#brigid is also really excited about this

[pioneer-over-c]

Bridal Aideen/Midir duo design! Aideen is taking part in a friendly tournament at the Askran bridal festival to see how much she remembers from her time in knight training. She's accompanied by her own loyal knight Midir, who's ready to wholeheartedly support her in this new venture. The duo is a bow cav because... knights

[scalpelsister]

I want to play sea of thieves more so bad but its so hard solo 😭

[skaldish]

re: the last ask you responded to, I love the description of your relationship with Loki so much! It sounds exactly like what I'm seeking in relationships with deities. I would love to hear more about how you developed a connection that is so playful and fun, and what that looks like in day to day life (whatever you're comfy sharing of course). It just made my heart so happy, like I could feel both of you smiling as I read :)

Well, to be honest, I befriended Loki purely by accident.

Years ago, before life got hard and my creativity was sapped dry, I used to write tons of original fantasy stories. By extension of this, I also made tons of OCs.

One day in 2014, I decided I wanted to create a character who was the epitome of a magnificent bastard—an absolute conniving, rakish, and hilarious sonofabitch—and after months of trial and error I finally struck on an energy.

I was ecstatic to finally get the character down, but as time went on I noticed he seemed to do what characters normally don't do and act outside of my own whims and desires, like he was autonomous. He gave me no inspiration for his story, but tons inspiration for hijinks we'd get up to together (which I would then draw pictures about). He would also sometimes just...leave my head for days or weeks on end before returning. All of it actually weirded me out for a bit, but ultimately the joy of the relationship outweighed my fear of not really knowing what was going on.

But this ignorance couldn't last forever, and three years lafer my character revealed himself as Loki. To say this broke my brain is an understatement; it shattered my concept of reality, and rebuilding it was legitimately one of the hardest, scariest periods of my life.

So it wasn't all playful fun. There was an initiation involved. And the strife it caused nearly convinced me to kick Loki from my life for good.

These days I understand my cluelessness was actually what saved our relationship. There's no way I would have interacted with Loki on the basis of who he is, had I known he was a god. I would have interacted with his role as deity, rather than his personhood.

I guess the trick to fostering relationships like this one, is to interact with deities as people, first and foremost—people who have their own opinions, agency, values, and personalities that aren't beholden to archetypes or societal roles. Interact with them on the basis of who and how they are in relation to you, rather than as deities, archetypes, and/or allegorical devices.

Likewise, avoid slotting yourself in a role in relation to them. You are likewise a person, and not a societal role or archetype. Communicate your genuine thoughts and feelings. Be yourself, however you may be in that moment.

And then see what comes of it.

I did not (and do not) intentionally craft my relationship with Loki to be playful. Our relationship is playful because we play together, and we play together because we enjoy it.

I likewise did not intentionally craft my relationship with Eochu Bres (minor Irish deity, Brigid's husband) around discussions of philosophy and magic. We end up discussing these things because they're topics we're excited by and enjoy talking about together.

While I do have more cordial interactions with deities I don't know very well, even these are still rooted in being genuine. I don't hide how I feel (which is very often "shy and awkward") but this seems preferred over any performances, no matter how lavish.

So yeah. Be yourself, not who you think you need to be to please them.

[the-flame-of-hope]

Hi! I heard that you're also made of fire, which I didn't know people could be in this reality, so this is very exciting. I haven't heard a whole lot about you, but you seem really cool.

Oh, name, right. I'm Brigid.

@theflameeternal

I'm Agnes, nice to meet you. I'm like... an incarnation of The Desolation, if that makes any sense. It's nice to meet another being of flame.

[caeli0306]

chapter 1 of castles crumbling (aka Tales from the Airport Bathroom extended version) now posted!

Chapter 1: Awakenings now up on AO3: READ HERE

I know I said it would be awhile until I started this fic but I lied :) I was inspired and decided to take advantage. I'm so excited (and also kind of nervous?) to share this story with you guys and hope you enjoy reading us much as I've enjoyed writing so far :)

Summary:

Violet should already be dead. People whispered about her weak body and how she would never live up to her family's martial accomplishments. Violet rose above them all, however, fighting and killing to survive the Navarrian Intelligence Agency's brutal BASGIATH training protocol. Now, people whisper about Violet's swift ascension through the NIA's ranks as one of its most valuable operatives and assassins. The whispers don't matter to Violet: She has her own agenda, and it's a dangerous one - finding out what happened to her father.

But one mission changes everything: Suddenly, Violet finds herself in the crosshairs when she stumbles on information Navarre wants buried, and the country she fought for begins to turn on her. Violet knows too much, but she's determined to do what she does best: Survive. Her only hope is the son of the man who they say killed her brother, but their partnership is far from assured. Some grudges run deep, and trust is a currency too valuable to give freely. Xaden realizes Violet may be the key to everything, but with enemies seen and unseen closing in on all sides, the consequences of failure are deadly.

===

“Violet?”

I’m jolted out of my thoughts and return my attention to Ridoc, who has an uncharacteristically stoic look on his face.  

“I have a really bad feeling about this.” He scratches the back of his head. “Promise me you’ll call if it goes south.”

I don’t deserve my squad. And that’s all the more reason that I can’t let him, or anyone else, near this mission. If things go wrong – if my slight treason turns into not-so-slight treason – then I don’t want to bring any of them down with me. I’d rather die than drag them into my problems. I let my mask slip for a moment, patting Ridoc’s arm reassuringly.

“I promise I’ll be careful.”

He rolls his eyes, but that mischievous spark returns to his eyes. “Bullshit. Danger is your middle name, Sorrengail.”

“Actually, it's Brigid,” I quip with a grin. 

He punches me lightly in the arm. “Of course it is.”

[beetlebethwrites]

hi hi! first of all I want to state how much I adore your IF so far, I haven't found many IF that are purely slice of life and I am loving it ❤️ 😍 💖 second! do you have any recommendations for IFs? I've just started moving away from the CoG forums and the content here on tumblr is just 🤌 but I'm not too sure where to start? tysm 😊

I mean, I have so many recommendations tbqh. It's a hell of a list and hopefully, I haven't forgotten anyone by the end. I would say that if you've been around for a hot minute you probably know most of these but I'm old and rarely see new stuff atm because I'm a busy bean so...

Recs under the cut;

@northern-passage is such an easy recommendation for me. I'm not super into your more 'classic' fantasy as a genre but Kit has really built up their characters to be something special. The concept of the hunter is a great one and the branching Kit does is insane. I'm so interested to see where it goes and also ready for it to destroy me emotionally.

I haven't played @speakergame in a little while but the cosy vibes I try to get into YLAF are also here. It's not slice of life but it's similar to that with a heap of supernatural stirred in. I'm also excited for @partiallystarsif, which promises to be a game that I've been wishing someone would write.

Project Hadea by @nyehilismwriting is one of the most top tier sci-fi I've read in a while. It has a great MC, a badass partner in Nash and also BUGS. Again, I'm super looking forward to seeing what happens in the next chapter after that cliffhanger. Shit is about to hit the fan and I am here for it.

@if-eventhorizon is written by actual love of my life Brigid. Event Horizon is your pretty typical crew in space doing stuff they shouldn't be kind of sci-fi and I adore it! Can't wait to find out what everyone has done in their past to be there and unravel the situation. Love it! Brigid is also an incredibly talented artist, also writes @if-closedloop and...

@if-lostbirds is again written by Brigid, and although they profess post-apocalyptic Western sci-fi to be niche, I whole heartedly disagree. I adore the writing in this one, they really did something there and I think everyone will get something out of this one. If you're looking for something a little different with fewer (but super meaningful) choices then this is for you! Also I did convince them to put the big worm back into it so... worm.

For someone who would say she doesn't like a western, @larkin-if is also a bit of me. It's got vampires and cool character dynamics between the Preacher (MC) and their father figure Wyatt. Not to mention the ROs are all really cool. I'm excited to meet Ace in the future but it's the whole plot of attempting to hide your true identity that really hooked me in.

@bodycountgame is currently on a little bit of a hiatus because Nell is super busy with real life 😷 but it's still a stand out fave for me, undoubtedly worth the wait. If you want something that's campy, written in proper British dialect and is basically love island with a hell of a twist then this is for you! I can't recommend body count enough, it's what got me moved way from CoG games and into this little community we have!

@thistooshallpass-if is an IF with some of my favourite characters (not hurt by the fact that thyme is also one of my fave people!) I can't wait to see where it goes as I've been promised angst and knowing them I have no doubt! I'm also mega excited for @writingnights because different takes on supernatural creatures is always fun to me.

When Twilight Strikes by @evertidings is popular for a reason. I'm a few chapters behind but just writing about it has made me want to sit down and catch up! Kristi's characters are fun and feel like people to me with their real quirks, which is always something I enjoy. I can't wait to solve the mystery with this one.

@attollogame is a pretty hard one to describe to me so I'd say just play it? The writing and lore surrounding it is so so solid. It's all pretty much just a vibe, and a good one at that. I am not up to date at all but everyone should be better than me and read it!

Golden by @milaswriting is amazing! It's a supernatural romance game and you can just tell that Mila cares so much about the characters she writes, it really comes through in her writing. She's also over at @milaswrittenworld and I'd encourage a follow all around because she is just a really lovely gem of a person.

I haven't read @ofna in a little while but I absolutely adored what I did read (god knows how many updates ago it was). The writing is amazing and, again, I can't wait to get to solve the mystery 👀

I've undoubtedly forgotten so many but these are ones that come to my covid addled mind 😅 I hope this is a good starting place for you, anon 💛

[wander-over-the-words]

BioFluff Week 2022 Fic #7

Title: It’s Not All Sunshine and Rainbows

Prompt: Free Day/Surface

Summary: The one where Eleanor is terrified of the weather, Sinclair realises he has a blip of paternal instinct, and Delta is really good at Trouble.

Characters: Eleanor Lamb, Subject Delta, Augustus Sinclair; mentions of Brigid Tenenbaum, Grace Holloway, Stanley Poole, Sofia Lamb, Amir, Splicers, Little Sisters.

Pairing: some Augustus Sinclair/Subject Delta, but it’s mainly family fluff between Eleanor and her dad and the dude she’s taking as a father figure.

Warnings: depictions of natural disasters; mentions of drowning, death, violence.

Notes: Final submission for BioFluff Week, with an answer to the specific prompt ‘Surface’! I’ve always enjoyed the notion that while Eleanor would be fascinated by weather on the surface, she’d be shit-terrified of some of the more intense examples - like tornadoes! So, here’s Eleanor experiencing her first tornado. Extra thing to say: I put a stupid amount of time, research and effort into plotting their goddamn board game nngrng.

All material belongs to Irrational Games.

Fic also available on AO3.

…

Eleanor sits on the back porch as she half-listens to the radio and half-watches Delta mill about the garden, stooping low to rip up the weeds that have accumulated during Sinclair’s absence from the home. She’d overheard Sinclair saying he might need to hire back a gardener to take a crack at his gardens, but Delta had insisted he would do it; by all accounts, he seems to be enjoying the work.

Sinclair is helping in a more idle fashion by steering a wheelbarrow, following Delta in an attempt at feeling useful, so Delta has a place to toss the weeds and dead grass.

“Looks like you’re makin’ a real dent in the damage old age has done to this yard, pumpkin,” Sinclair says, smiling as he surveys Delta’s work; at least a quarter of the garden is done. “Mighta been that you were a real good gardener in a past life!”

Delta lets out a thoughtful rumble to reply to him.

Sinclair bobs his head as he puts his hands to his hips, looking over at the supplies he’d gone into town for, namely the bag of topsoil waiting for them.

“Well, the plan is: if we manage to finish this up today, we can lay some o’ that down too,” Sinclair says, and his wording has Delta looking up from his work, then over at the bag as well, “an’ then we might just start bein’ able to grow things out here again. Give the place some of its former beauty.”

Delta glances toward him, then stands up from his work and starts making his way over to the bag of topsoil. He stoops to pick it up and carries it back to Sinclair, cradles it in one arm to free up a hand and points to a logo on the bag, presumably belonging to the company or store; it’s of three roses bunched up together from a birdseye view, encircled by their own conjoined stems. Delta then points down at the lawn.

“Hm?” Sinclair peers at the logo. “Oh.” He shrugs with a smile. “Well, I don’t see why not. They’re not the kind o’ flower that used to grow back here, but they’ll do jus’ fine in prettyin’ up the place. It’s your call this time, chief - as I said before,” he gestures to himself, “mi casa,” he gestures to Delta, “es tu casa. Ain’t just my yard anymore, is it? Our yard now.”

Delta lets out a delighted warble, his shoulders lifting to form body language that just screams excitement, and he must be slightly overwhelmed by his own emotions because he suddenly reaches out and wraps an arm around Sinclair, pulling him into a hug.

Sinclair is moved so quickly that he loses his footing, and the only reason he doesn’t fall face-first to the recently-cleaned yard is due to being pressed up against the brick wall that is Delta’s torso.

He lets out a choked “Oof!” as he hits it, the side of his face all squished up against Delta’s sternum, and then he chuckles and slips a hand between them.

“As always, I’m happy that you’re happy, chief, but, uh, let’s hold off on squeezin’ the stuffin’ outta me, huh?”

Delta jolts and reminds himself of his own strength, then eases up the hug, staring down at Augustus with a no doubt worried gaze, but his worries are relieved when Sinclair just smiles and leans his head against Delta’s chest more comfortably, patting it twice to tell him it’s okay.

From where she sits, Eleanor smiles.

She hadn’t been sure about Augustus when Tenenbaum had first mentioned she would get him to escort Delta down to Persephone - she’d heard about him from Aunt Grace, Stanley and Mother, and knew he wasn’t the trustworthy sort, more of the selfish kind - but watching him through Father’s eyes started to change her mind, and seeing them interact outside of Rapture does so even more. He makes Father happy and safe at least, and that’s all she can really ask of him.

She gives a soft chortle, then looks to the radio as the song that had been playing finally slows to an end, and she listens for what the announcer pair have to say next - which turns out to be the weather, something that Eleanor finds an apparently-odd amount of joy in listening to. But she does find it so interesting, how people just…find out what weather there will be tomorrow, when they tell her there will be rain - and then there is!

“And here’s something important, folks,” the man says, “we’re gettin’ reports of a tornado watch being put out, for the following counties to take note of -”

Eleanor turns her head to look at her pair of guardians. “Augustus! Father!”

Sinclair pulls away from Delta like he’d forgotten she was there, looking over at her wide-eyed, and Delta lets out a soft hum of curiosity to let her know she has his attention.

She ushers them over and they join her just as she hears the man say “Morgan County,” - which is the very county their dear Madison is head of.

“What was that about?” Sinclair asks, frowning at the radio.

Eleanor looks up at him, her turn to stare wide-eyed. “They…said that there’s to be a tornado watch.”

“Oh.” Sinclair’s frown lets up and he lifts his eyebrows. “Well, then.”

“What does that mean?” Eleanor asks, feeling her stomach flip.

Sinclair nods to the radio. “What that means, sweetie pie, is that that nice man there is informin’ us that a tornado could be on the way.”

Eleanor swears, she can feel her face pale.

She recalls seeing them in Amir’s book about the surface: the giant, swirling tubes of wind and clouds that people are supposed to seek shelter from because tornadoes do nothing but destroy everything around them.

Wind has been something Eleanor’s become completely fascinated with since they’d gotten out of Rapture; she’d happily stood outside on a windy day, laughing as her hair and the collar of her blouse had been blown about and her skirt had been flung around her knees, despite the chill the wind had brought with it. She remembers being little, down in Rapture, thinking about what wind must have felt like, but despite her urge to feel it, she’d had no such wishes with natural disasters. She’d understood as soon as she’d seen the image in Amir’s book that they weren’t safe, they weren’t something she should look forward to - in fact, they were something she should fear.

And by God, she does.

“If that’s the case, then…then we should evacuate, shouldn’t we?” Eleanor asks, already rearing to stand and run to wherever Augustus directs her.

“No, no,” Sinclair nonchalantly scratches his chin, looking up at the sky, “not yet. It’s still a bright day out,” he holds out a hand, “and I ain’t feelin’ a single drop comin’ from the sky. Mm - watches are only called out for when the weather’s right for a tornado to form.” He waves a hand casually. “But we’ve had watches in the past where nothin’ happened at all, so I wouldn’t go frettin’ about anythin’ just yet.”

“Yet…” Eleanor mutters, staring into space.

He must miss her tone because he hums, still nonchalant, then casts his gaze elsewhere.

“That bein’ said - might not be a bad idea to go an’ check the shelter’s still standin’ tall an’ strong. Reckon it’d be best to go and do that right now.”

He starts making his way to the other side of the house, where the cellar doors are.

Delta stoops to place the bag of topsoil down on the porch beside Eleanor, then calls out a note of whalesong to let Sinclair know he’ll come with him to help, and Sinclair thanks him as they walk together.

Eleanor watches them go, then turns to look at the pile of weeds and blades of dead grass in the wheelbarrow as a gust of wind blows through the air, making her hair tickle her chin and the short sleeves of her blouse shuffle about on her arms, her skirt brushing the side of her leg. It captures a few strands of grass and weeds and sends them floating back onto the lawn her father had ripped them from.

Such a thing would usually make her smile, but now - she brings her knees to her chest and hugs them as she hides her chin against them, staring worriedly as the wind continues to blow.

…

The morning has faded into the afternoon and the afternoon into evening, and the entire time, Eleanor has kept glancing at the sky and watching the wind, even after Augustus and Father had decided they were finished with their work for today; she didn’t watch them put down that topsoil, since her nerves had gotten to her when another soft gust of wind had blown some of the dead grass from the wheelbarrow, and she’d nervously asked Sinclair if they were finished now - ‘just curious’, of course, and not at all because she didn’t want them or herself to be out here anymore, where it wasn’t safe.

When Sinclair had oh-so casually said no, they’d be layering the soil on now, and he’d purchase for Delta the needed supplies to grow roses tomorrow, Eleanor had caved and gone inside, leaving the radio outside so Sinclair and Delta could hear when the radio people told them a tornado was coming and they could die.

She’d situated herself with a book to try and get her mind off things, but she’d found herself easily looking up, toward the windows, every few minutes, watching nervously as one of the trees just outside their fence swayed in the wind - and her blood had turned to ice when she noticed the drops of rain hitting the window.

Sinclair and Delta had apparently gotten to finish their yardwork before the rain got heavier and the sky started to darken (and is it dark because it’s the evening, or is it dark because of a tornado? She’s still learning these things), and now they’re here with her. Sinclair is doing a crossword in the newspaper on the couch beside her and Delta is seated on the floor (he can’t sit with them on the couch; his suit’s too heavy for Sinclair’s furniture…as they’ve already discovered with one of the poor beds upstairs), doing a jigsaw puzzle that is technically for children (it’d been the only kind that had pieces big enough for his hands).

Eleanor is white-knuckling the book in her hands as she watches the rain outside. She feels sick to her stomach - isn’t rain something that happens during tornadoes? Sinclair had said that, hadn’t he? That it wasn’t raining earlier so they didn’t have to worry about tornadoes?

Well, it’s raining now, so why isn’t he worried? He’s just sitting there, tapping a pen against his cheek as he ponders a crossword puzzle. Why isn’t he concerned about this?

Eleanor looks back down at her book and realises she has no idea what’s happening in the story or where she even left off, so it’s no longer a worthy attempt at a distraction. She shuts it without even marking her page and instead hurriedly turns the television on and finds something that will distract her.

There’s an episode of a show Eleanor enjoys - Doctor Who, it’s called - and she settles on that; she missed the beginning, but she finds she doesn’t mind all that much.

As she fixes her gaze on it, Eleanor squeezes fistfuls of the leather of Sinclair’s couch, slick beneath her sweaty palms. She tries desperately to keep her attention on the TV, like Delta is now doing (he’s found television as fascinating as she has, and even Sinclair had been surprised to find people on the surface had figured out how to make televisions broadcast in colour), but the television is unfortunately situated right in front of one of the tall windows in the living room, so her eyes keep sliding to check the skies for plumes of wind.

Stop looking, she tells herself as she looks at the TV, with the TARDIS and the Doctor and everything she likes about this show, stop looking, Augustus will tell you when it isn’t safe.

They’re a good fifteen minutes or so into the episode when the audio cuts out, the Doctor’s talking replaced by a monotone beep, and then he disappears from the screen and instead, the television projects a blue background, with text that makes her blood go cold all over again.

TORNADO WARNING is the first thing she sees.

“What’s happening to the screen?” Eleanor asks, even though it’s a silly question when the answer is right in front of her, when she knows what this means.

“Yer better off askin’ somebody else,” Sinclair says, with an almost sarcastic chortle, not looking up from his newspaper as he writes an answer into his crossword. “Now, I know you’re taken with this particular program, honey, but I just find it crazier than a box o’ frogs.”

Delta grunts to say no and he reaches over, tapping at Sinclair’s leg.

“Hm?” Sinclair looks at him, then to the screen. When he sees it, he removes his glasses and frowns.

“The National Weather Service,” says a man’s voice, as monotone as the beep, “has issued a tornado warning for the following counties -”

“Huh,” Sinclair says, and he waits until they hear Morgan County before he bobs his head, eyebrows raised. “Well…that’s not good, is it?”

“Why? Why isn’t it good?” Eleanor asks; again, she doesn’t need to, but Sinclair is the expert here. Neither she nor Father have experienced storms (if Father has - before he was a Big Daddy - then he doesn’t remember them).

Sinclair nods slowly to himself, robotically setting his folded newspaper down beside him and placing the pen on top.

“That, honey, that’s a sign that we should start considerin’ the idea of movin’ down into the shelter.”

“Then…Then there is a tornado coming?” Eleanor continues with the obvious questions.

“Most probably. Lettin’ out a warnin’ means they’ve spotted one.” He scratches his chin and looks curiously at the TV. “Only hope is that this is the first one they’ve let out, and they haven’t jus’ been throwin’ their concerns into the wind, as it were.”

Eleanor eyes widen as a shot of guilt hurts her heart; why had she bothered with the book to distract her? Why hadn’t she gone straight for the television? She would’ve known sooner that something was -

A siren blares from outside, echoing through town, and she doesn’t need to ask anymore silly questions to know what it means, especially not when Sinclair and Delta whip around to look outside, and Sinclair’s eyes have widened.

“And that right there,” Sinclair says quickly, standing up from the couch, “that’s our ticket to move. C’mon, c’mon! Everybody, up!”

Eleanor’s breath immediately picks up, her heart pounding against her ribs; the last time she felt panic this quickly was when she’d realised Mother was going to try and drown them with Persephone’s explosives, and she finds herself rooted to the spot as Sinclair and Delta move around her, momentarily blocking her view of the TV with its blue screen and TORNADO WARNING still splayed out -

There comes a shout of whalesong and her arm is captured in Delta’s hand, and Eleanor gasps and looks up at him as he tugs as gently but as urgently as he can to coax her into getting up.

“Eleanor! C’mon, now!” Sinclair calls from the dining room behind them, stopped on his way to the basement.

Eleanor does as she’s told and quickly gets up, looking back at their belongings - Sinclair’s newspaper and pen, Delta’s puzzle, and the television remote she’d tossed aside - and she lets Delta lead her into following Sinclair to the back of the house, near the glass doors to the garden, to the door leading to the basement.

Sinclair reaches it first and opens it and he and Delta usher for Eleanor to go first; she again does as she’s told and passes by them.

When Delta approaches, he freezes, looks at the size of the doorway, then motions to Sinclair to go ahead; when Sinclair looks afraid, he hastily rectifies it with hand gestures that he’s going to go around, to the other doors outside, where he’ll fit better, and not to worry because he’ll be quick.

Sinclair nods and Delta rushes to carry out his plan.

From where she stands midway down the stairs, Eleanor sees Delta go and immediately calls out, panicked, “Father! Father, what’re you doing?!”

“Ah - he’s just goin’ around to the other side,” Sinclair replies as he slips in and slams the door shut, fingers shaking slightly as he hurries to lock the door - latch, key and all. “It’d take longer for him to try an’ squeeze through this doorway, he fits better goin’ through the other entrance.”

Right on cue, the metal doors that point to the sky are flung open, and Eleanor hurries down the stairs in time to turn the corner and see Delta come barreling down his own short set of stairs and turning to slam the doors shut behind him.

Though it does barely anything to lift the weight from her chest, Eleanor breathes a sigh of relief, and Sinclair runs by her to help Delta pull the latches across the doors to lock them tight. With the closing of those doors, the basement goes dark, and Delta’s helmet lights up.

The two step back from their work, Sinclair panting lightly and Delta observing the doors with a locked-up, nervous air about him, as the rain pelts against the metal, making Eleanor’s brow furrow worriedly.

“Well,” Sinclair says in the silence, “drama’s over with - it looks like we’re gonna be spendin’ a minute down here. Go ahead an’ point your lamp this way, chief - I’ll get the lights. There’s a switch somewhere around here…”

Wiping rain droplets from his porthole, Delta does as he’s told and turns to face Sinclair, who moves over to the opposite wall to locate the switch.

There comes a click and the lights come on, and it’s only a minor comfort for Eleanor, who’s fixated on the sounds of the storm outside, still standing in the middle of the room and staring at the locked cellar doors.

“There, now. That’s better,” Sinclair says.

He turns to go over to the cupboard on the far side of the room, passing by the cleaned-out wheelbarrow he and Delta had been using earlier and kneeling to open one of the cupboard’s doors.

“Alrighty - I packed up some things down here that’ll help pass the time until that storm blows over.” He stands back up to show them the small pile of flat boxes he’s got. “We got board games, some word puzzles - collected a couple of your jigsaw puzzles, kid. Anyone got a…preference?”

Eleanor barely hears Sinclair talk; she’s looking up at the ceiling, listening as the rain pelts down outside, and another shot of ice goes through her veins when she hears the rumble of thunder.

She’s already experienced one thunderstorm since coming to the surface, and ironically, she’d anxiously asked Sinclair if that meant a tornado was coming because the two examples of bad weather had fused together in her mind and she hadn’t known they’d get a warning about the latter. She remembers Sinclair chuckling like she was silly and assuring her no, it just meant they were gonna be having some bad weather.

Well - this is certainly ‘bad weather’. The storm has gotten worse, she can hear it; the rain hits harder against the doors, the wind gets louder, the thunder draws closer.

(And that means the tornado’s getting nearer to them, doesn’t it? That means…That means it’s going to hit them, and the house will be destroyed, and they could end up -)

“Eleanor?”

She feels a poke to her arm.

“Hm?” She looks at Sinclair, then at Delta, whose finger still hovers over where he’d poked her bicep.

Delta lets out a curious little noise as Sinclair motions to the pile of boxes in his hands.

“You got anythin’ in mind you wanna do?” Sinclair asks.

Not be in the middle of a tornado.

“Oh. Um.” Eleanor blinks once, she hadn’t even been listening to any of the options. “Anything is…fine - Um. Did you…say you have Trouble?”

Sinclair bobs his head once in approval and slides the chosen game from the middle of the pile, carefully balancing the rest on his arm as he turns to kneel back down.

“Trouble, then,” he says.

He puts the rest of the games back, then shuts the cupboard and brings the Trouble board game over to the opposite side of the room, where he motions for them to join him.

With another worried glance at the ceiling, Eleanor follows them over to the wall, where they sit, Eleanor with her back to the brick and her knees drawn up, Sinclair to her left and Delta to her right, with one leg stretched out and the other bent to avoid Eleanor’s personal bubble.

(Are they safest here? Is that why Sinclair had them move here? Is this safe?)

Crossing his legs to get comfortable, Sinclair slides the box’s lid off and brings out the board, setting it down in the middle of them.

“Got a preference for colour?” Sinclair asks.

“Huh? Oh.” Eleanor looks down at the board, then directs her gaze to the metal doors as she replies, “Yellow is fine.”

“Mm-hm. And what about you, chief?”

Delta points out the blue pegs, so Sinclair nods and turns the board so the yellow pieces are in front of Eleanor, the blue are in front of Delta, and the green are in front of himself.

“I’ll go on ahead an’ be green, then,” he says, then gestures to Eleanor. “Ladies first - we go ‘round clockwise, so that’ll mean I’ll be next, then you, pumpkin pie.”

Delta grunts in the affirmative and Eleanor gives a half-hearted, tiny hum of agreement.

(She can just picture it now: the giant tower of wind invading the town, ripping apart everything in its wake, tearing roofs off buildings and sending glass flying…All the people she’s met since they arrived, the workers in the shops they’ve gone to…In the grocery store, with all the new food Eleanor had wanted to try and bring home for Father to try, and the boutique, where that kind lady had helped her find nice clothes because Augustus had had no idea what he was doing in the women’s section…the gardening store where the patient man had answered Eleanor’s questions about sunlight and bumblebees -)

“Eleanor?”

Eleanor looks to Sinclair.

“You’re goin’ first,” he says, raising an eyebrow with a small, awkward chuckle. “Can’t leave the startin’ line until you do. You alright, honey?”

Delta lets out another curious noise as he sets a hand on Eleanor’s shoulder, leaning forward to question her.

Eleanor forces a smile as she nods; a part of her wants to tell them - especially Father - how frightened she is, but there’re memories creeping in the back of her mind, memories of being small and scared of the dark, of asking Mother to check under her bed, of Mother telling her she was better than this. She’d been worried about the dark when living with Aunt Grace as well, but by then, she’d learned not to tell adults she was afraid.

And obviously, there’s nothing to be scared of here because Augustus isn’t scared - he’s happily sitting there, playing a goddamn board game like there isn’t a death spiral on its way, and he knows about these things. So, if Augustus isn’t scared, then she has no reason to be either.

“Of course,” she says. “I’m perfectly fine.”

She leans forward to press down on the plastic popper in the middle of the board, making the die inside jump and roll to a new number. She gets a six, and Sinclair gives a long, impressed whistle.

“Lady Luck appears to be on your side already, so it seems,” he says as Eleanor picks up one of her pegs and places it on the left side of the first two open places in front of her home base. “Probably get that from your daddy, he’s always unfathomably lucky the first few turns, so says our card games back on the train.”

Delta shrugs.

Eleanor goes to hit the popper again, only to jump and suck in a breath when a shot of thunder cuts through the sounds of pelting rain. She swallows back the jolt of panic going through her, taking a moment to try and calm the pounding of her heart, then she hits the popper and gets a three.

She moves her piece accordingly, then looks to the metal doors and places her hands down on the floor either side of her as Sinclair takes his turn and fails to get a six and then looks up to ask Delta if he’d like Sinclair to handle his turns for him, to avoid damaging the popper or the pegs by accident.

Her fingers curl against the wooden floor, dragging her nails across the boards, as she watches the metal doors, and she swears she sees them shake -

(There’s no way the tornado hasn’t hit Madison by now, just listen to the weather howl out there. Any time now, she knows it, they’re going to hear the crashing of buildings being destroyed, of cars being flung - Augustus left his car outside, should they have moved it? He loves that car, shouldn’t they have tried to protect it or something? She doesn’t know. He keeps a sheet tied over it to protect it from damages, but that won’t do anything if the tornado picks it up and flings it - shouldn’t they have done something else? And if it’s flung, then…then will it hit the house? Hell, if the tornado’s close enough to throw Sinclair’s car, it’s close enough to hit the house itself, and they might be -)

It’s her turn again, and she has to take her eyes off the doors to hit the popper and roll a one, and she moves her piece before Sinclair tries for a six and fails again.

He rolls for Delta and sighs as he moves one of Delta’s pegs out of home base for him.

“Well,” Sinclair says, all fake-grumpy as he hits the popper. “Seems like I’m the only one around here who Lady Luck’s decided not to lean upon.”

Delta gets a four, and Sinclair moves his piece for him, and Delta leans over and pats Sinclair’s knee.

“Oh, now, don’t you play the sympathetic silver medal, chief,” Sinclair says. “‘Nother thing I recall from our games o’ War and Old Maid is that you, sir, enjoy the art of winnin’ a little too much.”

Betraying his own smugness, Delta’s shoulders lift happily, and Sinclair scoffs.

“Well. Young Eleanor’s still on the board with ya, so you go ahead an’ put those shoulders down.”

Eleanor looks at him when she hears her name and forces a wide smile and a hum of amusement -

(The car will come flying any minute now, soaring through the rain -)

She takes her turn, gets a four, and moves her piece to one over from Sinclair’s home base.

Sinclair gives a snide chuckle. “Better keep your eye on that piece o’ yours, honey, cause I might be just about to snatch it up.”

He hits the popper.

“Or not,” he says lamely, frowning at the three that comes up.

Delta chortles, and Sinclair directs that frown his way, making a show of narrowing his eyes at him for the sake of the joke.

“Oh, hush, now. Your turn.”

(If the tornado hits the house, it will be destroyed, won’t it? This beautiful house Augustus has owned for years, wrecked in seconds. And if it hits the house, will they be safe here? They can’t be, surely; if the tornado’s strong enough to destroy the house, to destroy the town - the boutique, the crafts store, the grocery store -)

The pop of plastic under Sinclair’s hand makes Eleanor give a small jump and look down at the board to find him moving Delta’s piece five places.

Eleanor robotically takes her turn and gets a two, which takes her further away from the danger of getting caught by Sinclair’s piece leaving home base. She goes back to staring at the doors, hugging her knees again and digging her fingers into her own leg.

Sinclair leans over and hits the popper for his own turn, then lets out a triumphant laugh as he finally gets that six. He moves one of his green pegs out of home base, then takes his second roll and gets a one, to which he shrugs and casually moves his peg.

And then comes Delta’s turn, which turns up another six, and Delta and Sinclair exchange a look as they realise where that first peg will land.

“Now - Now, pumpkin pie, darlin’, sugarplum,” Sinclair says, holding out a calming hand, “let’s think about who you’re gonna hurt if you move that first piece o’ yours. You can always fetch another one o’ your soldiers from the barracks.”

Delta makes a show of rubbing the bottom of his porthole with a curled finger, where his chin should be, as he thinks about it, then he relents, shrugs and gestures for Sinclair to get another one of his pieces out.

To continue the joke, Sinclair wipes his hand across his forehead and gets one of Delta’s pegs out of home base for him, and then he hits the popper for Delta’s second roll - and comes up with another six.

Delta immediately belts out a laugh and Sinclair’s face falls; Eleanor looks away from the doors at the sound of her father’s delight and looks down at the board.

“Uh - well, the…obvious move now is, ah, you’re gonna wanna move your, uh, new soldier on his way, so let’s just, uh…” Sinclair says, reaching for the peg that had just escaped Delta’s home base.

Delta holds up a finger to stop him, lets out a few rhythmic hums in a mimicry of the classic “Ah, ah, ahh,” then wags that finger and gestures to the other blue peg.

“You wanna move that one?” Sinclair ask, incredulous, then perks up a little as he plucks Delta’s first peg from the board. “Oh, well, look at that, sport - turns out, you actually went an’ rolled a five this turn, so - accordin’ to some basic math and the rules of the game - you move right here.”

He moves it to the spot next to his lone green peg.

Delta lets out a long groan, defiant, and holds up six fingers.

“Uh, no, see, pumpkin - much as I hate to say these words - that’s where you’re wrong.” Sinclair puts his glasses on and peers at the die. “That’s definitely a five right there. Eleanor, you see a five, don’tcha?”

For even a moment, Eleanor’s mind is taken from the storm outside and she looks at him with a sheepish smile, refusing to answer, with an apology in her stare and her furrowed brow.

Delta lets out a growl and points down at the board to tell Sinclair to play it properly.

“Ahh, fine. You got me,” Sinclair says grumpily as he pulls off his glasses, picks up Delta’s piece, then snatches up his own piece and puts it back in his home base. He places Delta’s peg down where his had been.

Delta gives a satisfied grunt.

“Personally, I can’t believe you’d go an’ treat your sweetheart in such a fashion,” Sinclair mutters, tilting his head away to point his nose in the air, all fake-offended. “Where’s that kindness that won me over in the first place, huh?”

Delta gives a dragged-out rumble and reaches over to give Sinclair’s leg a little push to tell him not to be silly.

“It’s fine, I guess.” Sinclair looks to Eleanor. “Eleanor can avenge me.”

Eleanor gives a soft laugh, genuinely amused - and then crash goes the thunder, the rain keeps pelting down on the doors, and Eleanor is back out of her comfort zone -

(- then a couple of metal doors won’t be a match for it. It’ll…get in here and they’ll be…sucked up into it…And she remembers Amir’s book, telling her…how many people die to these things a year…)

Another nudge to her arm.

“Your turn, honey,” Sinclair says with a smile.

She forces a smile back and hits the popper, then moves her piece three spaces.

Sinclair rolls for his own turn -

(Nobody survives a tornado, right? What had the book said? She doesn’t remember. Is it possible to survive? No. No, she doesn’t think so. She doesn’t remember what the book had said, but she doesn’t think so. How can someone survive one of those things? They can’t -)

Crash goes the thunder, the rain pelts down, the wind howls -

“Well…I’m just gonna go ahead an’ come out an’ say it,” Sinclair says bluntly.

Eleanor looks at him wide-eyed, expecting him to announce they aren’t safe here anymore, the storm is going to come and they’re going to be whisked away -

“But I’m startin’ to theorise that you’re cheatin’, sport.” He stares down at the six on the die, then jabs a finger Delta’s way, barely hiding his smirk as he amuses himself. “I know I recognised your tendency ta be lucky in these games, but that luck’s gotta run out. I reckon that you’ve been sneakin’ a use of Telekinesis on this board, now, haven’t you?”

Delta waves a hand to bat away Sinclair’s accusations, then holds up his hands to show he’s not doing anything.

“Hmmmm - if you say so.” Sinclair relents, hand hovering over the board as he awaits Delta’s choice in which piece to move. “But I’ve got an eye on you, chief.”

Eleanor stares hard at Sinclair. Why isn’t he afraid? Isn’t he listening to what’s going on out there? It’s been at least twenty years since he moved to Rapture - in that time, hasn’t he…forgotten anything about living on the surface? Acquired any fears about things that should be normal up here?

(If the tornado is strong enough to pick up houses and cars, then…it can pick up Father, can’t it? He’s heavy enough to break a bed, but…but the tornado’s stronger than that, so it could pick him up. So if those doors don’t hold, if they fly open, then Father could be dragged out. And if he can get sucked up, then no doubt Augustus can too. And she weighs less than both of them, so she’ll go right with them. How long do these things take to go by? How long do they need to survive down here? When can she officially say they’re in the clear? Where is the time limit? She just wants this to end -)

“Eleanor?” Sinclair says, raising an eyebrow as he notices her staring at him. He checks over his shoulder in case she’s actually looking at something over there, then turns back. “You alright?”

Eleanor looks at him, sucks in a breath through her nose as she replies shortly, “Yes,” and then pushes the popper, then reaches out to move her peg the one space she earned -

A crash of lightning, the room goes black - Eleanor and Delta let out a gasp each, and Eleanor pushes her fingertips into the floor on either side of her as if she assumed the floor would disappear along with the light, her heart leaping into her throat.

Delta’s helmet lights come on and Sinclair gets up from the floor.

“I thought this might happen. Luckily, I packed some flashlights down here. Chief, gimme a hand, would ya?”

Delta gets up to position his lights where Sinclair needs them, while Eleanor desperately tries to keep herself from hyperventilating, feeling the backs of her eyes start to sting.

(This is it, isn’t it? This is it. The tornado’s close enough to cut the power, the house will be next -)

Her fingertips hurt from how hard she pushes them into the floorboards, trying to find some stability, to help her stay calm, as her lip quivers and tears blur her vision -

(- and then them, and she doesn’t want Father to die, she doesn’t want Augustus to die, she doesn’t want to die -)

“There we are,” Sinclair says, wandering back over, shining a torch over Eleanor’s head to avoid blinding her.

It’s still dark enough that Delta’s helmet lights remain on (and those lights are momentarily pointed toward the cellar doors as Delta takes a moment to watch them), even as he and Sinclair set about switching on the four torches they return with; Eleanor’s fingers curl into fists, palms wet with sweat as she breathes deep through her nose, and her tears begin to spill.

(She swears, she sees the door shake, so they’re about to burst open, this is it, this is it -)

They position the torches down so they can still see the game board, then Sinclair’s saying it’s still her -

(This is it, this is it, this is it, this is it -)

“Eleanor?”

(This is it, this is it, this is it, this is it -)

“Eleanor. Honey, what’s wrong?”

(This is it, this is it, this is it, this is it -)

There comes quick movement from her right as Delta shifts forward, towards her, and his large hand cups the back of her head as he rumbles to her, trying to ask what’s wrong, and Sinclair is staring at her, brow furrowed, and the dam finally bursts -

(This is it -)

Eleanor shakes her head fervently.

“No, no - I’m not okay! I want this to be over…!” Eleanor exclaims, then slaps her hands over her ears and ducks down against her knees. “I-I-I lied - I-I…I’m scared!”

Immediately, Delta’s arms are flung around her; he moves her as gently but as quickly as he can, sliding her across the floor to bring her to him, to situate her between his legs so he can hold her against his chest in a protective embrace.

She turns her head to hide her face in his chest, squeezing her eyes shut and holding onto him for dear life as one of his hands passes over her hair, stroking it as he warbles quietly to soothe her.

“Oh,” Sinclair says, unsure of what to say or do in this situation; he looks from Delta to her and back again, then awkwardly gets to his knees as he moves a little closer. “Oh - Uh - N-Now, it’s okay, honey, it’s alright. You’re gonna be just fine, you’ll see.”

Eleanor’s face scrunches up as she resists the urge to cry anymore, desperately hiding her face in Delta’s chest.

“That storm outside, it’s nothin’ compared to others we’ve had in the past! Just a little one, I swear it,” Sinclair adds.

Eleanor adamantly shakes her head; there are no little ones, all tornadoes are dangerous, she knows that, she knows that (she thinks), he’s just saying that so she’ll stop being silly.

As if it heard him, the weather decides to throw more at them - literally, as the wind howls and there comes clattering against the metal doors, close enough to their safe haven that Eleanor gasps and tucks her face against the curved front of Delta’s helmet, feeling the cool metal against her forehead as she tries to stop listening to the sounds outside, and Delta apparently tries to help her as he lets out another soft note of whalesong.

“Now, that wasn’t anythin’ to panic over,” Sinclair says quickly as he moves closer on his knees, hovering a hand close to his lap as he hesitates to touch her and invade she and Delta’s hug.

The weather must really hate him, because it proceeds to fight back against his claims once again.

Lightning strikes somewhere outside and there comes a crash of something falling down nearby, and in a moment of panic, Eleanor throws her arm back, out of Delta’s embrace -

“Honey -” Sinclair says, only to pause and look down.

Because Eleanor has grabbed his hand.

She’s wrapped her fingers around three of his and he can feel her hand shaking, but even as it quakes, she refuses to loosen her tight hold on him.

Sinclair stares for a moment, then looks to Eleanor’s face; she’s peeking at him from behind her hair, over her shoulder. He can see the fear in her eyes, the worry and concern; she’s not just scared for herself. He should’ve known - her grasp on his hand tightens, as though she thinks he’ll leave or that…something will happen to him. As though…it’s not just Delta’s reassurance that she wants.

He’s given pause; God knows, he does sometimes feel like a third wheel under his own roof, what with Delta and Eleanor’s bond, and how close they already were. Sure, he and Delta have their own unique bond - Delta is the best thing to ever happen to him, and he knows Delta feels similarly - but he and Eleanor…Well, he knows he wasn’t part of her plan for life after Rapture, and he’s got to be honest and say she wasn’t part of his, so he hadn’t been of the impression that she thought much of him.

Sinclair looks back down at the way she holds his hand…and he shifts his hand and closes his fingers around hers, holds her hand in return. As he looks to her face again, he feels an odd, protective feeling surge through him that he hasn’t felt in…well, he doesn’t know. It’s different than the protectiveness he’d felt when Delta had ventured into Persephone, but he feels like he’d gotten a taste of it before, when they’d been escaping Lamb’s army, when Eleanor had fought back Splicers to help protect him and Delta. Girl her age shouldn’t have been doing all that, and she shouldn’t be sitting here now, thinking they’re all going to die, when he’s sitting here, doing nothing.

Protectiveness over others is a thing he’d never felt before these two came into his life. What he’s feeling now, it’s not the kind of protectiveness he feels toward Delta, that’s for sure…but he has a frightening suspicion that this is similar to how Tenenbaum felt toward her girls, when she stopped seeing them as just hosts for those slugs.

As he looks back to her face, Sinclair’s expression hardens, letting go of the awkward uncertainty, and he reaches under his own arm to move aside the Trouble board, to avoid stabbing his knee with their game pieces. With it out of the way, he better moves over to the pair, and he reaches out with his other hand to gently touch Eleanor’s shoulder.

“Ah…sweet pea,” he says softly, “it’s alright. We’re gonna be just fine, I promise. Now, I’ve lived through tons o’ these kinds o’ storms, and I know it sounds nasty out there, but this is all just a normal occurrence whenever one o’ these mean suckers comes to town. Jus’ the kind o’ bad weather you can expect up here on the surface, and even then, it ain’t horribly often. But we’re perfectly safe down here, don’t you worry. It’s what this basement sits around waiting for.” He gives her a little smile. “Well, other than a wheelbarrow an’ some board games.”

Eleanor sniffles and asks shakily, “Is it…Is it going to hit us?”

“No, no, no. It’ll just pass us on by - we’re gettin’ the edge o’ the storm right now. I’d tell ya if we were in any danger, and I haven’t said a word of the sort, now, have I? Besides,” he releases her shoulder and gives Delta a little nudge on the arm, “we got your daddy here, and he wouldn’t let anything get at us, now, would he?”

Delta grunts to confirm this, then releases Eleanor with one arm and uses it to pull Sinclair in, to have him join the hug, to show he’s protecting Augustus too; Eleanor ends up almost sandwiched between them as Sinclair hugs Delta in return with his free arm, his other hand still clutched tightly in Eleanor’s grasp.

“There, now. See? Big guy’s holdin’ on to us, so now we’re bound to be fine. Everybody’s safe an’ sound,” Sinclair says to her. “Don’t worry, honey. Everything’s just fine.”

…

Eventually, the sounds of thunder and wind and debris flying about quietens down; it’d been easier to ignore when she’d been wrapped up in Delta’s embrace, with Sinclair’s hand in hers, getting the comfort she needed from the people who matter most to her, but now there’s no denying it - the noises out there have stopped.

Sinclair is the first to straighten up, looking toward the cellar doors.

“I think…the storm mighta subsided, at last,” he says.

He starts to edge out of the hug, obviously intending to go and check, only for Delta to make a small noise and release Sinclair, motioning with a hand wave for him to stay put. He gently coaxes Eleanor into moving closer to Sinclair, to tell her to stay with him, then he moves back to get to his feet.

“Be careful, Father!” Eleanor calls, holding Sinclair’s hand in one of hers and his shoulder in her other, as Delta walks toward the stairs leading up to the cellar doors.

Delta ascends them slowly, still listening out for anything outside, then he undoes the latches on the doors and pushes them open. There’s a shuffle of something falling off of the doors once they get to a certain angle; Delta peeks out at first, then steps up, out of the basement properly.

A moment goes by as Eleanor and Sinclair watch in case he comes back, then they hear him give out a note of whalesong, as he does when he wants their attention.

They look at each other, then Sinclair rises from the floor and motions for her to stay behind him as she gets up as well. Sinclair ascends the stairs, peeking out as well, then nods, satisfied, and gestures for Eleanor to follow their lead out of the basement.

The sky is still clouded with grey, but the rain and wind have stopped; the three look around themselves, at the sight of the leaves and bits and pieces of branches and abandoned trash scattered over their garden. A pile of them had gradually covered the entrance to the cellar, the culprit of that shuffling when Delta had pushed the doors open.

Eleanor turns to look out at the town; it’s hard to see properly because of the high fence around the property, but everything looks…okay. She then looks up at the house - there might be some debris up on the roof too, and she sees some clumped up on the windowsills, but besides that…no. Nothing looks destroyed, nothing looks…tarnished.

She hears Sinclair give a hum of disdain and turns to him, only to see him looking over at that tree just outside their fence, the very one she’d been observing earlier; one of the branches has been torn from the tree and has fallen to the ground, and the tree has been damaged to the point that its heartwood is showing, its bark splayed and torn.

Eleanor furrows her brow as she asks herself if the tree got hit by lightning or if the wind did that damage, but nonetheless breathes a sigh of relief - that must’ve been the crash they’d heard earlier. It’s close enough for them to have heard it inside the basement, and fortunately, it hasn’t hit their fence.

She follows Delta as he goes into the back garden to check on the damage done to his earlier work, as Sinclair leaves them to check on his car out front.

The leaves, branches and odd bits and pieces of rubbish have all littered their garden, covering the soaked topsoil Delta and Sinclair had put down earlier; Delta stares out at it, then sighs, a long puff of air projected into his helmet.

“I’m sorry about your garden, Father,” Eleanor says sympathetically, smiling at him. She falters then, at something else laid out over their yard. “What…is that? Over there, on the grass.”

Delta hums, curious, and walks over, just as Sinclair returns.

“Good news is,” he says, “my car is doin’ fine. Protective sheet did its job, an’ nothin’ scratched up my paint.” He looks over at what Delta’s doing. “What’s that, pumpkin?”

Delta stoops down to pick up one end of the long strip of…something - paper? They can’t quite tell, but it’s shimmering slightly; he holds it up for them to see, turning it over so they can see the other side. With the way he holds it and the way the strip is partly folded over, they can only see the colourful writing partway: HAPPY BIR -

Sinclair barks out a laugh. “Looks like someone was havin’ a birthday celebration before the storm hit! What a way to ruin a good bash.”

Delta spots something else on the grass and bends low, plucking it up and showing it to them - it’s a deflated, purple balloon, dangling uselessly from Delta’s finger and thumb.

Sinclair titters again, then cocks his head with a frown. “Though it looks like the storm equally wrecked our work on your potential rose garden, chief. We’ll hafta pick up where we left off after we clean up out here.”

Delta gives an exasperated groan as he observes the area around him, then carries the balloon and the banner back over to the porch, dragging the wet banner through the debris.

Eleanor smiles, then rubs her arms as she looks around.

Everything’s okay. Nobody got hurt, nobody got killed. The tornado hadn’t hit them, just got close enough to throw some branches from the trees and litter their clean gardens. Nothing that can’t be cleaned up.

“You alright, sweetie pie?” Sinclair asks as Delta dumps the balloon and banner down.

Eleanor’s smile turns awkward as she shrugs. “I…I feel a little bit embarrassed…I must’ve seemed so ridiculous, getting as scared as I did. You must’ve found it funny.”

“Ohhh. C’mon now.” Sinclair waves a hand as Delta joins them. “You weren’t anythin’ of the sort, and I didn’t let out even a chuckle in your direction. Tons o’ folks are scared of tornadoes like that - I’ve seen grown men cry like babies when a twister’s come by. Hell, if I was born in Rapture an’ you went an’ told me that the surface sometimes lets loose these giant, destructive tubes o’ clouds - well, I’d probably be scared just the same. Shook me up alright, first time I ever laid eyes on one, comin’ over the horizon.” He shrugs a shoulder with a smile. “I’m jus’ an old man, y’see. Had the time to get used to ‘em.”

Eleanor gives a soft chortle, and her smile stretches more genuinely as Delta gently pats her head, then rests his hand there as he warbles softly to her reassuringly.

He pats at his chest to tell her he was afraid too, and Eleanor’s smile pinches at one end; she’s not sure she believes him on that one, but she appreciates the attempt.

“And I guess,” Sinclair adds to that notion, smiling at Delta, “that either you’ve got some muscle memory in regards to how you handle storms, chief, or you’re braver than I thought, watchin’ you traverse Rapture, cause I didn’t see you shake even the once.”

Delta shrugs.

Believe him or not, he had been scared, but if they want an explanation for his lack of more intense fear, then it seems obvious to him: not only had he too been of the belief that if the situation was truly that bad, Augustus would have said something - Sinclair’s calmness allowed Delta to remain calm too - but he’d also simply been more concerned for his daughter and his partner than himself. Per the usual. Besides, he and Sinclair’s antics over the Trouble board just proved entertaining enough to distract him, just as the pair’s card games on the train down in Rapture had distracted him from his predicament (perhaps a little too entertaining this time - he feels awful that he hadn’t realised how frightened Eleanor had been sooner).

If his past self has ever dealt with storms like that, he doesn’t remember it.

For her part, Eleanor feels she should’ve given them more credit than she had; they aren’t like Mother, who practically scolded her for her childish fears. Even when he’d been a brainwashed slave, Father had supported her fears and her interests - he isn’t like Mother, she’s always known that. And Augustus…well, she doesn’t know him as well, obviously, but…maybe she should work a little harder to get to know him.

She looks at them both, back and forth, and says sincerely, “Thank you…”

Sinclair gives her a little smile. “Think nothin’ of it.”

Delta pats her head again and Eleanor beams up at him.

Sinclair nods toward the house. “Now, c’mon. Better go check on the inside, in case anything’s fallen over or broken.”

“And afterwards,” Eleanor says, “perhaps we can finish that game of Trouble we started?”

Sinclair titters. “Sure we can, sweetheart.” He puts on a mock frown as he leads the way back into the house, looking over his shoulder at Delta. “So long as your daddy quits his cheatin’ ways.”

Delta lets out a defiant growl to deny such accusations.

“Not to worry, Augustus,” Eleanor says, more confident than she’s felt all day, “I’ll have you both beaten.”

Sinclair barks out a laugh, and Eleanor grins and holds her head high as she follows her guardians inside.

[post-itpenny]

Everyone! - What's your muse's favorite holiday? How do they celebrate it?

Ok, I know I’m not going to get everyone but let’s see.

Maggie, Vespers, Atlas, and Juno- All love Halloween. One of the best things about the holiday is how every year can be celebrated differently. Trick-or-treating, Halloween parties, visiting haunted houses. There is never a boring year.

Also Maggie- Imbolc, St Brigid’s Day. She’s never really paid much attention to it before, but has been doing so to connect a little more with her roots. Plus, in a own way, it reminds her of Brigg

Magpie- Christmas (both Christmas and Yule actually). There is a cheer in the air despite the cold, it’s something that just feels important to her. (Yule always starts around her brother’s birthday though so for a long time the Holliday was very bittersweet for her).

Lyra and Vega- Both love Ostara, the Spring Equinox. More than anything they’re both just excited for all the spring flowers.

Peregrine- Feels awkward that Summer Solstice is his favorite because, on one hand, it’s the longest day of the year and he has always enjoyed the strange extended twilight of the evening. But it also always falls around his sister’s birthday. They’re a lot better than before. But still kinda awkward.

Anne- Gosh, she wouldn’t be a baby anymore would she? I could see her enjoying both Ostara and Easter. She’s very cheerful and loves bright colors. She’s also not allowed sweets in large quantities. I imagine egg hunts are a nice trade since she doesn’t get to eat that much candy trick-or-treating at Halloween.

To be fair. She gets sugar rushes very easily is a terror to deal with when she does.

[justanothergeneralkrow]

Thoughts on the UKvsTW s2 Talent Show

Choriza May, Lip Sync Performance (Party in Hell) She opened the show really well. Probably the best song we heard that night alongside Marina's Amafilipina. The outfit was designed by mr.oystr and looked spectacular. Her energy was vivacious and infectious as she performed. Though I did feel like I was having more fun listening to her song rather than having fun by her performance.

Scarlet Envy, Live Singing Performance (Bad Advice) I actually quite enjoyed Scarlet's performance. When she was kept on stage I thought they were going to praise her but instead she was mostly negatively critiqued. Though I don't disagree with the critiques I thought she did well enough to be safe. I just think her mistake with the talent show was that the song's humor was a bit lax. Some of the bad advice was more nonsesical than bad or too general. I feel like if she had referenced herself and her drag race run more the performance would've been much better. The line I laughed at the most was: “Keep losing like me and soon you’ll be, Invited back more times than Jujubee.” Nevertheless she looked stunning so it's fine.

La Grande Dame, Soundboard Comedy Performance Truly frustrating that someone that gorgeous is also that stupid and funny. She stepped on that stage in an LBD, a blonde human hair unit and a mic then proceeded to laugh, grunt and press buttons. It was a phenomenal performance and my favorite details were the reference to her first talent show with the saxophone and at the end when she put the mic under her dress and laughed one more time. Definitely the second best performance of the night.

Gothy Kendoll, Lip Sync & Fire Performance (Inferno) I was really rooting for Gothy here, I love seeing early outs get an opportunity to return but this performance was just not it. The song wasn't very good which made the start of her performance hard to watch. When the fire tricks came out my interest was piqued again and while the tricks were impressive her lack of confidence really brought down the performance. She just looked uncomfortable on stage, even the way she walked looked a bit off. I am glad she got to stay though I hope she's able to build up her confidence and really perform.

Marina Summers, Lip Sync & Silk Poi Performance (AMAFILIPINA) "Born in an island and raised by the seas, Gold in my skin I'm the Filipina queen, I'm a Filipina, Filipina Winner." I loved her performance, pure pinay pride, pure pinay talent just amazing. I could keep talking about how amazing she is but the performance speaks for itself. I will say her doing her own version of AMAKABOGERA by Maymay Entrata sent me into a laughing fit of pure entertainment and joy. (Also that song was a lip sync on her original season and resulted in a double shantay between Minty Fresh and Brigiding).

Keta Minaj, Lip Sync & Gymnastics Performance (Yay2theK) I was so excited for Keta to return, she remains the only queen to garner 3 wins and not make the finale. Truly a robbed queen. She's super talented and her Holland talent show was amazing. Unfortunately she did not live up to the hype. I was expecting a lot from her and I was disappointed. I wasn't enthused by her song it was weird in a forced kind of way and her performance wasn't the best. I'm convinced her gymnastics got her the safe placement but I think she should've been in the bottom 3.

Mayhem Miller, Meditation ijbol

Hannah Conda, Live Singing Comedy Performance I feel like she could've been in the top 3 over Choriza. Her performance was really funny and she sounded great. The false piano playing to the false reveal. It was all really well conceived and showcased her personality really well. As someone who didn't watch Down Under this talent show was a great introduction to the Hannah Conda and I'm excited to see more.

Jonbers Blonde, Lip Sync Performance (In Fashion) A really fun performance from Jonbers. Her personality is just so bright and captivating and it's great to see it shining through her performance. I will say this is like the third "fashion" song in a talent show. (AS3 Milk & AS4 Naomi) So it's a bit of a tired thing to do for a talent show, in my opinion. I did love her look at the start of the performance. The coat played well with the dress and she looked really good, less of a fan of dress' bodice though.

Arantxa Castilla La Mancha, Comedy Performance It was funny when she called them idiots but I felt like the performance went on for a bit too long without a punchline. She just kept saying her name and there is comedy in the absurdity of that but personally I just felt a little uncomfortable. Love her though and while I was uncomfortable I was also laughing and giggling.

Tia Kofi, Live Singing (Read my Lips) I didn't like this performance. It reminded me of Megami's and Ginger Minj's talent show. It was sincere and subpar, to speak a bit bluntly. Her vocals weren't that amazing and the performance felt a bit stilted. I feel like this performance needed dancers or something that could help Tia keep the energy up.

[maddymoreau]

I BEAT BIOSHOCK!!!!!

(੭ु ☆ᗜ☆)੭ु⁾⁾ I LOST MY MIND WHEN I REALIZED I GOT TO BE A BIG DADDY!!!!

This part was very fun but SO STRESSFUL since it was difficult to see and she’s really tiny!!!

During the transformation process everytime Brigid Tenenbaum talked about how disgusting she finds the Big Daddy I couldn’t stop laughing because I was simping so hard for them.

(⸝⸝⸝⚆_⚆⸝⸝⸝)♡ I wonder what Big Daddy Pheromones smell like ANYWAY-

GET HIS ASS!!!!!

(ʃƪ〃^∇^〃)♡ The scene of Fontaine getting drained was so satisfying and the ending was ADORABLE!!!! I’m super excited to play Bioshock 2!!!!

Bonus:

Also while I know the Big Daddy and Little Sisters bond was engineered it’s still REALLY CUTE!!!!

[skelezomperman]

I’m interested in seeing what prompts/scenarios you’d do for these Finn pairings since I found your Erinys x Finn series captivating and fitting for both characters:

Finn x Ayra

Finn x Edain

Finn x Tailtiu

Finn x Brigid

I'm glad you asked. To be honest, I'm not particularly interested in any of these with the possible exception of Finn/Brigid but I'll go through them one by one. (Spoilers ahead)

Finn/Ayra has probably had the most fan-content of these four, funny enough - mostly Japanese fanart. (It makes sense given that Ayra is perhaps the most popular Gen 1 female and Finn is the most popular non-Sigurd Gen 1 male.) I think this is perhaps the most realistic of the four to happen too. Yes, Ayra is a princess and Finn is a commoner, but Ayra isn't exactly surrounded by Isaachian nobles. She's estranged from everyone else so perhaps she could get with Finn? Larcei and Scathach being twins also helps the timeline because there's no need to worry about how and when two children are conceived and birthed. Sadly, the Finn/Larcei convo in Chapter 7 is rather generic, but it would be interesting. I actually think it's possible they wouldn't hate Finn, moreso that they thought he was dead and were surprised to find out he was alive. So a Finn/Ayra story, maybe it could involve Larcei and Scathach being excited to learn from their father and maybe being envious of him.

Finn/Edain is decent for continuity as well. How they fall in love, well, maybe Ethlyn and Edain were childhood friends and that's how he meets her, so arguably it's more likely than Finn/Ayra. And one could also say Lester has his hair color from Finn, though he clearly looks more like Lex. Still, this probably has the least fancontent of any of Finn's possible pairings in FE4. And again, Finn/Lana in Chapter 7 is generic but Lana would probably be understanding. I don't think Edain would harbor bad feelings against Finn for abandoning her like some of his other possible partners would, but Lester might end up getting a bad impression anyway. Perhaps that could cause some tension between the siblings in a story as well.

Finn/Tailtiu...the age old problem of how you fall in love with someone on the complete opposite side of the map. Tailtiu is the closest in age to Finn of these four, but I still find it hard to see her fall in love with him. On the surface she is less mature than him and I'm unsure if they ever spend enough time together to where Finn could really discover Tailtiu's true self (this is something that I really like about Azelle/Tailtiu). Like many Finn pairings, this one almost certainly requires a "one-night stand" use a euphemism for something very crude. I think such a pairing could explore both of them being thrust into maturing. And then there's the question of the kids. Arthur, already someone who has a lot of animosity towards his mother's family, now having animosity towards his own father. Well, maybe. I think it's a coin flip as to whether Arthur thinks that Finn is to blame or that the Empire is to blame for him being orphaned, either one works.

Almost all of the content with Finn/Brigid revolves around Finn/Eyvel, but let's focus on the Finn/Brigid dimension at least. Obviously Finn/Brigid implies that Finn gets the feels upon meeting his partner having completely lost her memory and I'm sure everyone knows how that goes, but what about the before-amnesia part? Brigid would almost certainly feel that the rug was swept from under her - she just met her sister again, married a guy and had two kids, and then he goes off to Leonster right after (or before) the second one is born. Tragedy! Would she have ill will once she regains her memory seven years after the end of the Holy War? Probably not, but that's because she's older and saw Finn's dedication while she was still Eyvel.

[dassawrites]

'What Happened At Hawthorne House' update

The cover is very nearly ready -- I'm being sent the typeface for the title and chapter headings today -- and I'm so excited to share it!! One of the things I was concerned about when I signed the contract for the novella was the cover, as it's super important to me that it fits my aesthetics and the feel of the book, so I'm so happy that Brigids Gate commissioned art for it and left it up to me to actually give the details! Like, I was not expecting to have that much creative control (and I only do because I really disliked the initial design; my fault for not specifying at the start that I wanted a drawn design rather than something photoshopped). No shade to the first person they asked to do the cover, of course. I can't wait for people to read the book and do that thing where you flip to the cover as you figure things out, and the cover is accurate!

Also, the final version of edits are currently being proofread, and that should be done by the end of the week. *pretend the 'it's all coming together' meme is here*

[allthesunlightwecansee]

I mentioned before that the person who did the triple moon dish that I bought was doing a custom container for me, and I picked it up yesterday! I absolutely love it, while it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I commissioned it, I think it turned out beautifully and matches the aesthetic of Brigid’s�� altar. I’m storing offerings that don’t fit on her altar dish in it and I’m really excited about it! The seller also included a couple of extra trinkets, including a gold snake that doubles as an orb holder that I have dedicated to Apollo, a couple of crystals and what seem to be tooth beads, and these adorable little mushrooms that I added to Gaia’s shelf. The extra stuff was incredibly kind and I’m really excited to have the little container!

[theinquisitxor]

December 2022 Reading Wrap Up

I read 8 books in December and 1 DNF. This was also a really good reading month, and I feel like 2022 in general was one of the best reading years for me since 2019 maybe. I'm looking forward to 2023, because I think I have even better books on my tbr!

1.Return of the Thief (Queen's Thief 6) by Meghan Whalen Turner, 5/5 stars. This is the last book of the qt series, and I was very satisfied with this conclusion and this book was everything I wanted it to be. I'm very glad I read this series, and it has been a defining series of 2022 for me. YA fantasy.

2.Moon Witch, Spider King (Dark Star Trilogy 2) by Marlon James 3/5 stars. This is the second book to MJ's African high fantasy series. This was enjoyable, but these books are tough to rate. I enjoyed the more female centered perspective on this one. Adult, African inspired fantasy.

3.Forging Silver into Stars by Brigid Kemmerer 5/5 stars. This is the first book in a spin-off series by Kemmerer from her ACSDAL series. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and the romance (mlm) was super adorable and had more good disability rep. young adult high fantasy

The Magicians by Lev Grossman (DNF). I had a physical copy of this, and decided to see what it was about. I dnf'd at about 20%

4.One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig 3/5 stars. I was a tad bit disappointed in this one. I was hoping for more of Margaret Rogerson's Vespertine but got more of Hannah Whitten's For the Wolf instead. This would have been a better spooky season read. I doubt I will read the sequel. adult high fantasy

5.The Pillars of the Earth (Kingsbridge 1) by Ken Follett 4.5/5 stars. This is a sweeping historical fiction surrounding the fictional English town of Kingsbridge trying to build a cathedral in the 12th century. I deeply enjoyed this one. Warning for a strong male-gaze/perspective and graphic r*pe scenes. Historical Fiction

6.Moira's Pen (Queen's Thief Collection) by Meghan Whalen Turner 3/5 stars. This is a collection of short stories, drabbles, illustrations, and even a recipe. It was enjoyable to read some behind the scenes stuff, and to get glimpses into the future after the 6th book, but I found several things frustrating and disappointing. It raised more questions than it answered. ya fantasy.

7.Beneath the Sugar Sky (Wayward Children 3) by Seanan McGuire, 4/5 stars. Wayward Children is a series I desperately need to catch up on, and I just discovered my one library card has them all on audio. I really enjoyed the audiobook narrator. I thought this one was a fun quest/adventure story with our main cast of characters. Fantasy

8.What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher 3.5/5 stars. The Fall of the House of Usher is my favorite Poe short story, and I was excited for this one. I enjoyed this queer novella, with an even creepier twist to the classic story. Horror.

January reading goals:

Keep listening to the Wayward Children series on audio

Reread (on audio) the Folk of the Air in anticipation for The Lost Heir

Reread Ninth House and read Hell Bent

Emily Wildes Encyclopedia of Faeries

Sofi and the Bone Song

The Shadow of the Wind

Next Kingsbridge novel?

[puppyonmainn]

Hi past and future charlie,

I’m really happy to tell you that you didn’t get rejected from the Florence program—you were waitlisted and you got in!! In exactly 2 weeks we’re leaving the country for the first time. I’ve never been so excited. We’re going to have an amazing time.

You were right about surprised by scripture being good for me. Joyce, Brandon, Genna, and Natalia are all so nice and I’ve had a lot of fun joining another club, too. So much so that I’m gonna be the president next semester, believe it or not.

I’ve also been connecting back to religion by dabbling in paganism, specifically Celtic and Roman neopaganism. I really like the Morrigan and Brigid. And of course, writing about and studying Vestals for so long makes me feel connected to Vesta. I’m bringing some Vesta incense from Enchanted and some make shift salsa mole to the temple of vesta when I arrive in Rome. Hopefully I don’t get kicked out for lighting a fire. I don’t know if I am capable of actually believing.

You didn’t see this one coming, but the student revolution for Palestine has begun. I lived outside for about a week before my body started to give up on me. It was possibly one of the most important weeks of my life. It gave me so much hope for the future, and I am so grateful I was able to be a part of it. I hope it never stops. I never will. I hope one day you can read this with the knowledge that Palestine is free.

I won’t see Liam for a while, which sucks. I’ll miss him, but I feel like I can’t tell him that. There’s a high chance we’ll only be able to hang out for a couple months after I’m back. I’ve grown pretty fond of him. I know that would scare him, though.

Goals for the next month:

Finish my play, kiss a cute boy, try 3 new foods, swim in the Mediterranean, make 3 new friends, spend 2 days in Pompeii/Naples, try some wine, go to a queer club, order food in Italian, walk every day, see art every day, learn so much history, and be so unapologetically autistic about it

Right now I just need to focus on getting packed up and ready for Italy. Speaking of which, I should probably stop typing now.

Ciao!

Charlie

[prussiasqueen]

Facts about my S/I Saint Bridgette:

Remember ‘Lisa’ from Hetalia that encountered France and whatnot? Ok well bridgette has a similar thing except she was caught on the Hohenzollern castle grounds strayed away from the tourist group. She was taking pictures and admiring the castle. (He loves castles and fairytales) that’s how she encountered Prussia. Because Prussia had noticed a certain individual that kept coming and visiting his domain which raised suspicions and got him intrigued, it entertained him even more that the fact she had came not just once but 8 more times after this.

Bridgette loves to take pictures and record any information she can learn from history or anything about someone in general, so when she was on the tour, she couldn’t help but to write about the Prussian kingdom being a “strong, but prideful young man who has a secret soft and emotional turmoil side to him”.

After he noted that she could see him, he started to question her and tease. He had found a new victim to terrorize… and even told her he was gonna bind her to his castle. And got very uh, clingy (cough) about this.

Saint Brigid/Brigitte or more commonly known in her current life, Brii or Bridgette, is a woman of black hair (she also is depicted to having purple hair) and greenish blue eyes, depicted as how some believe this is how she truly looked like, the Saint.

She loves to drink and often times gets into trouble doing so. She loves to help others especially with emotional guidance and philosophical teachings. She’s always typing or writing on her smartphone about all the things she witnesses and encounters and always chatting with someone about their problems and being a “listening ear”.

She loves horses, chickens and her dog King and cats, she’s very partial to animals and farming. Often finds herself sometimes mentioning about how she used to farm when she was younger. She loves lambs and sheep~

She has lived and travelled many places in the world during her past lives, she’s lived through 9 lives, she knows of her origin past life and the one after so, but details get quite fuzzy after the third one …

Her favorite colors is black, purple, pink and turquoise.

When she was in her past life has Saint Bridget of Sweden, she was a princess and a royal at the time. So that explains her regal and moments of himedere attitude.

She’s close friends with Israel Chan, they talk all the time.

A bit of an emotional crybaby and a doormat, most of the time she’s usually the one who accepts others (unconditionally), but if she’s really hellbent on saying no, she loses her temper.

Motherly attitude and childish at the same time (how the fuck does that work? We don’t know.)

Secret fangirling of Prussia in her journals and sketchbooks when she draws him.

She has a pretty good relationship with Sweden, she talks with him sometimes about the royalty of the country and may go and spend time having a tour or two with him. They are pals.

Loud and excitable sometimes, always has an informal and vulgar mouth, she curses a lot and shouts if she’s upset or excited.

Loves to gamble and do reckless things, she loves dangerous things also.

Supposedly she once was the consort of the god of the dead, also known as the king of the void. But she doesn’t want to talk too much about that.

Sometimes speaks in broken different languages, German, French, Italian and Swedish. She too also speaks a bit of Gaelic, Hebrew and Yiddish.

Has a very large figure and frame, has big breasts (bigger than Ukraine, it’s due to she has constant need to give others so much unconditional LOVE!) and big hips and thighs and belly, and very large butt. It’s all to do with the overfilling emotions that she has and the love she wants to give everyone.

Treats Italy like a child, she likes to play and cuddle him and even though he and Romano get on her nerves, she still teased and loves on them by giving headpats and hugs.

Most of the time she’s known for giving the nations hugs and headpats and talking with them in “flirtatious” manner as Germany words it, she’s completely unaware that she is “flirting” and views it as maternal interaction or friendship.

Is often tired, and sometimes spaced out. She loves naps and indulging in snacks and alcohol.

She’s not dirty but she is messy.

She’s “dirty” in another way, hell of a masochist. But has her dominant “mommy” moments!

She has a rocky but very loving relationship with Germany, he’s mean as hell to her sometimes and may say some things that he doesn’t mean to, but in the end he’s always apologizing and trying to make her feel better despite how “annoying and insolent of a brat.” She is. He says he just has high expectations of a woman her age to act like it and grow up a little. But deep down we know secretly he loves taking care of her at times.

She is seen running back and forth from Germany’s house to the Hohenzollern castle.

She’s a bit of a hoarder, she has a lot of Knick knacks, cultural items, snacks and plushies, perfume and make up and hair products. She also has lots of sketchbooks and notepads. And there’s a few alcohol bottles in her room (schnapps and rum and beer).