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spectrumed · 3 years ago

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1. piano

The brain is a musical instrument. How it sounds all depends on who is playing it. The keys, the strings, the tubes, the circuits, none of them make noise on their own. Some may argue (some very aggressively) that every instrument has one exact way that it should be played. That there is one correct way to play the piano, and then there’s several incorrect (deviant!) ways to play the piano. But a classically trained pianist will not play the piano in quite the same way as a self-taught jazz pianist will play the piano. Sure, the latter does employ some stylings unique to them. They have an idiosyncratic way of playing that makes their sound highly notable, possibly even sought after. While the former, the classically trained musician, they’ve been taught to minimise many of those quirky individual traits that could, potentially, distract from the classical compositions that they will be playing. In jazz, music is carried by unique characters and a strong sense of individualism. In classical, music is carried by tradition, norm, and history.

It should not be understood that the classically trained musician plays without soul or passion. While we, in the western world, have become more and more infatuated with the idea of the self-made artist, the amateur who makes their way to success and stardom solely through will, and quite often a manic compulsion to create, there is no wrong way to play an instrument. However you make it work, whatever sounds you are able to produce, you are playing that instrument. You are channeling your inner essence into the music you are performing, no matter what genre you belong to. No-one plays their instrument the exact same way, for certain, but everyone is playing with what they’ve got.

How do you think? You’re used to being asked “what do you think?” But how do you think? Do you see pictures in your head? Do you experience an inner monologue? Are you riddled with anxiety? Have you ever hallucinated? Do you think that you think good, or do you think that you think bad? If we return to our metaphor of the brain as a musical instrument, what sort of music do you think you’d play? Sure, there’s the classical world, and the jazz world, but of course, that’s hardly the music most people will listen to nowadays. Do you think in pop songs? Or do you think in big heavy metal epics? Or maybe what you are is a maniac for dance music. You may find like-minded friends who like the same kind of music as you do. I think that there is a correlation between what music we like and how we perceive the world. Does listening to a certain song send you back? Does a certain tune evoke memories that you may have thought were long since gone? I know that there are some folks out there who say that they do not care much for music, and while I don’t doubt that they absolutely do feel that way, I can personally not imagine where I’d be without my trusty set of headphones and my phone loaded up with a wide library of music I like. It seems to me that music is primal. Almost as if only by understanding music, can one come to understand consciousness. To nab a song title from Jethro Tull (the band, not the agriculturalist,) life is a long song.

But I do admit that I come from a biased perspective. Music means much to me. I’m no musician, but I think that partly stems from a desire to not see “how the sausage is made.” I’d like to be able to listen to a composition without feeling compelled to analyse it, or to study it. I’d rather eat the sausage without having to wonder what bits of the animals this meat came from. Is that the taste of a spleen or a testicle? There are plenty of other things in life to dissect and tear apart just to examine. Perhaps what I wish is to maintain an arcane approach to music. Perhaps I am too enamoured by the idea of the musician as a mystic able to tap into an elevated state of being, some spiritual realm divorced from our own. That look on the guitarist’s face when they successfully manages to convey just the right emotional tone perfectly with that solo. The frisson you feel when the song reaches its climax. That thing we call the sublime. To explain it, well, it simply feels like you are making something splendid mundane. It seems to rob it of its power. Or… Well, maybe that’s not it all. Maybe all I want is just a moment or two when I can relax and avoid thinking about things. For a moment, I’d just like to forget that I’m a person.

The world is so loud. Really, I can guarantee you that if you didn’t have those natural mental filters that we all have, you’d go insane. Every little sound. Every little bit of stimuli. It would all overwhelm you. It would burrow deep into your consciousness, and it would refuse to leave. Ever tried to fall asleep while hearing the dripping water from a leaky tap? Drip, drip, drip. Know how impossible that feels? Well, imagine if you had that feeling always, imagine if all noise felt that visceral and in-your-face. Lucky you’ve got those filters. Turns out, not everyone has them. I don’t. It fucking sucks.

Music is lovely, because music is organised. It has structure. You can listen to a song, remember it, and then follow along as you’re listening to it a second time. Music follows a pattern. There is a logic to patterns. But the everyday noises that surround us do not follow a pattern. Let me tell you, birds are infuriating animals. Sure, their individual little songs can be nice to listen to, but when all the birds of the forest come together, they don’t perform as an orchestra. No, they’re all just doing their own solo piece, completely oblivious to the sounds going on around them. I’m thinking that nature could have done well with a conductor. Someone competent to create order. To make it all just that bit more peaceful. I don’t have those filters others take for granted. I can’t ignore sounds. And that makes the world feel so loud.

It is neat to imagine the human brain as a musical instrument. You can imagine that seasoned player, that old session stalwart who’s played on all the most famous pop hits throughout the decades, and you want to imagine them playing with grace and finesse and showcasing all the amazing sounds that the instrument can produce. But the brain isn’t really some marvel of biological engineering. It’s not intelligently designed. It’s actually just a piece of meat hiding underneath layers of bone, skin, and hair. It’s a complex bit of meat, admittedly. It’s hard to understand exactly how the brain does work. But if you were to open up a person’s cranium, rather than feeling awe, you’d most likely feel grossed out. This thing that we’re supposed to think of as a miraculous product of millennia of evolutionary progress, it looks… Well, it looks awfully pinkish, and wrinkly, and frankly unpleasant.

We’re all mortal beings, made from squishy flesh and blood, scraped together from all that was available at the time. Sure, we may dream and fantasise about one day achieving those heights we aspire towards, to become that perfect superman, whose cognitive abilities put them on par with the mythological titans of the past. But really, we’re all just trying to do our best with what we’ve got. You may not be able to play the finest of Mozart’s many symphonies, the instrument that you’ve been given just simply isn’t up to snuff. Even if all you can play is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, that shouldn’t weigh on your value as a human being. And besides, that’s still Mozart you’re playing.

I will undoubtedly get back to discussing music in later instalments of this blog. It is truly a major part of my world, and without the joys I associate with it, I would be in a far worse place. But I think that, ultimately, what I wish to arrive at, is the fact that our sensory perceptions have a significant impact on how we piece together our sense of self. While it may be an unnerving thought to consider, what would happen to our understanding of ourselves if we one day were to lose one of our major senses? I am sure that many people could go without their sense of smell. Humans have long since abandoned smell as a dominant sense. To a dog, on the other hand, to lose its sense of smell would be devastating. It would lose part of what it means to be a dog. For humans, we enjoy the scent of freshly baked bread, the whiff of somebody’s perfume, or the bouquet of some pricey bottle of wine. But that’s nothing to what dogs get out of their sense of smell. To a dog, its sense of smell is its world. Is a dog even a dog if it can’t sniff around? Do you think dogs ever take their sense of smell for granted?

I do not think that humans are what we eat, but I suspect that we may be what we perceive. Our consciousness does not exist independently of the world that surrounds it, but rather, it is formed by the outside stimuli it receives on a constant basis. The fury of noises, lights, smells, all kinds of impressions, it shapes you. It is what our memories are built on. I am not at all certain that there exists anything more to the mind beyond that. I doubt that we’ve got some immutable soul hidden underneath it all. Humans are the collection of thoughts and ideas that we’ve attached ourselves to throughout our lives, and naturally, if you’re neurodivergent, that process is going to happen differently to most. At times those differences will be large enough that it can create real conflicts with those others around you. Effectively, to be neurodivergent is to suffer constantly from culture shocks. To me, it is natural to loathe the cacophony of birds in the summer. Their screams feel like piercing needles embedding themselves into my skin. But I try telling that to others, and I’ve yet to find anybody who agrees with me.

So, am I just wrong? Am I mistaken? Am I a freak? Why can’t I just be like everybody else? Why must I be such a buzzkill? I can’t even enjoy birdsong, I really must be a pain to be around. How did it come about that I just can’t be normal? Normal. I want to be normal. It is and it will likely always be grossly underrated to just be normal. Normal people don’t know how good they have it. They’re just too normal to be able to perceive it. When you’ve never been without it, you don’t know what it is to miss it. Normalcy. Having a normal brain. Having others see you as a normal person. Only if you didn’t have it, would you know how great it is. Do you sometimes wonder if dogs know how much they’d miss their sense of smell if they ever were to lose it?

Then again, there is no such thing as normal, is there? If you were to take the world’s most average person, then that person would be abnormal. To be a person is to be unique. We’re all special snowflakes. Aren’t we?

You may not play your instrument in a conventional manner, but who’s to say what manner counts as conventional? It’s all just so arbitrary. Who’s to say you can’t play an acoustic guitar as a drum? Who’s to say you can’t treat your piano as a percussion instrument? Smack your cello with a flute, if you’d like. Isn’t it just delightful when you see a unique performer who is able to play their instrument in a way you could never before have conceived it being played? The novelty of it all. The absolute joy of being exposed to something different. Of seeing something that can barely be believed. You love things that are unusual, and you think people who are different should delight in being different. Surely, it is better than being normal and boring?

But is it all that bad to be boring? And you may love what’s different, but when it comes down to it, despite your positive inclination, you still perceive it as being the other. It is not you. It is not mainstream, it is underground. Secluded. Deviant. Those who truly do struggle to fit in with society, to be just like everybody else, they are constantly faced with these little reminders that they just don’t belong. They are humans (at least they think they are humans,) but they’re not like other humans they know. For as much as they get told that they should embrace their quirky nature as simply being who they are, it is hard to know what it is like to be not normal, when all you’ve ever been is normal. Sure, for a performance or two, it’s fun. It’s fun to get the attention, to be seen as having something others don’t have. But then, at the end of the day, all you want is to be able to fall asleep, without the birdsong outside your window keeping you awake.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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defensefilms · 4 years ago

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Defense Films Names His Top 5 Favorite Rappers

In All It’s Infinite Glory And Magnanimity, Defense Gives You His Top 5 Favorite Rappers.

5. 50 Cent

To this day, when you need a playlist for a MMA class and the group is hella diverse, you’re not really sure which way to go with it, pop in that 50. Can’t go wrong with Get Rich Or Die Trying (the original), or even that G-Unit Beg For Mercy.

That run from late 2002-2005/06 was unlike anything you’ll ever see again. That was a perfect situation where there was organic support from fans and there were people at a business level, mainly 50, that knew how to turn it into the wave that it became and industry has been trying to replicate this ever since.

While most people remember is the numerous scandals, beefs and controversies of that time but it was the music that moved the audience. For all the ways 50 Cent’s success mirrors ruthless American capitalism, his debut album is low key one of the most inspiring albums you’ll ever listen to.

It’s a foxhole mentality on wax. It’s me-versus-you type thinking. It’s someone has to lose and I’ll be damned. It’s who ever has to get hit, is gonna get hit.

See the first time I listened to it, it was about “In Da Club”, “Wanksta”, you know the more palatable records that got on radio and all that but the more I listened the more I realized, it was actually built on the backs of songs like “Patiently Waiting”, “Many Men”, “Back Down”, “Don’t Push Me” and “Gotta Make It To Heaven”. On one side it’s as motivational as you can think of but it’s not the wacky kind of naivé motivational talk because it’s willing to get it’s hands dirty and go in to much grittier ideas.

Like his predecessors, 50 pulls off the trick of balancing easy-to-listen-to records on a foundation of graphic and aggressive songs.

Recommended Songs: Maybe We Crazy, When It Rains It Pours

4. Jedi Mind Tricks

I’ll give you props if you know who these man are but they are legends. Point blank. Violent By Design will forever rank as one of the great group albums in hip-hop history. Vinny Paz, Jus Allah and producer/DJ Stoupe The Enemy of Mankind, gave hip-hop a shockwave they weren’t ready for, especially back in 1999.

Hip-hop as a business wasn’t ready to market a group, whose themes were rooted in topics like government control, military warfare, covert control tactics, religion and psychological warfare. To have all that in one bundle wasn’t something that big time A&R’s were ready for.

Had they started this group in 2010, they would have walked in to a business landscape that was far more suitable to who they were as an act and as MC’s.

Even with that JMT still enjoyed a lot of notoriety and they definitely succeeded in establishing their following, despite the odds.

While Violent By Design may serve as the magnum opus of their body of work, their run really starts in 1997 with the Psycho-Social, Biological & Electro-Magnetic Manipulation Of Human Kind.

Yes guy, that’s an album title. You gotta think now, I was in high school the first time I heard this and I was very into conspiracy theories and nonsense, so this album hit me right between the eyes. The idea that someone could use the medium of hip-hop in this way was crazy and the album would have been more than 10 years old when I first heard it.

No, the hip-hop historians among us will argue that Wu-Tang were a better and more influential group and I’d tend to agree, I can also bust back and say, “these dudes took Wu-Tang’s formula and gave it a whole different edge.”

I’ll break it to you like this, Wu-Tang gave the world swordsmanship and the first projectile weapons like bow and arrows, spears and the likes. Jedi Mind Tricks gave the world gun powder, advanced modern explosives and semi-automatics. You see what I mean?

Recommended Songs: Untitled, Retaliation Remix

3. Jay-Z

No top rappers list is complete without my man. The only reason he ain’t higher is because, I rate a rapper more highly if they’re in the prime of their musical abilities. If this were an all-time list he’d be way way higher.

Beginning with Reasonable Doubt is really the only place to start when it comes to Jay. The production, the skits, the way every sentence was so tightly wound together, the word selection and sentence construction. It’s remembered as an album of hits because of tracks like “Cant Knock The Hustle”, ”Feelin It” and “Brooklyn’s Finest” but Reasonable Doubt was really defined by “Dead Presidents”, “D’evils”, “Politics As Usual” and “Can I Live”.

The first batch of songs gave the album some relatability, as far as depicting club vibes and nightlife glamour because that second batch of songs were all built on darker themes like betrayal, jealousy, greed, blind ambition and deception. That combination of themes as well as the production to match each one is why that album will always rank high among a certain listenership.

With that being said, never make the mistake of thinking Jay or any man is perfect. There’s like a 3 album run where there’s moments of dope-ness but not a truly complete album.

Still with that, songs like “Imaginary Player” and “Where I’m From” will rank among his best songs.

It’s only when you get to The Blueprint can you start to see Jay perfecting the art of crafting, whole, complete albums that bump from start to finish. The Blueprint was near perfection in this regard. “U Don’t Know”, “Heart Of The City” and “Momma Loves Me” will rank as his best efforts and yeah, I skipped a few.

The Black Album replicated the Blueprint’s listenability, while also dealing in topics that created an album that sounded very personal to Jay.

All told, the best parts of his catalogue are so strong that there is no denying his place on my list.

Recommended Songs: Dead Presidents, I Love The Dough

2. Action Bronson

I cannot for the life of me fathom how this man doesn’t get the love but the real ones know.

The mixtape download era (2010-2017 give or take), had many unlikely success stories. An overweight white guy, who grew up cooking in his parents deli/eatery, turned pro-chef then turned rapper, is beyond unlikely. Only the internet could allow this man to succeed and thank the hip-hop gods it did.

From 2012 to about 2018, Action was one of the only constants in my playlist. I still remember where I was the first time I heard “Brunch”. His catalogue starting with the Tommy Mas produced, Dr Lecter and boasting full collaborations albums along side Statik Selektah and the Alchemist, and of course the classic Blue Chips series. This man’s prime will be underrated.

If you’re going to take one chapter of Bronson’s art and study it, it’s going to be Blue Chips 1 and 2. Both are thematically perfect without ever trying to be. Which is what allowed Party Supplies to make production choices that grabbed you from the jump. From the first time you hit play on the opening of Blue Chips 1, you’re hit with the sound of falling shards of glass and a violin sound that makes the opening song un-skippable. The songs themes are also a perfect introduction to the man himself. Debauchery, expensive taste, hedonism, revelry, unabashed pleasure-seeking, drug use and just enough self-depreciation that you felt you were along for the ride rather than just a fly on the wall, turning your nose in disgust. It was a perfect mixtape, at a time when mixtapes were at a crazy dumb high standard.

It’s not so much that a rapper made punchlines about food, that would be an over-simplification and really missing the trick. It’s that he made everything he said sound like the dopest thing ever and the most underrated trick about his music is that he made grown man rap without needing to be thuggin’. A rare feat.

Bronson has since gone on to establish himself as a content creator/producer/food review guy but man, what he accomplished as a complete body of work is nothing short of astonishing.

Recommended Songs: Midget Cough, Bonzai

1. Headie One

So it’s late last year. I’m hanging with my boy Phil and Brown, we had just finished some content and Phil says “yo listen to this”. He proceeds to play Golden Boot and it hasn’t stopped bumping since.

A UK rapper with a lyrical nous and wit that rivals even legends like Jay-Z, but rapping over trap and drill beats. What Headie One is doing is not the norm and I’m talking in terms of his lyrics, sentence construction, word selection, metaphors, he does it all and like all the greats, he makes it look easy.

His collaboration with RV definitely helped mold him, with both the “Sticks and Stones” and “Drillers and Trappers” mixtapes giving you an idea of what Headie offers as a lyricist. He compliments RV’s brash, aggressive boasts with slightly less obvious but incredibly witty boasts of his own.

His discography though really starts to peak with 2018′s “The One”. That’s where Headie begins find a sweet spot between his lyrics, production and the themes of his songs. A mixtape like this can only exist via independent release because outside of the aforementioned “Golden Boot”, ain’t none of those songs getting any radio play especially in a country as “conservative” as England. Even in a genre saturated with gangsta/trap, “The One” stands out for what he accomplishes lyrically.

Headie would follow that by releasing “The One Two” in June of 2018 and he ascends even more in what he’s able to accomplish with the words.

The track “Banter On Me” should be in an all-time list somewhere for being the wittiest track of all time. The song is literally just Headie finding new and innovative ways to boast, call out and bait his foes. Hip-hop/Rap has plenty of beef songs that weren’t really direct call outs to any known public figure but were still definitely taking shots at someone. 50 cent’s “Wanksta” and “Officer Down” are some examples of such songs I can think of. Those did not really have the kind of wit Headie displays here. The constant streams of alliterations, double meanings, puns, metaphors, inferences and innuendos is just astonishing. There’s a real mastery of language at play here. The song is a lesson in language, no textbooks.

Headie has since released his debut album along with additional tracks for the delux version of the album. His debut studio release “Edna” does what studio releases are supposed to do. “Parle-Vouz Anglais” and “Aint It Different” will standout and are difinitely the most palatable songs as far as radio play. Those are the 2 songs I’d play for first time listeners.

Recommended Songs: Hard To Believe, Dues, Zodiac

#music #hip-hop #rap #50 cent #jedi mind tricks #jay z #action bronson #headie #headie one

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mailorderfictionalcharacter · 4 years ago

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to love & be loved

@startreksecretsanta and @spinifex-ao3, I present my humble gift for the 2020 Secret Santa Exchange.

to love & be loved is a Raffi-centric short fic. It can be read on AO3 here, or below the cut.

There was this thing Raffi's therapist recommended. She said that we tend to view mental ailments as a result of a singular issue, when that was not the case. This isn't unique to the so-called mental conditions; physical ailments are always the result of multiple convergent factors, many of them largely outside of our control. Whether you break a bone running down a corridor depends on the gravity levels, the angle, your physical ability to catch yourself (or not), your species' biological attributes, and so on. But because the bone is easier to fix, we don't place as much value on all these could-have-happeneds.

So her therapist recommended that she looks at her alcoholism, even at the collapse of her family, and traces its lineage. To assemble the history in whatever way she preferred; a narrative, an artwork, a quasi-scientific graph, a mission report. Raffi tried and failed.

She ended up with a start chart of the Milky way, no, too big, zooming into a few classic earth constellations. She grabbed her stylus and pulled it across the screen, trying to connect disparate factors.

Childhood??? --- > my son --- > my husband left me

kicked out of starfleet --- > Starfleet = War?

Starfleet = JL? -- > betrayal?

She couldn't talk about any of it. She brought in a star chart with a handful of annotations explaining her biggest failures and regrets. She could barely explain why she wrote them down without crying, her hand itching for the phantom weight of a glass, even filled with water. So mapping the lineage of her alcoholism & her life became their goal. The implication being that you cannot fight a monster you cannot name.

***

Raffi's therapist was an Andorian woman with deep blue skin, almost an indigo tone. She was tall and friendly in a way that was sometimes clean and professional and sometimes cute and childish. On Earth, she took the name of Julia for some of her clients. Her actual name was J''ul/sth, but more humans were able to pronounce the vowels in Julia, so Julia it is. Julia was a fiercely intellectual woman and would cater her services to different conceptions of what it means to be mentally unwell. She was familiar with centuries of earth, Betazoid, and Andorian theories of mental illness, many of which weren't even addressed within the medical model preferred by Starfleet. Even in her darkest hours, Raffi could barely think a negative thought about Julia; her competence, her expertise was... illuminating.

For someone who had been judged by her own spouse as incapable, for someone who struggled to take care of her hair or to sweep a floor, it was intoxicating to have this brilliant woman focused solely on her for an hour each week. Julia never condescended. She had this assured confidence that Raffi was an interesting person, still worth talking to. It was the sort of thing that could give you hope, if you let yourself believe. It was also the sort of thing Raffi fucked up.

***

Julia was not a believer in abstinence from alcohol as the definition as sobriety. She pointed to it as an outdated Earth concept that had far too long of a shelf life for the evidence behind it. She encouraged Raffi to define her own boundaries about what substance use or lack thereof meant. And Raffi remembered when she could go to a bar for the music and the sensory experience of one or three Saurian brandies without the all consuming urge, twisting under her skin, telling her to escape from her life. And that was their goal. But Raffi didn't tell Julia which bar. She went to a local bar, one that straddled the line between bar and pub and played live music, an eclectic mix of whoever was willing to play for cheap, across genres, cultures, and species. Tonight was a young human teen, not a singer. They were remixing Vulcan instrumental music, very peaceful and precise, with bright and happy sounds. It was almost gauche, the way the emotions would intercut through the melodies. The sort of thing that art and music journals would comment on, asking if it was subversion or a childish rebellion, a blending of cultures or a mocking. The sort of thing that goes good with brandy.

And it was good. It was good for an hour, slowly nursing two drinks. It was good until she saw her, walking in kind of tipsy, skin flushed a warm blue. Surrounded by friends, bar hopping. On a youthful adventure. She felt ashamed, in that moment. That this woman half her age was supposed to be giving her advice, pretending to listen to her problems. That she could never be one of those friends, all so young, with a world to explore.

When Julia caught her eye, she walked over to say hello. And when Julia's friends asked her who she was, Raffi called herself a friend; not a client, not a patient. She doesn't know what it says that Julia didn't correct her; probably that outing a client was a breach of professional ethics. Raffi has more brandy, to wash away the deception, the feeling of herself as lecherous and pathetic and weak.

Raffi wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, entangled in long blue limbs. For a moment, this brings her happiness. The idea that she was wanted, that the woman who knew so much about her made love to her.

It was only for a moment.

She shifted out of the bed, cautiously. She left to the sound of gentle snoring and the feeling of breeze and slick on her public hair.

She didn't go back to therapy, after that.

She met Benjamin Sisko, Emissary to the Prophets and legendary war hero, at a Starfleet Intelligence conference. It was near the end of her career; there wasn't much longer she could hold onto the idea of the person she used to be, of whatever Starfleet begged from her. There were always threats on the horizon and she had become numb to it all. But Sisko interested her.

In a way, his life was quite possibly her worst nightmare. The idea of being essentially forced into a religion because, by the way, you are now an important figure in our religion and its impact on interstellar politics... what a nightmare. That wasn't mentioning being pulled out of linear time by powerful aliens worshipped as gods. At least -

At least when Q had showed up that one time, JL and him had a bit of a rapport.

But he didn't seem unhappy. She was used to seeing the haunted faces at conferences, as people who were raised in peace and sent out to explore ended up soldiers for war. Starfleet Intelligence was different, it attracted a more cynical bunch. The sort who wouldn't show it. But Sisko seemed... happy. He didn't look like a man who was kidnapped in order to appease powerful beings, or even someone straining under a PR lie. He looked like he had transcended beyond it all. And yeah, she wanted a piece of that.

But she couldn't ask for it. It was a crazy request. It was her imprinting her desires and pains onto a stranger's life.

It surprised her, after the conference, when he approached her and asked if she knew any Bajorans.

“Just the one.” Something in her felt compelled to add, “he wasn't religious.”

“So I'll be the first one to surprise you like this.”

And he grabbed her by the ear, what the shit, and said, in a low voice. “Your pagh is strong.”

***

After Agnes Jurati confessed to murdering a man, on their ship, the scientist had cried, and asked her, “Why are you still being so nice to me?” There were a lot of answers Raffi did not give. She did not say that she had a son and a husband who wouldn't let her love them and her desire to care for someone was apparently stronger than the realization that they were a semi-brainwashed murderer. She did not say that at this point, she didn't feel like she could judge anyone, morally speaking. Or that maybe this was pragmatism, keeping your friends close and your potential enemies closer. Or that at the very least, there wasn't much she could do to fuck up Agnes' life anymore, which is a marked improvement from the rest of her relationships.

Instead, she let herself feel soft. “Because, sometimes we make mistakes. And even if we can't fix them, I think we should still let ourselves love and be loved.”

#raffi musiker #alcoholism

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gingerpeachtae · 6 years ago

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Concentric [2]

masterlist

Words: 7k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: references to/after-effects of being choked

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: Here it is! I most likely won’t be able to update as fast as this in the future since my internship starts next week, but I will do my best to not have you guys waiting around for too long. Again, a big thanks to everyone reading Concentric, ya’ll are rockstars! Anyways, I hope you engoy the update 🥰

Neither of you spoke as you walked back to the parking lot. After you made your statement, Jimin had simply hung his head and limply consented. With a regret-filled sigh, he had turned to the Saeni and, you assumed, informed them that you would be joining the trip. Once he was finished speaking, he had quickly ushered you out of the clearing before you could get a glimpse of their reactions.

The two of you were walking side by side, and although you had questions writhing inside of your head, you remained quiet. For the moment, you were content just walking the trail. To hear the crunch of gravel and shift of dirt beneath your sneakers. To listen to the creaking sway of trees in the wind. To feel the sunlight filter through the leaves and onto your face. To absorb that silent, yet alive feeling of the forest. Jimin, on the other hand, did not seem content in the slightest. His eyes remained downcast on the earthy ground, refusing to look your way. You could tell that he was wary about you finally knowing the truth, and even more uneasy at the thought of you coming along with him and the others. He was, understandably, concerned about, so you tried to not take his avoidance to heart.

When the cars became visible through the foliage, you looked to Jimin once more, hoping he would finally return the favor. He just kept walking. Starting to feel a wee bit of rejection, you trailed behind him. With a jolt, you realized that he did not make a sound while making his way along the path. Not a kicking of rocks or snapping of twigs. Just a shift in the air as he marched on.

How many clues had you been blind to?

As you pulled your keys out of your jacket, you stilled as you saw the white glint of the dreamcatcher through his dark windshield. No longer sensing your immediate presence behind him, Jimin paused to turn around. When he saw you looking beyond him, he followed your line of sight and flinched slightly when he realized what you were staring at.

Sharply he said, “Go straight to my house,” but added in a pained whisper, “Please.”

Eyes flicking back to him, you noticed his wrecked expression. You gave him a nod because you still did not trust your voice to withhold the questions building inside of you. You unlocked your car and waited for him to leave, not wanting to arrive at his house before him. Usually, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought since you had a key to his place. However, this was a tricky situation and you wanted to tread carefully.

Noting that Jimin began backing out of his space, you turned on the ignition and put it in reverse, not bothering to plug your phone into the aux cord. Your mind was still reeling a little too much to consider listening to music. Instead, you lowered your windows and continued to listen to the forest, the sounds comforting you as you started to drive.

You gently knocked on his weathered, white door to alert him that you were there as you softly opened it and stepped through the threshold. Entering the living room, you saw Jimin sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Your heart ached, never having seen him appear so lost before. Sitting down beside him, you waited silently until he was ready.

He cursed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Wherever you’re comfortable with.” You reached out to grab his hand and he clung back tightly.

“Okay, um, I guess I’ll start with Illain first…

It’s a world that doesn’t exist in our universe, but it is connected to Earth. Think of it like a parallel universe without having replicated people. What happens to one doesn’t directly affect the other, but they are still linked. Does that make sense?”

You nodded even though it didn’t, at least not completely. You let it go, though, because you weren’t concerned about those specifics.

“It’s named after the mother goddess, Illai, and it’s not as… industrialized as Earth is. Most of it is still covered in forests and natural landscapes. Saeni are the people who inhabit it. They are similar to humans, but, as you saw, have elongated ears, as well as a few other, ah, differences.”

You pulled your hand back as you blurted, “Oh god. Don’t tell me they have tentacles!? Holy shit, do they? Wait, do you!?”

“What the fuck? No. There’re no tentacles. You seriously need to stop reading weird smut online.”

“Yes, because it’s the tentacles that would’ve made this whole situation completely ridiculous.”

After seeing Jimin’s stressed-out expression, you let out a small apology and allowed him to continue.

“There’s differences like heightened senses and reflexes, as well as some other stuff.”

“The ‘other stuff’ sure sounds like some tentacles,” you mumbled to yourself before shutting up.

“A handful of Saeni are able to tap into an energy that flows through Illain and they get certain abilities from harnessing it. It’s basically magic. The petal I gave you was a form of that energy; it allows the recipients to see and hear the Saeni when they are glamoured. Which is why it seemed like we were alone until you took it. There’s another petal, a yellow one, that offers the ability to understand the Saeni language and speak it. You’ll have to take both petals every day when we cross over to Illain.”

“So, is one of the Saeni from the park able to manipulate the energy into magic?”

“Yeah, Yoongi. You’ll get to know each of them. They’re… very special to me. They’re my brothers.”

Your eyes widened, wondering how they were his siblings when they looked nothing alike. Maybe genetics worked differently for Saeni?

Seeing your reaction, Jimin said, “Not my actual brothers! We’re not related, but they’re brothers to me in every sense of the word except biologically.”

“I get it.” You grabbed his hand again and gave it a squeeze. “Family isn’t always blood.”

It was quiet for a few heartbeats.

“So… how do you fit into everything?”

You were exhausted by the time you unlocked your front door. You were hungry, dirty, and sore. You briefly wondered whether the entire thing had actually even occurred. But it did. The two hours you spent talking with Jimin was evidence enough.

He had told you how his mother somehow ended up crossing over to Illain one day, and there she met his father and they fell in love. Though, shortly after Jimin was born, his father died, and his mom returned to Earth with a half-human, half-Saeni baby.

Knowing it would be wrong to keep his true heritage a secret, his mom told him what he really was when he was young. One of his dad’s friends would come to check on them every year until he was seven. After that, Jimin started going with him to Illain for a few months out of the year to train as a warrior, as many Saeni did at that age. It was during this training that he met the other Saeni from the park. The seven of them stuck together throughout the years and eventually formed their own kiela, which Jimin explained was the Saeni word for seven, and it was considered a sacred number. When seven warriors become indescribably close, they take a vow to stick with one another and form a permanent group, a kiela. You weren’t sure how it worked with Jimin being gone most of the time, but you didn’t bring that up since it seemed like a sensitive topic.

You sighed as you made your way through your apartment, clutching the list of items Jimin had written down that he suggested you bring on the trip. Reading through it, you noted that you had all the materials, hence, you decided that packing could wait until post-shower and food. You yanked off your shoes and clothes before dragging your tired body to the bathroom. Promptly after flipping on the light, you looked into the mirror and flinched at your reflection. You looked like shit.

Hair tangled, skin scraped, and dirt underneath your nails. The worst part was your neck, though. Red marks and purple bruises lined your throat in a vague shape of a hand. You sharply inhaled as you gingerly prodded at the tender area, and you grimaced at the thought of leaving it unconcealed to heal. You weren’t bringing make up with you, therefore, there would be nothing to hide the brutal marks. It was a done deal and there was nothing to be done about, so with one last look at your disheveled appearance, you turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower.

Groaning at the sound of your alarm the next morning, you were temporarily confused as to why you were waking up at five in the morning.

Fucking hell, this is worse than accounting.

You caught sight of the backpack you had carefully packed last night when you leaned over to slap off the shrill alarm. The events from the prior day came rushing back to you. Throwing the comforter off of you, you groaned again as cold air hit your body. But you forced yourself up to prepare for your departure. You made the bed, double-checked the contents of the backpack, went to the bathroom, ate the rest of the fruit in your fridge and made sure all the items with an expiration date had been thrown out, and filled up your giant water bottle. Glancing at the clock, you saw that it was 5:38. You needed to meet Jimin at his house at 6, so you only had a few more minutes left before you had to leave. Hurriedly, you grabbed the note you had written that was addressed to your parents, and gently placed it on your bed along with your cell phone. No point in bringing it when you would have no service. Also, since you were essentially disappearing and couldn’t exactly tell your parents what you were doing or where you were going, you had decided to write them a letter explaining that Jimin had an issue and needed help resolving it. You typically contacted your parents at least once a day, so they immediately would know something was up when you didn’t reply anymore. You just hoped that they would come check your apartment and see the letter. Taking a last look at your home, you took a deep breath before shouldering the backpack and closing the front door behind you.

You reached Jimin’s house with four minutes to spare. Sitting down on the steps leading to his porch, you waited for him to come out. Promptly, at 6 AM you heard him walk out and plop down next to you.

“The Uber will be here in two.”

Both of you agreed that Ubering would be for the best. Neither of you had wanted to leave your car sitting at the park. It would raise suspicion and you didn’t need a manhunt looking for you when you would be nowhere to be found. Also, you were both broke college students and that was not a good combination with parking tickets.

An hour and ten minutes had passed since you had gotten into the car that pulled up to Jimin’s house, and you now found yourself entering the same clearing as yesterday. As you emerged from the branches and shrubs, you saw that the Saeni were already waiting for you. Before acknowledging them, you stuck your tongue out at the tree you had the pleasure of being pinned to, noticing that it was a huge, old oak tree. When you moved your gaze back to the Saeni, you saw that they all had thick hoods pulled over their heads. It made it impossible to discern which were the ones you had interacted with. Some of them leaned back against trees casually, one sat cross legged on the ground, and another was curled up underneath a tree napping. Tilting your head, you wondered if it was the mint-haired one who did the same thing yesterday. As you looked curiously at the sleeping lump, you heard a voice directed at you.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon. I’m sort of the leader of the group.”

You turned on your heel to see the tall Saeni with yellow eyes introducing himself while he pulled back his hood. You leaned your head back to take in his face and features. His brown hair was shorter on the sides, and his hoop earrings each had a dark bead hanging from the metal. The heavy head of his mace was visible over his right shoulder. His face lit up with happiness as you looked at him. He raised his hand to his chest, but suddenly jerked and brought his hand to the side in a small wave. Jimin watched him with amusement, while you just smiled at the endearing male and gave him a small wave of your own.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Namjoon. I’m Y/N. Are you the lucky recipient of a yellow petal today?”

“Hmm? Oh, no! This is actually all me,” he said sheepishly. “I really like learning, so I had Jimin teach me when he had spare time.”

“Why are you embarrassed about that? It’s really impressive!” You gawked at him.

We stan an intellectual in this house!

Namjoon let out a shy but grateful, “Thank you.

“So, obviously we aren’t glamoured right now since you can see us, but we will be when we cross over to Illain so here are your daily petals,” he said as he reached into a pocket and pulled out the delicate, magical objects.

“Ah, yes, here we go. Thank you for supplying my drugs,” you sarcastically retorted as you took the petals from his hand.

“Oh, and you’ll be glamoured too! No offense, but if you weren’t, you would be really suspicious and kind of attract unwanted attention��”

You let out a laugh and nodded in agreement.

“Well, please let me know if you need anything or have any questions, okay? I want you to feel as comfortable as we can make you.”

Your heart fluttered at his kind words. You were really touched that he went out of his way to make you feel welcomed and included.

“I will. Thank you Namjoon!” You told him.

As he walked away from you to converse with another Saeni, you popped the pink petal into your mouth. Stars and galaxies once again erupted behind your eyes. You could see an entire universe in front of you, expanding and unfurling with desire. Bright lights were born that kissed the edge of your vision. You could hear the cosmos sing and the moons weep. Sweet as cream on the tip of your tongue. Secretive as lovers under a dark sky. And it was wanting something. It was anxious and coiling with ambition. There was something in those lights that demanded your attention. It grabbed at you, gripped your focus, and then released all at once. The stars dimmed, and the galaxies died. Their blinding music fading to the calm psithurism of the wild forest around you.

You had to blink to get your senses back to normal before you were able to ready yourself for the next petal. You tensed your limbs as you moved the yellow object toward your mouth. But when you finally dropped the delicate thing onto your tongue, it did not expel a grand universe. Rather, it was a cocoon of sensation that was gently draped over you. Slow as honey, and thick and heavy like a winter blanket. It was sitting on a porch during a thunderstorm drinking tea. It was eating cookies fresh out of the oven. It was the feeling of being alone and content and tiny. It was raw happiness and understanding. And then it was just… gone. Like the galaxies were.

You sighed, eliciting a questioning look from your best friend. You shook your head with a small smile to let him know that you were fine. He moved to direct you to the start of the journey, but you held up a hand. There was something to take care of first.

You inhaled deeply and quickly expelled the air, mentally giving yourself a hype session of how your Momma didn’t raise no bitch before turning the Saeni.

“Before we go, I do want to know one thing.” You addressed the group.

A couple nodded in acknowledgement, and the others did object. So, ignoring the urge to rub your sore and bruised neck, you raised your chin, looked directly at them, and said, “I want to know which one of you tried to kill me.”

Jimin stiffly coughed and stared at you like you were going insane.

You head tilted in the direction of that stupid, old oak, in case they had forgotten that wonderful moment from yesterday, and you waited. It wasn’t like you were asking because you were scared or wanted to avoid the person. Jimin had told you that they were cautious around strangers, and the way you had raised your voice had ended up setting them over the edge. A simple, though brutal and unfortunate, misunderstanding. As a result, you were honestly just curious.

The six warriors were quiet for several breaths until one stepped forward. He reached up to the rich brown hood that shadowed his face, his hands hesitating for only a heartbeat before pulling back the thick fabric. His right hand returned to rest on the glittering red stone atop his dagger.

“That would have been me,” the burgundy head claimed with cold eyes.

And why were you not surprised at that? After all, he was the one that had glared at you like you had stolen his favorite toy. Or maybe it was because you kicked him in the balls? Though in your defense, he did choke you, so you had just gotten even.

You rolled your eyes then met his gaze straight on. “May I be privileged enough to know your name?”

Jimin leaned over and inquired what you were doing with a whisper. You held back a shiver at his warm breath on your neck and voice in your ear, and only gave a mere shrug in response. You were on a mission, so you were accepting no distractions.

“It’s only fair that I know the name of my attacker, don’t you think?” You added innocently, cocking your head to side.

“Jungkook,” he spit out through his teeth like the reveal physically pained him.

His hand shifted to grip the handle of the dagger tightly. He had done the same thing yesterday after you started returning his glare, so you suspected it was a habit of his when he got peeved. Yet, from the action, you didn’t miss the scars that adorned the back of his hand. Nor the cautionary look Jimin gave him. You pursed your lips when Jungkook gave the handle one final squeeze before loosening his grip. Whoever your Slim Jim was in this new world, he apparently carried some weight if he was obeyed whenever he threw those looks around. The others were all watching the exchange with intrigue, except for the one still resting under a tree.

Geez, does nothing excite that dude? I mean I like sleep too buddy, so Big Mood, but still.

Moseying your way over to the annoyed male, you gave him a sweet smile. “Well, Jungkook, just know that since I can see, hear, and understand you now, I won’t be as helpless next time.”

You glanced down at the area that had been throttled with your leg not 24 hours ago and converted your smile to a smirk.

“And I won’t need to resort to cheating to win either.”

From behind you, you could hear Jimin swear in an exasperated tone.

Jungkook’s eyes caught sight of your ravaged neck and they momentarily softened. You thought you even saw a flash of guilt, but they quickly turned cold once more. Being right in front of him, you noticed that they were a piercing light green rimmed in a darker shade of emerald. If you weren’t so fed up with the guy’s antics, you would have likened them to peridot. But since you were, you decided to settle on old peas. He, too, had piercings in his ears, just one silver hoop on his right side and three on the left. Your attention was brought back to the matter at hand when he pulled out the short blade from the scabbard at his hip. He closely inspected the cunning dagger. You would have admired the beauty of the weapon, if not for the fact that it was intimidatingly close to your face. Your eyes were stuck on the blade, watching as he slowly turned it in the rising sunlight. While the light was refracting off the polished metal, you could see that there was an inscription on the dagger, but you couldn’t make out what it was.

Not even bothering to look up from his weapon, he challenged with a sharp tone that matched the edge of the blade, “Oh, do you really think so little human?”

You blinked at his serrated voice, wondering how you should respond.

What would Steve Rogers do?

Well, he would never back the fuck down from a fight. So, neither would you.

You accepted his challenge by returning your eyes to his face. His own flickering up when he felt the weight of your unfaltering stare.

When his eyes met yours, you slapped on a cute smirk. “Mmmm before I forget…”

You leaned in as close as you dared with his wicked blade still in front of you while maintaining eye contact with his green orbs. “I may be into choking, but if you’re going to do it, you should really learn the proper technique.”

You trailed your eyes down and back up his physique as you finished. “I’m a simple girl, but I can be hard to please and I expect my partners to know how to handle themselves.”

Pulling back from Jungkook and returning your attention to Jimin, you beamed and clapped your hands together. Not before noting how stiff the burgundy-haired asshat had gone at your words. God this guy. His damn ego couldn’t even take some valid constructive criticism. Well, it wouldn’t be your fault when he killed someone mid-thrust. Unless he was celibate, which would really explain why he was so uptight. Glancing at the rest of the Saeni, they were a mix of complete shock and struggle to withhold their laughter. Their struggle becoming more strained when Jungkook abruptly marched away from you.

“Alrighty! What are we waiting around for? Let’s go!” You called out to the group.

Jimin pushed a hand through his hair and grabbed your wrist, tugging you along while he chuckled and shook his head at you.

“I’m going on an adventure!” You said as you allowed yourself to be led to a new world.

“Really?” You dragged the word out. “I thought we were finally going.”

The beginning of your adventure ended a mere 15 feet away. Right in front of that big, old oak tree you were well acquainted with.

“Stupid tree,” you muttered beneath your breath, “I hope you never grow leaves again so you’re permanently naked.”

You continued the creative curses at the ancient being until they trailed off into silence.

“Uhhh. Hey, Slim Jim? What’re they doing?” You questioned as the six warriors began climbing up the tree’s study branches. “Shouldn’t they be doing an spell or something? Isn’t that how it usually works?”

“Not in real life.” He smiled, giving you a push toward to the tree.

This is so not as cool. Or fun.

You hoisted yourself limb from limb and up and up and up. You were sweating by the time you finally caught up with the Saeni. Jimin climbed right behind you, keeping a hand either on your back or leg to hold you steady during your ascent. He had warned you not to look down when you began pulling your body up through the branches.

It seemed he really enjoyed his warnings nowadays.

But, you couldn’t help yourself and shifted to look downward for a moment. And another moment. And another. You couldn’t look away. You were so high up. And you loved it. The wind thrashed through the leaves and unbound stands of your hair from where you had pulled it back. They danced across your face like they had never felt a true breeze before. You felt your body sway with the thick branch you were crouched on, and you threw a wild smile at the boy beneath you, y/e/c eyes glittering with awe. You heard some of the Saeni give an approving hum at your wonder.

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Your grin grew bigger when you saw the mint-haired Saeni raise his hands and speak low and fast. His palms began emanating a blue, glittering light that matched the strands on his head. He was doing an incantation! Or something. You weren’t sure what was going on, but it made you bounce on your branch in anticipation. Your best friend quickly grabbed your calf firmly, silently telling you to calm the fuck down.

You whispered a sorry to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hide your excitement. The blue glow faded and was replaced by a rapid snapping sound that was eerily similar to that of a branch breaking. You look to Jimin in panic, hands tightening around the limb you were perched on. He looked back at you coolly, and none of the other members of the party appeared to be disturbed by the noise. Apparently, everything was fine? You cautiously released your clenched muscles and eased the grip of your hands. You looked back up to the Saeni and your draw dropped when you saw Namjoon wink at you before stepping forward and disappearing down the center of the tree.

“There are certain trees whose roots connect between Earth and Illain. This is one of them. Yoongi can use it to form a bridge of sorts that we can travel through. The bridge just happens to be straight down the middle of the tree itself,” Jimin explained beneath you.

“Whoa… Hey, so Yoongi is Mr. Sparkle Hands?”

“Er. Uh. Yes. Yoongi has the sparkle hands.”

“Thank you for the show Mr. Sparkle Hands!” You called up to the Saeni, who shot you a withering look.

As you patiently waited for your turn to travel through the tree bridge, you swung your legs in the air as you watched the other warriors jump down one after the other.

Hell, this is tons better than a muddy rabbit hole. Take that Alice.

After a couple of minutes, it was just you, Jimin, and Yoongi left at the top of the tree. You heaved yourself up the last few limbs until you were next to Yoongi and peered down at the hole he had opened. It looked like someone has taken a giant drill to the oak, as the innards of the bridge still looked like plain, old wood.

Straightening out, you smiled brightly at the mint-haired male. His petal pink eyes gave you a judgmental glance before looking away, so you were left smiling at his bone ear piercings instead of his face. Undeterred, you gave the earrings a good wink as if they had feelings before you let out a tinkling laugh at the Saeni’s actions.

Jimin climbed up behind you and leaned over your shoulder to gaze at the hole.

“Aww Yoongi. You’re always so thoughtful.” Jimin gave him an appreciative look.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Saeni grumbled before leaping down the hole himself.

“What was that about?” You asked Jimin.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” he dismissed, “Look there are some very convenient grooves in the wood on this side, so you can climb down instead of jumping like a maniac.”

“You say maniac as if you’re not about to do the same thing.” You raised a knowing eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, yeah. You know I love a good adrenaline rush. Just get your ass climbing down already.”

While it certainly looked badass, you were in no place to break your leg, or worse, by jumping down to who knows where. Hence, you heeded your friend’s advice and decided on the more practical route. You took a look at the sky and leaves and whispered a goodbye before starting your descent. You made your way down, down, down. Minutes passed, and it became harder to see where to place your hands and feet. The entrance only a small circle far above your head, meaning there was basically zero light at your current position. You began relying on your sense of touch rather than sight, praying that you wouldn’t miss a groove and plummet. It’s an interesting thought: thinking about dying inside of a tree. Which would absolutely blow because the adventure hadn’t even truly begun. Plus, the dying part itself would be a real Debbie Downer on your day.

To whatever higher power is out there, please don’t let me die inside of a damn tree trunk.

“Don’t fret little scorja, you’re not going to die.” A deep, masculine voice echoed up to you.

Shit. Did you say that out loud? You winced with embarrassment, your body briefly locking up before your legs found the next step and kept moving. You couldn’t see anything at this point and you were glad that you did not fear the dark because you don’t think you could have even twitched a muscle if you did. Continuing your descent, you lowered your body until a hand lightly touched your ankle. The unsuspected contact caused you to let out a soft yelp.

“It’s alright. You just have a few more steps to go.” The same deep voice from before comforted you.

A few grooves later, strong hands gripped your waist and eased you onto solid ground.

“Um… thank you, whoever you are,” you said.

“You’re very welcome, little scorja.”

One hand moved from your waist to settle on your shoulder, and you felt the presence of whomever held you lean down to say, “My name is Taehyung.”

Seconds later the seventh and final member of the Kiela had his feet on the ground. The sound of his sudden entrance made you jerk away from Taehyung in surprise. The self-proclaimed adrenaline junkie had jumped after all.

“Fucking maniac,” you joked at your friend, who in turn scooped you into a big hug.

Although you giggled at his affection, you had to internally yell at your heart for getting so excited at his touch. Taking a step out of his embrace to resettle yourself, you wondered how he was able to find you so fast. It was pitch black, the entrance like a small star high above you and you couldn’t see a damned thing. However, everyone else seemed to get around just fine.

“So, do you guys have night vision or something?”

An unknown voice, one that you strongly suspected to be Jungkook’s, replied, “What? The little human can’t see in the dark? What a shame.”

You rolled your eyes, hoping that his “superior” vision allowed him to see it.

“Kookieeee,” Taehyung whined beside you, “why are you being so mean?”

Kookie?

There was a noise that suspiciously sounded like someone had just gotten smacked upside the head. You would bet some money and your next bag french fries (you know when you think you’re all out and huzzah! there’s still more at the bottom of the bag) that one, precious Kookie was on the receiving end.

“Ya! Where are your manners!? I didn’t raise you like this!” A voice shouted.

Jungkook only growled in response.

“Seriously Kook, you need to stop. You’re acting like a child,” another voice said sternly. Namjoon maybe?

With that, his growl turned into a pouty groan. “Hyung!”

Um… why is speaking Korean all of the sudden?

“I teach them a few basic words every summer,” Jimin informed you after sensing your internal question.

“Huh.”

“If you’re all done, can we please get going? The dark is making me tired.” Yet another voice interrupted the situation.

When nobody said anything else, the same voice cursed, “Thank fucking Exia.”

With that, a mint-blue glow lit up the dark and you watched Yoongi crouch down with both hands pointed toward the floor. Several recitations later, another hole was created at your feet. You could see a clear blue sky, thick branches, and fluttering leaves when you curiously tilted up on your tip toes to look through it. You pursed your lips, wondering how the hell you were looking up through the bottom of the floor. You observed as Namjoon got onto his hands and knees and reached out to grab a hold of a tree branch to hoist himself through the hole, or was it down? Or up? You weren’t sure which preposition was correct for the action, but no matter what was right, you were amazed at the process. Once Namjoon was safely settled on a thick branch, the yellow-eyed Saeni reached his hand out to aid the rest of the group in transferring over to the other side.

After you popped out of the hole like a newborn baby, you noticed that you recognized the layout of wooden limbs. You realized that the tree you were on was identical to the one of Earth. The second thing you realized was how sweet and fresh the air smelled. Jimin had mentioned how Illain was more nature than buildings, and you could immediately appreciate the difference that made to the air quality. You continued deeply breathing in the glorious air as you scrambled down the tree to the earthy ground to wait for Jimin to emerge from the tree bridge.

Once everyone had their feet on the dirt, Namjoon gave the order to start moving. Jimin made sure you were doing okay before jogging to catch up and walk with the leader. You mentally cursed your chickpea brain because you still had no idea where you were headed or why the Saeni needed Jimin. You had literally forgotten to ask one of the most important things.

It’s okay chickpea brain, I’m sure you’ll have the chance to ask at some point.

A male came up beside you as you walked. When he reached your side, he flipped off his hood and revealed a bright face with silvery white hair and light brown eyes. He moved with grace, easily evading the natural obstructions in his way. The fluidity of his movements reminded you of something, but you couldn’t put your finger on what. You were trying to rack your chickpea brain for graceful creatures in an effort to pinpoint what it was, when you caught sight of Jimin in front of you. His dancer’s body weaving around trees and fallen logs.

That’s what it is!

The male beside you had the grace of a dancer. You momentarily felt like a walnut since you hadn’t realized it immediately even though you, too, were a dancer, but the thought fled your mind when he spoke.

“You’ve got a pair of gojcha, girl. Going after Jungkook like that.”

You kept your stride but gave him a side glace. His huge smile hit you in the face and caught you off guard, as did his prominent dimples. Although you didn’t know him at all, you go the feeling that he was a very warm and genuine person. That smile would be a damn waste if he weren’t. As the male turned to face forward again, you caught the glint of a single metal earring dangling from his ear. They all liked their piercings, huh? You couldn’t lie and say that it looked bad on him, because good lord, it suited him well. The piercings suited all of them well. Or, you assumed all of them since you had yet to meet the sixth and final full Saeni of the group. Shit… was every Saeni attractive like them? You didn’t know if you could mentally, or physically, handle that.

Peeking another look at him, you saw that he did not carry a sword, but had knives and daggers strapped to almost every accessible inch of his body. Harnesses crossed this way and that to carry them all. In all honesty, it was super hardcore and even borderline NSFW. Basically, it was a fantasy come to life wrapped in one, hot male package for anyone with a knife and BDSM kink. He removed a small, thin blade from its home on his arm and began flipping it around his hand, causing your face to lose color. You didn’t like the thought of pissing this guy off, his nimble movements hinting at his impressive skill with the weapon. But you relaxed when you looked back up to his dimpled smile again.

Damn, his outfit seriously contrasts with his sweet and pretty face. You noted before replying to his comment.

“Well, something’s telling me that his whole show with the dagger is just because he’s, uh, lacking, in other areas.” You let out a laugh. “My leg wasn’t too impressed with Kookie’s lil Biscoff yesterday.”

The male began hacking as he tried to stifle his laughter. Shoulders shaking even harder when the two of you saw Jungkook give you a scowl. You responded with a handsome middle finger, which just riled him up further, causing him to stalk over to you. You were surprised he recognized the gesture and was in the middle of wondering if Jimin taught them the meaning of it when Jungkook stuck his face in yours.

“You don’t get to call me that,” he snarled.

Without a hint of remorse, you replied, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries. I’ll just stick with Coco from here on out.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Coco?”

“Your hair cut makes your head look like a damn coconut, but Coconut Head takes too long to say so… Coco.” You sent out a puff of air to rustle the hair on his forehead to really drive your point home.

The Saeni you had been talking to grabbed Jungkook around the waist as he lunged for you. The scene made the entire group stop and look back at the commotion. Jimin called the furious Jungkook up to him and sent you and apologetic face. Waving it off, you looked back at the Saeni next to you who struggled to maintain a somewhat decent composure.

“Aish. I’m sorry about him. He gets shy around newcomers and forgets how to act properly. Also, I have no clue what a ‘Biscoff’ is, but… I can get what you’re referring to.”

“You call that shy?” You skeptically raised a brow.

He let out a snort before finally gathering himself together. Quieter now, he traced a thumb down the center of his chest toward his stomach, his amber eyes flashing with amusement.

“My name’s Hoseok and well, whatever he may be lacking, it sure isn’t in fighting. He may be our maknae, but he’s our best, and not just out of us,” he indicated to the others, “but in the entire Saeni ranks too. Nobody can beat him.”

“Not for the lack of trying, Hobi.” The grey-headed warrior with the headband from yesterday came over and threw an arm around Hoseok’s shoulders. “Though you did get a good hit in there, little scorja.”

“Taehyung?” You slowly questioned, wondering if it was the same male from inside the tree since he used the same name for you that that male had.

He grinned at you and did the same motion Hoseok had done moments earlier. Thumb traced down the center of his chest. It must be their version of a handshake or wave.

“You can just call me Tae like the rest of the guys do!”

“Tae. Okay. So, you can speak English sometimes?”

“You’re damn right, little scorja. Just like how you’re speaking my language now.”

“Scorja, what does that mean? You keep calling me that.”

It was Hoseok who spoke, “Scorjas are flowers that grow on a vine. Sturdy plants and one of the most beautiful in Illain. They have an innate ability to sense who you are as a person and how pure your intentions are. If your soul pleases the scorja, it will do you no harm. If it does not, then the flower secretes a poison that can cause death if not treated. Not everyone is able to pass the test and safely touch them.”

“Beautiful and gentle until someone tries to mess with it, just like you,” Tae added.

You felt your checks grow warm at his comment and you held your face in your hands to hide any evidence that his words affected you.

“But you don’t know me. I may turn out to be rude and manipulative,” you said with a teasing lilt.

Both males looked at you with fond smiles, like they did, in fact, know you. Which was downright crazy.

“Jimin talks about you a lot when he’s here. What you’re like and how much he misses you. So, in a way, we do know you, little scorja. Beautiful, gentle, and just a tad bit ferocious. The name fits…”

“So, the name stays,” Hoseok finished, dimples emerging again.

Your eyes went wide, and you nearly tripped over the root you were stepping over.

Jimin talks about me?

You and Jimin were obviously great friends, but the fact that he shared you with these people shocked you. These people who he described as his brothers. He shared you with his Kiela, those he considered to be closer than family. Even though you had no idea that they had existed, he still wanted them to know about you. You were that special to him.

Your eyes began to get misty and you quickly blinked to keep the tears at bay. You hummed at the males to acknowledge their words, but you couldn’t look at them. Not when your eyes were locked onto a certain half-human, half-Saeni as he walked ahead of you, oblivious to your soft eyes on his back.

previous [1] --- next [3]

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hybbat · 5 years ago

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Okay, I know this may come off weird. I do not play DnD or anything like it, but I saw some of your characters and I fell in love with them. If you do not mind answering me, I enjoy writing, and I am curious as to how you design your characters.

Not at all, besides D&D I also write in my spare time as well and make comics. I find they all have slightly different processes at least for me.

Since digital art is my main medium of expression, I tend to first draw characters before anything. Characters like Mikeitaa my druid tiefling I went into a blank page and just drew out and pieced it together along the way.

Others are inspired by things that make me excited; the most blatant is my aasimar barbarian, Ashar, who I drew after the KDA music video was dropped.

Its usually less blatant than that though, such as a general aesthetic, a colour palette, a design concept, sometimes its as little as a line I drew that just catches my attention. The important part is that inspiration.

I find this process is quite successful for me when creating PCs that I like enough to play. I usually develope their personality and character along the way while drawing, filling in the blanks here and there once I'm done to flesh them out. A good example of this I think is Reqei

His inspiration was his style of horns, specifically the thought of "what if their "eyebrows" were just hair tufts sticking out from the bottom of their horns?" I ended up drawing a tilted and kind of sad face and as the rest came out I developed the idea of this emotionally numb slave soldier. Talking to my DM about his setting placed him as a slave of the dwarves, his nicer attire and weapon due to being sold as a personal guard after not dying, and informed many other aspects of his psychology and personality. I filled in smaller things with the details that caught my attention and some creative thinking: he wouldn't use a gun and the starting gear doesn't allow for it but his master would certainly have his life threatened with one, so its a broken gun that serves as a memory. His claws don't quite match his colour palette though it compliments his gear's metal buttons and halberd.

Reqei is already someone who goes into instinctual survival mode and would use anything as a weapon, what if he saved his master clawing someone's face off with a cheap metal prosthetic claw and he had all of them replaced for his sake so Reqei had more weapons? Of course dueing this all the characters related to Reqei are also being fleshed out, such as his master and his master's wife.

I think the most important thing is that these things are not irrelevant. They inform/shape not only his character but the characters involved with him. I always ask "what does this tell me about the character?" Especially durring this process of fleshing out the little things. With this even simple characters become interesting and without it big characters might wring hollow, I've had both happen to me.

Its important that you are personaly interested in the character regardless of the medium, even if its just and npc or side character, something like "I would really like to see more of that character and see their story unfold." Thats how I usually make NPCs for my players, and its easy to control if you know what appeals to certain people and you can make it obvious that certain characters clearly have more going on to draw the eye even while making everyone interesting looking.

Some of that can translate to written and other mediums but I think for more structured storytelling like comics and especially writing you have to take a different approach. I find for comics its important for me to draw characters first still because the characters i come up with in my head I might not be able to draw to my satisfaction, but for writing you can go hogwild with your imagination as long as you can describe it, the character isn't as limited by your personal skill as in visual mediums.

The most important difference between them and D&D though is that you already know the story you're putting them in, they're often developed alongside the story as a part of it, not inserted into it. Because of that you have to think a little more utilitarian. "Does this serve a purpose to the narrative/themes/aesop?" In D&D its part of the DM's job to build a narritive AROUND the PCs and its developing live. In a written story this is usually a bad idea because it ends up with plot holes and such so its important characters be fitted into the story and not just created separately and inserted.

For zombiegirl we wanted to make a gag 4koma so we created characters that could clash and create comedic moments, made their personalities a little ridiculous and over the top, and most importantly created characters who while quirky in their own right, could play straightmen to the comedy. The genre really shaped the characters we made and many of the side characters were made to fill comedic niches that fit the aesthetic and themes.

They're also all visually distinct, with visual media people usually go by the rule of "every character has an identifiable sillouette". In writing I find a decent equivelant to be speech patterns and unique identifiable features that can be refered to quickly. This character has red hair, this character is the shortest, this one has no eyebrows; Something that could easily be used as an identifying nickname in a situation where their name isn't known.

In general I tend to write very eccentric and somewhat extreme characters. The most important thing to me is their point of interest. Something makes me want to play/draw/write more about them, something to explore. I tend to end up with "main character NPCs" because of this, where they're too interesting for their role in the story and never get explored to a satisfactory extent. In D&D thats okay because you never really know who your players will want to talk to and have a story with, but in structured writing it can just leave you unsatisfied if their interestingness isnt properly scaled.

I guess the most important thing is it feels natural. While people say "don't judge a book by its cover" people do express themselves consciously or not. Their appearance should serve a purpose. Whether you should create the appearance first or the personality first depends on what they're being made for. I always remind myself that in the end, characters are tools of their story and vice versa and to varying amounts create them with that in mind.

My last note is that I draw from things that interest me. I like plants and flower language and bugs and animals, nature in general. Sometimes I make characters with similar interests but more often I use that knowledge to create characters; characters themed after animals, motifs, drawing from animal behaviours and exploring them in a more self aware humanoid. I end up with a lot of wild child types and alien psychology because of this.

My most recent example of this is the harvester god who holds fatherhood as the most important relationship and opposes the eat or be eaten matriarchal drow spider goddess, inspired by how male harvestmen protect their eggs from egg eating females. I have to remind myself sometimes that when it comes to inspiration its more important that you like the resulting concept than accuracy to the inspiration unless accuracy is the point.

Some people get caught up trying to make one to one allegories but if you're writing fantasy then I think those are pointless. I like fantasy's ability to explore situations and characters that can't exist in real life, beyond just magical abilities and such. I end up creating very alien characters because of that. I tend to frame characters more biologically than philosophically which informs how they themselves think, which is often very animalistic.

I dont know if any of that satisfies your curiosity I think I got off track a lot, sorry. I hope I answered your question somewhere in there.

#ask #long answer

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memescomicswriting · 5 years ago

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In the Pursuit of Happiness ch. 9

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Reader x Bucky, Reader x Steve

Warnings/genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Singer!Avenger. Raised by Sheild since the age of ten, Y/N grew up without everyday examples. She only saw how to be an agent. Though, as a grown woman she has surpassed that mindset, she still faces challenges from her upbringing- like how to handle feelings, unrequited love, and interpersonal dilemmas. Set after similar plot points in Civil War, Y/N must face returning home after leaving during an uncomfortable time in her life and face the consequences.

A/N: Guess who’s back? Back again? Shady’s back. Back again. After some hiatus, I am back with chapter nine and some juicy background. I got the next chapter planned in my mind, but don’t expect a hard copy anytime soon. Sorry!

Story Masterlist | Masterlist

Bucky knew a caged animal when he saw one. He felt like that most of the time. So when Y/N began her panic attack, Bucky tried to understand what was happening. Unlike Bucky, Y/N's panic attack developed much faster and resulted in fight or flight action. Bucky's PTSD manifested in temporary amnesia, slipping into his former personas, and his body nearly shutting down. He'd witnessed soldiers experience shock throughout the war, and some ran, but most were paralyzed by fear. Bucky wasn't prepared for Y/N's sudden outburst. He followed her out of the room. He was nearly as quick as her, but not quick enough. The girl bolted straight out of a window. Bucky'd been on missions with Y/N before and she had a variety of skills that allowed her to become the perfect agent for covert operations. He'd never seen her in open battle. So the fear he had for her jumping to a seven-story drop morphed into pure awe. Waves of sunlight lit the sky up like fireworks. Y/N emitted nearly blinding rays of light as her body moved like a shooting star. Before she shot off, her attention turned to Bucky. There was no recognition in her eyes. He was a stranger to her. Like a rocket, she departed for the stars. "Friday!" Bucky pleaded for the AI's attention. Soon, a melodic unhuman voice boomed through the room. "Yes, Sergent Barnes?" "Notify the rest of the team to prepare for departure and prep the Quinn Jet for immediate take-off. Inform the team Y/N is experiencing an episode of PTSD and needs to be recovered before she is hurt or hurts anyone else." Bucky jogged down the hallway in the direction of the hangers but the usual sliding doors refused to open. "Sergent Barnes, the active Avengers were already alerted to Ms. Y/N's distress. The Satellite protocol is active. I suggest you wait for Director Fury's instruction." The AI had no sympathy and continued to hold Bucky back from the hanger. "The Hell is Satelite protocol?" Bucky shouted out as he punched his way through the door he kept pulling at. "I'm going after her Friday." "Satelite protocol initiates after any distressed outburst from Ms. Y/N. The United States Army and potentially the UN are notified of her presence. Stark and SHIELD satellites monitor Ms. Y/N's actions. Coercive force is not directed without Director Fury's explicit orders. I recommend you comply with the protocol Sergent. Refusal to do so can result in being detained by SHIELD and potential bodily harm. The last time Mr. Stark sought out Ms. Y/N in this state she blasted him out of the sky." "So I'm to do nothing?!" Bucky's voice boomed in anger to the AI speakers. "It is strongly recommended to follow the protocol. If you continue to damage property Sergent Barens, I will have no choice but to engage Soldier Down protocol." That was Bucky's distress protocol. After his first episode in the compound, Steve decided to build the procedures with Bucky. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging so hard he almost ripped strands out. Then he punched through a wall. Three hours later and Sam finally calmed Bucky down to a state where Friday lifted Soldier Down. Sam used his Stark Industries' tablet to show Bucky Y/N's exact location. No military bothered her as she flew all over the Pacific, then Atlantic ocean at near light speed. Around three in the morning, the party was completely over. Any drunk stragglers hung around the kitchen eating leftover pizza like each slice was a two hundred dollar meal. Bucky avoided them. After wandering the building and hiding in Y/N's room, he decided a walk on the nature trail would be nice. He grabbed a pullover and informed Friday he'd be back in an hour or less. When he stepped outside, the moon's glow shown over the compound. It radiated the top of the building like a spotlight. Bucky saw the outline of a figure huddled on the ledge of the roof. Concern washed over his body at the thought of someone jumping. More intense anxiety overcame him when he saw it was Y/N. Her feet dangled over the edge as her upper half clung in a tight embrace. "Y/N!" He hollered without concern for implications. Her head shot up from it's lowered state. He could see the white's of her eyes expand when her vision focused on him. "Stay there!" He called again. "I'll be up in a minute!" Bucky's jog back to the building was stopped by a thud directly in front of him. Y/N jumped from a seven-story building without so much as a stumble. Even a super-soldier couldn't do that. Immediately, a feeling of warmth rushed over Bucky. It was a chilly, now November, morning but the heat radiating off Y/N made it feel like July all over again. "Hey." She mumbled weakly. "Hey?" Bucky clasped his hands around the back of his neck, holding them in a fold as he paced. He didn't want his hands to eave around and hit her in his frustration. "You just jumped from a seven-story building to say hello? Do you know how hellish this night has been? You take off out of a window, and I don't even know that you have powers that can make you fly! Then everyone is partying on like this is an everyday occurrence- like you're some tomcat going for a stroll. No one takes off after you and I'm ordered to wait it out. You know how hard it is for me to not act..." Y/N placed a finger to Bucky's mouth and despite his desire to rip it away and hold his friend tight to his chest, he allowed it to linger there. "The music triggered a flashback and I slipped back into my memories. My PTSD kicked in and all I knew was that I needed to get out." She removed her finger and held his metal wrist. His flesh hand ran through his hair to calm himself. "I know it was an episode. I of all people know what they look like." "Come on," She tugged at his wrist. "Let's sit by the lake and talk." Y/N led Bucky down to a bench by the lake, along the trail. He studied her over the entire walk down. He remained hyper-concerned until she sat him down and swatted his forearm. He was confused until she pointed to his face. He then realized the scowl on his face. He “You’re not the only one with triggers.” Her head hung low with her hair veiling her face. It hid the distress that was so evident, it pulsed from her hands rubbing up her arms. “It hasn’t happened in over, god, I don’t know how long but the noises the DJ made sounded just like those on the Kree ship.” Bucky bit his lip in thought. He’d gone over her file numerous times. It mentioned her unique genetic makeup, extensive years of training, and assignment to Steve but nothing about a ship. He deduced whatever the experience was, it wasn’t voluntary. “What brought you to Shield?” She shifted uncomfortably against the concrete. “My father was a nuclear engineer. His great uncle was Dr. Erkinstein.” “The man who created the super-soldier serum.” Bucky thought aloud. That only went to confuse him more as it leads to further interwoven strings. “Mhm, Shield runs in the family. He wasn’t involved with any biological projects, but project Pegasus. I lived at home with my mom and my brother. She didn’t mind dad’s long work trips to secret military bases. It gave her full run of the house and time with her kids. But then she started to notice that I never got sick. When she and my brother got the flu, I was perfectly healthy. If I fell, I didn't break anything or have a skid mark. It wasn't always like that, but it became that way. So, my dad brought me with him to Shield to run tests. They found foreign DNA in my cells. They were in my mother and brother's gene pool too, but the on and off DNA codes were different. Essentially, my genes were mutated into activating; something no one had seen before." "But I don't understand. I know that mutations can bring new DNA into the gene pool, but how can DNA be foreign when the main difference between humans genetic code is the on and off switches?" Bucky understood that his scientific knowledge was lacking due to his years in Hydra captivity, but this was beyond him, and he thought himself nerdy when it came to science. "Because it's not from the human gene pool." Y/N swallowed hard. She tugged a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Bucky couldn't help but see her differently. It wasn't in a bad way, but like a new golden ray of light overtook her. "Thor isn't the first Asgardian to visit Earth. Just the first in a long time. Some came to Earth in a fight thousands of years ago, and again around 700 CE. They intermingled with the locals and had demigods as a result, and they had kids, who had kids, who had kids and the Asgardian DNA faded out. Then I came along, a happy genetic accident." Bucky shifted so he could glance back at the building. He thought of Thor and of Y/N, and the oddities he never noticed before. "That's what Thor means when he asks you to come home from the holidays." Y/N chuckled with a small but warm smile. The nostalgia of memories leaked off of her. "He thinks that having Asgardian in me, no matter how many generations apart, makes me an Asgardian and I should participate in Asgardian life. Before Thor's semi-permanent residence on Earth, I was the ambassador to Asgard. But Asgardian was only the first alien DNA in me." "Whaa...wait," Bucky was jumping to understand. "You can't add DNA to any creature, it all starts with the parent's gamete." "You would think that and on any test on Earth, you would receive credit for that answer. This didn't happen on Earth." Y/N sighed and she let her body collapse against Bucky. He recognized that defeat. He expressed the same look and exuded pain whenever he dived back into his unsavory memories. "It was unwise for Sheild to mess with the tesseract when they couldn't comprehend the full science behind it. My dad's team was able to activate it for a few minutes with catastrophic effects. I was ten." Again she sighed but kept her gaze up to the stars. "The energy coming off of it was unstable and it was killing everyone in the room. Everyone but me. I snuck in from the med bay during lunch. I really wanted my dad after all the tests and blood drawn for more tests. So when the tesseract went off, instead of burning my body, I absorbed the energy. In a desperate attempt to save everyone, I went towards the device and absorbed more and more of the energy along the way. I'll get these flashbacks of my dad shouting for me and it hurts me. In the moment, I had such a well of pride for myself because I was giving myself up for others. So I pushed through the last and strongest wave of energy to touch the tesseract. I had no plan to stop it, but I thought that I could clutch it to me and absorb all of the energy coming off of it until someone figured out how to stop it. Instead, a portal opened and I was taken through it without the tesseract. I was teleported into mid-space for several hours but I survived. Thor can do that too. But I admitted radiation from all the energy I absorbed and it attracted an incoming ship. There's a race called the Kree Empire and they're very advanced. They found me and transported me to a science ship. At first, I blatantly trusted them because these human-looking individuals were saving me from floating mid-space. I was ten and I was afraid of this big open void and they were saving me. What followed was nearly a year of nightmares. I underwent so many operations and procedures. I was exposed to different types of energy and substances. They injected me with things, cut into to me, and tested things on me. They ran inhumane tests on me. They wanted to make a weapon out of me. Kree, Skrull, and Celestial DNA were added to my system. It took a month for my body to fully implement the changes and they were painful. One day everything was too much. The tubes, the testing, the ugly bright light of the rooms, and I snapped. I emitted large amounts of energy and it tore the ship in half killing most of those aboard. The distress beacon was sent out and that's how Carol found me. She was previously a Kree captive, so when I told her my tale she went back in and extracted all the information they had on me. Even Banner can't deduce all of it. Some of the Asgardian healers could do the most, and they stabilized my body. That was after I returned to Earth for the first time. Carol came back every few months for the first six or so years after she saved me. She helped me hone in my powers and discover new ones along the way. She was the closest I had to someone with the same powers until Wanda came along. After a few days of being on Earth, Heimdal brought me to Asgard and Oden. He ordered the healers to help me and I trained there for a bit. I grew fond of Loki especially, and that's why refusing to help him conquer Eaarth pissed him off so much. It set his plan back. Anyway, I'd train there every few months. On Earth, I learned my dad and his team passed away due to radiation exposure. The last living member of the team passed away a few months after my return. That was Dr. Michelle. She was nice. She told me what I did saved the others in the facility. She said my dad would be proud of me. Director Furry became my legal guardian after that. He forged the case file so I was never there and he deleted Sheild's other files on my genetics and my family. I couldn't go home with the lack of control over my powers. That was reckless. So Furry created another identity for me to use with the government. I'm a ghost within the government. He and Maria Hill basically raised me within Sheild and I was a child recruit. It was strange growing up on top-secret military bases with people usually a decade or so older than me. It got easier when Coulson, Nat, and Clint joined. They really tried to make me enjoy my teen years. By sixteen, I was a special, but highly monitored agent. I met Tony shadowing Nat. When I met him, boy was it all over. As someone who also lost parents too young, he saw a lot of himself in me. Plus, I was nice to him when he was under house arrest. I actually bought him Starbucks. I visited his place more often and took to Peper as well. By the time I was eighteen, I moved out of Sheild facilities and into Stark Tower. I wanted to see the world and with my conditions, Tony had the resources to help me. He even helped me make it into MIT. I was a year into college when the invasion of New York happened. I met Steve a couple of months before that. During the invasion, we realized I hadn't reached the extent of my powers. As someone who understood suddenly inheriting powers, Steve took over training me with Stark tech enabling a better experience. I really pushed him out of his shell and he gave me some grounding even though he was the one out of time. Gradually, he and I worked on each other's PTSD to the point we both felt like we had it under control. Tonight, when the DJ began mixing the tracks and lacing in other sounds, it sounded too similar to the machines on the Kree ship. It triggered something I thought long buried and suddenly my life depended on getting out." Y/N turned her head up to catch Bucky's eyes gazing down at her. His lips went from a tight fold to a faded smile. It reassured Y/N. "I'm sorry that I worried you, but I couldn't help it." Bucky sighed deeply, and Y/N could feel the tingle of his breath on her nose. He snaked his arm around her shoulder and kept her against him. "I could never be angered or annoyed by your PTSD. I'd be a fucking hypocrite for it. It may be cliche, but I wish you'd told me sooner. I dump so much of my crap on you, I'd hope you'd feel you could do the same even if I have my fragileness." "I- I know." Y/N hummed to herself. "I know I said I relied on Steve to get over my PTSD, but I think at some point it changed. When I became a performer, I think Steve believed it meant I was healed. Something shifted, where he relied on me to be this cheery young woman and I didn't want to disappoint him. Part of me still lives in that mindset: I'm supposed to be happy and support everyone else; that's my job. It's not logical, but it's what I got." "I want you to know that you don't have to be perfect all the time with me Y/N. You can't be and don't have to be perfect in all your relationships. We support each other. That's how it works." Bucky shook Y/N's shoulder, jostling her until she began laughing at his goofiness. "Alright, alright!" She exclaimed between gasps of air. "I believe you! I believe you!" "Good!" He quipped. "Because I'm not a fan of scary things outside of work, even when it's Halloween." "Ugh, I did ruin Halloween!" Y/N lamented, then suddenly she pushed Bucky off and sprang to her feet. "We need to go watch Hocus Pocus to rectify it!" She then began to pull on Bucky. Honestly, she put enough strength in it to almost do something. Even that was nowhere near her real strength. "Fine, fine, fine." Bucky began to get himself off the concrete but Y/N was still pulling him. "Jeez woman, there's a body attached to that arm." "Well maybe if you'd move with some pep, I wouldn't have to pull your step!" It was clear the happy Y/N was returning. Bucky's happiness began to return as well. He had his partner in crime, as Sam called it, back. Bucky wanted to poke the beast Y/N could be; especially because he knew she was alright. "You know, it's November now. We shouldn't even watch Halloween movies anymore." "Ah!" Y/N turned back to scoff at Bucky in exaggerated discuss. "Halloween isn't a holiday James Buchanan Barnes, it's a state of mind and a lifestyle. Maybe you're not as cool as those of us..." Y/N continued to rant on with her bit and Bucky continued to fake his distress. In reality, when she turned away he had a grin plastered from ear to ear. After hours of fear and pain from her story, he finally had his girl back. He didn't realize it then, but that was the night his mindset shifted from seeing Y/N as a friend to his girl. He was devoted.

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A/N: Sorry for the hiatus! Let me know if you have any advise managing college and writing. Love you all!

So what did you think of the back story and the final paragraph? Should we see Y/N’s background with Steve sooner or later? Also, who likes holiday-themed chapters? Like, reblog, and comment if you can! My messages and asks are open!

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musicdanceswhenyousleep · 5 years ago

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MDWYS Favorites: Quarantine Edition

In a time when being a good citizen means staying at home and not involving yourself with society, what better way to spend your days than listen to a whole lotta ambient music? That is exactly what we have been doing and while a global pandemic is definitely a negative event, we are happy to finally have found the time to listen to all your submissions. Here are our four favorites.

Sterile Cuckoo ‘’Elysian’’

It is blissful to see that experimentation still takes place and more importantly - produces good music. Sterile Cuckoo, with their new album entitled ‘Elysian’ does just that. Sounds that are very different to box into a specific category, with unexpected elements popping out of nowhere to surprise the listener and yet altogether a very peculiar and pleasant musical endeavor - we can recommend this album to fans of everything from Bon Iver, through classical, to chill beat and beyond. Definitely our favorite of recent submissions.

Currently sold out on vinyl, but available for digital purchase and streaming over here:

https://sterilecuckoo.bandcamp.com/

Boi Borzoi ‘First Snow’ and ‘Blue Dunes’ (singles)

Quantity does not equal quality and with only two singles under his belt, Boi Borzoi is our second favorite in this round-up.

Boi Borzoi, who by the way wins the coolest artist name category, relies heavily on piano and suspense, intertwining the running keys with distant string sections and other airy sounds. Having listened to both ‘First Snow’ and ‘Blue Dunes’ we deduct that Boi Borzoi is likely both classically, as well as rhythmically trained - with elements of jazz being especially evident in ‘Blue Dunes’. Both singles - just like we love music to do - are really taking their time and not rushing anywhere, a characteristic that is almost sacred to the genre of ambient and chill and a characteristic well understood by Boi Borzoi.

Good work, in fact good enough for us to encourage you to make an album or at least an EP and when that’s done - send it over.

Listen to the two singles over here:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/78JJhYjd2J7r4Py5fUl6Lj?si=AGd_YxXEQJ6PJROJYPsazQ

Alessandro Penna ‘’Sol III’’ LP

By his own words Alessandro Penna is ‘’trying to give the listeners the sensation of fluctuation, the feelings of mystery, the feelings about the birth of biological life, the evolution of civilizations and the unknown in the universe’’.

We couldn’t have said it better ourselves. If any of you are looking to trip out to a distant galaxy where gravity is none and eternity is in your hand - ‘Sol III’ is your piece of cake. Metaphors aside, the album presents the listener with 10 tracks, most of them seven or eight minutes long, all of which are perfect for either meditation or a sleeping aid - and that’s a big compliment. While there is an abundance of music that tries to fit those scenarios, Alessandro Penna has a good an original take on it, the take being space and space only.

You can listen to ‘’Sol III’’ and other creations by the spacey Italian over here:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/2a2IhUxcm18U4aE3Bm69fm?si=ySUmsQx_TMu8XoOLX51OaQ

Webrov ‘’Who I Am’’ (chillout mix) / Single

Finally, we would like to end this feature on a more commercial note. A submission sent in from Ukraine has caught our ear with it’s simplicity and honesty. The single makes use of all elements you would expect in a track that has ‘chillout mix’ written next to it and we say that with appreciation to the artist.

Simple piano chords, a gentle female voice singing over it and a well-balanced soft beat coming in and out of the mix is what you get and it feels good!

Listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zOaudooPIDg

_________________________________________________

With that we are finishing our ‘Favorites: Quarantine Edition’ and wish you a nice stay at home and clean hands, now and after!

Love,

Music Dances When You Sleep (MDWYS)

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sapphic-sustrai · 5 years ago

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Team DMNO Bios: Melanie Hertz.

So, last time I shared the leader of DMNO Douglas Craig’s bio. It’s now time to talk about my yeehaw daughter, Melanie Hertz! If there are any errors, I will go back and fix them eventually.

Previous DMNO Bios:

Douglas Craig.

That being said, more will be underneath the cut.

Full Name: Melanie Celosia Hertz.

Alias: The Sizzlin’ Striker, The Monster Duo {an alias that she shares with Olwen, that was given to them by the Atlas Academy student body}.

Nickname{s}: Mel {used by everyone}, Melly {only used by Douglas}, Buttercup {only used by her father}, Annie {only used by Phlegon}, Flame Brain {only used by Douglas}, Blaze {only used by Olwen}.

Age: 18 {Vol. 1-3}.

Gender: Cis Female.

Race: Highland Cow Faunus, she has cow horns that curve upwards.

D.O.B/Star Sign: August 12th/Leo.

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Biromantic Demisexual.

Handedness: Right-handed.

Complexion: Tanned.

Height: 5’3 {160cm}, 5’6 {when wearing 3-inch heels}.

Weight: 115lbs {52kg}.

Cup Size: C-Cup.

Body Type: Pear body shape, short, athletic build, medium-length legs, strong leg muscles, small amount of muscle on her arms.

Hairstyle{s}:

Low-hanging braided pigtails, bangs side swept to the left side {Youth}.

Long-length style, tied into a high ponytail, bangs side swept to the left side {Vol. 1-3}.

Hair Colour{s}: As of right now, honey brown. When she was younger, she had much lighter hair, but it got darker as she got older.

Eye Colour: Hazel.

Aura Colour: Burnt Orange.

Emblem: An outline of a burning heart, with the bottom points separated and curved outwards like a cow’s horns and a miniature heart in the center. The burning heart outline is burnt orange and the miniature heart is honey orange.

Weapon{s}: Blazin’ Buckaroos.

Blazin’ Buckaroos are a pair of buckaroo-style cowboy boots, with a firing mechanism built into them {similar to Yang’s Ember Celica & Mercury’s Talaria}.

The Buckaroos are primarily beige, with honey orange fire designs etched in and mahogany brown bottoms. The branding iron soles are copper, with a rusty look. The spurs of her boots are bronze, with built in flint.

Alongside her kicks, she’ll primarily fire explosive rounds or streams of fire {almost like a flamethrower} from her boots.

Using fire dust, she can heat up the branding irons at the soles of her boots, causing her feet to become searing hot. Clicking the spurs at the back will ignite the boots completely, causing her boots to blaze up for a short amount of time. Combining these two elements is a deadly combination that adds tremendous fire power to Melanie’s kicks.

Dust can be inserted vertically into the two chambers located in the heels of her boots.

The boots are made with a fire-resistant leather.

Types of Dust Used: Primarily fire dust. However, she’ll sometimes use rock dust in tandem with fire, creating a magma element. She’ll also use air dust, allowing her to kick in order to jump higher into the air {it looks as if she’s walking on air}.

Other Equipment:

Dust Pouch {where she keeps her dust crystals and it’s kept on the right side of her belt. It is hickory brown}.

Fighting Style: Melanie’s fighting style is a combination of Savate {French foot fighting}, aggressive precise kicks, and grapples. Sometimes she’ll incorporate quick jabs as well.

Semblance: Engine Burst - A semblance that allows the user to develop engine-like protrusions made of aura that manifest around her calves. This grants the user increased speed and extra kicking power for a brief period of time. She can only use her semblance in short bursts, otherwise it will cause her legs to lock up for about a minute or two. There are three gears, First, Second & Third. First gear is the standard, Second will give a bit more of a boost, and Third is the semblance’s, “overdrive”, mode. As of right now, Melanie can only access the first two gears, but cannot access the third. She’s attempted once, but this caused her legs to lock up for 24 hours.

Other Skills, Talents, etc…

Vast knowledge of farm animals & how to take care of them.

Very athletic.

Has good driving skills, thanks to learning how to operate farm equipment at a young age.

Even without the use of her semblance, she’s the fastest member of her team on foot.

Current Affiliation: Atlas Academy

Previous Affiliation: Pharos Academy.

Place of Origin: Vale, in the agricultural district.

Current Occupation{s}: Student, Huntress-in-Training.

Team/Status: DMNO. Currently active, but will become inactive soon after the Fall of Beacon. Won’t be active again for quite some time.

Team Members: Douglas Craig, herself, Norbert Beaufort & Olwen Kunik.

Partner: Olwen Kunik.

Team Role: Melee DPS.

Status: Alive.

Positive Qualities: Optimistic, big-hearted {always willing to lend a hand to those who need it}, passionate, encouraging, nurturing, athletic, protective, daring.

Neutral Qualities: Stubborn, outspoken, dominating, assertive.

Negative Qualities: Impatient, hot-headed {impulsive & a bit reckless}, brash {in a noisy & overbearing way}, overconfident, blunt.

Likes:

Horseback riding.

Apple picking.

Being outdoors.

Knitting.

Going on hikes with friends.

Kickboxing.

Gardening {she loves growing vegetables & flowers specifically}.

Spending time with her niece.

Dislikes:

Green apples {she finds them too bitter}.

Ghosts {she has phasmophobia}.

People who talk trash about their families for no reason {however, she does understand if someone has a bad relationship with their parents}.

People who chew with their mouths open.

She’s not the biggest fan of romantic comedy movies.

She hates it when people make comments about her height.

Favourite...?

Food: Apples {red delicious are her favourite}, breakfast foods {ham & cheese omelettes, hash browns, peanut butter on whole wheat toast, bacon and pancakes are her favourites}.

Drink: Apple cider & orange juice.

Season/Weather: Autumn/sunny & slightly cloudy.

Colour: Marigold & hickory brown.

Animal: Horses.

Movie Genre: Thriller & action movies.

Music Genre: Country & hip-hop.

Relationships:

Ignatius Hertz:

Relationship: Biological Father, good overall, but he can be overprotective of her.

Status: Alive.

Melaina Chastain:

Relationship: Biological Mother, good.

Status: Deceased.

Phlegon Hertz:

Relationship: Biological Older Brother {by 8 years}, good.

Status: Alive.

Ashley Keen:

Relationship: Sister-in-Law, married to her brother, good.

Status: Alive.

Hestia Hertz-Keen:

Relationship: Niece, daughter of Phlegon & Ashley, good.

Status: Alive.

Hephaestus Hertz:

Relationship: Paternal Grandfather, good.

Status: Alive.

Melantha Chastain:

Relationship: Maternal Grandmother, good.

Status: Alive.

Brooke Mathers:

Relationship: Closest Friend, grew up next door to each other, good.

Status: Alive.

Norbert Beaufort:

Relationship: 2nd Closest Friend, teammate, good.

Status: Alive.

Olwen Kunik:

Relationship: Close Friend, partner, friendly rival, good overall, but sometimes Olwen has to reel her in when she gets, “intense”.

Status: Alive.

Douglas Craig:

Relationship: Close Friend, teammate, good overall, but they do clash often because of their differing personalities.

Status: Alive.

Team RWBY:

Relationship: Friends, good overall, gets along with Yang the best, gets along with Blake the least.

Status: Alive.

Team JNPR:

Relationship: Friends, good overall, gets along with Nora the best, gets along with Ren the least.

Status: Alive {Pyrrha’s alive in this AU}.

Penny Polendina:

Relationship: Friends, good.

Status: Alive, then deceased, then rebuilt and brought back to life.

Ilia Amitola:

Relationship: Friend, crush, they don’t meet until much later on.

Status: Alive.

Early Life {Backstory}:

Melanie was born and raised in the Kingdom of Vale, in the agricultural district.

She grew up on a ranch called, “Woolwood Meadows”, that primarily raises sheep for wool. The ranch was started by Melanie’s paternal grandfather years ago. Her grandfather also started up a forge on the property called, “Hertz Ironworks”.

For most of her life, it’s just been herself, her father Ignatius, and her older brother Phlegon. Ignatius attended Atlas Academy and soon joined the military after graduation. Eventually he decided to settle down with Melaina and take over the ranch from his father, Hephaestus. Phlegon has taken over the forge on the farm and lives on the property with his wife Ashley and their daughter Hestia. Phlegon will eventually inherit the farm when his father retires.

Melanie didn’t know her mother Melaina very well. Her mother passed away when she was around 3 years old. Melaina was a Huntress who sustained fatal injuries while out on a mission. Her death was unexpected and the family took it hard… especially Ignatius. From then onward, he became overprotective of both of his children.

Phlegon decided that he wanted to inherit the farm when he was older, so he wasn’t the one he had to worry about as much. His worry over his son disappeared over time. Melanie on the other hand has always wanted to become a Huntress just like her mother… that worried Ignatius beyond belief and he continued to worry over his daughter’s safety.

It took plenty of convincing and begging from Melanie for Ignatius to allow her to attend a combat school. However, he wanted her to attend a school that was close to home and she would have to call him every weekend to let him know how she’s doing. So, Melanie decided to attend Pharos Academy.

When it came time to pick the next academy that she’d be attending, Melanie wanted to attend Atlas, but her Father wanted Melanie to attend Vale instead because it was closer. This caused the two of them to have the biggest argument that they’ve ever had and they didn’t speak to each other for about a week.

Phlegon stepped in and got the two of them to talk to each other. Ignatius finally opened up about how losing his wife made him fear about what could happen to his children if they weren’t careful. Melanie understood where her father was coming from, but that was no excuse for how he was treating her. Melanie finally told her family that the reason why she wanted to become a huntress was because she wanted to use her strength to protect those that couldn’t protect themselves. She also says that she wants to attend Atlas because it was the school that her father attended in his youth. She states that her two biggest inspirations in her life are her mother & father, that they’re the ones that inspire her to do what’s right.

Ignatius reconciled with his daughter and promised that he was going to try and ease up on his over protectiveness. He supported his daughter’s decision to attend Atlas and Melanie promises that she’ll call home every single weekend to check in. Not because she was instructed to, but because she wants to.

Primary Attire {Youth}:

Baggy Button Up Shirt {honey orange, top two buttons left unbuttoned, long sleeved but they’re rolled up halfway}.

Plain Shirt {daisy white, crew neck, long sleeved}.

Denim Overall Shorts {Blue, with gold buckles, a heart outline was sewn into the front flap}.

Shortie-Style Cowboy Boots {mahogany brown}.

Atlas Academy Uniform:

Melanie pretty much wears the standard Atlas Academy girl’s uniform. The only exception is that she wears her cowboy hat with the uniform.

Primary Attire {Vol. 1-3}:

Bull Rider Cowboy Hat {straw, with a mahogany brown hat band, brim & chin strap, usually wears it whenever it’s hot outside or during battle, when not in use it hangs on her back from the adjustable chin strap around her neck}.

Button-up Blouse {orange & brown plaid, first three buttons are left unbuttoned, short sleeved}.

Henley Shirt {daisy white, top two buttons left unbuttoned, sleeves cut off halfway}.

Leather Horseback Riding Gloves {hickory brown}.

Leather Belt {mahogany brown, with a gold belt buckle, dust pouch hangs from the right side of the belt}.

Denim Dungarees {brown, with mahogany brown straps, gold buckles, with belt loops, her emblem is on the front, the front is left open on the right side, while the right strap hangs from her side, she moves the right strap back on her shoulder during fights, pant legs are always tucked into her boots, 100% flame resistant}.

When not wearing the Blazin’ Buckaroos, she wears a pair of carpenter boots {hickory brown, with beige laces}.

Other Notes About Appearance:

Has dimples.

She doesn’t have a tattoo yet and is still trying to decide what she’d want.

Used to have her ears pierced as a child, hasn’t re-pierced them in a while.

Has a burn mark on her left calf. She was around 10 years old and there was an incident where she accidentally burned herself.

If She Had a Voice it Would Be: Cassandra Lee Morris.

Misc. Trivia:

Melanie’s reasons for making her weapon a pair of cowboy boots was not only because of her fighting style, but also because she finds them very comfortable to wear. She has around 10 pairs of cowboy boots in her closet at home.

On the ranch the family deals with sheep, alpacas and goats. However, each member of the family owns a horse, Melanie’s is named Autumn. There are also the three dogs named Bramble, Hazel & Maize. All of the dogs are Border Collies. Finally, there are the three barn cats named Pumpkin, Butternut & Big Max. All of the cats are all tabby, except for Butternut who’s a Maine Coon.

Melanie can play the fiddle, the banjo, and the guitar. She prefers playing acoustic guitars more than electric because It fits her style more.

She speaks with a strong Southern accent. When talking to someone that she likes {whether it’s platonic or romantic}, she’ll often refer to them as, “Sug”, which is basically the short form of sugar.

Aside from becoming a Huntress, other careers that Melanie has thought about pursuing were professional kick boxer, physical therapist or firefighter.

Melanie’s last name Hertz is derived from the German word herz meaning, “heart”, and was used as a nickname for a big-hearted person. Melanie and most members of her family are often described as some of the most big-hearted individuals in all of Remnant.

Melanie never skips leg day.

That’s all that I have for Melanie right now! Any comments or critiques would be greatly appreciated and my askbox is always open! I’m thinking that I’ll be posting the next member of DMNO Norbert’s bio in the next few days or at least by next weekend. I’ll be posting again soon, so keep your eye out for it!

#rwby #rwby oc #team dmno #melanie hertz

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namjuicyy · 6 years ago

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Three’s A Crowd - Chapter Ten [FINAL]

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut.

Genre of this part: Smut, fluff.

Word Count: 1.2k.

Summary: Your childhood friend shows you a whole new world, but no one expected what came afterwards.

Warnings: None.

1 year and 6 months you had waitedfor your seven men to come home. You missed them so much, and though they weren'ttoo far away, and were just a phone call away, it was still tough to be awayfrom them for so long. Thankfully, your job at Big Hit was still intact. All thathappened was that you'd been transferred to TXT's team so you could translatefor them. It was nice to spend time with them, and be around when their firsttour was being planned. It was only around Asia, but it was still their firsttour and they were incredibly excited for it. And, despite Bangtan being home fromenlistment, you were still partially working for TXT.

Rarely, you woke up wrapped up in the arms of your men. Their legs intertwined with yours, and their arms draped over your body. Jimin was spooning you as he used to, while Yoongi had you tucked into his chest. You had them breathing in your ear as you were all buried underneath the covers holding each other like you last did a few months ago when they had the night off. The sheets crumpling underneath their movements, combined with Yoongi smacking his lips was like music to your ears. And you were beyond grateful to hear it.

You wanted to wake them up. You wanted them to spend the whole day with you. Maybe not even leave the bed. Just stay intertwined like this and mumble conversations and breathe in each other's scents. But, at the same time, you didn't want to wake them knowing that they'd had a tough few months and deserved this lie in.

"Stop watching me sleep." Yoongi mumbled at a whisper. "It's weird."

Yoongi seemed to have a sixth sense, and it was so strange to you just how well he knew you. "Maybe."

"I'm right."

You leaned forward and kissed him gently. "Never."

He sighed when you pulled away, his heavy eyes opening to look at you properly. "Wake him up would you?"

You nodded and turned over carefully, making sure not to wake him up prematurely. When you were in the prime position, you began peppering Jimin's sleeping face with playful kisses. You felt his hands wrap around your waist, and a giggle forcing it's way up from his throat, dancing in your ears. He tried to push you off of him. Tried. But he didn't really want you to disappear. "Okay," he laughed, "I'm awake. I'm awake." His chocolate eyes looked at you, and his one hand ran up and down your back underneath your pyjamas. "Though, I shouldn't be."

There was a comfortable silence for a short while before Yoongi spoke. "I want you both to meet my family." He said. "As my partners."

The sound of seriousness set in, both you and Jimin knowing where this was going. Western culture meant that meeting your partner's family was a serious affair, yes, but it didn't really mean anything. But families in Korea were only brought into the relationship when their relative knew that their partner was the one. Parents didn't meet every partner – only the last one. Which is why the aura of seriousness was brought down upon the pair of you. Yoongi was, in your eyes, pre-proposing to you both. In the world of romantic relationships, of course.

"Don't look so scared," Yoongi laughed, "they won't bite you. Though if I put on any more weight, Mum might confuse me for a dumpling again." Yoongi's joke broke the tension in the room, and ultimately you agreed to the meeting. As did Jimin, who reminded both of you that it was pointless meeting his parents because it had already been done.

Yoongi's parents were quite different to Jimin's. Even to yours. They weren't as obviously happy-go-lucky, nor did they welcome you immediately into the home with open arms. Of course, like all of your parents, they had reservations about the relationship at first. But when they actually saw the three of you together, they loosened up and became supportive. Almost too enthusiastic, perhaps more than your own parents. By the time you were leaving, his mother was already mentioning weddings and grandchildren. "Heaven knows Jungi won't be doing it any time soon."

"Mum." Yoongi moaned. As did his brother.

"What? Now there's hope for baby Mins...Parks..._______s. Whatever you decide. Just know, I want grandkids."

Yoongi leaned forward and gave his mother a kiss goodbye. "Goodbye, mum."

"I'm not getting any younger, you know!"

Yoongi was very red by the end of that meeting, lovingly embarrassed by his family but in no way ashamed of their abrasive nature. He loved them with all his heart, and truth be told he envisioned a future with the two of you. Getting an apartment of your own one day, just the three of you. You swollen with his children, and Jimin's too, with matching rings on your fingers and yours glistening every time you touched your baby bump.

It took him a year extra to accomplish his wants. You proposed to them, surprisingly. The three of you lay on the banks of the Han river and it just came out of your mouth. You couldn't stop it.

"That's a bit illegal, Angel." Jimin had told you, teasingly.

"Yeah, I know. But it doesn't have to be legal. On official documents we won't be married. But we'll have the rings, and the ceremony. And we'll introduce each other as husbands and wife."

They agreed to it without even thinking. They knew this would become a scandal if people found the plans or the pictures, but it would be worth it just so you could marry.

It was quite a western wedding, with only family and close friends turning up, as opposed to the 500+ that Korean weddings could have. And it lasted the whole day, too. You had Taehyung officiate, mainly sharing stories about the three of you and crying at the end when you all kissed on another and hugged. You wore a white dress, something sort of traditional. While Yoongi wore a black suit and Jimin wore a white one also. White always looked good on your Chim-Chim.

"We ended up having four children. We never found out who was the biological father." Yoongi said. "We never needed to."

"Bongcha, our eldest. Our first little princess." Jimin continued.

"Youngjae came next." You announced.

"Followed by Sungjoon, then our maknae Kwangson."

"Three boys." Yoongi stated proudly.

"And a girl!" You scolded.

"The smartest of the bunch."

"The strongest, too." Jimin commented.

"Bongcha had two children." You continued. "Youngjae had three; Sungjoon had one and Kwangson's expecting his fifth."

Jimin nodded. "Bongcha had her eldest younger than we did. Her beautiful, smart, funny," he stood up and made his way over to the interviewer, standing behind her and pinching her cheeks, "silly, baby little Jisoo." He kissed Jisoo's cheek and chuckled when all of her colleagues did.

"Jiminie-ah," Yoongi whined, "you're embarrassing her."

"He's not, Grandpa Yoongi." Jisoo said.

"Well he's embarrassing me."

Jimin straightened up and moaned. "Ooh, me back."

"That's what happens when you terrorise our granddaughter!" You joked.

"What kind of grandpa would I be if I didn't huh?"

Jimin walked over to his lovers of fifty years and kissed them both. "I'm so in love with you."

"As are we to you."

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lechevaliermalfet · 7 years ago

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Rise, and Escape – A Long Look at Breath of Fire: Dragon Quarter

Quick note: This deep dive write-up was originally posted elsewhere in May of 2015. I’m polishing it for reposting here. In addition, for those interested, a while back I recorded a podcast-type thing for a project called Pause Menu Monologues, which was being done by an acquaintance of mine. Said monologue was derived from a cut-down version of this effortpost. For those interested, you can listen to that here. Now, on to the main event.

As I prepare to leave my current job for another with far better opportunities, it feels tremendously appropriate to talk yet again about a game premised almost entirely on the idea of escape.

I’ve written about Breath of Fire: Dragon Quarter before, but it was requested that I write about it again. It was @squeemcsquee making the request, so I listened more than usual. I’m sure I’ll probably wind up saying a lot of the same things I said on the first go-‘round, but who knows?

Well, here’s something I didn’t say before this writing: When I first introduced her to Dragon Quarter, she got into it. Really into it. Given her relative inexperience with Japanese role-playing games, this was surprising to me; it’s so different from the usual run of JRPGs, especially as the genre stood in about 2003 or so when the game first came out. Contrarian that I am (at times), that’s part of what endeared it to me. But as she pointed out, the things that made it seem out of the ordinary to me meant very little to her. She didn’t have much “ordinary” to compare it against.

Unfortunately, watching her play it made me want to play it also. Part of this is the natural (and deeply unfortunate) backseat-driving instinct I have whenever I’m watching someone do something that I’m familiar with, but feel they could be doing better, and in fact, if they’d just let me have the controller for a few minutes, I could show them exactly how… But part of it was also just that seeing the game played really made me want to be playing it myself. This presented a problem, what with us having only the one copy. It led to arguments. Not, like, real arguments, but not exactly cutesy fun arguments, either. We did, at the time, have both a working PlayStation 2 and a backward-compatible PlaySation 3, so it was only owning just the one copy of the game that was really a problem. So the solution was pretty simple.

That’s how good it is. Dragon Quarter: The game so nice, we bought it twice.

Technically, we only bought the game once. I bought it when it first came out, back in early 2003. I played it for a while, and while it was pretty to look at, and it had good music, and the setting was interesting, it just didn’t come together for me. Despite this, I had no desire to trade it in. I had the feeling I was onto something good, though I couldn’t quite grasp it at the time.

I hadn’t had much experience with the Breath of Fire series then. I owned a copy of Breath of Fire IV, which was really the first game in the series that I even tried to tackle seriously. Having unwillingly skipped over the 16-bit generation (owning a TurboGrafx-16 and five games hardly counts), my impression of the series at that time could basically be described as “like Final Fantasy, only not quite as inventive”. It perhaps wasn’t a fair assessment, but I was basing this on the opinions of friends and acquaintances; I was unable to draw my own conclusions. Still, I liked Breath of Fire IV well enough, even outside of some positive personal associations, so I hung on to Dragon Quarter, feeling relatively certain that one day, I would get the itch to try it again.

As it happened, I did, a couple years down the line. The story and the characters were calling to me, and this time, everything finally clicked.

It probably helped that, around that time, I was beginning to become aware that JRPGs as a genre were becoming (or more likely, always had been) deeply conservative in terms of design, as well as character and story archetypes. Realistically, this has probably been the case since the days of the original Dragon Quest, Final Fantasy, and Phantasy Star. But I got into these types of games in late 1998 with Final Fantasy VII; I was new to the genre in those days, so even things that were rote and by-the-numbers were fresh and new to me then. And in fairness, I’ve enjoyed a number of these types of games. But by this time, I found myself wanting games in the genre to branch out and do something new. So many of the mechanical mainstays of the genre, the “traditions” of JRPG design, began life as frankly clunky workarounds for technology that wasn’t really up to giving us a less abstract simulation of the expected features of a fantasy adventure: travel, exploration, fighting monsters, finding treasure, getting new and more powerful gear, and saving the world and any number of princesses. If you wanted to simulate all of these things on older hardware, you had to have a certain amount of abstraction. So you had your turn-based battles, your random encounters, and so on, and so forth.

By the PS2 era, the technology was rapidly growing beyond the need to adhere to these ancient abstractions for any reason other than nostalgia’s sake. It had been doing this for some time – Chrono Trigger jettisoned random encounters back in the mid-90s, but despite the universal acclaim that game received, no one seemed terribly interested in implementing any of its innovations elsewhere. Developers were, by and large, unwilling to grow out of those old ways. In part this might be down to the reluctance of their audience (or at least a very vocal portion of it) to part ways with those same traditions. But whatever the reason, the result was the same: stagnation. Or so it felt to me.

I wanted something that was different from the JRPGs I’d played before. Something that still offered the thought and planning that went into playing an RPG of any kind, something with a good story and interesting characters, but which went off the beaten path and did something different.

And so, in late 2004 or maybe early 2005, two years after I originally bought it, tried it, and hung it up for the foreseeable future, I started playing Breath of Fire: Dragon Quarter again.

It’s an odd beast, this game, even when you look at it in the context of its own series. All the more so, really. The earliest Breath of Fire games got compared to the 8- and 16-bit Final Fantasy games, at least by most of the people I knew back then. Really, a more apt comparison would be to Dragon Quest, but I hadn’t played any of those games, and I was part of a group of friends who oddly lacked much experience with that series, so maybe nobody was in a position to make that particular comparison. With most of my friends, Dragon Quest (then known as Dragon Warrior due to trademark issues; I feel so old sometimes) was always “That game where you grind for hours and hours and then you finally say ‘fuck this!’ and go do something else, maybe play Final Fantasy or go outside or something, I dunno”.

Anyway, the whole series up to this point had been pretty standard high-fantasy fare, with the unique selling point being the main character’s ability to transform into a dragon. Most of the game mechanics beyond this were pretty straightforward. My experience with the series at large was pretty much limited to some time spent on the fourth game, and some time spent goofing off with ROMs of the first two out of idle and quickly satisfied curiosity.

One other consistent feature of the series is that the main character, the aforementioned dragon-transforming person, is always a young blue-haired swordsman named Ryu, and there is always a blonde, winged young lady named Nina who typically focuses on magic. Additional characters tend to be of all shapes, sizes, and species.

Dragon Quarter, by contrast, occurs in a future dystopia where humankind, having pretty much destroyed the environment through the use of biologically engineered weapons called dragons, has retreated to a single subterranean dwelling called Sheldar. There, they survive as best they can.

In this society, everyone is given a rank, called a D-ratio. On the surface of things, this ratio is a measure of one’s current ability and future potential, and places limits on their social standing, the kinds of jobs they can hold, places they can live, and overall determining just exactly how high they can rise in the world, figuratively and literally.

“Low-Ds”, that is, people with low D-ratios, live further down in this habitat. The air is worse, people’s lifespans are shorter, and there are occasionally monsters called genics that roam around down there. The people with high D-ratios live closer to the surface where the air is better and things are generally less dangerous. A nice touch is that, especially in cut scenes, the game is literally more hazy and grimy, visually, the further down you are. As you go up, the environments gradually become clearer and brighter. It happens bit by bit, so you may not notice it the first time through, but if you finish the game and start over again, the difference stands out.

One of the few story beats to be preserved is our hero: Ryu. Here, he’s a low-D ranger, whose job mainly seems to involve security and hunting down genics. His D-ratio is abysmally low: 1/8,192. His current job is the very highest he can hope to achieve. He’s partnered with another young man named Bosch, D-ratio 1/64. While Ryu is effectively at the very limit of how far he can rise in the world, Bosch is only at the beginning. A D-ratio as high as his means he can potentially qualify to become a Regent, one of the four rulers of this underground world. Bosch is basically just paying his dues here. He’s friendly enough to Ryu, in a condescending sort of way, which Ryu mostly just shrugs off. What else is he going to do?

While reporting for an assignment with Bosch, Ryu succumbs to a brief fugue, in which he has a vision. He sees the decaying remains of a giant dragon spiked to a wall. Despite clearly being dead, the dragon seems to talk to Ryu, mind-to-mind, though what it says to him makes virtually no sense at the time. Not long after, Ryu comes across the real thing, though it is very visibly dead and inanimate.

A terrorist attack splits up Ryu and Bosch, and shortly thereafter, Ryu runs into this game’s version of Nina, as well as a member of the resistance movement Trinity, named Lin. She seeks Nina for her own – or rather Trinity’s – purposes. The three form an unlikely but highly effective team. But allying himself with these two has its consequences, and by the time Ryu and Bosch reunite, circumstances have made them into enemies. Bosch is a good fighter, and he has plenty of allies with him, but Ryu refuses to betray his new comrades. Thankfully, his encounter with the dragon was no mere dream or hallucination. Unbeknownst to him, it has bestowed him with awesome power… and a deadline.

With every passing moment, the monstrous dragon power lurking within Ryu grows more prominent, threatening to overcome him. While Ryu is in control, he can transform into a bestial form capable of slaughtering even bosses within just a couple of rounds of combat. But drawing on that power accelerates its progress in overtaking him.

And so, with all hands turned against him, Ryu, Lin, and Nina have ultimately just a single option: Escape.

One of the things that I like about Dragon Quarter – one of many, many things – is the way that the game’s more prominent mechanics and its story are so closely intertwined.

The dragon power bestowed upon Ryu early into the game isn’t just a narrative device or story element, coming out only when dramatically convenient. It’s also a game mechanic, in the form of what the game calls a D-counter. This is a number, a percentage, that appears in the corner of the screen. As you play, it slowly ticks up toward 100 in intervals of a hundredth of a percent. Everything you do in the game causes it to increase. Everything. Every 24 or 25 steps will cause it to increase by one interval. Later in the game, this happens every dozen steps or so. Ryu’s special D-dash ability, which allows him to avoid enemy combat, causes it to tick up faster. Transforming, all by itself, raises the counter, and any actions taken while transformed increase it by whole-number percentages. It is literally overpowered. What I mentioned about crushing bosses in just a couple of turns was not hyperbole. I’ve done it. It’s basically my end-game strategy.

There is no way to drop the counter. Ever. There are no items, no spells, no techniques which will allow you to reset it or undo any of its progress. It just sits up there in the corner, slowly increasing and glowing ever more furiously as the number grows. The tension between the temptation to use it whenever you’re in a bind and the punishing consequences of that use can be exquisite.

When I first heard Dragon Quarter described as a survival-horror RPG, it didn’t make sense to me. But that’s mainly because I associated the mechanical elements of most of the survival-horror games I’d played with the more thematic elements of horror. And there are horrific moments and images in Dragon Quarter; the world of the game is not a happy place, and its maintenance is not easily or cleanly done. But that horror is mainly a consequence of the world-building; it’s not the point of the game.

The key here, I think, is the word “survival”. You might more accurately call Dragon Quarter a survival-RPG, except it’s basically the only one of its kind that I know of. It’s kind of hard to wrangle a whole genre out of that.

At their heart, survival-horror games generally “work” based on two principles.

The first is the fragility of the player character relative to other types of games, and relative to the enemies within the game. You are not the hero of a more action-oriented game, who can take maybe a dozen sword strokes straight to the face and just keep going, or who can withstand a hail of gunfire and duck behind cover for a few seconds while your shields recharge. Here, the player is reduced to a much more even footing with the enemies. Every bit of damage taken is a significant setback that needs to be planned around, either to prevent it or to deal with it when it happens. Every attack must be calculated. This is because of the second principle, which is resource management.

The in-game resources, both those which you use to preserve yourself and those you use to eliminate your enemies, are finite. So they must be spent wisely, frugally. Because of this, you are constantly required to take a measured, careful approach to any situation. You can never just blithely wander around; to do so invites disaster twice over. In the short term, you risk serious harm, leaving yourself vulnerable to future threats. In the long term, if you come out of the situation relatively unscathed, it’s generally at some expense of resources, leaving you ill-prepared for future encounters. Carelessness becomes indistinguishable from suicide.

This puts pressure on the player to play extremely well at all times by punishing mistakes immediately and brutally. As a result, some of the typical elements of JRPGs are missing.

There are no healing spells or techniques. All healing – whether restoring health or curing negative status effects – is accomplished by way of expendable (and frequently pricey) items. And you have to consider how often (if at all) you’ll be using some of these items, because inventory space is limited, and multiple items of a single type don’t “stack” very much before requiring another inventory slot. And, naturally, the usual economics of JRPGs are in full effect. Whatever you get for selling an item is a pitiful fraction of what it costs you to buy.

The game offers you the ability to use bait and traps to lure enemies into a position of compromise and get the drop on them, but even these need to be used sparingly. There’s hardly enough for every encounter.

Interestingly, the game knows exactly how difficult it is, and gives you something of a way around the problem.

As with most RPGs of any kind, Japanese or otherwise, you earn experience points, new equipment, and new abilities as you go through the game. In addition, Dragon Quarter also gives you what’s called Party XP. Basically, this is experience you can dole out to party members as you like to boost their levels.

Should you find yourself in a situation where you can’t progress without either having your party wiped or running the D-counter up to 100% (which, if it hasn’t become obvious by now, is an instant Game Over), you have the option to do what’s called a SOL Restart. This restarts the game from the beginning, but lets you keep all the equipment and skills you’ve learned, as well as any Party XP you still have. This gives you get a fresh start while retaining your improved gear, and the Party XP lets you give yourself a boost in the early stretches.

There’s also an option to restore a previous hard save along these same lines. Dragon Quarter allows “soft” saves anywhere, but these are temporary by design. Once loaded, these saves disappear. There are only a few “hard” save points, from which you can restore at will, and to which you will be returned with a SOL Restore.

If this sounds ridiculous for what is typically a long-form type of game, it may help to understand that Breath of Fire: Dragon Quarter is only about eight to ten hours long from start to finish on a single play through, once you know what you’re doing. Even with a couple of full-blown restarts, you’ll be spending no more time on Dragon Quarter than any other game from the same time period. Less, probably.

Writing this now, I just about want to say that Breath of Fire: Dragon Quarter was Dark Souls before Dark Souls really existed. There’s a certain similarity in that both games are more difficult than usual while still being relatively fair, and in the expectation that you will die, probably more than once, and that rather than being a tragedy, it’s simply an instructive part of the experience. Or in the case of Dragon Quarter, you’ll experience (probably more than once) a situation in which death is basically a given should you continue, and the smart thing would be to cut your losses and restart.

Dragon Quarter’s infliction of pressure extends even to the representation of the game’s characters and world.

Most characters have a skinny, almost emaciated appearance. Part of this is simple stylization, of course, but it still contributes to the overall effect. These people live a thin and narrow existence, it says, devoid of the expansive pleasures humankind was meant to enjoy. There is a grimness and a quiet desperation underlying it all.

The world itself is a fucking hole. Corridors in the lower areas are littered with random junk and debris; it’s best not to think what it might all actually be. The air is hazy and grimy, and things have a sort of cobbled-together look that just makes the whole place look cramped and dingy and uncomfortable. In these lower areas, everything looks like it’s about one stern look away from falling right apart. The upper areas are cleaner, more solid, but can seem so sterile and strictly designed as to be hostile. Dragon Quarter does a wonderful job of creating a world you want to get the hell out of as soon as you can.

It’s ironic, really. Most games, I play to escape from the troubles and stresses in my life. And most games oblige this desire. Even the ones that take place in barren wastelands tend to take place in gorgeously rendered barren wastelands that encourage you to examine every carefully tailored nook and cranny. They’re an invitation to exploration and adventure, and are “barren” or “waste” only as a matter of aesthetics.

But limitation and escape are the central themes in this game, and a world in which such themes are explored must be more than a background or a prop.

The world is limited in its size; an RPG with little to no detectable exploration, comprised mainly of tunnels and rooms, and a single clear direction and objective at all times. The player's inventory of supplies is likewise limited, in keeping with the surival horror influence. The player is frequently required to prioritize, and ditch whatever they aren't likely to use based on their play style. Care must be taken by the player to work within these limits.

Narratively speaking, the story also explores the idea of limitations. Ryu himself embodies these limits. His D-ratio is among the lowest of the low. His place in society, the ways in which he can define and express himself, how he can live – all of these things have strict limits placed on them. And this dragon entity, Odjn… As much as it much as it appears to be the key to his salvation, as much as it empowers him to break all barriers and overcome or destroy all opposition, it limits him as well. It puts a countdown on his life, ticking down the hours he has left until... well, until whatever horrific thing might happen when Odjn gains total control and breaks free.

And in the end, the characters decide to break free of these limits placed on them by the world by breaking free of the world itself, to smash through the ceiling of it and see once and for all what lies beyond its narrow, choking confines.

Dragon Quarter is a game about escape.

Ultimately, this is a large part of what interests me about the story of Dragon Quarter, what keeps me coming back. Rather than a big, trampling save-the-world epic, it’s about a group of characters who just want out. This is a smaller story, a “tiny tale of time”, as the game itself tells us in its opening narration. It’s huge in its implications for its world and its characters. It’s great in the scope of the ideas it asks its characters to contemplate. (It flirts with Gnosticism, which immediately grabs my interest). It that sense, at least, it does involve the end of the world, in one way or another. But the scale is smaller, and the characters strike me as being more real because of it.

Ryu, Lin, and Nina don’t want to fight anybody. There’s at least one memorable occasion where Ryu, surrounded by enemies, asks why they can’t just let him and his friends go. The character animations in Dragon Quarter aren’t spectacular, but they get the job done here. There’s something about the way that Ryu asks his question that seems to have layers. On one layer, he seems mentally, psychologically exhausted from the strain of all the fighting, and the toll all the deaths he’s dealt out has taken on him. On yet a deeper layer, he seems equally exhausted from fighting the thing inside him that threatens to take over and destroy him.

They aren’t trying to harm anybody. And it seems reasonable just to let them go, on the one hand. But on the other, there is the major problem that letting Ryu and company out of this subterranean pit will completely upend the social order – will end this idea of the world – purely as a side-effect of his escape. Because the underlying problem with Ryu’s world is a variant on the same problem that keeps people in dead-end jobs and abusive relationships long beyond the point when, logically, they should be getting out.

Fear.

The world of Dragon Quarter is, as previously stated, an absolute, utter shithole in purely objective terms. Even the people in charge don’t seem to be enjoying themselves much. And it’s because everyone seems to be in unspoken agreement that even if the current circumstances are awful, at least they’re familiar awful circumstances. It’s possible that things are better on the surface, but it’s just as possible that they aren’t. It’s just as possible that they’re far worse. This, at least, is the devil we know.

Even one of the main villains, the ruler of this subterranean nightmare, is ruled by fear. A thousand years before the story proper, he was given the opportunity to open this world to the surface. But he backed down. In his fear that the world above might still be the barren wasteland people left ages ago, he turned back at the final moment, sentencing himself and everyone in the underground to remain in it indefinitely.

There’s an anime I like quite a bit – it’s probably my favorite, really – called Revolutionary Girl Utena, and in it there is a bit of dialogue that is recited so often it’s practically a ritual. It goes like this:

“If it cannot break out of its shell, the chick will die without ever being born. We are the chick. The world is our egg. If we don’t crack the world’s shell, we will die without ever truly being born. Smash the shell, for the world revolution.”

This is actually a paraphrase from the Hermann Hesse novel Demian: The Story of Emil Sinclair’s Youth (usually just known as Demian), in which it’s put this way:

“The bird struggles out of the egg. The egg is a world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird then flies to God. That god’s name is Abraxas.”

To go up, to go out, to rise, to escape: This is an act of tremendous faith.

#breath of fire dragon quarter #breath of fire #dragon quarter #rpg #jrpg #video game #deep dive #effortpost #longpost #gnosticism-lite

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pack-the-pack · 7 years ago

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But Why Omegaverse of All Things??!

Okay so, recently some minor conversation sparked because of one of my posts regarding omegaverse, and why is it a thing and why it’s so popular. I even talked briefly with one of the people curious about it. Therefore, I decided to give some insight and explanations(?) to maybe why this is the case, once and for all. Obviously, I can’t speak for anyone but myself, however I’ll take the liberty to make suppositions about what might have brought people to like it. So if you feel like you don’t agree with something or the reason behind why you’re into this flaming pile of trash with us is not explained here, feel free to add on to it. After all this is just my humble perspective.

{Where and When it started?}

Well Wikipedia says it all started around 2010 with the one, the only, the massive: Supernatural Fandom. But really this is kind of a trick question, cause Omegaverse didn’t “start” anywhere. Those who have been in the Star Trek fandom might recognise terms like “Pon Farr” and “mating bond”, and those have been around longer than the 2010′s. And these have a striking similarity (if not the same stuff) you might find in ABO works. There are ABO fics dated even before said dates, do it’s not a exactly a precise date we’re looking at here. So yeah, it doesn’t have a clear starting point, and with good reason. We can’t pinpoint it’s origins because ABO it’s a collective of various different aspects drawn from many different places at the same time. We don’t have any set rules to what is and what’s not Omegaverse. You have elements of lycanthropism, sex pollen, vampirism, wolf pack dynamics, mpreg, scenting, soul mating, knotting, etc. The whole shabam! But really no one agrees in anything. We all just have this abstract universal understanding of what Omegaverse is and what is not. The elements present can be tossed in and out without harming the concept in the slightest. It can have all or just a few elements mentioned above and it would be just as valid.

Granted, the “modern version” we know today become more popular and well stablished around 2014/2015 ‘til the current year. And why did this happen?

{Projection}

We are living in very turbulent times recently. Be it in the realm of politics or… yeah politics. But regardless it’s undeniable that some things are changing, be it for the worse or for the better on your perspective one thing is true and will always be: Once shit starts to hit the fan we like to sit in the corner for a while and project our feelings into something. Usually this outlet is fantasy and imagination, which leads to ABO… somehow. “Okay but why daheck Omegaverse of all things?” as the title of this post inquires. Cause let’s be honest, Omegaverse sure is weird. I think (and again this is just my OPINION) it’s because Omegaverse can get you out of the “normally perceived” human world and toss you into something that is different from your reality but still similar enough that you can project your thoughts into. And things don’t “change” in this world, is all kinda the same every time. Omegas are Omegas, Betas are Betas, and Alphas are Alphas. Regardless of gender, of class, of economics, of society, of anything. These things don’t change. And it might give us a false sense of security to look at a society and an entire world where things have a sense of certainty. Yah know… unlike real life.

{Simulation}

Trying to understand how the world works and why B is B and not C is what humans do best and what we have been doing for as long as we can remember. So when you say “Alphas are X, Y and Z” it stimulates your brain to go “but why daheckity heck is that?”, opening a whole new plethora of thoughts about how this fantastical world and the people in it works. This kinda intertwines with the projection part, cause ABO has the “animalistic” side of people presented way more forefront and highlighted than irl. But just like in ABO humans might be capable of rational thought but at the end of the day we’re just glorified animals with a big ol’ brain inside our bone-made-thought-cage known as a skull. Once you start to look at ABO in a “biological sense” some thoughts start to occur to you, such as: “Is this somehow applicable in my life?”, “do humans have similar biological drives like that?”, “Is this nurture or nature?”, “are we really more than animals?”, “how far does our biology interfere with society”, “is society molded around our biological needs or do our biological needs mold themselves around society?”, “how far can our brains interfere with our bodies and vice-versa”, etc.

Just like any other trope and fantastical concept Omegaverse can indeed offer you a valid platform to project and simulate things you might not understand about real life or even about yourself. It proves itself to be a really fun and entertaining process and it also has a plus for getting some biases that might interfere with your judgment out of the way thanks to its huge flexibility. Yes, I am indeed declaring that Omegaverse for all it’s quirkiness and weirdness is capable of provoking thought. You’re welcome, I regret nothing.

{World Building and The Whole DIY Aspect of It}

I think this one is the one that resonates with me the most out of all the reasons. For those who are into world building but aren’t very kin into having to start from the ground up or just aren’t very good at it… BOY Omegaverse has your back, son. Since everyone else kinda already did half the work for you all you gotta do is take the abstract core concept and go full Picasso on it. The liberty omegaverse gives you is unbelievable and the worlds you can build around it can range from small island to a whole galaxy system. Which is very rare for a fanfic/fanart trope. Cause the other most popular AUs are crowded in way more rules and stuff you gotta follow or else people start to poop their pants cause “the wands are made of dragon-heart-strings not scales YOU HEATHEN!”, But all joking and exaggerations aside ABO is really unique in this aspect. You can focus on the biology, fashion, architecture, culture, religion, history, art, music, entertainment, etc. All revolving around ABO. The ammount of things you can explore is simply insane. Crafting a society based around these three dynamics is beyond fun (and I know there are people who make more dynamics aside from these but I’ll stick with the basic ones). And having every person bring something new and crafted completely differently from what you have but having just the same core focus every time you click in a ABO work is really something special on it’s on.

I think D&D players might know this feeling all too well, cause although there are general concepts and stuff that don’t change, you’ll never have the same experience twice and everytime it’s a new different and exciting adventure in a whole new world to explore. ABO is kinda like that but with weird ass human-wolf people instead of classes :v

{RPying and Making New Friends}

This one is not exactly my cup of tea but I’m aware that a lot of people stay in the ABO community for this reason. Since ABO has a lot of material to works with it can be a goldmine for people that are into RPying. Be it with friends or to meet new people, the ABO community is rarely judgemental and is open to pretty much everyone, so it can be lots of fun to incorporate all the aspects you love about ABO into some good time with nice people. I know that @omegaverse-seeker is one person’s blog you can go just to find other people willing to RP with you using Omegaverse. So if you’re interested go check it out.

{Social Commentary}

If you follow me long enough you’ll know that BOY HOWDY do I hold some grudges against this one. But since it happens a lot I feel like it would be unfair for me to not comment on it. Many people use the whole ABO genre to build narratives and push some sort of agenda or just make a social commentary about the real world. And god knows how this drives me NUTS most part of the time, because Jesus is it done poorly 9 times out of 10. Even if it comes as totally annoying and breaks the immersion of things for most part, there are times in which is done well and results into some really interesting and thought provoking stories. Like I said before projection and simulation is a big part of this. So when someone manages to take something as broad as ABO and transform into something that will make you lay down your phone for a while to actually think about some aspects of your life and the lives around you it really is something. Obviously it ain’t gonna be A Clockwork Orange lvl kind of thought provoking. Let’s get real people we’re all just amateur students on the internet no need to overestimate things. But the potential is totally there. The genre allows for this kind of potential to exist. And given the talent, the time and the faith required Omegaverse can bring up some real intriguing questions about our lives and the society we live in.

{Coping Mechanisms}

This one might come off a little risky, cause god knows this site and the word “sensitive” go hand in hand with one another. But even if it sounds a little pretentious (like everything else in this list) I’ll say it either way. Some people might use ABO to cope with some things they are not entirely comfortable with (I’ll not enter into the whole transgender “issue” that is brought up every time someone wants to talk about how terrible Omegaverse is, Okay? That’s a whole can of worms I’m just not willing to open here, and not today… or maybe ever. But I digress. Back to other forms of copying) Some people might use Omegaverse to cope with some aspects of themselves they are still trying to come into terms with. Since within Omegaverse there are three dynamics, each with two genders, and every single one of them with exceptions within exceptions this can be a good outlet for people who might not “fit in” with what they belive they should be. For example a boy who’s more feminine and not as physically strong as his peers might look at ABO and see all the Omegas and Betas and go like “Oh I’m not defective or not as good I’m just different”. Or a girl who’s too masculine and physically strong dispite being a girl (like myself) might look at ABO and go “Oh, I’m not out of place, I’m just more ‘Alpha’-like”. Or “I’m not average. I’m a Beta”, lol @betasverse is gonna kill me for this one.

Generally I don’t encourage this form of coping mechanism, or any form of coping mechanisms by that matter. I personally think that you should face reality as it is and try not to run away from it using short cuts and made up explanations. But if this is what gave you the initial kick or what’s helping you in the process of coming into yourself all the power to you my dude. Just try not to get too lost in it okay?

{Kinks}

And last but not least, you might just be into this sort of stuff. A lot of ABO is not plot related AT ALL. It’s just pure porn without plot and the bliss of dirty-dirty kinks. And Hey what’s wrong with that? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ We all got something that turns us on. If yours is people in heat and the whole submissive-dominant, Mpreg or any other things going on in ABO, go ahead children. Have all the fun. And if someone tells you it’s wrong to “fetishize” this or that, just tell them to shove it up their butt. Cause this is a stupid word anyways and what you do in the privacy of your home with yourself or any other consenting person is nobody’s fucking business but your own.

There’s also other things like family Dyncamics you’d like to see incorporated to your ship. Or you think some tropes within Omegaverse are cute and think it would suit your OTP very nicely, etc. But I think I tackled all the main ones already, and if we are to analyse every fucking reason we’ll be here forever. So there you go people. The answer for “but why Omegaverse of all things?”.

If you’re curious about any of the things I said here and want to see them be put in practice I suggest looking up mine and all the other ABO content creators here on tumblr and on ao3. Here’s a master list you can use for the tumblr ones. And here some good ABO fics with interesting concepts as a starting point if you’re new to the whole thing (a fair warning tho, most of them are incomplete and in permanent hiatus).

#omegaverse #abo #alpha beta omega #explaining the whole trope #and fascination with the subject #the why for abo #ptp originals #pack-the-pack answers #pack-the-pack explains

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lindsay36ho · 4 years ago

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An Uncancelled Beethoven Celebration – Interview with Konstantin Scherbakov, part 1

2020 is not only a fascinating year for the musical world and the worldwide celebrations of Ludwig van Beethoven, but also gives us a chance to get closer to noteworthy performers in order to share their ideas and experiences of the grand master of western classical music. In this interview with Konstantin Scherbakov the phenomenal performer shares his experiences derived from a lifelong relationship with the composer, on stage, in the recording studio and as an influential tutor. In this first part of the interview we get to learn about Scherbakov’s year of celebration and complete sonatas recording project.

Patrick Jovell: Konstantin, we know you through your large discography and your broad interest in different kinds of repertoire but this interview will focus on your relation to Beethoven. How did it all start?

Konstantin Scherbakov: The Beethoven Year 2020 rounds up an important circle in my biography. It is not only Beethoven’s 250 Birthday. It also happens that I play piano since 50 years. And it is absolutely no coincidence that I celebrate this double anniversary by playing only Beethoven’s music: I associate my personal Beethoven story with my life in music in general. It began when I, six years old, played his “Marmotte”, and continued through the next fifty years when I played in concerts almost everything Beethoven has written for the piano, and beyond – his solo piano works, all the Concertos and all the Symphonies. I also recorded quite a bit of this – initially for the Soviet Radio, then for Naxos (Diabelli-Variations), Two Pianists label (Eroica-Variations, Sonatas), the largest and most significant project being to-date the Complete Symphonies in Liszt’s transcription. The 2019/20 concert season was exclusively dedicated to Beethoven: the Complete Sonatas and Symphonies cycles in various countries and at some important festivals, of which the most notable was, of course, the Beethovenfest in Bonn. Besides the solo repertoire, I was also to perform Beethoven’s concerti. Towards Beethoven’s supposed birthday at the end of 2020 the release of the Complete Sonatas CD-box (which I am currently recording and will continue recording during the next months for the Steinway label) is scheduled with the release of the set of nine CDs in October – November 2020.

PJ: How has Covid-19 affected your concert and recording schedule?

KS: Yes, it was an unexpected turn of events, (for everyone everywhere!) which cost me, as any other artist, lots of engagements, concerts and which ruined all plans. You realize this especially painfully when it’s a cycle of concerts which is spread through the whole season, when your work is precisely scheduled every month at different venues: these sonatas in January, this set in February etc. Indeed it is very misfortunate when you schedule your work years in advance and everything is lost at once. Except recordings, however: in spite of the Corona crisis, the Steinway label is working strictly in accordance with the schedule we made up one year ago. Every month there has been a release of yet another set of Sonatas.

Here the pandemic situation turns out to be a life elixir! When in the past thirty years did I have the time to enjoy working – in peace – on one program for one whole month? The experience which mixes playing late Beethoven’s music all day long, endless walks in various Swiss regions, and reading Proust, is nothing short of a revelation! In the absence of any disturbing factors like traveling, getting hurried or distracted by other things, you realize this is nothing but sensational, unheard of, and for that reason extremely precious and wonderful time. That is what I am through right at this moment. However dreadful the situation is for the world I am grateful for the opportunity to experience something I was never able to experience before. Many things in life will look different from now on…

PJ: It is said that Beethoven – after composing 15 sonatas – told his editor Breitkopf & Härtel that he was planning to compose sonatas in a totally new way. How do you as an interpreter and recording artist schedule your Beethoven recitals in terms of coupling sonatas? Is there a chronological factor working in this sense?

KS: Of course everyone planning to perform or record the complete Beethoven Sonatas inevitably thinks about how to program them in concert or on CD. So did I. I had done my homework but decided to research how others did theirs before me. I consulted recording catalogues and googled for concert cycles featuring Beethoven’s Sonatas. Strangely enough, I found more programs where the sonatas were distributed in some ways, different from a simple chronological order. Among them there would not be two similar programming ideas. And every idea seemed to me strange and suspicious, highly questionable and subjective. Why this or that choice of sonatas in one concert? What stands behind this particular combination? How would such a program sound in a concert? I did not have any answers as it all seemed too personal, too speculative and thus difficult to understand or agree. My research however proved to be very helpful. The conclusion to program my Beethoven Sonatas cycle in chronological order was reinforced and my opinion about such a decision strengthened. Indeed, what can bring a more satisfying experience than a journey with Beethoven through his life, every period of which left a significant trace in his piano sonatas, from beginning to the end? Moreover: from such a perspective, 32 sonatas appear much more as a cycle with its obvious concept and well structured content.

PJ: Brahms’ opening of his first Sonata – paraphrasing Beethoven’s ”Hammerklavier” – is such a striking example of the latter’s enormous impact as a role model for the sonata form, for composers and pianists to come. There are endless attempts to explain Beethoven’s Sonatas in form and psychological contents. Can you tell me why the 32 have become a bible among pianists?

KS: There are many reasons. To name them all one would need to write a book. I’ll just try to focus on the most obvious ones, from my perspective. One of them was the fact that Beethoven’s titanic and tragic figure was the icon that represented the spirit of the time. After all, the living legend Beethoven, was the most well-known personality of the time next only to Napoleon… It is no surprise therefore that Beethoven was regarded as a symbol of the epoch also by those who composed music. Of course Beethoven’s prodigious gifts were apparent anywhere, in all forms and genres. However, his genius needed the sonata form to develop and bring to realization the whole wealth of his abilities. It is primarily due to sonatas, quartets, and the symphonies that we know Beethoven. The historical development of the sonata form has reached its peak in Beethoven’s compositions. Deriving from examples of earlier sonata forms in the works of C. P. E. Bach, Haydn and Mozart, Beethoven brought the genre to totally new heights and established a new model which ought to serve as a pattern to follow and as a catalogue of rules, methods and ideas. It was the sonata form that explains the attracting power and strong influence of Beethoven.

PJ: Clearly Beethoven displays both willingness and boldness when it comes to experimenting with contents and its construction. Can you elaborate on that?

KS: Beethoven’s method of composition at first sight seems to be uncomplicated, straightforward, simple and easy: one takes a microscopically small musical pattern and grows huge constructions using its semantic potential. This universal method is indeed like in biological life where anything grows from a single cell. However, such a method requires a genius spirit, melodical gift, perfect sense for formal balance and logic, sophistication and precision of a mathematician’s thinking. Without any of these qualities any attempt to copy or even just follow the method would fail. Many composers didn’t escape the attraction of Beethoven’s method and tried it with various success: the names of Brahms, Bruckner, Schumann and Schubert spring to mind, Mahler would not be possible; many representatives of national schools couldn’t avoid the influence either, such as the Russian Tchaikovsky, Finnish Sibelius or Czech Dvorak. The perfect blend of counterpoint and melody, the use of plain harmony patterns, rhythmical urgency, logic in the development, an enormous scope of artistic ideas and subjects and the ability to say much using few words – that all made Beethoven’s scores an example to study, worship, marvel, and to follow.

PJ: Which values – or challenges for that sake – arise for you as pianist and interpreter while working with this incredibly rich material?

KS: Also from the pianist’s perspective there are a few reasons why Beethoven’s music is so attractive. The first indeed is the fact that this is undoubtedly the best music ever written. There are thirty-two wonderful piano pieces; each of them makes any concert program attractive for audiences. Due to their different musical nature, they can be integrated in any programming context. It also happened that Beethoven was the first composer to write music for the grandfather of the modern piano which we know and play today. Finally, it was in the sonata form where he not only formally completed the development of the genre but opened the new era of pianism with new rules, principles, new basics and unheard-of means. In order to serve the new music ideas which Beethoven introduced in yet another sonata, the piano technique had to be revolutionized; the modern understanding of articulation was introduced (Legato, before all), the use of dynamic range of ever changing and growing instrumental possibilities, the use of pedal(s) etc.

However, for a thinking, reflecting pianist, playing a Beethoven Sonata remains, above all, the challenge of highest artistic criteria; it is kind of a maturity test, because in a Beethoven’s Sonata one’s musicianship becomes apparent. Why so? The answer is in the nature of Beethoven’s language in general as the language of one of the greatest humanists in arts history. It looks to me the following way: in his music, Beethoven sums up the experience of the humanity, forms it in a particular musical idea, encrypts it in a pattern (motif, theme) consisting of a few notes and speaks by its means to humans, in his own name or in the name of God (“Seid umschlungen Millionen!”). His genius makes possible an easy and clear recognition of the meaning of such a motif by everyone. Its expressive power and obvious message is underlined by its shortness. The famous “Fate motif” from the 5th Symphony is a perfect illustration of this thesis. Thus, the task of a performer is to catch, identify, decode and bring the message over. Here the interpretation (pronunciation) has ideally to have the equal expressive power; any failure in properly formulating the idea would be recognized and cause dissatisfaction. In the ideal case, we get two kindred musical spirits acting in harmony – the composer’s and the performer’s. In the worst scenario, we simply experience the dutiful text reading. To illustrate these words I ask you to think about this: how many times were the expectations that always arise in anticipation of a concert featuring, say, the Sonata Op. 111, justified by the actual experience? That is what makes pianists attempt to climb those peaks of piano literature: on one side, the challenge which in case of success would be gratified by recognition, on the other – the urge to prove to oneself where one stands as of now. And above all – the ultimate beauty of the music which is matched only by its depth.

About Konstantin Sherbakov

A world wide performer, Scherbakov had a career that took him to play with 70 orchestras and to record some 40 albums, including the complete piano works by Shostakovich, Godowsky, and the nine symphonies by Beethoven in Liszt’s transcription. Over the course of his career, Scherbakov has performed all of Beethoven’s piano concertos around the globe and is perhaps the only pianist in the world that has an active repertoire featuring all of Beethoven’s piano sonatas, all piano concertos and the Liszt-Beethoven symphonic transcriptions (the latter on five discs 1998-2004, Naxos). The recordings were met with enthusiasm: “Scherbakov is in many ways the artist whom these works have been waiting for,” International Piano wrote. Stereoplay echoed: “This CD should be prescribed at least 50 conductors for educational purposes! Since 1998 Scherbakov functions as Professor at the Zürich University of Arts and many of his students received prizes at international piano competitions, most notably Yulianna Avdeeva; the winner of the 2010 Chopin Competition in Warsaw. Scherbakov has also been nominated by the International Classical Music Awards (ICMA) for his Liszt/Lyapunov Transcendental Studies CD (Steinway label, 2019).

Scherbakov Sonatas Project 2020

FREE SAMPLE: Beethoven Complete Sonatas Vol. 6 (Steinway and Sons label)

from Piano Street’s Classical Piano News https://www.pianostreet.com/blog/articles/an-uncancelled-beethoven-celebration-interview-with-konstantin-scherbakov-part-1-10696/

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teddylawrence · 7 years ago

Text

BASICS

Full Name: Theodore Claude Lawrence (previously Theodore Claude Holland). Meaning of Name: Theodore was his biological father’s name and Claude was his biological grandfather’s name on his mother’s side. Theodore is a name of English heritage and means “gift of god”. Nickname: Teddy. Birth Date: February 13th. Astrological Sign and Details: Aquarius, Teddy has several strong Aquarius personality traits; independent, curious, creative, as well as emotionally unavailable, temperamental, and occasionally unintentionally rude.

Birth Place: Anaheim, California. Age: 21. Nationality: American. Race: Caucasian. Hair Color: Brown. Hair Style: Recently cropped short, generally messy and falling into his eyes. Distinct Features of Face: Sharp cheekbones and strong jaw line. Glasses or Contacts: N/A. Eye Color: Green. Skin Tone: Fair. Scars or Distinguishing Marks: A splattering of several small scars along his arms from working in gardens as a summer job. Large freckles along his arms and back. Has a lot off random scars from unpleasant events with bad foster families and the boys in the foster home residences Teddy grew up in. Disabilities: N/A. Build or Body Type: Gangly and lean. Height: 6′0. Weight: 163 lbs. Speech Patterns: Generally talking a mile a minute or so slow that he can’t even string a sentence together. Teddy is excitable but when he’s face with an actual serious topic or a conversation that isn’t bordering on comical he gets anxious and will shut down, hardly speaking at all. Tag Words: “God.” “What the fuck.” “Yeet.” Gestures: Points a lot, hands are always flying around when he talks excitedly. Weakness: People who show him any sort of physical affection.

FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD

Mother: Annie Holland (biological) / Beatrice Lawrence (adoptive) Father: Theodore Rydel (biological) / Kurt Lawrence (adoptive) Mother’s Occupation: Annie is currently in rehab. Beatrice is a principal at an elementary school. Father’s Occupation: Unsure. Kurt owns an auto shop. Family Finances: The Lawrence’s aren’t the wealthiest but they make do. Birth Order: Only child, but has several adopted brothers and sisters. Brothers: Michael Lawrence (16), James Lawrence (20). Sisters: Nadia Lawrence (9), Bethany Lawrence (13), Maggie Lawrence (17). Other Close Family: Teddy used to be close with his biological grandparents on his mother’s side, but hasn’t spoken to them recently. Best Friends: Blake Knox, Jude Hayward, Wesley Costa. Other Friends: Lana Jameson, Frankie Vigo, Ophelia Knox, Gabe Leitner, Imogen Bauer, Harley Cho. Enemies: Teddy puts on an obvious effort to not hate anyone and vice versa, but if he had to put someone here, he’d say Saskia Cohen. Pets: N/A. Home Life During Childhood: Teddy never met his father, so his mother tried her best, but she was addicted to hard drugs and eventually Teddy was taken from her at the age of two. She’s been in and out of rehab ever since, and Teddy has lived with several families and several foster home residences, many of which are awful and probably have to do with why it’s so hard for Teddy to trust to this day. What Did His, Her or Their Bedroom Look Like: Since Teddy never had a room to call his own for longer than a few months until he was 16, he just got used of never putting anything up. At the Lawrence’s, his room is shared with one of his brothers, so he has nothing but a picture of his biological mother. At Lockwood, his room is rather bland, a beige duvet on his bed and only a picture of all the Lawrence’s on his bedside table. Any Sports or Clubs: In the last two years of high school, he was heavily involved in the school plays/musicals and drama club. Schooling: Flipped through several different school his entire life until he was stable in the Lawrence household for the last two years of high school. Now attends Lockwood University. Favorite Subject: Drama. Popular or Loner: Loner, never really bothered introducing himself to people since he figured he would leave before they even got a chance to remember his name. Now, popular. Important Experiences or Events: The day the Lawrence’s told him that they wanted to adopt him so that there was no chance of losing Teddy from their family. It was the first time Teddy ever actually felt wanted in someone’s life. Health Problems: Clinical depression. Religion and beliefs: Agnostic.

PERSONAL

Bad Habits: Chainsmoking, going dangerously above and beyond for attention, pushing people away when he’s bored of them, drinking/drugs past recreational use. Good Habits: Has a strong ability to cheer people up, putting his friends before himself. Best Characteristic: Able to put anything aside to make sure the people he loves are okay. Worst Characteristic: Unsure of how to properly deal with his anger, therefore blowing up over something that doesn’t require a large reaction. Worst Memory: When Teddy got a role in his school musical in junior year, he wanted his biological mother to come and see it. She was out of rehab at the time, so she showed up, but was high. When Teddy showed on stage, she began to scream and cry in excitement, causing the show to end early and have her kicked out and banned from school property. Teddy hasn’t spoken to her since. Best Memory: The day he realized the Lawrence’s were good people and that they actually cared about his safety and well being. Proud of: His ability to put a smile on almost anyone’s face. Embarrassed by: His biological parents. Driving Style: Calm until the slightest thing goes wrong, then it’s just a panicky downward spiral from there. Attitude: Says odd things for attention and just because he generally doesn’t have a filter, happy-go-lucky and laid back, tries to be nice to everyone. Fears: Abandonment, embarrassing himself. Feels Vulnerable When: He’s put in a situation where he could potentially embarrass himself, when he’s being honest with people. Pet Peeves: Vegans, snooty/serious people, when girls laugh obnoxiously loud on purpose. Sexuality: Pan-sexual. Exercise Routine: Doesn’t have a set out exercise routine, usually just realizes he ate an entire bag of chips and hasn’t moved from his bed all day so he’ll do as many push ups as he can, and repeat. Day or Night Person: Both, usually more night. Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert. Optimist or Pessimist: Optimist.

LIKES AND PREFERENCES

Music: Doesn’t have a favourite band or anything, he’s too all over the place with his music taste. Likes at least one song from every genre possible, but his favourite songs currently are Ghosttown by Yung Lean and the Nicki Minaj remix of Plain Jane by A$AP Ferg. Books: The Chronicles of Narnia series. Magazines: N/A. Foods: Cookie dough, Jalapeno chips, lasagna. Drinks: Tequila, rum and coke, chocolate milk. Animals: Thinks that giraffes are really living the Good Life, a huge cat person too. Sports: N/A. Social Issues: Thinks people should just be open-minded and shut up about anything else. Favorite Saying: “This bitch empty, YEET.” Color: Yellow. Clothing: Has a strange mix of grill dad at a barbecue and Instagram pretty boy, wearing a lot of brightly coloured shirt/weirdly patterned clothes with random accessories that usually don’t match. Jewelry: Random terrible rings and necklaces purchased at Hot Topic. Games: Has this game with himself where he can see how long he can go without watching porn. The longest was six days. Websites: Twitter, Vine, Pornhub. TV Shows: The Office, Stranger Things, Teen Wolf, Rupaul’s Drag Race. Movies: Kill Bill, Rent, The Hunger Games, literally any horror movie. Greatest Want: A romantic partner he can trust completely. Greatest Need: Therapy.

LIFESTYLE

Favorite Possession: His pipe, the first one he ever bought with his eldest adoptive brother. Most Cherished Possession: His only picture of his biological mother. Neighborhood: Rochester. Married Before: N/A. Significant Other Before: Several failed ‘relationships’. Children: N/A. Relationship with Family: With his adoptive family Teddy couldn’t be happier, the Lawrence’s are amazing and he gets along with all his siblings. However, he does miss his biological mother very much and hopes to see her again someday soon. When it comes to his biological father, Teddy is bitter that he would leave his mother when she needed him most and feels robbed of a proper family. Car: None of his own, drives the family car whenever he’s home. Career: Worked at several bars but can never hold down a proper job, currently looking for another one. Salary: N/A. Other Income: Accepts whatever the Lawrence’s will give him although he rarely asks them for anything since he feels bad, sells whatever drugs he has in stock whenever he gets desperate. Dream Career: To be in famous musicals. Love Life: After just confessing his feelings to Lana they’re currently not on speaking terms since it didn’t exactly go as planned. A sucker for aesthetically pleasing people, Teddy acquires crushes on anybody in passing who he believes is attractive, making being friends with him a little difficult since he will probably develop a crush on you. Sexual Turn Ons: Public sex, neck kissing, excessive touching. Sexual Turn Offs: Bad dirty talk, awkwardness, obnoxiously loud fake sounding moans. Hobbies: Binge watching movies/TV shows, partying, harassing his friends, getting high. Talents or Skills: Can act and sing, although he’s more shy when it comes to his singing, exceptional at making friends (whether he keeps them around or not). Intelligence Level: When it comes to school Teddy is at an average intelligence level, although if he really applied himself it would make all the difference.

#this took me almost two hours #smiles forcefully #lockwoodtask001 #lockwood:points #abuse tw #alcohol tw #drugs tw #drug use tw #i hope i didnt miss any tbh

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