loki said nothing.

“Then when we were in a restaurant one night, I noticed someone else a few tables away, just staring. He had sunglasses on, so I don’t know if it was the same man, but I’ve been seeing people everywhere. Just watching. Watching, and waiting.”

“Watching for what?” He asked. “Waiting for what?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head.

“But why?” He continued. “Why would someone be following you?”

You lifted your hands to your face, hiding from his view.

“Why would someone want to go to such lengths, travel such distance?” His voice dropped. “Who would want to trail you across a country?”

Your silence spoke volumes.

“Do you know who is following you?” He looked up at you. “If you know what is going on, you have to tell me.”

You rose from the bed, turning your back to him.

“I’m tired.” You said. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“If we are in danger, and there is something you are not telling me-” His voice raised, his temper flaring.

“Goodnight, Loki.” You snapped, rolling under the cover.

He sighed in frustration, climbing onto the bed himself. He lay there, in the dark, for some time, considering your words. Was someone tailing you? Had there been things he missed? Just how had he missed it? His mind spun with a million unanswered questions.

The longer he considered it, sifting through his own memories of the previous three weeks, the deeper the realisation sunk. You had been right, you were being followed.

To the unsuspecting mind, it was easy to miss. No average person would pick up on it, but the signs were there.

People walking a few paces behind you for a kilometre or so before turning off and fading into the distance. The same faces appearing behind you in queues at the supermercado for days on end. Men in dark clothes sitting a little too close at lunch or bumping into you in the street.

If you weren’t expecting it, it would be easy to miss. Unnoticeable, in fact.

But that was what Loki found most troubling. You were expecting it.

He was more certain than he’d ever been that you were hiding something. Something big.

Being the God of Lies, hiding things and deceiving people was not new to him, nor did it entirely bother him. But whatever your secret was, he was certain it had something to do with the two of you being trailed. It was too much of a coincidence for him to overlook.

Whoever it was scared you witless, and that frightened him more than anything.

TAGLIST: @chxrryycola @the-middle-oldest-child @possessedjoker@amour-delicate @marvelouslyme96 @the-emo-asgardian @lokilvrr

#loki x reader #tom hiddleston x reader #loki smut #tom hiddleston smut #Loki Laufeyson #tom hiddleston #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #thor the dark world #thor ragnarok

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alexlabhont · 4 years

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I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter Six

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing: Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Ehm... 13 years < , I mean, is not that hard, but just to be sure.

Warnings: This chapter contains transphobia and the writer’s own version of dysphoria. This doesn't mean every trans person feels the same, but it is a possibility I wanted to share. Thank you.

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

CHAPTERS

The beginning

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

——————————————————————

Beck arrived home around two in the morning or so. They walked all the way to Belvoire, not caring about the cold, the dangers of the night, the strange people treating to appear… it didn’t matter, because they didn’t even notice it.

Poppy didn’t try to reach out either, she didn’t even go after them and Beck was thankful for it. Maybe they owe her an explanation, but right now, the only thing Beck wanted was to be left alone. The feelings inside their heart and brain were so many and with so different meanings that it felt like a whole honeycomb full of buzzing, noisy and altered bees without any rest.

They wanted Poppy...

But they didn’t deserve her…

But why…?

They were a human; they could be with her…

But sometimes, being human was not enough…

What kind of human was Beck...?

Beck was different from anyone.

They don't really belong.

They never did.

Therefore, they couldn’t have anything that was for people that did belong.

Otherwise, they'd be cheating the others…

So they didn’t deserve it.

And that’s the path they chose. A double-edged weapon. Being what they were it was complicated. The worse part isn’t being treated differently by people and, sure, that is awful sometimes. The worse part is the confusing shit one would tell to themselves sometimes.

There would be days when one is happy, completely sure, confident, ready to take upon the world. One felt invincible, one felt good-looking, one felt that every little thing and time invested into being happy was worth it, was the cure, was the thing they absolutely needed it.

Because it is.

But sometimes, one realized it came with a price. With mental confusion, with hollowness inside just because of something so banal to others that’s so precious to one. Sometimes, the dysphoria would knock at one's door to remind one that one is a Mr. Roboto. A Mr. Roboto who doesn’t deserve human things.

Beck didn’t even process when they arrived home, nor when they lay down on the couch, the gaze completely lost into the ceiling. Were they even blinking?

“Beck?... Is that you?” They heard Zoey coming towards them. But they didn’t care. At least not right now. They needed a time off.

But of course, Zoey didn’t read minds, so she kept walking, pajamas on, her curly hair falling effortlessly over her shoulders, a worry look impressed in the chocolate of her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” No response. Their mind was already back at the Club, feeling Poppy's lips moving perfectly along theirs. “Beck?... Are you alright?”

“No. I really want her, Zo… I want Poppy so badly…”

“Just tired.” They lied. How can one explain something like this to a human like her? Inside them all was clear, but it was a completely different world to her. Of course, Zoey didn’t buy it for a second. But she knew them, and she wouldn’t push it.

“Come to bed?” she asked, holding a blanket over her shoulders. Beck saw it, and it was just until that moment, a part of their brain felt connected to reality. Outside was freezing, and Beck’s body was cold, trembling for who knows how long.

“Y-yeah… I’m coming.” They managed to stand up, following Zoey through the living room, reaching shortly the door of their own bedroom.

“Beck?”

“Yes?”

“You do know you can tell me anything, right?” Beck stood still a while, asking for more information, an explanation. Why was she asking that? “I know something happened there, and I won’t ask you to tell me. I just wanted to let you know I have your back. Always”

And there it was. The reason why Zoey was the only person Beck trusted. But right at that moment, they couldn’t tell her exactly what was going on inside their heart. She almost begged them not to go to the club with Poppy, she believed that the strawberry blonde was onto something bad, and they couldn’t blame her. After all, Beck would thought exactly the same if it where any other person but them.

“I know, Zo… Thank you.” They said before walking into their room to throw themselves on their bed. Beck just wanted to sleep, to end that day. But it was impossible.

Her lips, her taste… her smell… her touch… everything. Poppy was completely inside their mind now, because that kiss felt heavenly good. It was like a real connection, like if Poppy really wanted them. But Beck was afraid.

Someone as beautiful as Poppy could have anyone she wanted, why would she be interested in them?

Why would she actually stayed with Beck?

Maybe it was just the moment, the song, the mood. Maybe it was just a one-time thing, a meaningless kiss she suddenly wanted to have. But even if it wasn’t, surely she soon would see that being with Beck was actually different from what she was expecting. Poppy would most likely get bored and leave them as soon as possible.

Maybe people back at Farmsville were right, maybe no real girl would ever be satisfied with them…

“Shut the fuck up, Beck.” They murmured to themselves. “You’re just being paranoid…”

Yes, that was true.

But, in order to avoid the pain, they needed to draw the line.

The far they stayed from Poppy Min-Sinclair, the better

~~X~~

“Thanks for walking me class, babe.” Zoey said with a friendly smile, stopping aside from her classroom door. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me? You love this class.”

“Completely.” They responded. “I have to finish my project for Professor Myra and I haven’t even started it yet because someone won’t let me a second to rest.” Zoey laughed playfully before pretending to be insulted.

“Oh, so now is my fault?” she asked, and Beck couldn’t help but give her a grin.

The last couple of days, Zoey and Beck had been doing basically everything together, even more than before. Zoey was continuously insisting them to join her in her classes when Beck had free time but not Zoey, to have lunch outside campus, she even managed to get tickets in first line to one of the first TBD concerts in New York, which was basically huge because Beck was a wholeheartedly fan of theirs, they even had a little crush on Kaitlyn Liao for a while.

Even The T had started to question the true nature of the relationship, which was something understandable, but neither of them was really paying attention to it. After all, why should they give any explanation to anyone?

“Yes! It’s basically your fault, Zoey Wade.” Beck laughed, they weren’t mad at all. Zoey was a very responsible girl putting the school first. Professor Myra's project it was basically an essay about the meaning of music according to Sulzer theory. Easy-peasy. That’s why it was the last one left.

“But… you can’t say you didn’t enjoy it.” She winked at them, flirty as always.

“Go to class, honey” The smile on their faces was huge, happy, trusting. Beck was feeling so lucky to have Zoey next to them. She was the best friend and artist they could’ve asked for.

“See ya later, then.”

“See ya.”

The corridors of Belvoir were huge, elegant, eccentrically decorated. While walking through them, Beck started wondering what was the original purpose of the building. It was always meant to be a school or somebody bought the property to actually live there? Beck looked around a little more, trying to find a detail who could give them a clue, but instead, the thing that caught up their interest, was a little, purple ad.

“Rock’s style band is searching for a lead singer…”

Beck stopped a little, rather curious. Reading the ad, Beck discovered a lot of basic information: they played alternative, rock pop, rock metal, among others, and needed a lead singer before the Battle of the Bands. They weren’t aware there was one of those things there in Belvoire.

Beck took the paper in their hand, interested in what they had to offer, and maybe ask for details later. But suddenly, the sound of high heels walking angry towards them caught their attention.

There, at the end of the hall, was the very Poppy Min-Sinclair. And she definitely saw Beck. They gulped, but stood still. They weren’t a full coward, if something was about to happen, let it be at once.

“Hey, tranny!” They heard someone yelling from behind. Confused and angry, Beck turned around, ready to deal with whoever was calling them like that with such a despicable tone, but what they got was not a conversation, but a fist right to their mouth.

The hit was so hard, it managed to make them wobble a little, only to be pinned aggressively against the wall by the collar of their sweater.

“I tolerate you being your disgusting self. But don’t ever dare to drag my woman into your shit.” A guy, a random guy was looking at them with repulse, with actually hatred. But Beck was used to it… They weren’t that impressed, so they chuckled.

“Funny, I don’t recall a complain from your mom.” It was fine, as long as he didn’t hit them in the… Ow, the bad rib… Ok, that did hurt.

“Stay away from Poppy.” The random guy mumbled, making Beck see red from one second to another. “She’s mine.”

Who the fuck did he think he was?

Gathering strength, Beck managed to break the hold and land a punch right in the nose of the other one. Making him back down, blood falling from his face. The rage he now had made him let out a roar before lash out like a bull against Beck's torso, both of them falling to the floor. Again and again, his fist crashed on Beck’s face, but Beck turned things around, hitting the guy as hard as they could, until…

“What the fuck is WRONG WITH YOU?!” Beck felt a delicate yet strong hand reaching out for their shoulder, breaking the fight apart. Poppy was there, holding them tightly in a hug, looking at the guy on the floor completely infuriated.

“Poppy… I can explain… I saw The T's photo and I...” that guy said, looking distressed.

“I don’t fucking care, Burnett!” she roared. “you little piece of shit! I will personally make sure you end up getting dragged to the deepest, darkest, nauseating place this world has to offer to animals like you!”

Surprisingly, Beck felt bad for that pathetic guy. They haven’t seen Poppy so angry, so fierce in a very scary-the-shit-out kind of way, ever. Everyone around that were watching, started to go away as faster as they could, trying to avoid any kind of confrontation with her, leaving the three completely alone in a university corridor, which was no little thing. Beck took a deep breath… or at least, they tried, but…

They couldn’t breath deeply…

They couldn’t breath without pain.

“You-you can’t be serious… Are you… are you really dating that?”

“I’m dating whoever the fuck I want! And they have a fucking name! Call Beck a That again and I'll make you life a living hell!”

Beck didn’t even notice her defending them. The sharping pain was too much to talk.

“As for you...” It was Beck’s turn. “How you dare to ditch me like that at the club!”

“Wait…”

“I don’t care what you have to say! You should’ve growth a pair and talk to me long ago instead of just avoiding me!”

“Poppy… wait…” They try once again, wanted so desperately to regain air to their lungs without her yelling them.

“You know? I don’t even know what I saw in you! You’re just the same as many of my…!”

That’s when Beck started to bend, holding the rib as an instinct to protect them, to make it stop hurting, the pain was fully showing itself on their face.

“Oh my God…” Poppy exclaimed, her angry attitude switched quickly to a worry one. Swiftly, Poppy's hands traveled to Beck's shirt, uncovering his body. A big, yellow bruise on their skin was slowly becoming green… purple at some places. “Shit… I’m going to kill you, Carleton!”

Oh, the bad rib…

“What is going on here?”

The sound of a familiar voice showed up, Professor Ina Kingsley walked in, maybe alerted by students or something like it, Beck didn’t really want to dig in.

“This fucking asshole attacked Hughes as a savage meathead!”

“Is Beck ok?” Ina asked right away, being aware about how the pain in Beck was bigger that Carleton's, who got away with some bruises and face cuts. “Think you can walk?”

“I'm fine…” Beck groaned. “… I just… I need to sit down a moment…”

“Miss Min-Sinclair, do you mind taking Beck to the nursing? I handle Mr. Burnett.”

“Come on, Farmsville. Lean on me.”

“No, I can manage…” The look Poppy throw them was so deadly scary, that them were paralyzed for a second. “O-ok…” Beck did as she told them, not wanting to face that kinda mortal gaze ever again.

But as the both started walking away, Beck turned to look at the guy who was now being taken to the Principal office.

And the deep hatred drawn in him was enough to know it: That guy wouldn’t stop there.

“Sweet… this all over again.” Beck thought, feeling actually insecure for the first time in all the time they had there.

“Poppy… I don’t want to go to the nursing.” They said, desperately needing to feel secure.

“Are you dumb? Of course I’m taking you to the nursing! Did you see that bruise?”

“Poppy.” Beck stopped immediately, looking supplicant into those honey eyes. Scared. “Please… I'll go anywhere but there…”

The strawberry blonde thought about it carefully; a battle was taking place in her mind, while she was reading the message written on Beck’s eyes.

Her rigid posture suddenly softened, as if she couldn’t deny anything to them… Maybe Beck wasn’t the only one with a soft spot for the other.

“Fine. Let’s go to my room.”

----

#poppy x mc #queen b choices #choices #trans #ftm #malemc #poppy min sinclair #bea hughes #Beck Hughes #choices stories you play #choices poppy #choices queen b #choices queen b mc #mc x poppy #queen b

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 4 years

Note

Ranking Brotherhood of Evil Mutant members (including all interations) from your, most to least favorite and please expound why. I do like asking for opinions.

Hmmm....there have been several iterations of the Brotherhood, and I’m not very familiar with some of the later versions, so I’m just gonna go with the earlier versions that I know. Bear in mind, this is entirely subjective, and I like most of these characters, so a character being lower down doesn’t mean I hate them. Going from favorite to least favorite:

Pyro:

Anyone following this blog has probably noticed I love this dude. I’m not exactly subtle about it. I think he’s interesting and fun, as villains go. He’s snarky and cocky, and actually rather friendly when he’s not trying to kill you - very Affable Evil. He’s not necessarily a very good person - he’s self-interested, and can be rather vicious, but he’s a character that I thought could potentially come over to the good side. He seemed, at times, to get into the whole “Freedom Force” thing, and clearly enjoyed saving people alongside Longshot. He seems to bond a great deal with his team-mates - Mystique, Avalanche, even Stonewall (although he was a dick to him and Commando when they first joined). He even pals around with Blob, even though he also snarks at him sometimes. In AOA, Pyro was the only one helping and being protective of Phantazia. And now in Marauders he refers to them as his “friends,” and is perfectly happy traveling around with people that used to kick his ass, even appearing impressed with them (especially Storm), and being a surprisingly good team player. I don’t think Pyro would necessarily become a good guy for altruistic purposes, but I think he enjoys having “adventures” and getting attention and hanging out with his team-mates. I think if Pyro was on an X-Team, and was made to feel welcome, he’d probably be content to fight alongside them and follow the rules (which is basically what he’s doing right now with the Marauders), and maybe some of his team-mates’ virtues would rub off on him a bit. (There was apparently a version of X-Factor pitched to Marvel years ago that included Pyro on the team, and I’m disappointed that never happened, although I loved the X-Factor that we got.) And of course, there was also Pyro’s somewhat redemptive death, where he came to regret his past actions with the Brotherhood and wound up sacrificing his life to save Senator Kelly (fat lot of good it did, since Kelly got assassinated shortly after, but hey, he tried!)

Along with all of that, I am also really intrigued by Pyro’s back story of being a romance author and journalist. There’s the whole dichotomy of a guy who callously burns people to death and also writes gothic romance novels in his spare time. And honestly, it sounds like he’s lived a really interesting life before the Brotherhood - traveling all around South East Asia, working as a journalist covering Indonesia and Vietnam (I’d assume he speaks at least a little bit of Indonesian and Vietnamese to be able to live there and cover news). His motives for joining the Brotherhood have never been established, and I’m dying to know more about how he met Mystique, and why he decided to leave what was apparently a successful career and probably fairly comfortable life to go be an international terrorist. Was it money? A promise of adventure? Did he really believe in Magneto’s cause? Was he already getting into criminal activity before he joined the Brotherhood? There’s a lot of potential for development there, but unfortunately most writers (except Claremont) tend to completely ignore all of Pyro’s backstory. I’m still hoping that Duggan at least makes some reference to it, even just a throwaway comment about how Pyro used to write novels.

TL,DR: I like Pyro because he’s fun and clever, he makes friends with his team-mates, and he’s a writer.

Toad:

Toad is a really intriguing character, but mostly I like him because he’s actually got a lot of potential, but he’s had a shit life and can never seem to catch a break. In the earliest issues, he was just Magneto’s abused lackey, and appeared quite sniveling and pathetic, but later on it was revealed that he’s actually quite intelligent (and good with machines), he just appeared “stupid” due to all the abuse he suffered during childhood. Toad also has a lot of interesting powers - writers seem to give him a new one every other appearance. His stamina, agility, and super-strong legs could actually make him a pretty good fighter if he got proper training. Plus he’s got the prehensile tongue, pheromone secretion, acidic saliva, secretion of a paralytic resin, mind control over frogs - his Marvel bio is a long, long list of secondary powers. Toad could be quite formidable if he actually got his shit together, and there are AU’s (like House of M and Age of Apocalypse) where we see a much more stable, competent, intelligent Toad who is living up to his potential. But 616 Toad remains a joke, He’s either a low-level bad guy (they tried to level him up in the 90′s by making him the leader of the Brotherhood, but it didn’t last) or a pathetic sad-sack used for humor, or both. His attempt to “join” the X-Men led to him being the janitor and basically getting treated like shit (he literally had no bed?) then getting kicked out when he follow Husk to the Hellfire Academy, even though he did that largely out of concern for Husk, and actually helped her and Quentin escape.

Basically, Toad has been subjected to horrible abuse pretty much his entire life, he has a mutation that makes him appear “ugly”, and everyone treats him with, at best, pity, and at worst, hatred and disgust. I’ll admit, he’s had a few chances to better his life that have fallen through because of his own bad choices (and he’s done some horrible things, especially when he was leading the Brotherhood in the 90′s), but most of the time he’s just getting continuously kicked while he’s down. To a certain extent, it’s really a matter of comic writers not being willing to take Toad seriously - he’s considered a joke villain, and therefore gets written that way, because he’s there as an accessory in someone else’s story. At least the Toad/Husk storyline seemed to focus some on Toad himself as a character, even if it ended badly for him. Sometimes, I kinda think Toad is written as evil or pathetic so that writers can justify other characters being shitty towards him. Like, Magneto’s early treatment of Toad was absolutely, inexcusably horrible. Magneto treated everyone in the Brotherhood badly, including his own children, but it seemed like Toad caught the worst of it. Pietro and Wanda were also disgusted by Toad, although they had good reason, since his affection towards Wanda was pretty creepy. Later on, Magneto was revamped into more of a noble, morally grey character, and his past abuse of Toad was mostly forgotten. I don’t think the writers are necessarily doing this on purpose, but it kind feels like Toad remaining a pathetic bad guy was partially a way to excuse Magneto’s poor treatment of him, since Magneto was being reinvented as a more likable character. And not just Magneto, but just about everyone who finds Toad disgusting or cracks jokes about how gross he is – it’s okay, Toad is awful so it’s totally fine to have the physically attractive good guys mock him and treat him like garbage. (Hell, the artists can’t even decide what Toad’s physical appearance should be. Is he skinny? Fat? Does he have green skin? Is his nose ridiculously long or closer to normal? Who knows what we’ll get in each issue. And God forbid he be drawn without his tongue lolling out of his mouth.)

Also, I think that a lot of Toad’s worst personality flaws are at least partially due to the abuse he suffered. To be clear, I’m not justifying the things that Toad has done. He set up death traps for people who wronged him, murdered Sauron’s girlfriend, and stalked and attacked Wanda multiple times. That’s pretty shitty of him! But I also think the abuse had a huge effect on Toad and how he interacts with people. Like, his tendency to obsessively latch onto people, and act like a sniveling lackey – the dude has had pretty much no love his entire life, and he’s always been treated like garbage. Of course he has no self-esteem, of course he’ll fawn over anyone that shows him affection. He’s been raised to believe that he is garbage. Even his tendency to gloat over others being punished, and his whole “I’ll tell Magneto, and you’ll get in trouble!” thing is an understandable survival mechanism – other people getting in trouble means that he’s not the target, for once. Obviously I can’t condone Toad trying to murder people that wronged him, but his anger and resentment is also understandable after the poor treatment he’s suffered. In fact, I think it’s actually healthier for him to be angry than to think that he deserves it. And a lot of the shitty things he did as Brotherhood leader also felt like him desperately wanting to be taken seriously, to be respected – also not a bad thing to want, even if his actions were terrible. Basically, Toad has a lot of personality flaws, and he’s also had a lot of experiences that created or exacerbated those personality flaws. The guy needs serious, long-term therapy, and I think he could become a better (or at least more competent) person if he got the help that he so obviously needs.

TL, DR: Basically, Toad deserves better.

Avalanche:

I have to admit, a lot of my love for Avalanche is all about his relationship with Pyro, be it friendship or something more. (It’s something more in my headcanons, I will forever ship them.) But he’s also a character that we don’t know much about, in part because he tends to talk a lot less than a certain chatty Australian. He seems, more than anything, to be a practical-minded punch-clock villain, who is mostly in it for the money. He doesn’t seem to enjoy putting on a show and reveling in his powers like Pyro, and he doesn’t seem to have the same mean streak that can be seen in Blob (and Pyro, to be fair). I’m sure there are probably instances of Avalanche being dickish and cruel, but in a lot of his appearances that I’ve read, he seems very practical. Do the job, get paid. He also seems fairly content to be a follower or a lackey – happy to take orders from Mystique, or even follow Pyro’s lead when Mystique isn’t around. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own ideas or opinions, but he doesn’t particularly feel the need to be a leader. Like Pyro, we also don’t know much about his past before the Brotherhood, except that he was married at some point. Where’s his wife now? Why didn’t it work out? Was it because of him being a mutant, or was it his activities with the Brotherhood that drove them apart? Does he still love her? Why did he join the Brotherhood in the first place?

Avalanche also seems to care somewhat about his team-mates, although he’s not as openly friendly as Pyro. During Freedom Force’s disastrous last mission, he made the difficult call to abandon Pyro and Blob to save Commando, something that he was clearly broken up about. And of course, he was willing to go on a mission in the Savage Land with Pyro to get a Legacy Virus cure (that unfortunately didn’t actual exist). Avalanche is selective about who he cares about, but he still shows that he cares through his actions. I don’t want to make this all about Pyro, but I really love their relationship. The stoic, quiet guy/chatty energetic guy dynamic is great. They just love being bros and committing crimes together, and they are quick to work together and back each other up, even in their earliest appearances. I would totally read a min-series focusing on the early days of Mystique’s brotherhood, especially if it gave us some good Avalanche, Pyro and Blob development, and didn’t just center around Rogue and Mystique (both fantastic characters, but they’ve both got a lot of attention directed at them already.)

Also, Avalanche likes to garden, which is nice. And at one point he just got fed-up with everything and tried to retire and become a bartender, which is very relatable. Unfortunately Red Skull murdered him after that. Sorry, Avalanche. I hope you are resurrected on Krakoa, living your best life.

Blob:

Another character who is often not taken seriously. Blob is mean-spirited, crass, and often self-interested, much like the rest of the Brotherhood members. He also was extremely close to Unus, and clearly devastated when Unus’s powers went out of control and killed him. Blob is one of those characters where I think his physical appearance has led to him being designated as a bad guy by the writers – he’s big and gross, so, just like Toad, he’ll be portrayed as a bad person in order to justify the good guys being terrible to him. (Yes, I know there are “ugly” good guys, but let’s face it, they are rare. Most of the good guys look like models.) Blob also, like Toad, gets a lot of crap for his physical appearance, something that is literally part of his mutation. I think some of Blob’s nastiness is definitely a defense mechanism, lashing out at others because he is used to being attacked. It also seems like Blob is really lacking in close friendships, like what Mystique and Destiny or Pyro and Avalanche have (“friendship”). He was really the odd man out in Mystique’s brotherhood. He’s willing to pal around with various Brotherhood members, including Avalanche and Pyro when they’re not picking fights with each other, but he doesn’t seem to have a best buddy after Unus’s death. I kind of admire Blob’s toughness. It would be easy for him to completely lose his self-esteem, like Toad, but he stands up for himself and never grovels to others. He is frequently insulted for his mutation, but he also seems comfortable in his own skin, which is good. He shouldn’t have to feel bad about his own body.

There was an AU story that showed a softer, more thoughtful Blob who wound up in a relationship with Psylocke, so we know he’s capable of showing a better side of himself. To some extent, I like Blob’s crass, take-no-shit personatliy, but I’d also like to see writers give him more depth. I’d especially like to see him reunite with Unus on Krakoa, and the two of them hanging out enjoying each other’s company. I’m also enjoying the cameos we get of bartender Blob on Krakoa, I hope he is also living his best life.

Phantazia:

Honestly, I mostly just want to know more about her. All we really know is that she has a PhD (in some kind of scientific field, I think….she is reading a book on astrophysics in one comic), and she was willing to join Toad’s Brotherhood (and she was also the only Brotherhood member that received an invitation from Exodus to Asteroid M). Why? What was her life before that? Who knows? Most of the time, she seems rather cold, and a bit distant from her team-mates (but I can’t entirely blame her, the Brotherhood is a rough crowd. It’s hard to be the new team-mate, and probably especially hard to be the only woman.) She did seem concerned about Pyro when he was suffering from the Legacy Virus, but she kind of dropped out of sight when the Brotherhood disbanded. She seems like she was mostly in it for personal gain, especially since Toad’s Brotherhood was more about petty crime than mutant rights. Apparently she was deeply affected by Wanda’s reality alterations, which took a toll on her mental health, and was last seen in a SHIELD holding cell. I hope she pops up again on Krakoa.

Rogue:

The only reason Rogue is so low on the list is that I sometimes forget she was ever a Brotherhood member, and because I like to focus more on lesser known characters. But I really like Rogue! She’s tough but sweet, and an incredible badass. Leaving the Brotherhood for the X-Men meant walking away from her team and foster-mother(s), but she still did it, and became one of the X-Men’s most dependable and valued members. I love Rogue’s past, her relationship with Mystique, her relationship with Gambit. I love how she doesn’t take shit, but she also doesn’t go around acting like a jerk, like some of the “tough” characters. (Wolverine, basically.) I like the complexity of her struggles with her powers, and her knowing that her strongest abilities, like strength and flight, were basically “stolen” from someone else. I feel like I should say more, but Rogue is very popular and has had loads written about her already. Rogue is cool, and she deserves the best!

Mystique:

A truly fascinating character. She’s also lower on the list because she is fairly well-known and popular, and also because she can absolutely be a manipulative piece of shit, willing to throw everyone except Destiny under the bus. Yet, at the same time, we see her appear to genuinely care about people, like Rogue, Nightcrawler (after the unfortunate “toss baby off a cliff” incident), Destiny, even Pyro occasionally (she has a nice moment with him on Muir Island, and also calls him “friend” in X-Factor). She’s a character who can never be entirely trusted, which is a large part of what makes her interesting. I think she truly does care about a few, select people. Hell, there’s an early issue in which Mystique fights a bunch of robots programmed to look and act like the X-Men (courtesy of Arcade), and she completely breaks down after having to “kill” the Rogue robot, then hesitates to attack the Nightcrawler bot. I think Mystique can also be extremely callous, cold and manipulative, but I don’t think she is completely evil, just very self-interested, like a lot of villains. Also, she’s probably seen and experienced a lot of shit over her long life that contributed to that callousness (I figure if I’m gonna cut Toad and Blob some slack, I should do the same for Mystique.) I do wish she would stop committing rape by deception in stories (meaning sleeping with someone while disguised as someone else). It’s something that gets glossed over, even though fandom generally despises rapist male villains (and rightfully so), but Mystique pretending to be Blink and sleeping with Mimic is barely a story blip.

Mystique is also interesting just because she’s such a badass. She’s cunning, a good leader, a good strategist, excellent spy, good at hand-to-hand combat (she only loses to Arcade’s X-Men robots because she hesitates). She is damn formidable! She’s also lived a varied and interesting life. There’s a reason she’s gotten so much exposure in comics. I can also understand her being short-tempered while leading the Brotherhood, as she has to deal with the three stooges of Pyro, Avalanche and Blob. Then things get even more complicated during the Freedom Force days. Mystique has a lot of shit to deal with keeping those idiots in line. Her relationship with Destiny is probably my favorite thing about Mystique, they are beautiful wives, and I hope she gets Destiny resurrected so the two of them can live happily together on Krakoa. (Unlikely.)

Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch:

I don’t have much to say about these two, even though I like them. I’m starting to run out of steam in terms of character analysis, and I tend to think of them more as Avengers than Brotherhood members. They both deserve better. Also, they are mutants and Magneto is their dad. Retcon? What retcon?

Destiny:

I don’t have much to say about Destiny because she is very mysterious – always working according to some plan that only she knows. So it’s hard to really know her as a character. She seems like a very intelligent and calm woman. She’s always chilling while the Brotherhood guys are freaking out or picking fights with each other. She also faced her own death bravely and willingly. She seems to have a good sense of humor. One of my favorite stories is Mystique disposing of Destiny’s ashes after her death. She is throwing them off a boat at a specific time and place, according to Destiny’s instructions – and the wind blows them back into her face. Obviously Destiny planned it as a last prank, and I have to like a character who sets that up. Also, one time she let a rock wall collapse on Avalanche and Spiral because she knew they wouldn’t be seriously hurt, and she hated Spiral and wanted to enjoy her humiliation. That’s some impressive pettiness. Destiny is cool, and I hope she comes back.

Sauron:

I don’t really care about him at all.

Mastermind:

Seems like a real creep, especially with his manipulation of Jean Grey/Phoenix in the Dark Phoenix saga. At least he apologized to her at his death. Also, he’s got three daughters, the dude gets around. Regan, Martinique, and Pixie (WTF?! I just read that in his bio.) I am really confused by there being two Mastermind daughters with the same powers, but apparently it was actually a mix-up between two writers. Oops!

That’s all. I know there have been later Brotherhood iterations with other members, including one or both Lady Masterminds, but that was during a time when I wasn’t reading much X-Men, so I’m not familiar with most of those characters. I might have more to say if I eventually read some of the later Brotherhood stories.

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intersex-ionality · 5 years

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I’m sorry for asking but I cannot seem to find any answers. I see a lot of stray anti posts complaining about hazbin hotel, and I can’t for the life of me understand them because I haven’t seen the show. I read a summary of the plot, but perhaps you could explain better. What is it and why do so many hate it (and why have I seen no fewer than 4 unique posts claiming it’s “what happens when you let billdip shippers make things”?)

Now, I was never a billdip shipper, but I suppose I can see the, like, similarity in vibes between Alastor (a demonic radio host with untold evil powers and who speaks in a 1930s radio jockey voice), and Bill.

And since antishippers hate Bill and they also hate Vivienne Medrano, the attempt to compare “billdip” to an entire original cartoon property is, I guess, a logical connection for them.

But let me be clear: there’s absolutely fuck or all that can be said to parallel the popular interpretation of billdip, in no small part because there no Dipper character, and in much larger part because of Alastor extremely rejects all romantic, sexual and even platonic advances.

Antishippers hate Hazbin Hotel because they hate the woman who came up with and spearheaded the project. They loathe Vivienne Medrano for being a successful independent artist capitalizing on the desperate need in the general viewing public for the bright colors, musical numbers, and zany antics that only animation can provide, but without the stifling restrictions of being targetted towards children. Most “adult” animation is focused on being drab or viscerally disgusting as a form of schadenfreude humour. And while children’s animation certainly fills that bright and zany niche, because it is obligated to adhere to the morality of various broadcasters, it’s often very suffocated in what it can or cannot do or say.

The aesthetic that HH/HB has created is clearly a callback to two major styles of animation: the adult-aimed slapstick of early Warner Brothers, and the long-and-lanky exaggerated flailing limbs that were popular as a design choice in low budgets (TV, off-brand film) and fandom animation in the late 2000s.

Since this style of animation is also associated heavily with fandom’s last big burst of creative and sexual freedom before the whole “no boundaries, no barriers, the search algorithms can and will put porn on every child’s dashboard” disasters of 2013-2015, some people are naturally off-put by it, because it reminds them of the time a bunch of corporate overlords decided that they should destroy their own platforms. For whatever reason (it’s the capitalism, probably), people blame individual artists for this trash fire rather than the platform holders that purposefully destroyed organization and boundaries between groups in a desperate bid for ad revenue.

Antishippers have a deep-seated reflex reaction towards hating that art style. You can see it in the hatred of HH/HB, but also in the hatred of things like, “cringey once-ler fans” and of “people who draw all the homestuck like twinks,” and "people who draw Pearl like a man” and all kinds of other places.

Additionally, Vivienne Medrano was at the centre of a few other antishipper fiascos, because her previous projects involved what they call a “pedophilic student-teacher relationship between a child and an adult.” Of course, in truth, the relationship in question is between an 18 year old student and her 19 year old student-tutor, but when have anti-shippers let facts get in their way.

Likewise, she made a living for a while taking commissions for (SFW) furry art work, and has always had a very positive relationship with the furry community (despite not being a furry herself). People upset by her success as an artist are also quick to say that she has sex with animals, “like all furries do,” because as we all know, calling queer artists sexual cirminals is Good Praxis that has Never Caused Harm /sarcasm.

In effect, Vivienne Medrano is a perfect storm of things anti-shippers hate: successful queer creators who refuse to assimilate to heteronormativity; successful creators of color who refuse to assimilate to white respectability; unrepentantly proud of her art; unafraid to engage with sexual themes in a fun rather than puritanical and hateful way; popular in the late 2000s/early 2010s; an ascended fan who was able to turn her fandom credentials into a successful professional project.

Their hatred for all of these facts about her are presented in a way that lets them feel good about lashing out at someone they dislike/are envious of. Namely, by saying that her work is an act of sexual, racial, or gendered violence, rather than, you know, fictional and fun.

HH/HB is not somehow a perfect piece of art. I have made my own discomfort with facets of it very clear. And there are flaws other than my wariness of rehabilitation themes.

Some of the sound design is overwhelming, with a few scenes bordering Johnny Test levels of excessive sound effects; in some cases the editing has clipped too much quiet-space between the presentation of a joke and its punchline; those traits combined with the lack of closed captioning can make the show very hard to process for someone like me who has difficulty with speech.

The immense budgetary constraints of the animation can sometimes be seen in framerate dips or in peculiar background details. Zoomed out shots of the cast as an ensemble are particularly identifiable as places where what would have been filler art in a higher budget production were ultimately left in because there wasn’t time or money to replace them.

The show is extremely upfront about sexuality and especially queer and professional sexuality, which can easily be off-putting to people. Conservative Fox News hosts’ extreme homophobia and violence are put on full display--for the purpose of mocking them for being enormous sacks of shit, but on display nonetheless--which can likewise be uncomfortable.

At one point you see the clearly exposed brain of a cartoon egg, which I won’t lie, makes me gag every time it happens, no matter how stylized and brief the shot. (Why! Does the egg! Have a brain inside it!!!)

But, unironically, HH/HB is the best series of adult animation I have seen in probably a decade or more. Maybe in my entire life. Prior to this, the only option for adult animation that isn’t rooted in sadism or grey-beige palettes was anime, and the design direction and acting of anime are ultimately very different than that of western slapstick.

Obviously, not every anti-shipper is so outraged because they envy the success of an artist other than themselves. But a great many are fuelled by envy, either that they aren’t the success story, or that someone they perceive as The Enemy is a success story.

This is far from the first time that anti-shippers have proudly taken the same side as anti-queer bigots and as open and avowed racists, who also hate the show (for being gay, for featuring an interracial relationship, etc). It won’t be the last. But, for all that their actions are often indistinguishable from the queerphobes and the white supremacists, their motivations are at least meaningfully distinct.

#Hazbin Hotel #I suppose I'm the HHHB defense squad now #what a weird life #Anonymous

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #325

tired of seeing me in the survey tag yet? lmao me too

Would you date someone who’s shorter than you? I have absolutely never understood why there would be any correlation between someone's height and whether or not you would date the person because of it. What, do you think the person has any control over that? So basically, yes, I would, without a second thought. Have you ever fallen in love on the Internet? "Fallen in love," no. I had to meet Sara first to see how we meshed in the same environment. Have you ever had a crush on your best friend’s sweetie? Yes, hence the Joel mess. Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend? No. Good luck getting me to date someone like that. Can guys be sluts? Who the fuck cares so long as the person is safe and open with their partner. Ever had a crush on your best girlfriend? Twice now, haha. Would you ever kiss someone who’s taken? No, I'm not that kind of person. Do you mind being the third wheel? I don't care, really, so long as my friend doesn't totally ignore me. I very much enjoy seeing people in love. Has a kiss ever made you weak in the knees? Yes. Have you ever been in a love triangle? No, and I absolutely would not if I was aware. You pick me or you leave me alone. Do you feel comfortable buying condoms? I've never had to, but I'd probably feel a hint of awkwardness. Have you ever run into your ex with his/her new partner? No, and the only case where that would be a problem would be with Jason. I know in my heart I would feel at least some hatred towards her. Have you ever felt guilty after doing something sexual? Yep, when I was first actually getting truly sexual and felt like I was betraying my "abstinence." Would you stay friends with your sweetie’s friends if you broke up? I'm still friends with Jacob, mine and Jason's former roommate and his then-close friend. So yeah. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? I hope more than words can explicate that I have a stable job that I love, my driver's license, and my own place with a long-term partner, since I think living alone would be very detrimental to me. I also hope I have much better control over my social anxiety. Oh, and can I PLEASE be fit again? What was the last thing you bought for less than a dollar? No idea. Who was the last person in your bed? My niece Aria was sitting on it with me. I miss Misty's kids. Do you have a nice phone? Not particularly, but it does the job. Is Marilyn Manson creepy or cool? I find him creepy in a cool way, haha. Well, at least aesthetically. With his recent sexual assault (or abuse? idr) allegations however, I don't know how I feel about him because I don't know the facts. I really should actually read up about it. Regardless, I love his music; he's one of my favorite musical artists. Do you like talking to strangers? Depends on my mood and the person. Do you have OCD? Yes. Are you clumsy or graceful? I'm clumsy as all getout. Have you ever ran into a door because you didn’t know it was closed? Haha, no. Have you ever woke up and didn’t know where you were? After my cyst removal surgery, I was confused for a moment or so. Do you own a Wii? Yep. Do you like to talk about yourself? Depends on with whom, the subject, and my mood. Has anyone ever called you conceited? No; I'm very much on the other end of the spectrum. Tattoos or piercings? I love both, but tats win. Have you ever had ants ruin your picnic? I’ve never had a picnic. At least that I remember. What’s the last gross movie/show/video you saw? Recently, I watched The Dark Den dissect his recently-deceased tarantula to figure out why she died. It was serious impaction, and it was disgusting. Would you rather live in a huuuge house or a little cozy one? A lil cozy one! Not TOO small, though. I'd feel claustrophobic. Have you ever blow dried something other then your hair? Maybe? What is your favorite piece of equipment at gyms? Treadmills. Do you have a tutor for anything? No. Does your sibling(s) have braces? My older sister did for a little while. Did you tell your last girlfriend/boyfriend that you love them? Yes. What was the last thing your parents got mad at you for? Apparently I somehow forgot to wipe crumbs off the kitchen counter. Have you ever had a bathing suit fall off of you while swimming? Not a suit, no, but when I wore bikinis and I jumped into the pool, it's happened before where my top would go up. I'd obviously fix it super quick. Do your pets have favorites? I'm absolutely Roman's favorite, but he loves Mom, too. I'm the only one who interacts with Venus. What’s the longest you’ve ever liked someone without telling them? A very long time. I had a big crush on Girt my freshman year, and some time after Jason, my crush for him came back, but he didn't ask me out until years later. Turns out we'd been friends just too long and the relationship felt too weird for me, so I broke up with him after I think... four months or so? We're still great friends. That's my bro. Did you prank anyone on April Fool’s Day? I never do anymore. I don't like pranks. What’s the sweetest thing a gf/bf can do to get you to forgive them? Changed behavior. Do you dislike when surveys ask to describe your underwear? Well, I'm almost always in my pajamas, sooo I generally don't even have any at that moment. Did you check to see how much fat/calories was in the last thing you ate? No. If the last person you kissed gave you roses, what would you do? Blush and thank her. Anything happened lately that you never expected to? "Never?" No. Are you the person you thought you’d be when you were younger? I'm a massive disappointment and embarrassment to that little girl. Are you a confrontational person, or the peacekeeper? I am absolutely a peacekeeper. I avoid confrontation like the plague. The last time you did something with BOTH of your parents was? They've been divorced since I was I think 17 and I am now 25, so... Do you like pumpkin pie? Absolutely not. Do you believe in any conspiracies? I am 100% sold on that the government had some involvement in 9/11. Look into the evidence - there is an overwhelming amount. There are others that I consider as possible, but no others do I absolutely believe. I'm around 50/50 on the simulation theory. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yeah, Nicole. Have you ever changed yourself to impress someone? Who? Nah. Who was the last person you gave up on? Why did you give up on them? Colleen. We simply butted heads way too much, and she just had this volatile meanness towards others I couldn't watch anymore. What was the last thing you printed? Is there even ink in your printer? Probably a paper for when I was in school. I don't know if our printer does. Have you ever gotten your nails done? Or do you get them done regularly? Yeah, with Colleen and then another time with my sisters. It was really just to hang with them, though. It's not something I'm interested in. Have you been outside yet today? What were you doing? Nope. When was the last time you got a new bed? Is your bed comfy? Not since I was an older teen did I get Mom's bed, but it wasn't new. This was actually her parents' bed, too. Well I mean, the mattress obviously isn't that old, but the bed itself is pretty ancient. It's comfy enough. Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? Who were you with? Yes: on the dead-end road that led to our old house. I was with Mom obviously and probably my sister, since I think I did it on the way home from school. Do any of your friends drink excess amounts of alcohol? Do you? Not to my knowledge. I definitely don't. Have you ever been in handcuffs? Why, exactly? Yes, because it's mandatory when being transported to a mental hospital. What’s your favorite thing to do when drunk? Would you do this sober? Never been drunk before. When was the last time you bled? What happened? Well it's my time of the month, so. Are you a fan of dogs? Do you have any pets? I love dogs, but don't currently have one as a pet. Mom's looking intently. How often do you bathe? I'm going to be completely transparent and say not as much as I should. Doing my hair is fine, but moving all around, bending and propping my legs up exhausts my legs so much that I avoid showers as long as I can take it or until I have to go somewhere. I want strength back in my body. So. Badly. Do you have any tattoos? What, where and why? I have six that I'm not all explaining, but locations: right upper arm, right inner wrist, left inner forearm, left upper arm, right collarbone, left breast. What do you wear to bed at home? Pajama pants and a tank top. What do you wear to bed when you're somewhere else? Pj pants, tank top, and usually a bra, depending on where I'm at and with who. Do you have any phobias? What? Why do you think you have this/them? I have a lot, but I'll discuss my strangest/strongest: pregnancy, maggots, parasites, and whale sharks. Pregnancy would be because a fetus is technically parasitic, and, to cover that topic, I'm just generally terrified of anything living in MY body. I also find it absolutely disgusting to see a baby move from the outside. I will actually scream if I see this, and that is not an exaggeration. I'm afraid of maggots (larva in general, really) because I think they're just disgusting, and I once brought something in from outside and put it in my dresser (idr why), and one day I opened it and reached in for something just to find lots of little larva squirming around. That's when it started. Now, whale sharks: it's literally because of World of Warcraft, hahaha. There's an underwater zone in the game where they roam as boss enemies, and their mouths look so weird and are actually a bit toothy. Irl, they just have mouths that are just way too big for my comfort. I know they're entirely harmless, but still. If you could ask God (to atheists - IF there was one) one question, what? "Why." Why so much evil, pain, and unfairness. Briefly describe your family. Kinda broken, but still loving and try to stay close. Big "ohana" mood: everyone's loyalty is endless. Where do you stand on the death penalty? For it in extreme cases. Where do you stand on wearing fur? Disgusting and horribly morbid unless for survival purposes in cold climates. Could you kill somebody? In self-defense, yes. What are your political beliefs (anarchy, communism, democracy etc.)? I just say I'm Independent. My beliefs stretch over so many titles; plus, I'm not very educated on all types and what they entail. What, if anything, WOULD you sacrifice your life for? To save those I love most. How would your ideal partner look? *shoves picture of Mark Fischbach in ur face* Would you ever have an affair? Nope. I'm telling you: pick me or leave me be. I'm not a side-chick. Would you ever have a one night stand? Also no. What one thing would you change in this world (free Tibet, abolish Sweden)? Honestly... probably abolish all militaries. I do not in the least support war, and it's just... sad to know countries stand ready to kill the moment they "need" to. Distrust seems to make the world go 'round. Sure, a country may try to rebuild them in secrecy, but that's a preeeetty big thing to succeed in keeping under wraps. "But what if a terrorist or something rises?" I'm quite sure we could handle that without an full-on army. Maybe I'm not well-informed on this topic, but I've just never supported military presence. I WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR AS DAY, I have endless respect for veterans and aspiring soldiers, because I DO understand the mentality of wanting to protect your home, but yeah. I just wish it wasn't a thing. Would you ever choose a career or job where your life was at risk? Nope. Do you have any famous relatives? Ancestors, yes, and I have a distant cousin who wrote a fantastic book, if that counts. Are you a loyal member of any organizations? No. Desired weight: At MOST 140. :/ I'd like to be closer to 120, but I'll take 140. What are your opinions on marijuana legalization? Legalize it, but treat it similarly to alcohol, like prohibiting driving high, obviously. What do you think about tipping at restaurants? Tip a minimum, and THEN increase according to service quality. Are you addicted to anything? Soda. Would you ever get back together with any of your exes? Yes. Never mind what gender you ARE, what gender do you WANT to be? I'm a female and content with that. Do you ever feel ashamed revealing your age? Yes, considering how behind I am in just being an adult. What does your parents call you? Generally just "Britt." Mom occasionally still calls me "Twinkie." ;-; Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? Wow, no. Do you ever watch The Simpsons? No. What’s the last thing to make you scream? Truly scream, a mix of depression and anger. I screamed into my pillow. Do you play games with boys/girls, like ‘hard to get’? I'm an adult. I'm a tease in some romantic situations, but "hard to get" is definitely the wrong term.

#survey #surveys #questions

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shiftingpath · 4 years

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To My Exalted Secret Santa

A Solar, a Lunar, and a Dragon-Blood behind the cut:

1) Ledaal Manus, the Hand of Towersong, Twilight Caste Solar

Manus is a beautiful, delicate-looking young man, impossibly young for his position controlling the Clockwork Empire, a Solar kingdom stretching across the North. Manus is dedicated to being whatever his Circle needs; scholar, spy, tactician, diplomat, prophet, but his real skill is in management, changing the flow of entire economies with the flick of his brush. The enemies of Towersong are beginning to consider Manus the most dangerous of his Circle for his subtlety, adaptability, and ruthlessness.

Manus is of average height, slim and pretty. His skin is pale and his hair white, kept in a short ponytail or braid just a bit longer than his shoulders. He wears oval-shaped spectacles, and his remaining natural eye is ice blue. The other one is glass set with aquamarine in the shape of a broken hourglass. Occasionally when trying to appear intentionally intimidating he'll wear an eyepatch, but he is very vain about his appearance and prefers to come off flawlessly pretty.

His upbringing as a Dynast is no longer very evident in his fashion sense, which leans more towards the (Viking) style of nearby Karn, but he does still like the high collars. Manus tries never to show more skin than his face whenever possible. He loves purple and charcoal, and wears gold to match his Queen. In addition to his northern adventurer look, he loves jewellery and always wears a gold circlet on his brow and a gear ring nailed through his finger, as well as plenty of other necklaces and rings that he changes out as the mood suits. Though they're usually hidden, he also has a brand around his bicep of a chain sealed with a crown, and a bioluminescent tattoo around one wrist that looks like a glowing blue string of beads.

His beloved sword Silver Riddle is a long thin moonsilver daiklave, with tiny starmetal strands etched up the blade. He used to wear his hair in a signature long white-blue braid to his knees, but when Ligier cut it off Manus instead fixed it to his sword like a long tassel. His other common artifacts are a blue jade chain shirt and one of a pair of matched assassin's blades, his showing a brilliant orichalcum sun in a blue jade sky. He also wears a black jade badge with the mons of House Ledaal.

Manus is a Solar Circle sorcerer, absolutely chock full of weird magic, a hint of necromancy, and just a whole load of bizarre clock-themed eerieness. He is a prophet who can pull the stars from the sky, a sorcerer who can stop time and walk unseen through it, a warden of Towersong's memory able to strip entire experiences from the minds of the public if he deems it too secret or too horrific, an arcane link to Autochthon himself. If you make it clock-themed it is probably appropriate.

Manus is distant, cool, and very polite. In combat he is a noble defender, pleased to act as assistant to his Dawn Caste best friend. In diplomacy he is ambitious and shrewd, and will make allies of nearly anyone with his willingness to bargain and deal. In home life he is deeply respectful of his father and spouse, still trying to be the perfect Realm son and husband. The world perceives him as a spider sitting behind his desk, controlling the North, and in his dreams, he walks strange roads lit in blue-green, patrolling alone among the frozen, sleeping citizens of his home.

References 1 2 3

2) The Ninth Hand, No Moon Octopus Lunar Ninth Hand is a vengeful sorcerer, eager to cut down the Realm and its monsters wherever they encounter it. They are a consummate shapeshifter, discarding forms with no sentimentality and rarely considering any shape "their own", having long since happily forgotten the details of the shape they were born to. However, over time they have refined their preferences, and when they appear "as themself" to another, the forms they invent for it will usually have some overlapping common traits.

In a "true" form, they usually appear very tall and slim, with long fingers. Their appearance of androgyny varies widely, though they often appear with a flat chest. Their skin is a deep black with underlying blue tones, covered with patterns of multicoloured dots rippling across their flesh at random, their subconscious octopus nature trying to camouflage them into the background. Their moonsilver tattoos appear like transluscent silver scarves, caught with stars, weaving in twirls and loops across their face and down their limbs. Several large hearthstones are set into their skin. In their forehead, an opal. Between their collarbones, a cloudy grey gem with a black swirl deep inside. On one arm, just below the shoulder, is a translucent grey stone and on the other, a translucent black one. The most important of these turns all water nearby them an inky black, and another causes tendrils of dark water to form out of their anima, able to pickpocket or open doors for them and so on.

They usually appear with a shaved or hairless head, though if they appear with hair, it's natural, strong and curly, styled into shaved-side mohawks of locs or beaded braids pulled back. Their eyes are usually either a eerie warm silver or a brown so dark as to appear black. When wanting to appear extra spooky they'll make their sclera black as well. They can shift their clothes as effortlessly as their body, so their disguises are easy and appropriate. When appearing as themself, they wear coils of long violet sashes swooped loosely around their chest and arms, and soft loose pants easy to move in. They wear a black cuff around each wrist, and a gold bracelet around one wrist and one ankle. They never wear shoes.

Their beastman form makes them even taller, with unusually long arms and fingers. They have four or six arms, and their Tell becomes much more pronounced, constant camouflaging patterns emerging and disappearing. They like to pose their extra arms in artistic, occult fashions while using one set as the “working pair”.

Ninth Hand carries one artifact, the Grasping Claw of the Nemesis, a sorcerer's staff appearing like a single long thin band of moonsilver twisted like a ribbon. It's topped with a sharp obsidian claw with three prongs, which when used to clutch at an arcane link to a person, makes it easier to cast spells of darkness and hatred upon them. Hand likes to use it primarily on other sorcerers, whom they regard with a jealous rage.

Ninth Hand is cool and distant by nature, and speaks in an oblique, formal way. They are a cunning planner, cautious and suspicious, sitting back and observing long before taking action. They have nothing but disdain and disgust for the rich and idle, especially Dynasts. However, they are relatively warm and protective of the working class, slaves and sex workers, and servants of all stripes, having come from a similar background and never forgetting the exhaustion and indignity of it. They are also fond of younger Lunars and are happy to lend them aid and advice in their personal goals, with no need for favours or payment. They are often found still as a statue, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a wide bowl on their lap full of burning herbs, witnessing visions of the future as they inhale the smoke.

Ninth Hand's favourite spells are Death of Obsidian Butterflies, Impenetrable Veil of Night, and Insidious Tendrils of Hate. Their anima appears like silver tentacles shifting in and out of view as if a cloud passed in front of them. Twisting tendrils are revealed, grasping exotic and glimmering gems sparkling with power.

References 1 2 3

3) Ledaal Zyden, Fire Aspected Dragon-Blood Some of you may remember Zyden. This is a new Zyden! We relaunched his campaign from the ground up!

Zyden is a quietly troubled young man fresh out of the House of Bells, a gruelling experience that has left him bitter and disillusioned. His natural hunger to help and support others was nearly extinguished, and he still has long periods feeling like a guttering flame. He is friendly and open with nearly everyone, and his feeling like he should hear them out has led to him befriending mortal children, Lintha reavers, and even Anathema. At school he specialized in solo spear fighting, and his skill at it has let him outfight even Dragon-Bloods years older than him. He loves fighting, and knowing he's doing the right thing defending villages of mortals or ostracized outcastes gives him a heart and intensity he lacks in defending himself. His time travelling in the West has led to him picking up all sorts of skills unbecoming for a Dynastic Dragon-Blood; cooking, sailing, playing the tin whistle. He takes immense joy in them and truly loves cooking for others.

He has already been contacted by three Sidereals, curious to observe and guide him, for they believe that against all expectation and likelihood, he may be the inheritor of a grand and important destiny that would set him head and shoulders above his Dragon-Blooded kin in achievements. But destiny is a fickle thing, and they have not told him what it might involve. Zyden's fate has been cast in the air, and even Heaven doesn't yet know where it will land.

Zyden is quite tall, with pale skin that sunburns easily. His eyes are icy blue and his hair is white, flickering like flames. He is always warm to the touch, and water evaporates off him quickly. His "good clothes", as he thinks of them, are a grey silk shirt with a high collar, a pair of soft trousers similar to martial training gear, and a pair of boots with upturned toes. He has a lot of trouble forcing himself to do up his collar the entire way, and it's often open a button or two. The clothes he prefers to wear sailing alongside Coral crews are a loose white shirt and grey-blue trousers, going barefoot whenever possible. Around his waist he wears a blue and yellow sash he was given from a local in the Neck, and around his neck he wears a string with a large shark tooth. When he is most content, he'll sometimes tuck a tropical flower in his hair, which are almost always, coincidentally, blue.

He currently wields two artifacts- Saltspray Exorcist, a black jade guan dao famous in his family for its specialty against ghosts and the undead, and the Uniform of the Vigilant Watchman, a blue jade reinforced buff jacket. Exorcist is a tall spear with a long slashing head of black jade, a white silk tassel dangling from it. The haft is decorated with gold studs, with a gold cap on the end. His buff jacket is dark blue, with smooth plates of bright blue jade. It has a wide collar and is decorated with gold embroidery of a flaming sun emerging from dragon-scale clouds.

His anima is a brilliant-burning four-pointed star of white fire with a blue core.

References 1 2 3 4

#exalted #exalted secret santa

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lumi-klovstad-games · 5 years

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I have entirely too many OCs and I won’t ever stop

So, I will list all my OCs here, active or not. I couldn’t just keep reblogging my earlier masterlist with updates because, well, wall of text much?

I try to make sure I have at least 1 character representing each race. Not all of them are canonically Dragonborn, but I’ve marked those who are with (DK) after their name, short for Dovahkiin.

And yes, this is just my Skyrim OCs. Mostly because I play it the most (hi, endless supply of easily installed mods!), and because if I added my ESO, Oblivion, Morrowind, Daggerfall, and Arena OCs, this list would almost literally never stop.

Feel free, nay, ENCOURAGED, to drop asks about these characters because I live to blab about them to anyone in earshot (why else do you run a TES blog?).

First, the actives.

Dunmer: Radene Valos. Great-granddaughter of Queen Barenziah. Nords call her “The Red Wolf” because of how ferociously she fights, usually out of a fearful and begrudging respect. Staunch revolutionary; real Magneto/Lenin red-ragger type. She’s out to improve the lot of the Dunmer in Skyrim by any means necessary and woe betide any who stands in her way or fails to help. Member of the Morag Tong and champion of Azura, Mephala, and Boethiah. Worming her way through the Stormcloaks so she can engineer a situation where all the rotten eggs of the Stormcloaks are in one basket and then blow up the basket. Also steadily poisoning most of the Black-Briar family in slow motion.

Altmer: Tarwen Verenandes (DK), a former Thalmor battlemage during the Great War. Disgusted by the violence on full display during the conflict, she resigned after the war and became a priestess of Auri-El. Her devout piety led to her being chosen by Auri-El/Akatosh to be the Last Dragonborn, and she was also gifted with being able to use Auri-El’s divine light as the basis of her spells.

Khajit: Sonn-Ja Sableclaw, an expert martial artist and assassin. Works for the Dark Brotherhood and is utterly loyal to Astrid. Prefers fisticlaws to weapons, and is absolutely lethal with them. Keeps a massive collection of knives and daggers anyway. Chose to be best friends with Arnbjorn purely for the irony. Worships Rajhin and Baan Dar.

Argonian: Murders-For-Cash, who is exactly what it says on the tin. Also Dark Brotherhood, and a Shadowscale like Veezara, who he treats like a brother. Willing to supervise children and surprisingly good at it but charges exorbitant rates for it. Worships Sithis.

Nord: Lady Gwendolyn Triggs (DK), a knight and thane in the service of Elisif the Fair and also her companion and lover. Noted for her bravery, loyalty, strength, skill in battle, and being steadfastly impossible to kill. Not part of the Imperial Legion any longer, but assists them in their operations during the Civil War anyway to both safeguard Elisif’s claim as High Queen and further her own political standing so that marriage can be an option for them. Worships the 8 post-Concordat Divines, but gives special devotion to Stendarr.

Redguard: Akivasha, an ancient Yokudan vampire Witch Queen who has awakened in the modern era. Practically a physical God. Hangs with the Dark Brotherhood because it’s the only group that has Gabriella in it. Far and away my most overpowered OC and in no way does it make her less fun. Worships Mephala and Boethiah, and begrudgingly acknowledges Molag Bal as the forefather of all vampires.

Imperial: Yezka of Vabonne, an OC who began as just a Rule 63 Geralt of Rivia. She’s a Witcher*. Like Gwendolyn, she’s easily picked out of a crowd due to her pronounced Warrior’s physique and tapestry of battle scars (I have a type). She dislikes political games, roundabout language, beating around the bush, social injustice, marginalization of the vulnerable, and has come to have a steady slow-burning hatred for humans as a general category because of the way she’s been treated over her six decades of monster hunting (she’s 93, but Witchers age super gracefully no matter the timeline). She fits in far better among Orcs, Elves, and the Beast Races who have also been so often mistrusted and ill-treated and has a lot of contacts in those communities. Oddly enough, she has a friends-with-benefits thing going with the vampires Hern and Hert at Half-Moon Mill in Falkreath because they only prey on humans and she’s never been hired to kill them. Worships Reyman Ebonarm, The Divine Black Knight.

?????: The Marked Cinder (DK), a mysterious figure completely shrouded from head to toe in rusty mail and plate that totally obscures his appearance, hiding the fact that he is essentially a charred and withered husk given new life by The Nine Divines. Doesn’t know it, but is no stranger to saving the world as the previous life of that body came to be known as The Eternal Champion during the events of Elder Scrolls Arena. Doesn’t really like or dislike anything, essentially serving as a walking meat grinder with a hunger for the forces of evil. Is closest to Arkay and Akatosh, but tends to regard the gods with equal authority and reverence.

* In my headcanon, Witchers were a kind of Spartan-II-esque initiative by the Vigilants of Stendarr to create “Super Vigilants” that could basically handle anything and everything. Thanks to the systematic alterations done to their physiology, the Witchers proved too difficult to control and due to the body count that arose whenever one went rogue it was a short-lived initiative. Yezka is among those that stayed loyal to the mission, if not to the Vigilants themselves. She’s easily my tallest character, towering over most fellow humans and slightly edging out a fully grown female Altmer due to the mutations she underwent.

Rest in Pepperonis: Inactive Characters I ran out of story for

Bosmer: Vynna the Magpie, a highly talented thief and general renegade with a fiercely vengeful streak towards the Thalmor, and Elenwyn in particular, thanks to their purge of Vynna’s family and village. Married to vengeance, will sleep with everyone else. Best archer of her era. Despite her gruff and macabre bearing and demeanor, plays the organized crime game well enough to be called the Queen-In-Shadows. Worships Y'ffre and Hircine.

Dunmer: Ineria Resvalyn, a Telvanni-descended blood mage and necromancer (her magic is big on total recycling) hailing from House Sadras. Scholar and surgeon first, adventurer second. Eccentric and catastrophically bad at dealing with normal people but makes up for it by having an indispensable skillset. Probably Asperger’s. Can Dunmer even have that? Big on Azura worship.

Breton: Fynnic Ironverse, privateer and bard by trade, full-time Casanova and pain the the ass insufferable know it all by nature. As quick with a blade as he is with his wit. Known far and wide for being the Troubadour who brought the Chicken Dance to Skyrim, for better or worse. His major at the Bard’s College was probably leaning against lampposts at night while taking long drags from his cigarette. Atheist, but his lifestyle aligns neatly with Sanguine’s domain.

Imperial: Alessia Laguardia (DK), former centurion in the Imperial Legion. now a top-tier monster Hunter. Big muscles, bigger scars, even bigger prey. Lives a largely solitary existence except for her dog, Flavia. Fond of impossibly gigantic swords and bows. Largely averse to what most would call decent clothing. Worships Kynareth.

Orc: Khauma Relaadri (DK), winner of Skyrim’s Unluckiest Parentage Award. Half Orc, Half Dunmer. Spat upon by both. Found acceptance in the Imperial Legion, and fights for the unified Empire she feels it represents. Her greatest goal is to be a hero, as it would both please Malacath and serve as a positive role model and example to other put-upon people throughout Tamriel that they can rise, no matter their circumstances. Worships Malacath.

There’s a ton of other characters that I’ve played as over the last 8 years, but above you’ll find the characters I was attached to enough to actually care to remember or keep playing.

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maskedjoker · 5 years

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Lost Fragment of Snow(English)

Story 2: Lost Fragment of Snow Red : A child with a grotesque red arm . Mana Walker: A newcomer clown employed by the circus ***

Snow falls quietly onto the Earth. As if it is healing the land which has been abused. Under the layer of gray clouds which stretch on endlessly, there stands a young boy. He is young, but alone. The boy has no name. He is only referred to as Red . Simply because of his strange, wrinkled left arm – ***

Thunder – like claps and cheers break the silence.

“Thank you for everyone’s patronage today.”

It is the voice of the pleased Ringmaster.

It looks like today’s performance is successful as well.

Thought Red distractedly as he polishes the tools in the backstage of the circus. From the slit in the hanging screens, the stage surrounded by lights could be seen.

It was beautiful and full of life—contrasting with the darkness and eeriness of the backstage.

With only a small light bulb swinging above his head, Red sits on the freezing floor and concentrates on polishing the rings.

The red and white striped rings are so big that he can only hold one.

Using both his legs to clamp the ring, and supporting it with his mostly unmovable left arm , he wipes the ring with his more nimble right hand.

In the beginning, he was unable to do these jobs well, and would always curse his left arm , but he is used to it now.

Grind the knives, then wash the clothes. The person who does odd jobs needs to do many things.

“Urgh…”

Red ’s body is shaking because of the cold.

The tent, made up of only one piece of cloth, is very cold. In order for his hand to gain some warmth, Red exhales some air on his hand. Just then, even louder cheers and claps could be heard from the stage, it sounds like they are seeing of the performers who have completed their act.

It looks like they are returning soon.

After a while, the backstage was also filled with a festive atmosphere.

The costumes made by the skilled workman are very bright.

A clown wearing a brightly coloured clown suit. An accordion player with a pleated blouse.

The magician’s sleeve was decorated with a star shaped golden button, and shone with the light.

The hair accessory decorated with flowers and jewels belonged to the female trapeze artist.

The one wearing black and white stripes was the animal trainer— The performers, who have yet to snap out from the excitement felt during the performance, walked past Red with a proud air around them.

Red glanced downwards at his own clothing.

It was extremely sloppy around the collar, and the shirt was very dirty as well. A very short vest was worn as the outer layer. In contrast, his shorts were very big, and can even be pulled to his shoulder level.

Looking at the tragic state of his clothes, it felt really out of place. The performers put their respective props in succession in front of Red, who had not moved at all.

Of course, no one will speak to him.

“The guests’ interests today were really high.”

“Yeah, I felt really great when I was balancing on the ball.”

“Me too, at that time, I really wanted to flip backwards twice.”

All of the happy conversations passed over the head of Red.

No one looked at Red in the eye.

It has always been that way.

Yes, it has always been that way.

He clenched his right hand tightly, and this told him that, it was as if his heart had been pierced by a knife, an uncontrollable grief bubbling up.

Thinking that way, Red put more force behind the hand polishing the ring.

“You’re still the same, so frustrated and hot tempered!” The person who said it was the clown Cosmos, his mouth twisted in a vulgar smile.

A white clown outfit. And on the left side of his face, a red star which is unique to the clown.

It was totally impossible to see his expression underneath the thick layer of makeup and powder, but the only fact known is the malicious twinkle in his eye.

Red looks up at Cosmos, without stopping the polishing of the prop.

He cannot let this sort of guy see his weakness.

Red immediately his hand from shaking.

Yes, this happens often.

“Every time I see your face, I lose my motivation.”

Cosmos roughly pushes Red in the chest.

Red, who is still young—not even ten years old, was flung back easily.

“And, your disgusting arm! Not only is it dirty, it can’t even move, can it? How can such a useless fellow like you manage to stay here!”

Red looks at his left arm.

On it were a few deep wrinkles, just like an arm which had been dyed by a thick coating of blood. It took him a lot of effort just to make his hand move a tiny bit. Even though he wanted it to move just like his right arm, he can’t do anything.

But—this sort of thing, has nothing to do with Cosmos.

Even he knows that this happens often, but as usual, he is unable to control his hatred for Cosmos.

Red’s eyes naturally fill up with power.

The smile suddenly disappeared from the edge of Cosmos’ mouth.

“What’s up with you, that sort of arrogant look!”

Cosmos’ fist hit Red’s chest, he groans softly. The heavy hit made him sick.

Red curled up as he knelt on the floor.

Cosmos had always been that way. Making him suffer in places where it is hard to see from the outside.

“What are you saying, hahh! You’re just a piece of trash!” This time, Cosmos used his leg to kick Red in the stomach.

Red clenched his teeth.

How can he shout?

How can he cry?

This is his only way of rebelling.

He understands the reason behind Cosmos’ frustration.

The new clown has stolen away his popularity.

He planned for himself to always be the best—to this sort of Cosmos, the fact that other people could surpass him, is the hardest fact to swallow.

He wants to break Red into pieces to vent his anger. Facing this sort of Cosmos, from the bottom of his heart, Red feels only contempt towards him.

I will absolutely not give in to this sort of person.

But Cosmos would not let him off easily.

As if he wanted Red to see his shining sneakers, Cosmos cruelly kicks Red’s stomach.

He kicked again and again, causing Red to slowly lose his consciousness. Even then, Cosmos did not forgive and finally aimed a kick at Red’s face. Red’s small body was flung away by the force of the kick, and crashed into the pile of props. “What is that noise!” The Ringmaster heard the loud crash and rushed out. He wears a top hat on his head and has a brush mustache under his nose.

Even though he is short, his pants are tight around his large belly. The buttons on the vertically striped shirt looked like it was going out pop out any moment.

The Ringmaster turned towards Cosmos, his tummy shaking.

“Cosmos, did something happen?”

The Ringmaster asked Cosmos first, as he thought it was due to the Clown’s vigorous activity.

“This bastard was lazing around. For the future of the circus, I need to teach him a lesson!”

Cosmos smiled at the Ringmaster as if he was trying to flatter him. --That’s not it!

Even though he wanted to say that, no sound came out in the end.

No, even if Red denied it, the Ringmaster wouldn’t listen anyway. In front of the Ringmaster who is only interested in money, how he sees these two people is very clear.

The Ringmaster looks at Red with cold eyes.

“…seriously, not only can you not make money, you still want to slack off. Forget about dinner tonight.”

The Ringmaster said impatiently. Then he hauls Red up.

“Who was it that took you in, with no memories and ugly looks, who was it that gave you a place to live and a job? Hmm?”

The Ringmaster leans his pudgy face close.

If he did not answer, then he won’t have a place to belong to anymore.

“…It’s you, the Ringmaster.”

“Who was it that refused to go on stage to perform and insisted on doing odd jobs? Ah?”

“…Me.”

Red replied, the Ringmaster nods in satisfaction.

“That’s right, listen up, I will not allow you to slack off. For Cosmos to think of the circus is really rare.”

“No, it’s what I’m supposed to do.”

Cosmos smiled at the Ringmaster with a smile meant to flatter.

“Really, I spent so much money buying you…you should at least earn my capital back! Definitely no slacking!”

The Ringmaster let go as he said so.

Cosmos seemed to be satisfied at last and leaves with the Ringmaster, smiling and humming to himself.

The other members look away from Red, who had collapsed on the ground, like they did not want to be involved, and left quickly. In the end, no one was left. In the backstage, which had regained its silence, Red, who is alone, finally tries to stand up.

The chilliness of the floor sends a shock through his body. “Urgh…” After an unknown amount of time, the nauseous abdominal pain finally subsided a bit.

Red gets up shakily.

No one will look at me. But, it’s fine like this. I don’t want to care about you people either.

He puts the ring which he had polished into the box, and to let out his feelings of frustration, Red walks out of the tent.

“Ah…..”

It’s a silver world outside.

White snow drifts down slowly.

No wonder it’s so cold.

The circus which was originally filled with people, noisy and extravagant, is currently standing in the square, just like a quietly blooming flower.

Red walks a few steps, unconvinced.

Shashahsha, his foot sinks into the snow.

The air he blows out is white, bone piercing cold seeps in through his thin shirt.

Even then, Red does not stop walking.

There is no place to go. But, he just wants to leave this place. Looking at the trees which have been covered by snow, just like a white sculpture. This comforted his soul a bit.

Seeing the snow that dyes everything white, it is as if his soul has turned pristine white.

It feels as if all his troubled have been forgotten.

Far away from the circus tent, Red kneels on the ground.

Quietly scooping up some of the snow, and placing some on his cheeks, which are as hot as fire.

Because of Cosmos’ hits, the corner of his mouth has cracked. Ah, even though it is painful, the coldness of the snow made him feel comfortable.

--What, in the world am I doing. Red does not have any memories of the past. When he became aware, he realised that he had been sold to the circus. Because he refused to perform on stage, so he decided to do odd jobs to earn a living.

The Ringmaster saw him as a piece of trash who cannot earn money and drifted away from him, he also became an outlet for Cosmos when he was angry, he was even forced by other members to do various things.

When can I—be freed from all these things.

Behind these strong feelings, are feelings of frustration and unease—how is he going to survive with a left arm like this.

Red touches his already protesting stomach, it still feels painful.

Now—he can’t leave. He still needs to continue this humiliating and lonely life. Because he is young, and has no one to depend on.

Red clenches his teeth.

“Eh? You’re from the circus?”

Hearing this innocent voice, Red can’t help but look up.

It was a kind looking boy wearing a large coat, the boy watches with interest.

His cheeks look rather plump.

He looks around my age.

Red looks at the young boy with a puzzled expression.

“It’s really great, the circus!”

“…”

“What tricks do you perform?”

Hearing this, Red feels a tightness in his heart.

“Nothing much…” --This guy who doesn’t know any tricks and does nothing!

The Ringmaster’s words resonate in his ear.

“Wow…the circus, it’s great. You can go to a lot of cities? And can see all sorts of people…it’s awesome!” The young boy continues talking without any prompting.

No matter which city I go to, and who I meet, it’s all the same to me.

Red rolls up his sleeve.

“…!!”

He knows that the boy’s expression has frozen.

A scary, red left arm covered in wrinkles.

“Erhm, that is, has…has something been done to your arm?”

“…”

The young boy looks at the silent Red with fear and turns around in the end, running away.

It has always been like this. Always.

He used to it.

Even though that is what he tells himself, he still feels a sharp pain in his small chest.

The quiet night seems to be able to absorb all sound.

The customers of the circus have gone back home, there is no one left. The circus members are going to sleep very soon as well.

“Ah…!”

Red gave a cry and hid behind a tree.

Someone walked out of the circus tent, it was Cosmos.

I thought he already went to rest!

Cosmos looks drunk.

He was holding a beer bottle in one hand and walking unsteadily.

“Ah~hh, I really can’t continue anymore!”

He does not greet anyone and walks to the member’s tent while talking to himself.

He’s not coming towards here. Red’s heart is pounding as he watches Cosmos quietly.

“I’m…not supposed to stay here…because I have a noble bloodline…” Cosmos, who was completely drunk, did not notice Red, who was hiding in the shadows of the trees, he simply continues walking unsteadily.

Red let out a sigh of relief and leaves the shadows of the trees.

Just like what the other members said. Cosmos will drink himself drunk every night, and complain non-stop.

--I’m not a person who should stay here Cosmos’ words echo.

This is not the place I belong to.

But, if you want to know where this place is, you are unable to find the answer. All alone.

What am I doing in this sort of place? How long will I stay in a place like this?

His stomach growls.

W soup and bread would be nice.

Red feels that his situation is too tragic, and bites his lip.

He brushes the snow of himself and walks into the tent.

“!”

The prop box’s contents, which had been arranged properly, are scattered all over, like a thief has been through it.

Red stares dumbfounded at the scattered props.

Before leaving the tent, he had already kept everything properly.

Members who have finished their work would not take the trouble to come back, they should be asleep now.

He could only think of one suspect.

--Cosmos.

The name appeared together with his anger.

It must be that drunkard.

In order to vent his dissatisfaction, he can do this sort of thing. Even then, if he leaves it like this, he would still get scolded by the Ringmaster the next morning.

--time to check the props.

If it was to vent anger, it is very possible for props to be thrown away.

The Ringmaster only thinks about money. He always thought that giving salary to the members and buying props were unnecessary.

Even if one small ball was lost, he’ll definitely lose his temper. Then throw all the blame onto Red, who does the odd jobs.

Red picks up the things scattered on the ground.

The five big balls are all there. The cigar box used for magic tricks, red, blue, yellow, two each—

Just at this moment.

A kacha sound is emitted from a wooden box.

It is box in the corner of the room, big enough to hold an adult.

--who is it, don’t tell me Cosmos is hiding inside?!

An uncontrollable feeling of violence surges up inside him.

No wait, didn’t I see him return just now?

Then, what is this-

Red watches the box warily—

A large form slowly walks out from the shadows.

“D, dog--?”

Discovering something which he didn’t consider, caused Red to be very shocked.

A huge dog had come out from the box.

Tea coloured fur mixed in with white fur which looked really soft.

On its neck was not a collar but a clown ring.

Which means, this dog belongs to the circus.

Maybe because it’s late at night, not only does it look sleepy, even its movements are dull.

So, it didn’t notice. The dog picked up a ball with a star pattern on the ground, and ran past Red , who was still in shock.

“Ah, wait!”

If one ball is missing, it would mean a lot of trouble.

Whose dog is it! Help me stop it!

Red runs after the dog in panic, out of the tent.

As Red ran through the snow, he felt as if he had seen that dog before.

Recently, a lot of new performers were hired. It should be the partner of one of the newcomers.

It should be a clown.

The circus is a gathering of wanderers.

It’s a place where people of different backgrounds and different goals gather.

And because the Ringmaster is prone to mood swings, the turnover rate of the circus is high.

Because of this, Red cannot remember everyone’s faces.

They are people who are going to leave anyway—

That dog walked towards the darkness.

He is unable to catch up with the dog which can run through the snow easily, so the distance between and the dog grew bigger and bigger.

“Ah!”

Red’s foot sinks into the snow, causing him to fall over.

The cold sensation of the snow causes him to get up hurriedly.

If the prop is lost, I’ll be beaten up again, and I will not get anything to eat again.

His cheeks throb.

“I’m telling you to wait!” Red shouts.

The dog continues running single-mindedly, as if it did not hear the shouts. In the darkness of the outdoors, he searches for the dog’s footprints, but has stopped running.

He is at his limit. “…”

Not only has he been hit, and kicked, his stomach is extremely empty well, there is also the freezing air and the snow which traps his feet.

He is unable to think about anything else.

Red collapses on to the snow, like he had turned limp.

And just like that, he flips over.

Red lies spread-eagled in the snow.

“Hah, hah!”

His rapid breathing could not slow down.

His heart is pounding furiously.

Snow falls onto Red .

His body is covered in white.

He’s cold, and tired, and heart-broken, and suffering—

--he can’t think of anything anymore.

PA!

“!!”

His face seems to be hit by something like a ball.

Red opens his eyes, and discovered that the dog that he should have lost was in front of him.

The dog seems to want to say something. It opens his mouth and pants.

“Wha, what?”

At this moment, the dog quickly stands up on its hind legs. ***

Then shakes its head vigorously.

“Ah---“

The clown tag shakes together with the dog’s movement.

In the midst of the heavy snow, the clown tag shines under the dim street lights.

As it turns, it is as mystifying as the dances from another country.

Red stares dumbfounded at the sight.

Just then, the dog meets Red’s eyes.

That expression is very playful—

This mutt—

He finally understands why the dog ran out.

That right, he wants to play.

No, it should be he wants to tease me.

Even if he knew that—

Red picks up the ball dropped on the ground, and threw it towards the dog.

Even though it was meant as a small joke, the dog jumped lightly and catches the ball perfectly in mid-air with its mouth.

The dog puts down the ball in its mouth.

“Take this!”

Red picks up the ball. This time, he throws it further and harder.

In the air where snowflakes are drifting, the star shaped ball leaves its perfect trajectory.

The dog ran across the ground like a typhoon and jumps towards the grey sky.

Just like it was dancing in the air, the dog catches the ball easily—Red is fascinated with such a scene.

He is very agitated.

The hatred and anger in the depths of his heart had melted—that was the feeling he had.

Red held onto that feeling, and threw the ball again and again.

The dog gracefully leapt through the air to grab the ball, as if it did not want to lose.

This elation was a feeling he did not experience before.

Red couldn’t help but shout and leap in joy.

I really want to stay on a stage like this. When he came to his senses, the pain and hunger pangs have decreased greatly. ***

The person doing odd jobs needs to wake up very early.

“Okay, Red. This is the last one.”

“…”

Red grumpily puts the bowl of soup and bread onto the trolley.

He just needs to send these to the Magician’s tent.

As long as he finishes this, then he can finally eat.

“Breakfast!”

“How slow!”

One of the performers glanced at Red expressionlessly.

“…Sorry.”

Breakfast is sent late because the performers are not popular.

Eating order is determined by popularity.

It looks like this performer’s patience is going to run out soon.

This fact would probably irritate him even more.

Red leaves the tent he just entered. He doesn’t want to be taken apart.

Even then, Cosmos still shouted at him this morning.

--Why am I not the first one? You bastard, you spoke about the previous incident, did you?

Red hurriedly ran away from the angry looking Cosmos.

If he got beaten up again, he wouldn’t be able to take it.

Red breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he can eat his own meal in the corner of the kitchen.

“Hurry up and finish eating!”

The chef said these unkind words, like he did not want to see Red at all.

Because of Red’s ugly arm, a lot of people hate him. He’s used to such cold looks already. Red holds the bowl of soup.

His tightened stomach felt a bit warmer because of the soup.

Red quickly left the tent after finishing and distributing the food.

The person doing odd jobs has a lot of work.

I need to finish them quickly.

Red picks up the performer’s clothes which have been drying at the corner of the tent.

Using his immobile left hand to support the clothes, and using his right hand to tightly hug the bundle.

“Okay…”

All he has to do with bring these to the backstage and stack them piece by piece in an orderly manner.

Because he’s already used to it, he can quickly finish the job with only his right hand.

Sometimes, performers will walk past him.

But no one will talk to him.

Red will not talk to anyone as well.

Every day, in the backstage, he is used like a tool.

These sort of lonely jobs are also very common.

Common—

At that moment, someone nudges him from behind.

“!!!”

He turns around in shock, and saw the dog, with ragged breathing, behind him.

“…Huh, it’s you again!”

Red gave a cold look at the mutt staring at him with a wet nose.

Maybe it was satisfied with the reply, the dog sat down next to Red.

After that snowy night, the dog will always pick the times when Red is alone to be next to him.

Red ignored the dog, and turned his back on it to fold the clothes.

The dog stayed next to him quietly.

He can feel the dog breathing behind him, and sometimes, it was very clear that it had yawned. Who’s going to turn back?

Red continued to sit with his back to the dog.

And simply continued with his work.

Quietly, he wanted to suppress his feelings.

Actually—really, he wants to pat it.

He wants to play with the dog.

He wants to be really close to it.

The elation he felt that snowy night, replayed itself in his mind over and over again.

It was the first time since he came to the circus.

That he can feel happy from the bottom of his heart. But—

“Strange? What happened to that acrobat? (The one who balances on the ball)

“Ohh, that one? He resigned yesterday.”

“Is it? He should have said something—whatever, it doesn’t matter much anyway.”

Hearing the conversation of the performers walking past him, Red clenches his teeth.

It is difficult to tell when the performers will leave one after another.

The dog’s owner will leave one day, and go to another place.

That means that he would not be able to see the dog again.

Red could not tolerate it anymore, and stole a backward glance at the dog.

The dog’s good senses picked that up and shook its head.

This pitiful action, made Red feel very warm inside.

Something warm gushes out from the depths of his soul.

Red stops the hand folding the clothes, then clenches his fist, looking away from the dog.

I can’t get close to him.

Definitely not. The presence of the dog behind him pains him, Red thought of it that way.

This dog will leave me soon, together with its owner.

If I accept it, it will be especially painful when we say goodbye.

It would definitely be as painful as stabbing a knife through his chest, an unimaginable pain.

It may also be as painful as swallowing a rock.

No matter what, it will only increase the feelings of loneliness.

Once he thinks about this, it feels like he fell into a deep chasm.

So I will turn my back to it.

Red concentrates on his job once more.

Red does not talk to it, does not pat it, and even more, did not pay attention to it at all—

Even then—

The dog keeps loitering behind him. ***

“Ka!” Red’s face comes into contact with hard object. It’s a ball used in transformation magic.

“Ow…”

He bears the pain and lifts up his head, only to come into eye contact with Cosmos, who is filled with nastiness.

“Drat, it’s because the ball slipped from my hand! Having been touched by such a dirty hand, the ball is really dirty! If the stunt fails because of this, then it is definitely your fault.”

“…”

He meticulously polishes the props every day. But, not just Cosmos, many others like to blame Red.

If things cannot be performed properly by the person, the props are blamed.

They’re so shameless.

It’s too much.

Red stares disgustedly at Cosmos, whose back is facing him. He had taken off his wig and thrown it on the floor.

Even though Cosmos often finds faults with Red, Cosmos is in a very bad mood these few days.

Because a clown more popular than Cosmos has appeared.

That would be the dog’s owner. All of the clown’s techniques are well executed; his amusement tactics are unique; and the special canine partner, both of them are very popular.

His popularity continues to increase. Now, there is a rumor that many returning customers specially come to watch his show.

“It looks like Cosmos may not be able to snatch his No. 1 spot back.”

He remembered that someone has whispered this sentence before—

“Oi!”

The low, angry voice, made Red jump.

It came from Cosmos, who had stuck his head in through the Circus’ curtains.

And I thought he had gone outside already.

His heart beats furiously.

He’s going be get badly beaten up again.

“I have something to talk about with a useless fellow like you. Hurry up and come!”

Red stands up slowly.

He wanted to reject Cosmos, but if Red did not listen, he will be on the receiving end of more violent beatings.

With no abilities, a left arm which cannot move.

No one will protect a troublesome person like Red.

Red can only surrender to the flow of events.

Cosmos grabbed Red’s arm and dragged him to the small pocket of trees outside.

After removing the wig, Cosmos’ golden hair drapes around his face, giving off an even more disgusting feeling.

“Oi, you, seem really close to that dog, right!”

“D,dog…?”

For a short moment, Red did not know what Cosmos was talking about. But after a while, he realised that Cosmos was referring to the dog which kept following him.

“I’m referring to that smelly dog with a collar around its neck. Listen, you must not tell anyone!”

Cosmos lowers his volume and whispers next to Red’s ear.

Then, he shoves a small bag to Red.

Even though he was very reluctant, but Red accepts it anyway.

“What, is this….”

Touching it lightly, he realises that it’s hard. With a very bad feeling, Red looks into the bad and gasps in shock.

There was a lot of crushed glass in the bag.

Reflected in Cosmos’ light blue eyes was the expression of cruelty.

“Mix these things into the dog’s food.”

For a while, Red does not understand the implications behind the statement.

“Eh, ehh? If I did that—“

Red got slapped, hard.

Cosmos started to shout at Red, who was stunned by the blow.

“No nonsense from you! It’ll be fine as long as you do as I say. Unless brat!”

His face, which was hit, hurt a lot.

Then, Cosmos’ statements started circulating in his head.

The dog, whose tag kept spinning, in the heavy snow.

The dog, which will use its nose to nudge his back when he’s stacking the clothes.

The dog, which will quietly follow him when he’s moving props.

“…I won’t!”

He says it easily.

“Hah?”

“I won’t do this sort of thing!”

Red throws the bag back to Cosmos.

The bag full of glass, lands at Cosmos’ feet with a crack.

Cosmos runs a hand through his hair, and breathes in impatiently.

Then he takes a big step forward.

His light blue eyes giving off a fierce look, Cosmos brutally gives a kick in Red’s direction.

After that, was a flurry of kicks.

Red collapses with a groan.

Chest, stomach, leg—

His body is in so much pain that it feels like it’s falling apart, but the blows keep coming.

But Red continues clenching his teeth.

He will never say “Yes”—even if he was killed.

He swore to himself. His vision starts to blur.

Ah, am I going to die—

Just as he loses consciousness, he hears a dog barking. ***

“Urgh…”

Red gets up slowly. Suddenly, pain courses through his body.

Slowly, he becomes more alert.

“Ah…”

Red remembers.

Cosmos took him outdoors, told him to feed glass to the dog, then because Red refused, he got violently beaten up—but it feels like he had heard a dog barking…

What he heard before he lost consciousness should not be that dog’s barking.

Red felt a chill go down his spine.

He had—a bad feeling.

What if, it came to save him.

If that was the case.

Cosmos wants to kill that dog. It’s possible that something had been done already.

The sun had already set, and the surroundings are getting dark.

Red stands up slowly and shakily made his way back to the Circus.

After entering the tent, he crossed the backstage to glance at the stage.

“Ah--”

He felt extremely relieved.

The dog’s performing on the stage with its owner.

Leaping to catch the ball, the tag turning round and round—

Red breathed a sigh of relief seeing its energetic self.

And I thought Cosmos had done something to it, it looks fine.

The bark that he heard before he lost consciousness must be an illusion.

Maybe it was because he felt relieved, Red, who displayed no interest in the performances before, stood quietly by the curtains watching the stage.

The dog’s owner took a cup out from the box and swung the cup around in an amusing manner.

Then threw it towards the dog. But, the dog turned in the other direction with a ‘humph’, as if it was ignoring him.

The dog’s owner shrugged his shoulders, and—stuck both his hands on his face.

This hilarious look caused some outburst amongst the audience.

The dog’s owner then took the ball with the star shaped pattern.

“Ah…”

Red exclaimed to himself as the memories of that snowy night resurfaced.

The dog caught the ball which the owner threw very gracefully.

Loud claps ensued as the audience saw how experienced the dog was when it caught the ball.

The dog’s owner was indeed more popular than Cosmos, his tricks were varied and exquisite.

Sometimes hilarious, other times elegant and showy.

The audiences’ eyes were always filled with light; they laughed till they fell over, and they wouldn’t stop clapping.

He was able to transform the rowdy audience into one entity.

Everyone was absorbed with his performance.

Being able to perform with such an owner must be a very happy thing.

The dog performed, full of life.

It was so bright.

The clown, and the dog—

Red couldn’t help but squint.

It was too bright.

The customers and the dog, they loved the clown on the stage.

It was an incomprehensible feeling.

Love, and being loved—this had nothing to do with him.

He would not love anyone, and no one would love him.

Even though it was right in front to him, it needed to be treated like something that happens in a land far away.

“Urgh…”

Something warm is rising up in his chest.

Red tries to keep it down. Possessing an ugly arm, abandoned by his parents, isolated by others in the circus, and having to worry about violence every day.

One day, there was a dog.

There was a dog.

At my side where no one would approach, there was a dog.

Until the day, I always thought it was okay to be alone.

But it’s not like that—

I was only forcing myself. If I did not do that, I would not be able to live on. The situation happening in front of me, part of a bright world—is that “love”?

If it is like that—then I want to obtain “love”

I envy those with “love”. I am too lonely, too miserable.

Even though it’s just right in front of me, I can’t touch it.

I am unable to obtain it.

When I realized it.

My face was covered in tears…

After the performance, the clown and dog returned to the backstage.

“Bark!”

The dog discovers Red, and bounds towards him happily.

Thump thump, his heart is pounding.

What, what should I do? What should I—

Many emotions are swirling in his heart.

The image of the brightness of the dog and the clown on stage, surfaced in Red’s mind.

“Shoo, go away!”

Red kicks hard, and sends the dog flying.

Bark! The dog whimpers and falls on the floor. “Ah--”

Red is stunned.

I, I didn’t want—to do this sort of thing…

He quickly runs away from the place.

He just kept running and running, unable to control his sad emotions.

So envious.

So jealous—

He did not know what to do anymore.

Red, who was confused, did not realised that he had just brushed past Cosmos.

He also did not realise that Cosmos was currently rubbing his leg, which had been bitten by a dog, with a vengeful look. ***

Ever since that day, the dog never returned to Red’s side.

It was expected, because he suddenly sent it flying.

But he did not feel any pain.

In fact, he thought it was better that way.

Because he did not want to see them.

Just hurry up and go to another place, stay out of my sight.

This circus is just a temporary stop.

The performers will appear before disappearing one after another.

Because it’s all temporary, so there cannot be any expectations. It will only cause pain.

Therefore, do not get attached to others, and do not let others get attached to me.

But—something aches in heart.

“Red, I’m going out to buy something, come with me as well!”

“Yes!” Red was called out by the chef, into the streets.

The streets are filled with Christmas decorations, it was very lively outside.

In the more prosperous stores lining the road, there were many customers.

There were also many roadside stalls, trying to promote their wares.

Everyone is looking at presents happily.

Children circle innocently around their parents.

All of this feels a world away.

The chef would not talk to him as well.

Red walks on the prosperous streets silently.

In this place, he could feel the difference between him and the happy people.

I am—very lonely.

But, it isn’t that bad.

It’s fine like this.

After shopping, he put the mountain of bread, meat, vegetables, wine and other things onto the trolley and pushed it back to the circus. He sees the dog sleeping beside the heater.

Normally, just before the performance, it would always be practicing together with its owner.

What’s wrong, is it not feeling well?

Red hesitates in approaching the dog.

He remembered that he had sent the dog flying.

I did something really horrible to it.

It’s still a better decision not to get myself involved.

But—

He slowly approaches the dog, still feeling hesitant.

The dog is lying on its side, with no energy in its limbs.

The coat covering the dog must belong to its owner. Even though the coat is really old, once you look closely, it’s actually of high quality.

The dog’s chest rises and falls. The dog, which is breathing deeply as it sleeps, now looks older than he imagined.

And very weak as well.

Red stretches his arm towards the dog, he is worried.

--it’s okay if I just touch it a bit, right?

But I could be hated already.

Even though he felt uneasy, but he still reached out regardless.

He nervously touched the dog’s body.

The dog did not move.

Slowly stroking its body, the dog suddenly opened its eyes.

“Ah…”

I must have woken it up.

Seeing Red standing there, the dog got up quickly.

Watching Red’s face, it quickly used its back legs to stand up, panting as it did then. Then, it collapsed on the floor.

It must want to perform tricks for him.

The dog rolls around listlessly.

Red continuously rubs the body of the dog, which had fallen down once again.

He wants to make up for sending it flying.

Can this intent reach—

The dog looks comfortable, and licks Red’s hand.

It licked the hand which everyone was disgusted with, the left hand.

Red felt all warm inside.

Like he had been forgiven.

He strokes the dog again.

“If you’re healthy again, if you get well, if-- ”

He said it naturally. It was almost like a prayer.

Red concentrates on stroking the dog.

Then, there was a taste of sunlight.

The dog which was being stroked quietly.

It was as if time had stopped between them.

Just then, the bell announcing the start of the performance rings.

The dog’s ears perked up instantly.

It got up quickly and ran to its owner’s side.

Seeing it like that, Red breathes a sign of relief.

Maybe it was just a little tired…

He holds his hand tenderly.

If it’s possible, he would want to touch it more. ***

It was still snowing heavy up till yesterday, but today, there were no clouds in the sky.

“Ah…”

Red, who had finished washing the clothes, discovered the dog’s owner sitting by himself under a tree near the tent.

It’s Christmas Day today. The performers have all gone out to the street to publicise their performance.

The man in the clown suit did not move at all, just like a puppet which had lost its strings.

The man just silently stared at the ground in front of him.

--What is he doing?

If he’s just resting, then this scene is weird.

But, it has nothing to do with me.

Red will not approach the performers on his own, because they will think Red is disgusting, and ignore him, or order him around like a servant.

But no matter what, he is still concerned. He is the person who is partnered with the dog.

What kind of person is he?

Red moves closer to the man.

“--!”

He almost stopped breathing.

In the man’s line of sight is a hole—the dog is lying in it.

“Is it dead?”

The man stared at Red, with a rather shocked expression.

From the clown’s makeup, he can see that his eyes are a deep gold colour.

“It’s dead.”

The man replied, loneliness evident in his voice.

Then, he started to pile soil on top of the dog.

Red watches all of this quietly.

“…those are all bruises!”

Even under the fur, it can be seen that the dog is covered in bruises that would make anyone wince.

It spoke plainly about how the dog met its end.

--there was only one possibility.

Cosmos.

That guy killed it. A boiling anger surged forth.

Endlessly churning, boiling vigorously.

“It was definitely done by that guy Cosmos. Because, you’re more popular than he is. As long as someone is more popular than him, he would not let it go. His performance skills are obviously bad, but he’s good at doing these things!”

Red started to say without pause, as if he had been possessed.

Compared to the agitated Red, the man replied blandly.

“It had been with me for a very long time, so it wouldn’t have much time left anyway. Forget it.”

“…”

The dog’s body is now totally buried in the soil; the man gently put the ball with the star pattern on the ground, just like a gravestone.

--Forget it.

Hearing this, Red realises that he is very disappointed.

Why, isn’t he angry? Why doesn’t he hate Cosmos?

The fury he felt burned more strongly than before. Red, who can’t do anything, found himself unable to divert any of these feelings.

“Then you’re not taking revenge?”

“If I did that, I’ll be chased out by the Ringmaster, which would mean that whatever I did before would be wasted.”

After saying that, the man put his palms together in front of the grave.

--Che.

What is this.

His partner had been murdered!

How can he be so calm?

Even I hate Cosmos this much already.

At least he should mention something about revenge, right?

Opposite from what Red was feeling at this moment, the man is very calm.

“I’m an outsider anyway. I’ll be leaving for another place after Christmas tomorrow…”

“I see.”

Behind his peaceful answer, Red’s emotions are in turmoil.

He totally regretted it.

To be touched by the performance of such a person, he’s really an idiot.

The man who would not even shed a tear, it’s too much.

The dog’s owner is actually this sort of person.

He really wants to leave quickly. But he is unable to look away from the dog’s grave.

“Hmm?”

The man only looks at Red now.

“Then again, who are you?”

“I’m the one doing odd jobs here…I bought your meals before.”

“I’m not good at remembering faces. Ah, now that I’ve looked closely, aren’t you covered in bruises too?!”

The man licked his own finger and rubbed it against Red’s face.

Facing this sort of unexpected action, Red dodges.

“Wah! It’s gross! Don’t use your saliva, idiot!”

“It’s antiseptic. Were you hit by Cosmos too?”

“You’re irritating!”

Even though that was the case, he did not want to admit it.

“Do you have friends?”

“You’re irritating!!”

Red shouts.

“This sort of place…I definitely leave once I grow up, so friends or whatever, I don’t need them!”

He remembers the boy’s expression, who had run away after seeing his left arm.

A terrified and disgusted expression.

I don’t need friends or anything like that—

Red is shocked.

The man used both his hands—and squeezed his face.

“What the heck are you doing!”

“You don’t have any energy?”

The man asks, surprised.

Red has no idea what he’s talking about. It was infuriating.

Then, he recalled that the man used that gesture to create an outburst of laughter amongst the audience.

“I’m sorry, I don’t like clowns. In fact, I dislike them?”

“Aiyaya!”

The man smiles.

“I dislike audience and children who don’t laugh as well!”

“Hmph!”

Red just stares at the dog’s grave. As he thought, since he couldn’t understand, so he can’t leave.

“You…why aren’t you crying? You lived with this guy. It’s not possible not to feel sadness?

When he realised it, the clown was not around anymore.

“?”

As he turned, he found that the man had used a rope to hand himself off the nearby tree.

“I’m so sad I could die.”

“Stop it!”

It could be an act, such a scary feeling.

I have a feeling, this guy, doesn’t feel right…?

“You see, I, can’t cry.”

The man removed the rope from his neck, and explains blandly.

“Maybe it’s already dry. No tears can come out.”

“What kind of explanation is that!”

This person is hard to comprehend.

Red’s attention returns to the grave.

Then again—

“This guy, what’s its name?”

The clown is silent. “I touched it yesterday, and it licked me, it felt so warm!”

That dog which licked him happily.

That dog did not care about my ugly hand at all.

“So today, I also…”

The words are at the tip of his tongue, his whole body is shaking, tears fall without warning.

I also wanted to pat it today. Like, do your best today as well.

“Why, only having this sort of relationship with it, why am I crying…!”

He can’t hold it in anymore.

Red lets out all the feelings that he kept in.

“Wahhh-------------!!”

This is the first time he cried out loud.

The tears flowing down his cheeks feel hot.

“I see.”

The man watches Red, who is crying.

“You’re Allen’s friend.”

--Friend.

This word kept circling around in his mind.

That dog was actually named Allen.

I—have never called that name before.

He recalls the warmth when he stroked the dog.

He wanted to call out its name.

He wanted to be close to it.

Red cried until he was exhausted, and even fell asleep. And the man, just like a puppet with broken strings, just sat next to him. ***

“Urm…” A comfortable swaying—

Red wakes up from a peaceful nap.

How warm…

What, is this…

“Ah!”

Red realises that he’s being carried by the Clown.

He also knows how red his face is.

“Put, put me down!”

As Red said so, the Clown smiles while his body bobs up and down, walking lightly. It wasn’t long before they returned to the tent.

The Clown put Red next to the heater.

“What, what are you doing…”

Even after Red asked, the man does not reply. Not just that, his legs are shaking, like they have been frozen.

“What? Are you cold?”

The man takes out his own coat puts it around him, his expression warms up and he smiles slightly.

“…? You want to say that you’re warmer?...You think you’re acting a mime performance?!”

Then, the man wraps his coat around Red.

It was the coat which covered the dog yesterday.

It’s warm…

A smell just like the sun wafts out. That guy’s smell…

The temperature of the coat, caused him to remember the dog’s warmth. Tears well up, this time, a silk cap was pushed on him.

The silk cap is slightly larger than Red head, and soft.

“Wait, what are you doing, really?!”

The Clown smiled as usual, after that, the Clown passes over the circus’ flyer. ***

The streets on Christmas are more lively than before.

The street lights are decorated and people are outdoors, carrying the goods needed for Christmas celebrations.

The smell of meat and bread mixes together with the noisy crowd.

Cheerful cries are heard.

Surrounded by the excitement, Red and the man walk along the streets.

The performers are showing off their skills in the open area.

Red, who was forced to follow, passes out flyers next to the performing Clown.

“…Why do I have to do these sort of things…whatever, I’m supposed to do odd jobs anyway.”

Even though he is not used to being in public, but the coat which the Clown gave him covers up with ugly left arm, so he ignores the stares which others people are giving.

“Wah, look quickly!”

“It’s a clown!”

“It’s great, so vibrant!”

The people who were passing by stopped in their tracks, and smiled at the clown’s performance.

Red, who was standing nearby, had to admit.

This man’s performance has to be the best one so far.

A crying boy approaches.

Even with his mother trying to comfort him, the boy does not stop crying.

The clown gracefully appears in front of the boy.

Then he smiles, pulling a balloon out from his sleeve. Then he inflates the balloon and ties a knot.

What he made was a balloon dog.

The clown passes the balloon to the boy, the boy stopped sniffling and his face is radiant.

It’s perfect.

The children around the clown quickly gathered around him.

“I want one too, I want one too~” “Me too~!”

The clown is surrounded by smiling children.

Red glances over at the clown while distributing the fliers, and the clown turned in his direction.

“What, what is it?”

The clown did a funny action, first walking around with a spring in his step, then doing a handstand, with just one hand.

The people who were watching clapped.

The clown turned once before standing up again, then danced around in circles.

“Wa..wah!”

Then suddenly spread out his arms and used two fingers to point at Red.

Yes, like he meant “He’s up next”

The surrounding audience watched Red expectantly.

“Eh? Ehh?”

Red, who was suddenly pointed out, is stunned.

Seeing his stunned state, the clown tilted his head and shrugged his shoulders, as if he can’t help it.

Seeing this action, the audience laughed as well.

They thought he had no courage—

Red, competitive by nature, flares up.

I’ll do it, just you see!

Red puts the fliers aside, and stepped on the ground.

The scenery went by in a circle.

A flip in the air. He’s still confident on the nimbleness of his body. After landing lightly on the ground like a cat, the audience clapped and cheered.

The clown crossed his arms, like he’s considering something.

Then he snaps his fingers.

He gently lifts up one leg and on tip-toe, slowly turned one round. This amusing ballet move caused the audience to laugh.

If it like that, I’ll do it too.

“Everyone stand back please!”

After saying so, Red did a little jog and with a push of his arm, executed a somersault, and jumped back up again lightly.

This showy move attracted more applause and cheers.

The clown then pretended he was so shocked that he fell over, which bought about more laughter.

The clown got up slowly, and smiled at Red. And Red also had a smile on his face, although he did not know when it happened.

They bowed deeply to the audience and loud claps could be heard around them.

Being clapped for, and making people happy, this was the first time it has happened.

The clown passed the silk cap over.

Red held the cap out and some of the audience threw coins in.

My skills were recognised?

Red started to blush—

“Kid, what’s your name?”

Turning around, he sees a man wearing a coat on top of his black priest clothing.

The silver cross on his chest is shining.

He was a big man, Red raises his head, feeling rather nervous. The man puts money into his cap, and watches him.

His eyes were sharp—like they can see through everything.

Even though he’s wearing priest robes, the man gives off a scary threatening aura.

Red is shocked, and stares dumbly at the man.

His deep red hair, the colour of blood, and covering half his face, is tied in a ponytail,

The man’s stare seems to stick onto his body, and feels cold.

“Didn’t you hear me? Your name.”

This pressuring sentence caused Red to jolt. I don’t have a name. Telling himself that, Red ignores the red haired man.

“Oi!”

He acts like he did not hear the man’s voice and continues to give out flyers while saying promotional statements.

“You’re called Allen?”

“No!”

He mumbled, giving a negative.

He actually said I’m Allen? What is this man saying.

Red glanced at this man.

Allen is the dog’s—

“Not a dog.”

The man replies like he can see through Red’s thoughts.

“…Hah?”

“…If that’s not your name then forget it, listen up, brat, don’t get too close to Mana.”

The red haired man says before disappearing amongst the crowd.

What is up with that…

The man is different from all the people he had seen so far.

What kind of person is he?

Red watches the man leave, his heart pounding.

After he had distributed all the fliers, Red sees the clown.

“Mana…?”

“Hmm?”

The clown reacts to Red’s words.

“Mana?”

He asks the clown. The clown nods.

“Hmm?” “Are you called Mana?”

“Yes.”

Thinking about it, Red finds out that he does not know the clown’s name yet.

“How did you know my name?”

“Just now, a strange man with red hair wearing priest robes spoke with me. That guy told me ‘Don’t get close to Mana’--”

After saying that, Mana’s expression became weird.

It was Red’s first time seeing his serious expression, and felt a little shocked.

Then he suddenly ran off.

“Mana?!”

Red follows in panic.

“Mana, what’s wrong?”

“I need to find that person!”

Mana looks around frantically.

But there was no trace of the red haired man in priest robes.

“Mana, he can’t be found anymore!”

Mana does not listen to Red’s words at all.

So he runs around the streets aimlessly, with no results.

The sun had already set.

The circus performance is going to start soon, it’s time to return.

Mana’s shoulders slump in disappointment.

“…Why do you spend so much effort looking for him, do you know him?” After Red asked the question, Mana replies with loneliness.

“That could be my little brother.”

“Little brother…?”

Mana, not giving up, continued to search through the crowd. He steps forward shakily.

“Ah, wait!”

Mana is still focused on searching the crowd.

Red’s voice did not reach him.

Just then, a horse carriage rushes towards them.

Within a split second, Red pushes Mana into a nearby drain.

“Wah…be careful!”

“…”

“You almost died!”

Even though Mana was reprimanded by Red, his eyes never leave the crowd.

“Seriously, I can’t handle you.”

Red brings him to a park nearby to wash off the dirt acquired when they fell into the drain.

Mana also removed his clown makeup and took off his wig.

Red couldn’t help but stare at Mana’s face.

This was his first time seeing Mana’s real face.

A sharp nose, and a face with wrinkles which showed his age.

And the feature which leaves the biggest impression, a pair of bright gold eyes. Mana meets Red’s stare.

Being stared by Red so much will still make him feel embarrassed, Mana turns away.

“Really, you need to be more careful. You, if I didn’t save you, you would have died!”

“Death is really such a dislikeable thing!”

Mana said, laughing.

“So, you have to be more careful!”

“I guess you’re right, I apologise. Ahh, today’s weather is really good!”

“…what does this matter have to do with weather?”

“The evening sun during this sort of day is the most beautiful.”

“As—I—said, I wasn’t talking about that, I want you to be more careful! I know you’re worried about your brother, but!”

Seeing Red looking rather miffed, Mana smiles slightly.

“You know, I’m only seventeen.”

“Hah?”

Mana looks like a middle aged man no matter how you looked at him.

It could be that Mana sensed what Red was thinking, he smiles, looking rather troubled.

“When I woke up one morning, I realized that I have became a middle aged man. I don’t know the reason at all. But, I was a seventeen year old youth the day before. At the beginning, when I saw my own face in the mirror, I was really shocked!”

Red directed a weird look at Mana, who had suddenly said something weird.

So he really is a rather weird—no, really weird person.

“Even then, after I stared at my looks for a while, I still managed to calm down, then I felt something was strange.”

Red just listens silently without saying anything. Mana felt that Red must be waiting for him to continue, so he continues speaking.

“I have a little brother, but he is nowhere to be found.”

Mana quietly leans towards Red.

“I will say this to you only…”

He moves his face closer to Red’s ear and whispers.

“I am being chased. If I get caught, I’ll definitely be killed.”

“By whom?”

“I think it’s someone called the Millennium Earl, he is a person who can turn humans in AKUMA. Because there are AKUMA everywhere, you’ll need to stay alert.”

Then Mana places a finger over his lips.

This action definitely belongs to a child, this sort of behaviour does not suit him. Red feels that this person is not just abnormal, he could be suffering from some illness.

“My brother must have been separated from me. I must find him. Because if I have turned into this sort of middle aged man, even if he sees me, he won’t recognize me. I need to go and find him…so I need to be alone, and begin my life of wandering.”

“Is that so?”

Red, who had been silent the whole time, speaks.

“Your little brother could have abandoned you.”

He says this subconsciously.

After the sentence left his mouth, Red is shocked at himself.

“If, if it’s true, what do you plan to do…”

Because of the ugly left arm, you were sold to the circus.

That was what he heard from the Ringmaster.

Being pulled into the circus for an unknown reason, and constantly bullied after that.

Being loathed because of his hideous left arm.

The members who treated him like he’s an object.

It only left disgusting memories.

So he shields away from any relationships that have to do with him.

Because I have been hated by everyone.

Even my parents—abandoned me.

But even a person like me, still had a dog to keep me company. But, it was killed.

The feeling of happiness only stayed for a while.

The painful memories up till now resurfaced in an instant, and it showed in his choice of words.

Red knew what was true sadness and Mana just watched the sky quietly.

The sky was dyed beautifully by the evening sun.

The mix of red and orange, reflected in the snow on the ground, is very dazzling. The rays of the sun lit up the plants, trees and people, changing slowly.

“How beautiful!”

Mana praises. “I love beautiful worlds the best.”

Mana says, yet he looks like he had cried. ***

The time for the performance is nearing. When they returned from the streets, they found a large crowd.

Perhaps it was to get good seats, everyone arrived early.

Entering the circus tent, Red is shocked.

He realises that Cosmos is waiting there.

He is wearing the clown getup, his arms crossed, smiling to himself.

The peace obtained from the time he spent with Mana disappeared without a trace.

This bastard—it was this bastard who killed Allen.

Yet Cosmos is still looking around happily.

“What happened to your partner?”

Mana tilts his head.

“…Who, are you? I’m, not very good at remembering faces…”

Cosmos expression distorts suddenly

“~~~~?! I’m Cosmos!”

“If many customers come today, it’ll be really great~~~”

Saying that, Mana walks away and disappears to the other side of the canvas.

His steps are light, giving people the impression that he had forgotten his dog’s death.

…Mana may think it’s alright, but I will not think that way.

Red glares at Cosmos.

“…You killed it, didn’t you?”

“Hah?”

Cosmos looks at Red.

“The dog’s dead. It’s body full of wounds. The only person who would do it is you!” “Of course that’s impossible! Calm down, Red. Haha—hmm, that’s right, that’s right. Hey—everyone! Let’s hear what Red just said!”

Hearing the commotion, the other circus members came over.

Cosmos surveys his surroundings with a smile.

“It looks like that cute dog is dead. And, it was Red who killed it.”

“Wha…!”

Hearing Cosmos words, Red sucked in a breath of cold air.

“You were performing some tricks with that clown during the day, weren’t you? You may have felt that that dog was in the way, so you killed it to be its replacement!”

“How could I have done that!”

When he was about to say—that it was rubbish, Red felt it.

The other members are giving him cold stares.

He also knows that he is shaking.

--In this place, I’m just a burden. No one would believe me.

His feelings of rage have reached his limit.

“Arghhh!”

He picks up a nearby plank and swings it at Cosmos with all of his strength. But he can only use one hand, and a scrawny child cannot release that much power.

“Ugh!”

Red sighs in irritation, and Cosmos shouts exaggeratedly while holding his shoulder.

“AHHHH!”

Hearing the sound, the Ringmaster rushes over.

“What’s wrong, Cosmos!”

Cosmos jumps towards the Ringmaster’s stomach, saying.

“That bastard, actually used a plank to hit me! Argh…my hand…”

The Ringmaster glares at Red with fury in his eyes, and used the plank, which had dropped on the ground, to hit him. “Ah!”

Then he repeatedly used the plank to beat up Red, who had fallen on the ground.

He did it until the plank broke, and angrily threw the broken part at Red.

“You, you bastard…you’re just a useless person!”

He glares at Red on the ground, vein popping.

Anger had caused his fat body to shake.

“I can’t tolerate it anymore. Throw him into the animal cage!”

The Ringmaster speaks like he’s going to abandon Red. Red can tell.

--He didn’t even ask for the reason.

To everyone, the truth is not important at all.

For matters concerning me, to everyone—

A boiling anger overflows.

“Okay, come here!”

The Ringmaster reaches out, like he wants to grab him. But Red escapes easily and rushes at Cosmos again.

Anger had caused the scene in front of him to turn red.

Whatever it is, I don’t care.

He just felt that this cannot be forgiven.

He remembers the dog’s corpse, covered in bruises.

Allen jumping around energetically. Always following behind him. And he would even lick the left hand that everyone is disgusted with.

At least, let me take revenge for him.

Even though I’m not his owner.

Even though I’ve only been contact with it for a short time.

But it dying just like that, it definitely cannot be ignored.

If reasons can be said, there are simply too many! Red silently glanced at his blood red left arm.

Even though this ugly left arm can barely move, but it is as heavy and as hard as lead.

If it’s this—

Red jumps up with all his might.

Twisting his body in his air, he adds a flip.

Then he swings his left arm towards Cosmos’ skull.

He put all the power into his left arm.

He wants to kill him.

With a loud noise, the hard objects collided—

Light shards shine in the air.

“Ah---”

The shining shards attracted Red’s attention, he was shocked.

The person who collapsed was not Cosmos, but Mana.

Mana, who should have gone to the stage, had returned, and even rushed out to protect Cosmos.

“Mana!”

The light shards slowly disappeared on Mana’s head.

“No…you can’t kill him…”

Blood started to flow from Mana’s head.

“You can’t do something that tragic…”

At this time, Mana is still smiling.

His face is now dyed red with blood, with Mana smiling, it’s like he is shedding blood red tears.

“Why…”

He cannot understand.

I need to talk some sense into this bastard.

Even though his dog died, he still can smile so stupidly and even protected the murderer! Red turns angrily towards Mana.

“Why must you be so calm! Why must you protect a bastard like Cosmos!”

Red is sitting on Mana and used his left arm to hit him again.

“Ah…”

For an instant, Mana’s eyes lose his focus.

But he regains his smile quickly.

“Don’t smile! Don’t smile anymore!”

Red hits Mana again. Again and again—

Every time he swings his red arm, light shards will dance around together with the blood flowing out of Mana’s head

He can’t move his hand anymore.

“Thank you…for making my friend so happy…”

That was what he heard.

Why, why, why.

He couldn’t think anymore. He’s just, just saying what he believed in.

His body is getting heavier.

Mana gently placed his hand on Red’s head.

“Allen is…a very lonely dog in the circus. In the beginning…he didn’t know any tricks, and was treated as a burden…at that time, he was probably…very lonely.”

“What, that is…”

Isn’t that just like me—did that dog actually notice?

“After meeting you, Allen was very happy…”

Mana stretched out his hand shakily.

“But, don’t spread the tragedy anymore…”

“Mana…?”

Red watches Mana. “Tragedy…tra,gedy, is…”

Something is not right about him.

Mana is like a broken puppet, with broken speech.

His expression is rather blank.

It felt like something important had broken when he spoke—

Red is trapped by a scary thought—

That’s right, I…used this left hand to hit him many times.

Mana is covered in blood.

His head, unbelievably, is scattered with light shards.

“Red! Stop it right now!”

Hearing the Ringmaster’s voice, Red is jolted back to reality.

Two circus members heard the Ringmaster’s orders. They grabbed him and pulled him away forcefully.

The Ringmaster shouted orders as he left the tent.

“No! Mana! Mana…!”

He keeps his eyes on Mana as he is dragged away.

“Bring him to the animal cage!”

As Red was being bought out, Mana slowly opens his mouth.

“Tra…gedy…”

Followed by laughter.

“Will…attract…the Earl.”

Cheers from the audience could be heard from the stage which should not have been opened yet.

Cosmos, as well as the other performers who had been watching the commotion caused by Red, turned towards the stage.

Continuous clapping and cheering could be heard.

The wind blows the curtains apart and the performers can now see what was happening on stage. There were countless number of audiences and on the stage was a fat gentleman.

Sharp ears, large mouth and wearing a tall silk hat.

“Who is that guy…”

Cosmos takes a step forward.

“The first act should be done by me. I will to chase him out!”

Saying that, he ran out.

The gentleman used a cane adorned with a small pumpkin to tap on the ground, and bowed to the audience once he was done.

Following that, the audience in the stand turned into something short and fat. It looked like something out of this world, and was very terrifying.

“Wahhh!!”

The members screamed.

Mana, who had collapsed backstage, opened his eyes—and saw what was happening.

“Ah…”

The gentleman made eye contact with Mana, who was shaking due to fear, and smiled.

“…Ea,Earl…”

The customers, who had turned into monsters, shot blood bullets one after another.

On one side of the stage, the members collapsed as star shaped bruises appeared on them.

At this time, the red haired priest appeared in the circus tent.

“Che…as I suspected?

The man took out a gun with a intricate design, and said softly.

“Destroy them, Judgment!” ***

The sky had turned dark. After entering the storage, Red was pushed in front of the animal cage.

The two members kept a strong hold on Red, who had no more energy to resist.

From the cage, the sounds of the fierce carnivores can be heard. Not only was it angry from being kept in such a small cage, the commotion also made it more agitated than usual.

The air smells bad, like rotting fish.

If he entered the cage, he’ll be bitten to death for sure.

--Death?

In this sort of place?

Because of that insignificant person?

Then, what was I born for?

Red’s body started moving, partly from anger, as well as fear.

What is my purpose for existing?

Is it only to be killed, just like that?

He hears the cheers coming from the circus.

It is such a faraway reality now.

“Okay, get in!”

The Ringmaster’s cold voice shouts.

Red’s small body was easily thrown into the cage.

It is dark inside the cage.

But he could see the overwhelmingly large silhouette of the beast.

It’s tea coloured fur is swaying.

“Ah--”

Growll---

He hears the low roar from beside him.

--There’s no more hope.

Just as the beast opens it mouth, something breaks the cage and enters. It was a yellow round object, and it seems to have wings as well.

“Rawl!”

The beast let out a cry, and collapses, just like that.

“Wha--”

Red stared at the unbelievable change in events.

What just happened?

He stands up shakily. The thing with the yellow wings chewed through the metal bars, flew around the cage once and exited it.

Red leaves the cage, feeling nervous.

“--!”

The Ringmaster and the two members are on the ground.

Beside them was the red haired priest he had met during the day.

He seemed to be the one who finished them off.

“Why…”

The question is circling around in his mind.

As he approached, he realises that the priest’s breathing is a little irregular.

Why, is he here…

Just as Red is spacing out, he is suddenly punched in the face.

“You stinking brat…!!”

Red falls on the floor but quickly sits up in shock.

Did I do something?

Just as he thought that, he froze.

“--!”

A gun is suddenly pointed at his forehead.

Red breathes in sharply.

The priest approaches him, full of killing intent, Red could smell a lingering smell of cigarette smoke.

It was not like Cosmos, who had an unkind expression, or the Ringmaster, whose gaze held authority. It was really a gaze filled with killing intent.

Killing people, killing, after killing a lot of people, would a person obtain that sort of expression?

The eyes of the priest were filled with blood.

“I told you not to get close to Mana, didn’t I?”

This time, I will really get killed--

Just as he thought that, the priest’s face collided with something. It was a large impact.

It was that yellow thing, it threw the metal bar it was still holding on to.

“Tim!”

--What was that, this is? A living thing? Why would it save me?

“Che!”

The priest glares at Red, and kept the gun.

“I ran out of bullets.”

The reason did not explain anything.

The priest forcefully picks Red up, who had already turned stiff.

“Don’t forget, this is all because of you.”

Saying that, he released his hold roughly.

Red falls on the ground again.

“Disappear.”

He said that with a sigh, and disappears into the darkness together with the yellow thing.

Red could only stare at the darkness.

If I stay here, I will be killed—

He realises that, and runs away quickly.

He can’t stay in the circus anymore.

But he is still concerned about Mana.

What happened after that? He regrets leaving Mana there, this thought is tormenting him.

But Red remembers the priest’s words, but he wants to return to the circus.

What should I do… ***

The next morning, Red, who had wandered on the streets without a goal, returns to the circus without knowing how he got there.

He found the place surrounded by people.

What happened…where’s Mana…?

Red listens quietly to the voices of the people around him.

“Disappeared? That many performers?”

“Yeah, the Ringmaster and some of the other helpers are still around. The others have disappeared in one night. It seems like the performance cannot be held anymore.”

“!”

Red is shocked.

When he was locked inside the animal cage, he could still hear cheers coming from the tent.

I thought, the performers were still performing as usual---

That many members could disappear so quickly?

“And it seems like they didn’t run away. The clothes of the missing members are still around!”

“All the clothes all carry traces of being shot. And there were rumors that they were attacked, but there were no bodies…it really doesn’t make sense!”

“…what, really happened, even though it’s Christmas!”

Red silently left the chatting crowd in order to hide his expression.

His heart is beating very fast.

The missing members.

What happened after I was bought to the animal cage by the Ringmaster and the others?

Did Mana—disappear too?

Who was that red haired priest? Even though he’s a priest—but he still carries a gun, and has the smell of cigarettes on him.

And, he even wanted to kill me…

--don’t forget, it’s all because of you.

The words which the man wearing priest robes said echoed in his mind.

“Ah--!!”

Red shouted.

“Mana!”

Appearing from the crowd was Mana, wearing a rather dirty clown suit.

Just like yesterday, his head and face is covered in blood.

--You’re alright!

Mana took a look at Red and smiled.

“Where have you been , Allen?”

“Eh?”

Red stared at Mana, shocked.

“Mana?”

Allen is the dog’s name. And it was even a dead dog’s—

Mana did not notice Red’s feelings of uneasiness.

“Today is Christmas! Okay, let’s go to a different place!”

“Mana…? What’s wrong? I’m not Allen. Allen is…!”

Mana did not hear any of Red’s cries.

Instead he took Red’s hand and started walking.

“Right, where should we go next?”

“Instead of that, don’t you need to do something about your head wound?”

“Does Allen have a place he wants to go?”

“Mana!” Mana is very strange.

“Mana? Hey, Mana?”

“Hmm—where should we go? Strange, why, am I travelling?”

Mana tilts his head.

Red, hearing this unbelievable statement, froze entirely.

“You said…to look for your little brother…”

“Little brother?”

Mana stops walking all of a sudden.

“What’s that?”

Mana is smiling as usual, Red turned stiff.

--he had forgotten his motive for travel entirely.

Why?

Because I hit him too much?

--Don’t forget, this is all because of you.

The priest’s words hurt Red again.

Don’t tell me…it’s because of me? Because I hit him with this cursed hand many times…?

“I feel that…I’m looking for something really important.”

Mana is still smiling.

This tone of voice is even.

But his whole body is shaking.

He is sad.

Because he had lost his memory.

His hand, which is being held, can feel it.

“You’re looking for your little brother! Your little brother who was separated from you. Didn’t you say it, yesterday!”

Mana did not react. Only one night, and Mana had changed entirely.

Red stares at Mana with a helpless look.

Quietly, something white drifts down.

It’s snow—

From above the two of them, falling quietly, collecting on their bodies.

Snow, which can turn everything white—

“Mana…”

Mana, cannot revert back anymore.

He had this feeling.

Tears fall from Red’s eyes.

Mana stretches out his hand slowly.

“Don’t be sad…if you’re sad, the Earl will come.”

He says with an empty voice as he rubs away Red’s tears.

“Allen is really warm. And, strange? Why have you grown so big? And you don’t have a tail as well.”

He mixed me up with the dog.

Red had to admit while feeling totally hopeless.

Mana…

The person who was destroyed by me.

“Take me with you Mana. I’ll tell you, what you have forgotten…I’ll remember it for you….please. Take me with you…”

This is my reason for living.

Mana…playing in the snowy night with your dog, then going out to the streets with you yesterday, it was the first time I felt “happiness” together with someone else.

So, this time, it’s my turn.

To make you happy.

I will become your Allen. “We’ll be together always, Allen.”

Mana says innocently, these words hurt Red’s heart very much.

“…That’s true, we’ll always be together…”

Then Red and Mana walked towards the snow.

Always, the two of them, together.

This was the day Red, the young boy, became Allen.

Allen’s story will start from now on.

Meeting the priest again, travelling with a golem, becoming an Exorcist—that will be another story. ----------------------------------------------------------END--------------------------------------------------------------------

Afterword Hello everyone, this is Hoshino Katsura. This is the third volume of the awaited novel, the stories have some relation to the main story this time and both these stories were written by Kizaki-san. The one that gave me the most trouble while creating (laugh) is Mana and Allen’s story.

Allen’s past is still a total mystery, and was practically not talked about in the original work, and even the more mysterious Mana makes an appearance…it might be really great to turn it into a novel, I started working on it with such relaxed feelings, but~it was still really hard. Even though the meeting between Mana and Allen is a simple story, but in order to integrate more mysteries related to the original work, this time Kizaki-san suggested for the first time to produce a work with more structure and collaboration. This time, I felt really strongly, that I definitely would not become a novelist… (laugh)

It’s really too difficult to tell a story just using words. I really admire Kizaki-san a lot, she could craft my rough transcript into such a brilliant objective story. After so long, being able to work with Kizaki-san again made me feel so happy. And, to the Fan who is holding the book in your hand right now, I’m very thankful for your support. I work hard for everyone who has read the entire story, I’m happy if I’m able to make you feel some happiness as well. Then, I’ll see you next time.

Hello everyone, this is Kizaki Kaya. This is the third volume of the novel. To the old and new readers, thank you for picking up the book. This time is the story of Roufa as well as Allen and Mana.

Roufa’s story is about a maiden in love, I felt really happy while creating this piece! How should I write about Roufa’s romance next? (Even though I’m still writing the short story, but just asking that will cause my heart to beat faster)—I suggest you wait patiently for the stories in this volume. And Allen and Mana’s story has some connections to Allen and Mana’s story in the original series. In order to write this story, I re-read the original series, and felt some pain when I saw Allen’s smile and determination. I feel fortunate that I am able to show the D.Gray-man world to everyone in this fashion. Lastly, the acknowledgments. Hoshino-san, who has cared for me, thank you very much! Lastly, thank you to all the readers who have read this book. Some day in November 2010 Kizaki Kaya

——————————————END——————————————————————

@jjfole

@sweetestboi

#dgm #d. gray man #reverse novels #lost fragment of snow #lfos #lfs #translation #english #katsura hoshino #written #story #mun #maskedjoker

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wakasagayhime · 6 years

Text

very long, very personal post

tldr, im still not drawing but here’s a detailed account of everything that’s happened in case anyone is confused or misinformed

alright. let me start out by saying i’m not going back to art just yet. it still hurts to do anything art related and i’m still trying to find a way to heal from all of this. i need some kind of professional help first, and i don’t know how long it’ll take afterwards for me to begin feeling like myself again. i don’t even know if i’ll be able to get any kind of professional help at the moment; my university’s counseling center told me, in short, that i’m so mentally ill that their services would not be enough for me and i’d have to look elsewhere (which is reasonable, tbh, they’re almost always completely booked so it’s difficult to actually even talk to someone there in the first place, i only got to talk to them to begin with because i nearly killed myself one night after having the most intense panic attack of my life where i felt like i was actually in the process of dying) and as if that weren’t enough, if you follow me on twitter you’d know that my mom finally left my stepdad, but this means that we no longer really have a home to call our own and are now living with some of my mom’s friends. on the bright side, miso is a lot freer and gets to explore the house as he pleases, but on the downside money is tight and my mom is trying her best to find a place to live while working two jobs and trying to help pay for my tuition. long story short, i want some kind of professional help badly, but all the bullshit that’s been happening in my life makes that difficult.

anyway, i understand that i’ve worried a lot of people through all of this, and i’m sorry. i truly, genuinely am sorry for everything that’s been going on. i blame a lot of it on myself not being strong enough. if i were stronger, i wouldn’t care about some stupid internet trolls, or some random grown man in florida stalking all my social media. if i were stronger, i could take my life back. i wouldn’t feel the need to constantly contemplate suicide, or to torture my own body by starving because of my physical form feeling like the only thing i have left to be in control of. if i had only been stronger, like my old stupidly foolish overconfident 16 year old self who got into fucking STEVEN UNIVERSE DISCOURSE of all things, maybe i wouldn’t care. even when it first happened to me, after the initial shock and hiatus, i was pretty much back to normal almost instantly. but this kind of trauma is sneaky and will gradually eat away at you more and more while you pretend to be ok, and then eventually you reach a breaking point and it’s taken over your life. that’s why i’m still obsessing over that day two years later. that’s why i can’t be left alone on december 13th this year, or else i know for a fact i will harm myself in some way. (don’t worry about that though, burger is going to hang out with me that day and i’ll be fine.) still, even though i keep telling myself my past self was stronger, i do know that she really wasn’t. she was still struggling with depression, anxiety, and self harm issues. maybe it just manifested differently for a while. maybe she felt unstoppable at some point in time because she finally found a girlfriend and got a cat. i got into so many fights that weren’t worth my time or energy at all, and part of me wishes i could be that confident again, but i also know that was my downfall to begin with.

i have followers who haven’t been around for longer than a year or maybe less than two, so i might as well give everyone a true, thorough rundown of what happened leading up to that day, the day of, and after.

i’m sure a lot of you who are worried about me at the moment have seen the recent callout for colboh and his involvement in what happened. i’ll be honest--i don’t know the full extent of his involvement, and i want to believe his foolishness ends at not leaving artists who have blocked him alone and uploading their shit to booru sites when they explicitly state not to. so let’s just start there. i honestly don’t remember if it was before or after i first blocked him, but he uploaded one of my NSFW drawings to danbooru when i first shared my NSFW blog. (PROTIP: if you’re a minor, don’t share your NSFW art with anyone. don’t care if you’re 17, i was about to turn 17 myself. it will bite you in the ass. as such, some of this is my fault.) i quickly contacted danbooru asking them to delete it, and they did--but that artwork subsequently ended up on gelbooru as well, and i was unsuccessful in my efforts to remove my art from there.

fast forward to december 13th, 2016. it was a normal morning. i was getting ready for school, but also being dumb and lazing around in bed browsing tumblr. i saw a post from a blog that shares Funny 4chan Screencaps. my art was in it. the art was of a very muscular yuugi, a drawing i was proud of, especially in how much gay energy i thought it radiated--but this drawing was being used in one of those typical “here’s a touhou, i wanna fuck her! am i right guys? let’s talk about how badly we want to fuck her” threads. seeing my art used for this was appalling. my first mistake was reblogging the post and saying how it was wrong, and how my art shouldn’t ever be used for such a purpose. my second mistake was making a text post AND tweets expressing my disgust at the situation, thinking no one who frequented /jp/ would ever see, sure that it would be a big waste of their time to concern themselves with some random dumb “”sjw”” artist. i also probably shouldn’t have specifically called them “gross neckbeards,” in doing so i absolutely struck a nerve with basement dwellers everywhere. i got to school and during my second period class, suddenly felt a strange urge to look at /jp/. why i did that, i still don’t really know. maybe i was expecting hate. maybe i was trying to see if they used my art for something gross again. i don’t know. either way, that moment changed everything forever. i saw the screencap of my tweets posted for everyone in their circlejerk to see. even worse--i looked in the thread, and someone had also posted the NSFW art colboh had uploaded to danbooru, mocking it and calling me a hypocrite for drawing two girls having sex while also saying i don’t like my art being used for those kinds of threads. this is what truly ignited the amount of hate i saw directed towards me in the threads. i got called a bitch, a drama whore, got told to kill myself, and in one reply etched into my mind forever, someone said something along the lines of “we should all call her local gang and have them rape her, she just needs a good dicking.” there were multiple threads, too; i don’t know how many, but there was another one about me after the first one was deleted, in which someone edited a typical fat balding NTR hentai doujin style man into art i made of kagerou nosebleeding at wakasagihime. more disparaging comments were made. in both threads, people expressed their hatred and dislike of my art, some calling it garbage, some just saying it’s “bad,” etc. some people said the threads were unnecessary and rude, but they were a kind few in a cesspool of violence.

i don’t know who started these threads. i can’t assume anything about anyone, but whoever did this was definitely looking through all my social media out of bitterness and hatred, or perhaps even following me on both my tumblr and twitter considering the timing of the threads immediately after i complained. it eats at me that i most likely will never know who did this to me. i’ll never know who hated me so much that they decided to completely destroy my self esteem. if whoever it is who did all of this is reading this and feels any ounce of remorse, i’m begging them to reveal themselves and why they did it, but i know the chances of that happening are incredibly slim. someone, i can’t remember who, maybe it was queenly, told me they hope someday i reach a point where i don’t have to worry about that because i won’t care in general, but i still don’t know if i’ll ever reach a point where i stop caring about all of this.

like i mentioned earlier, after this all first happened, i was destroyed. the next day, my school’s GSA happened to have a vote for whose art would be on the club t-shirts, mine or someone else’s. mine lost. i broke down completely--anywhere i went, i wasn’t good enough, not for anyone. for days, there was a constant feeling of horror and fear in my chest, something i’ve only ever felt so intensely when one of these threads resurfaces or i suddenly relive my trauma due to other things triggering me. i took a hiatus that lasted a few weeks, i believe i came back sometime before the new year. i thought i was ok, and i pretended like i could go back to being myself. but as time went on, and i continued living with the weight of that day on my back, i became weaker and weaker. i stopped drawing as frequently as i used to. my final year of high school started and i ended up falling into such a deep depression that i constantly skipped school and eventually attempted suicide in november 2017. the suicide note i wrote cites that day as being one of the main things leading me to my decision, telling whoever did this to me that i hoped in my passing they’d have to live knowing what they did to me. my attempt only failed because i swore to take every pill left in the bottle and there were only four pills. had it been full, i’m not really sure what would have happened. i was sent to a mental institute afterwards for a week. being there was the absolute definition of hell. i was alone. i cried myself to sleep every night. they claimed to be a place where people were improved and got help, but i did not get any help at all. they basically imprisoned me for trying to kill myself. when i got out, i was only glad to be alive because i just wanted to be able to talk to my friends, my family, and my girlfriend again. it still shocks me that i was able to graduate from high school considering how much school i skipped before and after my suicide attempt.

sometime before that school year ended, i became extremely upset one afternoon and decided to run away from home. i had what happened to me and what was said about me that day running through my head. i tweeted that i hoped maybe in running away i’d end up being raped like they wanted, like how i deserved. someone who i considered a friend replied to this with, “fuck you.” after all of this was taken care of and i was safe at home, i responded that i was sorry, that i wasn’t thinking right when i made the tweet. she responded that i was, and blocked me. i tried to explain that i said what i did because of the threads about me on /jp/ and the one response threatening rape, but this was disregarded and, seemingly, ignored. a few days later, the former friend in question started sending me anon hate on tumblr, asking me why i want attention so badly, accusing me of making light of actual rape victims by saying such a thing. i explained myself, but to no avail. i blocked her on tumblr, and left it at that. but then, at the end of the school year, when i was proud of myself for finally getting through high school without killing myself or failing or anything, i stumbled upon the second thread. the date the thread was created lined up exactly with the time between me running away from home and me receiving anon hate. she can try to act like she didn’t make the thread all she wants, but i’m not an idiot. the replies were also eerily similar--people in the replies remembered me, a year and a half after the original thread. some replies mentioned me having attempted suicide months before. some mentioned my NSFW art again. i had a massive breakdown and nearly drowned myself in the pond down the road. it was a wet, rainy night, and i sat on a bench by the pond sobbing loudly, trying to find some way to want to keep living. but i couldn’t. i might have gone through with it if it hadn’t been for burger coming and talking to me and giving me a ride home.

entering college, i thought things would be easier. in a way, they are. i have more freedom with classes. this semester, i attended almost all of my classes, almost every day, just with the exception of me being sick some days and me accidentally oversleeping once, and then one day when i just didn’t feel like it. but things continued to get worse for me--i developed an eating disorder for many reasons, one being the time i spent a year prior depressed caused me to gain a significant amount of weight, and the other being i had sworn off self harm in the form of cutting. i found that i was able to get the same gratification from starving myself. at one point, it turned into a game of sorts, where i tried to see how long i could go without eating anything. my record was a little over 72 hours. being constantly hungry or in pain this way felt like something i deserved in a way, but also something to distract me from the pain of realizing i was losing my love for art. i was in denial about it for months. i tried to keep drawing, but everything i drew upset me, saddened me, and even angered me. i looked at anything i made and only felt disgust. it was the one thing i used to love doing more than anything, and now i only felt shame.

in november, i acknowledged this and decided to quit for good. recently, i discovered colboh had uploaded more of my NSFW art to gelbooru, even though i specifically stated on my blog to never upload my NSFW art to image sharing sites, specifically right after he uploaded my art the first time. by the time i found this, i had already sworn off art for good, but looking at the comments on my art on gelbooru (and rule 34--i guess they’re connected upload-wise like danbooru?) filled me with so much sadness and shame, not because they criticized my art, but because they said horrible things about my depiction of kagerou. for those who don’t know, i headcanon kagerou as a trans woman, and one thing i do not regret about my time as an artist is how that depiction has helped numerous trans women feel good about themselves and their bodies. seeing so many disgusting comments deliberately misgendering her and making other transphobic remarks hurt me on a completely new level. my trans friends have been such a source of strength for me through all of this and seeing that made me feel disgusted, especially with myself. i felt like i had failed them. i had made so many trans women happy, only to see a man i blocked two years ago had uploaded my art to porn sites, tagging it with dehumanizing words like “f*ta” that i specifically tell people never to refer to my art with, displaying that art for the exact same crowds of people that ruined everything december 13th 2016 to continue to pick apart. one comment even told me to kill myself, effectively bringing back every memory of that day.

speaking of that, another thing i want to touch on now that i’m up to speed with the details of everything that’s happened related to the original threads two years ago, is kagerou. i’m positive you all know that i really love kagerou imaizumi, and that she’s my favorite touhou character. it’s embarrassing to say, but she’s brought me so much comfort through all of this. sometimes if i’m sad, i’ll imagine her giving me a big hug, or i’ll look at cute pictures i have saved of her, or something along those lines. it’s pretty cringy for a fictional character to make me happy, i know, but i’ve grown so attached to her and she really means a lot to me. and another thing that made me want to swear off art is because she’s loved by so many others that i don’t think my depictions of her do her any good. i’m constantly compared to other artists, and it’s never good. even in the threads, i’m told i should be more like those other artists and these things wouldn’t happen to me. i am not allowed to love kagerou imaizumi. i draw her as a hairy trans lesbian, and that disgusts people. hell, the fact that i draw lesbians in general disgusts people, which sure fucking sucks because i constantly hate myself for not being attracted to men and being able to draw happy lesbians made me feel better about myself. but i’ve ruined kagerou for so many people, especially with my stupid kagewaka bullshit. maybe that’s why those artists unfollowed me. maybe it’s a combination of that and my constant breakdowns becoming far too annoying. i think all the popular artists who used to like me and then unfollowed/softblocked me are really glad to see that i’ve given up. and that’s something else that saddens me too--even as an artist, in my own community of touhou artists, i often feel like i’m lesser, and that i don’t belong. maybe it’s because i’m so foolishly outspoken about my opinions that they dislike me. maybe it’s because i’m a woman, and a lesbian at that. i don’t really know why they hate me so much. i wish i could belong somewhere.

and i think that’s what it all boils down to in the end. i’ve lost all sense of belonging. when i was 14 and people started noticing my art for the first time, i finally felt like i had something. like i belonged somewhere. after being bullied through middle school and having to deal with abusive friends and an abusive dad, it meant the world to me that i finally had something. but it didn’t last long at all. it all came crashing down, not just because of others, but because of me. i was the one who was cocky, getting into fights that weren’t worth it. i was the one who provoked people and made them hate me. i was the one who complained about /jp/ posting my art in their threads. i know people want to believe that i’m a saint, but i’m not. i have myself to blame too. i at least want everyone to understand this, above all else. there was so much i could have done differently to prevent this all from happening, but i didn’t. i was stupid and naive. i was a massive fucking idiot, and now look where i am. i lost everything. i thought i had friends, i lost them. i thought i loved art, i lost that. i thought other really talented nice people liked me, i even lost that. all i have now is an empty shell of my former self. i don’t know what to do with it. i don’t know how i’m going to rebuild myself. it’s so painful to have to keep living like this. i don’t know if there’s any fixing me at this point. i’ve lost so much, i feel permanently broken.

but despite all of that, despite everything i’ve been through, i still receive so much love and support from my followers and friends and it means so much to me. it means the world to me and has kept me going through all of this. knowing that people care about me and want to see me get better and improve makes me want to try to fix myself even if i am broken beyond repair. i just want to thank you all for being that source of strength for me. these past few years have been so hard for me and time and time again i still get love and encouragement from so many people. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. there is nothing more precious to me than those moments when i feel like i do truly belong, when i feel loved, when i feel like i’m not alone after all. for those moments, i’ll keep trying. even if these threads keep continuing and breaking me further, i’ll keep trying. even if every last artist in this fandom comes to hate me and my shitty art, i’ll keep trying. it’s still painful to draw right now and i have a long way to go before i can share art with anyone again, but for you all, i’m going to keep trying my best. at the end of the day, i know everyone’s encouragement and love is worth far more than hate threads urging me to kill myself.

i’m sorry how long and personal and unnecessary this is, but i felt like i had to set things straight. if you read all of this, i applaud you. if you just kinda skimmed through to read the last paragraph, i also appreciate it. again, thank you.

#glub glub #suicide //#self harm //#disordered eating //#rape //

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huckleberrysaywhen-blog · 6 years

Text

“Pick Your Poison”

Featuring Lucy, Gabe, and Quinn

“What are we gonna do with him?” Muttered a typically excited, happy voice that was now low and rumbly with confusion. American, male, and definitely rather young.

“I do not know. Perhaps we may send him to Lucille.” Said the second voice, softer and much more dainty. It was also male, although donning a much more British-English type of speaking, watered down as if he had spent too much time with the Americans.

The partners were both standing above a man’s unconscious body, splayed out ungracefully by their feet. He seemed to be stretched out like a trapeze artist reaching for his next checkpoint. He was fair-skinned, with a head of long, messy blonde hair, and eyes that were half-closed and glazed over in his unwanted slumber. His clothing was very ripped and it was now difficult to tell what he had been wearing.

The American accent rose up again, more panicked and stressed. “I don’t know, Gabe, maybe this was a mistake. Maybe we should’ve stayed in the underworld. This dude didn’t haf’ta die.”

Presumably, the Englishman named Gabe turned his head in the shadows to see the American. “Since when have you doubted me, my love? Since when have you become so feeble?” His voice was low and soft, purring the words that rolled off his tongue as smooth as velvet.

The American nervously shifted to face him. They were both drowned out in darkness, but it could hardly be made out that they were in the shadows of an alleyway. The disturbing drips of an unknown liquid rapped quietly on the asphalt below them. The stench of the dumpsters floated around them like a thick woman’s perfume, and the bustle of the city life outside them seemed to fade away when he stared up at Gabe.

“Oh, Gabe, I don’t know, maybe since this guy’s friends tried hunting us. The humans have always been stupid! They’ve never really believed in us, and the ones that did, we killed! But this guy, he-- he had an army, Gabe, he could kill us, he could kill you...” His voice faded toward the end of his sentence, strained and thick with worry. He reached out and set his hand on top of Gabe’s, gripping his fingers tightly.

Their fingers intertwined like vines, knuckles turning white from the heavy hold they had on each other. Gabe’s voice was low and soft, as he took a step closer. “Please, my love, do not fret. They’re nothing different from the other stupid mortals. We can kill them as easily as we did the others. And, before you protest...” He leaned down, nose to nose with the American boy who was much shorter than him. “Although you dislike Lucille, he disposes of bodies quite well.”

Gabe’s partner’s breath caught in his throat at the closeness of his warm companion. In the dim light, he stared up at Gabe’s bright amber eyes, glittering a fierce yellow. He admired the pupils that were slit vertically like a cat’s. He couldn’t resist letting his eyes wander across his partner’s face; perfectly shaped, angular yet soft with curves...

“Quinn, I am flattered, but focus on the matter at hand. Help me tie up this man and get him to Lucille.” Gabe muttered, nose brushing Quinn’s cheek as his head turned away. Although it was a soft touch, hardly there, Quinn’s body was racked with a shudder.

“O-oh, okay.” He stammered out, helplessly turning after Gabe, who had stepped closer to the unconscious body once more. He dumbly stared at Gabe, his mind foggy with matters that would have to be tended to much later.

Gabe arched over, the lights from the nearby market illuminating him for a split second. He was pale-skinned, a muscular form that was rather broad-shouldered and overall large, even as a silhouette. He had a head full of dark, thick hair; presumably a dark brown or black. He had a dainty nose, upturned slightly, and pouty pink lips. Quinn often commented he looked “handcrafted with love.”

“I do suppose we can take him back to the castle--” Gabe began, crouching down over the body and rolling him onto his side, beginning to draw his limbs together to bind them. However, he was cut off by a very heavy German accent, still throaty and hissing as if it were born in the heart of the Fatherland.

“Well, Gabriel! Quinn! How nice to see you! Oh, and I see you have our friend here, the little besserwisser.” The words seemed to uncomfortably shove and rattle against each other as they tumbled past the thin, faint lips of the German that was now standing at the entrance of the alleyway.

Quinn exhaled sharply, swinging his head downward and covering his face. “Oh, kill me now.”

Light from the market street dappled Quinn in such a position, revealing the beauty of the boy. He had skin that was sun-kissed and mottled with freckles absolutely everywhere, and a large beauty mark beside his left eye on his upper cheekbone. His hair was thin and wispy, but silky soft. It, strangely, was black at the roots and faded into shades of gray and silver until it was snow white at the tips. It was long and untamed, slightly curly at the tips.

Amongst his beauty, were the set of peculiar objects amongst his spine. They weren’t completely visible until he turned to aggressively face the German, in an attack stance. He looked like a gray wolf alpha, baring his teeth and bristling his spine to protect his young. A look of sheer vengeance and natural-born hate searing in his breast.

He had wings. A beautiful, large set of wings upon his back. They were extremely large, a wingspan that could easily wrap two average-sized humans comfortably. The light dappled them a mangy, dirty yellow, swamping their beauty, yet it was clear that they were silver on the undersides and solid black on the topsides. The beauties had the traditional upside down “V” at the bone’s bend, and the typical shine of a vulture’s wings.

“Ahh, ah, calm your mutt, why don’t you, Gabriel?” The German laughed, high and maniacal at the sight of Quinn’s glare that was shooting daggers. His fists flexed at his sides, lips peeled back in a disgusted expression. His gray eyes were turned silver, burning hatred, pupils dilated completely.

Gabriel cocked his head upward from where he crouched over the collapsed body. “Well, hallo, Lucille.Lendmeahandwiththisbody,andwecansettleyourdifferencesatthecastle, yes?” He offered, as he slid his hands underneath the body’s armpits. Gabe heaved upward as if carrying a toddler, holding it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Lucille was well-hidden in the shadows of the alleyway entrance, about twenty paces away from the boys. However, it was undeniably him, due to the revealing accent and schoolgirl giggle that Quinn despised.

“Slut bastard.” Quinn spat, hissing like a feline. If he were, his spine would be bristling, tail puffed completely. Instead, his wings kept twitching and rustling, fingers flexing. He was visibly itching to attack Lucille.

“Oh, relax, der Schatz, you just go back to being Gabriel’s lapdog. Do not be jealous of what you will never be.” Lucille cackled, head tipping back slightly. His eyes flashed a glint in the darkness, a wisp of scarlet red.

Quinn stepped forward, aggressively. “Oh, you take that back, Lucy, you bastard--” He fully intended to bash the German’s perfect face into a pulp.

But something stopped him. He hesitated, looking down to see Gabe’s free arm pressed against his chest.

“No.” Was all Gabriel said, his eyes slowly settling on Quinn’s face. They were burning with the authoritative power of a king. Well, Gabriel was a king. And although lovers, Quinn was his immortal servant nonetheless.

Quinn’s head ducked. He backed away a few paces, stumbling over his own feet. His silver gaze was averted away, hands coming to touch his throat and chest, nervously. He acted like that of a submissive dog, or wolf; even licking his lips to silently beg for forgiveness. He cringed at the sound of Gabriel’s boots hitting the asphalt in rhythm, beginning to walk away.

Lucille thought this was extremely funny. Quinn, however, did not, but could not come to his senses to beat some sense into the German for disrespecting him with laughter.

“Let’s go, boys.” Gabe purred, low and commanding. He began to walk out of the alley with the body limply swinging over his shoulder, one heavy arm wrapped around it’s hips to secure it to his person.

Quinn and Lucille exchanged a glance before following after. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing.

After a struggle of getting back to the hell castle in the underworld with an added body, the boys were sitting in the second tea room, sharing a kettle of mint tea. The castle was extravagant; three whole stories. It belonged entirely to Gabriel and Quinn, and rarely Lucille spent an evening.

The second tea room was small; hosting a red velvet sofa with golden embroideries and a golden frame, very Victorian. It had a matching armchair that Lucille lazed across, and a small Italian coffee table that was solid glass, including the legs. The walls were littered with old photos of people; some including Gabriel, some including a white-haired man, some including a large creature with terrifying red eyes and large goat horns protruding from his forehead. Mysterious folk.

Amongst the photographs, there was red-and-gold wallpaper, as well as many bookshelves pressed against the walls. Instead of containing books, they seemed to contain handmade ledgers, leatherback mostly, with scribbled, messy labels on the spines. A large glass and marble chandelier hung from the ceiling, lighting the room with gold.

Gabriel delicately handled the china, that was white with navy blue patterns and trim, pouring more steaming mint tea into Quinn’s teacup. Quinn wasn’t big on tea at all, he’d rather down a bottle of Kentucky bourbon, but Gabe forced his lover to learn tea manners.

“Thank you, again, Lucille, for all the help.” Gabe said, sincerely. His amber gaze flicked up to the German, briefly. He set down the china teapot beside the larger hot water kettle in case they wanted more. His palms set on his trousers, smoothing the wrinkles in the thighs.

Gabriel dressed quite handsomely; typically in three-piece suits, but at the least, velvet black trousers and a white French dress shirt, tucked in. On this particular occasion, he donned a black three-piece with a white undershirt and a dark red bowtie nestled under his chin. It had been difficult to see, in the dark alleyway, but was now beautifully illuminated.

Lucille flashed a grin. He, like Gabriel, dressed handsomely, and was just as beautiful. He had a head full of raven-black hair, long and untamed in his face. It framed his eyes that were a bright scarlet, with flecks of remaining brown in the centre near his dilated pupil. He had a constellation of freckles draping his nose and high, protruding cheekbones; pale, soft skin clinging to dainty bones and the curves of his feminine body. His height to weight ratio was off; he was very slender and thin, narrow-bodied and the smallest of the trio, as well as the shortest.

Typically, Lucy was found wearing the same outfit every day. It was a priest’s jacket that had been modified to drape floor-length, similar to a trench coat, but it was split in the front and back up to the waist like a riding duster. It was solid black, and buttoned up completely. Underneath his modified coat, he had a pair of black shorts that were shaped like women’s underwear. He also had fishnet stockings that gartered to the shorts. His boots were black and leather, settling just above his knee, and showing off a four-inch heel.

As well as his promiscuous outfit, Lucy had a range of jewelry. Black earrings draping across his cartilage and two black studs in his earlobes, as well as a silver chain around his neck that had a sterling silver charm of an upside down cross. Usually, he wore a scarlet neckerchief, as well as a white knit scarf around his neck.

Not to mention, the German painted his long, claw-like nails black, and often wore a cat-eye liner above his slitted, lazy red eyes.

Gabriel called him his “little incubus.” It wasn’t far off from what Lucille was.

In hilarious contrast, Quinn usually wore hoodies and jeans. Casual, and human-like. Although, he did have to cut holes in the shoulders of the hoodies and t-shirts so he could fit his wings through.

“Well, I believe we should go check on our friend, ja? ” Lucille said, standing up from where he’d been prowling on his armchair like a male lion. He dusted his coat off, re-wrapping his scarf around his neck.

Quinn eagerly set down his teacup. Despite hating Lucille and his ideas, he’d do about anything to avoid having tea time. “Yeah, I think so. Who is this bastard, again?” Quinn asked, slowly standing up and raising his arms above his head to stretch. His wings twitched in response to the muscles flexing.

Gabriel nudged all the china closer together for easy cleanup later. He rose to his feet as well, staring down at his subjects.

“He is a half breed like you, my dear. However, he is a mix between demon and human. Access to the underworld, yes, but still suffers a few side-effects. Worse than you, though.” Gabe said, as he snaked his left arm around Quinn’s waist. His warm palm settled on his hip, their sides flush together.

Quinn sheepishly nosed into his lover’s shoulder, willingly pressing against him.

Lucille snorted a high-pitched giggle. “Ah, thank god we don’t have another fallen angel on our hands. I think der unser Freund hier is enough.”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed. His eyes always narrowed before he was about to speak something vile, or eat someone alive. “Shut up with the foreign language, Lucy. You know I can understand German, right? And your stupid Latin, and French, and Greek... The list goes on. You’re just a slutty little asshole who thinks he’s great, just ‘cause he managed to get in cahoots with the king of hell. Now, in my opinion--”

Quinn would have kept going, but Gabriel squeezed his hip and dug his nails into his side, causing the wretch to yelp in pain and grip his wrist.

Lucille didn’t seem all that hurt, just snickering his amusement at Quinn’s punishment. “Let’s go see the half breed then, Liebling.” He purred, in that same low, spine-quivering tone of voice Gabriel used. His harsh, throaty accent made it much less attractive, but nonetheless caught the fallen angel’s attention.

Lucy waved his arm, starting to stalk out of the second tea room toward a staircase leading to the basement. They were on the first floor, with one above them; and the holding cells below them.

Lucy trotted down the concrete steps, heels clicking loudly. Gabriel and Quinn followed after, still glued to each other’s hips, padding much more quietly downward.

The underground holding cells contained three metal bar cells on each side of the hallway, with a total of six open slots. There was a large metal door at the end of the hallway, with a variety of locks on it, for dangerous animals that needed to be held. The walls were a mix of concrete, diorite, and a solid form of mercury. Very difficult to escape from. The metal bars were, of course, a mix of various metals and silver, to ward off creatures that were weak to it. It was dim and musky, and smelled strongly of sweat and blood.

Each cell contained a small bed. And that was about it. Only one of the cells was occupied; by the half breed they had captured earlier. And boy, was he pissed. He was awake, and raging.

His claws had dug into the walls, trying to rip holes in them; adding to pre-existing claw marks. His head swung around, staring with sheer hatred at the trio that stepped down the stairs. His voice rose in a high-pitched screech, like that of a hawk or eagle. It was deafening, and made Quinn flinch and cover his much more sensitive ears.

Lucille and Gabriel stared back, unfazed. Gabriel snickered quietly, looking downward and shaking his head. “My, oh my, you poor creature.” He said, softly. Gabe stepped closer to the cell, peering through the bars with his hands in his pockets. His shadow enveloped the half breed completely. What a size difference.

“I’d love to cut you into a fillet and feed you to the hellhounds.” He said, lips twitching up slightly at the corner. His eyes bore into the half breed with malicious thoughts, staring right through him.

The creature in the cell quivered slightly, jerking his blue gaze away. Instead, he glared at Lucille, baring his teeth like a dog.

Lucy giggled, high and insane. He stepped beside Gabriel, meeting the fearless blue gaze with authority. “Oh, Gabriel, I’d like to shove objects down his throat until he suffocates!”

He cried out a little with joy at the thought, flashing his insane grin. His white teeth glinted in the dim light, sharp canines whispering “we want your flesh” to the half breed.

Quinn crept closer to Gabe, shaking his head to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. “I’d like to beat the shit outta him, ‘till he’s begging for mercy, and then I wanna cut out that stupid tongue’a his.” The American accent and slang really came flowing out of Quinn during that sentence, with a faint drawl to his tongue-tip.

Gabriel laughed slightly, quietly. A rare sound. He peered down at the now intimidated prisoner, flashing a smile with rows of shark-like teeth, all triangular and pointed. With promise in his voice, he murmured, “Pick your poison.”

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