#and my grandfathers taxidermy

[insleywinsley]

Ode to Night. 2024. ph. Insley Smullen.

[grudgecollector]

Little Lamb

Pairing: Poly TLB / Fem!Reader Request: Ok i finally came up with a request for you that as been on my mind for a hot minute. So i was thinking a poly lost boys (or just dwayne or paul if you don't wanna write for poly i don't mind which one) with a fem s/o who just loves doing their hair and styling their outfits, maybe putting makeup on them? Vampires cant see themselves in the mirror so they gotta make sure they look dope somehow! Why not help each other out! Maybe if she's a vampire to they like to return the favor. I have no clue why this just seems like an adorable thing to do. Story Summary: A peaceful night at the Emerson household has you reminiscing about the past Words: 2k Tags/Warnings: The boys live!AU, slight canon plot changes, slight angst, reader having a toxic home life, some fluff A/N: So this may or may not have a part 2, this plot kind of sprang itself on me out of nowhere to be honest. Also sorry that it kind of jumps around a bunch, hopefully it makes sense. It's been a while since I've written for the boys so my brain was going crazy.

@aviradasa

The Emerson household was alight with life, laughter bouncing off the expansive walls and high sitting ceiling. There was a warm glow from the fireplace, the chill of what could classify as a rainy winter day in Santa Carla quickly snuffed out. The sound of crackling wood blended with the music that played throughout the living room, Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Suzie Q washing over you in a beautiful symphony. 

Warmth from the fire crawled up your back as you stood behind Paul, who had perched himself happily on a chair brought in from the dining table. 

“Can you stay still?” Your hands settling on Paul’s shoulders, a small smile finding its way to your lips. 

His foot bounced harshly against the coral colored carpet on the living room floor, making it harder for you to work on his hair like he had requested. And you didn’t want to risk accidentally burning the back of his neck with your hair straightener, even if it wouldn’t actually do much damage to his cold skin. 

Paul’s hair was tangled and ratty, stiff from overuse of a product that you were sure was probably long expired. It took thirty minutes of brushing, and gentle tugging, before you could finally run your fingers freely through the thick golden locks. 

“Sorry, sweetcheeks.” He chuckled softly, tilting his head back with a soft smile. 

The rest of the boys were scattered about the downstairs of the house. 

Dwayne was sitting on the couch, long legs stretched across the cushions of the couch, ankles crossed as he listened to Sam gush about a new comic he had recently bought. Occasionally, the teenager would flip through the colorful pages, showing Dwayne the fight scenes he thought were particularly cool. 

David was standing next to Michael, staring down at his Grandfather’s old taxidermy work. They laughed quietly amongst themselves as Michael pointed at the dust covered fox's beady eyes, clearly not made as carefully as his more recent works. 

“This thing is fuckin’ freaky, man.” You could hear Michael say as he picked up a beaver with similar beady eyes. David laughed as he poked the glassy faux eyes with his fingers. 

Marko was in the kitchen with Star and Laddie, finding the table a perfect place to sit themselves as Marko taught her how to properly sew patches onto her jacket. 

You ruffled Paul’s hair, finally done styling the top to be big and wild like he usually had it. What would have been a choppy fringe was curled back, small tufts of hair curling back, making his hair look like a golden ocean of subtle waviness. 

“Alright hair’s done.” You say finally, setting down the half empty can of hairspray on the coffee table. 

“Sweet! Dwayne, how do I look, man?” Paul leans forward a little, hands tapping against his knees excitedly. 

Sam looks over at the blonde, lips quirked up in a smirk “Like an idiot.” The teenager replies, laughing as the vampire shoots him a glare. 

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, squirt. So butt out.” 

Their tones were light and joking, no real malice behind their jabs. 

It was nice to see that things could smooth over as well as they did after everything that happened two years ago between the Emersons, Max, and the boys. A chaotic fight that ended with Max being torn apart by the six vampires. 

The decades of built up anger of his four “sons” reared its wicked head in those final moments. His own creations turned him into nothing, their loyalty had been worn thin long ago. Pieces of torn flesh and scattered limbs was all that remained of his once looming body. 

After Max’s death there was no change within the group, the icy grip of immortality still holding tight. A false hope instilled by the Frog brothers, thinking that if the head vampire was killed, it would end everything.

To Michael and Star it was a saddening defeat, disappointment clouding their brains for months on end as they were both forced to come to terms with their new life. 

“Max was turned by an old vampire long before I was even a concept to the world. The true “Head Vampire” as you like to call it. It would be almost impossible to find him now.” David had told them a few nights after, growing tired of Michaels complaining. 

“The elders hide in the shadows, they aren’t fond of taking risks. The way they live… It’s honestly pathetic.” He chuckled, inhaling what remained of his cigarette before crushing it under his boot.

“So you just expect us to live like this? Like fucking monsters?” Michael glared at him, fists clenching at his sides in irritation.

“Lighten up Emerson, it ain’t all that bad. You’ll see that.” David winked at his unwilling companion, whirling himself around to bark orders at the other vampires.

Their adjustment was chaotic, Star and Michael were on a warpath that needed to be snuffed out quickly before more eyes shifted in their direction.

While humans would never suspect something as impossible as vampires, murderers were never a far away concept. 

“You look good Paul.” Dwayne mused, flipping through the comic Sam handed him. 

“Awesome.” He smiles, standing quickly and turning to kiss you on the cheek, “You’re the best, sweetheart.” 

Marko steps into the living room with a jingle to his step, shaking his jacket a little as he holds it up for you to look at. The new patch he had sewn on was a beautiful piece of art he had cut out from a cloth canvas, a dark castle with subtle moon light casting over the tower peaks. 

The jacket was a little newer and darker in contrast to the much more colorful one he usually wore. Most of the things sewn on or hanging from it were things gifted to him by you, Star, and the other boys. He had been working on it for a good month or two now. 

“What’cha think?” He asked, “I might end up covering most of it up with more patches. It feels too empty.” He mused, running his index finger over the empty black spaces that stretched past the castle itself. “Paul found some old bottle caps in the cave a few weeks ago, was thinking about using those. Maybe cut up some old shirts, not sure.” 

Your eyes drift over towards your duffle bag, having been spending the last night or two sleeping on the couch in the Emerson household. 

Your parents were fighting again, and you couldn’t stand being stuck in such a volatile home. 

Typically you would find yourself sleeping in the overly decorated corner you had taken up in the cave, but the winding roads were slick from the recent rain storms, a rare but welcome shower to quench the thirst of overly dry foliage. 

So you found yourself rubbing your teary eyes on the doorstep, Lucy’s small hands ushering you inside with a kind smile. She didn’t think to pry too much, knowing the environment you grew up in after the many simple talks the two of you have had. 

She was more of a mother to you than your own, understanding, comforting, always welcoming you with open arms. 

Your fingers tugged on the zipper quickly, digging through your clothes until you fished out an old shirt. 

A woman’s painted eyes stared back at you, her fingers twisting oddly above a dark blue crystal ball, dark burgundy scarf covering most of her wild hair, heavy makeup darkening her bright green eyes, the background of the picture was filled with twisting dark purple and pink curtains. The picture adopted quite a similar darkness that adorned Marko’s new project. 

“You could use this too, I don’t wear it much anymore.” 

He grabbed it from your hand, examining it before smiling. “Hell yeah. Thanks babe.” He made his way back over to the kitchen.

Truthfully you just grabbed whatever your hands touched before stuffing it into your duffle bag, trying to get out of that house as quickly as you possibly could. Most of the shirts you had grabbed in your rush didn’t fit anymore, that being one of them. 

There was a slight pang deep in your chest, guilt clawing at your throat. 

What else were you meant to do? You wasted away most of your life acting as a shield for your mother, taking the brunt of your step dad’s abuse in order to keep her safe. The truth was that you were simply tired now, no longer sporting the clouded mind of a confused teenager, hell bent on bringing her broken family back together. 

A sigh falls from your lips sadly. Your ears perk up slightly as you hear the all too familiar ring of spurs on David’s boots. The black steel toes came into your line of sight as you closed the duffle bag again. 

You look up at him with a small forced smile, taking his extended hand. His gloved fingers came up to your cheek, the leathery thumb stroking across your skin as he asked-

“What’s on your mind, doll?” A voice ushered you from your deep thoughts, your fingernails stilling against the dry blood on your knuckles. Your eyes stayed glued to the railing of the boardwalk, unable to look up and allow him- whoever he was- to see the pathetic sadness in your eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” The reply was cold, uninterested in having a conversation with overly curious strangers. 

“Well… I don’t think it’s me that’s in need of helping.” There was a light chuckle that came from his lips, “You just looked lonely is all.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, pushing yourself away from the railing. You internally prepare yourself to scold the stranger for bothering you. 

Your glare softened though once you looked at him. His piercing eyes swirled with amusement. He was a lot more attractive than you previously assumed he would be, falsely believing that he would be some worn down drunkard looking to score a night alone with a lady. 

No, he was beautiful, piercing blue eyes boring straight into your soul, as if he was trying to read your mind. 

There was the scruffy start of a beard on his face, an almost flirtatious smirk playing at his dusty pink lips, his blonde hair was styled to stand on the top of his head before sweeping down into a mullet. He wore dark clothes, a layering of a leather jacket, trench coat, and a simple black shirt beneath it all. 

He was unlike anyone you had seen walking along the boardwalk. It was almost hypnotizing, drawing you in without your knowledge. He was like a venus flytrap, dangerous yet alluring. 

“You look like you need a distraction.”

And a distraction it was. You spent the whole night walking along the boardwalk talking with David, his faithful companions not far behind. You know now that you would have suffered the same fate as Michael and Star if you had taken up his offer for a ride. 

But even with your caution, you would continue to seek out David’s presence on the nights you walked beneath the neon glow. Your eyes would wander the throngs of tourists scattered along the boardwalk, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious blonde. 

“I’m just worried about my mom.” You finally replied, unable to hide the truth from him. 

“I already told you we could deal with that step dad of yours.” David replied softly, he was always so tender with you. 

You couldn’t help but smile a little before rolling your eyes, already having this conversation more times than you could count on both hands “David…” Your tone was light. 

“I’m just sayin’.” He smirked, holding one hand up in surrender, “I hate seeing you down.” 

You felt another pair of arms slide around your waist from behind, Paul’s gaze meeting David’s with a teasing glint. 

“Such a big softie, isn’t he?” The blonde chuckled, brushing his nose against the back of your ear lightly before bringing his forehead to your shoulder, “I’m so fucking bored. Can we please go do something.” 

You couldn't stop the light laugh that came from you, an all too familiar sentence leaving your mouth.

"What do you have in mind?"

You could practically hear the echo of David's reply ring through your ears, that night flashing through your mind briefly.

“Oh, I’m sure we can find something to entertain ourselves tonight. Isn’t that right boys?”

[rolloontherun]

**Early Signs of My Alterhumanity**

Reflecting on my childhood, I can now recognize many behaviors and experiences that hinted at my alterhuman identity, even before I fully understood what it meant.

When I played Adopt and Raise games on Roblox, I instinctively chose to play as an animal, particularly canines, because it felt natural and right. This preference extended to my time during recess, where I would pretend to be a canine, running around and embodying the traits of the animals I felt most connected to.

At home, when I wasn’t masking, my behavior became even more animalistic. I would often bark, howl, and even walk on all fours, mirroring the actions of the dogs around me. There were times I even attempted to eat dog food, dog biscuits, or raw meat and fish, driven by an inner compulsion that I couldn’t fully explain at the time.

From a young age, I experienced phantom limbs, such as tails, ears, wings, and snouts. These sensations were persistent and contributed to my sense of not fully belonging to a purely human identity. My fascination with animals extended to fictional characters as well; I vividly remember hyperfixating on feral animal characters like Rita and Runt from Animaniacs.

Visits to the zoo were another aspect of my childhood that reflected my alterhumanity. I was particularly drawn to enclosures housing coyotes, foxes, wolves, otters, and bats, often lingering there far longer than anyone else. These animals captivated me in a way that felt deeply personal.

At night, I would pray to any deity that would listen, asking to wake up as a shapeshifter or even an animal, yearning for a transformation that matched how I felt inside. My discomfort around my grandfather’s full-body coyote taxidermy also speaks to this deep connection—I felt an odd, unsettling reaction that went beyond simple unease, as if it challenged something fundamental within me.

Looking back, these experiences were early signs of my alterhuman identity, an integral part of who I am that has always been present, even when I didn’t have the words to describe it.

[knivesandteeth]

Hanging out with my in-laws is truly loon-toons to me cause they weird in such benign ways by comparison to mine? Like what do you mean the biggest beef in your family is over a taxidermied frog? What do you mean no one has ever been involved in organised crime or offered to have some one taken out or stayed friends with your abusive husband? I've never met one of my biological grandfather because of CSA and your biggest family beef is your aunt annoying? Wild shit

[sixty-silver-wishes]

sometimes I think about the house my grandma raised my mother and uncle in, that my grandfather lived in before he died, that my sister and my parents and I would all come over to for holidays. when my sister and I were little, we loved watching Disney and Nickelodeon on my grandma’s TV because all we could get at home was PBS for the longest time. she had an old antique piano that was out of tune, and when I started learning to play the piano in middle school, I would go plink out “Legend of Zelda” songs on it and think about how I was playing songs much, much younger than that 100-year-old piano. and we tried to plant a garden in her backyard, but it got overgrown with weeds. and one day we found tadpoles in the birdbath, and she let us take some home so we could watch them grow into frogs. my grandfather had an old green easy chair he was always sitting in, and two toes that crossed over each other and wouldn’t sit normally. I liked to watch nature documentaries with him. right before he died, we would talk about world history because he was very interested in it, and I was just beginning to be. there was a painting of my mother when she was a child on the wall of one of the bedrooms, and I would always stare at it because it looked exactly like my older sister. my grandmother had an outdoor swimming pool where we would sit by as we watched my uncle launch Fourth of July fireworks, but when I got older and wasn’t interested in fireworks anymore, or the United States had made me too disillusioned with the Fourth of July for me to watch fireworks, I sat inside with my aunt and the dogs to keep them company. there was a big tree in the yard I loved to climb, and when I was in middle or high school, I would take my instruments up there to play them while sitting in a tree, just because playing instruments in a tree sounded like a magical thing to do. my grandmother had a pantry full of snacks just for my sister and I- Scooby Doo fruit snacks with the light blue one still in there and Saltine crackers, and a fridge full of sodas and sparkling water in the garage. she had a sewing room where she would teach us to make blankets and pillowcases with the fabric we picked out, and when my sister got older, she taught her to make vintage style dresses. she had a bedroom full of antiques belonging to our great-grandmother whom I had never met, and it somehow felt like the most familiar and most distant place in the world to me.

but then her dog died, and her old cockatiel died too, and one of our cats died. and over time we buried all the animals under one of the trees in her backyard- one I used to climb, but not as much as the other tree because it was so skinny. when my grandfather died when I was in high school, he was buried in a military cemetery where all you can leave are cut flowers and US flags, and my grandma got a certificate from the government after he died with Donald Trump’s signature printed on it because he was president then, and she always says it’s the ugliest signature she’s ever seen. his funeral was the very first time I saw a coffin. the old piano was beyond repair, so they took out all the musical bits and turned it into a desk that sits in our living room. the white paint covering the wood, its musical guts removed, the silence of the out-of-tune ancient keys that are no longer there makes it sound more like taxidermy than a piano. it plays john cage’s 4’33 in fortissimo whenever I pass it.

when my grandmother went to live in an assisted living community, she sold the house. she’s doing well now. she likes the place she lives in, she invites us over for holidays, she keeps active. but the house was completely remodeled and painted over. she said the tree I loved to climb in, the one my uncle climbed in when he was a kid, was chopped down. she says the house doesn’t look like it used to anymore. it’s unrecognizable. I could drive past it and never know. I probably have.

I wonder if the people who live there now know that in the big backyard that generations of people loved, no matter how much they’ve altered the house, there are the bones of two dogs and a cat and a cockatiel deep under the ground.

I wonder if they haunt it.

[mice-and-moonbeams]

Ok so besides the big things in EP 7 ( Celia! Gwen!! Jon???) I've been thinking about a couple of other things well lots of things - the donations! The pot with someone screaming does that not remind us of another pot (vase)?? So I've gone through and copied all the mentioned artifacts that were donated. I'm seriously wondering if there's connections to things in TMA either artifact storage or Mikaela. Here's the list;

somewhat disconcerting ceramic pot modelled on a shouting human face

donation in the form of a large Bearskin rug.

made donations of a large chandelier of dark glass and an oversized gramophone with a collection of records of what I believe to be religious plainsong

they had also brought personal donations in the form of A crudely-carved rocking horse, a grandfather clock that leaked some sort of dark oil, A heavily vandalized set of the Encyclopedia Britannica and an extensive collection of abstract canvas artworks respectively.

two large, soiled Crinoline dresses, a Chaise Longue with cushions filled with some sort of coarse sand, a taxidermied vulture, a rusty antique printing press and a collection of old medical equipment that had seemingly been recently used

some sort of leather kite, an oddly curved brass telescope, a wheelbarrow full of shifting fossils, an armload of swords, lengths of rope…

A tin bathtub filled with moldy food, a stack of old dental retainers, a brace of half-butchered pheasants, jars of what appeared to be pickled hands;

my shoulders crushed against an ancient diving suit filled with sawdust, with my neck wrenched under a broken picnic hamper whilst bloodstained china was ground beneath my feet.

mouth filling with the copper taste of imperial coins pouring down on me from a jar above.

...,..........................................................................................

If they are connected that means things are bleeding together - more of the physical fear things are coming through and might explain how Celia is over in this timeline maybe she jumped through whatever happened to let more than just our three voices through.

[mechanical-v1scera]

Personally I would keep my weird potted plant, bearskin rug, rocking horse, leaking grandfather clock, encyclopedia britannica, abstract artworks, crinoline dresses, sand cushions, taxidermies vulture, printing press, old medical equipment (recently used), leather kite, brass telescope, wheelbarrow of fossils, swords, rope, tiny mold filled bathtub, old retainers, half-butchered pheasants, jars of pickled hands, sawdust filled diving suit and broken picnic basket

[man-moth-hook-hand]

Welcome to My Nighmare Ch. 2

Chapter 2 rewrite! I'm not dead! Just super busy lately.

2.7K

Master list

Chapter Two: Freaks

A man lay on his back on the porch. His head was partially disfigured by a large potted plant. Christ. Maybe this was my omen. 

“Dad?” Lucy made her way out of the old car towards her father. She didn’t seem as concerned as her two sons. “Dad?” She asked again. 

“If he’s dead, does that mean we get to go home?” Same snarked. I couldn’t understand how he was joking about his possibly dead grandfather. Lucy didn’t like it either as she gave him a disapproving look. 

The man shot up off the ground as if it was nothing. “Playin’ dead! And doing a damn good job of it, too.” Lucy and her father laughed off the encounter. 

“Why don’t you guys start unpacking some things, OK?” Lucy gestured to the old Toyota.

“So, you’re living with us now?” Michael pulled a box out of the flooring and handed it to me. It was heavy. 

“I guess so. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, I don’t plan to stay long–” I tried to explain but Micahel cut me off. 

“That’s ok, mom would do this stuff sometimes when we lived in Arizona. How long do you plan on staying?”

“Maybe a few months, it depends on what place will hire me and how hard it’ll be to get a car. I’m ok with sleeping on the floor at this point.” Michael and I headed out way into the log cabin style home. I enjoyed the windchimes and nicknacks that Lucy’s father decorated with. 

“It’ll be nice having someone else for Sam to bug.” Michael threw a large wicker sun hat on Sam. Sam flung his arm in Michael’s direction, barely missing his ribs. 

The house was nice. It had a large living room, a staircase to the right, a kitchen, sunroom, and something behind two large oak sliding doors. Everything was very. . . man-ish. Men always had the tendency to fill their house with the bare necessities, occasionally adding a spark here and there. Old man Emerson’s spark seemed to be dead animals. There was taxidermy and paintings of all kinds of animals in the house. It was kind of creepy. 

Michael and Sam bounced their way down the stairs almost knocking their mother over in the process. She called for them to stop running but they ignored her, stopping only in their tracks when they opened the mysterious sliding doors. I made my way over to see why the boys seemed so off. 

“Talk about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” Sam eyeballed everything in the small room. A red light showed over the taxidermy, creating a disgusting feeling in my stomach. I wasn't completely disturbed at the taxidermy room. I almost liked it. 

The boy’s grandfather appeared behind us. “Stay out of places you don’t belong!” He closed the double sliding doors. 

“Hey,” Lucy gestured for me to come towards her. “I’ll show you where you can stay. It's not much, but. . . “ She trailed off. Lucy led me up the stairs to the main hallway, taking a small detour to a tiny cut out. Two stairs trailed up to the almost equally small platform and a closed door. 

“I’m sure I’ll like it.” I reassured her. I thanked her and opened the door to my new room. It was more like an attic that got turned into a room, but I was content nonetheless. It had a twin sized bed, nightstand with lamp, dresser, and a trunk. It almost looked like an Army barrack, especially with the green bedding. If my arms were an extra foot long I’d be able to touch the walls. There were two framed windows, one one the opposite side of the door, and one to the right. Horses caught my eye.

I took my clothes out of my backpack, thankfully I had found a laundromat to wash them, and stuck them in the first drawer of the dresser. I placed my backpack and sunglasses on top. My new book went into the dresser. I noticed the amount of dust, I was going to have to ask Lucy about some cleaning supplies. 

After I had gotten some cleaning supplies, I went to work disinfecting the dust from the previous resident. Maybe it was Lucy, although this was a very masculine room. Mr. Emerson broke me out of my thought as he knocked on my door. I put down my cleaner and wipes to open the door for him. 

“Hey, hey,” he pulled something out from behind him. “I got something for ya, as a little house warming gift.” It was a taxidermied owl. It screeched in a fierce position. 

“Thank you.” I plucked it from his hands. “I’ll place it on the dresser.”

“Alright. If you need anything you just let me know.”

What an odd man, I thought. 

/|\^._.^/|\

Later that evening, Lucy invited me to the boardwalk. I clamored into the car with Sam and Michael, and Nanook came for some reason. I guess Sam just took him everywhere. It was pretty looking at the city coming into view. I had forgotten how pretty the night was. Once it hit sundown I had been sleeping and getting up when the sun woke me, but now I could enjoy it. 

The boardwalk was interesting. It was salty and intoxicating to say the least. It had a different feel to it. The light, the music, the people. . . everything felt so alive. It wasn’t like how it was during the day when kids rounded every corner and disgruntled parents gave you dirty looks. No, at night was when the real freaks came out. Goth kids, weird surfer guys, bikers, and way too many drunk people flooded every nook and cranny. It was like an infection that was consuming the boardwalk. It was intoxicating. 

I need a job. I needed one fast. Would anyone even be hiring? I searched the boardwalk desperately asking different shops to hire me. The surf shop, tattoo shop, burger place, and other various businesses stated that “they weren’t hiring,” which was utter bullshit. 

HELP DESPERATELY WANTED, WILL HIRE FELONS. 

Now that caught my eye. What puzzled me was the shop. It was a small jewelry store, not some bar or tattoo shop that I was expecting. I opened the door to be greeted by a young girl. 

“Hi! How can I help you?” She had silky long black hair and what some would consider too much blush. She placed her tan, freckled arms on the glass counter. 

“Uh, I actually need a job. I saw the help wanted sign outside, is there anyone I can talk to?”

“Yeah, let me go get Brenda, call her Ms. Chengey.” The teenager went to who I guessed was the shop owner. 

A woman who looked like a blonde Joan Craford weaved her way out of the bead curtain. She had dark purple eyeshadow and equally dark and purple lips. “I’m Ms. Brenda Cheney, I own this shop. Jennifer told me you want to work for me?” 

“Yes, ma’am Ms. Cheney,” I shook her bedazzled wrinkly hand. “When can I start?” It was a little bold, but I really needed this job. Plus, Ms. Cheney looked like a woman who liked boldness. 

“Well,” she smiled. “If you can, I'd like to see you here tomorrow. We just had someone quit.” Ms. Cheney smacked her gum. 

“Yes ma’am, what time?”

“9 o’clock, that's an hour before we open. Jennifer,” she put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Would you be willing to train her?”       

“Sure, what’s your name?” Jennifer asked. “And you can call me Jenny.”

“(Y/n). Nice to meet you Jenny.” I said. “So just be back here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I can’t really train you until tomorrow since the busiest times are now. I’ll see you then!” She smiled with her delicate freckled face. 

I thanked her and decided to get something cheap to eat. I don’t really remember when that was. Frank’s Dogs greeted me with their very neon sign and very, very, drunk people. One guy’s hair looked like a cross between a rat's nest and its tail. 

“Can I just have a hotdog with ketchup and mustard?” I asked the 40-year-old man who looked like he wanted to kill me . . . or himself. 

“A dollar sixty-two” he held out his meaty hand. I gave him two bucks and let him keep the change. It wasn’t a great hot dog, but it was food. 

A group gathered not too far away, encircling someone on stage. Concerts seemed like a fun way to meet new people, but the pickpocketing and guys with too grabby hands always deterred me. Well, maybe this one time wouldn’t hurt. 

An oily man thrusted on stage ahead of me. He trusted his saxophone in the air wildly. It wasn't my favorite type of performance but he made it work. Everyone was jumping and thrashing their hair. Whoops and hollers encircled me and for the first time since leaving home I felt like I truly belonged. 

My eyes caught Sam and Michael not too far away, Micael was staring at something. It’s like he was entranced, I saw Sam try and shake him. I glanced to where he was looking and saw a thin, beautiful woman. She had delicate and sharp features, surrounded with a long dark curly maine. I see why he was transfixed, she was beautiful. 

“Hey,” a man next to me called. 

“Hi,” I said. 

“You like concerts?” He asked. He was a little bit taller than me with freckles and almost black silky hair. He was handsome, he reminded me of Jennifer. 

“Not really, but I’ve never really been to one, so I thought I’d try it out.” I said. I hoped he wasn’t trying to pickpocket me. 

“You want to keep watching or maybe we could go somewhere?” 

I glanced back over to where Sam and Michael were, but found that they’d left. SO was that girl. “Sure!” 

I found out that Adam was his name. He was a sporty, well-rounded, all-american boy. Mage the textbook definition of an average man and that was Adam. Albeit a little boring, his looks made up for it. 

He gestured over to a girl with long black hair, “That’s my sister.” He called out to her. ONce she turned around I realized it was Jenny from the jewelry store. 

She waved at me. I waved back. “I didn’t know Jenny was your sister.” 

“You know her?”

“Well, I met her today. I talked to the owner about getting a job.”

“Oh,” he nodded his head. “Cool, maybe we can see each other more often.” 

“Oh yeah?” I smiled back. “I’d like that.” It would be nice to make new friends. 

“Finally, I’ve been waiting forever!” Jenny softly hit her brother. 

“Sorry, I met one of your friends.” Adam hit her back. 

“Hey! I was gonna meet up with some friends. Sorry you met Adam.” She said. 

“No he’s fine!” I said. 

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’m gonna meet some friends after Adam coughs up the money he owes me. Want to join?” 

“Sure.” I liked the idea of having a few friends beside maybe Michael. He was nice, but I wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with me living with them. 

After Adam gave Jenny about what I thought was 30 bucks, we headed towards the Ferris wheel. Two girls, one looked like Meg Ryan and the other looked like super blonde Tiffany Darwish. The super blonde chick probably used a little too much Sun In. 

“Jenny!” The less blonde one searched for her. “Who's your friend?”

“Hey girls, and she’s (Y/N). She works with me at Brenda’s shop. You guys care if she joins?” 

“I don’t, but I gotta leave. Mom set my curfew early tonight.” Blonde Tiffany Darwish moned. “See ya!”

“By Sara!” they shouted in unison. 

“I'm Carrie by the way.” The other girl stuck out her hand. 

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m not bothering you guys, right?”

“No of course not,” Jenny patted my shoulder. “Let’s go on the Ferris wheel.” 

“But there’s too many of us.” Carrie pointed out. 

A hand clapped my shoulder. “I could be your ride, sugar.” 

“I could be your rider.” The shaggy guy from earlier said, “I’m Paul, sugar.”

I turned around to see some guy that looked like a less made up version of Dee Snider. I didn’t like the way he spoke to me. Those types of men always lead to trouble. 

“I’m not sugar.” 

“Sorry man, just trying to be friendly-”

“A little too friendly.” I scolded him. 

“Listen, I still want to ride with you. I’m sorry for being too upfront. If you get to know me better you might like me.” He threw his hands up in surrender.

I looked at Jenny and Carrie, they were absolutely smitten with him. Maybe he was trying to be nice. I don’t think either of these girls would be so flustered over a creep. Or I hoped not. 

Paul, I figured out his name was, turned out to not be a total creep. “-and if you look over there, way way in the distance, is a bridge that I jump off of from time to time.” He put his arms over the back of the seat, partially putting his arm around me. Paul had been pointing and laughing at almost every location telling me about his adventures. He didn’t seem like a bad guy. I hoped that he wasn't. 

We had reached the top. “So,” he looked at me, “you like hanging out with some cool cats like me?”

“Sure, this has been nice. Thank you for dialing it back a bit.”

“No probs man, I can do anything I set my mind to.”

“Like fly?” I joked. 

“Yeah.” Paul continued to stare at the boardwalk. He seemed serious. Very serious. It made me wonder. 

“You’re funny Paul.”

“That’s what draws the babes.”

I continued to stare out at the boardwalk eyeing people for fun. A man with white hair caught my attention. He was . . . staring intensely at me. It made me nervous. 

“Hey, Paul.” He looked at me. “I’ve had a nice time but I do have to get home. It was nice meeting you.”

“Oh.” He said. The ride jerked to a stop. “See ya.” 

“Bye.” I rushed off the ride

“Who was that guy?” Jennifer asked.

“I’m sorry Jenny, I’ll explain later. I have to go.” I rushed off. 

“Wait. Are you ok?’ She shouted after me. 

I needed to find Lucy. I needed to go home. Where would she be? I went back where she dropped my off. Maybe somehow she was waiting for me. Maybe she decided she had enough at left me for good. SHe probably realized I was taking up too much space, plus I was some stranger. What if I was a serial killer? 

I spotted a short red pixie cut in the distance. God, I hope it’s her. Once I got close I realized it was. 

“Oh, (Y/N). Are you alright, you look flustered. Did something happen?” She held my face. 

“No, no, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t leave without me.” I joked. 

“Honey, we wouldn’t leave without you.” She said in a serious tone. 

“I believe you, I’ve just been trying to find you.” 

“Ok. Sam, Nanook, and I are going back to the house. I don’t know where Michael’s gone off too.”

“Probably to follow some girl.” Sam scoffed. Lucy gave him a stern look. 

The car ride back was filled with anxiety. Sam and Lucy seemed content and spoke about small unimportant things. I kept thinking back to the white haired guy. What a freak. 

I made my way up to my room when Lucy stopped me. “Here’s some pajamas. They’re a little old, but I think they’ll fit.”

“Any pajamas are good pajamas. You have no idea how much help you are.”

“Oh, honey. I remember what it was like to be by myself for a while. It’s alright.” Her smile comforted me. 

I said goodnight and closed the door to my bed room. The windsor piqued my interest. It was open, the curtain blew slightly. I didn’t remember leaving them open, perhaps an intruder? Of course not, nothing was disturbed and my room is almost three stories up. 

White. 

I stared out into the California wilderness for a moment. It couldn't be. There was no way. He couldn’t have followed me home. THere was no way he knew where I lived. We would’ve seen headlights or heard him behind us if he followed. I shut the window and drew the curtains quickly. I don’t remember how long it took for me to go to sleep that night.

[passions-and-pupils]

Happy Homestuck Day! Have a rant about my favorite part of Homestuck

How Homestuck Portrays Adukts

In homestuck their are 8 total human guardians but today we are just gonna talk about the first four

the first thing you notice about these adults is just how diferent they look from the kids; mainly that they have one facial feature each, have completely different body proportions , and usually have 1 key obsession. This is Homestucks way of portraying adults through the eyes of the kids. The kids see their guardians as so fundamentally different than them and sometimes even as an antagonist so this is translated in their design by their proportions. They are tall and loom over the kids because to the kids they are the ultimate authority. They have few facial features because the kids don’t see them as fully human, at least not in the way we are. And they have a singular obsession each because those are the only things they really know about their guardians.

except they don’t have one singular obsession. Not really. It turns out John’s dad only put clowns everywhere and Rose’s mom only put Wizards everywhere because that’s what they thought their kids liked. Dave’s brother didn’t really LOVE puppets, he just had a singular puppet that was driving him insane (long story) and Jade’s grandfather wasn’t actually OBSESSED with taxidermy but because that was the only thing Jade knew about him before his passing she chose to believe that was all there was.

there is also one other thing about the guardians artistic portrayal that I enjoy, the way they portray abuse. You see when John fights his dad it’s a silly fight, John is just trying to get away from his dad to get to his video game outside while his dad wants to celebrate his son’s birthday with cake. This fight is very silly with John pie-ing himself in the face and then dropping the “sacred” texts on the ON FIRE cake and running while his dad deactivates the smoke detector.

Then there is Dave’s fight with his brother. Unlike the JohnVDad “fight” Bro actually fights Dave, and with a real sword none the less. And Bro absolutely beats up Dave for THREE ROUNDS not stopping untill Dave’s sword is broken and he lays on the pavement visibly injured. While it’s displayed as a fight it isn’t really, because unlike with John and his dad, Dave and his bro are not on equal footing. This isn’t a fight it’s a beating. Later in Homestuck, Dave acknowledges that it was never a fair fight. He thought his brother was trying to make him stronger, to prepare him for something but, when the time came he wasn’t any more prepared than John was.

and that’s getting into how Mom Lalonde is depicted so if you’re reading this and you haven’t read homestuck DO IT. It’s good.

[whinlatter]

trick or treat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ginny and the hummingbird: a meta

“Oh, look!” said Ginny, as they drew nearer, pointing at the very heart of the bell jar. Drifting along in the sparkling current inside was a tiny, jewel-bright egg. As it rose in the jar it cracked open and a hummingbird emerged, which was carried to the very top of the jar, but as it fell on the draft, its feathers became bedraggled and damp again, and by the time it had been borne back to the bottom of the jar it had been enclosed once more in its egg.

have wanted to write something about this moment with ginny in the department of mysteries for bloody ages so decided this trick or treat challenge was as good an excuse as any. the meta below explores the symbolism and significance of the bird in the bell jar in the series, and what it means for ginny and harry as characters. thank you for this @evesaintyves! 🐦

TW for brief discussions of mental health and suicidal ideation

‘He knew it at once by the beautiful, dancing, diamond-sparkling light. As Harry’s eyes became more accustomed to the brilliant glare he saw clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps. The source of the dancing, diamond-bright light was a towering crystal bell jar that stood at the far end of the room… He led the way forward down the narrow space between the lines of the desks, heading, as he had done in his dream, for the source of the light, the crystal bell jar quite as tall as he was that stood on a desk and appeared to be full of a billowing, glittering wind…

this tiny moment of ginny captivated by the plight of a hummingbird trapped in the bell jar in the room of time in the department of mysteries in OotP is one of my favourite scenes in the whole bloody series. it’s such a tiny, overlooked moment that raises a whole host of interesting world-building questions and potential character insights at a pivotal point in both harry and ginny’s character development. if we understand the different rooms of the department of mysteries as dedicated to those aspects of existence that are most mysterious and perhaps least explicable by magic (love, death, time…), it’s clear we’re supposed to think about the contents of the jar as a question.  the symbolism of the jar, the current of the wind, the hummingbird doomed to forever hatch but never to fly free, and especially the significance of having ginny be the character most entranced by it… it’s my lifelong hyperfixation, it’s the reason why all the chapter titles in beasts are bird-themed, it’s the reason i can’t sleep at night, it’s… the ginny and the hummingbird scene. so let’s ramble about it! 

what is the significance of the hummingbird in the bell jar?

i’ve broken this down into the following elements: the jar itself, the hummingbird, the progress of the bird, and the wind.

the jar itself: the enormous crystal jar of course suggests confinement of an object or creature for display and examination. the presence of a seemingly live bird existing within it is really evocative, too, because animals placed for display in bell jars are usually dead - it certainly makes me think of age of discovery taxidermy and famous museum collections of natural scientific material held here in the uk (often retrieved during colonial voyages and conquests). obviously, this is the department of mysteries, where wizards undertake research into mysterious magical queries, so the jar serves as an example of something that’s being studied and examined by department staff. but invoking the bell jar as an image, especially in a book that explores trauma and mental distress more than any book in the series, does inevitably bring to mind one of the most memorable images in twentieth century literature: the bell jar of sylvia plath. plath’s bell jar is a metaphor for the experience of being inside a person’s own tormented mind, within one’s own madness, a feeling of being isolated and trapped with nothing but thoughts of mental distress and of death. the text says the jar is ‘quite as tall as [Harry] was’, drawing the jar and harry’s own body together in a brief parallel in the reader’s mind. of course, that plath’s bell jar is such a specifically gendered construction that serves to illustrate the experience of female madness is also interesting to think about here, because it’s specifically ginny who is most drawn to the jar. OotP is the first book in the series that has ginny very briefly reveal her own private, lingering battle with her difficult traumatic memories and experience of extreme mental distress, alienation and torment. that it’s ginny who is transfixed by the bell jar i do not think is incidental. when the death eater later trips and falls into the jar, we discover that the jar is not made of crystal at all, but instead something magical, because the death eater’s head goes right through it without injury (more on what happens to him in the next bit). so the bell jar seems to give the illusion of a cage. that it’s the death eater’s head that penetrates its surface only futher reinforces these associations of the bell jar as some kind of equivalent of the human mind. 

the hummingbird: why a hummingbird! hummingbirds aren’t native to the UK, so having this bird under examination be a colourful, prominent beaked hummingbird adds to this sense of the ‘exotic’ (and of colonial discovery). the hummingbird itself has all these lovely sensory associations with colour and beauty, the humming sound of its wings in flight (suggesting a delicate nimble strength), and with flavour and the extraction of sweetness through its lovely long beak. the hummingbird represents a positive image of an endearing creature in pursuit, a stand-in for personhood, of a sympathetic living creature attempting to make its journey. because i am horrendous, i have spent too many afternoons rummaging around for the hummingbird in literature to try and think more about what the hummingbird is doing here. plath herself actually draws on the image of the hummingbird in her poem miss drake proceeds to supper, where she uses them to conjure up ideas of life’s fragility, describing a woman on a hospital ward, walking barefoot  towards a dinner table ‘among her secret combinations of eggshells/and breakable hummingbirds’. 

the most notable usage of the hummingbird as a motif in literature is by emily dickinson, where it features repeatedly in her poetry and correspondence. in ‘a route of evanescence’, dickinson describes the flight of the hummingbird - in transit and constant motion,an exoticised, sensory feast:

A Route of Evanescence, With a revolving Wheel - A Resonance of Emerald A Rush of Cochineal - And every Blossom on the Bush Adjusts it’s tumbled Head - The Mail from Tunis – probably, An easy Morning’s Ride –

the photograph above is taken from annie leibovitz’s 2011 collection of photographs called pilgrimages, which explores, among other things, the influence of emily dickinson on leibovitz’s work. (i’ve never really thought much about annie leibovitz, but this short blog on leibovitz’s photographs of hummingbirds in relation to dickinson is v interesting). dickinson is, of course, known for poems that engage explicitly in themes of death and natural, animalistic imagery (in the interest of the author being intensely problematic, condemnable and eyewateringly annoying but not dead, it’s worth noting that jkr is almost certainly aware of dickinson’s work, and i do wonder if this is a deliberate invocation. but we move)

the progress of the hummingbird: the endless birth and rebirth of the hummingbird, surrounded by a room of clocks and time-turners, is clearly supposed to invoke ideas about the passage of time and growth. the death eater whose head ends up in the jar ages backwards, his head becoming that of his own head as a baby (cue that great moment where harry goes to attack him and hermione goes ‘you can’t kill a baby!’ - she now views the death eater as an innocent). the hummingbird is born over and over again, rises on the current of the wind in the jar, but never succeeds in its flight. it’s not clear whether the hummingbird intends to escape from the jar, but it certainly can’t continue its progress in its life - it never makes it far down the life course, instead being returned, over and over, to the egg which bore it. 

the wind: the wind keeps blowing continuously - it is otherworldly, wind made up of glittering light. the wind is probably the most elusive aspect of the jar. is the wind supposed to represent time? is the wind something else - a different guiding hand, an external force over which the bird has no control and which determines the course of the bird’s life without any hope of intervention or redirection? it’s striking that the hummingbird keeps trying, over and over again, to make some kind of progress, before being returned to the confines of the egg. is this a moral point, about the constant pursuit of something - something sweet; in the canon of liberalism, of ‘the good life’, as a moral condition as well as a symbol of prosperity’ - against the wind’s wishes that try to blow it off course? maybe - but the wind seems to guide the hummingbird throughout - both in its birth, but also in its return, like the bird is at the mercy of the wind throughout.is the wind a stand in for some kind of omniscient god or external universal force, then? this is the bit i’m least satisfied thinking about, but which i will continue to ponder on my walks/in the bath/for hours as i try to sleep xoxo

…“Keep going!” said Harry sharply, because Ginny showed signs of wanting to stop and watch the egg’s progress back into a bird. “You dawdled enough by that old arch!” she said crossly, but followed him past the bell jar to the only door behind it.’

then there’s the why ginny question that i’m still very much stuck on. the bird could be seen as a stand in for something that unites the young characters of the series, a coming-of-age, a progress through time from childhood through to adulthood throughout the duration of the series (given the fruitlessness of the hummingbird’s plight, that’s certainly an interesting idea). ginny is not alone in being interested in what the characters find in the department: she, like many of the others, is intrigued and curious about many aspects of the department’s work, including the veil (“On the other side, Ginny and Neville were staring, apparently entranced, at the veil too. Without speaking, Hermione took hold of Ginny’s arm, Ron Neville’s, and they marched them firmly back to the lowest stone bench and clambered all the way back up to the door…”) but while the narration notes that harry, luna, neville and ginny are all drawn to the veil, the great symbol of death and barriers between the mortal world and the beyond, it’s so striking that only ginny seems entirely captivated by the hummingbird’s plight. what about ginny as a character suggests a singular interest in the progress of the hummingbird? does ginny - girl in flight - see herself in the hummingbird? is this one of the examples of foreshadowing ginny’s association with life, birth and family – maybe, but that’s kind of an unsatisfying answer, given the hummingbird seems to symbolise much more than that (and isn’t a linear illustration of birth, growth, life, and death). i did think that the hummingbird sort of mimics the life of fawkes the phoenix - reborn from the ashes, over and over again - with the phoenix obviously having a role in ginny’s rescue from the chamber. but i’m not happy with that either - fawkes is not that significant to ginny at any other point in the series (other than fawkes’ cry during dumbledore’s death, the night harry sets in motion his decision to accept the role of the chosen one and sever ties with ginny: ‘And so he steeled himself to say what he had known he must say ever since Dumbledore had died…’, HBP)

lastly – what to make of this conflict between harry and ginny?  harry, impatient to get to sirius, orders ginny away from the jar she is so entranced by; ginny calls him out on his hypocrisy, reminding him that he also slowed down to observe and ponder the veil. obviously it continues this theme of antagonism between the two of them that runs throughout ootp: they argue constantly in this book in very delicious ways, and ginny calls harry out on his hypocrisy two other times including this one (‘lucky you’ and ‘you’re too young’). while the narration does note how interested in the veil ginny is, it’s clear that harry is much less interested in the jar and the hummingbird than ginny, who is singularly captivated by it. so if harry is most interested in the veil, and the mystery of death, what does it mean that what most interests ginny is the mystery of time? i don’t know! and i would love to know other people’s thoughts, because i cannot make head nor tail of it. what do you reckon, folks?

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

WTNV quick rundown - Live Show - The Attic

Read the rest here!

Now, I usually do the live show rundowns approximately in line with whatever episodes were posted around the same time, but I've had this in my inbox a while and kind of want the draft gone so here it is! I'm sure not much happened between August 2022 and August 2023...right? /sarc

Featuring the voice of Meg Bashwiner as Deb and Sympthony Sanders as Tamika Flynn.

In space no one can hear you scream, but they can see you scream, oho, they can see you just fine, Welcome to Night Vale.

Cecil found a door to an attic he didn't know he had, in which he finds a projector and slides from a childhood trip to the grand canyon which he didn't remember taking until he touched the slides.

Cecil plays the slides for 'everyone' even though only he can see them. He has nothing but positive memories of the trip, they are good memories but they feel completely brand new to Cecil as he remembers them. Such as;

Cecil brought up a beaver from his trip which pees in Abby's bed and she doesn't talk to him for a week. He also took home a snake that he claims looked like his mother, so he named it mother. It had a 'non-traditional number of tails'. He also remembers taking a stuffed animal (a taxidermy peasant) on the trip, which he left behind.

He keeps realising he's not sure who is taking the photos, especially one of them all sleeping. The pictures get weirder and weirder as he goes through them. The memories less perfect.

He plays it one last time and it shows a portal inside of the grand canyon, followed by the stairs to his attic. Cecil decides he must investigate the attic.

Cecil hasn't been the only one discovering a door to an previously unknown attic. He figures out that all the doors lead to the same attic, which contains the perfect object for each of them. A object which could not be perfect outside of the Attic due to now existing in an imperfect world and therefore started to change and warp.

Cecil is forced to admit that there was no family ropad trip to the Grand Canyon. His mother would talk about it sometimes and put them in the car but she would just turn back and tell them to go to bed.

Cecil decides he must create new memories. Therefore, Carlos, himself and Esteban will be going to the Grand Canyon once they figure out where it is and how to get out of NV to get there.

He also figures out via runes found in the Attic which match Wendy's new runic name that it's part of their new campaign to create a perfect burger. Greg, their new life coach, is the one who gave them advice to create this interdimensional space where everything is perfect. After this, Greg is giving up the life coach business after advising them to do this and opening a curiosity shop in Maine.

Weather: "Words Are Hooks" by Danny Schmidt

Other people affected and what they found include; Tamika Flynn, who found a doll called Wretched Gretchen. She has fond memories of the doll for a while, before realising she is holding a pumpkin not a doll and having more negative memories of it. She was apparently more charmed when it was being creepy as opposed to cute.

Larry Leroy found an old air riffle he believes he used to shoot tin cans with and he used to have tournaments with his brother. Later it turns to memories of shooting birds - none of which are real.

Dana believes she found an old saga gensis she used to play with it with her grandfather. Later it turns into a shoe box full of mud which when reached into is deeper than it looks and contains her grandfathers watch, stopped at the exact time of his death.

Jackie Fierro found an old novel she used to love which she used to read to escape her rocky childhood. Later she realises it just hasn't held up. This is apparently true.

Harrison Kip believes he found a first edition mint condition Lee Marvin baseball card from his rookie year. This confuses Cecil because he doesn't remember Lee Marvin ever getting into baseball, but Harrison insists he played for the NV Orange Milks and then got into movies after that. His card might actually be a copy of Wuthering Heights.

Cecil also remembers through the sides, having a childhood dog, black and white, floppy ears, loved to eat dice called Backgammon (or Gammy). He also used to call his grandmother Gammy, who he says he played with, but also that she died before either he or Abby was born. Also Gammy the grandmother used to act very bizarrely.

Cecil's has a therapist, an iguana called Eugene over at the Pet Co' who 'really listens'.

Cecil teaches children about meditation in the Fun Facts Science Corner. Apparently the military wants to try and use meditation to create super soldiers. Cecil tries to guide everyone in meditation but accidentally teaches them to teleport and can't get them back home.

Harrison Kip's religion bans suspense and knock knock jokes. They also apparently cut a man open once. A part of the dogma involves being told to 'get real'. It involves a '12th god in the 4th circle'.

Cecil and Harrison both used to cuddle up with the radio to sleep.

Cecil's mother only wanted him to do activities that would be useful later, like tongue twisters and kite eating.

The actual news for the day is this; there is a fire raging in the scrublands, all of the trees were stolen, the portal on Portal Road is spitting out shadowy shapes and hissing prophecies into everyones ears, today is the day that they chose one citizen to be thrown into the big NV into the big pit of fun.

Monday is now called 'The Best Day'. Friday is now 'Boring McBad Day'.

Dark Owl Records is holding a workshop for those wanting to become a musician. There will be a 7 hour presentation which will tell you why being a musician is actually passe. It costs $50.

There are tryouts happening for a cheerleading soccor squad. Captain Rowan O'Donahue is the cheerleading captain and comes on the air to talk about the tryouts. He says soccor games are called soccor appointments. He tells us a brief history of cheerleading, claiming it came from Norman times. He says in England soccor is called lacrosse. He gets everyone to do a call and response chant. Those who don't make it will be put on 'a list'. Just 'a list'.

Abby used to be a cheerleader and was the smallest on her team. Being a cheerleader apparently involves some kind of trial where you collect life pendants.

Cecil's room apparently has no windows, blood stains which are still wet and human and chips of bones in it.

You can apparently get your eyes removed and cleaned at the sunglasses place in NV.

Apparently Cecil (after seeing The Craft) started to dabble in witchcraft.

There is apparently a Cave of Despair in NV which Cecil tries to trick a Leo (any Leo, all Leo's) into.

Joan of Arc was a photographer, according to Cecil.

Cecil becomes aware that music plays whenever he starts to talk and starts to question why and where it comes from. He plays around by saying different things in different tones to change the music. He then discovers that there is indeed a man close by to him playing music and is surprised by the fact. He suggests swapping places with the man. The man is kind of embarassed and not sure what to say and Cecil is not very good at playing music either. The man tries to tell a joke but 'doesn't understand humour'.

Stay tuned next for a line of people on stage and other people nabging their hands together. And from all the memories I have ahead of me to all the memories you have ahead of you. Goodnight Night Vale, good night.

[spacerangersam]

Could you tell me more about some of your ocs???? (Only if you’re up for it tho)

I’m always down to gush about my ocs! But I do have a lot of them, especially with the story I'm currently working on, and I don’t always know what to say, so sorry if this is a bit all over the place. This isn’t even everyone, I left out a few like the main antagonist, Irene and a few other side characters for the sake of this not being essay length but yeah. Here are some of the main guys:

(also, unless otherwise specified, they're all welsh)

Simon Huw Taylor, 32, tenant of flat no. 6, he/they, bi and ace (maybe on the aro spectrum, but idk. It’s none of my business).

He’s the main character of my story, Where the Lost Souls Meet. He’s a pretty quiet guy who likes to keep to himself, much to his own detriment. He’s been travelling around all his life, never really interacting with people his own age, leaving him with mediocre socialising skills. He can see ghosts, has been able to since childhood, and is a mortician while doing psychic ghost stuff on the side. His mum could also see ghosts and she also did the ghost business, which is why he and his parents were moving around all the time, basically living in their van/hotels). To honour her, Simon uses her maiden name for ghost work (meaning his name is then Simon Huw Hughes, which I just thought was cute). She died a few years back, his father even earlier, leaving Simon the last of his family line and all alone in the world.

His whole life revolves around death, which isn’t healthy but Simon would rather die than go to therapy and actually address his problems, so it stays that way for a while. He does try to quit smoking though, so that’s something. He is also a liar. Dear god does he love to lie about everything and anything, to everyone. Well, I say loves to lie, he doesn’t really love it. He does it both to keep himself safe and to keep others from worrying about him. Honestly, he’s fine, he’s functional, and he definitely has family who loves him. Just don’t ask to meet his ‘sister’. He also tries to protect people by keeping a certain distance from them, not wanting to hurt them like he’s been hurt because of [REDACTED], which is why he kept moving around even after his mother died. But he desperately wanted top surgery and so stopped in this town with a well-known trans-safe doctor to get it done, and unfortunately for him landed in a manor turned flat filled with people who very much would like to be his friends, please.

He has no hope for the future, no plans, having a fairly pessimistic look on life because of [REDACTED], and is basically just waiting for the day he finally dies. Again, will he do anything about this? Maybe, eventually, at some point.

He doesn’t like / struggles to watch TV and movies, his ideal night involves doing puzzles and maybe a spot of reading, he loves puns and he’s a vegetarian. I love him and his terrible coping mechanism. Go king, communicate absolutely nothing and never let people share your burdens. 

Also, his neighbour dies in front of him during an argument one day, which isn't great, going on to haunt Simon in a distinctly violent fashion, which is the thing he's desperately trying to deal with in the story.

more losers under the cut

Charlie Tops, 35, tenant no. 5, he/him, trans bi+ace. He’s a very sweet guy, very open, with major himbo energy, just without the muscles. He makes the best tea and the worst coffee. He writes kid's books in the vein of Winnie the Pooh / Peter Rabbit, taking over the job after his grandfather passed, now writing them for his own daughter, Lottie. But Lottie’s getting older and losing interest in those types of books, and so he’s losing interest in writing them and having a mild panic over what he’ll do next. He’s kinda obsessed with taxidermies. His flat is quite literally filled with them and no one likes it, nobody wants to be in there, and the vibes are way off (except Will for, who thinks it’s very interesting, actually).

He’s deeply in love with Simon and they have a thing. An unexplained, deeply intimate thing that neither talk about, mostly because Simon can’t communicate for shit (which he feels deeply guilty about, and he keeps telling himself that he’ll break it off but can never quite work up to it), and Charlie’s worried if he asks, Simon will end it. He really struggles with Simon’s whole silent martyr ordeal even outside their thing because even if he doesn’t know the extent to which Simon is trying to hide his problems, he knows there is something being hidden, but again, is worried about pushing too hard and losing him completely. It’s messy, but they’ll work through it. 

He can’t see ghosts but does know about them, unlike the other Woodward tenants, and feels a bit left out /awkward about the whole thing. He had an amicable divorce from his wife Irene after he realised he was ace, she realised she was aro, and that they were both trans, the two staying friends and her staying on as the illustrator for his books. And as I mentioned earlier, he does have a daughter, Lottie.

William Isaiah Beaton, 30, tenant no. 7, he/him, gay, English. An archivist for the local museum who moves into the manor in chapter one, and comes off as a tough, rude ex-vet.  And that is true, to a certain extent. He is rude, and an ex-vet. But he wasn’t in the army for long, he got mowed down by a car on base like, two weeks after arriving, leaving him with a permanent injury to his leg. He feels he failed to live up to his father’s expectations, and in shame, never told the truth to his father about having to leave the forces. Will has… a lot of complicated feelings about that, and his relationship with his father, and his relationship with his religion. He works some of that last one out with help from Penny.

It’s a bit of a spoiler, but whatever- he can see ghosts. He doesn’t realise that’s what’s happening though and instead is fully convinced he’s just losing his mind, and that crash did irreparable damage to his head. Nah though, just ghosts. Has a guilty love of werewolf media and cake, and cares a lot about bugs and plants (he even ends up taking Simon’s plants off him, because Simon kills every plant he owns, without question). He has limited zero social skills and finds big groups overwhelming, but nevertheless, he will be dragged into this friendship group (if Penny has any say in it, at least). He came to Hangar for a reason, though he doesn’t say why.

He also definitely fancies Simon and has no idea how to handle that. It’s the first time he’s fancied a man (or at least, a man-adjecent person) who isn’t straight, and that coupled with the fatc Simon actually seems to like him is just a lot for him to process. The two of them bond over their shared loved of history / interest in the history of the manor.

I should make it clear: this isn’t a love triangle, this is poly thing.

The ghouls:

Florence Blossom (left), 40, and Gwenllian Baker (right), 42. Both were performers in a small acting trope who died in 1941 (though not at the same time or in the same way, funnily enough) in the manor Simon lives in. They love each other very much.

Florence is a bit judgy, loves a good moan, and is very anxious about everything and everyone, always. Her anxiety tends to make her come off as a bit snappy. She can control the lights.

Gwen is a bit vacant, with her head absolutely in the clouds at all times. She struggles a bit with empathy and reading the room, leading her to be mindlessly cruel sometimes. She never means it though and genuinely cares about Simon and Florence, and will look after them both in her own weird ways. she can lock, unlock, close and open doors

Now back to the living:

Agatha Jeorme, 55, tenant  no. 1. She’s kinda like if an angsty teen was stuck in the body of a middle-aged woman, and we love her for that. She’s the daughter of the landlord and hates it. If she had any other skills / if her father had helped her get a better opportunity elsewhere like he did with her brothers, she would have jumped on it. But instead, he gave her the job of looking after Woodward. She hates him, deeply. She often shovels off small jobs onto Simon because she knows he won’t say no, and is having an affair with the next-door neighbour’s wife. I kind of made her sound like a bastard, and she is kinda, but a fun one I hope, and she does learn to be less of a bastard as the story goes on. 

Gwynfor Geraint Jones, 34, tenant no. 2, he/she, bigender, aroace. Just a chill guy who loves rock music and slasher movies. She’s in a QPR with Adam, them being the first two to move into Woodward. this isn't entirely related to his character, but he's called gwynfor geraint after two twins i went to primary school with. their names always stuck in my head, in so i thought i'd put them to good use.

Adam Diana Keats, 36 tenant tenant, no.3, she/her, aroace trans woman, Scottish. She’s a librarian with a love of reading, especially poetry, and a bit pushy, a bit bossy, but ultimately well-meaning. She’ll drag Simon out of his room but with the intent to encourage him to mingle and hang out with the Woodward crew, you know. She hates Will on sight. There’s more I could say, but that would be spoilers. also, despite her dark academic vibes, she does love a good animal print

Penny Sion Seagrove, 29, no.4, she/her, lesbian. A tired, friendly gardener who would love it if everyone would get along and be friendly. She sometimes sticks her nose in places she shouldn’t to figure out people’s beef with each other (cough, Adam and Will, cough) to see if she can find a way to squash it for them, which doesn’t usually work. She tries anyway. She’s Catholic, shares Simon’s love of puns, and is dating Alice.

Alice Rhodri Blackwood, 30, she/her, trans lesbian. She lives in town with her best mate Mickey. She’s a loud, cheery, extroverted goth with an interest in witchcraft who can also see ghosts. She has slightly different opinions about ghosts and how they work from Simon, but she’s still his go-to when he’s having ghost issues. 

Mickey Dolores Palmer, 29, she/her, English (Yorkshire). Idk what her deal is, and she just is, you know. A very nervous, clumsy, mousy person who works at the local museum. She tends to jump to conclusions and is not a fan of ghosts. Unfortunately, she can also see ghosts, so that’s not great for her. She's doing her best.

god i wrote way too much for this, sorry asdfghj. but uh, also, i did a voice claim video for some of these losers, if you're interested. also,t hank you so much for asking. i do love talking about these idiots

[a-hell-of-a-time]

Muse List for Android Users

Muses

Canon:

Name: Octavia

Nicknames: Via, Starfire, Princess, My Owlette, Sweetie

Age: 17 (Canon); 18 (Current blog canon)

Birthday: August 20th

Orientation: Biromantic Asexual

Likes: Astrology, taxidermy, depressing punk music, reading, spending time with her dad, learning magic

Dislikes: Her parents fighting, her dad’s affair with Blitzo, her parents being overprotective, rip offs, fearing she’ll be abandoned/left alone by her dad

Occupation: Princess of the Goetia family, precautionary heir

Bio: Can be found HERE.

Some notes:

My Octavia is a minor, so no sexual nsfw or other things with her. She is also not open to shipping at this time.

While she loves Stolas deeply, Octavia holds some resentment and anger towards him, namely his affair with Blitzo and fears that her father will choose him over her. As such she tries to put some distance between herself and Stolas and comes off as hostile at times. It’ll require work and constant assurance to regain her trust and repair the bond that was damaged, both by the affair and by her parent’s rapidly deteriorating marriage.

Her human fc is Mitake Ran from Bandori/Bang Dream.

Depending on how the series goes/butchers things, Octavia may become canon divergent.

Relations:

Stolas (Father) - grimowled (default)

Stella (Mother) -

Paimon (Grandfather) -

Andrealphus (Uncle) - lovegamed

Asmodeus (Uncle) - houseofasmodeus

Verses:

Octavia Morningstar - She was adopted by Lucifer (themosthatedbeingg) during her parent’s divorce and is no longer a Goetia.

Birds of a Feather (Default) - Octavia and Phel (keeperofquestions) meeting while under Stolas’s (grimowled’s) care.

Happy Wedding? - Verse where Phel and Via are arranged to be wed.

————————————————–

Name: Andrealphus

Nicknames: Andre, Andy, Arrogant Prick (Stolas probably, or anyone else having to put up with him)

Age: Early 40’s (Hell years/appearance wise)

Birthday: December 22nd

Human fc: Camus (Uta no Prince Sama)

Occupation: Marquis of Hell (One of them)

Likes: Obtaining power, authority, status, being rich, spending time with Stella, his niece, the cold, Caim (his best friend/estranged wife), being the centre of attention because ofc he would, being pretty (probably)

Dislikes: Stolas, not having power/control/status, the poor/being poor, the heat

Orientation: Gay and polyamourous.

Personality: Pretty much your run of the mill haughty, arrogant, self absorbed rich person who is very pretty and very much punchable. Has an over inflated ego and sense of self because money, but is also very calculating, clever and cunning. While he adores Stella, Andrealphus does have limits and can only take so much of her behaviour before snapping.

He does have a softer, more caring side toward his niece and Caim, but he refuses to show it in public because he has an image to maintain.

More can be found HERE.

Abilities/powers:

Cryokinesis - Controls and manipulates ice Intellect Swordsmanship - Has a sword made of ice as his primary weapon

Small Bio (Canon to this blog only): A marquis of Hell, Andrealphus was born into the Goetia family and attained his mansion and legions from his father. When he was a child, he met and befriended Caim when she was training in Hell. The two became quite close, which led to their respective families to propose a marital union between the two. On her father’s end, this was an attempt to keep Caim in hell and move up her place in the Goetia hierarchy. For Andrealphus’s family, since he could not marry up, they wanted to marry him off so the title of marquis would stay with their family via any potential heirs.

The two eventually wed, but after their son was born, both agreed to live their own lives how they saw fit. However, they had to keep any and all partners a secret, and had to pretend to be a couple when it came to goetian affairs/meetings. Caim soon moved back to the mortal realm and married Yui while also raising her son with both her wife and husband to this day.

Note: My Andrealphus will be canon divergent, despite whatever the show decides to do with him. I will not condone incest, or have him act in an incestuous way to his sister because that shit’s nasty.

Andrealphus Headcanon Masterpost

Relations:

Stella (Sister) -

Octavia (niece) - starsaught (default)

Stolas (Ex brother in law) -

An Important Note on my shipping preferences with regards to Icyago.

Verses:

Estranged: Canon default (With Caim, my OC) anytime Caim is mentioned.

Fire and Ice (default) - Ship verse for Andrealphus and Vassago (checkingintohell-jc)

Frozen Court - Verse where Phel serves Andrealphus (keeperofquestions)

Frozen Beauty: Fem!Andrealphus verse where she goes by Andrea.

Fallen From Grace: Post canon verse where Andrealphus loses everything and is exiled to live among the lower classes for the rest of eternity. More information can be found HERE and HERE

Andre/Beej - Ship verse for Andrealphus and Beetlejuice (micsmasmuses)

Fogged Lenses - Ship verse for Andrealphus and William (akumanomorii)

Arctic Archive - Ship verse for Andrealphus and Jillian (copaceticjillybean

——————————–

OC’s:

Name: Caim

Alternative names/nicknames: Caimo

Human Face claim: Yor Forger (SpyxFamily)

Age: Early 40’s (Hell years); 400 (youkai)

Birthday: April 17th

Orientation: Lesbian

Relationship status: Married x2

Husband: Andrealphus (on paper)

Wife: Yui

Father - Earl Raum (@fortiethkey)

Species: Part thrush bird demon, part crow (corvid) tengu youkai

Occupation: Great President of Hell (formerly in one verse); Working various odd jobs in the human world.

Likes: Her wife, swordsmanship, training, some members of the Goetia family (Andrealphus), her mother, her father

Dislikes: Dishonesty, disloyalty, pompous idiots (Andrealphus is the only exception but he’s on thin ice at times.)

Personality: Caim is generally a no nonsense woman with a stern demeanour. She values loyalty and will not tolerate anything underhanded, or anyone who engages in such methods. Due to being half youkai, Caim struggles to fit into both her society and the nobility of hell but manages to make the best of both worlds work, with the help of her wife and husband.

If you are someone she loves and holds dear, she will go to hell and back for you. However, if you were to ever cross her, you will be met with a swift, steel strike.

More TBA later.

History: Born to Earl Raum (@fortiethkey) in the Ars Goetia and a tengu warrior, Caim was trained to be a soldier and commander from an early age. Her skills with the sword were evident from a young age and she was quickly deemed a prodigy. Her mother was a highly respected and revered warrior, though when she met Caim’s father, their union caused a stir among her compatriots. Youkai, who were powerful spirits of the Earth, did not take kindly to the beings inhabiting heaven or hell, and saw this union as a grave transgression of their way of life. As a result, most youkai began to shun Caim, along with her mother.

Despite this, Caim would end up travelling to hell on occasion to be trained under her father in the hopes of her attaining her title and legions and a spot in the Goetia family hierarchy. To this point she was arranged to be wed to a member of said family (Andrealphus), and to birth an heir, which she did despite her mother’s wishes for her to abandon the goetia entirely to live among the youkai on earth.

Caim would eventually return to the mortal realm and wed one of her childhood friends, Yui, with whom she raised her son and become estranged from her husband. This estrangement was a mutually agreed upon arrangement between her and Andrealphus, which allowed them to keep up appearances while living very different, separate lives privately.

Caim and Yui work among the humans in the mortal realm, with the former often going to hell to perform her duties and see to her son’s goetic education under his father.

More TBA later.

Abilities:

Extreme Speed Magic pertaining to electricity, opening/summoning portals, teleportation, etc.

Swordsmanship

Verses:

Estranged: Canon default (With Caim, my OC) anytime Caim is mentioned.

————————————–

Name: Yui

Face claim: Yae Miko (Genshin); Yukime (The Eminence in Shadow) (When in Hell she takes on a more fox like demon appearance similar to Beelzebub.)

Age: 500 (youkai/human years), looks to be about late 30’s/early 40’s

Birthday: May 29th

Orientation: Lesbian

Relationship status: Married

Wife: Caim

Species: Kitsune youkai (five tailed)

Occupation: Works various part time jobs

Likes: Her wife, mischief, pranks, having fun, parties, teasing Andrealphus

Dislikes: Hell nobility (Specifically the Goetia family), anything boring, too many customs/rules.

Personality: Yui is a very fun loving, playful, mischievous woman who likes to stir the pot whenever possible. She shows a more mature, serious side when working but still retains her playful nature. As a high ranking youkai in terms of spiritual power, she wields a certain amount of influence in youkai circles, more so than her wife. However, when she is in hell she is treated the same as a hell hound due to her fox-like appearance until they get a taste of her power. Yui enjoys teasing others, especially members of the Goetia nobility (namely Andrealphus because it is fun to get under his skin. She makes it a personal mission to fluster the hell out of him, much to Caim’s exasperation.)

Short Bio: Yui was born into a rather prestigious youkai clan, and most of her life involved the strict rules and mannerisms of the upper class society. This would often clash with her mischievous, fun personality and was a source of tension among her family. It also isolated her from a good chunk of her peers, though she would find a friend in Caim who was raised in a similar manner as herself. The two would quickly bond over their experiences, and as they grew older, this bond would deepen into something more.

Once Yui came of age, she fled from the confines of her clan and took on a human guise, fully intending to experience a more free life. Caim would end up marrying her after many years, and the pair now live together in a small house on the outskirts of Tokyo.

——————————

Name: Dawn

Age: Early 30’s in Hell Years

Birthday: July 21st

Species: Avian Demon (White tailed kite)

Orientation: Lesbian

Title: Princess

Group: Ars Goetia

Family: Paimon (father), many (half) siblings

Likes: Sweets, tea, soft music, fencing, tennis

Dislikes: Noise, disruption, chaos

Personality (WIP): Dove, at first meeting comes off as a rather quiet, shy, yet polite woman. Strictly raised in the royal ways, she takes the phrase ‘seen, but not heard’ to heart and strives to be the most perfect mannered princess she can possibly be.

However, those who are close to Dawn know that she can be rather chatty, bubbly, kindhearted and warm. She will do anything for those she loves, and she knows her way around a rapier if you really want to fuck around and find out.

Dawn is also a fan of sports, namely tennis and badminton and is quite good at both. She also moves quickly and with a precision not many would expect of someone like her.

History (WIP):

Dawn is one of Paimon’s many children, as well as one of the youngest. Like the rest of his children, Dawn never saw much of him growing up, nor was afforded any sort of special attention. She was not magically gifted like some of the other goetia, so Dawn was often looked over in favour of those who possessed some level of magical ability.

She spent most of her time with her mother, and still lives in her mother’s home to this day. She is yet to be wed or engaged, which has been a bone of contention between Dawn and her mother that continues to this day. Little does her mother know that she is not attracted to men in the slightest and does not desire an heir; this is a secret she keeps close to the point that not many outside her closest friends know.

This character is a WIP and more will be added as she’s fleshed out!

Verses:

Candiedapple - Ship verse for Dawn and Charlie (applethorn)

———————————————-

Focalors

Name: Focalors Age: ??? Gender: Female Sexuality: Pan

Appearance: Canadian Goose Goetia

Human FC: Focalors (Genshin Impact) Position/Title: Great Duchess of Hell

Relations:

Father - King Baal (smokebaal)

Personality:

She is feared by many for her temperament, for when she is crossed, the fool who decided to transgress is often left in worse shape than when they started. Focalors is a non nonsense kind of gal who is not afraid to run her mouth and use her fists or weapons to do the talking. However, if you manage to get into her good graces, she will listen and be obedient, to a degree.

She is also notorious for her selection of suitors: If they cannot best her in battle, then they are too weak and undeserving of her time and attention. She will accept only the strongest spouse and so far no one has stepped up to the plate or has proven their worth.

Bio:

Focalors is a powerful Great Duchess of Hell, commanding three or thirty legions of spirits. Focalors is mentioned in The Lesser Key of Solomon as the forty-first of the 72 goetic demons. According to the grimoire: Focalors kills men, drowns them, and overthrows warships; but if commanded by the conjurer, will not harm any man or thing. Focalor has power over wind and sea, and had hoped to return to heaven after one thousand years, but was deceived in his hope.

Abilities/Powers:

Hydrokinesis: The ability to summon and manipulate water for both offensive and defensive purposes

Ability to control and manipulate wind

Enhanced physical strength and endurance

Weapons:

A trident

More TBA at a later date!

————————–

Name: Yukitaka (meaning Noble Snow)

Nicknames: Yuki, hellspawn,

Parents: Andrealphus (father), Caim (mother), Yui (mother)

Age: 15 going on 16

Orientation: Gay

Likes: fighting, swordsmanship, hanging out with his friends, festivals, soccer, parkour, snowboarding, Chikao (his boyfriend, a nekomata), the cold

Dislikes: Ryuu (rival, dragon youkai), goetian politics, the heat,

Occupation: Precautionary heir, next great marquis

Personality: (Note: This is a heavy WIP since he’s a new OC that’s still being fleshed out)

Loud, brash, brazen (a quick tongue that has gotten him into plenty of trouble) and confident to the point of arrogance are just some of the adjectives used to describe Yuki. He is not afraid to call things as he sees it, nor afraid to speak up for himself should the situation warrant it. He is equal parts of both parents when it comes to his attitude and fearlessness, caring little for the intricacies of goetian decorum in favour of pursuing his own interests.

He can be rash at times, especially when faced with something that catches his interests. He is known for getting swept up easily in his emotions and the adrenaline rush of a good fight, or the height of a soccer game, or when participating in sports that Caim has considered reckless and which threaten to put her in an early grave.

When it comes to his combat skills, Yuki is quite proud and fearless; he won’t hesitate to challenge opponents stronger than him, and will meet any challenge head on. This has led to him often rushing in, sometimes without thinking, and ending up with more than his fair share of injuries.

Despite this, Yuki is highly intelligent, a good strategist and has a good heart that looks out for the people he cares for the most, such as his friends and family. He isn’t one for injustice and if someone has wronged him or his loved ones, he won’t hesitate to make things right or settle the score.

Tl;dr: This kid is a cocky little shit who is too smart for his own good and runs his mouth like nothing else. He’s also the kid that will help you in a pinch while also threatening to fight any enemies of yours. Or anyone in general if they’re strong enough. He may/may not value his own safety and is a bit too reckless.

He means well though.

History: Born to the Great Marquis, Andrealphus, and the Great President of Hell, Caim, Yukitaka is a goetian with the blood of his tengu (youkai) ancestors running through his veins. He spends most of his days living with his mothers just outside of Tokyo, but he also spends an equal amount of time in Hell learning to be a proper goetia. He attends one of the local high schools and is the top student, as well as one of the stars of his school’s soccer team.

Approaching his 16th birthday, Yuki awakened his cryokinetic powers, prompting Caim to speed up his training and to have his father teach him how to wield his powers. She also explained how, once he turns eighteen, Yuki will have to choose between following in his father’s footsteps, or remaining in the human world.

To prepare for this future decision, Yuki continued to split his time between his father’s mansion in Hell, and his family home in the human world. While at his father’s he trains to master the demonic abilities inherited from his father, along with the ins and outs of goetian politics, all the while remaining hidden from the Ars Goetia at large. While in the human world, Yuki continues with his studies in the hopes of graduating high school with his friends.

Should he make the decision to follow in his father’s footsteps, he would be initiated into the Ars Goetia, and his identity revealed to the nobility at large. Should he stay in the human world, he would have to continue living among humans and taking on mundane jobs all the while hiding his identity and abilities.

More TBA.

Powers/Abilities:

Cryokinesis: Can manipulate ice and snow for a wide variety of uses (offence - weapons; defence - shields; weather manipulation (can cause blizzards, drop the temperature to sub zero, etc.)

Extreme Speed: Can move as fast as any tengu, appearing as a blur to the untrained eye.

Swordsmanship

High endurance

Weapon of choice: Katana

Verses:

Noble Snow: The main/default verse for Yukitaka.

[guiltswept]

WE'RE  MAKING  OUT  INSIDE  CRASHED  CARS  /  WE'RE  SLEEPING  THROUGH  ALL  OUR  MEMORIES  /  I  USED  TO  WASTE  MY  TIME  DREAMING  OF  BEING  ALIVE  /  (  NOW  I  ONLY  WASTE  IT  DREAMING  OF  YOU  )  —  MEET  BABE  MORI.

...content warnings for... parental & familial death, mentions of a car accident, night terrors, stalking, harassment, implied gun violence, and drugs.

profile.

full name — paloma mori.

nickname(s) — babe! that chick over there. friend :)

place of birth — blue harbor, illinois.

date of birth & age — august 13th, 1997. twenty7.

gender / pronouns — demi woman, she / they.

sexuality — bisexual.

occupation — stripper at tba. amateur taxidermist. scene queen. professional raver. PLUR princess.

astrology — leo sun, leo moon, leo rising.

residence — her family's apartment above their beer & noodle shop in cardinal hill. the apartment is a mix of fratboyisms ( liquor bottles as decor, beer boxes as wallpaper, led strip lights half - falling off the walls ) and babe's... everything ( random crystals and band posters, cheetah print, loose plastic beads in every corner because none of them vacuum enough... so many taxidermy projects ).

interests — stick and poke tattoos; giving and receiving. edm. "scenecore". bright, neon colors. never washing her eyeliner off. pop punk. whiny vocals. nostalgic cartoons. fun and silly taxidermy. cooking for her friends; cooking as a release. dancing, in all forms. candy. glittery stickers. cheetah print. sex and love, and sex without love. skateboarding. reacting impulsively. demonias. fishnets. graffiti and vandalism. adrenaline rushes and cheap thrills. doing what she's told not to do. living her best life even if it's doomed. beer. her grandfather's recipes. mdma. loud, crunchy, static.

aversions — admitting that she has a god complex. taking responsibility for her actions. the way she can't stop when she cries. being dismissed. not being adored and loved. being alone for too long; long periods of silence. people who take themselves too seriously. being shamed. taking her medication. sleeping; her night terrors. thunderstorms, though she says she loves them. muted colors. art museums. bras. when she's not the one to end the relationship. being confronted with the truth, or reality.

quirks — falls in love and/or lust too easily, and will spend weeks fantasizing and obsessing over one person at a time. never lasts long in relationships except for one that's constantly on the frays. has no volume control in public and speaks without thinking. can be insensitive at times. loves convincing others to get matching tattoos with her. kicks in her sleep ( when it occurs ). always says she can handle her liquor but is always the first one drunk. is minorly allergic to alcohol but it will not stop her.

most played — IN MY MOUTH by black dresses.

notable features — straight black bangs and even straighter hair that's always tangled in the wind. a collection of glitter that never leaves her face. a few lovingly placed beauty marks and a full bottom lip that's always bitten raw.

general disposition — electric, energetic; a nonstop force until she's simply not.

character study — ilana wexler ( broad city ) & juliet starling ( lollipop chainsaw ).

background.

parental death / car accident; she's raised by her maternal grandfather and uncle, smack dab between her two brothers - their parents died in a car crash when her younger brother was just a baby, babe still too young to remember them much, or the accident that took place.

they live in a small apartment atop their grandfather's restaurant - a small noodle & beer shop that welds just enough profit for them to get by.

has been called babe her entire life - sometimes her grandfather says its because after her older brother had watched the movie of the same name, he thought she looked so pink and pig - like.

night terrors; is diagnosed with night terrors at a very young age - her cries and screams wake their household nightly, tiny limbs thrashing about like undergoing an exorcism. every night, on repeat - again and again. sleep paralysis becomes common - strange figures always lurking in her doorway, fingers curling over her doorframe - insomnia after that, because babe can no longer stand to sleep.

as a kid there's only so many explanations to her diagnosis - none feel right, a girl always in denial - settles on the belief that maybe she's a medium. that maybe what she sees are just spirits reaching out for her - wanting her help. she's so young, her family just thinks she'll grow out of the belief - but she never does. it's better than acknowledging the truth - of the deaths she's tethered to.

grows up the weird girl - the girl who talks to nothing, the girl who says she's really seen bloody mary in the mirror - the girl who's always bruised from taking a fall from her skateboard, over and over again - the girl who never learns. the girl who set the robotics club room on fire, and was banned from competitions from there on. always plenty smart - but terrible at utilizing it.

death; her grandfather dies shortly after babe's high school graduation - and college seems like a distant memory. she'd been serious about it, once - but now she needs to help out where she can. her uncle's taking over the restaurant with her oldest brother in tow - her youngest already picking up jobs when he should be studying. babe hates to see them struggle - hates how palpable the grief is in the air, how thick it is - how she can barely breathe.

she gets a job at the strip club as a dancer - she's young and charismatic, muscle built from years of roughhousing - it reels in plenty money, enough to help out her household and have some leftover. she picks up taxidermy classes, because college still seems so far away - babe knows how to move forward, but not how to pick up the pieces and continue where she's left off - dozens of projects left half - finished, plenty of relationships dropped without warning. the only constants are her best friend since diapers, practically, and the boyfriend she breaks up with, but never truly leaves. she's known him for so long - it feels impossible to ever really part.

stalking / harassment / gun violence; years later - babe's a known face at the club with a plethora of regulars, customers who adore not just her body, but her personality, who respect her - who pay her plenty. a new customer begins to get a bit too - affectionate towards babe. too close, too interested. the club's good about discomfort - and he's escorted off premises after he tries to follow her into the dressing rooms. it doesn't end after that - an obsession that carries outside of the club, that follows her - he follows her, to and 'fro - the police useless, because he hasn't touched her - and when her oldest brother finds out, he decides to take matters into his own hands. the man doesn't die - but he comes close to it, and when the police come knocking this time 'round - it's babe's uncle who steps up; who confesses to the crime. a crime he hasn't committed - but will protect his family from.

it's been a year since then; her oldest brother's taken over their family's restaurant - and the guilt swallows babe daily. she's only semi - recently gone back to work, much to the protest of her brothers; her oldest brother still upset about her decision, and still not talking to her.

facts & temperaments.

has unironically called herself an empath and in her defense she sort of is. feels emotions so so deeply that they hurt. a big crier, can't help it. tends to let them get the best of her - an irrational thinker who always jumps to conclusions, whether it's about you loving or hating her.

a little performative, dramatic - feels like she needs to be, like if she's not a caricature of sunshine then she's just the girl with a should - be - dead stalker and an incarcerated uncle. the girl with the dead animals, and the profuse swearing of mediumship.

a big - time partier, a known raver; self - proclaimed scene queen. always wearing rave attire, even in the cold - loves big, bold colors, the more neon the better, her arms consistently covered in kandi that she gives out like candy to her most favorite people of the week, sometimes the hour.

drugs; big big big on psychedelics and like. party drugs. loves poppers. will never admit that she has a problem - thinks she can always just reel it in.

has probably said rawr :3 in the past 24 hours.

loud and bold and talkative - isn't afraid to point out things that others may not; doesn't get the hint when to shut up. a bit of a blabbermouth, but she can't help it.

needs to be validated often that she's still liked and loved and adored, it's a bit of a problem. tends to latch onto others and form the occasional obsessive attachment. it's no big deal. sometimes it lasts for days, sometimes months. she finds most people interesting, and sometimes the most random things draw her in. thinks there's more beneath every person and she wants to know Every Layer.

a little hypersexual - a coping mechanism to deal with. Everything. but also just loves love! will also get incredibly jealous at times, but it's almost as a joke? but only babe finds it funny, and only after everyone's like babe wtf? then she's like omg jk haha im not that possessive :3 (kind of is)

once again, a big crier - at minor inconveniences, at sad movies, at misunderstandings; even when angry, it's just more tears. purposefully wears mascara that runs for the aesthetic. has probably never taken her eyeliner off.

big on adrenaline - seeking and cheap thrills. loves the idea of overcoming danger. believes in ghosts and cryptids and probably wants to fuck mothman, experiences medium revelations like several times a day.

has several tattoos that are just the @'s of people she's fucked whether it's their instagram or twitch or what. she thinks it's funny. and it's like, girl? kind of matches how her shitty little honda civic that's always falling apart is covered in bumper stickers on the outside and like. actual stickers on the inside. like she's just vomited lisa frank.

downs several monsters or various other energy drinks a day. aforementioned car's floor is littered with the crushed cans and general. gross shit ngl. we love her though.<3

[davekat-sucks]

actually, if that very polite and not at all deranged karen anon thinks bro's fights with dave were abuse, do they also think dirk/brobot's battles with jake were abusive too or nah because dirkjake are soulmates4evur? and that one was even worse because jake said brobot touched him inappropiately and made him uncomfortable, so add sexual harassment to the list too. oh wait, jake is a man and toxic yaoiz, so nevermind his feelings don't matter, just like jade somehow raising herself since she was a toddler and having to do taxidermy with her dead grandfather's corpse doesn't either. like nuDave said, his friends were just whiny bitches, it's all about that strider self-insert manpain.

i bet baby dirk, who ALSO raised himself and did acrobatic pirouettes off of a building, orchestrated that too since birth with cal. evil son of a bitch. no apple juice in his baby bottle for a month.

and now that i think about it, how come john crocker/poppop didn't transition if june was always meant to be?... nevermind, that is also probably baby jane's fault too for killing him too early at the tender age of 86. add murderer, fascist AND transphobic to HER list of crimes.

omg i cant take it anymore! i dont want my very realistic, gritty, tonally mature and emotionally fulfilling comic be ruined by those beasts! someone stop these bigoted abusive emotionally manipulative babies please! I WARNED YOU ABOUT THOSE BABIES BRO! I TOLD YOU DAWG!

They probably don't think Dirk's brobot on Jake is abusive. Jane may have gone worse with the sexual harassment under the influence of the Juju and the tiaratop when mind controlled by HIC (before actually going on rape in Epilogues), Dirk was able to do it in a more indirect way with his robot and Auto Responder-HAL. Considering what we don't know much about how Alpha Bro Dave raised Dirk, it can be assumed Bro Dave might have been more neglectful of Dirk's feelings before he chose to go fight ICP and dying. Leaving Dirk left alone for himself from then on. The Bro Dave could be like the one we know, thinking of irony and whatnot. So add that personality in an adult form and you got a dude who can't be honest with himself and thinks bad shit is good and any genuine good stuff is bad. Yes, Bro Dave would try to do a good thing in fighting ICP so that HIC won't fully takeover, but it doesn't erase the fact he CHOSE to leave Dirk alone. It's not like Grandpa English, Grandma Harley, or Poppop John Egbert, where they died in accidents. He and Alpha Mom Rose Lalonde, CHOSE to leave their kids behind before the game started. Jane was just lucky to have Dad Crocker around. Poppop's death likely mirrors to Nanna's in that a meteor hit him when Jane and the other kids were sent from it, with Dad Crocker raising her as his daughter. Guess the fandom will think Jane is transphobic for accidentally killing him. But considering it was JOHN himself who sent the kids on the meteor in the first place to make it happen, does that mean he is killing himself in a sort of sense? That's not a good implication at all. Dirk and Dave are awful people, yet nobody calls them out on it.

[elfmoon3]

A Shadowy Mist Chapter 28 (Transformers Animated story)

Pairings: Prowl x Oc, Bumblebee x Oc, and Optimus Prime x Black Arachnia.

Summary: After seeing LockDown's collection, Skull was wondering if he should start one himself. And the girls of the team are out looking for Black Arachnia due to some weird giant spider sightings.

Location: The Raven Oddities

Bumblebee took Skull to Mr. Poe's oddity shop to understand more about collections. "So after seeing what LockDown does for a living, you wanted to start your own collection?" The Autobot asked. "Well, it's better than becoming a bounty hunter like him." Skull said as Mr. Poe came out, "Ah, welcome back, my yellow friend. " The spooky old man said, he then noticed Skull, "And who's this young man?" He asked, "This is Skull. He wanted to check out your store to start his own collection." Bumblebee said, introducing Skull to Mr. Poe. "Ah, a beginner collector. Well, I may have some items that you may be interested in. " He said in excitement. "So tell me, my boy, what do you normally do for a living?" He asked, "I'm a musician in a rock band called Angels Have Fallen." He said. "Ah, I see." Mr. Poe said calmly. "Then may I ask as to why you were interested in starting a collection?" He asked. Skull looked at Bumblebee, who gave him the thumbs up. "I met this really cool guy who showed me his collection, and I got interested in starting my own." He answered. "I see. Well, take a look around. I'm sure you'll find something that suits your fancy." Mr. Poe said, Skull started looking around. He looked at everything, but what got him interested were the viking weapons, especially the mace. "I see you're interested in our medieval selection." Mr. Poe said, "Yeah, how'd you get this stuff?" Skull asked. "They were from closed down museums. It's a shame that some pieces of history were discarded." Mr. Poe answered. Skull grabbed the mace and smiled, "I'll take the mace." He said.

Later, at BurgerBot, after paying for the mace.

Bumblebee was parked near where Skull is eating. "So you're not gonna collect weapons?" He asked Skull, "Nope! Just thought I get one for self-defense against the decepticons in case they attack again." Skull said, "So the search for your own collection continues?" Bumblebee asked. "Yeah, but still don't know what it'll be." Skull said, eating his burger. "You really like burgers, huh?" Bumblebee asked, Skull swallowed and laughed, "Yeah, in my hometown, my dad would take me and my baseball team to a place called Hamdinger's Burger Palace. It's shut down now." He said, remembering the good days as a kid. "They had the best burgers in my hometown. BurgerBot is coming in as a close second." He added. Bumblebee laughed, "So, you weren't scared of LockDown's collection? Like at all?" He asked the young man. "Not really. My grandfather was a hunter, and his taxidermy never scared me." Skull said. "But what happened to my sister, that scared me." He added. "I'm sorry to hear that." Bumblebee said sadly. "What was your sister like?" He asked, "She was awesome, very nice, gentle, a total sweetheart. Even the meanest girl in our school agreed. But after her murder, everyone in the school went to her funeral." Skull said as a tear ran down his cheek. "Still crying over your sister's murder?" A familiar voice said. They see LockDown in his vehicle mode drive by and parked next to Bumblebee. "You really need to get over it, kid." He added. "I can't help it. It was traumatizing." Skull said. "LockDown, can I talk to you, bot to bot?" Bumblebee asked as he transformed into his robot mode. The Bounty Hunter sighed and did the same. "Look, I understand that when you showed Skull your trophies, you were trying to get him to forgive himself for what happened to his sister. Not only that, you got him interested in starting his own collection." Bumblebee said, "So I inspired him a bit. It's not a crime, is it?" LockDown asked, Bumblebee sighed, "No, not really." He said as a waitress came out of the restaurant, giving out an order to a customer. It was the same waitress who Skull met the other night. She screamed. The two bots and Skull looked at her. "Don't worry, their friends." Skull said, "I know Bumblebee is friendly, but what about the scary one?" She asked, pointing at LockDown, "Sweetheart, I don't go after humans." He said. Skull looked at her, "Miss, I swear no one is here to do any harm." He said, trying to calm her down.

Meanwhile, at the park.

The girls were sent out to find Black Arachnia. The giant purple silk on some trees was a dead giveaway. Sari, Meagan, and Shadow Mist went north while Mary, Scottie, and PixelSpark went east. They soon met back at the center of the park near the statue. "Anything?" Shadow Mist asked, "Nothing yet." PixelSpark said, "And it's almost getting dark." The pink convertible said. "Wherever she is, we gotta remain cautious." Meagan said, walking towards the west. Then Shadow Mist stopped her as she saw four glowing red eyes staring at them as Black Arachnia got closer to them. "Well, if it isn't my favorite energon scientist." She said smoothly. "I see you and your group of friends are looking for me?" The spider bot asked. "And I see you've been busy with making cobwebs." Shadow Mist said. "Eh, I got bored and thought I scare humans with Arachnophobia." She said devilishly. "That's not very nice!!" PixelSpark yelled. "True, but since it's nearly Halloween, I thought I do the city a favor and decorate." Black Arachnia said. Shadow Mist looked around, "Ok, we'll give you that, but it's still a big problem to the park." She said. Mary looked at the silk and grabbed some as a sample. "So, Mary Shelly Black joined your team?" Black Arachnia asked. "Yup!" Sari answered. "She joined so she could help find a cure for her father." Meagan explained. "I see." Arachnia said, walking towards Mary, who backed up with caution. "Consider my silk a gift, girlfriend." She said, "I've learned that spider silk is useful for medicine." Mary said to the spider, "But I won't bother you asking for more." She added. "Well, if you're nothing like your father, you can analyze it as much as you want." The spider bot said. "By the way, I saw the Bounty Hunter hanging around the yellow one earlier today? I know he's not a decepticon or an Autobot, but why is he acting so chummy with you Autobots lately?" She asked, Shadow Mist sighed, "Promis me you won't tell your colleagues?" She asked, "If it's any constellation, I don't think we'd care about what he does." Arachnia said. "Ok. He used to be a friend of my master's." She said and explained her master's final words to LockDown after their last encounter. "He promised to give you the stasis tasers for your master?" Black Arachnia asked, "Yes." Shadow Mist answered. "Why am I not surprised." Arachnia said calmly. "Huh?" Meagan questioned. "Like I said, he's on neither side. Even Megatron knows that." The spider bot said, "Then you should also know that he helped a young agent of ours get over a tragedy that happened to him as a kid." Scottie said, "Well, to be honest, I've been watching him and saw him take two humans into his ship. I left after seeing Swindle." Arachnia said. She then looked back at Shadow Mist and PixelSpark, glaring at them with jealousy, and then smiled. "You two girls are very lucky to have a bot by your side." She said as she transformed into her organic half, "I'll do the city a favor and clean up my webs." She said, "And tell Optimus Prime that I'm ok." She added as she left. The girls looked at her with confusion, but their glad she'll clean up the park of her silk.

The next day

The girls and the rest of the team were watching the news, and the reporter explained that the spider silk issue was no longer and that someone cleaned it up overnight. "I'm proud of you girls dealing with Black Arachnia. But how'd you do it?" Optimus asked. "Yeah, you girls came back without a scratch." Bumblebee said, "Well, we just talked her into doing it. Besides, she only did it out of boredom. It wasn't a part of a decepticon plan. So we let her go." Meagan answered. "And gave Mary a silk sample that she'll analyze at her medical lab." Scottie added. "You girls make a good team." Bulkhead said, "Yeah, but it wasn't as action filled as I thought it would be." PixelSpark said sadly. "Don't worry, babe, they'll be action in the near future." Bumblebee said. Then Sari got an idea, "How about us girls becoming a team on the side?" She asked. The guys looked at her with curiosity. "Like a side team?" Bulkhead asked, "You boys are a team, so why not?" She asked, "and we're still on the same side." She added. Ratchet sighed, "Forming a team isn't as easy as it looks." He said, "Ratchet's right, you girls need to understand and trust each other." Optimus said, but then he looked at Sari, whom he trusted the most. "Though, on the other hand, if you want to form a team, I suggest that you lead them, Sari." He said. "I agree with Optimus." Prowl said with his back to the wall, agreeing with his leader. "You have been with us since we first got to earth years ago." He added. "Yeah, she'll make a great leader." Bumblebee said, "And she's Cybertronian and human. So that makes her even better for the job." Bulkhead said. Ratchet grumbled. He's not against the idea. He's just worried about them not getting along, but knowing how well Sari did during the Autobots first stay on earth, he gave up on his objection. "Fine, but as long as they listen to her." He said. "So, is it ok?" Sari asked, Optimus nodded. The girls cheered. "We need to think of a name for ourselves, though." PixelSpark said, Shadow Mist then got an idea. "The Solus Maidens." She said. The Autobots looked at her with shock, while Sari and the agents looked at her in confusion. "After Solus Prime?" Bumblebee asked. "Who's Solus Prime?" Meagan asked. "She was the first female Cybertronian. She was known for her forge work on weapons. As well as her intelligence and temper. Every femme bot was modeled from her template. She was one of the first original primes in Cybertronian history." Shadow Mist explained, "Every young femme bot inspire to be like her." She added. "Wow! The first female Cybertronian." Sari said in amazement. "I guess you can say she's your planet's version of Eve." Meagan said, "Eve?" Shadow Mist asked, "The first female human, according to our beliefs." Meagan explained. "Other than the temper part that Solus Prime has, Eve was very intelligent as well." Meagan added. "Even though she gave into sin and got kicked out of the Garden of Eden with her husband Adam." Scottie said, "But we're glad she gave us human women a good head start for being on earth." She added. "I suppose Earth's religious stories and Cybertronian history can overlap." Optimus said. "Then it's settled. We'll call ourselves The Solus Maidens." Shadow Mist said as the girls put their hands on top of her own.

Later that night

Prowl went out for a drive and saw Black Arachnia and LockDown, he over heard the two talking and turned into his robot mode to listen. "You could've told me in the first place, LockDown! You know that you aren't one of the decepticons, just a gun for hire. It really doesn't matter whose side you're on." Black Arachnia said, She added. "I may not be a decepticon or Autobot, Black Arachnia. I've watched those two students of Shade's for a long while, sure BrakeDown wasn't his best student like Shadow Mist. But I think he should be in a better position than joining Megatron." He said. "Like what?" Prowl said, revealing his position. "Prowl, how much did you hear?" LockDown asked, "Enough to know that you want to try and give BrakeDown a different view on what he should be." The ninjabot answered. LockDown sighed and shook his head. "I don't know what Megatron promised him so he can join in with the decepticons. But I just think he should be on his own path and do something to control his anger." The Bounty Hunter said. "Like what you do?" Prowl asked. "Yeah, well, better him than the human." He answered, Black Arachnia looked at the Bounty Hunter. "Wait, are you telling me and the Autobot that you're looking for an apprentice?" She asked. "I like him and Skull equally, but the musician is a bit on the small side. But, BrakeDown still has to show purpose to me. And who knows, he might make a better Bounty Hunter than me." He said, "Maybe show him that collection of yours like you did with the Skull kid." Black Arachnia said. "I guess that is a good idea." He said, he then looks at Prowl, "Tell Shadow Mist that I appreciate her spilling the oil. But if anyone has to tell Megatron my reason for my strange behavior, it'd be me." He said as he transformed into his vehicle mode and drove off. Black Arachnia sighed and saw the ninjabot leaving, "Hey, before you go." She said, making him stop, "Tell the human, Mary, good luck on her research for giving her father a cure for his condition." She said. He nodded as he drove off in his vehicle mode.

To be continued...

(This took me a while, all day, in fact. But I'm glad I got it done.)