#and working with the limited palettes i got from that while having to abandon the swapfell part that was supposed to also be there lmao

[bonestrouslingbones]

oh my god the reason i get so bad with the sims is because its essentially a fucking character design factory isnt it

[goomyloid]

What was your process for making the Noelle amv, if you don't mind sharing?

hii! im not sure how eloquently or clearly ill be able to explain it but i definitely have some pictures you can look at!

(the video)

i actually got the idea while i was away on a trip with very limited wifi -- it wasn't Trust Me that i got an AMV idea for first, but instead it was one of 4syu's other songs, There's Nobody. for such a happy sounding song it really made me so sad, to the point where if i tried to sing it to myself id get choked up by the chorus LMAO. it was baddd

but basically i was rapidly trying to find both songs on spotify so i could listen to them offline, and it only took me a few loops of Trust Me and thinking about the original MV to make me go "ohhhh. how can i make this about noelle." And so i did .

i was thinking about doing a storyboard, but in the past, i've found that doing storyboards for animations/AMVs lowkey... kills my motivation altogether... SAD... but i saw the whole video so clearly in my head, and i didnt want to make the same mistake i made before... so i went right to doing quick sketches (while still on my trip...) just so i could get the ideas out of my head

i was torn on what to do with my style at the time, whether i wanted to make it more similar to the original video, or to her canon appearance, or to MY style and how i draw her. i think it kind of ended up as an amalgamation of all three...? at the very least, her light world color palette definitely was more bland and desaturated, like i purposefully wasn't trying to do anything special with her colors.

after that point, and getting maybe a few of the actual drawings done, my motivation crashed again, and i left it all to marinate for nearly a week. it was baking, guys, it wasn't abandoned, listen to me, why are you throwing tomatoes at me,

i had up to about the "I dreamed about that again" animation done and stopped, and it wasn't until i decided to sit down and start editing it anyway that i really got in my groove again. i got all my little assets into a workable state so i could really try to sit down and make the video come to life and all

the really fun part was honestly working on the desktop backgrounds. i really wanted to limit colorpicking from the original video as much as possible, but i decided that making look as similar as possible to the original could help with the contrast i wanted to add later.

i drew these two backgrounds first. i was hoping i could somehow fit the bunker into the second one, but decided to do something different anyway. the second one's ui didn't actually change until later in the editing process.

drawing THESE were fun especially, and im happy with how they came out. i think the dark world icons are really cute still. one thing i really did know i wanted to do from the beginning was to turn the soul/undertale icon into the deltarune one.

i was worried if the shift from the Windows Field Background to the dark world would be too sudden, like you would just blink and suddenly it was all different, but i think it ended up all right...?

the not so fun part was drawing all the different boxes, lmao. it go really tedious by the end, so i tried to reuse as many of the same ones as i could.

a lot of copy-pasting and tracing rectangles for sure.

i also had to make sure the animations didnt Suck. i brute forced those things and used every last braincell i had in order to make those pictures move bros

fun fact. ive never animated hair like this before. or in any complex manner really. i had to use sooo much brain here... heres how it started vs. how it ended up

had my animator gf hype me up thru the whole thing... i was having a great time based on the filenames alone

aaaand then ummmm i edited it. i learned after effects like 1 month ago. never touched it before. i learned it for internship purposes and then used my newfound powers for evil it seems

i split the whole thing up into multiple compositions of course, but i probably could have split things up more... im sorry for having 84 layers on comp 3 its not my fault

editing a video in 12 fps was a fun change though -- very easy for my brain to go frame-by-frame, and yet still some of the timing ended up being off... tis the goomy way

like i said before, i started editing when i barely had half the drawings done, but seeing it all start to be in motion really pushed me to finish it up. and i mean Really. like i finished the whole thing maybe 48 hours after i first started editing.

and...i think that's it? i do a lot of discord art streaming to friends lately but i kinda kept this one more under wraps compared to usual, i think i just wanted to surprise everyone... look guys i remembered how to make a video! and it's three minutes! waow

sorry if this is way more than you asked for LMAO

also, the AMV hit 5k views on youtube today! ive never had a video do well like that so quickly! thank you!!

[kl125]

Which season of ST has been your favourite and why? 😊

Definitely Season Four. I always love when characters get a chance at introspection, because it deepens our understanding of them. We start to put the pieces together of why they do certain things and act a certain way. More under the cut!

One of the main themes this season was trauma. What have these characters gone through to get them to this point, and how has that affected their psyche? Not every character got a full deep dive, as a show only has so much time, but what we did see was fabulous! I want to focus on Hopper, El, Max, Mike, Will, and Lucas, because those arcs connect in rather compelling way.

(Keep in mind, these are snippets, and it’s my reading of what’s happening, so I understand that important elements could be missed or left out or interpreted a different way.)

Hopper feels incapable of creating lasting bonds with people, so he pushes everyone away to prevent the inevitable heartbreak. Better to stop something before it starts, than to let it ultimately destroy everyone involved.

El feels like a monster, and who could ever love a monster? She questions if she’s worthy of everything she’s found since escaping the lab (family, friends, a home, a sense of belonging, love). Is she the superhero, or the supervillain? Is she like Mama, or like Papa? Or worse, is she like Henry?

Max feels guilty for wishing death upon Billy, as it lead to a breakdown of her home life, and she sees the cruelty of this desire and connects it to the same cruelty she saw in Billy. Instead of sharing her burdens, she cuts herself off to protect her friends from discovering this shame, preserving the positive image they currently have of her.

Mike feels inadequate among his circle of friends, and he’s lost his sense of self. There’s artistic Will, strategic Max, courageous Lucas, intelligent Dustin, and powerful El. He wonders where he fits in this dynamic. He used to be the compassionate leader, but is this role even needed? And if it’s not, will that lead his most treasured people in his life to abandon him?

Will feels like a mistake. His experiences (the Upside Down and the Mind Flayer) coupled with his identity issues make him wonder if his friends and family would even care if he’s gone. He worries that the six months apart have created a rift so deep, there’s nothing left to do but get lost in it.

Lucas feels like he’s blinded himself to his friend’s struggles (namely Max) in his pursuit for normalcy in a very abnormal world. He’s grown resentful of his nerdy side, but rather than reconcile his opposing personalities, he rejects the one he sees as weak, at the cost of alienating his friends and himself.

These are all very brief overviews, but the important part is that they have a well-defined arc. They start with all of this lingering insecurity, but by the end, they resolve these issues and begin piecing themselves back together. It’s a beautiful story about isolation, represented physically by the different locations, and the power of acceptance, not just of the people around you, but of yourself.

As for my feelings on the other seasons, they are as follows.

Season One is absolutely perfect. It’s one of the best seasons of television, in my humble opinion. The characters each have distinct personalities and individual motivations with clearly defined arcs. The story is compelling, drawing on just enough nostalgia to make it feel familiar, while also making sure it still feels fresh and original. The synth-driven score and muted color palette enhance the tone of mystery, and the cinematography is gorgeous. It would have worked perfectly as a limited series, as originally intended, however because we now have three more seasons, I view that one with the thought, “The best is yet to come.”

With Season Two, it felt like a tool to setup plot points that wouldn’t pay off until later seasons, so some things feel incomplete. A great example is Max’s arc. She has a very gradual journey through the story, and it’s entirely purposeful, but because the climax comes in Season Four, everything we see in Season Two contains an air of “what’s hiding under the surface?” As for other elements, it’s very tonally similar to Season One. They’re moving away from childhood innocence, and preparing for more mature themes to come. If Season Four is the season they lose, then Season Two is the season they win. By the end, their lives are tied up in a neat little bow, but the Upside Down is still out there.

While I enjoyed Season Three, it was a major departure from the first two seasons. It felt like it was trying to be a both a romantic comedy and a self-contained mystery amidst a larger-than-life blockbuster, and it didn’t quite hit the mark on any of them. The jarring tonal shifts took many people out of the story, and it left us confused as to what they were trying to accomplish.

Season Four felt like a course correction, and a successful one at that. The Duffers took the time to ask, “What makes Stranger Things unique?” Boy, did they nail it. It’s the people. Their inner struggles, manifested as otherworldly monsters, push them through the mystery each season. We needed a reminder of why we root for these unlikely heroes.

The best decision was making Vecna a largely practical effect, like the Demogorgan in Season One. The Mind Flayer worked in Season Two, because Noah’s performance grounded the experience. We only got glimpses of its real form. However, Season Three made the monster unrealistic basing it entirely on CGI. The VFX is phenomenal, but it’s hard to imagine them fighting this iteration of the Mind Flayer. It’s not that CGI can’t make a compelling monster, but the show has spent so much time building up the realistic parts of the mystery, that an entirely fake opponent didn’t mesh well with the dynamic. With Vecna, not only is he a real person (the absolutely fantastic Jamie), but his MO is internal. He weaponizes people’s trauma, breaking them down until there’s nothing left.

Another great thing they did was make the characters fail. They were right in calling this the Empire Strikes Back season. Towards the end of that movie, Luke sees a vision of Han and Leia in danger, prompting him to abandon his training with Yoda on Dagobah, but he was not ready. El visits the void and learns of the Hawkins Crew’s imminent battle with Vecna, abandoning her training with Papa in Nevada, but she was not ready. Han gets encased in carbonite while Max ends up in a coma. Luke loses his hand, while El loses her hair. These characters may have survived their battle, but can they fix what has been broken and defeat evil once and for all?

Not to mention, the cinematography is positively stunning, and the score elevates everything to a whole new level. I love how they mix traditional orchestral instruments with their usual synth-based sound. The scene between El and Papa in Chapter Eight and the last shot of the show are my favorite moments by far. Everything comes together so majestically.

(On a more selfish note: this season had a shoutout to WarGames, which is my favorite 80s movie, and they drew a lot of inspiration from it. Hearing the original score from the movie made me so happy!)

There’s a lot more I love about this season, and I know I didn’t talk about every character, but this is already getting a little long, so I’ll stop here. If people want to know my feelings about a particular part of the season, my ask box is open! Thanks for the question!

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Separation AU Part 1!

Requested by @grant-likes-minecraft. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Impulse and Skizzleman have lived in the same world together for decades, and that’s just the way they like it. But all that will change when one day, Impulse is summoned (literally) to the Hermitcraft server...

(Based on Impulse literally canonically being brought to Hermitcraft via summoning circle in season 3)

...

  “WHOAAAA!”

  With a yelp, Impulse dropped into a shallow hole over where he had just been walking. He stared upwards as he heard laughter and spotted the grinning face of his best friend a few blocks above him.

  “Skizz!” Impulse laughed indignantly. “This is like the oldest trick in the book!”

  “Uh huh, and you fell for it,” Skizzleman replied through his laughter. “Skizz: one. Dippledop: zero.”

  “Get me outta here and I’ll SHOW you zero,” Impulse snickered. “Got any ladders?”

  Skizzleman dropped a single ladder into the hole. At Impulse’s raised eyebrow, he giggled and dropped a few more, before stepping back and letting his best friend climb out of the hole. 

  Impulse shook his head amusedly at the grin on Skizzleman’s face. “Have you done your chores yet? Or did you spend the whole morning setting up that prank?”

  “Whaaaat? Does that sound like something I would do?”

  “Yup.”

  Skizzleman made eye contact with Impulse, causing him to giggle again. “Okay, yeah, I did.”

  Impulse chuckled as he started walking back towards the house, letting his best friend fall into step beside him. “It’s your turn to harvest and replant, buddy.” 

  “Aww, but it’s so boring,” Skizzleman complained, flipping around to walk backwards so he could talk directly to Impulse’s face. “Can’t we just skip chores for today and go to the beach?”

  Impulse scoffed. “Skizz-.”

  “C’mon, just look at that ocean.” Skizzleman threw his arm out to indicate the sparkling sea, just visible through the trees. “Can’t you hear it calling you? Don’t you wanna just dive into the cool, refreshing water and just relaaaaaax?”

  “You’re doing a great job of selling it, I gotta admit,” said Impulse amusedly. “Okay, we’ll go to the beach, but only if you do crops for the next two days.”

  “Done.”

  Skizzleman broke into a run, causing Impulse to laugh and pick up speed to catch up with him. 

  However, at just over halfway to the beach, Impulse skidded to a halt, realising his entire body had started to glow. “Uh, Skizz?”

  His best friend stopped a few blocks ahead of him. “What? Oh…! Wait, what’s happening?”

  As Impulse was staring down at his glowing hands, he felt himself be lifted slowly off the ground, the block around him glowing brightly.

  “Wh-What’s going on, dude?!” Skizzleman yelped. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not doing anything!” Impulse started to panic. “Skizz, help me!”

  He reached out blindly and Skizzleman grabbed his hands. Impulse hung almost upside down in the air, as if something was dragging him upwards by his legs. He strained against the invisible force, focusing on holding onto Skizzleman’s hands as tightly as he could.

  But the pull was just too strong.

  “IMPULSE!”

  Skizzleman cried out as he felt Impulse’s hands slip from his. He toppled face-first into the dirt, but by the time he managed to push himself onto his back and look up, Impulse had disappeared.

  Impulse couldn’t stop screaming as he fell through a weird, terrifying vortex of swirling colours. He managed to angle himself so he was feet-first, but this did nothing to alleviate his fear.

  And then he landed.

  He stumbled as his feet hit the ground, but quickly regained his footing enough to not fall over. Blinking against the bright sunlight shining directly in his face, he realised he could see the slightly blurry outlines of three people standing a little way off, watching him.

  Just as he registered them, one of the figures rushed towards him and grabbed him in a tight hug. “Impulse! Oh my god, I can’t believe it actually worked! You’re actually here!”

  The person’s distinctive voice helped Impulse identify him immediately, and he was so shocked that he momentarily forgot his disorientation. “T-Tango?!”

  Tango released him and stepped back, an expression of pure joy on his face. “You’re really here! I can’t believe it!”

  “Wait, wait…!” Impulse frowned, his brain still trying to figure out what had just happened. He stared around and found himself in a brand new world, entirely different from the one he had just come from. “Where am I? And how did I get here?”

  Tango beamed. “You’re on Hermitcraft, buddy!”

  “And you got here through a… uh… sort of wormhole,” added an unfamiliar voice.

  Impulse turned to find a person wearing green armour and a purple helmet. 

  “Hi, I’m Xisuma,” the person said, giving a friendly smile. He indicated the suited person behind him. “This is Mumbo.”

  “Hi!” said Mumbo happily. “Welcome to Hermitcraft.”

  “I…” Impulse blinked, hardly daring to believe it. “I really am on Hermitcraft? But- But why did you bring me here?”

  “Because you belong here, Impy.” Tango gripped his friend’s shoulders. “I’ve been trying to bring you here for months and it never worked until now. I don’t really know what Xisuma did, but you’re finally here.”

  “What about Skizzleman, though?” Impulse asked urgently. “You’re gonna bring him here too, right?”

  Tango’s smile fell. He glanced back at Xisuma, whose shoulders drooped. “I… um… I tried to grab onto both of you and get you both here, but… it didn’t work for Skizzleman. There’s something in his code, something that didn’t let me latch onto him. I can’t bring him here. I’m… I’m sorry.”

  Impulse stared at him, his stomach lurching. “So… I-I’ll never see him again?”

  “Not never,” said Tango quickly. “Just…”

  When Tango failed to come up with anything else, Xisuma said, “The borders between servers and worlds are rocky at best. We can’t send you back or bring him here, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a good life here.”

  “A good life?!” Impulse’s fists clenched. “How can it be a good life without Skizzleman?!”

  Xisuma held out his hands to steady him. “Impulse, please, calm down a moment and-.”

  “Calm down?! Y-You just plucked me out of my world without my consent! Forcibly separating me from my best friend! What gave you the right to make that decision for me?”

  “Impy-,” tried Tango.

  “Don’t Impy me!” Impulse’s voice cracked. “We’ve lived together for most of our lives; I can’t just abandon him!”

  “You’re not abandoning him.” Tango grabbed his friend’s hands soothingly. “You’re moving on to a new life, a better life. If Skizz is truly your best friend, which he is, he can’t possibly resent you for taking the opportunity.”

  “I…” Impulse hesitated. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him.”

  Xisuma winced and hung his head. “I’m sorry, Impulse.”

  Seeing how defeated Xisuma was, Impulse’s anger slowly ebbed away. He glanced back at the spot where he had been summoned, a lump rising in his throat. 

  “Impulse, this is the start of a new life for you,” Tango said gently. “And for me. Finally, you and I get to live on a server together. Imagine what we can do! The possibilities are endless.” 

  “But they’re not,” Impulse whispered. “Because Skizz isn’t here.”

  “Listen…” Tango hesitated. “You two have been together for… for god knows how many years. This change will be good for both of you.”

  “And I’ll keep investigating to see if we can bring Skizzleman here,” said Xisuma. “But in the meantime, your new life awaits you.”

  Impulse cleared his throat. While part of his brain wanted to scream and cry at being separated from his best friend, he couldn’t deny that he was excited about the chance to finally be on Hermitcraft, as a member of their family. So many more things were possible on a server than in a simple world, from building materials to redstone contraptions. And it wasn’t as if he would be alone; he had Tango, he had Xisuma and Mumbo, he had many other Hermits whom he hadn’t even met yet. 

  “Alright, then.” A smile slowly spread over Impulse’s face. “What first?”

  A spark ignited in Tango’s eyes. “Oh, first we gotta introduce you to all the other Hermits! Then we can talk about building bases. You and I could build one together! I’m thinking a giant underground base in maybe a nether style? There’s so many block palettes we can use and- oh, I think I might already have the perfect thing back at my-.”

  “Whoa, buddy, slow down,” laughed Impulse. “Let’s start with meeting the other Hermits, okay?”

  As Tango nodded happily, the phrase “other Hermits” reverberated in Impulse’s mind. He knew it would take a long time to get used to this change and wrap his head around the fact that…

   ...that he was a Hermit now.

…

  After six long, sleepless nights in the big house all alone, Skizzleman had finally given up and moved. With his limited building skills, he had managed to construct a small shack near to where Impulse had vanished. His spark, his passion for life, faded a little more with every day that passed. 

  Skizzleman exited his tiny shack and harvested the small amount of wheat next to the pond, before replanting it monotonously. He then used the wheat to make a few more pieces of bread for his stock. It wasn’t much but it was enough to get by. 

  After his chores were done, he made his way slowly towards the beach. The sand and the sea used to call to him, urging him to rush down there and have some fun. Not anymore.

  On his way, he passed the spot Impulse had disappeared from. No sunlight hit this block anymore. The small allium Skizzleman had managed to plant there was barely visible in the shade. 

  He lay down on the grass and stared morosely up at the sky, his hand resting on the dirt around the flower, his elbow bent slightly as if he had his arm over his best friend’s shoulder. Closing his eyes, tears trickled down his cheeks. 

  Skizzleman had never been so alone before.

[soundsof71]

So, considering you are a passionate fan of music released in 1971, I feel justifiably obligated to ask you what you think of Buffy Sainte-Marie's 'She Used to Wanna Be a Ballerina' album. 😂 (Also, it would make me beyond happy if you could post more about Buffy, my friend! Thank you! ❣)

Buffy Sainte-Marie + Crazy Horse - what’s not to love? LOL I confess that it was the Crazy Horse connection that caught my attention first. I had a general idea who Buffy was, had seen her on TV a few times, but I was a big Crazy Horse fan. News that they were her backing band for this album was easily enough for me to scoop it up.

They weren’t doing anything much with Neil Young in 1971 (other than this album, on which Neil also appeared!), but they had released a tasty solo album in February 71, produced by Jack Nitzsche (who also produced this, and would later marry Buffy), and featuring Ry Cooder (also featured here, although did not marry Buffy). 

(btw, the first place that Buffy, Ry, and Jack worked together was on the Nic Roeg film Performance, starring Mick Jagger. People obviously remember Mick in that, but musically, Buffy was the best part!) 

She Used To Wanna... also features Jesse Ed Davis, a Native American guitarist and singer who was a frequent “usual suspect” at these sort of “sure, invite everyone!” jam albums of the era, and played a prominent role at 1971′s biggest concert (at least in the US), The Concert for Bangladesh on August 1.

(I know you know  RUMBLE: The Indians Who Rocked The World, the documentary about indigenous music’s influence on rock and roll, which has chapters on both Buffy and Jesse Ed. I just watched it again recently, and love it! A reminder of Buffy’s pivotal role in classic rock history. Not mentioned in the film: she relentlessly championed the work of her fellow Canadians Joni Mitchell and Leonard Cohen, helping them get their first record deals.)

I haven’t listened to She Used To Wanna Be A Ballerina for a while, so I definitely need to do that, along with posting more pictures of Buffy.  (I can’t believe I’ve only posted two!) 

But I’ll tell you what still stands out to me about that record years later. “Smack Water Jack” is an underrated track from Carole King’s Tapestry that got a ton of airplay at the time. Quincy Jones did an instrumental cover as the title track for his terrific 1971 album, too, but it has somehow faded to obscurity since then. Buffy takes a playful trifle, and turns it into a powerful fable of men of color who explode into violence in response to the violence visited upon them, and self-satisfaction of whites in authority who answer their demands for better living conditions by killing them on the spot. 

No need for a trial when you can murder them in the streets, right? “You can't talk to a man when he don't wanna understand / And he don't wanna understand” hits different when Buffy sings it, and in 2020 for that matter. 

It’s also just a terrific performance whose combination of soul and rock and roll and driving piano in a sort of Old West-sounding context would have made this sound right at home on a record like Elton John’s Tumbleweed Connection  or something by The Band. I’m limited to five video embeds per post so I can’t embed it here, so I'm linking instead: anyone who hasn’t heard this definitely needs to.

Her cover of Neil’s CSNY track “Helpless” has things I like even better than Neil’s original, including Merry Clayton standing in for CSN. Buffy’s version is more muscular (thanks again to Crazy Horse), and taps even more deeply into the isolation of the song that the star power of CSNY somewhat obscured. 

Buffy’s version also made a brief but memorable appearance in the 2018 film Hotel Artemis, starring Jodie Foster. A weird little movie that I loved maybe more than it deserved LOL but I recommend nonetheless:

I know that this album gets attention because of the unusual number of covers, including one by Leonard Cohen, and a cover of a cover that Leonard had made famous on top of that, called "Song of the French Partisan” (hers is the far superior version imo, a song of French resistance to Nazi occupation from the perspective of a woman hiding a resister), but there are a couple of standout originals too. 

I love the title of this record, and the title track is a delightful little stomper that playfully cautions against equating the intentions of grown women with the childhood fantasies they’ve grown out of. More Merry Clayton goodness here on backing vocals too. 

“Soldier Blue” is a powerful song first written for the 1970 film of the same name, billed at the time as “The most savage film in history” -- and maybe it was. It used the 1864 Sand Creek Massacre as a metaphor for Vietnam, and it's still shockingly brutal. It was the third-highest grossing movie in the UK in 1971, though, and the single became a top-10 hit for Buffy there. 

It didn’t do as well here, either the song or the movie. Perhaps not shockingly in retrospect, Soldier Blue was pulled from American theaters after a few days, the Vietnam metaphor not at all lost on the Nixon administration. 

As horrifying as it was, this is about when I was reading Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee (first published in 1970), and Soldier Blue resonated with me in a whole lot of ways. Here’s the song in the opening credits of the movie.

I was also really struck by “Moratorium”, which is the story of “Universal Soldier” (from her 1963 debut, but a bigger hit for Donovan in 1965), coming from the opposite direction. In the earlier song, she blamed war on the soldiers who think that fighting is honorable, but here, she has empathizes with the young men, boys really in many cases, who’ve been lied to by their countries, their parents, and even their friends. They’re not vainglorious. They’ve been duped by people they trusted. 

(I don't think she takes enough into account how many men sign up to fight because they want to embrace and celebrate their worst, most violent impulses, which was of course an undercurrent of “Universal Soldier”, but I appreciate her empathy here. More than one thing is true at a time.)

Buffy goes even farther, though, calling on soldiers to support and validate demands for peace as explicitly supporting them, summed up in the unforgettable cry, "Fuck the war and bring our brothers home!" 

1971 was the peak of antiwar demonstrations in the US, with the biggest crowds ever seen in this country until the 2017 Women’s March. The May 1971 demonstrations pretty much shut down Washington, culminating with Vietnam Veterans Against The War throwing back their medals on the steps of the US Capitol, incredibly powerful stuff to see on TV in my formative years, and Buffy was right there in it. Anti-war songs were a cottage industry for sure, but nobody was writing with the nuance and empathy that Buffy was.

Here’s a 1972 performance of “Moratorium”, Buffy and a piano, and more emotionally bare than that:

There’s obviously lots more to say about Buffy, far outside the realm of protest music that was actually just a small part of her musical palette -- her pioneering experiments with electronic music, her educational philanthropy starting in her 20s, Sesame Street, you name it. Her commercial peak was still in front of her, and while I can’t say that this is my favorite of her records, it does have some of my favorite songs of hers, and 1971 and She Used to Wanna Be A Ballerina is definitely where I went from knowing who Buffy Sainte-Marie was to being a fan. 

I'll also note as I do now and again that while this blog started as an offshoot of a book on 1971 that I’d started but abandoned, I mostly listen to music released now. That’s always been my policy, including in 1971. When 1972 rolled up, I was mostly listening to music from 1972, music from ‘80 in ‘80, ‘91 in ‘91, 2018 in 2018, etc., to name just a few other favorites. (Plus The Beatles, okay? LOL I still listen to The Beatles every day. No apologies.) Honestly? It took me until 2011, in my fifties, when a whole bunch of 40th anniversary editions of 1971 albums got released all at once that made me think, “Wait a minute, this was maybe THE pivotal year in classic rock history!” 

So yeah, the historian in me dug into 1971, but even though I happened to be alive and enthralled by music in that year, what I’m doing here has nothing to do with nostalgia, or any idea that that was the *best* year in music, even if for the narrow slice of music that is classic rock, yeah, it absolutely is. For soul/R&B too, and for the explosion of women artists outside the even narrower confines of pop as well. This is not subject to debate. No year like it, before or since. It's just that classic rock is a such a narrow slice, and I like my slices wide. LOL Which is also why my blog has less and less 1971 content as I go along. 

While my general policy is that my favorite year for music is THIS year, this particular year hasn’t left me as much energy as usual for listening to music. Some of it is These Trying Times™, some of it is my bipolarity and schizophrenia getting the better of me in waves, as is the way with these, uhm, things. (Keep taking those meds, kids!) I listen to music and post about the people making it as a creative act, not a passive or reflexive one, and I just haven’t felt as creative as usual.

(This is also has everything to do with why so many Asks have been piling up unanswered. I apologize if you’re one of the many kind and indulgent souls who’s gotten in touch, but I swear I’m gonna get to ‘em all!)

To get an idea of what I’m ACTUALLY passionate about right now, my “to be edited later” running list of 2020 favorites randomly added to a playlist as I encounter them, to be properly curated later, is at Spotify, cleverly entitled “2020″ -- 94% women, which is about right. LOL 

But since I do in fact listen to old stuff (by which I mean 2019 LOL), I made a list of mostly 2020 bangers from women rockers with some tasty treats from 2019 that I haven’t been able to let go of just yet, inspired by a post I saw at tumblr saying that punk music by women is just plain better (also beyond debate), called “Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam”. I’ll be posting an essay with a YouTube playlist soon, because god forbid that I only talk briefly about anything LOL and most of these women need to be heard AND seen.

Like Buffy Sainte-Marie, whom you'll both see and hear more often on my blog soon. Thanks for the reminder! Always a pleasure to hear from you and be challenged by you. :-)

Peace, Tim 

[sillytorch]

Emerald Sustrai for the ask game!💎💎

Emmy!!!! :D

favorite thing about them: I love her color palette, I love that she's named after a gemstone, her semblance. I really love her personality too b/c she's not very nice but you can still see that she's a bit more morally sound compared to the rest of her now former allies. And her relationship with Cinder being the only thing that kept her from defecting from Salem is also very interesting too b/c Emerald doesn't like doing all of this world ending stuff, but Cinder, who happens to be involved in all of this, is the one person who saved her life. So she feels like she owes her. But all she had to do was spend less time from Cinder so that when Cinder comes back and is just acting like an asshole to her, it became one of the pushes Emerald to just leave Salem's side. This is something I'm gonna go into later on in this post, but her redemption arc is what got me more excited for Emerald going forward and it's related to her relationship w/ Cinder.

least favorite thing about them: I wish we saw more of her doing things before her redemption arc in V8. Like I would have loved to see her and Weiss duke it out cuz they were always pitted against each other in the openings. I also wished that we had more moments where Emerald uses her semblance (likely commanded by Cinder) quite more often towards the heroes. I know the whole point of her character is that she's doing bad things b/c she feels like she owes Cinder, but I wanna see how far she would have gone for Cinder and what would have been her limit in a battle against the heroes.

favorite line: "I think you're wrong, by the way. I highly doubt you're in the same place you started. I-I mean, yeah, y-you guys have been getting your asses kicked, some of that my fault, but like, you're at war. You're gonna take hits. Look, I'm just going to be super pissed if you all finally decided to give up the moment I switch sides." (RWBY V8 Ch 11: Risk)

brOTP; Em and Merc, obviously. Same with her and Hazel, her and Oscar.

OTP: Spumoni (Emerald/Neo)... I really wish we got more interaction between them. Maybe if Neo does join the heroes, we could get more interaction.... idk I just think they'd work really well w/ their semblances and fighting styles. Also they kinda have a thing going on where they are primarily doing bad stuff for the person that took them in (Roman for Neo; Cinder for Em).

nOTP: Cinder/Emerald... even if we ignore the age gap, I don't feel comfortable about the idea of them in a romantic relationship or even a platonic relationship. I think that while I think Emerald confronting Cinder again in future volumes is inevitable, it would be a terrible idea for them to reconnect and be in any kind of relationship together. They need to keep a LONG distance from each other.

random headcanon: I like to think her birthday is somewhere in May cuz emerald is the birthstone for that month!

unpopular opinion: I know that some of the criticisms about Emerald's redemption arc was it feeling rushed b/c she joined the heroes right away, but I personally think there's just a lot of unfinished business going on w/ her redemption arc and it's def gonna be addressed in future volumes. That unfinished business is def gonna be about her and Cinder. Like I said, Emerald confronting Cinder is inevitable, b/c we saw Emerald being horrified by Salem using Cinder's Grimm prosthetic as a torture device. We also saw that Cinder was genuinely upset and hurt when she saw Emerald teaming up with the heroes. There's going to be a point where the next time these two confront each other, it's going to get heavy. One scenario I thought of was that Emerald might try to get Cinder to leave Salem and join the heroes, but Cinder's like, "Hell no! You're just gonna pretend to care and then abandon me again!" And it's just gonna be so sad cuz to Em, Cinder's that one friend you wanna help so bad and that friend refuses to accept your help and there's nothing you can do no matter how much you try b/c that's their own choice if they want to accept your help. And I think that'd be an interesting lesson to see occur in RWBY.

song i associate with them: Uhh... I'm the One (RWBY Soundtrack) I should listen to some more songs lmao

favorite picture of them:

"Man doing the right thing feels weird. It's actually really fun lol"

[love-killed-the-superstar]

yay its day 2!! uhh this one’s very dialogue heavy lol

CASSUNZEL WEEK DAY 2 - SECRETS AND PROMISES

“Hey... Cass?”

“Mhm?”

“The Day of Hearts is coming up. Think you’ll stick around for it this time?”

“Eugh. You know there’s a reason I don’t like to come back this time of year, right?”

Cassandra rolls her eyes so spectacularly far back Rapunzel can’t help but laugh despite the gesture being directed at her.

“Well, since you returned I’ve been thinking about the first Day of Hearts we spent together.”

“Oh, geez, this again? Can’t we just put that whole incident in the past?” Cass grumbles.

She’s posing – stiffly as a whistle, mind – for one of Rapunzel’s signature portraits. Rapunzel knows that Cass gets restless whenever she paints her, but the request is a way she can keep her in one place for a while. (That, and Cass is one of her favourite muses; something about the sharpness of her eyes draws her in, and the delight she takes in trying to paint hints of her toned muscles under her formless clothing is unparalleled.)

Cassandra hasn’t been back for… over six months now. She’s missed her.

“You just seemed so… annoyed about the whole affair, even before that guy Andrew arrived in Corona,” Rapunzel continues, mixing up a creamy paint for the base of Cassandra’s skin. “Was it really because you were only pretending to date him?”

“No, no, it had nothing to do with him at the core of it, I just… don’t care for romance and hearts, and Shorty dressing as whatever the hell kind of messed up cherub he’s going for.”

“Sure, the sight isn’t for everybody,” Rapunzel laughs. “You still believe you don’t care for romance and hearts though, after all this time?”

“You’re an exception to the rule, all right? Besides, Corona has way too many public holidays for my liking.”

“All right, noted. I’ve just always wondered if there was something more to it. I know we don’t share everything, and I know you have boundaries. If you really don’t want to talk about it, I’ll drop the subject. Princess’s Honour.”

She holds up her hand in a scout-like salute, almost dropping her paintbrush in the process, and Cass laughs.

“As a rogue traveller, Princess’s Honour only goes so far these days.”

“Well, what about Girlfriend’s Honour?”

“Now that, I can work with.” Cass hums in thought. “To tell you the truth, Raps, I just don’t have a great experience with romance. Besides you, of course.”

“I have no experience with romance besides you and Eugene,” Rapunzel remarks. “Does that make us about even?”

Cass grins, shaking her head in exasperation. “Uh, maybe, I guess. Besides, even if I was looking for love – which I’m not, just to clarify – it’s not so straightforward as that.”

“What?! Why? I know you, er, don’t warm up to people so easily, but you’re smart and funny and strong, and you’re beautiful! Any man would-”

“Well that’s one of the bigger hurdles, to start with,” Cass interrupts. Her mouth pulls into a line as she contemplates her next words, her eyes darting between Rapunzel and the door as if calculating her odds of being able to make a hasty exit if things get too personal for her liking. “I don’t date men, Rapunzel. At all. I thought that would be obvious, since I’m in love with you, but...”

Rapunzel stares, brush suspended midway to the canvas as she processes that last statement.

“What, at all? But, I thought – even if you were pretending with Andrew, you still…”

“Seriously?! After all that happened you thought I would actually be attracted to that whiny, pig-headed-”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Rapunzel holds out her hand, and Cass stops her arm-waving tirade to glare at Rapunzel. “Please, Cass, I’m still painting you.”

Cass pulls a face and reluctantly moves back into her original pose, before starting again. “Rapunzel, did you listen to that ridiculous story about the sheepskin jacket? I had to hear it three times. And the preaching on and on about being a bibliophile, while I had to sit there knowing perfectly well he couldn’t even spell the word… Any shred of curiosity I might have had for how the other half lives – it left long before that last retelling, believe me.”

“He had a nice face,” Rapunzel offers.

“A nice face is just a nice face, it doesn’t mean anything. Don’t forget he’s tried to invade Corona twice already.”

“Hmm. Good point. Well, you have me now, so we can forget about that guy.”

“I honestly haven’t given that clown a passing thought in years.” She stands patiently as Rapunzel holds up a tube of paint against her tunic to judge how much warm blue to mix with the yellow in her palette. “Besides, you’re telling me our extremely brief sham relationship felt believable to you? I’m surprised. Romance isn’t something you can just… force.”

And Rapunzel gets that – no, really, she does. While her relationship with Eugene has had its share of rough patches over the years, it’s something that happened organically. After all that she’s been through with Cassandra, it should have been obvious that she’d never had even an ounce of fondness towards the guy she had almost mercilessly swindled. Some small part of Rapunzel just wanted Cass to have felt happy and safe with someone in the days before they got together, she supposes.

“I guess back then I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did,” Rapunzel admits. She etches out Cassandra’s sturdy frame in shades of moss green, each stroke a little bolder than the last. “Maybe I still don’t. But I’d like to, you know! Has there ever been someone else you liked, as more than a friend?”

“...Once,” Cass begrudgingly admits. “It’s not exactly a happy story.”

“But it’s your story.” Rapunzel peers around the canvas to meet Cass’s reluctant gaze. “If you’re willing to share it, I’m here to listen.”

“God, I’ve never talked about this with anyone,” Cass sighs, folding her arms over her chest. This time, Rapunzel doesn’t bother asking her to move back into her original pose, out of fear of detracting from the story. “Well, anyone who doesn’t already know, anyway.”

“It won’t leave this room,” Rapunzel promises. She mixes a shade darker than the tunic and begins to fleck in little details. Stitches, tears, stains, anything to bring the girl on her canvas to life as the girl in front of her begins to recount her tale.

“...Her name was Alix. When I was turned fourteen my education was finished and I got indoctrinated into being a palace maid by my father. Alix was the same age as me but had been working there much longer, so she sort of took me under her wing and taught me the basics of, y'know, folding laundry properly! Making beds to the palace standards! All that stuff.”

“You've never mentioned an Alix before,” Rapunzel murmurs. She tries to conjure an image of this elusive Alix. Was she pretty? Did they understand each other on levels Rapunzel fears the two of them might never? Did she go charging in out of the goodness of her heart, blind to the consequences, like Rapunzel so often does when it comes to Cassandra’s wellbeing?

“There's a reason for that,” Cass sighs. She peeks over at Rapunzel doubtfully. “This... isn't going to paint me in a favourable light.”

“I can take it!” Rapunzel says, almost indignantly. She reaches over, standing on her tiptoes and stretching out her arm as far as it’ll reach past the canvas, to squeeze Cassandra's hand. “It’s me, Cass. You can tell me.”

Cassandra cracks a smile and hangs her head. “All right, all right! But you've been warned. Okay, so... just over a year after we first met, we started… I don’t know, being a couple, I guess. Iit wasn’t anything serious. Or maybe it was. I don't know, it was my first time just – just being with somebody, you know? It was all new to me – liking somebody, liking another girl.”

Rapunzel tries to picture an adolescent Cass, running arm-in-arm with this girl, whose features she just can’t seem to imagine. It’s pretty surreal, seeing as Cass was such a closed-off person when they first met, that she could ever be this giggly teenager smitten over a first crush. Then again, hasn’t Rapunzel been witness to moments like that, when she takes Cassandra’s hand unexpectedly, or hugs her from behind, or puts into words just how much she cares for her?

Against her better judgement, Rapunzel abandons detailing on the tunic and focuses on Cassandra’s face instead, wishing to capture a hint of that life in her eyes; memories of times she’s caught her unguarded, rather than the gloomy face of her girlfriend in front of her.

“So the Day of Hearts is approaching,” Cass continues, “and we’ve been together for a few months. It’s been great. But then one day Alix decides that when the day rolls around, the two of us are going to sign Herz Der Sonne’s journal together.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s a big step.” What else can she say? She and Eugene only signed their names last year, and they’d waited to get engaged before feeling ready to take that next step. She can only imagine the immense pressure someone like Cass, who has always been skittish about committing to anything in the department of romance, would feel when propositioned with something like that.

“Thank you, exactly! It felt like the biggest deal in the world! It was a big commitment, we were way too young, and I didn’t even think we were together long enough to do something like that.”

Rapunzel frowns. “So what happened?”

“We argued about it.” Cass snorts. “She called me chicken, like if she psyched me out enough I’d change my mind. Can you imagine that, saying it’s chicken for not wanting to commit to someone when you’re just barely fifteen?”

Rapunzel can’t imagine. At fifteen she’d never even met someone she could consider a romantic interest. Even the few books in the tower gave her a very limited view on what romance was.

“Anyway, I told her no. A firm no. I didn’t mind us spending the day together, but I didn’t want a written reminder that would show the whole world who we were. Of course, that turned into a fight about, you know, identity politics and pride in ourselves and stuff that as a kid I really didn’t think too much about. Well, she stormed off and I finished my shift as normal.”

Cass’s face changes a little, from this tired exasperation to… something of a stormy expression. “But I didn’t realise that she’d swiped my keys in the heat of our argument. That night, she snuck in and signed our names in the book after dark.”

Rapunzel’s jaw drops.

“But – but that’s against everything the ritual stands for! It’s something couples are meant to do together, with – with complete honesty!”

“Alix didn’t exactly care much about the rules, it’s what drew us together in the first place. Anyway, the next day she told me all about it, like it was something to be proud of. Really gloated that now we were serious and she’d done it because she wasn’t afraid of her feelings or what anybody thought about us.” Cassandra’s eyes narrow at the memory. “So I took a swing at her.”

“With a sword?!” Rapunzel frets.

“What? No, with the end of my broom. We were working. You think I’d still be working in the palace when we met if I’d struck another maid down with a sword?” Cass’s mouth draws into a grim line, and she suddenly finds herself incredibly interested in her own feet. “Well, that turned into the two of us physically fighting, so we were put on latrine duty as punishment and my dad was summoned. I was so distraught about what happened I couldn’t even think about explaining it to him, but somebody happened to overhear what we were fighting about and showed him the book.”

She falls quiet, and the silence stretches on. Rapunzel stops her almost frantic etching of facial features to peer past her canvas in concern, before Cass finally speaks up again. “That’s how he found out about me. About who I was.”

“Are you okay?” Rapunzel asks quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just kind of a horrible way for it all to go down, right?” She looks over at Rapunzel, eyes almost blazing, and utters, “My dad is a good man. He saw how furious and upset I was and marched right to the king to explain the situation. Hours later, our names were papered over and we pretty much never spoke of it again.”

Rapunzel thinks back to the times over the years that she’s spent flipping through the pages of the journal, recalling the one page with a simple square of embossed lilac paper neatly concealing the paper beneath, clearly a later edition. She had always wondered about it.

“And what happened to Alix?” Rapunzel ventures, as she mixes a deep raven for Cassandra’s hair.

“She was fired for breaking into the throne room after hours and desecrating royal property,” Cass recalls with a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “After all, your father is a stickler for tradition. Last I heard she took up a post in Pittsford, but I don’t keep tabs on her or anything.” She spreads her arms out in a theatrical gesture. “Anyway, there you have it. My very sad, very brief experience of love.”

“She sounds awful,” Rapunzel declares, shaking her head in disdain. Cass shrugs.

“She wasn’t. Misguided, inconsiderate and a horrible decision-maker, yes, but she wasn’t a bad person. We were kids. I like to think she’s embarrassed about what happened, but I guess we’ll never know.”

“...So that’s the real reason you hate the Day of Hearts.”

“Raps, we went through this already!” groans Cass. “It’s not to do with any one thing, I just… don’t care for commercial romance and public holidays, that’s all there is to it.” She pinches her brow tiredly. “But I hated the book for years after. Just knowing our names were in there, even if no one else could see, just made me mad.”

“I’m sorry that it happened to you,” Rapunzel says gently. “It wasn’t a fair situation.”

“Yeah, well, what’s done is done. Look, uh…” Cass folds her arms, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “Can you… not tell Eugene about any of that? Or anyone? Not like… that I’m a lesbian, you can tell anybody that. In fact, I’m pretty sure Eugene already knows that part. But… all the stuff about Alix. That whole chapter of my life is kind of embarrassing, and I just. I don’t like to bring it up, so.”

“Cassandra, I promised you,” Rapunzel says, setting down her paintbrush and moving over to her. She grabs her hand and squeezes tight. “This is between us. No matter what.”

Pinched expression melting into relief, Cass squeezes back and squares her shoulders. “Thanks. So, can I see this painting yet? Or move from this spot, at least?”

“Sure, come here.”

Rapunzel leads her over to admire the canvas. The painting is a little odd, compared to Rapunzel’s typical style; the pose is stiff and vacant, just as Cassandra had been stood herself, but the ferocious brush strokes and tiny details woven in amplify the tension radiating from her body language, almost to the point of appearing antagonistic. Likewise, her expression is bright, wide-eyed and challenging; just as it is when Rapunzel says something overtly romantic or daring that takes her away from her usual focused exterior.

The amalgamation of those characteristics creates a vision of Cass that looks ready to jump up and pick a fight at any moment. Rapunzel glances over at Cass, an apology on the tip of her tongue, only to find that her girlfriend looks somewhere between amused and enamoured by the final product.

“I, um, didn’t mean to paint you looking so confrontational,” Rapunzel begins.

“Are you kidding me? I love this! Look, Raps, as much as I love your usual paintings of the two of us smiling at each other and hugging in a meadow or the like, this… it’s unusual for you. It’s fierce. I really, really love it.”

She leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Rapunzel’s head, before pulling her into a side hug. Rapunzel leans into the hug, beaming up at her.

“I’m glad you like it. It makes the standing in one spot for too long worthwhile, doesn’t it?”

“Ehh, almost. I wouldn’t push it too hard, Raps.”

“...Hey, Cass?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you think you’ll ever write your name in Herz Der Sonne’s journal, after what happened?”

“Maybe. See, now that you mention it, there’s this girl who I really like…” Rapunzel cranes her neck to look up at her, unimpressed, and Cass’s mouth quirks into a grin. “I’m talking about you, Raps. Just so we’re clear.”

“No, no, by all means! If there’s someone you’d like me to meet…”

“Well, I’ll give you a hint, it’s definitely not Andrew.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Rapunzel reaches up to cup Cass’s face, gently pulling her in close. “And it’s definitely not that jerk Alix, right?”

Cassandra’s grin grows wider. “You’re not jealous of the girlfriend I briefly had when I was a teenager, are you, Rapunzel?”

“What? No! I just, y’know, wish she’d treated you better, that’s all,” Rapunzel grumbles. “You deserve better, Cass. You deserve the world and more.”

With a huff of laughter, Cass leans in and kisses Rapunzel softly. “Lucky for me, my current girlfriend knows how to treat me right.”

“You know, my magic girlfriend powers work best on the Day of Hearts,” Rapunzel trills, twirling a strand of Cassandra’s hair around her finger. “Just so you’re aware.”

Cass groans. “I better not regret it if I agree to stick around this year.”

“You won’t! We’ll keep it nice and lowkey. You’ll never even know it’s the most romantic day of the year!”

“Uh huh, keep talking…”

Maybe this year won’t be the year. In fact, after everything Cass has told her today, wouldn’t it be super insensitive to broach the topic of signing the book together in two days time? Still, as she glances back to the painting of the tough fighter of a woman staring back at her, warmth washes over her, settling comfortably in the pit of her stomach.

Some day, when the timing is right, wouldn’t it be wonderful?

[mysticsparklewings]

The Dream Crosser

Surprise! NaPoWriMo didn't kill me (and I'm not abandoning dA because of the incoming Eclipse update either, more on that situation here), I just needed a week off to recuperate...and obsessively play Animal Crossing: New Horizons... Admittedly, I actually drew this well over a month ago (and wrote up the majority of the description!), not just before NaPoWriMo but before I actually had New Horizons in my grasp. The plan was to post it the day I got the game. Which was supposed to be much closer to the game's launch (March 20th). That ended up not happening and the day I got the game was the first day of NaPoWriMo, but 1. I messed up with the non-uniform prompts and spent all of the day trying to catch up so I couldn't even play the game yet, and 2. As a side effect, I ended up having two posts that day and a lot of work to do to catch up the second, and I hardly had time to think about posting this. And even if I had posted it, it would've been drowned in the incoming NaPoWriMo posts. And so, here we are. Really, really, I do have to mention that I truly feel for anyone else still waiting on the game for whatever reason. You have my deepest sympathy and I'm so sorry I can't just give you the game right now and make it better.  I know the wait was hard enough for me, being this is the one game I highly anticipated in over a year and I essentially had the rug yanked out from under me. But I'll save that story for after I talk about the art itself since I'm sure that's what most people are here for and not my pre-order frustrations. So in case you don't know or couldn't tell, this is the lovely Luna from AC: New Leaf's Dream Suite. From what we've seen of New Horizons since it's release, the Dream Suite's functions and purpose have been mostly absolved into the Airport and Dodo Codes, and so I'm very doubtful Luna will actually be in the game in any capacity, which makes me sad. A typical player (including me) wouldn't even necessarily interact with Luna that much in New Leaf unless you really enjoy visiting other towns using Dream Codes, so I'm not sure what it is, but for some reason I just really like her. That's why I picked her to draw to celebrate. I very nearly drew her a long time ago when I was on an Animal Crossing kick in 2018, but at the time I didn't like the idea of pressuring myself into drawing all and/or multiple AC characters just because I wanted to be "fair" to them all (much the same reason I don't draw Pokemon very often), so I ended up drawing One Little Spark, a crossover of the Disney character Figment drawn in the New Leaf style, instead. So in a way, she's had this coming for quite a while. At the time I started working on her, (way back in early March, because I was hoping beyond hope my pre-order would arrive to me actually on launch day, but ha ha ha look who's got egg on her face for that ) I was running a bit dry on artistic motivation, and so while I tried to draw her in my usual manner: Making a sketch, transferring the sketch onto different paper with finalized lines, then picking whichever coloring method I was most into at the time), I was struggling with the sketch. I've had days where I have to work on a sketch for a really long time before I can get something I'm happy with, but this day I was just so not into the whole sketching process. I wanted to create, but I wanted it to be quick and easy and simple. I didn't want to have to poke at it for hours and hours and then still maybe not be happy when I was done. So when I got discouraged enough, I broke away from trying to draw Luna and just drew mandalas instead. (As had become my art-block crutch for a little while.) Somewhere in me, as I worked on other things, I kept going back and forth on what to do about Luna, though. I did still want to draw her, but my usual formula just wasn't working for me. Not for her. I even tried briefly to draw her linelessly, digitally, as what was supposed to be a quick and simple experiment, but that went downhill even faster than sketching did. Although, for some reason, the lineless idea wouldn't leave me alone after that. Finally, I decided to try something completely different. I was going to try and free-handedly draw her, without lines, traditionally. With, primarily, alcohol markers. Honestly, the thought minorly horrifies me now just as much as it did before I started. And yet, here we are and I actually like how it turned out. Allow me to explain how this came together: So, since I wasn't sure how this was going to turn out once I decided to try it, I opted to use my not-so-great mixed media paper so I wouldn't feel guilty about wasting better paper if I ended up hating it. Naturally, this did lead to some notable limitations, but not enough to discourage me from trying. I dove right in with the dark brown for her head and body, focusing on getting the general shapes down. I'd noticed some glaring mistakes in my mostly unproductive sketching when it came to Luna's body proportions, so I tried to keep those things in mind and adjust accordingly as I went. It was scary because there is no erasing this way short of using white paint and because this paper feathers pretty noticeably with markers. Then once I got to a certain point, I had to switch and bring in some pink and off-white markers to draw in parts of her dress so I knew where to put her other arm and her legs. And here is where I technically cheated; I did use my "clear" Stardust Gelly Roll pen to do most of the outlines for her dress. I needed some kind of guideline, but pencil tends to get yucky when you put markers on top and at the time I couldn't really think of a better option. (The joke was kind of on me because somehow I still got a nasty gray line that looked like pencil under her bust that I had to gently edit out later in Photoshop, but I digress.) As I went with the markers, I was also doing some light shading. Not too much, because this paper is really fussy with layers and blending, but enough that I felt like it didn't look completely flat and I could tell where one shape ended and another started. Though, for her nose (trunk? I believe Luna is supposed to be a Tapir) and her raised arm, I had to get a little creative and I used a white brush pen meant for glass/ceramics to put in the lines so you could actually see them. And later I would use the same pen in 3-4 layers to add the white back in for her eyes. With the base for her body, dress, and the bun part of her hair done though, then I had the task of figuring out what to do for her shoes and the details of her face. (Without having to mix and use specific paint for those tiny details.) In the end, I opted to mostly use my classic red Gelly Roll pen for her shoes, and a little bit of a dark red alcohol marker for shading. And then I got to experiment with mixing the classic red and one of the Moonlight Gelly Rolls for her lips so that the color would be visible and not just a dark lip-shaped "what is this." This was because the classic Gelly Rolls don't show up super well on dark surfaces and the Moonlight ones do, but I didn't have the right color straight out of a Moonlight pen. It did take 2-3 careful layers, but I think I managed well enough in the end. I used just one black pen, a Prismacolor brush-tip fine liner, for her eyes, though in-person the white base underneath makes her pupils look about a shade or two lighter from certain angles, which was a very unintentional nice touch. My answer to everything else ended up being gouache, although I did try to come up with pen colors for her eye shadow and the blue dots on her cheeks before admitting defeat that I just didn't have the colors I needed. Originally, I had actually been thinking of trying a lineless art piece with gouache, as I think it would work particularly well for that look, but I wasn't ready to fully commit to the idea, mostly because I seem to be even worse at mixing a non-excessive amount of a specific color with gouache than I am with acrylics, and that sounds like a fantastic way to waste a bunch of palette space because I mixed too much but it's gouache so it can be re-wet and re-use it and I don't want to just throw it away...  (Although I suppose this could be half-way solved by getting a bigger palette specifically for mixing gouache, but I also don't want to have to buy yet another palette when I have some perfectly good ones...If I could just use up all the paint in them already...) Anyway. Point: This is kind of a step between a full lineless gouache piece and not doing one at all. Baby steps, yes? I knew from fairly early on that I was probably going to have to use gouache for the front part of her hair/bangs, since I did not thoroughly plan ahead enough and didn't leave a gap there to do it with markers. Fortunately, I didn't have to do much mixing since my gouache already has a nice yellow ochre color included, and I could use a bit of the other two browns and one I had some leftover mixed already from Roses in Your Eyes for shading. (White for the flowers, too, thank goodness.) And I actually ended up going over most of her bun with gouache too since, by comparison, the marker didn't look like it had much shading and it was bothering me. I did have to mix my own blue and pinky-purple for her makeup, and I ended up with a lot of leftover pinky-purple. But it's kind of okay because by itself it's such a pretty color I'm sure I'll find an excuse to use that one. After that, I just had to do some minor tweaks where the gouache had gotten a bit away from me and then I went ham on the shading for the dress based on my reference photo. Then I realized I wanted some kind of background because this seemed awfully boring without one. And, naturally, I hadn't really planned ahead for that, me being me and being in habit of doing the background last... At first, I wanted to do something hot pink, since her official Amiibo card has a hot pink background, but then I thought that might be a little too loud and I wasn't really sure the best way to apply one without potentially messing her up. And also, this isn't watercolor or paper thicker than 140 lb, which immediately threw watercolor out the window unless I wanted a very uneven paper when I was finished. I'd already pushed my luck with the gouache and been very careful about not using much water with it; I decided it was best not to push my luck any farther. Also, I couldn't use my pink PanPastel, despite that being maybe my best option, because it is still perpetually screwed onto the little Pan Pastel stack with no hope of getting unstuck anytime soon. (One of these days I swear, I will order either another set like the one I have or an individual Pink one to solve this problem, but until then, I am going to bring it up every single time as a caution to others to please be very careful when screwing and unscrewing your own Pan Pastels if you store them screwed together.) And I didn't feel like dragging out some of my drawing pastels and/or makeup that's too expired to use on my face and very slowly building up color and hoping it'll do what the Pan Pastels do. With no better ideas coming to me, I decided I'd leave the drawing for the night and come back to it the next day. After yet more brainstorming the next day, I finally settled on doing a glittery rounded rectangle and filling it with washi tape stripes. This plan did change a little as I figured out which tapes I wanted to use (a purple-y, champagne gold, and light pink ones, the latter two of which look more different in-person than they do on the scan) and as I actually started applying the lines. Partially because this tape is a bit thin and partially because I'm not used to cutting tape around very specific shapes, it took a very long time to both place strips of the tape and then get them cut to fit right up to Luna without looking strange. Once I got to a certain point going in one direction, I realized my next couple of cuts were just going to be too hard for me to stand. I had a choice: Ditch the tape, or figure something else out. Taking a risk, I decided to try and salvage it by doing an almost-plaid/checkerboard with the tape, specifically leaving out certain areas where I knew it would be too tricky to cut the tape. This also turned out to be a good way to use up some of the pieces of tape I'd already cut off that were too small to be used the other way. It's still not the greatest background solution I've ever come up with, but it does the job of making it look less empty, and that's really all I wanted anyway. And you know, compared to official images her proportions look wonky, but by herself (meaning, without comparing the two) I think Luna looks pretty good, actually. (Though, I admit I did have to tweak her right ear in Photoshop because it came out entirely too long and there wasn't really a good way for me to fix it by hand.) To think, this piece started out as such a mess. Or rather, I was such a mess when I started. And yet, here we are, and it looks kinda okay. Okay enough that I finished it and am posting it, at least.   I have no idea if I'll be returning to this style/method for art-making in the future, but even if I don't it was a nice experiment to try, and that's what art is really all about isn't it? Experimenting, trying new things? Speaking of experimenting though, about those pre-order frustrations I mentioned now that I've covered everything about the art itself...(in small text for those that don't care to easily skip over) Back in February I tried twice to pre-order New Horizons from Target, since they were running an ad where if you pre-ordered the game you'd also get an AC themed journal with it, and that combined with my family member's employee discount made it the cheapest/best value way for us to buy the game. As I said, I tried to order it twice. Both times, it was sold out. My family member had even tried to go to the store and have them order it before then, to no avail. After the second time, which was the day after Target sent out the sale paper with the new ad in it, while I was still frustratedly wondering how on earth do you sell out of a pre-order?? I kept refreshing the page every so often just to see if by some fluke it would miraculously not be sold out. I got very lucky around 3 in the afternoon and we managed to get the order in before it sold out again. Now, we're a relatively cheap family, so we didn't pay for the "express shipping" or whatever. Although, this was a $60 game and we were ordering it three whole weeks (on March 2nd) before release. If you ask me, the least they could do is have it shipped out either on launch day (March 20th) or the day after. Especially if I can pre-order a book on Amazon with three days' notice and they can still get it to me on release day. But, okay, I could live with waiting an extra day or up to maybe three if I had to. (And, to be fair, this was all before a certain virus exploded into chaos here in the US.) Much to my dismay, a week before NH release day, I checked the order status with Target only to be told I wouldn't get it until the 26th. A week later. That was pretty disappointing at the time, but it didn't really bother me until the day before and the day of launch when some people were getting their pre-orders early from places like Amazon and Best Buy (and some of them didn't even pay for the express shipping option from their selected source). If those two companies could plan around virus constraints to do that, why in the heck couldn't Target? But, okay, fine. Maybe the virus had something to do with it and they were really doing the best they could. Whatever. A week. Fine. I'll wait a week. A few days later though, we got an email saying: Surprise! Don't expect your dumb video game until April 3rd because we couldn't get our act together! (Okay, that's not what it really said, but that's what it felt like.) And I know, I promise I so know there are much more serious issues going on in the world right now and a video game about talking animals isn't exactly a priority shipment. I know. But it was still massively upsetting after I'd already waited so long. And, honestly, I feel like they had plenty of time and notice to take care of the game before everything else exploded and messed it all up. Again, especially if other companies already had time to even ship orders early and/or get the games to people on launch day. Or the day after. TWO WEEKS after launch, and you don't tell me about the secondary delay until the week I started expecting the game to already be in the mail on it's way to me? The only tiny silver lining is that as I was checking the order to make sure it didn't miraculously get pushed back to sometime in 2021 (because I really had no faith in Target's time estimates at this point) is that it did get bumped back up to April 1st. Although, I did think that it would be the absolute least funny April Fools' Day Joke ever if the day came and it was late because screw me.  But it did arrive to me on April 1st as promised; I just had a million other things to do before I could play it. ) And I will say, I know I could've just canceled the pre-order and bought the game digitally, but it was enough of a hassle to order it in the first place, and if I did that I'd also lose my pre-order bonus. And all that aside, I specifically wanted a physical copy to begin with. I always prefer that when it's possible. So people on the internet that want to eat me alive for not canceling when the shipping got screwed up, there are my reasons. Take 'em or leave 'em. (Seriously, I've seen some people be really rude about this just because they didn't like hearing people upset that they didn't have the game yet...when they already had it themselves or didn't care about AC in the first place...) Moral of the story: Don't pre-order from Target. Or, at least, don't expect the item to actually get to you right around release day. Account for at least two additional weeks of not having the thing. ...Seriously though, how do you sell out of a pre-order?? At least, when it's a highly anticipated game and you're a big company and not some small indie company with limited resources! Sheesh! Anyway. I have the game now, I've been playing it as much as possible and enjoying it. I still have a ways to go before my island is "complete" per se, but it's coming along nicely and I feel more comfortable now taking some more time away from it to get back into the swing of making art and things like that. So hopefully I'll be getting back into a regular posting schedule and you'll have that to look forward to. 

____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[burliforti]

Rose of England

My entry for the Good Omens fanwork exchange arranged by @transarmageddon. I created this based off a prompt from @vecieminde. The prompt that I was most heavily inspired by was “Aziraphale and Crowley exploring an abandoned place which glory days they might have witnessed”. Full disclosure: I am a bit of a history nerd and so one abandoned place turned into many which turned into a road trip across rural England with a pit stop in Wales. At certain times I veered a bit further from the main prompt than I was hoping but I hope you still enjoy! (About 9.5K and no warnings apply. I’m having a beta review it and then I’ll probably post to AO3) Heavily inspired by the Vera Lynn album “Rose of England” (I am bad at titles and simply borrowed that.) Definitely recommend a listen, it’s a wonderful album. Fic under the cut.

Prologue: London

It had been three weeks since the very last day of the rest of their lives. Not surprisingly, in the aftermath of perhaps the most chaotic week in all of creation Aziraphale and Crowley had been having some difficulty slipping back into their old routines. The sudden lack of oversight was a relief but left them both with a degree of freedom that they weren’t quite sure what to do with. Crowley no longer had to plan elaborate schemes to generate widespread low-grade evil and Aziraphale found himself without his usual laundry list of miscellaneous miracles and holy interventions, leaving both with a sudden and dramatic increase of spare time. Heaven and Hell had, apparently, taken their warnings to heart and had left them alone. 

They managed to slip into parts of their old routines. Aziraphale would go out to lunch in small french bistros and read Virginia Woolf in the plush reading chair in his study. Crowley had continued to scheme for a time out of habit but eventually tapered off to random pranks and messing with people who drive below the speed limit on highways and members of parliament. His house plant hobby had flourished into a full horticulture obsession. The apartment whose predominant palette had been black and grey for several decades now found itself green, green, and green. He wasn’t really one for flowers, preferring varieties such as ferns, ivy, and more recently, mosses. Crowley had acquired an impressive and wide array of mosses, spanning continents and centuries, quite literally finding himself with the only remaining iteration of certain ancient mosses (Crowley’s imagination did not know that these had gone extinct. He simply remembered soft, curling greenery on teak trees and there they had appeared). 

Aziraphale had also picked up a few hobbies. He had a tendency to do so. Dancing, magic, prophecies. They weren’t exactly phases (for he did still truly enjoy all of these things), but Aziraphale had a meandering mind that was always eager for new knowledge. Recently, he had come across an antique store looking for any interesting books. Instead, he had left the premises with a vintage camera that stood on a wooden tripod, that by all accounts should not have been able to work anymore, but miraculously, did indeed take photos. This began a new collection of vintage cameras and various other photographic contraptions. He particularly enjoyed taking pictures of nature (trees were much better at sitting still than wily serpents who would fidget and blur the images). Eventually, Crowley bought him a polaroid camera. He was annoyed of being forced to sit still for the negatives and dealing with Aziraphale hauling his many apparatuses on their walks. The polaroid was a bit newfangled for Aziraphale’s taste, but he enjoyed not having to develop negatives and being able to immediately see the images. Crowley did not mind this hobby as much as he had others (nothing could be worse than the magic. As long as taking photos of birds and elms prevented Aziraphale getting into card tricks or whatever nonsense than he would limit his complaints.) Yet even as they settled into old routines and found new ones, both beings found themselves on edge despite the apparent resolution to most of their problems. You see, Aziraphale and Crowley were bored. And Aziraphale had just the idea. 

“A vacation?” Crowley replied as they sat in St James Park, sitting on a bench watching the ducks bob in and out of the water. 

“It’s been so long since we left the city. Not since all that nonsense, and even that was barely two hours outside London. Before you mostly got around for work, and since our, well, retirement, I don’t believe either of us has really traveled much. Thought it might be a nice change of pace.” 

“And where exactly were you thinking?”

“Oh, nowhere in particular. Although there are a few sites that I’d like to revisit. It’s been so long since I properly traveled. Human beings have created some truly marvelous places.”

“Destroyed just as many too.” 

“And then rebuilt. I’m sure even you have an old spot or two you wouldn’t mind revisiting.”

Crowley paused, considering this with a great amount of reluctance. “I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve been ‘round the countryside.” He replied, begrudgingly. 

Aziraphale’s face lit up in a bright smile. “Splendid! I suppose there is no point in waiting around. I’m already packed, I will see you at the shop tomorrow, bright and early!” 

Crowley looked at him in disbelief. “Tomorrow?!” 

Rochester Castle

Crowley did arrive early, although it wasn’t a particularly bright October morning. He pulled up in his Bently and had hardly gotten out of the car when Aziraphale burst through the shop door, hauling a large two-piece antique luggage set and two vintage cameras.

Aziraphale flashed a brilliant smile “Good morning, dear boy!” Crowley walked over to Aziraphale and grabbed the luggage out of his hands. “Let me take that.” Aziraphale let him take the bags and took the cameras in both arms. “Why, thank you.” Crowley dragged the luggage toward the Bentley. “What on earth do you have in here? You’ve been wearing the same outfit for over a century.”

“Books, mostly. Some light reading I’ve been meaning to do.”

“Hardly light,” Crowley complained, lifting the luggage into the trunk with great difficulty. Aziraphale carefully laid out the camera equipment in the backseat, with the exception of the polaroid which he kept in a small camera bag over his shoulder. Crowley slammed the\trunk and sauntered over to the drivers side.

“So where are we off to, angel?”   

“Well I didn’t want anything too adventurous, and I know you’re hard-pressed to leave your vehicle. Perhaps a week or two, just in the countryside. Breath of fresh air, maybe even revisit some old favorites?” 

“Fine by me.”

“And I thought it best to start south and work our way up. What do you think?”

“Any destination in mind?” 

“Oh, not really. It’s been so long since I’ve been that farther south than London.”

“Ever been to Rochester Castle? Less than half an hour from here.”

“Rochester? Off the Medway? Shouldn’t that be at least an hour– Crowley slow down!”

They arrived 40 minutes later. Aziraphale was not incorrect in that it should have taken an hour and Crowley had also not been mistaken in that it could have been merely half an hour, but at Aziraphale’s continued pleas of “Slow down Crowley!” they had met somewhat in the middle. Luckily tourist season tended to slow down this time of year. The employees of the estate had kindly left them to their own affairs. Aziraphale had picked up a brochure and was reading it as the two of them explored the keep. 

“They say it had originally been given to Bishop Odo, probably by William the Conqueror.” 

“Never met him.” 

“Oh you weren’t missing much, I didn’t find him to be particularly charming. Although it is possible that I insulted him upon our first meeting. Never could wrap my mind around french. All that gender and tense. Feminine chairs and male houses, utter nonsense.”

“I believe houses are also feminine.”

“My point! Completely arbitrary. And the tenses, what language needs nine different types of past tense? They live such short lives I don’t see the point.” 

Crowley let Aziraphale rant as they continued to stroll along corridors and in and out of almost accurate historical reimaginings of bedrooms and parlors. Crowley hadn’t been to Rochester Castle since the Peasants’ Revolt in 1381. He really had absolutely hated the 14th century. He had gotten so fed up, in fact, that he had whispered in a handful of ears of ‘injustice’ and ‘revolution’. He hadn’t had much of an end goal in mind, just anything to shake up that dreadful century. It hadn’t really gone anywhere, unfortunately. He didn’t see much of Aziraphale that century, not with the war and the plague. Such a bore and with awful fashion. It had been such a relief when the Renaissance properly took off. 

“You’ve been awfully silent, Crowley.” 

He quirked an eyebrow over his glasses. “Let’s go to the gardens.”  

They made their way into the Castle’s exterior and into the gardens that encircled the estate. English roses, bright Dahlias, twisting ivys, and sweetly scented Begonias dominated the courtyard. Aziraphale was enjoying the vibrant colors and heavenly floral perfumes while Crowley glared critically at pests and withering leaves. 

“I think this is going to be a marvelous holiday.” 

Crowley wandered over to one of the bushes and picked one of halfway decent begonias, sauntering back over to Aziraphale. He walked directly in front of him and stopped just shy of the other man. 

“If you say so.” He replied, pinning the flower to a blushing Aziraphale’s lapel. 

“Oh, no need for all of that.” He said waving his hand toward the plucked stem. An even more vibrant flower bloomed in its place.  

“So,” Crowley asked, returning to his place by Aziraphale’s side, “where to next?” 

Bodiam Castle 

Aziraphale had asked one of the local historical guides, who suggested Bodiam Castle, which was an hour south of Rochester Castle near Robertsbridge in East Sussex. She had also suggested a local family run pub for lunch. Aziraphale had given Crowley a wide-eyed look to which Crowley could only roll his eyes and say “Yes, yes alright. It’s your holiday, angel.” Aziraphale had taken note at some point of the increase of Crowley’s use of ‘angel’ to describe him. He had subsequently filed away the observation to ‘thoughts that need no further introspection or deliberation’. They ate (or Aziraphale ate) a slow and peaceful lunch. He seemed to enjoy his fish and chips and was particularly impressed by the tartar sauce (homemade apparently, an old family recipe). The batter was also very pleasant but he didn’t much care for the chips. Crowley picked a few off of his plate absentmindedly. They ate mostly in silence, Aziraphale enjoying the fish and Crowley enjoying Aziraphale. 

They continued on their journey, arriving in Robertsbridge in significantly less than an hour (much to Aziraphale’s terror). Aziraphale had in fact once visited Bodiam Castle, many years ago during the war of the roses. It had been abandoned in picturesque ruins for decades but had been restored in the early 20th century. Crowley and Aziraphale explored the property. While the exterior had been well preserved, the interior was now in ruins. 

“It had been quite nice when I had visited. I was presenting as a clergyman on the road back in those days, you know. Made seeking shelter much easier and people would listen to me, which was quite helpful on certain occasions.”

“I imagine it explained all those Bibles you carried with you.”

“Well yes, I suppose that’s true.” 

“There is still a beauty to it now, albeit a different sort of beauty.”

“Seems like regular old ruins to me.” 

“You don’t feel any sort of, oh I don’t know, whimsy or appreciation?” 

“I don’t really go in for whimsy, angel.”

They continued to explore for quite some time, Aziraphale taking full advantage of their solitude and the picturesque ruins by taking many photographs, both with the antique camera on a tripod and the polaroid. Aziraphale had started off carrying the larger camera but Crowley had soon taken over after a passing mention of discomfort by Aziraphale. They made their way outside, strolling along the edge of the moat as the sunset. 

“Oh, what a beautiful sky it is tonight. Crowley, do you mind putting down the camera? I’d like to get some photos, lighting is simply marvelous.”

“Not like we’ve seen the sunset a million times already. The same sky and the same sun for 6,000 years.”  

Aziraphale ignored him, setting up the camera into the correct position. The tripod was close to the water's edge, overlooking the horizon. Aziraphale watched the sky change from red, orange, and yellow to deep purple and pitch black from behind a camera lens. Crowley watched Aziraphale burn brilliant in a fiery sky to softly glowing in the moonlit night.   

Tintagel Castle

Crowley suggested the next location: Tintagel Castle. It was quite a ways away on the southwestern coast but he insisted that the view was worth it, and besides it had been ages since either of them had been to the Celtic sea. It was by far the longest drive they had undertaken so far. A direct route would have taken five hours (perhaps three with Crowley behind the wheel), but Aziraphale had asked if they could drive past the channel on the way there and Crowley wasn’t exactly in the habit of denying any request or desire the angel had. With the scenic detour, the drive should have been close to 7 hours but ended up closer to five anyways, accounting for a lunch break.

Aziraphale was able to manage (tolerate, more accurately) Crowley’s breakneck speeds on the lonely country roads. Rolling hills with the occasional grazing livestock and farmhouses turned into rocky cliffs and blue-grey waters. Aziraphale enjoyed the picturesque landscapes and lack of the usual urban chaos, while Crowley enjoyed the lack of other vehicles and an open road where the speed limit was hardly a thought. They hadn’t talked much, Aziraphale occasionally putting on a CD (he didn’t quite grasp the concept at first but he was getting the hang of it.) Most of the disks had been left in the car and forgotten for more than a fortnight, and Crowley could only tolerate ‘We Will Rock You’ by Benjamin Britten or ‘We Are The Champions’ by Handle so many times. Thankfully, he had remembered to bring in some CDs from the apartment that had yet to become a compilation of Queen’s Greatest Hits. Aziraphale preferred classical, so they listened to Bach, Vaughn Williams, Holst, and various other (although predominantly British) composers. They were listening to Simple Symphony (actually by Benjamin Britten) when Crowley finally slowed and pulled into a half-full parking lot. Luckily the castle and surrounding expanse were quite large and the two could easily keep away from any crowds.

They explored the ruins of a castle for a time, Crowley relaying stories of his time in Richard of Cornwall (both from his time in the castle and during the Barons’ Crusade. Aziraphale had been preoccupied at the time by some work further west in Southampton.) Eventually, the crowds started to bother both of them and they naturally wandered away from the ruins and over the large bridge. 

“You know I rarely made it out to this part of the country, but it’s quite lovely.  The view is spectacular.”

Crowley squinted and peered upwards towards the gathering clouds. “Looks like it might rain.”

“Oh, I’m sure it would only take a slight miracle to ensure clear skies until the end of our visit. I was thinking for after– oh!” Aziraphale’s eyes went wide as the unfortunate combination of a strong gust of wind off the sea and a damp patch on the footbridge made him stumble and lose his footing. Before he could find purchase on the guard rails he felt two hands reach out and grab his arms, helping him upright. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley who in turn looked down at him in concern. 

“You alright?” 

Aziraphale laughed nervously, brushing himself off. “Oh yes, I’m quite alright, just taken a little off guard I suppose…” He trailed off. There hadn’t been any danger really, the footbridge had quite a high railing and Aziraphale had wings for heaven’s sake but peering down at the cold water crashing up against the stony cliffs made his head spin for a moment. “Thank you.” He finally said. 

Crowley made a noise of displeasure in return, “Can’t have you being discorporated middle of your vacation abandoning me in Cornwall of all places.”

“Our vacation. Besides, you suggested Tintagel.” 

“Ngk.” 

Neither of them made the first move, remaining stationary on the footbridge for another beat. 

“You can let go of me now, Crowley.”

He looked down at his hands which were indeed still wrapped around the other's arms. His cheeks turned slightly pink as he let go, refusing to look at the other as they continued on.  

Glastonbury Abbey 

Aziraphale insisted they stop by Glastonbury Abbey the next day, tentatively starting northward. 

“I’m shocked you never made it out there yourself back in the day, dear boy. Frightfully important, I can recall quite the drama and importance for quite a long stretch of time. Second only to Westminster.” 

“I avoided abbeys as a general rule. Parishes, monasteries, cathedrals, whole lot of them. Not exactly my scene.”

“Shame really, some truly exquisite architecture. The food wasn’t exactly top-notch, but some of the better dining from that era at any rate. I’d imagine you’d be quite fine now, been in ruins for centuries.” 

The sky was clear and blue, the grass a vibrant green. There were a few tourists who were wandering about the grounds but left the two beings be. They wandered through the decrepit cathedral, ceiling completely gone and missing good portions of the walls. While Aziraphale doubted that any previous blessings were still in place, Crowley was wary and remained outside of the ruined Holy buildings. 

“It really was quite a marvel. I had the occasion to visit on a number of occasions throughout the centuries, sent here quite often for holy interventions, miracles, enlightenment, heavenly visions, the whole nine yards as they say. You’re sure you never made it over here during, well, the Arrangement?”

Aziraphale quieted at the last two words. He had always been much more prudish, more embarrassed regarding their previous understanding. Perhaps it was because Crowley had much more experience rebelling and bending rules, but if they were being honest with themselves (although they rarely were), Aziraphale also had a fair bit of experience bending rules, he was just more adept at making excuses for it and felt much more guilty about it afterward.  

“Nope. Besides, I believe the heyday of the great Abbeys predated our agreement.”

“I suppose that’s true. Those old Catholics enjoyed their drama. I tried to stay out of it mostly, politics was never really my forte. I recall having to give a vision to one of the old Abbotts back in the 12th century. Something about inspiring a new sermon, I can’t quite recall.”

Crowley made some noise to indicate that he was still listening (which he was in fact doing. He liked to put up an air of indifference but he always listened, and Aziraphale knew this.) 

“You know I was able to get a first edition of “On the Antiquity of the Glastonese Church”? Signed by William of Malmesbury. Wonderful historian, and splendid company. He had a terrific collection at the Malmesbury Abbey and was kind enough to give me a number of his books, all with signed inscriptions. Later in his life, he was kind enough to gift me some of the notable works in his personal collection. His second edition of Gesta Regum Anglorum is a classic.”

Aziraphale continued to ramble on as they explored the Abbey grounds. Crowley listened quietly but intently. Their conversations usually involved both of their active participation but Crowley had never minded whenever Aziraphale would stumble into his ramblings. They occasionally reminisced, exchanging amusing stories and recounting shared adventures, but on that rare but treasured occasions a topic would arise and Aziraphale could literally talk for days on end, one story spilling into the next. Crowley’s original thought to describe it had been cute, but that couldn’t possibly be it.     

“It’s impressive how long these have stayed standing, even if they have fallen into a bit of disrepair.” Aziraphale finally quieted, inviting a response from Crowley. 

“‘Spose. They always did like to show off. Always obsessed with posterity.”

“And these are hardly the oldest, even just in England. And we’ve been there for all of it.” Aziraphale spoke softly, his eyes unfocused as he gazed far beyond the old Abbey. Crowley glanced at him. He had a tendency to be sentimental after these long trips down memory lane. Crowley himself had never quite at the proclivity for the sentimental. 

“And they’ll keep building places of worship and keep writing history books. Come on, I saw a sign for a nearby for an italian restaurant, we’ll grab you some lunch.” 

Bath 

After lunch, they drove a bit farther north to the city of Bath. This had been the largest city they had visited so far. They stopped by bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the town, preferring the larger space, quiet countryside, and easy parking it provided. They took the day to explore the city, visiting various historical sites. They walked by the Abbey (although they did not venture inside as a courtesy to Crowley), Pulteney Bridge, strolled down Royal Crescent, popped briefly into Holburne museum but quickly left when Aziraphale got fed up with the minor inconsistencies and incorrect speculation. They continued their walk and eventually came across a beautifully restored Georgian home with a bronze plaque that reads: 

Here lived William Herschel 

A.D. 1781 

and a sign above that that read ‘Herschel Museum of Astronomy’. It looked to be mostly vacant, which made sense seeing as it was about 2 o’clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday during the school year, with the peak of the tourist season being a few months behind them.

“Oh, I remember that fellow. Quite the eclectic man; astronomer, biologist, musician, and composer, though if memory serves his scientific career fared better than his artistic one. I saw the premiere of his eighth symphony and you know, I really did enjoy it. I’m not sure why he’s been relegated to the background of classical composers. I suppose now it’s so strongly dominated by Mozart, Haydn, Shubert, and a few other fellows that it didn’t leave much room for others. Truth be told I think Haydn might be slightly overrated. You write 107 symphonies but only a handful are noteworthy in any way. You knew him, didn’t you? I recall you hanging around with the Royal Astronomical Society for a time before sleeping through most of the next century.” 

Crowley hummed in acknowledgment. “Yeah, hung around with that lot periodically end of the 18th century. He and his sister, Caroline, pushed the field miles forward. Shall we head inside?” 

Crowley held open the door for Aziraphale and they headed inside the quiet Georgian household. They handed over a few pounds to the receptionist who put a little stamp of a planet with stars on each of their right hands.  They quickly passed through exhibits pertaining to more recent events, preferring to linger in the sections that focused on Herschel and his discoveries. 

“I liked him. Quite sharp. Corrected a few older discoveries, which I appreciated. It was annoying having to sit through some of those Royal Society lectures calling some of the star clusters nebulae. He and Caroline discovered and cataloged a boatload of nebulae, clusters, comets, the like. Nice to finally have your work properly appreciated after nearly 6000 years. We used to gossip about the bores over at the Royal Society and I helped get Caroline get a paid position at the government. I mean why would they be paying him but not her?”

“That was very kind of you, Crowley.” 

He made a face of displeasure in return, “Hardly. If she hadn’t been employed who else would have discovered my comets and cataloged my nebulae? Quite proud of those, you know, and no one there to appreciate all my hard work. ‘Oh look at the beautiful waterfalls, the beautiful forests’, please. Hardly any craftsmanship in a waterfall. Some rocks and a river. But a planetary nebula? A red dwarf? Combustion, gravity, electromagnetism, a delicate balance of helium, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and however many other elements. When old Will finally got that telescope of his up and running, the look on his face when he saw them all, it was like finally, someone can appreciate some true artistry. I will say the nerve of those two constantly referring to it as ‘the heavens’. Heaven wished it looked like that.”

Aziraphale looked wistfully at a newer photo of the butterfly nebula. “You know, during all that time it took humans to properly observe the cosmos, I appreciated it. All the stars and nebulae, pulsars and supernovae. I wasn’t able to get out much personally, but I was lucky enough on a few occasions. It was breathtaking. And on earth, we can see much farther than they can, even with some of their telescopes. I’ll spare a glance here and there when I get the chance, and it really is unparalleled.” Aziraphale stopped, still looking firmly at the nebula in front of him. He spoke softer this time. “Dare I say it, maybe even more beautiful than anything here on earth.” A pause. His head turned slightly towards Crowley and met his eyes beneath the shades. “Or rather, almost anything.” 

Crowley’s head snapped violently back towards the image, not daring to look back at Aziraphale. Earth had been almost entirely God’s pet project, the vast majority anyways. Some details had been relegated to other angels. But the earth had always truly been Hers. Aziraphale’s proclamation of the superior beauty of the cosmos was… a lot to process. Not to mention the meaning of the angel’s pointed glance at him. It was a bit too much for Crowley. He coughed, still not meeting the other’s eyes. 

“Off to the Baths then?” 

Kenilworth Castle 

“Kenilworth, now this is a real castle,” Crowley said, picking away at the grapes on the fruit platter. They had driven north from Bath that morning, exiting the South West and entering into the West Midlands. Crowley accompanied Aziraphale to a hearty breakfast before their departure. They continued to avoid the main roads, Crowley speeding through old dirt roads in the countryside. Aziraphale would point out every herd of sheep, every single baby calf, every mangy looking old goat while a look of utter delight and whimsy. He had become completely enamored with the countryside and Crowley was beginning to worry about how he would ever get him back to the city. 

“Oh look at those horses! There’s a small black foal, isn’t it just darling? Shall we stop by to say hello?” 

Crowley glowered at the animals that were grazing the field they were driving past and pushed down even harder on the gas in response.

“You’re no fun, my dear.” 

“Awful creatures. They smell, they buck, they attract flies, painful as all hell to ride, and generally terrible. Not even properly evil, just badly designed and poorly executed. The automobile is definitely among the greatest human inventions along with alcohol and sunglasses. Shame when they stopped making glue out of the bastards.” 

Aziraphale smacked him (not so lightly) on his arm, “Crowley! What an awful thing to say!” 

“What? They deserve it.” 

“My goodness, what on earth did horses ever do to you.”

“What didn’t they do? Centuries of sore buttocks, horse flies, and manure. The smell, Aziraphale, do you remember it? The streets were absolutely disgusting, it’s no wonder I stayed inside for most of the 18th century.”

“I think you’re being too harsh on them. I find them quite majestic.”

“Nothing majestic about your teeth taking up more room in your skull than your brain.” 

“Well, I quite like them.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Suit yourself, angel.”

They continued north for another hour or so, eventually stopping in Stratford-Upon-Avon to pick up some food for a picnic (actually Crowley’s suggestion) and to pay respects to an old friend. They continued on, taking many detours, arriving at the castle just in time for lunch. Crowley pulled out a picnic blanket from the trunk (whether it had been there the whole time or if he had just miracled it then, Aziraphale didn’t know. Regardless, he was touched by the gesture.) He laid it out under the shade of a nearby Ash tree that grew just a bit outside the central keep. 

“Yes, it had its fair share of excitement back in the day.” Aziraphale agreed. 

“Came to see King John here once. What a prick. That whole family was a mess. Richard and Henry weren’t that awful in the grand scheme of British royalty, although that’s quite a low bar. Oh, but John, totally insufferable. I was supposed to tempt him into rebelling but the bastard was already scheming before I got there, and not very well mind you. Didn’t bother helping out when it failed, I didn’t really feel like getting involved.” 

“I accompanied Elizabeth here a few times. Very intelligent woman, difficult life though. Popped in every-so-often to lend her a helping hand. I remember tutoring her briefly when she was a child. Incredibly bright and kind for a child of her age. The crown hardened her considerably, but who could blame her.” 

“Oh yes, she was a feisty one. One of the few British royals I had any respect for at all, although she still had her fair share of flaws, but who am I to judge?” 

They continued to eat, somehow always remaining in the shade despite the passing of hours. Aziraphale was usually quite silent when he ate, his mouth constantly full with the next delight Crowley had packed away into the wicker basket, so Crowley took it upon himself to fill the silence by recounting his many tales of Kenilworth and the events surrounding it, sprawled out on his side, one arm supporting his head. 

“You know the tennis balls had been my idea. I had meant it as an insult but I think Henry overreacted a little bit.”

Aziraphale paused his enjoyment of some shortcake, “At least we got a good play out of it.” 

“Fair enough. The old Bard never really bothered with historical accuracy but I didn’t mind with him. Made it better usually.” 

“I’d be inclined to agree.” 

Eventually Aziraphale had had his full and pulled out a book, leaning up against the Ash. Crowley moved closer, laying down beside him. 

“What are you reading?” 

“The Anabasis of Alexander.”

“He was a drama queen.” 

“This is a classic.” 

“I’m sure.” 

Aziraphale ignored him and pulled out his reading glasses. Crowley had never said this out loud, but he loved Aziraphale’s reading glasses. The glasses were practically ancient, picked up sometime during Crowley’s respite in the 19th century. He didn’t need them, and Crowley didn’t know why he wore them. A fashion he had picked up? Perhaps he simply enjoyed the completion of his ‘old bookkeeper’ look? At any rate, Crowley never complained when Aziraphale opened a large tome and took out the spectacles. He looked up at Aziraphale; ‘Cute’ he thought. There that word was again. The glasses made Aziraphale look intelligent, sophisticated, extremely out of date, and certainly not cute. Or at least, that’s what Crowley thought (or did he?) 

“Read a bit for me. I’m sure it’ll put me right to sleep.”

The angel huffed at the minor insult but settled in closer to Crowley anyways. The demons head was up against his thigh, arms at his side and legs bent upwards. There was a gentle warm breeze and songbirds that flew in and out of the ash. The sun was bright and hot but they were cool and comfortable in the shade, both subconsciously leaning into the warmth of the other. 

“In Ecbatana, Alexander offered sacrifice according to his custom, for good fortune; and he celebrated a gymnastic and musical contest…”

Plas Newydd

They stayed the night in Kenilworth after allowing themselves the luxury of a lazy afternoon followed by a warm meal at a local pub (in this part of the country, most options for dining out were pubs). The next morning they took the Bentley further northwest, crossing the border into Wales. The signs changed into a jumble of consonants and seemingly misplaced vowels. 

“I haven’t been to Wales in so long. I adore the people here, very charming folks. I do hope my Welsh hasn’t fallen out of shape, it has been quite a while.” 

They drove down the old country roads, Crowley for once not doing nearly double the speed limit, perhaps as a courtesy to Aziraphale or maybe because even he couldn’t bring himself to disturb the sleepy atmosphere of the small villages they passed through (although the most likely cause was simply extending their time on the road. He enjoyed the peace and solitude he shared with Aziraphale while they rode in the Bentley.) 

Aziraphale looked quizzically down at the map they had picked up in Shrewsbury. “I believe you take a right up here, dear boy.”

“Hope you aren’t getting us lost in the Welsh countryside, angel. All these villages look the same to me.” 

He looked up from the map and up to the signs with arrows on the side of the road, “No, we’re still in the correct direction. My navigation skills were unparalleled back in the day, I’ll have you know. Served on a privateer ship for a number of months and guarded over an exhibition or two back in the age of explorers.”   

Crowley looked up at the signs, recognizing one of the names, “Off to Llangollen then, are we?” 

Aziraphale looked over to him surprised, “You’ve heard of it?” 

“Visited it to, a couple of centuries ago.” 

Aziraphale looked delighted, “So you must have met the ladies then! Can’t imagine what else would bring you to the north-eastern Welsh countryside. I never realized you made it out to see them.” 

“Yeah, I visited them a handful of times while traveling between London and Dublin. Eleanor and Sarah. Haven’t thought about them in quite a while. Kept hearing about them and got curious.” 

“They were a delightful pair, wonderful hosts too. Elenor and I would sit in the parlor and discuss the recent literature. Poets, in particular, seemed to be drawn to Plas Newydd and most had left behind a copy or two of their work. I recall walking around the estate with Sarah and exchanging thoughts on current events. They were both surprisingly insightful despite their isolation.” 

“Bit too fond of horses for my taste, but I could respect how they rebelled against the system. Caused quite a stir for a while, and I enjoy good gossip. The scandal, the outrage, pretty funny if you ask me. Had a few interesting chats with them over tea.”

 What Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t realize is that on multiple occasions, they had both shared details of each other to the ladies of Llangollen. Crowley and Aziraphale were both singular personalities in their own way and it had not taken much for the two ladies to connect the dots between both ‘men’ (or what both had assumed to be men) stories. Aziraphale had visited them first, introducing himself as a friend of William Wordsworth. He had indeed discussed literature and current events, but sometimes over dinner one evening he had begun disclosing certain details about a dark fellow (certainly not a friend) that Aziraphale was doing business with whom he had some conflicting emotions. Within a year, a dark fellow with bright red hair had strolled up to Plas Newydd and introduced himself as a friend of the Shelley's. They had welcomed him in, but he was much more reserved than some of their previous visitors. However, after a bottle of gin, the stranger was much more open and willing to share some strange stories of his travels. He was well journeyed and quite connected, having stories from famous scientists, authors, criminals, and even royals. After a bottle of brandy had been opened, he started talking about a friend of his, or perhaps more of a coworker. They had known each other for quite some time but in recent years it seemed as if their relationship had developed a few more layers. As he continued to describe the acquaintance, Eleanor and Sarah had both glanced sidelong at each other with the same realization. 

As the two beings came and went, bringing new stories and sharing new details of their other half, the glances between the two women while the otherworldly being relayed their most recent thoughts on the other become more frustrated and knowing. It had been difficult not to intervene but they had both known it was for the best. One day, Aziraphale (or simply “Mr. Fell”) had come to visit. He discussed literature and current events like usual but never seemed to bring up his mysterious coworker. When they asked him about it, his face contorted like he had eaten something sour. They had had a falling out and were not talking to each other at the moment. The two women looked at each other in concern but didn’t attempt to press the issue. 

They had never seen Crowley again. 

Crowley and Aziraphale pulled up to Plas Newydd a short time later. Both Aziraphale’s navigation skills and Welsh had thankfully remained intact despite the disuse. The house had been well maintained throughout the centuries. Crowley purchased admission for them both. It had been turned into a museum a number of years ago, but both of them weren’t focused on the exhibits, sparing only a pacing glance at the displaces and descriptive plaques. Instead, they took in the house itself and the memories that returned to them with each room that they passed through. As they strolled within the many rooms: bedrooms, parlour, kitchen, library, and outside of the estate in the vast gardens and green rolling fields, the two cast sidelong glances at each other, not unlike two Irish ladies from centuries ago. 

Hadrian’s Wall 

They continued north on the same day, stopping for lunch in the village before they resumed their journey. After lunch, before they set off onto country roads, Crowley thought they should pick up some more CD’s. They had burned through most of the ones he had brought in from the apartment, and he was starting to get sick of not only “Killer Queen” but also “Fantasia on Greensleeves”. There was a little music shop in the quaint downtown that sold a handful of instruments, some sheet music, a bin of records, and yes, an assortment of CDs. It was a shame Aziraphale never slept since he had been mostly unable to listen to some of his personal favorites as the other being would be awake for the duration of their car rides. Aziraphale had fallen behind the times recently. Back before the advent of recorded audio, Aziraphale had needed to go out into the world to enjoy music, which kept him fairly up to date with the trends. However, after the advent of recording, Aziraphale had been able to enjoy the pleasures of the symphony from his own home, able to read or eat while he enjoyed the sweet melodies. And so he stopped attending the opera, symphony, or any sort of concert almost entirely. He still got out occasionally, when they were playing Beethoven series or one of his favorite Italian operas, but after the 19th century he was pleased to simply keep returning to old favorites (certain notable examples exist. Aziraphale was a fan of Kafka, Vaughn Williams, Rachmaninoff, Ravel, Bartók, and a handful of others.) He had listened to some ragtime and bebop, but he hadn’t been a fan and had simply abandoned all popular music afterward. Crowley drifted through the aisles but was mostly with content to let Aziraphale pick out the music. He was mostly hovering through the classical section, already with half a dozen new CDs. He wandered through a few other sections before walking back over to Crowley. 

“Nothing for yourself?”

“You seem to have enough already.”

They walked over to the cashier, Aziraphale setting about all of the CDs and Crowley pulled out his wallet. The old woman behind the cash rung up their purchase and Crowley pulled out the exact change out of his wallet. She accepted it graciously. 

“And where are you two from? Don’t get many visitors this time of year.” She spoke with a thick Welsh accent but must have overheard them speaking in english. 

Aziraphale smiled warmly, “London. Just taking a bit of a holiday, driving around the countryside.” 

“Oh that’s lovely. I prefer the weather this time of year anyway. I like the heat, but in the summer, a bit too hot in recent years. My husband and I drove up to Edinburgh back in July to visit our Lizzie for her wedding. We used to travel all over Europe in the summer months. A bit more difficult after the kids but we were able to bring them along when they were a bit older.”

“Oh yes, Edinburgh has become quite lovely in recent years. It’s been quite a while since I’ve visited myself.” 

“Well if you and your husband are continuing north, I would definitely suggest you stop by.” 

Aziraphale went red at her assumption. He sputtered in response. “Oh, um, well yes, thank you for the suggestion.”

She gave him a wide smile, “No need to be embarrassed, dear. Our Lizzie was marrying her girlfriend, Mackenzie, up in Edinburgh. Most people in these parts are quite accepting.” 

Aziraphale could only redden and nod his head. She handed Crowley a receipt. 

“Diolch.” He replied coolly, face unreadable behind the tinted glasses. 

“Cael diwrnod braf!” She replied as they walked out of the shop. 

They were finally back off onto the road. Aziraphale pulled out one of the new CDs. 

“Look what I found, Crowley. I thought you might like it.”

It was a collection of William Herschel recorded by the London Mozart Players. Crowley returned with a neutral grunt of acknowledgment that didn’t convey any particularly positive or negative sentiments regarding the recording. Aziraphale ejected the previous CD and put in the new one. 

“So where are we off to next, angel?” 

“You know, I’m not quite sure. I thought we could just… drive for a bit, and see where we end up?”  

Crowley grinned, “Not your usual style, ‘going with the flow’, ‘seeing where the road takes you.’”

He shrugged in response, “I’ve been trying many new things these last few months.”

And so North they went, out of Wales, up through the West Midlands and into the North West. They continued to bypass the highways in favor of country roads. They drove along the Irish sea, passing by Liverpool, Southport, and Blackpool. At Lancaster, they continued due North towards Kendal instead of continuing along the shoreline. Crowley made most navigational decisions, simply following his intuition. Every so often he would ask Aziraphale for input, but mostly they drove in silence. The angel mostly watched out the window, every so often cracking open the book he had with him. 

After another hour or so, Aziraphale finally perked up.

“Ah.”

Crowley looked over to him, “What?”

He pointed to one of the signs. It read “Hadrian’s Wall” and had an arrow pointing right. 

“We should go there.” 

And so Crowley make a sharp turn to the right, and off they went. 

After only another 10 minutes (Crowley’s maniacal driving had returned in full force), the two found themselves at the base of about a 5ft 2000-year-old wall. 

“Sort of a dumb plan if you ask me.” 

“Hm?”

“Not sure what Hadrian was thinking with this one. Bloody long wall on the fringe of the empire, middle of nowhere? Always seemed like nonsense to me.”

“Perhaps.”

“Next guy pretty much completely abandoned it. Did it ever serve any useful role at any point? Not like it was ever that high in the first place, not sure what he thought he could stop with it. Humanity has found its way across rivers, mountains, and deserts, but oho, not a five-foot wall, that’ll stop ‘em.” 

Aziraphale was setting up his camera. The wall was surrounded by kilometers of green fields speckled with trees that were changing color in the autumn season. There was a small lake about a kilometer down from the stretch of the wall that the two had found themselves at. 

“Sit still, won’t you? You’ll blur the image.” 

Crowley pulled his crossed arms slightly closer in. “Don’t see why you wanted a picture in the first place. Can’t you just get a couple of snaps of the herons over there and be done with it?”

“I have so few photos of you, dear. I’d like a few from this vacation. I’ve had such a lovely time so far. Maybe I’ll make a scrapbook when we’re back in London. Have you heard of those? Came across the idea a few weeks ago and I’ve been meaning to try my hand at it.”

“Don’t see why I need to be in them. Why do you need a photo when I’ll be around anyway? I’ll just ruin your landscapes.”

Aziraphale looked up from the camera and directly at Crowley with a twinkle in his eyes. “You know I think you look positively lovely, dear boy. Now shut up, I want at least one good one.”

And shut up he did. 

Tynemouth Priory and Castle (Edward II and Piers Gaveston + Duel?) 

They found a little country inn in one of the nearby villages. Crowley slept soundly in his single bed while Aziraphale stayed up reading. They ate the continental breakfast that was provided, Aziraphale putting a fair portion of homemade strawberry jam that the owner’s son had apparently made onto his rolls while Crowley enjoyed his cup of Lady Grey. 

“I feel like going to the coast today,” Aziraphale said in between mouthfuls of toast. 

“Which one?” Crowley replied, leaning back in his chair on the outdoor patio. 

“How about the North Sea? We did the Irish Sea, the Celtic Sea seems like the next logical step.” 

“Anywhere in particular?”

“Have you ever been to Tynemouth? There’s an old Priory and Castle. I was there all the way back in the 7th century. Nice little spot on the coast.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been, later though. Briefly in the 14th century, with Edward II.” 

“Well?”

“Fine with me.” 

They left a bit later that morning, going towards the morning sun due East. It was starting to get a bit chillier as they stretched further into autumn and the closer they got to the sea. It wasn’t a long drive by, even without Crowley behind the wheel. Soft piano music that Crowley didn't recognize was coming out of the stereo. It was pleasant, music that sounded like it came right out of a 19th-century parlor. Aziraphale was humming along while he read (a new book, yet again. He seemed to burn through a new one each day.) 

They drove up a hill right beside the coast to the ruins. They were the only ones there when Crowley pulled the Bentley off to the side of the dirt road. They got out in tandem and walked toward the abandoned castle. 

“Long time since I've been around here. I wouldn't mind making a habit of these little excursions.”

“I guess it's not half bad when you avoid tourist season.” 

“You said you'd been here before?”

“Yup, I was briefly a part of Edward II entourage trying to rile up some tensions within the court. You ever meet him?” 

“Unfortunately, no.” 

“Eh, weren't missing much. He and Piers Gaveston had been inseparable. Bit annoying but mostly harmless. Tragic end, but that was pretty common for that lot back in the day.”

“Nobles?” 

Crowley laughed, “Not quite, angel.”

They walked through the main archway. It had obviously changed significantly throughout the centuries, the brick and mortar now exposed to the elements, large chunks were missing and covered in moss, and yet in some ways, it hadn't changed at all. All of the roofs had crumbled away centuries ago, leaving the bright blue sky above them, with clouds blowing in from over the sea and the sun creeping higher into the sky. Birds nested throughout the ruins in little nooks and crannies, perched atop old towers and in between the remnants of windows. 

“I had my fair share of adventures here as well,” Aziraphale remarked. 

“Oh really?” Crowley said playfully, grin on his face. Aziraphale enjoyed the frequency with which Crowley had smiled during the trip. 

“I did return once after the 7th century, mid 16ty century after it was taken over by Henry VIII. Got into a bit of a tiff with a few visiting Italians.”

“‘Bit of a tiff’? What'd you do, get into a heated argument about the marinara sauce?” 

“Don't mock me, old boy. No, we handled the affair like men.” He replied primly. 

Crowley turned to look at him, “You didn't duel them, did you?” 

Aziraphale blushed a little, “It's not my usual style but the situation quickly escalated.” 

Crowley laughed, and it echoed around them. “Did you win?” 

Aziraphale looked insulted, “Of course I won! I wasn't given a flaming sword for no reason.” 

“What was the argument?”

“I can't quite recall where it started but I believe it ended when he called me a son of a bitch and I replied with something along the lines of 'You dare refer to the Lord that way!?' and drew my sword.” 

Crowley gave him a wicked grin, “Would have liked to see that.”

“We should spar sometime. I may be a bit out of shape but I'm sure I could show you a thing or two.”

“Definitely not. I was always rubbish with weaponry. Never really bothered with it. Prefer using my wits, and when a sword was necessary I just got someone else to do it.”

“Maybe I could teach you?” 

The offer was left unanswered, the two naturally returning to a comfortable silence as they continued their exploration of the old castle and priory. It was an old place, humans had been occupying the land for 2000 years, and yet they were still much older. This castle had been in ruins for centuries, and they had been there before, during, and after. They did not feel old within the new metropolises that had popped up in the last century but in the ruins of the civilizations that they outlived by millennia. They were old, but they were old together, and now nothing was there to stop them from being so. 

“Shall we go home?” 

Home. Crowley liked the sound of that when Aziraphale said it. 

“Yeah, let's go.” 

Epilogue: Dover Castle 

They drove south along the coast. Aziraphale had gone through nearly all of the CDs he had acquired in Wales, except one.  

“Vera Lynn? Didn’t realize you were a fan.”

“She had such a lovely voice. They broadcast one her performances on BBC during the war and I bought a record the next day." 

“How modern of you.”

“This one apparently came out this year. I like the cover art. Technology is unbelievable nowadays, over 30 tracks on a single side of this tiny disc.” 

It was later in the afternoon now, Vera Lynn serenading the duo as rolling hills passed them on one side and choppy grey waves on the other. It had been a well-needed disruption in their daily routines, a literal and figurative breath of fresh air. If Crowley was being honest (which he rarely was with himself) he enjoyed spending all this time with Aziraphale. The angel had allowed himself to enjoy their vacation much more openly, but Crowley had enjoyed it too, in his own way. He was old, which he did not care to admit. Humanity had aged him. 6000 years in the pits of hell was nothing, but 6000 years amongst billions of the busiest and most diverse animals on the planet had a way of reminding your how ancient you truly are. Most humans believed that the earth was billions of years old, and that was a length of time that Crowley did not care to imagine. Revisiting all of these old castles and villages reminded him just how much he had experienced already, so much more than any person could imagine, longer than any given human civilization. Up until now, the future had been finite, but now, thinking about all that he could still experience here on earth with seemingly no expiration date was equal parts exciting and terrifying. He looked over at the angel. He kept doing that throughout the trip. Glancing over at Aziraphale in the passenger seat, either reading a book or looking out at the scenery and on one extremely treasured stretch of the drive when he closed his eyes and ‘slept’ (Crowley doubted he had been completely successful in his attempt but it was a marvel to behold regardless.) How many more vacations would they have? How far would they go? The anxiety that had hovered over their previous encounters still loomed slightly, but it was quickly fading with each passing month. Where would they be in a year? He was nervous, terrified even. But looking over at the angel, the knot in his stomach seemed to disentangle itself slowly but surely. 

Aziraphale’s thoughts were significantly less deep. He was extremely happy with how the vacation had shaped up and was excited to plan out the next. He was still ready to be back home in his bookshop, he could only handle so much excitement and travel, but it had been energizing and thrilling in its own way. This trip had reminded him why he had settled in England. For all its flaws (notably the weather. Crowley would have also said the politics but Aziraphale didn’t make a habit of keeping up with current affairs), it was a beautiful country filled with kind and well-intentioned people. And had produced its fair share of good music. He had not listened to Vera Lynn in a while but somehow all those old tunes were still in his head as he hummed along watching the sun descend closer to the horizon. He saw a sign that said ‘London’ and when Crowley did not turn onto it, he looked over at the demon curiously. 

“Thought we’d make one more stop before heading back home. Just a bit further south.” 

Aziraphale was in no rush, so he made no objection. He slid back into his spot up against the window, head perched on his hand. They view slowly grew more and more populated, quaint villages into small towns and then again into cities. Aziraphale closed his eyes, just enjoying the music, enjoying the peace, enjoying Crowley. Even though he was not saying anything the demon's presence was so easily felt. He let himself soak up that feeling and they carried on. They crossed over the Thames and slowly returned to those quaint villages and green fields. The drive wasn’t very long (almost certainly to do with the incredibly dangerous speeds the Bentley had been driving at). They got out of the car and Aziraphale gazed upwards towards the imposing structure in front of them. It was well preserved, in a much better condition than the other castles they had visited. The main keep was surrounded by enormous walls on all sides. The castle itself stood upon a hill overlooking the English Channel. The sun was setting over the water far in the distance. Crowley hadn’t driven them up to the main castle, instead of off to the side closer to the rocky cliffs. 

“Dover Castle, the Key of England.”

Crowley got out off the car without turning it off so the music continued to pour out of the Bentley. Aziraphale followed, meeting Crowley who had walked around the car to his side. “Red Sails in the Sunset” faded out and familiar flute and string orchestra began to play. 

“They’ll be bluebirds over, the white cliffs of Dover.” 

Aziraphale began to blush, “Oh my dear, you didn't.” Except, when Aziraphale said ‘my dear’ the accent was not on the my and full of disbelief or frustration, but on the dear, and was not so much of an exclamation than a term of endearment, gentle and full of care. Crowley would never say it aloud, but he adored the way it sounded out of Aziraphale’s mouth, and especially since it was directed at him. He didn’t respond, instead, leaning against the angel watching the sunset over the castle, which he hoped was in of itself enough of an answer. 

Now it should be noted that ‘White Cliffs of Dover’ was that in fact included in the recording Aziraphale had purchased, but Crowley did not know that and imagined that it must be, and so there it was, just in time. The song (miraculously) matched up perfectly with the setting sun. Crowley (or maybe it had been Aziraphale. Both had slowly drifted into each other as night fell, hands brushing up against the others) slowly slipped his hand into that of his best friend. A quiet display of affection that meant so much as the stars began to emerge from the darkening the sky. 

“Tomorrow, just you wait and see.”    

[skysometric]

Catching Up: Retrush

Before working, before college, before even this blog, my earliest days on the Internet were spent toying with a little fangame called Mari0, a mashup of Super Mario Bros. and Portal. It was my first time with a Mario level editor, and I made tons of mappacks – everything from traditional Mario levels to Portal-style puzzles, and even a mappack where Mario can't jump. My latest project, Retrush, is a speedrunning mappack where you have a limited amount of time to get from checkpoint to checkpoint, and I'm really proud of how it's coming along!

However, I started work on it in 2014... and five years later, the mappack is still not finished. What gives?

First, a little context. Retrush started out as a tileset demo of sorts, to see what kinds of levels I could make with just the tiles from the original SMB, but with tons of different color palettes for each tile (also all from SMB). I had no shortage of ideas – a fiery cavern, a train chase, an abandoned aquarium – and the "hook" of having limited time for each section of the level was a lot of fun! So I decided to make twelve levels, which I thought was plenty of levels to play without being too overboard to work on. College slowed my output on this considerably, but even still, I had ten of the twelve levels finished within a year or so.

As I was starting to wrap things up (I even sent out a beta to several people), I had an idea: what if there were extra challenges for each level after you finish? Say, scouting the level for red coins or having to beat the whole level in one run (no deaths). It was supposed to be a quick way to add extra content for people who wanted more to do.

But like all things I make, it spiraled out of control, and became Red Coin Remixes. Each level still has the same layout, but all the enemies and obstacles are rearranged, and the challenge is increased. Even the color palettes are changed, so now the fiery cavern becomes an icy one, the aquarium becomes a chemical plant, and so on. Rather than a quick way to re-use content, it effectively means there are twice as many levels to make!

And then, in the process of making the remix levels, I got an itch to make some more levels from scratch. It's hard to pass up on the idea of a desert level with a shimmering, hazy sky whose remix is a seabed with shimmering refracted light. I decided to make four more to round out the level count, which is actually eight more levels including the remixes...

And that's the story of how I went from 12 levels to 32 levels.

That said, it has been five years. You'd think I would be close to done with them by now. And I am! At the time of this writing, twenty levels are completed (or mostly completed), six levels are in progress, and the other six haven't been started for various reasons. I've made a bunch of animated tiles and backgrounds, tons of custom enemies including an Unagi with custom graphics (my first pixel art!), and systems for keeping track of Red Coins collected and resetting them on death (which do not exist directly in Mari0).

Obviously, progress has been slow because of mental health issues and working full-time. But even with that, I'm fairly certain I could finish all the levels and polish everything up with two or three months of focused effort. The reason I haven't finished Retrush isn’t really about the number of levels, or the graphics, or the polish, or even being an adult.

The reason... is music!

At first, I had no idea what music I wanted to add to the mappack. I tried using music from Kirby Canvas Curse, but I couldn't find good tracks for some of the levels. Once I added the Red Coin Remixes, all pretense of finding a fitting soundtrack was out the window. I need a song for every level in the game, with tracks that fit both the original level and the remix – and frankly, that's not happening. So I took the only logical course of action and decided to compose my own soundtrack.

I've kept quiet about this for a while, partly because I wanted it to be a surprise, but mostly because I didn't know whether I would actually follow through with it. I've always wanted to make music, but this is my first time doing so, and it's for a [checks notes] 30+ track OST. That's a lot even for a seasoned composer! Eventually I realized that, in my mind, Retrush would be incomplete without an original soundtrack. So, whether or not I actually can do this, I have committed myself to trying.

I was hoping to have something to show before I actually announced this, but frankly, this is the biggest stonewall in Retrush's development by far. Due to working full-time and struggling to learn Famitracker and music theory, I only have a handful of tracks in various states of completion, all from two years ago. I've felt like there's some aspect of composition that I haven't picked up on, and once I "get it" I'll finally hit the ground running... but that's simply not how real life works, and in the meantime the rest of the mappack is languishing.

You might be wondering, "why are you doing this to yourself?" The answer is that, before I started working full-time, it seemed within my reach. Now, I don't have the energy to push myself that hard – to make something so big while learning how to do it along the way. I've done this before with other things, which is why I continue to aim that high so frequently... but I don't know if I can at this point in my life, as much as I want to.

Regardless, Retrush is still one of my most important projects on deck, and I still intend to finish it at some point... with or without music.

[mahou-furbies]

I recently reblogged that one post where someone redrew their old oc. I thought about the same, but I don’t really have many (I mostly drew animals, pokemon and other creatures as a kid). But I did venture to the depths of my 13-year-old deviantArt gallery to see what I could find. So now it’s time for a cringe compilation on some teen’s artwork! Or so I thought, but the depressing fact is that I found a lot of stuff in my old work that I could learn a thing or two from...

Overall this post is just a place for me to get a chance to talk about older drawings nobody looks at any more so good luck to those who intend to proceed to readmore.

(2006)

There were some unkind discoveries in my tour to the past when I noticed how I had stagnated on some areas (and sometimes it even feels like regression), but it is comforting to see that there has been some development too. But seriously that is some ow the edge design right there. If you ever think about edgy deviantArt ocs you should know that I was there too. 

(The angel chick looks kinda dull in comparison...)

(2007)

I did some couple dozen chibis on characters I knew (though not necessarily too well apparently, I’ve never played Disgaea). I find the poses and expressions on some of these fascinating, like nowadays I feel it’s much more common for me to draw just a generic standing pose. With this and many of the other older drawings there are some fun and expressive ideas that were beyond my ability to execute properly, but apparently I didn’t let it stop me. Now it’s more like that if something seems too difficult for me to draw I won’t even try, but back then I drew it anyway. I probably should put some effort into trying to get back to that mindset.

Part 1 & Part 2 on dA

(2009)

I have no idea how I’ve been able to create this one because the light effect. And this is drawn with Copic markers! In traditional media! So I had to get it right on the first try! And since Copics are expensive I had very limited resources!

The girls are unnamed ocs, the one on the right is the everygirl and the other one is her friend from some alternate fantasy world that changed according to the everygirl’s wishes (so it was like her imaginary world).

(2011) 

This is Beta, the only oc of any substance I’ve ever had (aside from the FuwaFuwa gang I guess). She had such a grand story that it never got anywhere, but I sometimes posted drawings of her that didn’t mean anything to anyone else since her story was only in my head. I really like that winter outfit, the web is a fun design idea even if it looks like it’d get stuck on every bush branch on your way. The pic of her trying to put on a hood pisses me off because I have a feeling that if I tried to draw that today it would look worse. Maybe I should take my own advice from three paragraphs ago and try a redraw anyway

(More pics of her outfits and hair: Clothes 1, clothes 2 & hair on dA)

I also found a winter themed drawing of her which looks like an early FuwaFuwa precure.

(2012) 

I’ve always liked style parodies and apparently I did 44 of Beta. I remember that white hair was kind of an unfortunate choice since it made colouring highlights impossible. The Precure ones looked decent enough that I think I’ll give them their own post.

(These are Sugar Sugar Rune, Utena & Trinity Blood)

all 44 on dA

(2013) 

At some point I drew a lot of stuff for a Disney Princess Pokemon au, and while it has now been overthrown by Attack on Titan and magical girls I’d love to get back to it one day. Art-wise some of the best and most ambitious stuff I’ve ever done is from this au, and the first drawing on this list (that’s Merida) is one of my favourites. Granted it was done with a how-to-draw-rain tutorial so the colour palette is copied, so it’s always felt like I can’t really take proper credit of the result, but the concept and execution are still mine.

I’ve always liked ‘cluttered room’ type drawings, and I even submitted an idea for a Precure themed one for a zine. It didn’t get chosen, but I still want to draw it one day. Like, right now this instant, as if I didn’t already have enough on my to-do list.

The last one was abandoned because I didn’t know how to get the colours right for a warm sunset vibe. Shame really because there’s a lot of fun stuff going on there.

full size on dA: #2 & #3

[aaronleong]

Cole Haan ZEROGRAND Competition

I had the occasion of participating in a contest organised by footwear brand Cole Haan, held in conjunction with Raffles College. Through this competition, students were given the task of creating promotional material incorporating the brand’s latest ZERØGRAND Stitchlite sneaker. Marketed as a gender neutral sneaker, the shoe is targeted towards young, urban professionals who demands comfort and versatility in their lifestyles. 

My planning for the contest revolved around the ZERØGRAND tagline, “Inspired by progress, created to break limits.” Originally, my primary idea was to utilise the concept of rooftops, as seen in sneaker photography. While being a literal idea of “breaking limits”, I unfortunately had to abandon the ambitious idea due to the huge risks of trespassing into private property and falling to a premature death from a height. 

Looking back, giving up that idea was actually a blessing in disguise. As I did more scouting for photography spots, I was able to discover more locations around the city that could serve as an ideal backdrop for my photography. After a long shortlist and much consideration, I finalised on the corridor at Paragon and the Marina Square rooftop. Part of the fun in this contest was creating mood boards for each of the locations and I was able to discover unique ideas as a result. 

mood board for corridor @ paragon - lines and symmetry, a play on shadows enables the ZERØGRAND sneakers to stand out in a muted environment

mood board for marina square rooftop - white and fresh walls and the interesting layout of the rooftop presents an opportunity to highlight the coloured sneakers 

I was extremely grateful to have 3 friends who were willing to assist me in this competition, whether was it by modelling the sneakers or loaning photography equipment. I anticipated the photoshoot, even creating additional mood boards with the model’s outfits in mind. While I presented the two models with their respective boards, I gave them freedom to pick their clothing based on the moods, keeping in mind that I don’t know their wardrobes like they do. 

business casual @ paragon - i desired to keep the model dressed simple yet chic, keeping in mind that the outfit needed to stand out in a toned down environment but yet not too loud, overpowering the sneakers. 

pastels and colours @ marina square - i envisioned that a pop of colour will do the trick against the stark white walls on the rooftop and planned for a pastel palette. 

The photoshoot day finally arrived on Saturday and the weather looked promising, with the forecast predicting sunny skies for the afternoon. The corridor at Paragon was up first at 3 PM and the lighting looked good based on several test shots that I did. However, I was in for a disappointment when the model showed up in a totally different outfit than expected. The dress worn was more traditional wear compared to business casual and sadly, the dark green colour did not match with the sneakers. Irregardless, I did my best to shoot but around 10 minutes into the shoot, I noticed that the sun in the sky was moving in position and the dramatic shadows cast were no longer present at the corridor. I had no choice but to call it a wrap at Paragon to avoid wasting my friends’ time. I managed to get one or two decent photos so I decided to work with that I had. 

final edit for paragon 

It was late afternoon by the time I got to Marina Square and having at most 2 hours of sunlight left. The location was more of fire exit than a rooftop, uniquely designed so that it resembled a maze from bird’s eye view. Unfortunately, the model chose to wore a white and black outfit which did not impress against the walls of the maze.  I had difficulty getting a good picture due to the lack of colours present. Changing spots, we managed to get better shots on the rooftop which was located one floor above the maze. 

final edit for marina square

Despite setbacks involved, this competition photoshoot would not have been possible without the help of my dear friends, to whom I’m truly thankful for. I was able to experience a little of what it was like to be a creative director and make prompt decisions, working with what I had instead of complaining and putting the blame on anything and everything. 

[milesgaylsprower]

Drawn to You

This is a Pixel/Tablet fic for Graffiti Kingdom. I’ve been sitting on chapter 1 for a while but I’m hoping that, by posting it, it’ll get me to actually work on writing it. You can read it on AO3 or below the cut:

Chapter 1: Stirrings

“Well, I am a demon.”

Pixel wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point, that phrase had gone from being an excuse to being something of an inside joke between friends.

He wasn’t sure when they had gone from being rivals to being friends either. But here they were, lying on a hill in the Canvas Plains, their bodies outstretched in opposite directions and their heads next to each other. His companion was Tablet, the former prince of the demons. Overhead, cotton ball clouds drifted through the sky, each one having a unique shape that the two boys had spent all afternoon identifying. In a different world and a different time, it would have been strange – taboo even – for a human and a demon to be friends. But this is how the world was now, how it had been for… How long?

Three years, thought Pixel. It had been three years since Pixel had accidentally released the ruler of the demons, Medium, from the seal that had imprisoned him for centuries. Throughout Pixel’s journey to undo his mistake (or get out of undoing his mistake, as it were), Tablet was there, being a general nuisance and a total creep.

When exactly did I start being friends with this weirdo?

It had to have been after Pixel defeated Medium, since that’s when everything started to change. Demons started to integrate into human society not long after Pixel’s victory, an idea that was not well received by every human. Eventually humans learned to see demons less as a threat and more as inhabitants of the town. The only demon who hadn’t learned to cope with the change was, not surprisingly, Medium. His continuous efforts to reestablish the demon kingdom lessened over time as Pixel time and again foiled the Devil’s plans.

Tablet’s face suddenly filled Pixel’s vision. “Are you even paying attention to me?” Tablet asked. “That is so rude, I thought we were friends.”

Pixel couldn’t help but snicker a bit. “Sorry. Guess I had my head up in the clouds.”

Tablet laid on his stomach and propped his head up with his hands. “I did not think that last cloud looked like you.”

Pixel laughed even more, which earned him a bit of a stern look from Tablet. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… I was thinking about something.”

“Oh, I see. What were you thinking about?” Tablet asked.

Pixel sat up and spun around to face his friend. “I was thinking of when we became friends.” Pixel gathered up a handful of grass and started letting the blades go one by one.

“Hmm, as I seem to recall, we became friends shortly before my sister killed me,” Tablet said.

Pixel winced a bit. “Okay, first of all, your sister didn’t really kill you.”

“A mere deception on my part,” Tablet said with a tiny shrug. “We demons accept deception as the way things are.”

Pixel clenched his fist, crushing the grass that remained in his hand. Even though Tablet hadn’t truly been killed by Palette, the memory stung Pixel deep down. It wasn’t even the deception that bothered him; he could forgive that. Watching Tablet fade away was hard, though. Harder than it should have been. Now that they were closer, it only hurt more to think about it, and that bothered Pixel in ways that he would never admit.

“And second of all,” Pixel said, “that was just you demanding to be my friend.” Before Tablet could protest, Pixel added, “What I’m talking about is… When did things to get to be like this?”

“Does it really matter?” Tablet asked. He smiled warmly at Pixel, his hair swaying in the warm breeze.

Pixel’s stomach was instantly filled with the sensation of butterflies. “Eh, I guess not,” he said. But it did matter because what he was feeling now was… Disgusting. This was the crux of Pixel’s problem: he wasn’t sure when, but at some point, somehow, someway, he had gone from feeling friendship for Tablet to feeling…

Pixel abruptly stood up and said, “Come on, let’s go back to the castle. If we don’t, Pastel will probably have an even bigger lecture in store for me than her usual.”

Tablet nodded and stood up as well. “Very well,” Tablet said, smoothing out the long scarf that he wore. “We would not want to deprive Pastel of her favorite activity, would we?”

 And, of course, Pastel had a lecture ready for Pixel as he strode into his room.

“Pixel, you’re the prince of the kingdom! You can’t keep skipping school like this!” Pastel said.

Even though she balanced out her fun moments with plenty of moments where she seemed determined to be as annoying as possible, Pastel was Pixel’s best friend. It was Pastel that introduced Pixel to the world of graffiti. It was Pastel who cheered (and sometimes berated) Pixel toward victory during his journey to free the kingdom from the clutches of Medium. And it was Pastel who Pixel always turned to when he needed counsel. She was three years his elder (give or take a millennium, Pixel guessed) and a skilled graffitician. Her skill with a graffiti wand was matched only by her skill at nagging.

Pixel waved his hand as he walked past Pastel. “Ah, come on Pastel, it’s not that big of a deal!” Muttering under his breath, Pixel added, “Not like I care about what that teacher has to say anyway.”

“It is a big deal though. What are you going to do when it’s time to ascend to the throne and you don’t know the first thing about making a law? Or the history of your kingdom?”

“Pastel, that’s so far away, it won’t matter for a while.”

Pastel started to say something more, but Pixel tuned it out and flopped unceremoniously onto his bed. These lectures were more of a routine for the two friends than anything else. Though at one time they had been conducted with earnest concern, like everything else, somewhere along the way it had changed. Pastel knew that Pixel would stop listening at some point and Pixel knew that Pastel would finish what she wanted to say eventually and give up, which she would punctuate with a sigh.

Sure enough, after her tirade was over, Pastel exhaled sharply. “Where were you anyway?”

“Hanging out with Tablet.”

“Again?” Pastel was silent for a moment. “It seems like you two spend a lot of time together these days.”

“He’s fun to hang out with.”

“I didn’t think you liked him that much.”

Pixel felt his stomach twist into knots. Disgusting, Pixel thought, the word echoing in his mind, each reverberation becoming louder. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The words tumbled out of his mouth with more venom than he had expected them to have, catching both Pixel and Pastel off-guard.

Pastel blinked a bit. “N-nothing, nothing at all. I just thought… you thought he was weird.”

“He is weird. He is such a weirdo, but he’s also my friend.” Pixel thought for a moment of opening up, telling Pastel that he wanted Tablet to be so much more, but his stomach twisted tighter and he abandoned that idea. “Besides, hanging out with him is more fun that whatever boring lesson I’ve got to sit through.”

Pastel sighed. “Your job as the prince of this realm is important. People are going to look to you for leadership and protection. I’ll admit you have the protection thing down pretty well, but…”

“Pastel, you make it sound like it’s the hardest thing in the world. It can’t be that bad! All my parents do is sit there all day, and it’s not like they even care about where I am or what I’m doing.”

Pixel had a point there. His parents were lenient — perhaps too lenient — with their son. They were calm people in general, but when it came to Pixel their patience seemed to be limitless. Their expectations of him couldn’t have seemed more nonexistent. Maybe they were partly to blame for Pixel’s laziness, but at the same time Pastel at least hoped that Pixel would show some initiative on his own. Even during Medium’s take over three years ago, when circumstances were dire, Pixel had proven to be a difficult person to motivate. At the end of the day, Pixel was a boy who did things by his own schedule, and if your item wasn’t on his agenda for the day, he wasn’t going to get to it.

While Pastel sat quietly and wondered how to get the crown prince to have more interest in actually being the prince, Pixel had turned his attention elsewhere. He idly waved his graffiti wand through the air, drawing out random patterns and shapes. As soon as they would materialize, he would dematerialize them just as quickly, only to start over on something new.

Pastel huffed when she saw this. “Pixel, the graffiti wand is an important tool! It’s not for doodling!” This comment earned no reaction from Pixel. “Maybe you and I should start training more.”

Pixel sat up, and the shape he had been drawing suddenly materialized and dropped beside him onto the bed. “Training?! What for?”

“Well, if you’re going to be a graffitician, you might as well hone your skills.”

Pixel scratched his head. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Pastel, but my skills have been more than enough to keep Medium in check.”

“But, but… there’s so much more to being a graffitician! It’s not just drawing things and using them to fight, you know!”

Pixel shrugged. “But it’s all I’ve ever needed. Why bother with learning something new when I’m not going to need to use it?”

Pastel shook her head; her patience had reached its limit. “Forget about it. I’m not going to try to keep wasting my time like this.” She turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Stupid Pixel, she thought. She normally didn’t react like this to Pixel’s indifference, but the fact that he was getting so close to Tablet had set her on edge. She knew she couldn’t tell him about everything that had happened in the past, but she also felt like she was betraying him by leaving him in the dark. As uncomfortable as the war had been, she knew that one day all the details would spill out, and her friend would learn the truth about everything that had happened. How exactly would he react when he learned about where she had failed, when he learned about what Tablet had done? Her thoughts were interrupted when a familiar voice called to her.

“Hello, Pastel.”

Speak of the devil, Pastel thought. Or at least speak of his son.

His arms were folded and he was leaning against the wall. “Are you finished lecturing the prince?”

“No, I- wait, what do you mean lecturing? Ugh, is that what he calls it?”

Tablet laughed. “He calls it many things. If you are done with him though, I think I may go see him myself.”

“Look, Tablet. Just… promise you’ll be careful with him.”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

Pastel rubbed her arm a bit. “I don’t want to see him getting hurt. Not like… you know…”

Tablet’s eyes narrowed. “Like who, Pastel?”

Her lips moved as she tried to say a name, but the sound was lodged in her throat. Despite this, Tablet knew exactly what she had said.

“This is nothing like that! Why do you insist on keeping the past alive when it’s over with?”

“Over with? Pixel has been dealing with the aftermath of what your father did for three years now! Maybe you two are friends now, but how long is that going to last? How long before you betray him to help the demons?”

Tablet’s voice was usually level no matter what was going on, but now he found himself getting louder. “Do not accuse me of betrayal! I was doing what I needed to do. Everyone knew whose side I was on!”

Tears had started to drop down Pastel’s face. She hated remembering the past and she hated discussing it even more. Their heated debate had attracted the attention of several guards who looked ready to pounce on Tablet, but Pastel had no intention of letting things get that far. “He thought he knew whose side you were on, but I guess he was wrong,” she said in a low voice. “Don’t ever do that to Pixel. If you do, I will make sure that you are completely erased from this world.” She took off running down the hall, not even looking to see Tablet’s reaction.

Tablet grumbled and, after shooting a glare at the watching guards, made his way for the castle exit.

 Night had fallen on the kingdom and almost everyone was getting ready for sleep. Deep in the tunnels beneath the village, however, Medium paced about restlessly. In one of his hands he clutched an old book, its cover too faded to be read. The paper was tattered and yellow, and the paint used for the illustrations was chipping. He thumbed through the pages, sometimes turning them too hard and tearing them even more.

“The answer has to be here!” he said.

The book was one of the oldest books in the castle library and detailed the events of the original Graffiti War. He had pilfered the book, which earned the wrath of several guards, but the information in this book was well worth the price. Or so he had hoped. Unsatisfied with the contents of the page he was currently on, he roared out in frustration and slammed the book against the tunnel wall. A few pages scattered, and what remained bound to the spine was laying open on the dirt.

“Every time I try something, I’m always stopped by that boy. Look at me, the great Devil, reduced to this! And it seems to me like my servants don’t even care, like they’re actually happy to live among the humans! Even my dear, sweet Palette is eating out of their hands…”

And then there was his son. Tablet’s betrayal still aroused an anger in him that was almost matched by his hatred for Pixel. Part of him couldn’t help but be proud, in a way. After all, it was in the nature of demons to deceive, and Tablet’s deception had proven to be a fine piece of work, even going so far as to fool the boy. He learned after the fact that the two had fought, and that Pixel had soundly defeated Tablet. Instead of the whole affair ending with bitterness over the deceit though, they shared a moment laughing together, and that’s what Medium hated the most. His own son, the would-be heir to the demon realm, befriending a human, the very human who was responsible for preventing the rise of the demons.

Ah, but you shouldn’t be surprised, Medium thought. After all, it’s just like… Well, no. The first time, things were different.

Having calmed down a bit, Medium went over to the book and stooped down to pick it up. He lifted it up to see what page it had landed on, and immediately the meticulously painted images on it caught his eye. They depicted events that were very familiar to him. In fact, he knew this scene by heart; he had, after all, seen it with his own eyes. It was when humans pleaded with the gods for a way to defeat Medium and his demons as they razed the lands. After countless bloody battles that often ended with humans as the clear losers, humanity turned to the gods as a last resort. The gods answered their plea by bestowing several humans with the power of graffiti.

Suddenly, an idea formed in Medium’s mind. “Yes. Yes! That’s it! It’s perfect!” Medium bellowed out in laughter. “Why didn’t I think of that before?”

It seemed so obvious. A way to conquer humanity once and for all, without the interference of that detestable boy or any other so-called graffiticians. All he needed would be one thing.

“Yes, yes, this will work. As long as I can get there fast enough, even the boy won’t be able to stop me.” Medium tore the page out of the book and slinked off into the darkness, eager to set his plan into motion.

 Pixel yawned as he pulled back the sheets to his bed.

A familiar voice called from his room’s balcony. “Going to bed so soon?”

Pixel jumped and spun around to meet the source of the voice. “Tablet! Ugh, how many times have I told you about coming up here like that?”

“If I surprised you, I am sorry. That was not my intention.” Tablet smiled.

Pixel’s stomach was overtaken by the sensation of butterflies again. “Yeah, well, stop doing that. What are you doing up here anyway?”

“I wanted to know if we’d be hanging out tomorrow.”

Pixel raised an eyebrow. “You came all the way up here, at this time, just to ask me that?” He crossed the room to where Tablet was standing.

Tablet chuckled a little. “Well, maybe I wanted to see you again.”

Pixel swallowed hard and looked into Tablet’s eyes. He wanted so badly to move closer to Tablet, to throw his arms around him. The space between them simultaneously felt too large and too small and Pixel felt torn between his desires to either close the distance or increase it. If he was too forward, he’d lose Tablet, and if he was too cold, he’d also lose Tablet. His mind screamed at him that it was wrong to be attracted to Tablet, but his heart screamed back just at hard that he wanted to be close to Tablet.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I’m weird?” Tablet asked, finally breaking the silence between them.

Pixel blinked a bit and took a step back. “Sorry. Uh, yeah, we’ll hang out tomorrow. Want to meet at the usual place?”

Tablet nodded. “But of course. I hope you sleep well, Pixel.”

Pixel took a few steps back into his room and took a hold of the balcony door. Tablet’s words warmed Pixel deep inside, though he made every effort to hide that. “Yeah, thanks.” He started to shut the door, but stopped himself. “Oh, and Tablet?”

“Yes, Pixel?”

“Stop being so weird.”

Tablet beamed and said, “Never.” With that, he back flipped off the balcony and down to a rooftop below, where he’d surely continue his overly acrobatic route out of town.

Pixel shut the door, trying his hardest to ignore the fluttering in his chest and the protests in his mind. It had been months since he had started feeling like this and to his dismay nothing had changed. If anything, the feelings had intensified.

Why couldn’t I have been attracted to Pastel instead, Pixel wondered as he climbed into bed and pulled the covers up around him.

Then again, what’s so wrong with liking Tablet? Pixel laughed a bit at the obvious answer.

“Well, he is a demon.”

[njcklenjart]

something wild 3/6

Summary: The locals speak of a monster and Newt’s all too ready to investigate.

A/N: I based the villagers off of the Dinka people of South Sudan if anyone’s interested. This story is on FF and AO3 if anyone prefers those sites.

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The locals don’t allow the girl to leave her hut. They strike down Newt’s pleas when he asks, thinking she’ll destroy the entire village and bring a plague upon them if she does. It’s doubtful, but there’s no convincing them otherwise, not when he’s fallen from their graces for defending the girl so adamantly.

So he casts a disillusionment charm and, after she’s done examining where her body once was, eases the girl into the outside world.

It’s risky, but Newt’s found that there are some things worth disobedience. The villagers don’t attempt to keep an eye on her, assuming she remains in the hut day after day- contact is limited, her food merely slipped past her hut’s entrance- so, as long as they’re cautious, no one knows about their little adventure.

The girl takes to everything from the wet grass to the rough bark of a fallen tree. She digs her toes into the dirt and weeds, grips and pulls at the low branches, crushing the ripped leaves in her dirty fingers. Newt watches her explore, nodding and smiling when she shows him a jagged rock with a slurred word, offering the English equivalent.

He talks a great deal more around her than he has to anyone besides his creatures. He tells her about everything and nothing, of the simple things like the shade of the sky, describing the texture of his clothes, the smell of the trees around them; he tells her about his creatures, his family, about the world beyond the mud walls of her hut and the village’s borders.

He talks too much- at least he thinks he does. After so long of traveling with only his creatures to keep him company, he’s out of practice.

“There’s a lot of us- wizards I mean. Not as many as Muggles, but we exist. We hide right under their noses all over the world- it’s all a great big secret. I’ve been to many wizarding communities, but none of them compare to London.”

They travel further away from the village, away from the calls of working men and women and the groans of the cattle roaming at the border, the overgrown jungle folding over them and hiding the way they’d come and opening up to newer sights. Everything looks different and yet the same, the multiple hues of green having no contrast to one another in Newt’s eyes. The sun shines through the space between the leaves, dappling the ground and highlighting the dull browns of the dirt and trees into something more lively- a stark change to Britain’s bleak palette.

“That’s where I come from. England.” He wipes the sweat off his brow, glad he had abandoned his coats before starting the hike. “One of the best communities there is. You can find almost anything at Diagon Alley. It’s got everything a wizard needs- there’s Ollivander’s, Madam Malkin’s, and Gringotts- not to mention Slug and Jiggers.”

The girl doesn’t seem bothered by the insects wizzing about, but Newt’s grown tired of them. He casts a spell to ward them off, fully aware of the eyes on his wand as he tucks in back into his pocket.

“We also have a school in Scotland- Hogwarts it’s called. It’s the best wizarding school there is- not even Beauxbatons can compare. It’s one of the safest places you can be. I spent a few good years there when I was younger until I was-”

He stops.

There’s only so much he can say about the school. A secondhand description can’t compare to the actual sight of it; Newt doesn’t think he can accurately describe the wonder that is the ancient school, can’t adequately explain the way it felt to see the distant lights against the dark shape of the castle, to take those first steps into the Great Hall, or entering the Hufflepuff common room for the first time.

Meeting Leta, their days spent within each other’s company and the experiments, is what made Hogwarts a second home. It was there he’d found a friend, a confidant, someone who was an outcast like him interested in the same things as he and who would listen to his theories. He’d like to tell her about these memories, only they’d be tainted with bitterness at his expulsion.

What he says instead: “You’d like Hogwarts.”

The girl is looking at him now, her big, dark eyes ignoring the amazing view of antelopes bounding beyond the openings between the trees. He imagines she’s inquiring for more.

“I was, well… asked to leave my sixth year. It’s an old story and I’ve moved on.” He tries for a smile, but can’t seem to make it work. “I’m boring you with this, aren’t I? Should we continue on with our walk?”

She doesn’t answer and, for once, he wishes she would.

He starts forward, the little girl following close behind, hoping for a distraction, and he’s in luck. They find tracks in the dirt when they reach a less clustered part of the jungle and his excitement bleeds into her, spurring them into a hunt. It’s a game of sorts, one that keeps the girl’s attention and let’s Newt forget out his past.

“Erumpets generally stick to open plains, but they’ve been known to wander into Muggle settlements,” he explains, ducking under a low hanging branch. “That’s what I think these tracks are from- an Erumpet. Then again, Rhinos and Erumpets share similar footprints, so I might be mistaken.”

Sadly, he is. Their little expedition is fruitless when the tracks become too faint for him to distinguish, not even a hint of exploded trees to indicate the presence of the magical beast. Newt’s put out, more than a few days since he’s caught sight of anything magical out in the wild. He would’ve enjoyed a quick respite from the close mindedness of the Muggle villagers and of his unpleasant memories.

“Ah, well, sorry I couldn’t show you an Erumpet.” He checks his pocketwatch. “Best we head back before someone notices us gone.”

The girl wrings her hands together, looking at the nearest tree before glancing back at him. She doesn’t want to go back. It’s obvious. Newt refrains from reaching out or else scaring her way.

“We’ll go out again tomorrow. Promise.”

He leads them back in silence, the girl only a step behind. About a fourth of the way back to the village something brushes against his hand. Ignoring it is as an accidental brush from the trees, he continues looking at the dirt to his left. It happens again, and then again when he still doesn’t respond. He glances at his companion and finds her aptly observing the jungle.

He wonders for a moment before catching her skittering closer when the terrain allows it, her hand barely missing his in her attempt to maintain balance. She’s still not looking at him and Newt can’t help but smile to himself.

When they cross the small stream he takes her smaller hand in his own.

It becomes a habit- a rudimentary schedule that they keep to. They sneak out after the girl eats her minuscule portion of rice and return when the sun just begins to set, before her evening meal is delivered.

In the time between they explore the surrounding jungle and even the more open savanna where the trees dwindle and the horizon can be seen at every angle. It’s there, trudging through the thick underbrush, he hears it.

The girl starts, but Newt brings his finger to his lips, shushing her quietly. Once she settles down he takes her hand and slowly leads them forward until they’re crouched, hidden in the tall grass at the base of an Acacia tree. From there, Newt quickly pinpoints the creature and, very quietly, directs the girl’s attention to the branches far above them; he hears her soft exhale and knows she sees the fiery red that hides in the virescent leaves.

The Phoenix doesn’t notice them, continuing on with its serenade.

The second one responds in absolute harmony.

The last time he saw a Phoenix was when he’d climbed Kibo, but it had only been one. A pair this far down was a rare occurrence, one he would use to his advantage.

He hurriedly brings out his journal, not wanting to waste a second of observation. Even as he watches, what he presumes to be the male scoots closer and preens its mate. They begin to croon, a perfect duet, their song so melodic that even the most renowned orchestra would be put to shame.

“Fascinating!” he mutters to himself. He jots down his observations on their behavior patterns before turning to drawing the pair.

They fly off before he’s finished his sketch, just as he’s beginning to shade in the shadows of their wings, so he fills in the rest by memory. Looking it over, he decides it’s not his best work, but still doable. It’s well enough to be put in his manuscript with his other sketches if he so wishes.

He shows the girl his drawing and she makes something akin to a giggle, shaking her head.

Newt overexaggerates his offense.

“Think you can do better?” He rummages around his case for spare paper and, setting up his case as makeshift table, sets it in front of her impromptu. She takes his utensil, fascinated at the black that lingers on his fingertips, when he offers it to her.

“Go on,” he says. “Give it a try.”

She stares at the charcoal in her hand, then at the paper, coming to the conclusion quickly, and begins to draw (scribble, really). She peppers the paper with dots, testing out the waters, before dragging the charcoal across the page. After that, she moves to curves and circles, drawing loops that turn into helixes. When she’s done, she sits back and reviews her creation.

Newt turns the paper more toward him for a better look. It’s looks like a blotted mess to him, but he thinks he can see two round shapes that could be the Phoenixes, a point that made their beaks while swooping lines that are most likely the tails. “Brilliant.”

She offers it to him.

He keeps it with the rest of his notes, marking the date.

[rpchive]

120th Encounter-- The Starlit Song

An hour or so after returning to the IT, Collin steps into the console room to see if the others returned with the freed shadows from earlier. Maya is seated in the console room with the three former shadows and Azreldeh. Collin: I thought I'd find you guys here. So what's the story? Azreldeh: Well, with the mirror dimension gone, any curses tied to it were lifted, but also everything in that dimension had to go somewhere...

Maya: Seems like the population of this dimension doubled in an instant, but none of the reflections appeared anywhere near their counterparts. Since yours were already here, though, they weren't sent anywhere else... Collin: Well that's... awkward. So what do you guys think? You're gonna have to excuse me if I'm being kind of blunt, but I'm not exactly comfortable with just... letting them all move in. Maya: I mean, they're...right here. I guess they can decide to live wherever they want? We can take 'em where they wanna go, and from there it's not our problem anymore. Collin: That works for me if it works for you three.

SCollin: Your hospitality is first-rate, truly.

Collin: Look, I've got a lot on my mind right now. I'm just trying to get y'all somewhere nice where no one is going to mistake us for you three. SJay: ...It's fine. We shouldn't be here anyway. I don't care where you take us, just...anywhere is fine. Collin: I mean, give us some idea. The IT's got a lot of possibilities. Hot, cold, crowded, quiet?

SDaedalus: Somewhere that isn't so depressing and bleak would be a nice change of pace, so that should be a pretty easy requirement to meet.

Collin: ... Alright, I guess just touch down somewhere where there's a decent town or something? Maybe they'll help take them in or at least get them started.

He stops to think for a second before continuing. "Should we... give them some way to get a hold of us in case there's an emergency? I'd feel bad if we put them somewhere where they just wound up in danger again."

Maya: ...I don't know if the finished communicators we have work at a frequency that can cross time; space; and dimensions...

Azreldeh: Well, bring me one and I'll make it work out. We'll just need one to replace it with, but I'm sure XL and Rio are done by now... Collin: I left mine back in my room. Let me just... go get it real quick.

He hesitates partway through his words as he realizes what that means, but continues on. Without waiting for a response, he turns and heads back down the hall for his room.

He pushes open the door and steps inside, meeting Jay's stare as he turns to see who's coming inside. Collin briefly considers trying to say something to him but fails to come up with any words, instead breaking eye contact to turn toward his desk. He steps over and quickly picks up his communicator, then turns and heads back out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He takes a deep breath during his walk back to the console room, then gently tosses the device in Azreldeh's direction as he returns. "Heads up." Azreldeh catches the communicator, which crackles in her grip briefly as it glows a faint red for a second before she hands it off to Collin's reflection. "That should do it. Wherever you wind up, if you need us, we'll hear it. ...Assuming you call." SCollin: We'll... try to keep to ourselves for now. If we wind up getting stranded in a cave or some shit, you might wind up hearing from us soon. 'Course you could just ignore it...

SDaedalus: I don't think they would've bothered giving us something if that was their plan. Maya: I'll get this thing moving somewhere, then. In the meantime, I guess you can do what you want...just don't get into trouble, of course. SCollin: I'll try my best. Is that a kitchen over there? Maya: Yep. With any food you can think of; and plenty more you can't. SCollin: Oh thank fuck, some actual decent food. FaWKES didn't exactly have the most varied palette. If you'll excuse me...

SCollin casually hops up and heads inside the kitchen. A while later, Maya successfully lands the IT at an unfamiliar destination. Once the group determines their surroundings are safe, they part ways with the shadow counterparts, leaving the normal crew to their current devices. Collin: ... I do hope they'll be alright. It's gotta be hard after suddenly getting cut loose like that. Maya: ...I doubt they have much experience with nature or people. Any environment would be hard to adapt to. Still, without the overbearing sense of wickedness and without anyone forcing them to do things, I figure they're resourceful enough to figure things out on their own... Collin: And if things get too dicey, they could always just call us to bail them out of whatever trouble they've gotten into. I didn't want to leave them entirely stranded; I just... can't really focus on a lot right now. Azreldeh: No, I understand. I'm sure they would too...at least, to some degree. What're you gonna do...? You can't just avoid your room forever... Collin: I... don't know. I'll be honest, the way Jay is right now, he... scares me a little. It's like he's not even the same person, just some stranger saying he's my boyfriend. I don't know what to expect from him now. Maya: ...I don't think that's the case. I've seen cases like that before; abnormalities that replaced employees and walked around in their skin, or remotely controlled them like playthings, but this seems...different. The coldness in his voice; it doesn't sound like he's a different person, it sounds like he's distancing himself; but...it's not exclusively that...that's undoubtedly Jay himself, but it also feels unfamiliar, yet not caused by an outside force...I think something's changing...something's definitely wrong, we just don't know specifically what that could be... Collin: I'm not really sure if that's better or worse... Maya: What I'm trying to say is that he needs help. He might not be scared at all, but something terrible is happening to him, and all we've done is...get angry, or hide...somebody has to do something...whatever's happening is clearly something big. If we can't fix it, I don't know what will happen...nobody even bothered trying to get through to him when he started acting weird...did...did you leave him alone? Collin: I mean, he was in our room a bit ago when I went to get that communicator? Maya: But he was alone, wasn't he? Collin: Y-Yeah... I should probably go back, shouldn't I? Maya gets out of her chair and immediately starts going down the hallway. "...Why is nobody else-?!" Collin immediately hurries after her. "Well Demo is probably still out of it and Daedalus is... y'know..." Maya: That's his problem!! Jay is your saa! Jay is your saa!! He's your boyfriend; something is happening to him, and you just...!! You don't even understand what losing somebody feels like, do you?!

Barreling forward, Maya practically breaks the door down as she rams her weight into it on her way into the room.

"...JAY!!"

At the back of the room, Jay stands alone, a gate open to a vaguely familiar location behind him; a place looking similar to the cobalt dimension. As he turns to face the group, two things become apparent: the shell around his injured arm has cracked away completely, now revealing his magic, an electric shade of blue that shifts closer to teal on occasion; and that red markings have slowly begun to snake up the sides of his face, curvy things vaguely shaped like clouds. His eyes, more of a cloudy blue than the vibrant color they had been before, rest on no one in particular, as if him turning his attention to the noise was simply a formality.

"...Don't bother worrying now. Changing things after they matter doesn't change anything at all."

Leaving nobody time to respond, he steps through the gate, which closes behind him like water going down a drain, leaving the room in darkness. Collin looks as though he's about to be sick, stepping close enough to his desk to lean against it as he continues to stare at where his gate was. A few seconds later he finally manages to choke out a few shaky words. "Oh God... What's happening to him?" Maya stands in the doorway, her breathing heavy and ragged as a multitude of reactions race through her mind, each bubbling up like a volcano's reaction desperately attempting to win the race to the surface. Collapsing her weight against it, she begins to shake as she forces some form of response out. Her words carry an incredible amount of weight as she audibly chokes back either tears or anger. "...If we can't make somebody tell us what's happening, we're going to tear through their entire library if it means finding out ourselves. We can't let him go like this. We have to stop this now..." Collin: I... I don't... K-Karumet... We need to get Karumet back. Maybe she'll know what's happening to... Maya: ...I'll get us back to her. You just...do what you have to.

Shoving herself off the door facing, Maya leaves for the console room, leaving Collin alone. Collin shifts slightly and sits down on his desk, staring a hole into the floor in front of him. Tears well up in his eyes, although he fights them off for several minutes. Finally, just as he's about to reach his limit, he swears loudly and scatters everything on his desk to the floor. Spinning around, he charges out of the door and storms down the hall toward the pantheon's room. He throws their door open without hesitation, glaring at a very surprised Ezorius as he breathes out one demand through gritted teeth and burning eyes.

Collin: I need my magic back. Now. Some time later, the IT lands back in the place Lobotomy had once stood. Surprised, but not stunned, Karumet greets whoever comes to the door. Collin stands on the other side, more composed but strikingly more serious in his expression than normal. "We need your help. Jay's... changed. His magic color changed, he has strange red lines forming on his face, and his personality is... completely different. He abandoned us not too long ago and we have no idea what's going on. Can you help us?" Karumet's expression sours as she frowns for a moment in confusion.

"...His magic and personality changed...? Was he exhaling any?" Collin: Yeah, it was yellow at the time, but when he left his arm was blue. Do you know something, then? Karumet: ...His injured arm, the shell on it broke, didn't it? And it was blue, despite his own magic being yellow? And now all of his magic is blue...I haven't seen this since the war, I--...

Maya: Please, I really don't care about exposition, what the hell is wrong with him?! Just come out with it!!

Karumet: ...He's becoming shalvenn.

Collin: ... Fuck, fuck, fuck! Part of me kept thinking that was what was happening, but-... Nevermind. What do we do? Karumet: From what you've told me, it's unclear if he's sacrificing his mind or his body, but either way, it sounds like something's deteriorating...I don't think he'll wind up like Avarice, but...this is still in its early stages; despite how it looks, we can still turn this around. I'd compare his current state to being...lost in a fog, or something. It's hard to get out, but if you know what to do...

She seems to remember the original question at about this time.

"...The starlit song. It's the only thing any kleivenn's been able to do that saved a shalvenn. But it's been so long since the war, and I personally haven't heard it...but Nine might know..." Collin: Alright... Then we need to get to Kujaar. But even with the song, how're we going to find him? The place his gate was leading to, it looked the same as how it does inside his mind. But that's... not possible, right? Azreldeh: Weeeeellll...

Wringing her tail nervously, Azreldeh glances around as she starts to babble.

"With the mirror dimension gone, the demons inhabiting it needed to be relocated; but hell's a place reserved for devils; souls; familiars and the like; and the in between only has chaos agents; and well, we can't go to heaven, so...well, since we couldn't go topside, we needed somewhere else to go, and since Jay was trying to create a new dimension, and he technically had the structure for one, the agents of the in between must've...made...it...real?" Collin stares blankly for a second, then covers his face with his hands as he exhales slowly. "This is, unquestionably, a complete disaster. Do I even want to know how you know that?" Azreldeh: W-well, it's happened before is all...! But I wasn't around for that... Collin: That's a little crazy to think about. Anyway... Can you come back with us, Karumet? Or is there still stuff you need to take care of here? Karumet: I can come back. It seems like the people here are adjusting well enough, and nothing escaped Lobotomy, so I think things will be alright... Collin: We can always come back to check on things, or maybe the IT will just drag us back if something goes sideways. Regardless, it'll be good to have you back. I'm... sorry things aren't more like they usually are when we came back to get you, though. Karumet: Seriously? You're worried about how I feel? ...We need to figure out that song... Collin: Right. Let's get moving to Kujaar then. Hopefully Nine really does know about that song...

Returning to the IT, the group heads for Kujaar, where they find Nine in their usual location.

Nine: Nice t' see ya ag'n! Though, if yer here, I doubt it's fer a good reason; y'all never jus' visit... Collin: Sorry, it's just... always hectic. But you're right, it's not good news. Jay is turning shalvenn, and apparently the starlit song is the only thing that can help him now. Do you know it? Nine: ...Never a dull momen', 'uh...? I's been a while since I've seen a kleivenn that wasn' damaged b'yond help, so I migh' not remember it all...lessee...

Though the sun may rise, And the moon may fall; We're carrying on With our starlit song...

Through hardships, And friendships, We've gone through it all;

Ehh...somethin'....sentimental? What goes here...

Though the moon may rise, And the sun may fall; We'll keep carrying on With our starlit song... Collin: I don't mean to pressure you, but... you do remember it, right? Nine: Ehhhh, it was...what was it...?

Somethin', somethin'; The rise and the fall... Collin: Nine, you're killing me here. Nine: Hey, you remember somethin' after several thousands of years without needin' to!! Collin: I'm not even-!

He stops himself and closes his eyes for a second, forcing himself to try and slow down. "... Okay, I'm sorry. But if you don't know the song, then who does?" Nine: I's jus' the one line. I bet Holly'd know; she writes everythin' down. Collin: Speaking of that, I'm probably gonna need a copy of it too... So I just need to read it to him and he'll go back to normal? Nine: It ain't that easy. If a kleivenn's gone shalvenn, i's 'cause somethin' made 'em go against their drivin' wish real hard. Tha's what breaks 'em so badly; they see the thing they're made for as inherently wrong, an' if they don't wanna live for wha' they're made t' live for, then they ain't gonna live for it, no matter what that means for 'em. If you want him back, you gotta find out wha's wrong. The starlit song, it offers clarity; it cuts through wha's wrong and brings 'em back t' their senses, but in the end, yer th' only thing standin' between yer saa 'n whatever happens next.

as intense as this arc is I really do like just having this lore out here

Collin: But Jay's wish is... Oh God, what did I do...? Nine: Tha's jus' somethin' y' gotta ask 'im. Hurry t' Holly; I know you can reach out ta him. Collin: ... Okay. Thanks for your help, and... sorry for always being a downer.

He goes ahead and leaves Nine's room and heads for Holly's library. Holly is up at the receptionist desk, waiting for Iris to finish loading a cart full of books that need to be relocated. Blinking against the sunlight that filters in as Collin enters the library, Holly squints in his direction.

"...The human boy; Collin, wasn't it? You're back again...I take it there's another incident on your hands. You children are far too young to be shouldering so many burdens..." Collin: I'm starting to think you might be right. I... need the starlit song. Nine can't remember the whole thing, but they said you'd probably have it written down or something. Holly flashes a grim expression before climbing down from Iris' shoulder, Iris giving Collin a sympathetic look before shifting her attention to Holly, who is opening a cabinet behind the front desk. Pulling out a dusty scroll, she unfurls it atop the desk, revealing the aged Chariot upon it.

"Though the sun may rise, And the moon may fall; We're carrying on With our starlit song

Through hardships, And friendships, We've gone through it all;

The taken, The given, The rise and the fall;

Though the moon may rise, And the sun may fall; We'll keep carrying on With our starlit song.

I remember the lullaby all too well; a song passed down through generations to every scribe, sung throughout centuries to make its way to the unfortunate, lost souls that need it most. I pray you can make use of it well..."

this is just one of those random things I’ve sang in the shower a handful of times out of nowhere; but this one always came back with the same words for me

I’d sing it but I don’t think anyone’d want to hear it after knowing what it’s needed for

but first and foremost; it’s a kleivenn lullaby. it’s something everyone’s heard their entire lives, something sang for comfort, passed down throughout generations, and that’s what makes it so impactful

Collin: I really hope so. Would you mind copying that down on something I can take with me? And uh... that I can read? Iris: Oh, leave it to me! I'll have it written up in a minute! You just worry about finding out what to do next, okay? I'll bring it to your ship when I'm done. Seeing you off is the least I can do. Collin: Alright. Thanks for everything, you two. Holly: Anything we can do to help, we will. You just worry about yourselves, alright? Collin: It's hard to even think about anything else right now, honestly. Anyway, I'll be back at the IT.

He gives them a small wave and heads back for the others at the IT.

Iris reaches the IT with the starlit song's translation transcribed upon her paper of choosing. Seated coiled up at the door, she offers the note to Collin. "Be careful out there, okay? We'll all be here when you get back!"

Collin takes the copy from her and glances over it for a second. "Thanks Iris. Uh, one last thing, actually. Is this still going to work if I read it in English? If this only works in Chariot, I'm gonna need a pronunciation guide or something." Iris: As long as he can understand you, it should work. The words carry the magic of kleivenn as a whole, after all. Collin: Good to know. Hopefully things won't be so, uh, rough the next time we're here. Iris: Hopefully so! You haven't even had the chance to really explore Kujaar, after all... Collin: No kidding. Anyway, I- we don't really have time to waste. Take care, alright? Iris: You too! Collin gives a small wave and then heads back inside the IT with the others, reading the paper in his hands over and over again. Sitting at the console, Nydins turns around to face Collin. "...When do you want to try and find him?" Collin: The sooner, the better. I don't really know how long it's going to be before Jay...

His voice trails off for a second, unable to finish the thought. He quickly changes gears instead and continues. "I just need some time to try and memorize this as best as I can. I guess the real question is how long will it take to get to... whatever we wanna call that place Jay went?" Nydins: The IT can't track where he's gone; it can't recognize him in his current state; but it can track the demons from Azreldeh's district, and all of them are in the same dimension. I don't know entirely how long it'll take, but we'll probably be able to find him in the same day. Collin: It'll have to do. I'm gonna be in my room for a little bit so I can focus. Nydins: That's fine. I'll send someone to let you know when we've landed, then. Collin: Thanks. You guys know where to find me, then.

He heads down the hall for his room, occasionally glancing at the paper. [Meanwhile...] Daedalus continues pacing back and forth in his room as he has been for the past several minutes. Every so often, he pauses to fiddle with a tool or piece of material, but his fuming attitude prevents him from focusing on any specific thing for very long. Demo: ...Are you seriously that upset still? He only threw me... Daedalus: That's not the only thing he did...

he borrowed Demo’s powers! it’s something Jay’s never done before, but he’s always capable of. he just didn’t know he could do it. he could probably do that to anyone with magic tbh

but none of that really hurt her or anything, so idk why he’s so upset

Demo: ...I know, but...something's definitely wrong with him right now. I'm not sure what, but I can't hold it against him knowing something's happening... Daedalus: I know something's wrong with him, but...

He trails off for a second before finally letting out a frustrated growl and presses the heel of his palm in between his eyes.

"The fact that I can't even be mad at him for the shit he said back there just makes me even more mad." Demo: ...I know. You have every right to be. Regardless, he'll be sorry for everything he's doing now, like he always is...so don't stay too mad... Daedalus lets out a deep breath as he puts both hands down on a workbench and leans against it. "I'll... try my best. I make no promises if he keeps running his mouth the next time we see him, though." Demo: ...You're free to fight him, but if we have to...

Her voice trails off for a second.

"...If it really comes down to it...I'll be the one to...handle him..." Daedalus looks back over at Demo, raising an eyebrow in concern as he stands back upright. "Geez, I know he's kinda gone nutty but it can't be that bad, right?"

it isn’t a rapid process; Avarice was proof of that. she started the human-kleivenn war and she was still alive, just horrendously decayed; so realistically, no matter how far gone he was, Jay would still be himself to some degree for several decades

Demo: ...I don't know what's wrong, but...I really can't shake this feeling...he's definitely getting worse wherever he is... Daedalus walks over toward Demo, carefully putting one hand on her shoulder. "Look... We'll find him, knock some sense back into him, and get him back here safe and sound, alright? You guys have done it before, we can do it again." Demo: ...Right. We should probably get back out there, huh...? Daedalus: Probably, yeah. Maybe someone knows what's going on now. Seems like we're moving again, at the very least. The group readying to confront Jay slowly gathers in the console room. Rio and Paprika remain to keep Nydins company, while Maya; Karumet; Echo and Demo wait for Daedalus and Collin to be ready Soon enough, Daedalus steps into the console room to meet the others, followed shortly by Collin and Fawkes.

Fawkes: I hope you don't mind me tagging along. Collin told me what was happening when I ran into him earlier. Rio: The more the merrier, right? Though this...probably won't be very fun.

Paprika: Well, we'll just have to make it better when you bring Jay home, of course! Collin: That... sounds like a plan to me.

His attempt at trying to reciprocate their optimism falls somewhat flat due to the concern that he can't keep out of his expression. He fidgets with the collar of his robe as he waits for the IT to finally land. As the IT touches down, Demo is apprehensively the first to exit. The cobalt dimension remains in a similar state to before, however none of the cobalts themselves seem to be anywhere around the IT, which has landed halfway up the tower. Out the window, Demo notes that Jay's oracle is nowhere to be seen against the dark sky. As the others follow her out, Collin glances around nervously. "I thought being here the first time was bad enough, but somehow this place feels even stranger now." Demo: ...I don't even wanna ask your girlfriend if her "buddies" got here first. The state Jay was in, I wouldn't take him off the table either...

Echo: Seriously? Jay? I know he's acting weird, but do you think he'd just...kill people over it?

Karumet: You're vastly underestimating the situation. There's no telling how far this has advanced; and it's clear that whatever state he's in is volatile...what he wants at this point wouldn't change the cobalts. They exist for Jay's magic, for his proper cognition...as he is, they're helpless punching bags... Collin: Let's not think too hard about that yet, okay? He was at the top of this thing last time, so that's probably where he'll be again, right? Demo: ...Hopefully. I don't really wanna wander around out here... Collin: Sounds like we're on the same page then. C'mon, we don't have any time to waste.

He turns and hurries up the stairs to the next level. For several floors, there is nothing else in the cobalt complex. Near the higher floors, however, there are blatant signs of a struggle, ultimately leading to several of the cobalts having been killed, many of them having their throats cut. Maya's cobalt seems to be the only one who is even remotely left alive, severely injured, but not mortally so. Propped up against the wall, she breathes slowly and heavily, glaring at the group as they climb the stairs.

"...You're a little late, superman...there's barely anyone left to save...Demo chased him...to the roof...Collin and Tori are up there too, but...if we're any indication, then...they won't be much better off..."

She hunches over, coughing up blood before leaning back up against the wall.

"...I don't know what you're pulling out your ass...but you better make it count..."

Jay silenced all the cobalts because their counterparts never said anything to try and help him

Maya was the only one who did, so hers just got beaten within an inch of her life because she tried to stop him

Collin's breathing falters as he takes in the scene in front of him. Putting up one hand to his throat, he takes several seconds to calm down enough to respond.   "I... I will. I promise." CMaya: ...Don't let him get you too. I don't know what he's thinking, but...it's not right... Collin: ... I know. I'll make this right, just... please, hang on.

He hurries onward, Fawkes following closely behind him. The group reaches the roof of the building, where Jay stands over cobalt Collin, who he has pinned to the roof like an insect with several of his spears.

Across the rooftop is Cobalt Demo, who is kneeling beside Tori. Bound with chains and gagged with what appears to be a torn, red bandanna, Tori nervously looks at the group and struggles to say something that she cannot convey around the fabric.

Jay's outfit has changed significantly since the last time he was seen; taking on a more formal appearance with a cloak, boots, and slacks, all the blue of his dimension. His dulled, icy stare levels with Collin's as he comes into view.

"...You kept me waiting...again."

something like this

He shifts his gaze to Fawkes. "Come to let me down one last time, I see." Collin: No, Jay. We're here to help you. We're your friends, remember? alienrabitt: My friends? My friends wouldn't have done this to me! My friends wouldn't have let this happen!! Collin: That's why we're here, Jay. It's going to be okay.

He takes a deep breath and then begins the first part of his song, forcing himself to meet Jay's cold stare.

"Though the sun may rise, And the moon may fall; We're carrying on With our starlit song..." Summoning forth a wall of spears, Jay flinches as Collin begins to sing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! That...that won't stop me!"

He unleashes his spears upon the group. Fawkes lunges forward in front of the others as his arm transforms into its shield configuration. However, his shield is now a bright yellow, and crackles like an electric lantern. Jay's spears crash against it, one after the other, but none manage to break through his defense.

Fawkes: I won't fail you again, Jay! Even if it means stopping you right now!

Collin's song continues, now louder to be heard over Fawkes and his shield.

"Through hardships, And friendships, We've gone through it all;

The taken, The given, The rise and the fall..." Gritting his teeth, Jay summons even more spears, many of which he seems to intentionally overshoot beyond the shield. One by one, the spears stuck in the ground create lines of magical currents, slowly branching out to connect to each other, slowly closing in on the group. Daedalus: Oh no you don't!

A flaming sword clangs into form in his hands,which he drives straight into the ground. Searing lines of flame shoot outward in several directions, weaving in between spears that have not yet connected and piercing through some connections that already exist. "No more spear shit, you're in timeout now!"

Collin reaches the last verse, tears starting to brim in his eyes and squeeze his voice. Balling his hands into white-knuckled fists, he powers through his words anyway, desperate to reach out to Jay.

"Though the moon may rise, And the sun may fall; We'll keep carrying on With our starlit song!" Jay's spears abruptly vanish as he falls to his knees, breathing heavily. Shakily, he speaks.

"...Why did you...why did you come here?" Having finally finished the song, Collin untenses ever so slightly as he takes a few small steps towards Jay. Fawkes deactivates his barrier as the weapons disappear, although he stands ready to act if Jay makes any sudden moves. Collin swallows once, then takes a deep breath before finally speaking.

Collin: Jay, do you not... You're becoming shalvenn! If I don't do something to help you, I'll... I'll lose you forever! We're here because we want to help you! I don't care what it takes, I'll do anything if it means you'll come back to us! alienrabitt: ...I...I did this to myself. I deserve it, after everything that's happened, after everything I messed up...! I can't just keep going on like I haven't done anything...! Collin: Everyone makes mistakes, Jay! You don't deserve any of this! Half the problems we've had recently were because of bad decisions that I made, but... that's not worthy of a death sentence, right? Why would it be any different for you? alienrabitt: It wasn't just recently, it was a lot of things over time...so many incidents...so many people got hurt...and when I became a hermes...I...I was so selfish. I could've done anything. I could've saved the humans that took me in; I could've spared Gossip from being tortured by that horrible city; hell, I could've made everything there better so that nobody had to be hurt or killed, but all I could think about was...

He pauses for a minute, glaring at the ground. Taking in slow, deep breaths, he hisses out "...But the only thing I've ever been able to think about was you. All I've ever done has been for you. You said you wanted to make me happy; we've been fighting for everyone's freedom; so then why...?

“You severed yourself from the pantheon so that I would be comfortable with you, but the problem wasn't them...why? Why? All you needed to do was tell me that you didn't need me anymore; why don't you understand?! Even when I can't fight for you, I've only ever been your sword, your tool! You have never seen me as a person!

“I deserve this! I deserve this wicked deterioration; I deserve this slow, painful, merciless death! Anything I could do to myself is better than spending another waking moment knowing that, even though I have sacrificed everything I'd ever had, it still wasn't enough to make you let me go...if you didn't come here to kill me, just leave me behind; I'll do this just like I've done everything else, by myself..." Collin: J-Jay... What're you talking about? I've never seen you as anything less than a person! I tried everything I could to prove that I cared about you! I would move mountains if I had to for you! You saved my life, why would I ever not want you to be a part of my life? When... When have I ever seen you as just something for me to use?! Tell me so I'll never make you feel that way again! alienrabitt: You didn't let me go!! You saw me doing everything I could for you, knowing I was literally born to do it, and you never once asked if I could do anything else! I don't even know if how I feel about you is how I feel!

Just...just because you don't have anything else doesn't mean you had to take everything I had...! I had a family...I wasn't even human; by all accounts, I would've never been able to experience that. Hundreds upon thousands of years, I saw countless families, but I never understood, and once, just once, I could. I had something precious to me; something truly irreplaceable, and it...it was taken from me right in front of me, I was left helpless as innocent people were murdered in cold blood all because I was reborn for you; all because I had to wait for you!

And then I died, and I had it, I had the chance to bring them back, and you...! You...!! You ruined everything for me! How can you stand here, and look at me, and in front of everyone we know, say so honestly that you cared, that you'd do anything for me? You don't even ask me if I'm doing what I want to do; you just let me act without thinking, and it's cost me everything...! And it's cost you everything...! How could you...?! How could you?!

I feel so cold reading this

Collin: I.... I.....

He breaks down into tears, dropping to his knees. "I... I didn't know! I never wanted you to suffer! I didn't even know I was wishing you into existence! When you made your wish to be tied to me, I just... I thought this was what you wanted! How was I supposed to know that you were suffering all this time?" alienrabitt: I didn't know...what was wrong...or even what to say. By the time I realized it, everything was already...my arm was...there wasn't anything I could do...I'm so sorry... Collin: ... What can we do now? It's not too late to pull this back. We can still save you, start from the beginning... You don't have to be tied to me anymore. I... honestly never wanted you to be. I've only ever wanted you to be free... alienrabitt: I don't know...this isn't like changing my driving wish, this is something...bigger...I don't know if we can fix it... Collin: Then what can? All I want is for you to be able to live and be happy. You don't deserve this... Karumet: Phoenix; Mother of the Saas. Undoubtedly, after stopping Xentrilis, she and Nine still owe us something...it's the only way to do this without losing him. Collin: ... Jay, please. Come back with us so we can help you... alienrabitt: I...I don't know how long I'll stay how I am...the song you sang can't last forever...

Karumet: If it lasts to Kujaar, it'll be all we need. Collin: We just have to hurry. Please, Jay... Jay wordlessly dispels his remaining spears and releases Tori from her restraints. Yanking the bandanna out of her mouth, Tori shoves herself upright. "...He'll go." Taking that as an invitation, Collin slams his hands together with a deafening clap, and in an instant everyone who isn't a cobalt finds themselves back inside the console room of the IT. Shoving himself up to his feet, he spins to face Nydins and speaks with an unrecognizable tone. "Nydins, get us to Kujaar and Phoenix. Now." Nervously spinning in her chair, Nydins immediately sends off the IT. "O-okay...!!" Collin: This isn't fast enough!

He steps over to the console, tears still running down his face, and slaps one hand on its side. The IT's engine changes pitch dramatically as the ship's speed rapidly begins to increase. The IT rumbles to a halt as it collides with its destination, the door swinging open on impact. Collin staggers slightly as he lets go of the console, quickly catching himself as he stands back upright. Through slow, shuddering breaths, Collin looks back to Jay to speak. "C'mon... We're almost there..." The pair enters Kujaar, where Nine is already waiting, curious about their landing.

"Never seen you guys rush like that--...Jay..."

They get a bit closer, but still stay at a distrusting distance.

"Your...everythin' is...how're you...? ...We...we have to help...Phoenix 's still where I left 'er..." Collin: Please, you have to get us to her! She's the only one that can help him! With a grim nod, Nine heads back towards Phoenix's location. Deep beneath Kujaar, Phoenix remains, patient as ever. As Jay enters her chamber, Phoenix immediately lowers to turn her attention to him.

"A shalvenn...no, not quite yet...I never thought we'd get the chance...we can still save him...what do you need?" Collin: I... I'm not even sure anymore. I think it's... It's our connection with each other. It's constantly putting pressure on him and... He doesn't need to be tied to me like this. With a soft nod, Phoenix removes Jay's oracle, taking it into their claws and flooring him instantly. As the oracle is surrounded in an opalescent light, Phoenix addresses Jay personally.

"...With your soul unclouded, speak your honest desire, and fulfill the destiny you've chosen..."

alienrabitt: ...The only thing...the /only/ thing I've wanted is to make it all right...I want somewhere safe to come back to, no matter what...but I need the power to protect it...no matter what...I don't want to exist for anyone or anything but myself...I just need whatever it takes...to stand up for the things I want to protect...

Phoenix: Then your wish; ultimately; will be granted throughout.

There is a sound like glass breaking as Phoenix's light fills the room, spreading out further, and even beyond the horizon. When the light fades away, Jay's oracle is more of a mint color, accented by darker shades of blue. Just as carefully as she had removed it, Phoenix returns Jay's oracle, and he returns to his natural state and appearance within the instant.

despite everything Collin still has influence over him, but it’s only partial. that mint color means Jay’s his own kleivenn; Collin’s accents are a healthy amount

and I mean yeah, this could’ve been done ages ago, and this log hurts like a bitch, but it needed to happen. having all this on the table was important

Collin looks at Jay with a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty. "Is... Is it done? Is he going to be okay?"

Phoenix: ...It seems like the corruption's subsided. His arm hasn't shelled back over...it's staying yellow. Collin: I... I can't ever repay you enough for this... Phoenix: You brought me back from the dead, and you saved our city, along with countless other kleivenn. Rescuing your saa from the brink of self destruction is the least I can do for the sake of our champions. Collin: ... I don't really feel much like a champion. Nine: Maybe you've spent too much time fightin' and not enough time bein' rewarded fer fightin' stuff! I think you need a break. Collin: I... Nevermind. I should... take him back to the IT. He's going to need a lot of rest after all of this. Phoenix: Take care! We'll always be here when you need us. Carefully picking Jay up, he looks back at the pair for a moment and quietly says, "Thank you," before stepping back inside the IT.

y’all need a break

[stcrlghts]

Redecoration.

Summary: You and your boyfriend have just moved in together, calling for an immediate shopping trip to update your apartment. 

A/N: This is an idea I got because I went to Target to get one thing and ended up spending like $200 on pretty stuff. Also, it kind of sucks, but it was a cute idea and I really wanted to write it. 

As usual, shoutout to @hamilbye for reading this when it was halfway done for me and telling me it was an adorable idea. 

Pairing: Lin x Reader 

Warnings: All fluff, all the time (would I ever write anything else?) 

Words: 2,381 (I can’t even try to keep my word count low. Sorry.) 

Maneuvering your car into a tight parking space had taken ten minutes. Finding the parking space had taken half an hour. From where you sat, it almost wasn’t worth it. But then you glanced at the smiling being sitting next to you in the car and grinned. Lin was a toddler, already straining against his seat belt, trying to wrestle himself out of the car and into the store. You reacted immediately when he placed a hand on the door handle, reaching your hand out to grab his wrist, your body leaning over the center console. You laughed before growing stern, the look on his face just barely contained the excitement.

“Lin, let’s go over the game plan one more time.” You said this with a serious face, the way you’d been about your plans all morning. You had made this plan and gone over it with him last night. He swore he knew what the mission was, but his soft snoring during the study session last night made you think otherwise.

He pouted exaggeratedly, “(Y/N)! It’s a store. We’re here to buy stuff. Why do we even need a game plan?”

You shook your head, vowing to take this seriously despite how obnoxiously adorable he was being. Casting your gaze across the parking lot from where you sat in your car, your eyes landed on the store standing in front of this scene.

“Lin, I’ve explained this to you.” You sighed, turning back to him. What he couldn’t fathom was that you wanted to be in that store as much as he did.

“Explain it to me again. I like hearing you talk.” He grinned and you couldn’t fight back with a straight face.

“Lucky thing for you I talk a lot.” You retorted back, a playful smile crossing your face. You paused for a moment before reaching your hand towards Lin. You felt his hand slide into yours before you heard his voice.

“We’ve got this.”

You raised a brow, “We better. My parents only sent a limited amount of cash for this. And only because they like you so much.”

He laughed before releasing your hand, opening his door. You followed suit, making sure to grab your purse and cell phone before locking the car and stepping forward to the front of it, meeting Lin. Taking his hand again, you swung your intertwined hands in between your bodies.

“I can’t believe we’re shopping for our apartment. Together. For the apartment we own together.”

You didn’t glance over at Lin, but you could almost feel his smile. He was as joyous about it as you were, you already knew that. You had been dating for a year and a half. The month before today, Lin had mentioned to you over dinner that his apartment’s lease was ending soon. It had only seemed like the fair next step to let him move in with you. However, upon his moving in, you discovered just how little furniture you did have and that what you had needed to be replaced. You had deemed this the perfect opportunity for a little shopping and Lin had been all too happy to tag along to toss his input in. And so, this was how you had ended up in the Target parking lot.

You walked the rest of the way to the store in pleasant silence, your mind wandering over your memories with Lin and Lin passing his time humming a tune under his breath. Before you’d met him, humming had annoyed the hell out of you. Now, it was just another thing that reminded you of him.

You strode in harmony with him, you both reaching the automatic sliding doors at the same time. You gave Lin’s hand a tight squeeze before you both stepped over the threshold, entering the crispness the store offered by way of air conditioning and their décor. You had been in this store several times before, usually at least twice a month, so it only felt like… home to you. To your left was the store’s resident coffee shop, keeping the happy shoppers… well, happy and able to keep buying more products. Lin was silent as you continued to stroll, trying to pass several key sections of the store. When he saw the music section, he tugged on your hand.

“Pleaseee?” He asked expectantly, his eyes already gleaming with the joy of just being near music.

You sighed, obliging. “I should’ve brought him somewhere that didn’t have a music section” was what you said under your breath as you watched him release his grip on your hand and go scampering across the section. Though it took you off your planned path, you couldn’t help but grin at how passionate he was and how comfortable he was in his element. He browsed through the CDs left on the shelf, but quickly returned to where you stood.

Tilting your head, you said “Didn’t find anything that sparked your interest?”

He shook his head and shuffled closer to you, “No. I think I need to hit up a record shop soon.”

You put your arm around his shoulders, leaning in closer to him. “I’ll take you as a reward for today. I’ll even pay for all of your purchases.”

This perked him up, as you knew it would. But, before he could make words out of the excited twinkle in his eye, you spoke again.

“Don’t go crazy, though. I’ll be broke after this trip.”

He planted a kiss on your cheek, “Best girlfriend ever.”

You laughed, tugging him closer to your side as you continued to trek towards the department of your plans – décor.

Before you’d reached the area, you released Lin, rushing forward to grab a lamp that had grabbed your attention in its creamy blue color. Secretly, you had decided on a white, blue, grey, and creamy color palette for your apartment now that you got to redecorate. Lin didn’t need to know – women had to make some of these decisions. You could hear Lin chuckling as he followed you through the aisles, joyfully taking anything you could not carry. Every time you found something “pretty” and picked it up, you found another item. Before long, you had stolen two empty, abandoned shopping carts and filled them with items varying from lamps to pillows to decorative signs to coffee mugs to blankets to just about anything else you saw. All the while, Lin failed to be as quick with his input as you were to add things to the cart. He had listened to you talk the night before about how much you had always dreamed of decorating your own apartment in the city entirely with things from Target. That, as a girl with no home of your own, you had always wished and pleaded with the keeper of the stars to give you a place to call home one day. He knew this moment meant the world to you and he wasn’t going to be the one to stop you, especially when he was just enjoying how cute you looked, picking things out for the space you were going to live in together.

After an hour or so of being in the store, you had officially seen everything the décor, home appliances, and school supplies sections had to offer. You had filled the carts, and your heart, to the brim. You were overcome with the realization of how real your wishes and wants had become. That you had somehow attained all the things you had wanted for this time in your life. You had the perfect apartment in the city in where your heart lived, you had a boyfriend you adored and who adored you, and you had the secured spot in medical school. Lin had graduated a few years before from college, but you still had a few more to go until you could graduate with a Doctorate. At this point, the only thing that kept you going through your long, endless nights was Lin. He was solid and there for you, whether it was with gentle reminders to sleep and eat or with hugs or encouraging words – he always came through. When you fell asleep on top of your textbooks but woke up the next morning tucked in bed, you knew it had been him who had carried you to the bed and put away all your studying materials just as you liked them. He didn’t grow tired of it – he didn’t complain or insist you spend more time with him because he understood. He got that you were working towards a larger goal and that this was only going to be temporary and eventually it would all be worth it.

You were lazily wandering through aisles, wheeling one of the carts, leaning your weight against it. Lin was behind you, trying feverishly to use his phone’s calculator to calculate your total. You smiled, helping him fix his errors and finally coming to a total just under the maximum your parents had given you.

“That’s a lot of cash, (Y/N).” Lin remarked, eyes still on the calculator total.

“Yeah, I have something to remedy that.” You dug through your cavernous purse, finally feeling your wallet in your hand. You pulled it out and sifted through the contents, finding the envelope of coupons you updated regularly. Lin glanced over at you, his face a mask of confusion.

Pulling out the several Target coupons you had collected this week, you took the phone from his hand and subtracted them from the total. The calculations came to in your mind and you showed the final total to Lin, who looked only slightly shocked.

“That’s like a third of the cost!” He changed to entirely amazed and then proud all in one instance, taking the phone back from you as he looked at it again. “How did you do that?” He asked, the twinkle in his eyes showing his happiness.

You shrugged, “My mom taught me how to be a coupon queen. Go shopping with me and you can guarantee you’ll spend far less than what you bargained for.”

Just when you thought Lin couldn’t look any gladder, he did. He was still astonished when he spoke. “That’s super –”

“Nerdy? Geeky? Weird?” You guessed, cutting him off with your words and a smile, not at all taking offense to it. You knew most of your hobbies bordered on nerdy and you had learned not to care about what other people thought as long as you were pleased with them.

“Hot.” Lin finished, a grin reaching his face now too.

“That’s a new one.” You stated, walking back next to him, where he was still staring at you with that look in his eye.

“That’s because you don’t know how much I love nerdy girls.” He told you as you fought back another laugh.

He continued, “Especially when they can crunch numbers in their head with no mistakes. Especially when they save us $200 to spend later on my own nerdy habits.”

You smirked as he stepped forward, placing a kiss on your cheek before taking your hand.

“Why don’t you go check out and show off that nerdy coupon thing one more time?” He asked and now you had to laugh. He was being far too obvious and you were loving it far too much.

You continued his thought, “And then we can get out of here and go back to our apartment?” You shifted closer to him, your smirk growing as you watched him lick his lips, grinning as he contemplated what you were both thinking about.

His grin grew wider, “Yes, my dear, our apartment. Where we live, together. And where we share the same bed, together.”

Your smirk turned back into a full-on, beaming grin again, “I still can’t believe it.” You said, turning the conversation back to serious for a moment.

“What can’t you believe? That you get to share your life with the hottest nerd on the planet?”

You laughed, “That and that this is finally my life. The things I wanted the entire time I was a kid – it’s all here and it’s all right in front of me and I’m living it. I’m living the life that I, at one time, could only picture in my dreams. And I’m living it with you.” You avoided his eyes now, nostalgia overcoming you. You felt bad for ruining the moment, but you had to bring it up. There were days of your teenage-hood where you hadn’t believed in a future or that you would live to make it to it. Now it was here and you were an active part of it.

Lin grinned, holding your hand. “We both got very lucky with each other.”

Your gaze was cast downward, but you felt a soft smile on your face. You let Lin talk again because you couldn’t find the correct reply yet. Lin took his arm and wrapped it over your shoulders, tugging you closer to him.

“Now, what do you say you go check out and show off that insanely hot coupon stuff again and we get out of here?”

You laughed, “Whatever you want, nerd.” You walked back over to your cart and began to wheel it away, Lin struggling to keep up with you.

Fake shock registered in Lin’s voice, “I’m not the nerd here!” You could hear him jogging, his cart’s wheels rolling over the linoleum floor, as he tried to catch up to you. You continued to chuckle, quietly to yourself. He finally caught up to you and slowed his pace now, keeping perfect time alongside you.

“I believe you’re a bigger nerd, Lin.” You remarked back to him.

“Am not!” He countered, causing you to laugh again, so loudly it caught the attention of a passing employee.

“Are too.” You sing-songed, enjoying being back in your playful state. This was what was great about Lin – you could transition from serious and gloomy to playful and joyous with no complications. As you neared the check-out, you both continued your bickering. Going home, you continued to tease each other endlessly.

If this was what life was supposed to feel like, you realized, you wanted to feel this way every day.