#apologies this took so long!

[pantpisser9000]

Combined Together, Chapter one: Professor, Engineer, Captain

Inkling was a simple sea-creature, he had lived there for who knows how long, (most sea creatures didn’t keep track of their age, especially later on, and Inkling was one of those creatures) and he had done many things. He actually had an English degree, (as well as one to teach and a decent amount of experience in some science-related fields–he was called “Professor” for a reason, after all) and had a plethora of knowledge both from his vast amount of books that some friends on land kept for him, the book his own ___ had given to him, and personal experience. He enjoyed teaching, going on expeditions with his students. But he was getting old, so now while he was frequently underwater, he went to the “above” as many called it less and less, usually just to teach a lesson or two or just study on his own. But, something had always bothered him. SO many creatures were in trouble under the water, and nobody above seemed to really care. 

There had been countless times where Inkling had seen sea creatures die when it could’ve been easily prevented, or rockslides or volcanoes erupt where many of the slower creatures unfortunately met their end. And Inkling wasn’t exactly a hero. Maybe he’d help if he could, but he was old. And that gave him an idea, well, after a while. He came up with it slowly–what if they formed a team of creatures that could help those poor animals that couldn’t help themselves? 

He knew he’d need a couple of things, but he figured the best things to find first were a Captain, (as mentioned before, he was quite old, and he definitely couldn’t lead any expeditions.) and he needed someone who was strong, leadership qualities, holding their breath underwater would be good as well. And, obviously, he’d need an engineer. If what he was planning to do was travel all across the ocean and help out sea creatures, they’d need a place to eat, sleep, ect ect in. Plus submarines of sorts since he doubted that there’d be any sea creatures on the ship besides himself, and not everyone can outswim a hungry shark or territorial eel. Of course, they’d need many more people, but those two were his main focus. Captain and Engineer. 

Now he just needed to find them. 

Tweak had always loved tinkering with mechanics and building and engineering things. She enjoyed it so much that she went to college for it and passed with flying colors. She was part bunny, but what was unusual about that was the fact she was mint-green, instead of brown or white or black or any other usual colors of a rabbit. Short hair that was often partially held back by a pinkish hued headband and gloves and heavy boots usually adorned on her hands and feet. 

She had grown up in the Everglades of Florida, but came out with a southern accent so thick you’d think she was from Texas. And that was because she only really ever talked to her Pa, who was from Texas, and the people living in the Everglades, who she usually had short enough interactions with that it didn’t affect how she spoke at all. Whenever she let her large floppy ears sprout from her head, she had excellent hearing, and her Pa insisted she was the best creature-tracker in the whole world. 

But, as much as she loved her Pa and the Everglades, she’d been itching for more for a while. Going to college in the city was about as long as she’d gone, and while she never had stopped building, she wanted a real experience. Sure, she had a quick repair job, but she only went in on some days and eventually, fixing things gets boring. She always had so many concepts and ideas for transportation devices to some brief ideas for submarines on the occasion. She just didn’t have the materials to make anything all that big. 

Taking a walk through the swamp they called the Everglades, Tweak of course saw the people that lived there. An alligator hybrid or two laying in the sun, their babies curled up next to them. Tweak almost audibly went “aww”, but she hushed herself–even if they were people, she’d also prefer to not have alligator teeth lodged in her flesh. She shivered thinking about it, the blood trickling down – she stopped herself, shaking her head. Nope. She thought. Not ganna think about that. She decided, continuing her walk, jumping over logs and puddles and trekking through the mud. She’d prefer to be building, but she didn’t have enough scrap metal and she wasn’t called into work, but… maybe she could go in, say she could take over for whoever was working that day? She knew most of the employees were just there for the money or to get some stuff on their resume, while Tweak did it….Partially for the money, yes, it was nice (even if she never used it–she actually had quite a bit saved) but mainly for the fact that she wanted to have something to tinker with and improve her skills constantly. Even if it was just fixing busted up motorcycles and cars.

So, she hopped in the old jeep, (it was still functioning well because of her assistance, which her Pa was massively grateful for.) and drove. It was a decent drive to the city, but Tweak was fine with it. She was with her best friend; Machinery. 

Eventually, after the drive, she had arrived. Parking the jeep in the lot of the place, she walked in, and she saw something unusual. She didn’t want to interrupt or eavesdrop, but it wasn’t her fault if she accidentally heard something. She did have wonderful hearing, after all. So, she listened in. It was an older man–complete with a pink-hued mustache and a bald head, a bowtie fastened around his neck and seated in a wheelchair. I think I could make him a better one, she thought to herself silently, but obviously didn’t say anything. The other person was her manager. 

The manager, smoking a cigarette; “Listen, dude.. I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone here willing to develop their goddehm lives to yer… mermaid rescue?” 

The older man, pursing his lips and motioning with his hands; “... Underwater creatures. And-”

The manager, annoyed, slamming his hand on the table; “ REALLY. Nobody’s willing to commit their life to yer passion project, old man.” 

The older man bit the inside of his cheek, closed his eyes and nodded, before wheeling out. But Tweak was interested as she watched him roll out. Saving underwater creatures? While she wasn’t a medic or healer by any means, she was an engineer. And she doubted that he would’ve gone to a mechanics shop if he didn’t need someone to design machines and “gizmos” as her Pa would call them. She walked up behind him. “H—howdy there!” she said, stuttering. The older man blinked. “Hello?” he responded, confusion lacing his voice. Tweak intertwined her hands. “I’m- I’m an engineer there. I accidentally heard a bit of your conversation with my manager, and.. What I'm saying is, I’m very curious and also very very interested.” she finished. The man smiled. “Really?” he asked, and she nodded. “Well, I mean I’d like to know more details but.. This is something that seems quite interesting.” The man nodded, motioning her to follow him. 

“Let’s chat at the local library,” he said, and she responded quickly, “Alright,”. She didn’t have work today, anyways. “I’m Professor Inkling,” he said as they walked/rolled, and she responded back. “My name’s Tweak.” Inkling nodded. “Jolly good to meet you, Tweak.” he said, and then they arrived at the local library. Tweak honestly didn’t know it was there, but she didn’t mention that to the Professor. 

They sat down at a secluded corner of the Library, Tweak nervously playing with her fingers and Inkling had his own intertwined professionally. “I suppose I should tell you more about the job,” he said, and started to speak. “It’s an organization I’m working on–still workshopping the name, before you ask–and it aims to help creatures who need it below the surface. You see, I’m part squid, and I have lived underwater for many many years. And while there’s doctors and police and all of those things up here, there simply is not down there. I believe some creatures deserve more of a chance, deserve some healthcare of some sort and sometimes, they need saving. So, I’ve decided to start this project. My plan is to assemble a base team of myself, a captain, and an engineer, and then after a test run or two, we’ll get more of a team.” he said, and Tweak nodded. “So, as an engineer, what’d I be doing?” she asked, and Inkling beamed. 

“Designing the main headquarters–almost like a huge submarine-house–and smaller submarines to go out on small missions on. As well as handy tools to help us throughout and all of that stuff.” he said, and Tweak was practically beaming. “That sounds terrific Prof! That’s… well, I’ve always loved building things, even as a little bun, and.. Well, let’s say I’ve come up with designs for submarines before. Not very complicated ones, but a start, yes.” she said, and the Professor grinned. “Wonderful! Are you free tomorrow as well?” he asked, and Tweak frowned. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve got work. But, they day afterwards I am!” she said, and Inkling clasped his hands together. “Alright. How about, the day after tomorrow, you bring some of those beta designs, we’ll look them over and.. You’ll decide if you wanna take part in this project and I’ll see if you’re top-notch.” he said, and Tweak smiled. 

She didn’t say it, but she knew that it was unlikely he was gonna find an engineer as passionate as her. “Anything else ya wanna know today? I ain’t busy.” she said, and Inkling pursed his lips. “Hm. I’d just like to know some things about you. Childhood, if that’s alright.” he said, and Tweak grinned. “I can do that. Let’s see, I grew up in the Everglades with my Pa. I only really talked t’ him and he grew up in Texas, so that’s why my accents all like this. My Ma divorced my Pa a while ago, back when I was a lil bunny. Hardly remember ‘er. But, my green fur I got from my Pa. Uh, I’ve always liked tinkerin’ around, and I played ‘round with scrap metal a lot and made lil inventions. Went to engineering school, got that job ‘cus I was bored, and then I met you.” she finished, and Inkling put his hand to his chin. “Being passionate is always good, so I appreciate that. I knew that some of the people working at that place were… less passionate and more money oriented, but I’m glad I found someone like you.” he said, and Tweak nodded. She practically had this job in the bag. “I know I’m technically the one bein’ interviewed, but I’d like to know about you, Prof” she said, tilting her head. The professor chuckled. 

“But of course. Well, I grew up on a sea mount–a wonderful place, really. Christmas was wonderful, we always decorated the golden corral. Hm, well, it wasn’t all that interesting. Basic sea life, honestly. Ate, slept, woke up, ate. For a while, I was fine with that. But, I wanted to know more about the world, and more importantly, about the ‘above’. So, I trained myself to turn myself more humanoid–it was quite hard to get past my legs and arms becoming tentacles, but I did it–and, while I had to use a wheelchair, I went to college for English studies. Became a professor. And, a while after that, I saw all of the creatures suffering, and I came up with this mission.” he finished, and Tweak was slightly surprised. She had no idea what life was like underwater. 

The professor cocked his head to the side. “So, is there anything else I should be made aware of?” he asked, and Tweak shook her head. “I don’t think so. I ain’t all that interestin’.” she said, and the Professor nodded. “I’ll see you in two days, then, Tweak.” he said, wheeling out of there. Tweak was practically shining. She hopped in the jeep, drove back to the Everglades and therefore back to her Pa’s station, and hopped out. “PA!” she yelled, and her father swiveled his head. “Howdy there Tweak,” he said, and Tweak rushed up to him.

“Pa, it’s not official yet, but I’ve got great news!” she said, and her father cocked his head in anticipation. “There’s this like, underwater expedition thingy that this older man–his name is Professor Inklin’ – is setting up, to help out the creatures below, and I’m bein’ pretty heavily considered to be the head engineer! ” she exclaimed, and her Pa looked a little… sad? “So you’ll be leavin?” 

Tweak blinked. She hadn’t thought about that. “Well.. I suppose, yeah.” she said. She bit the inside of her cheek. “Well, if it’s what ya wanna do, that’s dandy, I’ll just miss ya.” he said, and Tweak kept herself from tearing up a little. “I- Um.. didn’t think ‘bout that.” she said, gripping onto her wrist. Her Pa looked back up at her. “Hey, Tweak. It’s perfectly fine if ya wanna do that. Just… contact yer Pa every once in a while, yeah?” he requested, and Tweak nodded. She looked back at his old radio. Sure, it was old and decrepit, but it worked. She gave him a hug. “I’m not leavin’ just yet though.” she said, and her Pa patted her back. 

The next day was bore-inducing. Tweak was phenomenal, as always, but she was bored. She was entertained by her thoughts of coming up with designs for submarines and other such things, she basically already had a few ideas in her head. Obviously, they’d need a variety–she was thinking of one based off of a angler fish. Light on the top to help them see in the dark incase if they ever went deep down into the trenches or if it was night. A small, slender, fast one would be good too. They’d obviously need one with a towline, in case any of the others got damaged. But, she decided she should start simpler. She had the idea for a very very simple ‘submarine’, it was really just so she could figure out the framework and then improve on it. She was thinking pedals. 

And she continued to think about various submarines and everything all throughout her work day, and while it didn’t affect her work, she did get a little worried it was so she forced herself to stop thinking of all those ideas and focused. When she left that day, she was excited for the next. She was going to scribble down some of her design ideas when she got home. She was ecstatic about the whole thing and she had to force herself to get to sleep–she didn’t want to be tired when she met Inkling the next day. So, when she woke up, she hugged her dad, jumped in the jeep, and drove to the library directly instead of parking in her (hopefully soon, former) job’s workplace. She walked in, before realizing that she was an hour early. She slowly walked out, deciding to actually eat some breakfast and then she’d hopefully end up a tad early for the interview. Sauntering over to a nearby restaurant, she grabbed some tater tots and ate them with some carrots. Maybe not the healthiest, but she didn’t want to take too long. 27 minutes had passed. She paid, walked out, back into the library, and decided to touch up her designs. 

33 more long minutes later, and Inkling came over. “Hello there, Tweak” he said, rolling over and situating himself across the table from her. “I’d love to see the designs,” he smiled. “I will say, I’m… not very knowledgeable on engineering.” Tweak nodded. She’d been expecting that bit, to say the least. Sliding the designs over to him, she began to talk. “So, that first one is just to help me get the framework down. It’s really just a small, circular submarine’s framing and I’m thinking about testing out both an engine and pedals. Once I manage to figure out how that would work, I can start to work on this one.” she slid over another blueprint. “It’s lightly based on an anglerfish, as I’m sure you can tell. Light at the top for night-time and deep cavernous missions, hatch at the bottom, dispenser as the mouth.” she finished, and Inkling looked to be in utter awe. “These are wonderful , Tweak. Did you have any ideas in mind for the headquarters?” he asked, and she nodded again. “Wasn’t sure exactly what ya wanted, but I came up with this. I call it The Octopod. ” she said. She was by far most pleased with this design. It was based on an octopus, 8 extended arms and a big circular head, hatch as the mouth. Inkling looked pleased at this one, too. “I adore this, but I think four arms would be better, just as… Well, first, I don’t think we’ll need nearly that amount of extra space, and two… they’re very close in proximity, and we obviously couldn’t make the arms very stiff, and I don’t want them to bang each other up. Tweak blinked. Of course. “Y-yeah, that- makes sense. But, besides that..?” she asked, and Inkling looked up at her. 

“Well, you’re certainly hired, officially. And two, once you make those changes, I think.. Everything’s really quite perfect.” he said, and Tweak flushed a little. “I think that, once you get all of your notice stuff for your previous job settled… figure out exactly what you need, and tell me in about two weeks, Saturday. I’ll meet you here, same time. I’ll let you figure out everything you need, make some small model tests just to figure it all out, yes?” he said, and Tweak nodded. “Sounds wonderful, Prof.” she said, and the Professor waved goodbye. “Well, I suppose that’s goodbye for now then, new Head engineer” and he wheeled himself out. Tweak already had many ideas brimming in her brain. As she hopped in the jeep, many thoughts and ideas swarmed her mind. Though, she decided to talk to her manager first–better to file her two-weeks notice in as soon as she possibly could. 

Walking in, the bell ringing, the manager looked up from the computer. (he, while he didn’t need to, also worked the front desk. He wanted more money, to put it simply) “Tweak?” he asked, obviously confused. She walked over, putting her elbow on the counter and smiling. “Where do I get the papers for my two-weeks notice?” she asked. The manager looked up at her in surprise. “You’re.. . leaving this place? Why the hell would ya do that?” he asked, a little pissed off. She shrugged. “Found a job that I prefer quite a bit more.” her manager grinded his teeth a little. “Oh, what, you got a little low-rank position at a damn startup or somethin?” she looked at him. “Nope” she said, popping the ‘p’, “head engineer” she said, and her manager slammed his fists on the table. 

“DID YOU GO WITH THAT OLD GEEZER?” he asked, yelling. She pursed her lips. “So what if I did? He’s passionate and willing to give me all the materials I need.” she said, and she noticed her manager was practically glaring at her. “Yer the best engineer we have. Think this all back over. You’re ruinin’ yer life.” he finished. He was pissed, claws protruding from his nails and teeth sharp. Tweak would be lying if she said she wasn’t a tad scared. “To be honest… not really convincing me t’ stay.” she said. At this point, she just began to speak again, “I.. I think I’m just gonna quit. Right now.” she said, handing her resignation papers. She wasn’t stupid. She considered this possibility, and then she walked out, not particularly wanting to continue this conversation. Tweak realized what she’d just done. She could never go back to that job again. But really, would she ever want to go back? 

Tweak was certain she already knew the answer to that. No. 

Walking back to her jeep, she decided she’d work on her designs more at home. Perfect them. Make a few more. But first, she wanted to make that framework. It was simple, yes, but it would be fun. Plus, better to work with what she had to figure out how she’d make it with real materials. 

Hopping in the jeep, a little bit of the leather on the seat tearing off, she drove back into her swampy home. She looked to her dad, who was surprised she was home so early. “Tweak?” he asked, and Tweak grinned. “Heya Pa. I’m gonna work here, instead.” he looked like he might cry. “Sounds great, Tweak.” he said, sitting up in his chair a little. He was ecstatic, but obviously he wouldn’t say that. 

She pulled out the scrap metal she’d been saving, deconstructed a older project or two, and she thought she had just enough for the basic framework. A day or two of welding, her face practically melting off under the hot Florida sun, another few days of hitting in bolts and making the pedals work, and a last day doing touch ups.. She was done. Grinning, she was proud. Sure, it wasn’t the most glorious thing, but it was good for something she’d built with her own two hands with scrap material and rusty old tools. Now, she just had to test if it worked. Obviously, she couldn’t go deep, but she did test a little in shallow water–it worked. She had a feeling with more covering, the light she planned, and an engine? It’d be perfect. Wonderful, even. Her dad wasn’t 100% sure what was going on, in all honesty, but he thought it was good. “Better than i could ever dream o’ doin.” he had said, giving her a slap on the back. Tweak grinned. 

And so, those few weeks went quicker than she was expecting. She and her Pa ended up spending time together, as well, which was really quite nice. And so, it was Saturday. Her Pa had bought an old trailer/wagon like thing to attach to the jeep ages ago, and now it was finally going to come in use. She loaded the frame into it, and drove to the library perfectly on time, and the Professor was waiting for her. She was a minute late, but he didn’t seem to mind as he waved towards her. “Tweak, hello!” he said, and Tweak went over and sat across from him. 

“Hey Prof.” she said, hands laced together “I built a framework, or I suppose an idea of sorts for one of the submarine ideas. It’s not the best, but I was workin’ with scrap metal an’ some older tools,” she said. The professor blinked. “My, you’ve outdone yourself then!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “Oh, an’, I worked on a lotta blueprints for some of the other submarines, too. Made a small model or two for them, as well.” she finished, and the professor seemed very pleased. “Wonderful, Tweak. If you could, do you have the lists of the materials you’d need?” she nodded. “I figured we’d probably only need the materials for the hq an’ one or two of the gups to start,” she said. The Professor nodded. “Can you meet up on Tuesday? I think I’d like to figure out where to get all of this.” Tweak nodded. “I’ll continue my work, then.” she said. The Professor nodded. “Oh, do you wanna see the framework, by the way? I’ve got it latched onta my jeep.” she said. 

Inkling looked surprised. “Why yes of course!” he declared, and Tweak led him out to the jeep. He looked to be in awe. “This was made with scraps ?” he asked, and she nodded. “It ain’t pretty, but it works. Obviously, the real submarines will be nicer, but I figured this could… possibly serve as a backup, if needed.” she said. Inkling nodded. “Excellent planning ahead.” Tweak, hands on her hips, smirked. She was way better off doing this. 

She and the Professor said their goodbyes fairly quickly. And now, she’d just have to wait. She had ended up tweaking (hah) the models a tad to make them a little better, and now it was Tuesday. Met up at the library again, same time once more. Inkling had a.. Hard to decipher look on his face. “So, Tweak. Some bad and good news. Good news is, majority of the materials I can get from here in Florida. Bad news is, there’s a few only available in… well, Britain being the closest.” Tweak blinked. “What materials?” she asked, and the professor slid the paper over. “Oh, that’s perfectly fine, I can get most of it done without those anyways! Faster than you can say buncha munchy crunchy carrots!” she said, laughing a little. She’d picked that expression up from her dad. “Sounds wonderful, then. I think I might search for a Captain there, as well. Given how I haven’t had much luck finding one here.” Tweak blinked. That made sense. She nodded. 

And for once in a long time, Tweak was very really excited. 

—

Captain Barnacles, leader of the…  Barnacles put down his pen. He couldn’t expect to be a Captain of anything yet, could he? He’d worked on a few ships before, a cruise once. Never suited his interest. He ran his hand through his short hair–he’d cut it before venturing out of his snow-filled home. Maybe a tad too short, but he didn’t care all that much. He liked to think he looked relatively friendly, despite his sharp teeth from his polar-bear side. He practically never had claws or his ears or fur out, he was pretty calm most of the time. Whenever he exercised though, it tended to come out, usually just ears, sometimes a muzzle and his hands more into paws. He usually exercised more at home, well, not really ‘home’ but his apartment. Speaking of his apartment, that’s what he was currently in. It was small, he had pulled together just enough money to buy a small apartment from all of his temporary gigs. He had done some laboring and construction a few times, worked a variety of jobs on a variety of ships, and maybe worked some retail for a couple of months when he first moved to England. His sister, Bianca, was content on staying up in their icy home, but Barnacles wasn’t. He had known exactly what he wanted to do since he was a cub. 

Sighing, he decided to close the journal he had started keeping since he had moved there, and walked out. It was a nice day. Well, it would be for normal people, but being part polar bear and all it would’ve led him to overheating, easily. But, he had been given a cold suit. It was pajamas, technically, but he always just layered other clothes with it and usually he was just a little warm instead of dying from heat exhaustion at all times. 

He just had a temporary construction job at the moment, and he was only needed on weekdays, and today was thankfully Saturday. He decided to stop at a shop to get a meal. Ramen noodles. He was practically on a college budget with the cheap –and probably not exactly great for him– food he ate everyday, but he didn’t have much of a choice. This was his life until he could eventually and hopefully work on a real ship or just be in charge of something. 

Grabbing the noodles, (all filled to the brim with non-meat protein, because in this world, it’d be much less moral) and checking out by himself, he walked back to his apartment, locking the door behind him. Everyone knew he was a goddamn polar bear, could probably crush their skulls if he wanted, ( he would never, though. He thinks he’d throw up if he tried.) so there wasn’t really a point, but he figured he might as well.

He grabbed a pot from a cabinet, filled it up with some water, placed the thing on the stove, turned the heat up, and waited. Glancing over at his weights, he decided it couldn’t hurt. Picking one up, about 30 pounds, and then the other, lifting and lowering them and doing so in a few different poses and in different ways, he heard the bubbling of the water. Placing the weights down, wiping the sweat off his brow and mustache and combing through his hair with his hands, he walked over. His ears were polar bearish at the moment, now, instead of regular human ears.

Opening a packet of ramen with ease, he turned down the heat, broke the ramen, and dropped it into the boiling water. He yoinked a spatula, breaking it apart in the water with some weirdly satisfying crunch es, and he grabbed the packet of flavoring. He tore it open with his teeth, before dumping it all into the pot and stirring. He broke it up a little more, stirred, waited, and repeated for a little while until he considered it done. 

He grabbed a bowl, carefully poured in the substance over the sink, and grabbed a fork. Then, he took his dinner over to his computer. It definitely wasn’t the newest model, and the guy wasn’t super super tech savvy, but he made it work. He had an account or two on a few job listing sites, and he thought his profile looked nice. A picture of himself, from the shoulders up, as the profile picture. He was smiling in it, but not with his teeth. Of course, he had to state he was part polar-bear, but he put it as a strength, as it did help make him stronger. 

Scrolling through the site, screen illuminating his features and scooping mouthfuls of ramen into his mouth, his eyes widened–the perfect job offering. It was posted with someone with no profile picture, which while a tad suspicious, not incriminating by any means. It read, plain and simple; 

Looking for a Captain for a new expedition on the high seas. 

Barnacles looked at the requirements for the Captain, and he hoped he met all the standards for it, this seemed like a huge possible opportunity! 

(Physically) Strong

Well, he definitely had that covered. He didn’t particularly like to brag or anything like that, but he was much stronger than the average person. Again, like mentioned prior; he could crush anyone’s skull if he wanted to. He was strong. He looked at the rest of the qualities needed, then. 

Leadership qualities (not shy, kind, direct, ect.) 

While he wasn’t as confident about this one, he was also confident this lined up perfectly with him as well. He had always been first in line when he and the rest of the Polar scouts went out on their little expeditions. Always led, always in front, always directed everyone (politely, of course) and he liked to consider himself a leader. So, that one checked out as well. He scrolled onwards. 

Quick thinker in stressful situations

Of course, he immediately remembered when he had been stuck in that hole when he was a child, and he hadn’t thought quickly then, but… if they were out in the open ocean, that wouldn’t be a problem, right? He thought back to his scout days again. He had saved Tracker quickly that one time, and he had always been able to move quickly multiple times before that on previous badge-earnings, so he believed he fit that requirement as well.

Kind, a people person. Able to resolve conflicts (most of the time) as well.

Barnacles, while some people feared him, did consider himself nice. He had gone out of his way to help people as much as reasonably possible, and he was nice to everyone. Usually he could start up a conversation easily, as long as the other person was even somewhat willing. Even though he didn’t get to talk to people besides the other scouts, (including his sister) and Professor Natquik, he considered himself good at communicating. He’d solved a conflict or two between the Polar scouts as a kid, so it didn’t seem impossible by any means that he qualified for this.

Can steer/has some experience steering a ship of any kind

He grinned at this. He definitely knew how to steer a ship. He’d taken over in an emergency situation once or twice, and had a steering wheel he could connect to his computer to practice–which he did only a little less than exercising. 

Able to swim at least decently well

Again, this was no problem–he knew how to swim quite wonderfully. He and Bianca were part polar bear, after all. They had swam very very long distances before, and Barnacles had loved taking icy swims when he was younger! It was part of his very identity, so this was not nearly even a ‘maybe’, he fit perfectly with this bit. 

There was a few more qualities, but Barnacles matched up very nicely with all of them–he was perfect for the job. So, he clicked the link at the end for the man who was hiring’s email address. He sent a simple email, talking about how he had all the qualities for the job perfectly and was very very willing to meet up in person to discuss further details on the matter. 

He was sent a response only 33 minutes after. It was overwhelmingly professional, not a single mistake in its words. After a bit of emailing back and forth, they had eventually decided on a date, time, and place. A library nearby, and they were starting the interview that next day, at 3:00 PM. Barnacles could hardly wait. 

The next day, he had woke up bright and early, at 7:00am. Sure, it was a long while until the interview, and he could barely keep in his excitement. Part of him wanted to gush and tell Bianca about it, but he figured he should wait if –or until– he actually got the job before raving about this to her. This could be a new part of his life! Finally, something he’d always wanted for years, a Captain aboard the… Well, he didn’t know the ship’s name, but he was still excited nonetheless! 

He worked out a tad bit to cool off his excitement, for an hour or two until he was (kinda) tired out. He had practically unending stamina, so he was only sweating by the end of it.

Then, he came up with a plan. Eat breakfast, exercise again and then since he wanted to look nice and fresh for the interview which he was so desperately awaiting, he would take a nice, long shower. He decided on toast with that artificial meat on it.. It was pretty accurate tasting, or so Barnacles had heard, (he’d only ever eaten fish, never anything else) so he sandwiched it together. He didn’t bother putting down a plate, as he devoured the whole thing within mere seconds. Sure, not the most filling, but he usually had bigger lunches. 

Hopping on the treadmill once again, he was on it for a shorter amount of time. Only 30 minutes. Wiping the beads of sweat gathering on his face, he headed into the bathroom. Stripping down quickly and twisting the knob, he stepped in and began his long as all hell shower.

Barnacles enjoyed taking long showers and baths–but unlike the majority, his were frigid and calming instead of hot and calming. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a bathtub in his apartment, (Something he was saddened by when he realized) so he had to resort to his less preferred option, showering. Still, he tried to make the best of it. He took about an hour-long shower, (the other people living in the complex certainly didn’t care how long he showered, given how he’d never take up any hot water. In fact, when he had first moved in, he had asked if that rule counted for cold showers, and the person running the complex looked at him funny and simply said ‘no’.) and by the time he had dried off it was 9:44am. Still a few more hours. 

He pulled on his other pair of cold-suit-pajamas, then the layer on top was just a nice-enough looking dress shirt and jeans. He thought he looked nice in his outfit. He looked longingly at his computer and the steering wheel, and he figured it certainly couldn’t hurt. 

About three hours later, he turned off his computer. Maybe he had played for a little long, but he wanted to be prepared! Who knew what kinda tests the interviewer would pit against him! …Or maybe because he was slightly bored. Who knows. Either way, it was now 12:45. Just a few more measly hours until the interview which he was so desperately awaiting. 

He would probably eat lunch in around 45 minutes. Maybe he’d… go take a walk, or something. Honestly, he wasn’t really all that sure. But, maybe that’d do some good for him rather then just going on a treadmill. He’d be able to see the sights…or something like that. Not like the sights were all that amazing, but maybe he could kill an hour or two by doing it. 

So, that’s exactly what he did for 45 minutes, walking along, his tall stature scaring one or two of the smaller hybrid people. Eventually, he had gotten hungry again, and even though he was usually one for something a little healthier… he had just eaten instant ramen for dinner yesterday. And at the very least, he exercised all the damn time, so he didn’t have to worry too much, or at least he hoped so. Either way, he stopped at a quick burger place, paid and got a burger, and devoured it. He was a tad hungry but.. That was fine. He’d eat a snack or something in a little. 

He had gotten and eaten the thing in around 5 minutes. It was now 1:36. He could barely wait, and he came up with a short-term plan once again. Go back to his apartment, freshen up a little, grab a snack, and then just head to the library. Sure, he’d be VERY early but he honestly didn’t care much. They were doing the interview at a library, after all. He could just read. Maybe on captain-related things, or for tips on interviews. So, that’s exactly what he did. He arrived at the library at around 2:07, and picked up a few books. 

Interviews for dummies

You’re a captain, now! 

Ship maintenance & managing 101 

And eventually, at 3 o'clock on the dot, a man came in. He was old, obviously, Barnacles could tell that much. Barnacles himself was only 29–this man looked to be around 70 or 80. Toned pink mustache, blue monocle, bowtie situated around his neck. He was in a wheelchair of sorts. He waved, “You must be Mr. PolarBear, yes?” and Barnacles nodded. “And you’re Professor Inkling?” he asked back, to which the professor nodded to as well. 

“That I am.” he said, approaching a table. “Over here, the interview has begun.” Barnacles nodded, placing the books back where he found them swiftly and walking over to the man, and sitting on the chair adjacent to him. “So, Mr.PolarBear.. What’s your story?” he asked, elbows on the table and leaning in. “Just Barnacles, please, Professor. But I uh.. I’m from the arctic, with me being part polar bear and all. I was in this little organization called the Polar scouts.” he began, putting his hands in his lap as Professor Inkling listened. “That’s what made up most of my childhood, being a Polar scout. I got almost all the badges, besides one. The walrus help badge. They never accepted my help. But, either way, we went on many little adventures, even helped a scientist named Professor Natquik once or twice. We ventured into caves, swam across the icy sea, earned various badges.” he said, looking back up at the Professor. 

“Interesting. So you have team building experience, swimming and helping?” he asked, to which Barnacles nodded. “Not to toot my own horn, but I saved some of the other members on the occasion. Once, a large ice piece almost fell onto my friend, Tracker, and I managed to lift it for enough time for him to crawl back out.” he said, and the Professor nodded again. “And I’ve swam my whole life. I’d say I’m at least decent at it. I always led the rest of the troop, too. We all helped each other at various times.” he continued, and the Professor nodded. 

“That’s all very good. Do you have experience with ships and steering, or even Captaining?” he asked, and Barnacles nodded before speaking again. “I’ve worked on ships off and on for a while, and I.. Well, I have this fake steering wheel that connects to my computer, and I practice steering quite a bit. I did it for a few hours today.” he continued again, then, “I have worked on actual ships usually as a cabin boy or once a lieutenant.” 

Inkling nodded again. “So far, out of all the ones I’ve interviewed for this position, you have by far the most experience.” he said, jotting a note on some paper Barnacles hadn’t even noticed he had brought. “While I will say, you have a very large chance of getting in, I have another interview or two that I’d like to conduct first. I’ll contact you if you’ve gotten the job.” Inkling said, and Barnacles was about to burst with excitement, but just nodded calmly. “Thank you so much for this opportunity.” Barnacles said, and the professor smiled, nodded, and silently wheeled off. 

Barnacles when he got home immediately headed for the treadmill after stripping his nice clothes off. He needed some way to get out his energy, and this was how he was doing it. He was filled to the brim with happiness–he was the one who the professor was most likely going to select? That was wonderful! But of course, he tried his best to contain himself. There were still a few more interviewees. He had to calm down a little. 

But, just a week later, when his hope was beginning to dwindle, he got a notification in his email. It was from Professor Inkling. He said that he’d gotten the job. Barnacles practically jumped for joy, but maintained his composure–this was a pretty serious job. He couldn’t be super excitable like he was at the moment, so he took a few deep breaths and just smiled, responding professionally and happily, expressing gratitude and that he would go wherever. After exchanging emails back and forth, Barnacles and Inkling had come to an agreement. That next Saturday, they’d go aboard a ship, (Inkling had already had a reserved spot for himself and another) and go to the US. Barnacles had technically been to the US multiple times before, (Alaska), but he had never gone to anywhere like Florida. Apparently, that’s where the Engineer was stationed, along with the prototype, or more so the first version? Of the ship, The Octopod. 

Apparently, it still needed a paint job, but that wasn’t needed for a quick adventure. Just to see how it’s working before they got the rest of the crew, and the newly-crowned Captain was truly excited. A crew. His crew. Inkling said that they’d chat on the boat about what types of people they’d need, and the jobs and everything about this whole experience. 

And Barnacles could hardly wait. He finished up the rest of his construction work for the week, and even if it was technically supposed to be a two weeks notice, the employee decided that one week was better then nothing. Barnacles already had everything packed up, figured some stuff out with his apartment. His photos, Polar scout badges and old uniform, old sock-puppet, a majority of his clothes– everything. He was prepared and he was damn ready to start this new venture in his life. And he was excited. And the week dragged on and on, and then finally after what felt like an eternity…

It was time. Barnacles slid on his backpack, packed up his suitcase. He had (sadly) sold his treadmill, but that was fine. At this point, he didn’t care about a treadmill–he had his dream job practically secured. 

Rolling his suitcase out the door, wheels clacking against the concrete surface and keys given to the front desk of the apartment, he walked out, ready to start this now era of his life. Barnacles walked out onto the boardwalk. He saw the Professor in front of the ship, waving him over as they both walked on. “Barnacles, hello” he stated, motioning for Barnacles to follow him, which was done immediately. Inkling motioned to a room, and handed Barnacles a key. “This trip will take a few days, so.. And I would’ve chosen by air, but there unfortunately somehow wasn’t any to Florida at the moment, and I’m not exactly accustomed to trekking across the US.” he said, and Barnacles nodded. He wouldn’t admit it, but while he certainly wasn’t scared of going on a plane, he’d rather the Professor not see him act at least a little stupid on their first trip. 

Barnacles unlocked the door, walking in. It was.. Small, but not small enough to trigger his claustrophobia by any means. It was taller than him, and the Hammock was low enough that he wouldn’t bump his head when he stood up, and there was enough room for his stuff. Of course, he’d prefer something bigger, (he was a tad afraid he would forget where he was in the middle of the night and then have his claustrophobic tendencies pop, because it was tiny enough to where that could happen.) but beggars can’t be choosers. 

He sighed. He’d make it work. He’d hopefully learn a little more about the ship from Inkling, some of the crew plans, ect. Setting down his stuff, (but deciding not to unpack it–he’d only be on this ship for a couple days.) he walked back out. Inkling wasn’t in sight, at all. Barnacles decided to take a look around the ship. It wasn’t huge by any means, but it also wasn’t all that small. A medium sized ship, to summarize. He wandered aimlessly for a little, until he came across Inkling again, reading a book. Inkling looked up, and immediately waved to the new Captain. “Barnacles, hello.” he said, smiling and Barnacles sat down at the chair adjacent to him, and Inkling set down his book. “So, Barnacles. I suppose I should tell you a little more about the ship, yes?” he said, and Barnacles nodded. “I’d love that, yes.” he replied, smiling and Inkling pulled out a blueprint. “This is just the basic design, of course, but..” Barnacle looked in utter awe–it was wonderful. 

It was clearly octopus based, with four arms that all had rooms. “It can hold about 7 people, with two people in two of the extended pods, and me in the library, the scientist in the lab, and Tweak, our engineer, in the launch bay.” he said, pushing it towards Barnacles. “That’s wonderful” he simply said, overtaken by the wonder of the thing. 

“So far, we’ve got you, the Captain, Tweak, the engineer, and me. We’ll obviously need a medic, and a scientist or biologist of some sort. We’ll need someone to man the thing, so likely a person who has experience in IT work, and a lieutenant. Second in command, I should say. Plus, a photographer, so we’d need one of those people who can do both.” he finished, and Barnacles nodded. “I unfortunately don’t think I know anyone who’d be interested.. The only one I can think of seems content where he is, and he doesn’t exactly seem the type to travel across the ocean. He’s stationed in the Arctic.” 

Inkling put a hand to his chin. “Hm. I can think of one person, but I think she’s pretty happy on land, as well. I suppose we’ll just have to figure it out some other way to get more crew members,” Inkling said, and Barnacles agreed. 

Looked like they’d just have to figure that out later. 

—

When the Captain and the Professor arrived, Tweak didn’t know exactly who or what she was expecting. She knew the Professor was part squid–the guy had mentioned it, after all. But, she found it interesting the Captain, (whose name she ended up learning to be Barnacles,) was part Polar Bear. She was.. Slightly curious what a polar bear had been doing in London of all places, but she decided to save that question for another time. For now, she was focused on first impressions. Reaching out her hand, she said, “Heya there, Cap.” she figured that maybe she should’ve been more professional, but he shook her hand. “Hello, Tweak, is it?” he asked. She doubted he’d lived in London for all that long but he certainly had a slight accent. Maybe that was just compared to her jarringly southern one, though. He was much taller than Inkling and Tweak, –at least more than 6’0, Tweak though– with dark brown skin, white buzzed hair and a more squarish mustache compared to the professor’s monopoly-man esc one(It didn’t help his case that the Professor also wore a monocle). Of course, the Octopod was … certainly not the most beautiful looking. Tweak had a feeling this would probably end up being the prototype, as if she were to remake it it’d likely be smoother, as the metal plates were more obvious and a tad jarring. It was also silver, and Tweak thought it’d be better as a different color. A yellow or orange, maybe. She’d thought about blue, but she didn’t want it to blend in–that wasn’t the intent. 

“This is.. Wonderful-” Captain Barnacles said, in awe. Tweak was honestly quite proud of herself for how she’d constructed it in such a short amount of time. Along with the first two submarines, which she’d named ‘gups’. Tweak was thinking “-A” for the frame, but she settled on F instead. She was planning on making a lot of gups, and she didn’t want one of her actually good ones to end up with “F”. She figured she’d follow the alphabet normally besides that, though. The next one she’d name would be the Gup B, then C, and then so on. 

“Now, I’ll need those materials ya got from Brit-land, and that’ll probably take another couple o’ days, a week or two tops.” she said, and both Inkling and the Captain bobbed their heads in agreement. She looked directly at the Captain, pointing, then. “Fer you, I have a simulator or two I’d like to run ya through. I’m sure yer experienced in all o’ that already, but..” she shrugged. “Better safe than sorry, yeah?” she said. The Captain, hands together behind his back, (Tweak thought he might be a slight bit overserious) nodded to that, and Tweak decided to show them to the small space Inkling had rented out over there for training related purposes. 

She showed him how to work the computer, and he seemed like he was excited but didn’t want to show it? She decided to not say anything though, she could very well just be misinterpreting what he was talking about anywho, she had literally known him for less than a hour. 

So, she gathered up the remaining materials and got to work quickly. Popping this into that and screwing one thing into the next and welding a thing or two, making a few final touches and finally, after a little less than a week… she was done. The Captain was an utter expert at the game, and Tweak knew Inkling had picked the right guy. She hadn’t managed to talk to him much, but when she did, he was very… 

Well, he had qualities a captain should have. Respectful, sociable, (even if a little over-professional at times), generally a nice person, and Tweak already could tell he’d be a wonderful leader. Seemed like Inkling had a knack for picking out the right people. Not to brag, obviously, but Tweak considered her designs quite wonderful. Everyone else seemed to agree. 

Tweak was excited the entire time, even if this ship was technically a prototype. Tweak had a feeling it’d have problems, but since she wouldn’t be able to see them until the thing was in action, she decided not to worry about it. She’d mention that, of course, to Inkling and the Captain, but it wasn’t something that would be a super big problem. She hoped. 

It was only a few days later until it was ‘done’. Sure, it certainly wasn’t the final final product, (Inkling said he had enough materials to make three more if needed(even if Tweak thought they’d only need one more at the most)) with its uneven plating on the outside and silvery gleam, instead of the plain matte color that it would eventually don. 

Even so, it was time to board. Tweak, the Captain, and Inkling all clamored on. They decided to leave most everything at the port–this was pretty much just a test run, if anything. The plan was to move the thing from Florida, (the current place they were at,) to Alaska, then back. The Captain wanted to visit his sister, who was pregnant. They were just planning on stopping there to say hi, spend a night or two, then go back. They all decided that it was best to not bring anything important, just some clothes and other supplies. So, they got on. 

“Tweak, raise me up,” the Captain ordered, calm and collected. “You’ll be up there faster then I can finish sayin’ “buncha munchy crunchy c-' ''' and the Captain was up. It had been decided at that point that the Captain would mainly do steering in areas where the main IT worker couldn’t handle or couldn’t be as precise in. But, partially since they didn’t have that IT person at the moment and partially because the Captain wanted to practice, he’d be doing most of the steering. They’d have to stop around 4-6 times, because while the Octopod was faster than a regular ship, it wasn’t exactly supersonic. 

The first day went smoothly, and Tweak checked out the area they were gonna land in in the Gup A before they landed, just so they wouldn’t crush any creatures. (That’d go directly against their cause, after all.) Tweak made a mental note that once they got back to Florida she’d add a tracking/heat signal sort of thing to the Octopod so they wouldn’t have to check every time they wanted to land in a separate Gup. She’d be making a lot of those mental notes. 

Sleep was actually pretty good–The Captain was a bit concerned on how Inkling slept in the Library, or what would end up being the library, (Inkling had only brought a small amount of books, instead of filling up the entire thing like he would eventually) nevertheless though he always ended up seeming refreshed in the morning, so Barnacles let those worries fade away. Tweak thought about how she’d bring her gaming system down eventually. She had always played late into the night back at home, and she wanted to reflect that here, too. 

Tweak also realized she needed coffee. Just another idea for her to implement, she thought to herself, sighing. When she brought that up, though, to the Captain; “I’m not sure coffee’s a good idea. Not exactly a wonderful thing to rely on..” he said, and Inkling piped up from behind him. “Yes, he’s correct. Not all that healthy, nor is it good for.. Most parts of everyone.” Tweak sighed. “Hot cocoa then, maybe?” she asked, one hand on her hip and squinting a little, a slightly displeased look on her face. She was partly joking, in all honesty. Inkling lit up. “Wonderful idea, Tweak!” he exclaimed, and the Captain followed suit soon after. “I do believe that’d be better” he said. 

Tweak blinked in confusion, but she decided to not question it. Maybe she’d just.. Secretly add caffeine to her own. She shrugged. Good plan, Tweak! she thought to herself completely un-sarcastically. The next few days were relatively uneventful–say, besides a conversation or two. Actually, the Captain and Tweak had a somewhat interesting one about games; 

“I know y’ said ya played some ship-steering simulator games, but.. Any other games?” Tweak asked one night, when the Octopod had landed for the day. Her elbow was on a table and had a questioning expression laid on her face. “No, not really. Never been the type, I suppose.” he replied, and Tweak was a little sour. “Maybe I should get you into a game or two. You seem like the Meowdew valley type.” she said. She could certainly imagine him playing that game. “What’s that?” he asked, and Tweak grinned. “It’s just a little farming game with some dungeon and monster-slaying stuff on the side. Fun little characters, too. I like Baru a lot–she’s fun.” Tweak said. “Maybe I’ll give it a try,” the Captain said, before putting his hand to his mouth, yawning. “I best get to sleep now, though.” he said. Tweak grinned. “Night, then.” she said, waving goodbye as he flung himself down the Octoshoot. Tweak went to bed after that, too. Even if it was quite early for her. 

It seemed like the Captain enjoyed going to bed and waking up early, because Tweak felt the ship moving at around 6:00am. Inkling wasn’t good at the systems, but he could press the button to raise the Captain to the steering wheel just fine. Speaking of Inkling, he really appreciated something in particular Tweak had done–adding magnets in the floors of the Octopod, so he could sit on a specialized chair (also with magnets) that could easily move. Tweak had a better idea that he could control more easily, but this was just a temporary solution, as the chair had a button so that it could stay in place. 

The days passed uneventfully, and a few more stops later, they had arrived at their destination–Alaska. Even if they were just staying there a day or two, Tweak was a little worried about the systems freezing while they were there, but it was summer, so hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem. “Cap, Inkling, hop in the GUP A,” Tweak said, motioning towards the thing. The Captain quickly clamored in, helping Inkling in as well. Tweak climbed in afterwards, and they cruised out of the Octopod, and then the light from the angler-fish inspired GUP surfaced in the cold Alaskan waters, and the Captain hopped out. Tweak and Inkling were bundled up, while the Captain was just wearing normal clothes. They didn’t have proper uniforms yet, so all of them were wearing their day-to-day clothes. The Captain’s face lit up as a woman approached, and he ran over. “Bianca! It’s so good to see you!” he exclaimed, and the woman, who Tweak assumed was Bianca, hugged Barnacles lightly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she said, and the Captain faced towards Inkling and Tweak. “Professor, Tweak, this is my twin sister–Bianca.” he introduced, and the two of them waved. “I’m sorry it’s such a short visit, but I haven’t seen you in so long” the Captain said, and Bianca laughed. “It’s quite alright. Here, why don’t I lead you to my home?” she asked, and they all nodded. 

It was homey inside, and the Captain seemed excited to be there. “I will say, i’m excited to meet my niece and nephew,” Tweak overheard, remembering that his sister was pregnant. While she feared it would be a little boring, it was a nice change of style from the bleakness of the prototype Octopod. She’d make the real thing a lot nicer, more homey. She had a idea for that one pod they hadn’t really decided to do anything with–entertainment room. She decided ping-pong was a good idea. 

The day and a half went by uneventfully–Tweak didn’t end up talking too much to Bianca. Not because she didn’t like her or anything, it’s just she didn’t really get the chance to. Bianca and the Captain had a lot of catching up to do though, apparently. The two of them left once to go on an icy swim, which made Tweak shiver just thinking about it. She was also not accustomed to the coldness, either, especially being from Florida and living there all of her life prior to all of this stuff. 

She appreciated Bianca’s hospitality to no end, though. She made them food and provided them with things during their stay, and was just as nice when they hopped back inside the GUP A and headed back to the Octopod. It took a second to open up, but thankfully did. Luckily, nothing seemed to be frozen from first inspection, so Tweak thought they were in the clear. How wrong she’d been. 

A little more than halfway back from their journey—Tweak, at this point, had really thought that the icy temperature wouldn’t affect the ship at all, and only seemed to cause a few minor issues–Tweak was up and about. Since they had already done this route before, Tweak actually had an auto-pilot mode on to go back, but suddenly, the Octopod tilted, and Tweak felt her whole body slammed against the side of the Octopod’s window, her cheek squished up against the glass. “Oh me oh my–” she muttered, as she saw the Octopod had somehow swerved off course, and was going to head straight into a wall. She backed up, and hit the Octo-alert, and the WOOP, WOOP, sound echoed through the Octopod, and she shouted, “Everybody, to th’ launch bay!” as she jumped into the Octoshoot herself. She knew they were going to crash, and there was nothing she could do about it. She knew exactly what was wrong, too. She had seen it, but had figured it’d be fine. Now, it was blatantly obvious it wasn’t. She made it to the bay, and she saw the Captain and Inkling come out right after her from different shoots. “Everyone, into the GUP A!” the Captain said, and while that was already Tweak’s plan, she appreciated him saying it. 

He was a lot more commanding, and eventually they all got into it, and Tweak raced them out of there fast enough, and she turned the gup around as it crashed into the wall, dust stirring up. She felt tears in her eyes, but quickly wiped them away. “It was just a prototype, anywho..” she said. Sure, she knew this likely wasn’t going to be the last Octopod, but this was not the outcome she was expecting. Captain Barnacles was already looking at the map. “Tweak, do we have enough battery to get to Florida safely?” he asked, and Tweak pressed a few buttons. She grit her teeth. “It’d be cuttin’ it close. But we can make it.” she said, looking back at the Captain and Inkling. Captain Barnacles nodded. “Best not waste any time, then.” he ordered, and Tweak set course to Florida. 

Those few days were.. Something. They all decided it’d be best for them to get there as soon as possible, so Tweak and Barnacles took turns sleeping and steering, and eventually, a little less then a week later, (the Gup A was obviously slower then the Octopod had been) they were back in Florida. 

Inkling turned to Tweak. “Do you know what went wrong, particularly?” Tweak grimly nodded. “I know exactly what happened. I’m gonna make sure it won’t happen again.” she stated, and both the Captain and Inkling nodded. “Do you think the next version will have problems again?” he asked, and Tweak shook her head. “I know exactly what went wrong, exactly how to fix it, and how to fix some other minor issues. I don’t think there’ll need to be another Octopod after this next one.” she said. He looked to Barnacles, then back to Tweak. “So, we could possibly start looking for people in other positions? For example, the medic or IT person?” he asked, and Tweak nodded. “Maybe in a few months, when it’s a little further along. You’ll have to make another trip to Brit-land, Inkling. I have a feeling it might be easier to get some of the bigger materials I need there, too.” she said, and both Inkling and the Captain nodded. “I wouldn’t mind going as well,” he said, and Tweak nodded to that. “I’ll get together a list, we should meet at the library tomorrow.” 

And that they would do, the next day all three met in the library and discussed the plans. The idea was the Professor and the Captain would go back to Britain to get the materials Tweak needed. Tweak could get a lot done while they were away, though. She also had a few people who were willing to work there to make it go by quicker and make it better–given that she'd worked on the prototype by herself. A lot of people had recently graduated from an engineering school, and most were looking for work, so this could help them out while they looked for more permanent jobs. 

Tweak grinned. They had a plan, and soon, they’d have a full crew. 

[historias-multorum]

"Hehe. Jonathan. I know it's late but I bought you another Christmas gift!"

(Elyon @ Jonathan)

@x-whiskeylullaby-x

"And I have a gift for you." Jonathan happily handed Elyon her Christmas gift which was a jeweled butterfly necklace.

[indigonite]

its fine its cool have a jmart kiss

<3

also as a gif for all your needs

[xero013]

Nimbasa Trio🚇⚡

Annndd a Pixel Version! (Was having fun experimenting with Ibis Paint's filters)

[gotchibam]

Shiny Masquerain & Shiny Aggron ko-fi doodle for cyrus!

[damianito]

The holy trinity (close up ↴ )

[lcs-scar]

PLEAS PLEAS PLLEEEEAASSSS

Can you draw some pete content?? 🙌🙌🙏🙏🙏🙇🙇🙇

THAK YOU IF ITS YES

sure!!

[non-un-topo]

To the next adventure...

Image description and details under cut

I.D.

[A drawing of Nicky, Joe, Quynh, and Andy from The Old Guard. They are all in profile, walking in a straight line facing the sun. They are dressed in medieval clothing and armour, and each carry their own weapons and bags. Nicky has his sword, a crossbow, a quiver of bolts, a dagger at his belt and another strapped to his ankle. Joe is holding his sword, a bag, and a coin purse. Quynh's bow is over her back, and her quiver is at her hip. Two daggers are strapped to her belt, one of them matching Nicky's. Andy is holding her axe, two bags, and a dagger. They each have serene expressions and closed eyes, as if they're not in a hurry. In the background, the seasons change from winter to spring, summer, fall. There is an old tree behind them, and its branches change with the seasons.]

[dr-vauclair-art]

Portrait 17/30 - Femshep (Mass Effect)

[anonyymouslyyours]

spencer w girly reader 🎀( part.5 )

spencer smiles fondly behind you, as you walk eagerly over to hotch, heels clicking on the ground.

"hotch!" you say, a smile on your face.

aaron looks mildly confused, eyebrows knitted, as he stares down at you. your wearing pink, and besides penelope, he rarely sees this much colour in the office.

"hi?" he says, confused, but polite as always.

"i have a cookie! freshly baked this morning, though i do recommend you heat it up because theres chocolate inside and it will warm it up and i hope it cheers you up because, you just look so sad, and your frowning-" spencer pats you on the shoulder, silently acknowledging your rambling.

"wait m'sorry!"

"no, dont be." he says, smiling fondly.

"well i hope you enjoy, and oh, do heat it up. right bye hotchy!" you say, standing up on your tiptoes and planting a little kiss on his check. you hand him the tupperware, cookie tucked inside.

you skip around, leaving hotch ( who would usually never tolerate a nickname ), standing with a cookie in a pink tupperware with stickers, and spencer scratching his head with a shrug.

[fatehbaz]

patience being tested. being forced by a bizarre unfortunate situation to adhere to university requirement technicality by taking this simple basic elementary "introduction to environmental history" class.

this class is from facilitators/program which do, like, "history of the American frontier" or "history of fishing and hunting" and still basically subscribe to that old-school twentieth-century idealization and celebration of characters like Teddy Roosevelt and reverence for a mythical arc-of-history-bent-towards-justice narrative of the often-clumsy but ultimately-benevolent US federal government and its mission to "save nature" through the miracle of "sustained yield," while heroic federal land management agencies and "heritage" institutions lead to way, staffed by exceptional individuals (appeals to nostalgia for the frontier and an imagined landscape of the American West; ego-stroking appeals to flattering self-image that center the environmentalist or academic). where they invoke, y'know, ideas like "ecology is important because don't you enjoy cross-country skiing in The Woods with your niece and nephew? don't you like hunting and fishing?" which makes it feel like a time capsule of appeals and discourses from the 1970s. and it invokes concept of "untouched wilderness" (while eliding scale of historical Indigenous environmental relationships and current ongoing colonial violence/extractivism). but just ever-so-slightly updated with a little bit of chic twenty-first-century flair like a superficial land acknowledgement or a reference to "labor histories" or "history from below," which is extra aggravating when the old ideologies/institutions are still in power but they're muddying the water and diluting the language/frameworks (it's been strange, watching words like "multispecies" and "Anthropocene" over the years slowly but surely show-up on the posters, fliers, course descriptions, by now even appearing adjacent to the agri-business and resource extraction feeder programs, like a recuperation or appropriation.) even from a humanities angle, it's still, they're talking at me like "You probably didn't know this, but environmental history is actually pretty entangled with political and social events. In fact, we can synthesize sources and glean environmental info from wacky places like workers' rolls in factories, ship's logs, and poetry from the era." and i'm nodding like YEP.

the first homework assignment is respond to this: "Define and describe 'the Anthropocene'. Do you think 'the Anthropocene' is a useful concept? Why or why not?" Respond in 300 words.

so for fun, right now in class, going to see how fast i can pull up discussion of Anthropocene-as-concept solely from my old posts on this microblogging site.

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ok, found some

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I think that the danger in any universal narrative or epoch or principle is exactly that it can itself become a colonizing force. [...] I’m suspicious of the Anthropocene as concept for the very reason that it subsumes so many peoples, nations, histories, geographies, political orders. For that reason, I think ideas like the Anthropocene can be a useful short-hand for a cluster of tangible things going on with the Earth at the moment, but we have to be very careful about how fluid and dynamic ideas become concretized into hegemonic principles in the hands of researchers, policymakers, and politicians. There’s so much diversity in histories and experiences and environmental realities even between relatively linked geographies here in Canada [...]. Imagine what happens when we try to do that on a global scale - and a lot of euro-western Anthropocene, climate change and resilience research risks doing that - eliding local specificities and appropriating knowledge to serve a broader euro-western narrative without attending to the inherent colonial and imperial realities of science and policy processes, or even attending to the ways that colonial capitalist expansion has created these environmental crises to begin with. While we, as a collective humanity, are struggling with the realities of the Anthropocene, it is dangerous to erase the specific histories, power-relations, political orders that created the crisis to begin with. So, I’m glad that a robust critique of the Anthropocene as a concept is emerging.

Text by: Words of Zoe Todd, as interviewed and transcribed by Caroline Picard. “The Future is Elastic (But it Depends): An Interview with Zoe Todd.” 23 August 2016.

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The Great Acceleration is the latest in a series of human-driven planetary changes that constitute what a rising chorus of scientists, social scientists, and humanists have labeled the Anthropocene - a new Age of Humans. [...] But what the Anthropocene label masks, and what the litany of graphs documenting the Great Acceleration hide, is a history of racial oppression and violence, along with wealth inequality, that has built and sustained engines of economic growth and consumption over the last four centuries. [...] The plantation, Sidney Mintz long ago observed, was a “synthesis of field and factory,” an agro-industrial system of enterprise [...]. Plantation legacies, along with accompanying strategies of survival and resistance, dwell in the racialized geographies of the United States’ and Brazil’s prison systems. They surface in the inequitable toxic burdens experienced by impoverished communities of color in places like Cancer Alley, an industrial corridor of petrochemical plants running along the Mississippi River from New Orleans to Baton Rouge, where cotton was once king. And they appear in patterns of foreign direct investment and debt servitude that structure many land deals in the Caribbean, Brazil, and sub-Saharan Africa [...]. [C]limatologists and global change scientists from the University of London, propose instead 1610 as a date for the golden spike of the Anthropocene. The date marked a detectable global dip in carbon dioxide concentrations, precipitated, they argue, by the death of nearly 50 million indigenous human inhabitants [...]. The degradation of soils in the tobacco and cotton-growing regions in the American South, or in the sugarcane growing fields of many Caribbean islands, for example, was a consequence of an economic and social system that inflicted violence upon the land and the people enslaved to work it. Such violent histories are not so readily evident in genealogies that date the Anthropocene’s emergence to the Neolithic Revolution 12,000 years ago, the onset of Europe’s industrial revolution circa 1800, or the Trinity nuclear test of 1945. Sugarcane plantations were already prevalent throughout the Mediterranean basin during the late middle ages. But it was during the early modern era, and specifically in the Caribbean, where the intersection of emerging proto-capitalist economic models based on migratory forced labor (first indentured servitude, and later slavery), intensive land usage, globalized commerce, and colonial regimes sustained on the basis of relentless racialized violence, gave rise to the transformative models of plantations that reshaped the lives and livelihoods of human and non-human beings on a planetary scale. [...] We might, following the lead of science studies scholar Donna Haraway and anthropologist Anna Tsing, more aptly designate this era the Plantationocene. [...] It is also an invitation to see, in the words of geographer Laura Pulido, “the Anthropocene as a racial process,” one that has and will continue to produce “racially uneven vulnerability and death." [...] And how have such material transformations sustained global flows of knowledge and capital that continue to reproduce the plantation in enduring ways?

Text by: Sophie Sapp Moore, Monique Allewaert, Pablo F. Gomez, and Gregg Mitman. "Plantation Legacies." Edge Effects. 22 January 2019. Updated 15 May 2021. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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Geologists and other scientists will fight over [the definition of the beginning start-date of the Anthropocene] in scientific language, seeking traces of carbon dioxide that index the worst offenses of European empire which rent and violated the flesh, bodies, and governance structures of Indigenous and other sovereign peoples in the name of gold, lumber, trade, land, and power. [...] The stories we tell about the origins of the Anthropocene implicate how we understand the relations we have with our surrounds. In other words, the naming of the Anthropocene epoch and its start date have implications not just for how we understand the world, but this understanding will have material consequences, consequences that affect body and land.

Text by: Heather Davis and Zoe Todd. On the Importance of a Date, or Decolonizing the Anthropocene. ACME An International Journal for Critical Geographies. December 2017. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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From Aime and Suzanne Cesaire, C. L. R. James, Claudia Jones, Eduoard Glissant, through Sylvia Wynter, Christina Sharpe, and so many others, critical anticolonial and race theory has been written from the specific histories that marked the Black Atlantic. [...] Glissant also reminds us, secondly, of how cunning the absorptive powers of [...] liberal capitalism are - how quickly specific relations are remade as relations-erasing universal abstractions. [...] This absorptive, relations-erasing universalism is especially apparent in some contemporary discourses of […] liberalism and climate collapse - what some call the Anthropocene - especially those that anchor the crisis in a general Human calamity which, as Sylvia Wynter has noted, is merely the name of an overdetermined and specific [White] European man. […] [T]he condition of creating this new common European world was the destruction of a multitude of existing black and brown worlds. The tsunami of colonialism was not seen as affecting humanity, but [...] these specific people. They were specific - what happened to them may have been necessary, regrettable, intentional, accidental - but it is always them. It is only when these ancestral histories became present for some, for those who had long benefitted from the dispossession [...], that suddenly the problem is all of us, as human catastrophe.

Text by: Elizabeth Povinelli. “The Ancestral Present of Oceanic Illusions: Connected and Differentiated in Late Toxic Liberalism.” e-flux Journal Issue #112. October 2020.

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The narrative arc [of White "liberal humanism"] [...] is often told as a kind of European coming-of-age story. […] The Anthropocene discourse follows the same coming-of-age [...] script, searching for a material origin story that would explain the newly identified trajectory of the Anthropos […]. Sylvia Wynter, W.E.B. DuBois, and Achille Mbembe all showed how that genealogy of [White subjecthood] was [...] articulated through sixteenth- through nineteenth-century [historiographies and discourses] in the context of colonialism, [...] as well as forming the material praxis of their rearrangement (through mining, ecological rearrangements and extractions, and forms of geologic displacements such as plantations, dams, fertilizers, crops, and introduction of “alien” animals). […] As Wynter (2000) commented, “The degradation of concrete humans, that was/is the price of empire, of the kind of [Eurocentric epistemology] that underlies it” (154).

Text by: Kathryn Yusoff. “The Inhumanities.” Annals of the American Association of Geographers, Volume 11, Issue 3. November 2020.

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As Yarimar Bonilla suggests in regard to post-Irma-and-Maria Puerto Rico, “vulnerability is not simply a product of natural conditions; it is a political state and a colonial condition.” Many in the Caribbean therefore speak about the coloniality of disaster, and the unnaturalness of these “natural” disasters [...]. Others describe this temporality by shifting [...] toward an idea of the Plantationocene [...]. As Moore and her colleagues write, “Plantation worlds, both past and present, offer a powerful reminder that environmental problems cannot be decoupled from histories of colonialism, capitalism, and racism that have made some human beings more vulnerable [...].” [W]e see that contemporary uneven socioecologies associated with the rise of the industrial world ["the Anthropocene"] are based [...] also on the racialized denial and foreshortening of life for the sacrificial majority of black, brown, and Indigenous people and their relegation to the “sacrifice zones” of extractive industry. [...] [A]ny appropriate response to the contemporary climate emergency must first appreciate its foundations in the past history of the violent, coercive, transatlantic system of plantation slavery; in the present global uneven development, antiblackness, and border regimes that shape human vulnerability [...] that continues to influence who has access to resources, safety, and preferable ecologies [...] and who will be relegated to the “plantation archipelagoes” (as Sylvia Wynter called them) [...].

Text by: Mimi Sheller. “Thinking Beyond Coloniality: Toward Radical Caribbean Futures.” Small Axe (2021), 25 (2 (65)), pages 169-170. Published 1 July 2021. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

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Indigenous genocide and removal from land and enslavement are prerequisites for power becoming operationalized in premodernity [...]; it was/is a means to operationalize extraction (therefore race should be considered as foundational rather than as periphery to the production of those structures and of global space). [...] Wynter suggests that we […] consider 1452 as the beginning of the New World, as African slaves are put to work on the first plantations on the Portuguese island of Madeira, initiating the “sugar-slave” complex - a massive replantation of ecologies and forced relocation of people […]. Wynter argues that the invention of the figure of Man in 1492 as the Portuguese [and Spanish] travel to the Americas instigates at the same time “a refiguring of humanness” in the idea of race. [...] The natal moment of the 1800 Industrial Revolution, […] [apparently] locates Anthropocene origination in […] the "new" metabolisms of technology and matter enabled by the combination of fossil fuels, new engines, and the world as market. […] The racialization of epistemologies of life and nonlife is important to note here […]. While [this industrialization in the nineteenth century] […] undoubtedly transformed the atmosphere with […] coal, the creation of another kind of weather had already established its salient forms in the mine and on the plantation. Paying attention to the prehistory of capital and its bodily labor, both within coal cultures and on plantations that literally put “sugar in the bowl” (as Nina Simone sings) […]. The new modes of material accumulation and production in the Industrial Revolution are relational to and dependent on their preproductive forms in slavery […]. In 1833, Parliament finally abolished slavery in the British Caribbean, and the taxpayer payout of £20 million in “compensation” [paid by the government to slave owners for their lost "property"] built the material, geophysical (railways, mines, factories), and imperial infrastructures of Britain and its colonial enterprises and empire. [...] A significant proportion of funds were invested in the railway system connecting London and Birmingham (home of cotton production and […] manufacturing for plantations), Cambridge and Oxford, and Wales and the Midlands (for coal). Insurance companies flourished [...]. The slave-sugar-coal nexus both substantially enriched Britain and made it possible for it to transition into a colonial industrialized power […]. The slave trade […] fashioned the economic conditions (and institutions, such as the insurance and finance industries) for industrialization.

Text by: Kathryn Yusoff. "White Utopia/Black Inferno: Life on a Geologic Spike". e-flux Journal Issue #97. February 2019. [Bold emphasis added by me.]

[ask-season53-cast]

Shuichi how does it feel that nothing was real? I assume that just because it was a simulation, the cast wasn't exactly, uhh 'reading' off a script....

[weskie]

O Captain, My Captain! (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

18+ | 2100 words, dubcon, gunpoint blow job, sex fantasies, gender neutral reader, wesker being a little shit but somehow still a lil soft | Fic Directory

original request

You always were his favorite.  So smart and perceptive, sharp and witty.  Of course you would be the one to find him first.  It almost pained him to devastate you in such a way.  To see the way your face fell when those words left his mouth.

“I’ve always been with Umbrella.”

The way you whispered his title in disbelief when he pointed his gun at you was… perplexing.  He figured you’d have one of your usual wise-cracks to chuck at him.  Instead you–

“I trusted you, I–” You quiver, staring down the barrel that could spell your undoing in a mere flash. Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the tank containing the Tyrant.  “Please don’t kill me…” 

Beautiful, isn’t it?  Wesker thinks to himself.  He wonders what you must think of his good work.  What you must think of everything.  

Deep down, he doesn’t want to do this. In fact, it had been his plan to grab you before death could take you in some twisted form or another.  You were the only one he wasn’t keen to place in this experiment.  He fully intended to run off with you in his arms, play the hero, whisk you away to safety and maybe finally allow some of his affections free to make an attempt at something more.  You weren’t supposed to find him.

You’ve certainly dashed his plans.  So what now?  

“I’ll do anything!”

Of that, he’s certain.  Most people staring down the barrel of a gun would say the same.  Perhaps…

Now that’s a thought.

“Anything?”  He asks with a cock of his head.  “And just what could you do for me, my dear?”  The corner of his mouth twitches in a small smirk as the term of endearment hits you.  He saunters forward, handgun still trained on you.  Little do you know he’d clicked the safety on before raising it toward you to begin with.

It’s precious how you shiver under his gaze.  Like you know exactly what he’s thinking, or you’re at least partly aware of it.  

This situation has obviously ruined his plans to pursue you once the dust had settled.  Perhaps he should take what he can get now while he’s got the opportunity.  Sure there’s terror in your eyes, but he’s seen the way you looked at him before.  The glint in your gaze, the pining glances and shy smiles.  Wesker was no fool.

But he is an opportunist.

“I don’t kno–”

“Oh, but I think you do.” He purrs, pressing the muzzle under your chin to force you to look right into his eyes.  He glides his thumb across your lower lip, tongue peaking out to wet his own.  “Ah, ah… Don’t squirm.  You wouldn’t want my finger to slip, would you?”  It isn’t even on the trigger.  He smiles sweetly as you take a breath to still yourself.  “That’s it, sweetheart.  Very good.”

You’re adorable like this.  Eyes wide, lower lip quivering beneath the pad of his thumb.  Wesker leans forward until his lips are next to your ear.

“I want you on your knees, my dear.  Think of it like a new training exercise– just you and me.”  His breaths fan against the shell of your ear, words shocking your eyes even wider.  He can hear you gulp in anticipation before you start to descend.  “Show your Captain what you can do, hm?” The sight alone has him twitching in his pants.  He’d never admit to the overflowing excitement in watching you kneel before him, knowing full well he was about to have you in a way he’s only dreamt of.  God, the thoughts he’s had of you– the way he’s come apart at mere fantasies all because of you…

His breath stutters as you work him free from his pants, halting entirely when you grasp his cock and stroke.  He can feel the tremble in your grip, so he smooths his free hand through your hair to coax you to relax.  He nudges you forward gently. 

He knows you can’t see his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses, but he almost wishes you could.  If you could only see the exhilaration in his eyes coupled with the lack of genuine hostility, maybe you wouldn’t be so afraid of the gun in his right hand.  Maybe you’d know it was all for show to keep you from getting any bright ideas.  And fuck, he could’ve dropped the damned thing the second your tongue grazed the underside of his tip.  It’s been so long since he’s been touched by another; he never has the time to even consider it with his double-triple-agent life. It’s almost embarrassing how sensitive he is to the warm wetness of your tongue.

But he needs more.

His fingers curl in your hair to pull you nearer– his signal for you to open wide and take him. He releases a shuddering breath when your lips wrap around him, descending nice and slow.  The sensation of you sucking him is simply beyond words, completely and utterly tantalizing in the way it combines with the hot drag of your tongue.

A soft moan works past his lips when that pesky gag reflex of yours makes your throat clamp deliciously around him.  He doesn’t let you pull off.  He can’t drop the facade quite yet– can’t be too gentle lest you get any stupid ideas.

“Ah, ah… Hold it.”  He breathes, fingers gripping tighter in your hair, pushing your head down.  “That’s it, dear…”  For all of your sputtering below, you manage to resist the need to release him by the time he finally jerks you back.  

He gives you a minute to gasp desperately before pressing the gun to your temple. Your eyes flutter open as if you'd forgotten the lingering threat.  Your pupils are blown and the way you squirm is all too obvious.

He knew you'd like this. 

Somewhere, deep past that layer of fear, there was a part of you so aroused by this that you couldn’t help but let it affect you.  Maybe, with his cock down your throat, you realized that this was what you’d always wanted too.  That all those sweet little looks you’d hide when he’d turn your way weren’t for nothing.  That your lust for your Captain was coming to fruition in an unorthodox way that was still just as delicious as whatever sinful thoughts you’ve kept of him all this time.

“I'm impressed. But you can do better for me, can’t you?”  Wesker’s eyes roll when you dive back in of your own accord, suckling and swirling the tip in a way that screams more than mere survival instinct.  It takes no time at all for him to give in and start with slow thrusts into your mouth.  Paired with the way he controls the bobbing of your head makes it truly like heaven itself.  Wesker could damn well forget everything– where he was, all that had happened, even the Tyrant mere feet away meant nothing right now.  Your little gags and chokes around his shaft ring like music to his ears, drowning out the hum of machinery preserving his subject, echoing in his mind to wash away every scream he’s heard since this mission began.

There’s just this.

Just you and him.

“That’s– mmh, that’s it!”  Wesker’s breaths grow heavier by the second and he presses the muzzle harder to your temple, wordlessly demanding that you keep up with those wicked glides of your tongue, keep swallowing his cock, keep fucking taking him.

His mask begins to slip with every weakening moan that was never meant to make it past his lips until finally– fucking finally– he holsters that damned gun and grips your head with his other hand, hips rolling until that familiar tightening sensation grows and grows and your name chokes breathlessly from his lips.  With one last sharp thrust, Wesker buries himself to the base, hands pulling your face flush to his groin as he paints your throat with his release.  His thighs quake and he can just barely register your hands grasping to still him.

He tries so hard to be quiet and maintain that perfect decorum of his, but it’s useless to try.  Not when he’s balls deep in your mouth, not when he knows he’s claimed you from the inside out.  He’s thought of this too many times.  Of how he’d have loved to have you on your knees under his desk back in his office.  You’d suck him just as sweetly as you’ve done now, one hand stroking the base of his cock while the other smooths up and down his leg.  He’d let you get him close– so fucking close. He’d let you get him right on the brink of losing himself and then kick away in his swivel chair and fuck you senseless on the desk.  He wouldn’t even care if the rest of the team could hear the sweet sounds you sing for him.  He’d fill you over and over again until his come leaks from you.  He’d kneel down and eat you clean just so he could fill you all over again.

Every fantasy flashes in his mind as the throbbing bliss tapers away.  This absolutely cannot be the last time he has you.  

It won’t be.

Wesker pulls out slowly, staring down intently to watch every inch slip free.  His thumbs wipe away at your tear tracks before kneeling to your level.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”  He asks as if he hadn’t just put you in an impossible situation and made you think your only way out was to let him fuck your mouth.  He smiles at you, though, try as he might, he can’t quite manage that same wicked smirk he’d given you earlier.  The facade has faded, and he’s back to the same old Captain Wesker who used to hide his smiles at your quips.  The same one who now feels the tiniest pang of guilt at how spooked and used you look.

There's one last thing he needs from this moment. He couldn't possibly let it pass him by knowing he may never have the chance again. And, if he's lucky, you'll understand every unspoken word. 

Wesker leans forward, hands cupping your face to bring you into a kiss that was far from the depravity he'd shown you mere moments ago. Your squeak of shock is swallowed by him, and it's the perfect opportunity to wiggle his tongue into your mouth and explore to his heart's content– pleased to no end when you reciprocate.

“You've always been,” he pants between wet pecks to your lips, “my favorite of the bunch.”  One of your arms loops around his neck, and that’s when it hits him.

Cold steel presses beneath his jaw and he smiles against you, proud beyond measure that you'd pulled one over on him so easily. 

“Still trust me?”  He asks.

“Should I?”  You counter, panting softly against him.  He can see the way doubt blends with belief.  You’re the picture perfect specimen of indecision and he would just love to see your reaction to this…

“Go on.  Pull.”  Wesker murmurs. “Trust your Captain.”

When you make not even so much as a twitch to flinch from what you’d expect to be an exceptionally loud mess, he grasps your hand, finger creeping over yours to direct it onto the trigger.

How peculiar that, much like he’d done, you hadn’t even put it on there.

You look at him with wide eyes for the hundredth time since you found him, suddenly looking much more terrified than when he’d first aimed it at you.

“Wesker, I–”

Click.

You flinch for nothing, and Wesker simply gives you a smug grin as he watches you realize you were never truly in danger.  You run through a variety of emotions.  Anger, betrayal, disbelief, acceptance… 

“What's wrong, my dear?”  Wesker purrs, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger.  “You didn’t think I’d actually kill you, did you?”

The look on your face elicits a deep, amused chuckle. 

“Foolish.  I suppose you’ll need to be made to understand just how deep my appreciation for you goes, hm?”  With his free hand, he removes his gun from your grasp before pushing you slowly onto your back.  Your chest heaves in anticipation, though you lack that deer-in-the-headlights look from earlier.

Good.

Wesker removes his glasses, placing them on your head to rest against your hair.

“Remember,” he whispers, leaning down to nibble at the side of your neck. “Trust your Captain.”

[hoshiina]

pairing: ichikawa reno x gn!reaader

request: hii i love your writing so much abshshsaj you’re a blessing to the fandom<33 can I ask for jealous reno ichikawa?? I feel like he‘d try not to let it show, and get super frustrated as time goes on

notes: reader is v slightly oblivious at the start (?), TY FOR THE REQ its been so long omg im sorry esp considering its rather short, still hope u enjoyed !!

wc: 900

Surely, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Surely, he was just a little irritated today. Surely, he wasn't letting his feelings get the best of him.

Okay, but to be fair, it wasn't even his fault. The fact that you seemed to be close to Haruichi would worry anyone if you think about it. Sweet guy. Smart. Rich as hell. Good looking.

He'd sigh and relax his subconsciously furrowed eyebrows.

It was okay. He trusted your feelings for him. A little Haruichi here and there he'd just have to ignore. He was also too old to be getting jealous. He really wasn't, but that was what he told himself. He'd tell himself that it was just in his head.

However, every time Haruichi went up to talk to you and every time you laughed at something he said the voice in his head got louder and louder. The voice that repeats his worries over and over again as if he hadn’t already thought of all that. It was getting a little harder to tell himself it was just his head.

He'd take a deep breath. In and out. It wasn't bothering him. He was sure it wasn't.

A few days had passed and his next move surprised him most. You were just chatting away with Haruichi while you waited for him by his room one morning so you could head to breakfast together. You were probably just talking about the latest episode of a show you enjoyed, but seeing you with Haruichi first thing in the morning jarred him a little more than expected.

So without a word, he took your hand and pulled you towards him.

“Reno?” you asked, slightly surprised by the sudden action, but you didn't pay much mind to it. “Morning, let's go get breakfast!”

Immediately, he snapped out of it. He let go of your hand and his eyes met yours. You could see the slight dread in his eyes. “I'm so sorry—” he started to say.

“Why?” you asked, a little clueless about the situation. You took his hand this time and you started to walk towards the cafeteria. “I wonder what they have for us today.” Reno didn't have it in him to look Haruichi’s way.

Haruichi’s eyes widened, then he smiled a little. Should've been a little more careful.

It turns out even Reno can get a little jealous from time to time.

However, Reno was letting this get to him. He was nothing short of shocked that he'd act to rashly— as if to take you away. Keep you to himself.

Okay, perhaps he was jealous. Quite jealous in fact. He'd have to accept that. So, what now? What does he do now? He was rather ashamed that he was letting his emotions get the best of him, but he didn't know what to do to stop them— because somewhere deep inside he sincerely wondered if Haruichi was more deserved of your love.

“Reno, are you alright?” you asked. “You look exhausted…”

Without thinking he looked up at you, and the genuine concern in your eyes melted his heart. Perhaps he was overthinking the wrong things. Perhaps it wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

“I’m jealous,” he said to you, avoiding eye contact.

“Jealous? Of who?” you asked.

“Haruichi.”

“Izumo?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you two seem so close.”

“Me?” you asked, finally connecting the dots. Absolutely shocked. It didn’t even occur to you that Reno was one to get jealous, nor had you ever found Haruichi the least bit attractive to piece together how he'd feel. “I'm sorry I didn't realize!”

He shook his head. There was nothing for you to be sorry about.

“Sorry. I do know that Haruichi’s probably a better guy for you,” he started to say and immediately you frowned.

“Reno, why do you think I'm dating you?” you asked.

“No, I don’t mean to doubt you,” he started to say, but nothing seemed to come out right. “Sorry.”

“You think I’m dating you because you asked me out, don’t you?” you asked and his eyes widened. You were probably right. That was most likely the issue. “Reno I like you. Not anyone else. I’m dating you because I’m in love with you. Izumo doesn’t even see me like that for starters, but he could pull up with a million roses one day and I’d still prefer a spare piece of gum you’d give me, Reno.”

You were probably just exaggerating, but that meant the world to him.

“Thank you,” he said, expression soft. “I promise I’ll treasure you.”

That flustered you, but you couldn’t help but grin.

“But this was rather a surprise,” you said. “I didn’t think you were one to get jealous… flustered me a little.”

“I didn’t think I would either,” he said, embarrassed. Or maybe still ashamed.

“No, no,” you said. “It actually made me so happy.”

“Really…”

“Yes. You should just take me away one day.”

He flushed red. He’d remember those words for the years to come and take you away— just as requested.

[gotchibam]

Charjabug and Torracat ko-fi doodle for maggotsandscream!

[sancta-seraphina]

Hi, I hope this isn't too complex a question. What books would you recommend for someone looking to get into angels? I'm looking for anything... lore, other novels to read, comics, whatever you can offer

Oh man, please don't apologize, this is exactly my type of question! Also this post got a bit long.

Obviously, there are tons of references for lore. If you're looking for a basic run-down of angels in the Bible itself, I'm writing a series of posts on that subject specifically, even if updates are few and far between right now (I'm so, so sorry, the ballet eats all of my time):

[Biblically Accurate Angels Part I - Seraphim, Cherubim & Ophanim]

[Biblically Accurate Angels Part II - The Named Angels]

This is because the easiest and most accessible information on angels is in the Bible itself (and hey guess what—you can read the Bible for free online! If you need a translation suggestion, I would go for the ESV bibles, and there's a Catholic edition of the ESV if that's an issue. You could also get the NCB which is what I cited)

If you don't mind chewy literature, then I'd say please read Pseudo-Dionysius' De Coelesti Hierarchia, or St. Thomas Aquinas' Summa Theologica. I cite both of these in my posts on angels since they're rather standard sources of information on them, and they're also where the Catholic church gets its canon from.

A great reference, even if I don't particularly agree with everything stated in it, is Gustav Davidson's A Dictionary of Angels. Most people look at it for angel names, but I'm very interested in his sources, since many of them I've not yet managed to get my little paws on.

I'm not even going to get into my favorite sources of angel lore because this is enough for someone just looking to start. I can do a separate post on those if people want them.

Now. Moving on from lore.

For classic literature, my two obvious recommendations are for The Divine Comedy and Paradise Lost. Over on IG, myself and Jami (@a-thenais) made a little book recommendation post. [You can find it here]. Being the angels nerds we are, everything is pretty on theme and has poetry, scripture, classics... the only thing we didn't do is current angel literature.

So for that, if you want a popular series, than I'd say go take a look at @nicosraf's Angels trilogy, especially since he just announced a new short novel coming out in December!

I personally also like @marsadler's First Creation, although I'd recommend his works mainly for horror fans.

And lastly, if you don't mind waiting/are keeping a list of angel books that are coming out, well, of course I'd suggest my own series [The Divine Tragedy], even if horror isn't everyone's cup of tea. The main series (Holiest, The Harrowing, & Heresiarch) and the series of novellas (The Infernal Apocrypha) are heavy on the horror, but in my last project, the Sepher Metatron, only the third part has horror in it, and the rest of it is more palatable to non-horror fans (the very first part of the book is also fully illustrated)

But if you can read Italian, then I'd also suggest @a-thenais' Nova Apocrypha Vulgata series! These are three novels (Thanatos, Hybris, & Afasia) that she is working towards publishing, and a few additional works too. You can read about them on her tumblr, and I've done multiple fanarts for them. We also tend to consider TDT and NAV 'twins', so if TDT is something you want to read, NAV will also something you'd probably like!

If you want to follow some angel artists, then please check out my pals @ultrainfinitepit (who makes gorgeous angel pins which I hoard) and @helplessavacado, both of whom have their own unique styles and stories as well.