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itsallavengers · 6 years ago

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Canine Cupid

Commission for anonymous, who asked for some cute Winteriron+ Puppies! This comes in at 2k.

If asked, Tony would probably say that it was entirely Gandalf’s fault, which wasn’t true. A good 10% of the blame went on Tony and Bucky would stand by that statistic until the day he died, thank you very much.

But… you know. The other 95% was definitely split between Bucky and Gandalf.

Gandalf was a big dog, you see. He was large and he was energetic and ever since he was a puppy he had always had a terrible sense of spatial awareness. This wasn’t even the first time it’d happened whilst Bucky had been taking him on a walk, although it was probably the worst accident to date.

He’d been throwing the ball on the grass, letting Gandalf race energetically to leap and catch it before bringing it back. He did this every morning, nothing unusual about that, and Gandalf never seemed to get bored of catching tennis balls with wild abandon, often banging into trashcans and trees in his haste to retrieve it as fast as possible, because, as Bucky had said, terrible sense of awareness. For a breed like a Husky, which was supposedly intelligent, Gandalf sure as hell didn’t seem to have a lot of sense (not that Bucky could say he would change that about him in a million years, of course).

Anyway. Like Bucky had been explaining, he’d just been tossing the ball for him, exactly the same way he always did, and Gandalf had been racing after it, leaping to catch it and then waggling his tail excitedly while he brought it back. It had all been fine.

Except Gandalf missed the ball. It didn’t make it into his mouth and instead went over his head, bouncing off the grass and onto the pathway through the park. Gandalf twisted in midair, eyes locking onto the offending ball, determined not to let it out of his grasp for a second time. And of course, right when Gandalf set off and made to pounce?

Someone decided to walk around the corner, ambling easily as they texted on their phone, oblivious to the world and also to the big white Siberian Husky that was leaping through the air trying to catch his target.

Bucky watched from a couple of yards away, somewhat resigned to the immediate disaster that he knew was going to happen. He lurched forward and called out Gandalf’s name sharply, but only managed to break out the first syllable before—

“SONOFABITCH!”

The poor man was very suddenly overwhelmed with roughly fifty-pounds of rapidly moving Husky careening into his legs, and Bucky gasped in horror as the guy clattered roughly to the rough concrete floor, Gandalf sprawling on top of him as the dog also stumbled, surprised by the malleability of what he’d hurtled into. Usually they were things like trees, with somewhat less of a give.

“Oh My God,” Bucky muttered, starting up on a sprint, “oh my GOD, Gandalf, you DUMBASS!”

Gandalf got quickly back to his paws and trotted over to Bucky, the ball clutched happily in his mouth, completely oblivious to the chaos he’d just caused to this man’s 9am walk. Bucky ignored him in favour of rushing over to the stranger, still laid flat-out on his back and gazing somewhat dazedly at the sky. He had a look of surprise on his face. “Ow.”

Bucky reached him a second or so later, dropping hurriedly into a crouch and leaning over him. “Are you okay?” He asked hurriedly, eyes wide and mortified and oh God, what if this guy was hurt? Bucky would have to pay any medical bills, and he couldn’t even afford to pay his own medical bills, Christ, Gandalf was the worst- “Are you hurt? Did you hit your head? I am so so sorry, my dog is a fucking idiot, holy shit—”

“I’m alright,” the man breathed out sharply and focused on Bucky before blinking rapidly. “Whoah, hello there, handsome. This morning is getting more and more interesting by the minute.” He sat up a little, rubbing at his neck and then turning around while Bucky simply stared at him, completely unsure of where to go next. “Hey, where’d my dog go? Black poodle, tiny, yaps like a complete asshole? I lost sight of him while I was getting run over.”

Bucky spluttered, looking around the grass helplessly. He spotted Gandalf a few meters away, minding his own business as he sniffed around, but then he shifted a little and Bucky saw that Gandalf wasn’t just sniffing daisies. Oh no—seemingly not content with bowling the man over, it now appeared Gandalf had his nose rather far up the ass of the dog that belonged to him. “Uhh,” Bucky started in mortification, whistling sharply and harshly, “Gandalf, stop it! Stop… Oh Jesus, uh, he’s. He’s over there,” Bucky waved helplessly and cursed Gandalf’s name as he did it. When this was over, Steve was getting full custody. Bucky could not deal with this shit on a Monday morning.

Gandalf, after a few seconds’ worth of extra sniffing, eventually followed Bucky’s command and scurried back over, his tongue lolling out happily. Bucky turned back to the man who was now sat up on the floor, feeling his cheeks burning. “I am so sorry,” he blurted, “Gandalf’s an idiot and he runs constantly into walls, he’s not a bad dog though, honestly—”

“You called your dog Gandalf,” the man declared half-way through, and Bucky stopped.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s… he’s got a kind of doggy beard, sort of. It’s… it’s a thing.”

The man blinked once at him. Then he turned to the black poodle, now also making its way over to them both with a couple of high-pitched yaps. “I mostly just call my dog Asshole,” he said, “but I can see how yours would be a Gandalf. Also, for some reason, the fact that you care enough about Lord of the Rings to name your dog after a character makes me even more attracted to you than I already was when I saw you.”

Bucky just stared at him, waiting for the punchline. The man was still sat on the concrete, Bucky on his haunches next to him. He realised how weird this must look to the passers-by. “Did you hit your head?” He asked again, wondering if Gandalf had actually given this dude a concussion.

But a shake of his head told Bucky otherwise. “Nope, I’m just like this. Ask Rhodey.” Pushing his curly hair out of his face, he got back to his feet and dusted himself off. As he did so, Bucky took the opportunity to give him a once over. The coat alone looked like it cost more than Bucky’s rent that month, which wasn’t exactly comforting. But his face was kind. Soft around the eyes. And he was very, very pretty. Bucky didn’t fail to notice that.

“I’m Tony,” the guy said, sticking out a hand, “does your dog usually do that? Because I just moved here, and I’d like to know whether I need to design some body armour for when I’m out walking Professor Poodles over there in future.”

Bucky shook his head and absently brushed a leaf off Tony’s shoulder. “No, God no, I swear he’s just… he’s just dumb as a brick, look—Hey Gandalf, c’mere you big lug, come on.” He clicked his fingers and waited for Gandalf to trot over, his snout pushing into Bucky’s outstretched palm. “I promise, he’s a sweetheart,” Bucky explained emphatically.

Tony glanced down at him, then extended a few wary fingers. Gandalf sniffed them curiously before his tail began to wag like a windmill and he took a big lick. Tony giggled. It was… it was cute. “Okay, yeah, I believe you,” Tony admitted with a nod, “I forgive him for his earlier crimes. Although I’m not sure my back does. Big guy really floored me there.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky said, biting his lip as he looked down at Gandalf, now once more taking interest in Tony’s own dog as they sniffed one another’s genitals, as dogs tended to do upon first meeting, “is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Tony eyed him for a moment, before his mouth quirked up in a smile. “Buy me a coffee,” he declared simply, shrugging his shoulders and then looking up at Bucky pointedly through his very long, dark eyelashes. “And then maybe dinner, depending on how said coffee goes.”

Oh. Okay.

Well that sure was… something.

Bucky blinked a few times, trying to process the last few minutes. Gandalf had just felled this man where he stood, knocking him flat out on the concrete. Why had that resulted in said man asking for a date? Tony should be giving him an earful about learning to control his dog, not…

“I’ll give you a couple minutes to think it over,” Tony said cheerily, before whistling behind him, “Poodle-Boy, come on! We’re walking this way now!” The little black poodle perked up at the noise, and then scampered over a second or so later, running between Bucky and Tony’s legs and then scampering off into some bushes to pee. Sensing Tony wanted to walk with him now, Bucky moved forward and then turned to look at Tony. “What’s his actual name?” He asked, nodding over to Tony’s dog.

Tony shrugged. “He doesn’t really have one. I know,” he raised an eyebrow at Bucky’s incredulous face, “it drives Pepper up the wall too. I mostly just call him ‘baby’ or ‘cretin’. But now I’m kinda mad I didn’t, because Gandalf is a fucking awesome name for a dog.”

Bucky chuckled, his shoulder brushing with Tony’s as they walked down the path. He was still half expecting Tony to start shouting at him any moment, to be honest. It seemed a little anticlimactic, all things considered. Tony had fallen with some rather spectacular pizzazz, and Bucky had honestly though he might have killed the man in the first moment or two.

Except now the very same man was chatting away amicably to him, using his very attractive mouth and very attractive hands and wow, okay, how had any of this even happened?

(‘Gandalf was our cupid,’ Tony says later, his voice dreamy as he drapes himself over Bucky’s lap, and Bucky just rolls his eyes and tells him ‘Gandalf was nearly your very expensive medical bill that I would’ve had to pay, actually, please don’t encourage him’ and then kisses him over his morning coffee.)

They ended up taking another circuit of the park together, walking side by side while their dogs both played with one another and frolicked around with a care in the world. Tony was rubbing his elbow occasionally and Bucky resisted the urge to take hold of it and check it over. He was still a relative stranger and he didn’t want to be too pushy. But Tony seemed… relaxed. In fact, he seemed a little more than relaxed. It was like he’d already known Bucky for months before this. Better still, Bucky felt kind of the same. Tony was very easy to talk to. And there was something about the way he smiled that just made Bucky go all soft in the stomach.

“You still want me to make it up to you?” Bucky asked when they both reached the park gates twenty minutes later, raising an eyebrow somewhat nervously as Tony stopped beside him. He became rather acutely aware of the fact he hadn’t washed his hair in a good few days now, and it was hanging a little stringily down his shoulders. He resisted the urge to fiddle with it. That’d only draw attention.

Tony smiled as he leashed his poodle back up to walk him on the road. “You bet your pretty ass I do,” he agreed heartily, “once I’ve got that date, any leverage I have over you and your bulldozer of a dog is automatically nulled. Where d’you wanna meet?”

Bucky gave him the name of his favourite coffee place just down the road from where he lived, and Tony agreed enthusiastically. “I’ll be there at 2,” he called out, “and hey, you know—I think I actually did hit my head.” Bucky’s smile fell and he stepped forward in concern, but Tony just shrugged, tapping his forehead. “You may just have to kiss it better.”

Despite knowing him for all of half an hour, Bucky felt like that was very typical of the man. He rolled his eyes. “I don’t kiss strangers,” he said.

“We’re totally not strangers. You know my name. I know yours. I got uncomfortably familiar with your dog.” Tony wiggled his eyebrows and then winked, but then stepped back to turn away. Until Bucky grabbed his arm gently, and then pressed a very small kiss to the top of Tony’s forehead. When he pulled back a little, it seemed Tony was surprised Bucky had taken him up on it. He was just about to apologise for being too forward when suddenly Tony laughed, and the twinkle in his eye set Bucky’s heart at rest. “Oh, Mr Barnes,” Tony said in delight, “I am going to have so much fun with you.”

With that, he walked off, Bucky’s number safely in his phone and his dog yapping playfully by his feet. Bucky’s gaze fell on the man’s ass as he walked, and couldn’t help but feel as if Tony was exaggerating the sway of his hips a little, just for him.

Gandalf tugged at his own leash in an attempt to follow them. Bucky just looked down at the menace with a sigh and a shake of his head. “Look at what you gotten me into now,” he muttered fondly, scratching those soft ears a couple of times. “Come on, trouble. Steve’s gonna love hearing this story.”

Commission me Here!

#winteriron #no power au #meet-cute #sort of #commissions

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thewiseworm · 6 years ago

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Not Hair, but a Heart of Gold

Chapter 1: Love at First Steal

Summary: Roman lives a life freedom. He cares about no one other than himself, with an exception of one, sort of. He dances his way across the rooftops of the nearby cities and paints himself into the history books by stealing anything and everything he wants.

Roman’s content with that.

At least until he meets Patton. Patton with his bright blue eyes. Patton with his innocence and adorable giggle.

Patton who’s never left his father’s tower.

Word count: 5561

Pairings: Royality, Analogical, Platonic Logince, Platonic Moxiety

Tags: Language, Emotional Abuse (brief)

Notes: Project number 2!! Of who knows how many! Chapter one of this glorious adventure and gaaaaah I am e x c i t e for this one gays!! I’ve wanted to do this one for a while and now we’re finally starting it aaaaaaaa -Soc

Yeesssss!! I'm super excited and hype!! It's been one of our favorite ideas and I'm so happy we get to explore it and share it with y'all! -Puma

Read on AO3

Roman gripped the windowsill with both hands. The foothold he used took his weight easily, worn down by his repeated use of it. Perhaps it was time to switch up which rooftop they met on, but really Roman had grown attached to this one. It had pizzazz. The whole city was visible, from the towering mansion at one end, to the capitol building and the mayor’s house at the other.

Roman let go with one hand, swinging out to look down at the glittering lights below him. He trusted his harness to catch him if anything went wrong. The view was to die for anyways. He tilted his head back. The evening wind ruffled his bangs.

Each building was a star all on its own. One that Roman was free to plunder as he chose. A grin stretched across his face. Suspended above the world always left him feeling like a king, a prince, a god. Endless freedom stretched out below him, and adventure was a simple kick of his leg away. If it weren’t for his… “standing appointment,” for the night Roman would be flying.

He rolled his eyes at the reminder of the detective probably already waiting for him above.

He reached up once more, hauling himself up even further. Roman pressed a button on his rope harness and with a click, he rushed past the last ten floors to the rooftop. Logan’s glasses glinted like sapphires and he would know! He stole more than enough of them in his line of work. Roman hauled himself over the edge and back onto solid ground.

Roman didn’t click himself out of the harness just yet. He preferred to take the quick exit down if he needed to. Logan leaned over the railing, his dark trench coat fluttering in the cold wind as he appreciated the view. Roman leaned back against the railing next to Logan.

“Hey there, old friend,” Roman drawled as his archenemy adjusted his glasses, “Come on, don’t sulk. I won fair and square.”

“You won nothing,” Logan replied. Roman smirked, careful to not let his eyes drop to the gun surely hanging at Logan’s waist. “You stole plenty.”

“But you got another commendation for catching that drug ring,” Roman all but purred. He was the cat that got the cream after all. Or more accurately the cat that got several thousands worth in illegal jewelry and smuggled art, but who was counting? “I told you that shop had been a front.”

“You also used the raid as cover in order to steal everything!”

“I left you the drugs! And the evidence! Plus you have no proof it was me!” Roman protested. He perched on the railing as Logan glared at him. A reminder that all Roman had to do was lean back to disappear back into the night. That, and because the precarious feeling of almost falling left a pleasant swoop in Roman’s stomach.

Logan sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. Roman grinned. Maybe he’d pick a better target next time. Someone more visible.

“Admit it, Sherlock,” Roman teased, “You’d be bored without me.”

“I’d have an easier job without you,” Logan shot back dryly. “You raise the crime statistic in every city that you go to, impossibly, more than a few points. It’s almost like chaos and crime follow you, Moriarty.”

Roman preened.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Roman laughed. He threw his head back, the sound echoing across the rooftops. “Not that it matters, any crime that I might or might not bring along gets squashed by you. Just a bunch of little bugs that go squish. Around and around we go, when we’ll stop nobody knows!”

He threw his hands in the air. He tilted back for a precarious moment, dangling between falling back and stay where he was. His grin grew as he watched Logan’s hands twitch towards him before Logan shoved them in his pockets. And Logan claimed he didn’t care.

“We’ll stop once you’re behind bars,” Logan said simply. A confidence in his ability that sent shivers down Roman’s spine. “You can’t keep this up, and when you slip up I’ll be there. No one can run from justice forever. Not someone who can’t help but hurt others like you.”

“Bah!” Roman stuck his tongue out at Logan, “The people you claim I steal from aren’t in need of the reportedly stolen items. I mean, who needs that many jewels just sitting in a bank? No one that’s who.”

“And the people who work at the banks?” Logan raised an eyebrow, and Roman waved him off.

“Anyone working at a bank must be evil. I mean it’s a bank Dear Stalker, a bank! No one except the most shriveled of souls would work for a bank!”

“Now that’s a generalization,” Logan said. His eyes drifted down towards one of the buildings below them, and not for the first time Roman considered asking Logan to join him. To have someone else join him on the roofs and alleyways. Logan’s bright eyes looking over blueprints and a voice other than the music he put on filling the room.

“I’d hate to know what you think about the police,” Logan remarked, reaching up to adjust his glasses. Roman nudged him with his foot, ignoring the nasty look Logan sent to him in return.

“What I think,” Roman said grandly, “is that somewhere in the world there has to be an exception for everything, and if anyone had to be a good man and a good detective then you pull the look off rather well.”

Logan shifted uncomfortably, eyes cutting away from him. Roman frowned. He nudged Logan with his foot again. Logan shoved gently at it.

Roman turned around to face the city skyline. He knew the twinkle of the lights far below was the closest Logan would ever get to stargazing out here. Light pollution, bleh. The wind whistled in the silence between them. Roman glanced at Logan, his soft frown lit up by the golden lights below.

That little crease of worry between his eyebrows made Roman’s skin itchy. He needed to take Logan’s mind off whatever he was thinking. It was a travesty if Logan wasn’t worried about Roman for even a second!

Roman looked over the city again and smirked as his eyes drew to the mansion on the west side. Well, well, nothing screams like “steal me!” like a good ol’ fashioned mansion. Art, jewelry, and most likely some blood money involved.

And a new case for Logan to chase him on. Perfect! Roman shoved Logan’s shoulder for attention until the detective turned to glare at him. Whatever! He could brood on his own time, not Roman’s.

“So, what’s that lovely mansion over there?” Roman said as he thumbed over to it, “I don’t know this city as well you do, Mr. Wikipedia.”

Logan rolled his eyes, “Learning about a city’s history and political atmosphere is exactly why I’m the best detective in the tri-state area. And you need to crack open a book or two instead of stealing them.”

“Tri-state area? Who even says that?” Roman ribbed, smirking at Logan’s red blush of embarrassment, “Plus, you haven’t answered my question. Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

“That.” Logan pointed with a growl, “is Mr. Janius’ mansion. And you can see the infamous tower right next to it.”

“Tower of what?”

“It mainly holds art, artifacts, and it’s also a tourist location because it operates as a museum during the week.” Logan tapped his chin as his look became distant, “I would like to visit it myself but the ticket prices are abysmal. I get paid well but not that well.”

Roman hummed, “Art, you say?”

Logan froze, “No. You cannot be considering to steal from Mr. Janius of all people. The man isn’t like your usual drug dealer, I’m afraid.”

“He’s a man like you said yourself!” Roman leaned in, his breaths puffing in the biting air, “A few smokescreens and some good music, then bam! Moriarty strikes again.” Then quieter as Roman looked away, “And here I thought I’m just as talented as you are, dare I say, best in the tri-state area?’

Logan didn’t laugh or even do that little smirk, instead, the crease between his eyebrows folded deeper, “Don’t do it, you fool. I prefer to be the one to put you behind bars instead of six feet of dirt.”

“Ha!” Roman barked, his amusement trailing off as Logan stared steadily at him. He ignored the unease that skittered down his spine. “Oh come on, Nick Cause-Me-Fury, this is just another tactic to scare me off. You of all people should know by now that something as simple as fear won’t hold me back.”

“Roman!” Logan shouted. Roman startled, and then sucked in a breath as he overbalanced. Damn, he hadn’t wanted end tonight’s conversation quite yet. He reached for his harness, bracing for the drop when a hand clamped around his arm. Roman squawked as he toppled backward instead of forwards.

He threw his hands back, twisting out of Logan’s hold. His palms hit the pavement and he flipped backward. His feet landed with a jarring thump, lacking his usual grace as his heart pounded. He crouched, eyes locked onto Logan.

Logan took a step forward. Roman took a step back.

“You imbecile,” Logan hissed.

“Well that’s just rude,” Roman shot back, “You know that I am perfectly capable of handling a fall like that-”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it!” Logan took another step forward, and this time Roman stayed where he was. Logan gripped his arm and shook it, something wild in his eyes, “Roman you have to promise me. Whatever you do, whoever you decide from steal from. It cannot be Mr. Janius.”

Roman reached out. He wrapped his fingers around Logan’s trembling ones and pulled the other man close. Roman stood on his toes so he could hook his chin over Logan’s shoulder as Logan buried his face in his neck. He dug his fingers into Logan’s back, entertaining the thought of climbing up Logan’s body to try and wring a smile out of the other man.

Logan’s breath hitched, and Roman changed his mind. Logan held him tighter than the harness around his body could ever do. Roman’s smirk disappeared and instead buried his face into Logan’s shoulder.

“I promise I’ll be careful,” Roman said softly. He didn’t promise not to, something he was sure Logan would pick up on once he had calmed down. For now, this had to be enough. Logan was a friend, but he wasn’t the one that Roman would settle down for. Roman didn’t know if he’d ever meet someone who would make him want to stop.

Roman pecked a kiss on Logan’s cheek as he pulled away. Logan groaned and wiped it away with as much drama as possible. Roman smirked as he sauntered back to the railing and clicked himself back onto the rope.

“See you next time, Detective Crofters,” Roman winked as he stood on the other side of the railing, “Don’t worry about little ol’ me.”

“Roman--”

He fell before he could hear the rest of Logan’s lecture. Down, down, the wind howled as he dived past floors and offices. His laughter swept up in the wind as he freefell from the skyscraper. The building had nearly a hundred floors and yet it wasn’t the tallest one around. Then an audible click broke his peace.

Roman slowed to a stop as the ground approached to meet him. He dangled in his harness next to an innocuous window left open. Some office of a pencil pusher on the tenth floor. Roman swung towards the opening and landed inside. He clicked himself out of the harness and then tugged firmly down on the rope.

A few moments later, the rope went lax and fell with a graceful thump against the building. Roman didn’t worry about anyone witnessing his little escapade since no one was awake at three in the morning. He needed to be out and gone in under five minutes. The exact time it would take Logan to walk to the elevator and get back to the lobby. And his hunt would begin again.

Roman wouldn’t let himself be caught so easily! He made quick work of shoving the rope into his bag. He threw on a giant green coat to cover his clothes and harness and shoved on a hat. He walked out of the office, the security cameras set to be wiped in two minutes, and opened the stairwell instead of the elevators next to it.

He ran down the stairs until he arrived at the lobby. The elevators here were marbled and shone despite the dreariness of the first ten floors reserved for the plebians. Roman went through the security with a stolen pass card and a wave at ‘Steve’. Oh, how easily everyone trusted strangers the minute they said their name.

Roman smirked as he heard the elevator ding far behind him just as he walked through the large double doors. Logan, Logan, always too late. He heard a shout and then bolted. He bit back cackles as he dove around the corner, leaving Logan behind.

Always, always leaving everything behind.

Roman grinned to himself and he ducked towards where the crowds would be at this time of night and hummed to himself. A fun, successful meeting with Logan and a moment where he felt like he could fly. His grin widened.

And a whole new heist to plan.

Ok, so Logan wasn’t entirely wrong, Roman would admit as he stared down at the mansion below him. The security measures were absolutely insane. Roman took out his phone to glance at the blueprints one last time. Lasers, fingerprints, pressure plates, the works. Roman ran a hand through his hair as he ran through his heist plan again.

“It’ll work,” Roman muttered to himself, “Six weeks of planning can’t go down the drain so quickly. You’re the best thief ever, so act like it!”

Roman put the phone back in his supply bag. Even the minute radioactivity from his phone would set off an alarm. Whoever Mr. Janius was, he was one paranoid cockroach of a man. Roman adjusted his black beanie and pulled on his leather gloves. Sometimes he wished he wore more colorful heist clothing but then he wouldn’t be the best thief out there.

The thing was- despite the fact that Mr. Janius had security that looked almost like he was trying to keep someone in as much as others out- there was one hole in the whole mess. According to the blueprints that Roman had managed to acquire, the room at the very top of the tower was kept empty.

Strange, for someone so prepared, but if he was going to give Roman a way to waltz right in, Roman wasn’t going to complain.

Roman adjusted his beanie one last time and narrowed his eyes at the mansion. The roof of the building he stood on lined up with the tower even if it only reached a fraction of the height. Which meant that he could reach into his bag and use the grappling hook that he had brought and line it up at the tower.

The moonlight shone overhead, giving off just enough light that Roman could eyeball where he needed to aim for. The pressure plates and motion detectors only ran up so far Roman had found. At least that’s what he suspected, from his weeks of casing the joint.

Logan had also been right about how ridiculous those ticket prices were.

If he aimed high enough he could set up a zip line between his current position and the tower.

The power behind the shot and the length of the rope were longer than normal, but considering that Mr. Janius was apparently paranoid enough to have a certain distance between his mansion and the rest of the city, it was needed. The light of the mansion shadowed the side of the tower that he stared at. The wind blew through his hair and Roman corrected his aim to account for it.

The crossbow in his hand clicked as he fired. The hook whistled, and Roman took a moment to appreciate the time and money he had spent to find a rope that would blend into the night sky. He stayed as still as possible so that he wouldn’t throw off the flight of the grappling hook.

The hook and his grin clicked into place. He tugged on the rope, checking to make sure that it was truly secure. His heart raced as he planted his feet. His gloves slide across the rope, and Roman couldn’t help the wildness that slipped into his expression.

He lived for moments like these.

The adrenaline raced through his veins. The high of breaking the law; the absolute freedom in doing whatever the hell he wanted. The ability to overcome any challenge that stood in his way. There wasn’t anything Roman would choose over it. Not even the friendship Logan offered would stop him. There was just no way it could stand up to the feeling of flight and adventure of Roman’s lifestyle.

He let his crossbow drop and anchored his end of the rope to the rooftop. His hands were steady as he reached for the pulleys he needed to attach. Roman clicked them on and pulled on them. He’d rather not fall from a measly eighteen-floor height when he’d scaled far higher skyscrapers than that. Roman smirked as he craned to look upwards.

Getting the blueprints? A few dates with one of Mr. Janius’ employees (wonderful guy in bed!), some death threats, and some delicious photographs to keep as souvenirs. Or to release to the press, he didn’t mind either way, although it would be a shame that people wouldn’t see his face. The camera loved him!

Roman clicked himself to the rope attached to the pulley and held the handlebars until his gloves creaked with the strain. Now, the building he stood on top of? Nigh impossible! Employees around the clock and security cameras off the top of the line. He had to call in a few favors to break into it. Fortunately, this building had art pieces of its own and his good friends (read: hackers) believed it was the very thing he chased after. Even if he wasn’t entirely happy about forking over a significant amount of his money for it.

At least Logan didn’t charge him anything! A better friend than they could ever be. Roman took in a breath as his finger hovered on the button to take him up. Nerves twisted and flopped in his stomach. Oh, Logan would kill him if he knew about this.

Roman didn’t realize how hard it was to plan a second heist to throw Logan off his trail. Some building downtown with enough jewelry to choke a dragon. A few ‘forgotten’ blueprints were more than enough to send the detective on the case. One thing Logan had gotten right, the heist was tonight, but he didn’t know where.

Once Logan got his fair share of breaking a sex trafficking ring in the building’s basement, and with no stolen jewelry. The jig would be up. Roman swallowed, he could just say he was sick? And skipped out on his own heist? Roman shook his head, he couldn’t worry about Logan now, not when he could taste victory so close.

Roman muttered a brief prayer and turned the pulley on. The pulley whirled, a quiet hum in the dead of night, and the wind whistled through Roman’s hair. He slid smoothly up the line, flying over the well-kept grounds. Roman dangled from his harness as it came to a stop inches from the tower. Only a few floors from the balcony above. The only flaw in the tower’s grand design.

Roman grinned, “If you could only see me now, brainiac.”

He reached out, planting his hands on the brick walls. Light from a window shone from his left. He couldn’t quite make out the best places for handholds on his climb but he wasn’t known as the best for nothing. His feet scrambled against the wall before he managed to wedge them into a hole.

He let out a careful breath and reached for his harness. He wouldn’t unclip himself all the way, not when there was a slim chance he could fall, but he would let out the slack on the line. He froze at the high whine that pierced the silence.

The golden glow of the window flashed into a harsh red. Roman flinched, his heart jumping to his throat. An alarm? Which one had he set off?! He shook himself. That didn’t matter now. He needed to get out of there.

He leaned back to kick off the wall but paused as he caught sight of the balcony above him.

It would be smartest to cut his losses now. Security was a bitch and Logan would tear him apart to shreds for this attempt. He wouldn’t get another one. His hand hovered over the pulley, and in a swift decisive move, he unclipped his harness. He clawed at his chest to take it off and tried not to think about the way his body swung over the drop. The fingers of his hand still clinging to the wall ached from the pull of his weight.

Roman sucked in a deep breath and threw his whole back into the force of his swing. The alarm echoed through his ears as glass shattered and his harness went flying through the window. He cursed the loss of his gear, but he was so close. His gloves would keep from fingerprints being found on them, and it wasn’t like anyone other than Logan would identify it as his on sight.

Homemade gear made him so much harder to track after all.

He used the momentum of his swing to reach for the next weak point in the wall. He breathed heavily as he climbed, moving as fast as he dared. His feet scraped against the wall as he struggled to find places to put them, simply pressing them against the brick to propel himself up higher half the time.

Shouts drifted from the window he had broken, and Roman couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face. Let them try and catch him now! They’d think he was on that floor and Roman would be free to reach his blind spot.

His hand clamped around the balcony railing, and he swung himself upwards. He flipped over the edge and took a moment to simply breathe. The solid ground against his feet was a relief he’d never voice aloud. His eyes scanned the area for dangers, a crease growing between them as he caught sight of a set of paints simply laying out.

Roman suck in a sharp breath at the curtains on the glass covered door and cursed.

Had he gotten the room wrong? Impossible, the blueprints he had stolen were dated for only a few months ago. There was no way they had time to renovate to this extent.

Roman inched forward, stepping over the half-finished canvas on the ground. A studio of some sort then. A guest room? Roman slid the glass door open. He pulled back the curtains. His breath caught as his eyes met the deepest shade of blue he had ever seen.

Roman fell in love instantly.

Oh, such gorgeous freckles! Soft brown curls framing his rapidly paling face. Roman took another step inside. It appeared to be the man’s bedroom with the bed in one corner and a closet on the other. He looked around and whistled. He’s never seen a bedroom look straight out of a fancy magazine before. Damn.

Roman winced as he heard the distant alarms from far below. Well, enough of that! He turned around to click the glass doors shut. The sound cut off. Thank god, he hated that shrill pitch that made him want to claw his own ears off. Roman took a breath and put his best charming and dazzling smile. Time to impress the love of his life!

Roman turned around and yelped at the man standing right next to him.

“Well hello there, gorgeous,” Roman smirked as the man reddened, “I came in through the window, dreadful etiquette I know!”

The man blinked.

“You know, like from Heathers?” Roman said, then sighed at the blank expression, “Never mind that! I simply have to know your name! Please?” The man fidgeted but didn’t stop his wide-eyed stare at Roman, “Oh, how rude of me, my name is Roman! There, now you know.”

“...Patton,” Patton whispered.

Roman’s eyes sparkled at Patton’s adorably low voice, “My god, Patton, you’re the most handsome man I ever met! Although I wished we met in better circumstances.”

“You came in through my window,” Patton said, his voice wobbled with fear, “Ho-how did you get here?”

Roman winced, “Yeah about that. I admit it’s not the most romantic of meetings, or maybe it is? No, wait it’s romantic later on in a relationship. My apologies.”

He swept into a dramatic bow, trying to resist the urge to pull his beanie off for effect. He glanced up at Patton and blinked. The surprise on Patton’s face felt off, and Roman racked his brain for what could have caused it now. He straightened from the bow and shifted awkwardly.

He chuckled and scratched the back of his neck.

“Perhaps I should come back later? What time works best for you? Please don’t say neve-”

Roman’s mouth slammed shut at the sound of footsteps approaching the room.

“Fuck,” he cursed, spinning on his heel back towards the balcony. If he hurried, he could still make it in time to climb somewhere he wouldn’t be caught. If he got caught he couldn’t be able to visit Patton again! His heart stopped as a hand clamped around his wrist and dragged him in a different direction.

“What the hell?” he yelped as Patton shoved him towards the closet.

Roman blinked as found himself surrounded by some of the nicest clothes he had ever seen. Silk brushed against his arms as Patton’s lips pursed. Patton lifted a hand to his lips, and Roman bit back a squeal at how adorable the sight was.

“Stay quiet!” Patton whispered forcefully. “Stay here and-”

He cut off and slammed the door shut, leaving Roman to flinch back from the sudden darkness. He held his breath as Patton’s footsteps retreated, mixing with the creak of the door opening. His heart pounded in his ears. He shifted forward, wincing as two of the hangers around him clinked together.

“Father!” Patton cried out, and Roman’s eyes widened.

“My dear Patton,” an oily voice replied, wait that couldn’t be-- “Someone tried to get into my tower. Have you seen anyone?’

Roman researched Mr. Janius, as par the course when planning heists, and he had listened to the many interviews of the man. Knew his voice, his face, it had to be him! Oh fuck, if Patton gave him up, he was so dead. Logan wouldn’t even be able to identify his remains. Something rustled as Mr. Janius stalked around the room.

“No, Father.” Patton said.

Roman didn’t dare to breathe. He froze as a shadow darkened the thin line of light between the closet doors. The handle rattled as Roman wrote up his own eulogy. One of his few regrets would have to be that he didn’t take Patton out on a date. Even if his father had more cruelty in a pinky than the whole of the top ten in the FBI’s most wanted list.

“Will you be staying even if you don’t find them?” Patton blurted out, and the rattling of the handle paused. Silence hung for a heartbeat. Roman couldn’t breathe. “You haven’t visited in so long and I-”

“Patton,” Mr. Janius cut him off. “Do I look like I have time for that? You may not be smart but I would have hoped that you know now of all times is not for silly questions. This thief could be after you, or our artworks.”

Roman inched closer to the closet doors, wanting to be ready to run if Mr. Janius did throw them open. He’d only have one shot. He peered through the crack in the door. He caught a quick glimpse of Patton fiddling with the cardigan around his shoulders before Mr. Janius’ back blocked his view.

“...you’re right of course Father,” Patton murmured, “I’m sorry. I just-”

Patton fell silent once more. Janius took a step forward and Roman breathed as the man left the closet behind. He had a chance now. Logan wouldn’t have to be mailed his will. Yes!

“You just thought you knew better than me,” Mr. Janius said softly. He sighed. “You know better than that Patton. All I want is to keep you safe.” Roman peeked through the crack again to see Mr. Janius rub Patton’s cheek tenderly with a thumb, “Is that so awful?”

Patton’s eyes flickered away, “No, Father. I’ll see you on Friday, then?”

Mr. Janius ruffled Patton’s hair, “Of course, love.”

Mr. Janius left with nothing more than a loud click. He locked the door behind him. Roman shuddered out a breath as he sat in the closet. He didn’t want to know what sort of wrath he’d evoke from a papa bear like Mr. Janius if he knew what sort of thoughts he had about Patton already. The closet doors swung open and his breath died, such beauty stupefied him. Roman couldn’t help it!

“Wow…” Roman breathed, “You’re positively sublime, do you have me bewitched or something? Cause I’m under your spell. Or I could be under you?”

“What?” Patton said, tilting his head, then shook away his confusion, “Father left, but I don’t know when he’ll be back. You have to leave as soon as you can.”

Roman’s heart shattered to the floor as he realized Patton was simply too innocent to catch his insinuations, “Thank you, no really, I do appreciate it.”

Roman stepped out of the closet and stretched until his bones popped. Patton’s eyes flickered between the door and him. Roman felt like a teenager again, sneaking into some strange boy’s room, and avoiding the parents’ in the process. He bent down and picked up Patton’s hand and kissed his knuckles.

“If there’s anything I can show my gratitude..” Roman whispered as he looked up at Patton’s solid red blush, “I’d be more than welcome to do it.”

“A-ah, well, I guess,” Patton stuttered as Roman winked, “I do get pretty lonely. Maybe you can come visit me?”

Roman stood up with a smirk, “Of course, it would be my greatest pleasure. When may I expect to see you again?”

Patton twined his fingers through Roman’s as he looked up with a shy smile, “How about same time next week?”

“I’d be honored.” Roman agreed with a giddy grin. He hadn’t stolen any art, but perhaps, he had been given the chance to steal something worth even more than that. He squeezed Patton’s hand gently before disentangling himself. He let his fingers drag across Patton’s palm. “Next week then, dearest Patton.”

He paused at the door. Wait. Roman felt his face flush in embarrassment. He had no idea of how he was going to get down. He hesitated, not wanting to ruin his perfect exit. He wanted to win Patton over after all! Roman opened the glass doors with a flourish and gently stepped across the balcony to lean over the edge. He couldn’t jump down.

Not unless he wanted to die.

And he rather had taken Patton on a date before dying. Then he lived his life to the fullest. Other heists be damned. Roman calculated the distance down, if he only got closer, then he would have lesser chances of dying.

He could climb down but he didn’t know if he could do it again. His fingers still stung from the strain on the way up. And he rather not overstay his welcome like some uncivilized guest.

“Do...do you need help?” Patton asked as Roman whirled around, “I don’t know how you got here, but I can try?”

Roman’s chest warmed with fuzzy feelings, “I hate to ask anything of you, but I may need your bedsheets. Unfortunately not to sleep on them.”

Patton scrunched his cute high brow nose from the doorway, “Then what for?”

Roman held his breath as he swung from the end of the bedsheets. He didn’t know how long they would hold but they brought him close enough that he could jump for the remains of his zip-line. He closed his eyes and pictured Patton’s bright eyes, his adorable cheeks, the softness of his palms.

It would only be a week until Roman was him again, but what a painful week it would be.

Love felt just like holding a stolen jewel in his hands.

Roman opened his eyes again. He needed to get ready. Patton deserved only the best and Roman would need all the time he could get to prepare for that. He took a deep breath-

and jumped.

#sanders sides #royality #sanders sides fic #patton sanders #roman sanders #ts deceit #not a hair but a heart of gold #logan sanders #sanders sides au

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sugar-petals · 6 years ago

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Hey. As I said in my previous ask, I think you are so darn smart, and I love your writing skills. If it's not going to bother... Could you, please, read my recent oneshot (akai-ito)? I need honest opinions on it, mainly coming from someone who writes and has no sentimental connection with me. (Only if it's not going to bother you) Thank you :)

Honest and a writer 😄 You’re at the right address I’m thinking. For a sweet please and Yoongi fics I’d probably do anything. The infamous review it is. I employ my classic critique structure (title-description-plot-characterization-grammar-dialogue), as always with strengths and improvement points, hope it is helpful, and here we go.

Title: As most pieces on your m.list, you possess good sense when it comes to selecting what catches the eye and stays memorable. Definitely unique and a summary of the story, although much like with ishin-denshin, it took me a while to figure out what it’s about. That can be a strength (innovation/tension!) or a weakness (confusion). Make use of the former by giving the reader bread crumbs. Authors have to play Hansel and Grethel as we say here in Germany. For instance, maybe you’ve seen it, some fic writers give definitions to foreign or complex words under the title right away, maybe you can drop at least a hint about the yarn and that the idea is from a manga/series, important crediting there. Something else that might also be relevant according to recent events, be careful there with using Japanese words should you not be a native speaker. The Ariana Grade tattoo effect is very real and a slippery slope. Solution: Best clarify everything at the start, or make a disclaimer. Other than that, you don’t need much advice with titles imo, never change a running system.

Description: It strikes me that you are an advanced writer. There’s solid attention to detail. Definitely keep that up. The common downside, and here is the crux, is trailing off. Bear in mind to tailor detail according to relevance versus background story and worldbuilding. Each piece needs to interlink with something else sooner or later, repetition matters as an emotional anchor. That’s the extra mile to go and the step from advanced to senior writer. The key to describing, unless your name is Oscar Wilde, is often linearity. You can only break it up once you’ve mastered it. Good news, I think you’re already getting there. I see things like consistent tense, great syntax variation, and a POV switch at the right point in time.

Plot: What you are excellent at is creating ups and downs. A lot of effort went into this. That can’t be messed with. An important component, however, is missing. Most authors turn defensive when I point it out so I’ll word it step by step and show a trick to solve it. The alpha and omega of Caro’s advice remains nailing a character’s actions to hook the reader, not just during the smut scenes. A crucial example: The boss firing Jade is not placed at the start — as the most dramatic event in the earlier sequences — and thus loses momentum. It’s a well-orchestrated event and twist, that’s why it’s so essential to add emphasis. The characterizations + foreshadowing that led up to it are proper. But it has to come down like a hammer; not with indirect phrases that make it seem like something trite. Which it is not given how dear work is to Jade as a comfort zone. You describe her leaving angry, but not her face, what she does, the environment, other characters. It’s only trailing off into a semi-monologue with background information that should be self-evident through things that happened earlier. I want to see the hammer. You only bring it in the dialogue but there, it’s secondary to the verbatim of the characters, as it should be, mind you. Solution: Draw the hands-on sentences from the dialogue into the plot. Then we’re good to go. Problem solved.

Characterization: Little to no objections here on the other hand, very well done. It’s one of the pillars of your writing. I’ll tell you why it is good. It maps out the different lifestyles from your characters which creates a nice contrast, especially with Jade’s concerns in life, and her core motivation (stability). Yoongi’s portrayal impressed me, too. All quite effortless. Even the names themselves, I quite like them, brings a lot of pizzazz. Definitely use them often, things like “the skinny man”, “the woman”, “the dark-haired female” are best converted into simple adjectives for description along the way. The Chaos Club: Also a good idea to have.

Grammar: Pretty salient, I see it in the way you chop your subclauses which I love. Not much to improve except the bit with caps. If you want to use texting sequences in your fic, definitely don’t hesitate. It may read as off in the paragraph but sits just right in a written message exchange. Which also depicts reality well. Now, the reason why I have issues with caps is that you only need them once emphasis is not clear enough through context. You can test out whether italics are a more sophisticated fit, it depends on the scene. If someone yells, incorporate that in the description, put an exclamation mark — yes, the old-fashioned way, I’m a conservative critic I know, it’s annoying. The only caps you need are the ones for saying korean - nations always with capital, geography pun intended. No other grammar concerns, that’s basically it.

Dialogue: Interesting how you use hyphens there. It’s much like everything about your style, very much in its own bubble. That can be a good sign of authenticity. Took a while to get accustomed to it for me, but it’s a stylistic and individual choice, whatever works best and is comfortable. The reason why I probably missed the quotations marks is not an aesthetic one, but because the words of the characters blend into description quite seamlessly. It’s hard to picture their voices that way. What other readers think about it, maybe gather some more opinions how they get by with the hyphens. If I were to use them, my trick for next time writing would be to start a new line for each particle of speech while the description is not attached after the hyphen. It makes it very deliberate and sets pace, too. It gets rid of ‘said’ quite conveniently and brings out stronger verbs. As in:

The man binned his cellphone in one of the back pockets.– Nice to meet you, Jade.

That has suspense and sex appeal. See how it differs from the original:

– Nice to meet you, Jade. - The man said and binned his cellphone in one of the back pockets.

Apart from that, something else to improve in dialogue is not stating the very obvious sometimes, but letting readers put things together in their head. That’s harder when Jade uses the exact tone of the narrator and not her own. Examples: ‘I’m visibly punchy’, ‘Before listening to his depressive songs and staring at his cute eyes and cheeks, I was satisfied with my nonexistent romantic life, now I’m considering the idea of nurturing a very dirty business.’, ‘I never felt another warm sensation other than tears, whilst watching some emotional crap on Netflix’. Dialogue does well contrasting to how the story is told. Bring all the slang, make it fragmented like real speech, fuck it up, it’s the fun part. You do have the registers and pull them off, that’s not the issue, only finding the right place to use them is the challenge.

Other: Something funny happened. I missed the URL mention and thought Jade was an OC and not an existing person! 😅 Took some time until I managed to immerse myself in the story because I’m not used to seeing singular users inserted as readers. It’s one-to-one and hard to get into as an outsider, which surely is not the purpose, but it would help to understand who Jade is in relation to you, and how the fic idea came about. That can be quite entertaining as well in the author’s notes. That being said, she is living the dream and being Yoongi biased myself I feel rather envious which means you achieved plausibility in your fic. Maybe it’s because he has black hair and round cheeks in it. Am very endeared.

PS: I get paid in fic reblogs for reviews 😉 Am half kidding. Speaking of the devil, for the love of my dash, please insert a keep reading so I can reblog.

#unimpressedperson #ask #bts fic #fic rec #rec #fic review

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shadowmaat · 3 years ago

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One of the most asinine arguments I've heard in favor of this "Army Surplus dumpster diver" look is "How could anyone take him seriously if he was some weirdo covered in question marks?" And like. Look. I'm not even a Batfan, but even I know that Batman is A) superhero fiction and B) filled with absolute ridiculousness.

You're gonna look me straight in the eye and say a dude dressed in green & black question marks is somehow less valid than a guy in literal clown makeup? Or a lady who controls plants? Or a guy RAISED BY PENGUINS? Or a mf'in SHARKMAN? But yeah, some guy dressed like this:

Or this:

Or even THIS:

is somehow "ruining" the tone of Batman? Read your fucking comic books, pals. First of all, comics- especially ones like Batman (and DC/Marvel in general) should never take themselves too seriously. They're popcorn flicks. Blockbusters. Not Intellectual Cinema.

And second, did you ever think of the effect of cognitive/visual dissonance? You have some grim gritty serious no-fun-allowed BS premise and then some ponce in a flashy green suit shows up and throws everything into chaos. He'd be scary because he doesn't look like a serious threat.

But also, again, movies like this are allowed to be FUN. They don't have to be some extra dark-filtered, desaturated, demoralizing grim-fest. Riddler, like many other Bat-villains, is supposed to be over-the-top. He's supposed to have style. Pizzazz. PRESENTATION!

I've also seen it argued that the new Riddler is supposed to be modeled on the Zodiac Killer, which is, uh... certainly a take. A "take it to the trash bin and leave it there." Because WTF? "Well, he used cyphers, too, so it's the same thing!" No. No, it isn't. Not even a little bit. But if that really is the gimmick they're going with it's a HUGE step down in story development for Ed Nygma. You don't have to ground comic characters in "reality" because they aren't fucking real.

Ye gods, just let the word nerd wear his silly green suit and stop trying to make comic books realistic. It's far more fun when they aren't.

Oh, but I forgot. Fun is the mind-killer. Fun is the little death that brings total obliteration. *yawn* Whatever, dudes.

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podcake · 7 years ago

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Week Two: Lesser Gods Review

Week two of the “Encouraging Innovation” review month came by much quicker than I had planned. Upon binge listening to what I could of The Bridge to deliver a review of the best quality I could muster, I found myself having to repeat the process to keep this schedule nice and tidy.

All the while working part time five days a week to one day build up the funds for my own audio based project, I immediately had to buckle down and listen to what current episodes are available for a more recent fiction podcast, Lesser Gods, to get my thoughts down on paper and put time aside for The Adventures of Mecha Betty before next Friday presses on.

Upon knowing about my theme for this year’s review month, my friend/escort/associate/only-person-who-can-navigate-Atlanta-during-the-chaos-of-DragonCon-better-than-me assured over a white tin of Indian food that my current roster consisted of some very fitting titles, and Lesser Gods being especially suitable for this year’s theme. To which I agreed before we both exited the crowded food court to take the streets once more. And like most things, she was right.

For those who have gotten their hands dirty by listening to Lesser Gods, you may know from the get-go why I chose it to be a review in my “innovation” month. There’s nothing about Lesser Gods that doesn’t spark with creativity from its premise to its effective use of drama and dialogue.

In a version of the future where humanity suddenly loses the ability to reproduce, the five youngest people on earth, all around the age of their early twenties, are kept under close surveillance while the world desperately tries to cling to any possible resolution to humanity likely going extinct. Creator Colleen Scriven describes it as a “soundscaped, shifting perspective, murder mystery podcast” and that very much summarizes the whole experience.

Things kick off fairly quickly as the first episode pulls a Greater Boston and has someone’s death be a springboard off the events and reactions of the main characters. From there it spirals into a case of whodunit as our characters squabble to protect themselves, their loved ones, and their reputations if it means staying alive without drawing in the wrong kind of attention.

Lesser Gods is that of the single narrator-multiple characters variety of podcasts with a single actor, at least two per episode, normally playing multiple parts as if relaying the information from a memory. Much like with SABLE, it can vary between strengthening the scene or making things a little more difficult to comprehend, though Lesser Gods has a fairly creative way of embedding it into its moments, namely helped by the effective acting of the cast.

Something that truly makes it shine and strengthens the tense-ridden core of the story is that the characters acting as narrator for their fifteen minutes of limelight or more are still very much themselves during. This can cause whatever perspective we’re taking at the time to provide a skewed look at the current scenario or a character we’ve already grown to know, truly making their views all the more prominent and often clashing with someone else’s.

Lesser Gods is a rather slow pace endeavor, mostly consisting of conversation after conversation of everyone trying to piece together the mess they’ve been given as well as personal accounts of their own problems. It might be too slow for some and even I found myself dozing off in the middle of episodes if I wasn’t quite engaged in the current dialogue taking place, waiting for a character with a little more pizzazz in their deliveries (Rhea) to take the stage again. It’s certainly not a podcast for people who enjoy long, measured and intimate exchanges to make a sizable portion of the episodes. It’s a patient climb though a worthwhile one once things start to pick up and the five youths’ more self destructive behavior starts to shine. A specific moment in Chapter Six always comes to mind when I bring this up and the scene truly does summarize a lot of Lesser Gods’ appeal.

The show is abundant with a sense of hedonism and an underlying sensual and taboo energy reminiscent of reality show television programs. There is a constant vibe of depravity woven into the narrative that is understandable given the fact humanity may be close to utter extinction and this mindset of carpe diem oozes its way into the leads with varying levels of success. Reality show comparisons and at times YA literature also arise in its choice of simple, focused narration and the use of sound design used to invoke feelings of a controlled space, undercut by synth music during piques of emotional energy. The characters, namely our central female lead, are just distinct enough to be likable and you’ll likely be finding a favorite within the first few episodes.

Mine is Rhea. Did I mention I like Rhea?

Those who may not derive enjoyment from this kind of interpersonal drama may not be all that enthused to give it a listen, instead preferring what might arise from the murder mystery elements. And in that department, you will be entertained. It’s during these tenser moments that the description truly shines and though the real speculation about who the culprit could be doesn’t really arise until later, the wait for it is at least exciting in that methodical kind of way.

The slow pace through the current stretch of episodes may be a little too much mystery and not enough murder for some, Lesser Gods preferring to approach the scenario from a gritty yet realistic view, but those interested in this type of character study will have plenty to sink into.

With only one season’s worth of twelve episodes to process, it can be a bit hard to gather up a well-rounded opinion. It doesn’t yet feel like Lesser Gods has gotten into any especially dangerous territory, still trying to establish it’s characters and world, but that is to be expected from a starting point.

There are plenty of twists and turns to anticipate with what is available, and its final few episodes will certainly get invested listeners prying for more content. There is a broad and branching mystery slowly becoming unraveled piece by piece and what fragments we’ve been given have certainly got me eager to see what direction Lesser Gods will be going with these ideas.

Lesser Gods has a great premise, a likable ragtag group of leads, some solid writing and a unique and refreshing take only it seems capable of pulling off effectively. Youth is fleeting but this good story seems like its willing to stay.

#lesser gods #review #september in review #podcast #week two

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serialiize · 5 years ago

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@appledaddytm ✘ starter

There was a slight wobble in his step . He moved with purpose nonetheless . Perhaps he had a little too much to drink , but it was much too late to turn back now . He was already 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 in a warm buzz , but even in his drunkenness , he still somehow managed to uphold his dignity , “ I have a proposal . ”

His claws lifted , flexing each digit with a pizzazz in his haunting charm , “ A temporary partnership between us . ” An alliance he craved to explore . Lids narrowed in thought , daydreaming of mischief and sweet 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄 with a fond smile . A spark of static . He practically hummed out the words , “ Imagine the enticing chaos we could bring in all its entertainment . ” His head bobbed side to side in his ticklish laughter , rolling over the words in his head . “ We’d make a delectable melody , you and I . ”

#appledaddytm #( here's a drunk alastor. bon appetit )#. ( 🇮🇨 ) ✘ 🇧🇷🇴🇦🇩🇨🇦🇸🇹🇮🇳🇬 .

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cutegirlmayra · 7 years ago

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Helping a young writer out, care to take a peek? :)

So... let's see... First I would start with their normal routine, normal life, before anything were to disturb that- for example:

Amy rushed into the crowd, trying to push or scoot her way through before parting two fangirls and seeing Sonic at the top of a skyscraper, taking down a fiendish foe-!... oh wait, that's Eggman's contraption. She pouted, but relieved he wasn't in 'too' much danger...

So there's a start to how she worries, and then has full confidence in him.this sets up her initials feelings. giving us a place to start.

Her head darted up when someone cried out and noticed Sonic was pushed down by the robotic lizard, and scrapping his perfectly handsome face against the screen. She smacked both hands to the sides of her face, devastated by the turn of events. "Soooniccc!!" she cried out, rushing to try and get closer to him. Maybe even save him! "Get back please." a police officer threw an arm out and pushed her back with the rest of the crowd; though it didn't hurt her, she was upset by the rough-housing.

"H-hey!" She struggled to break free and finally did, ducking under his arm to break into the building. Police went in after her, "Get back here, little girl!" she huffed, folding her arms after already pushing the button up to the highest floor on the skyscraper. She 'hmph'd at the authority and turned her head snottily away as the doors closed. They lunged in after her, but the doors slammed in their faces. "Nothing's keeping me from my Sonic!" she bluntly huffed, and then put her hands to her hips, nodding sternly her fixed decision. She looked up to the roof of the elevator, stepping more into it's center and seeming worried now, gentler in her appearance as she clutched her hands together and up by her face. "Sonic..."

Now we're building conflict, something out of the norm that disturbs the natural flow. we also have our first obstacle, the policemen, which Amy narrowly skimmed by. We also introduce Amy's sass and determination in getting to Sonic. A character trait we happily show off to give her personality, pizzazz, and have the audience begin to like her. (Charm/lovability.)There should be 3 obstacles in almost every storyline. that's story 101, learned that in script writing xD

When the doors burst open, Amy took a second to worriedly look around, seeing the ceiling dust crumble down in debris she ducked her head and immediately dashed out. The elevator cracked and tilted, before falling straight down as she turned back and gawked a moment. She shook her head before hearing a robotic cry behind her and saw the Lizoid slash a metallic tongue through the long window, reaching in for her. "AHH!!" she kicked her legs as it grabbed her and hoisted her up. "Who-ho-ho-ho! What do we have here?" Eggman swerved his eggpod over and laughed his usual dynamic, before Sonic broke from his fighting stance, seeing Amy in danger. "Amy!"

(now we have our first encounter. Obviously, this can be changed to fit any scenario) Again, this is all opinion and I'm no where need perfect, so take with you little odd and in things, and please, don't be overwhelmed. I'm here for you :)

"Grr... Let me go! Let me go! Hey-! You didn't even give me time to bring out my hammer..! I'd have clobbered you by now! Ohhh!!" Amy whined and squirmed, as the Lizoid held her out as Eggman rambled on his usual way, "Well, well... seems the court is on my side now, Sonic!" He strutted himself almost as he angled himself to the right, and stroked his mustache on one side... "If you want your precious little girlfriend back.. I'd suggest handing over the Chaos Emerald! You wouldn't want anything to..." The lizoid adjusted it's clawed footing and held his tongue over the side of the skyscraper, making Sonic sweat-drop as he saw what Eggman was implying... "BeFALL her.. now.. would you?"

More complication, meaning obstacle two. Now it's important to have some banter between Sonic and Amy at this point. Because we need some reaction from Sonic, which you normally wouldn't get in reality, but in fanfiction, we try to make the bond a little more apparent then the cartoons or games do, which don't touch on the matter so 'specifically' as we do.

Sonic took some in before shaking his head and letting it out. "You just couldn't keep yourself grounded,.. could you, Amy?"

Sonic's wit is something that is sometimes looked at negatively, it's important to keep him charming/lovable to the audience as well. You need to make it clear that his ‘annoyance’ is not so much to Amy, but the situation. otherwise, people will believe Sonic's a jerk. To counteract this, you should consider showing Sonic through Amy's eyes. It helps manipulate the audience through her view, other than Sonic's which is often times less sensitive. This comes off badly to audiences who are looking for some 'tender moments' too. This where detail can really grab your readers too and send butterflies through them as well!

Amy stopped her excessive contesting to look towards the main and only reason she even dared scaled this fleet in the first place. "..Sonic!!" her legs spread out though her arms were caught in the robot's grip, as a feeling of safety, joy, and excitement grew in her! Like a wave, it crashed over her fears and even the stern look from his eyes as he stated, "I'm gonna get you out of there, Amy!" Made her whole heart swoon and her body tilt to the side. She didn't mind getting captured and used against her will... so long as he was always and forever going to be... her hero~<3 He saw her lean and thought her to be fainting, and quickly, to try and calm her, smiled to reassure it would be alright. To further this action of care, he lightly spoke out to her, "Don't worry, Amy. I won't take long. I promise." this tender reply sent another burst of excitement through her, like rapid bubbles that tickled her from within and made her feel lightheaded... although, that could be from the thinner air. Her squealing of joy made Eggman cover his ears, before swiping himself into Sonic's frame of sight, "HELLLOOO??? Looming death over here! How do you expect to keep that promise, eh? Lover boy!?" Sonic glared and frowned, ducking himself down, as if... "Oh no." Eggman's mustache drooped as he saw Sonic about to- "He's going to bounce!!! AHH!!" He scurried his hands in front of himself and had his eggpod zip left and right, as worry flung from his face like sweat drops as he tried to avoid the inevitable spin attack!

So, i did a few things here. I not only showed Amy's pov to entertain and grip the audience into a type of 'emotion' but then I brought in Sonic's alternative viewpoint. This is essential in keeping in character, because it’s a character trait of these two to misinterpret the other at times.

Sonic curled up and reeled himself up to go! Charging the Lizoid's tongue! But as his quill-like blade began to rotate to slash, Eggman cried out, "MOVE, YOU IMBECILE!" And the Lizoid rose it's head up and moved it's tongue back. When all looked lost, Amy cried out, "Sonic!!!" Worried he was going to fall off completely! But, in the nick of time, Sonic homing attacked and brought himself back to the lizoid. "WHAT!?" Eggman gripped his head, amazed but not fully surprised since he knew Sonic's ability to lock-on to targets from far distances. "Drat! Drop the girl and let's get out of here!" he hit a button as the Lizoid was slashed and hit repeatedly, before tossing the girl off the building and whimpering up to Eggman's machine. "What are you crying about!? Get off my machine, you'll weigh us both down-OH NO!!!" he started to hear the engine overworking as his eggpod hovered downward, then tilted as a small explosion steamed at the bottom of it... "Oh dear... AHHH!!!" the two feel as the lizoid let out a metallic cry.

This ties loose ends. -shrugs- This is where the squees and pillow gripping in glee come in. Also angst lol XD people like that these days. With obstacle two cleared, we’re on to three, the climax, where you really need to nail them hard! We've built the tension consisting in Amy, and the 'evidence of care' in Sonic, now it's time to wrap the two together in those emotions!

As Amy fell, tears escaped her eyes as her flight or fight response kicked in. "HEELLPPP!!" she cried out, holding her hands towards herself instead of out, and closing her eyes in terror. 'Is this really how I go?' she lightly squeezed her hands, feeling the air whisk by her so rapidly... drowning out most sounds... How long had she been falling? How much more left? 'But I... I wanted to see him... one last... time... I want to be with him! I don't want to die.. Sonic.. Sonic, please save me.' She suddenly heard something muffled through the wind and opened her eyes, tears spraying upwards in blobbed droplets before seeing Sonic coming speedily down above her. "Ah..!" it almost took her breath away. 'What if he dies too..? No!' "No,... Sonic! Sonic, save yourself!" she cried out, but he could barely hear her too. He sucked in his stomach, less resistance too as his cheeks flushed out and puffed, his hands and legs close together by his body. "I promised!" he cried out quickly, before reaching down to grab her around the waist, looping his arm and then holding her within his arms. "You alright?" he smiled, seeming calm before looking towards the ground. "Hmm.. hang on." he held out his chaos emerald. Amy's eyes went from fear to absolute delight at holding onto Sonic once more. She sobbed in joy now, gripping her arms around his neck and clinging to him from his front. "Oh, Sonic..!" "Chaos...!" right before the big splat-! "Control!"

Hold on to your hats! That's not the end of the feels!after the climax, you need the cool down, but your heart can keep racing as much as you want!

Amy felt the thud on her head... before realizing that Sonic's arms had wrapped protectively around it, and the thud she felt was simply the impact, not so much the full force. "Ow..." Sonic slowly got up, removing his hands around her, as she realized his head was right directly with hers. Breathless, she continued to marvel with shaken eyes at how he took the brute force of that impact, the rest of her was sore, but would be fine... "Sonic you.. you saved me. Just like you promised." He looked up from rubbing the back of his head, still holding himself a bit over her, and smiled. "Have I ever broken a promise to ya? Amy..." he looked sweetly to her, before looking under himself and realizing what this looked like. With a shy-guy's nerves 'of steel' he shook his head back and forth, analyzing the situation and zoomed off, offering her his hand. "That was a close call! What were you doing in the city, anyway?" She took his hand and got up, dusting herself a bit but feeling woozy. "I... heard about... you... woah!" she clutched her head but was about to go tumbling back down, before Sonic's killer reflexes caught her again, and held a hand over her stomach to keep her stable. He blinked with slight worry, but smiled to try and keep his composure from showing through. Looking over his shoulder slightly to her, he sweat-dropped and spoke again, "Maybe that wasn't such a bright idea, huh?" "Ah! Bright idea? Hmph!" Offended, Amy's head shot up and she puffed up her cheek, pushing his supporting arm away from her and trying not to stumble back at the force,... also trying to remember what 'balance' was again. "Sonic The Hedgehog, how dare you mock the bleeding heart of-!" she was about to fall backwards. "Amy, look out!"

... noticing the touching..?

Amy was caught once again, but the wind got knocked out of her and she gasped for air. "Amy..." Sonic helped her down and leaned her forward, slightly hesitating, but rubbing her back and squatting down as she fell to her knees. "Man.. if I'd had known you cared this much.. I would have just kept my mouth shut." His voice was tender, almost as if considering her feelings for a moment, as she coughed and sucked in, covering her mouth a moment in embarrassment at the spit she was forced to spray out from clogging her throat up. "You.. you don't have to shut your mouth..." she felt like crying again. She didn't want him to be still and silent around her... She was just taken aback by it all. "It's just been a while.. I don't remember the last time I'd been kidnapped before." "More like held hostage, but we'll go with that." Sonic joked, kidding as he lightly nudged her shoulder to get her to laugh too. She tried to restrain against it, but couldn't help seeing his snarky-looking face and giggle to his chuckle.

So, not only is obstacle three completed, but now we’re bonding and showing growth through communication. We’re seeing a different side of Sonic ‘outside’ the battlefield and a more ‘touchy’ side of Amy we already knew existed, but how Sonic throws her back into falling in love with him again. Remember, we’re trying to get the audience to love these two. It’s important to show pivotal moments of ‘friendship’ or ‘romance’ at times like these, or sprinkled through the story.

Sonic helped her up and she laughed as she leaned against him. "Alright, tinkle-toes. Let's try one foot in front of the other." He held her hands in his own. "Hey!" He looked up from her feet, at her exclamation and just snickered, "It's just a joke." he shook his nose in her direction and made her blush and giggle. A good way to throw her off from staying or being mad at him for too long. "Alright, and- hup, hup, hup-ho-wah!" he suddenly jumped back from her as she staggered and started doing a Russian-like dance with his feet, before doing a back-flip and kicking his legs out again from a squat. She laughed at his odd behavior but that was the point, he was relaxing her, and the laughing created a normal breathing pattern again in her systems.

A common misconception is that Sonic has no fun with Amy. This proves that wrong. And it's important for the bonding we were talking about earlier. Also, it makes us enjoy the moment with the characters more. Lovability increases ;) NEVER END A STORY WITHOUT KNOWING YOUR CHARACTERS ARE LOVABLE- ehem, moving on~

After getting back up and helping Amy once more with walking, he ended up losing patience and just scooping her up, in a silly fashion, away to her home. She insisted he spend more time with her, but he also encouraged her rest and that he had to hunt down Eggface before that lizard-robot gets repaired. "Do you have to go?" Amy's eyes lingered on her plea, her body leaned against her creaked open door as Sonic gave her a gentle reminder of his true duty. "Come on, Amy... don't give me that look. I'm a hero, remember? I'm just lucky you're safe." he winked, giving her a thumbs up and then shook his pointer finger out, leaning forward, "And didn't I hear you say something about dinner?" She suddenly grew excited again, and used the couch to stabilize her as she wobbled to the kitchen. "Be back in an hour!" she shouted out, as Sonic took the door handle, winked with a salute, and closed it. "See ya then,... Amy!" he darted out and took off towards wherever Eggman set up base. 'I better hurry and make this one quick.' he smirked, 'Otherwise,... Amy might just topple over while I'm gone!' it made him internally laugh... but even deeper down.. was there perhaps.. another reason?

I admit this is more ‘canon-writing’ but you should always leave off with a feeling or ‘questioning presence’ for your reader to think about. They remember ‘how they felt’ or the ‘emotion’ more than do the whole story, sometimes. ;) But most importantly-! Write for you! :D

When you get an idea-!

I hope you think of me~

lol if you ever need help, I’m always here for ya, cuties! XD

#sonamy #sonicxamy #sonic prompt #sonamy prompt #cutegirlmayra #ask cutegirlmayra #cutegirlmayra ask #writing tips #tips

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dianatownerart · 5 years ago

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Moodboards, Story Splines, and Constraints

9/11/19

CONSTRANTS

1) my project will be no longer than 3 minutes

2) I will design a cast of no less than 5 characters

STORY SPLINES

Note: I had several ideas, so I made several moodboards to reflect those ideas different ideas, rather than multiple moodboards for one idea.

Idea 1 (Moodboard 1, upper left)-

Once upon a time, there was a witch who lived in the forest with her grandmother.

And every day, she and her grandmother used their magic to care for the forest.

Until one day, her grandmother died.

And because of that, the witch desperately tried to find a way to resurrect her grandmother.

And because of that, the neglected forest began to die.

And because of that, the forest creatures and the girl both began to starve.

So that finally, the forest creatures came to the girl to guide her away from her fruitless search and to instead focus on maintaining the forest.

And the moral of the story is that you can’t retrieve what has been lost, but you can nurture the goodness that came from what you had.

Longer version:

Once upon a time, there was a young witch who lived in the forest with her grandmother. And every day, the witch watched her grandmother use magic to allow the forest to flourish; and every day, the witch’s grandmother moved a little more slowly and grew a little fainter, though the young girl did not see it.

One day, the girl’s grandmother did not wake up, though the girl tried and tried to wake her. Grief-struck, the girl searched for a spell that would bring her grandmother back. The neglected forest began to die, and with it, the creatures of the forest and the girl herself. The starving forest creatures came to the girl in search of the magic that kept them alive. The girl, furious that they intruded on her search for resurrection magic, cast every creature away from her and lay alone in her destruction.

The girl wept. Nothing could bring her grandmother back; every method she tried had failed, and now she had lost the forest, too. The creatures, seeing her grief, approached; and with them, they brought the last surviving seeds of the plants that the grandmother had planted in the forest. The girl gathered the plant seeds and slowly tried the spell her grandmother had once performed.

A small seed sprouted at the girl’s feet. A bud poked out of the earth around her. The creatures of the forest helped the girl rebuild. They put the grandmother to rest, and they rebuilt the cottage, and the flowers sprouted, and the buds blossomed.

And the moral of the story is that grief cannot be survived in isolation; and that you can’t retrieve what has been permanently lost, but you can nurture the goodness that came from what you had.

Idea 2 (Moodboards 2 and 3, upper right and lower left)-

I’m not 100% sure how to write this in the story spline format that was shown in class, so before I attempt that, here’s a quick overview of the idea: I show the morning routines of ~9 or so characters and how their lives intersect. For example, we start with Roger and watch him get on the train; he passes by Jorge, and the screen splits to show Roger change trains and go to his office while Jorge continues on and goes to get a bagel at a cafe that Roger’s wife Carla frequents, where Jorge transforms into a monster; the screen splits into thirds and we see that Carla is a part-time superhero and she saves a kid named Brick from the Jorge monster, and Roger sees the chaos from his office window; the screen splits into quarters and we see Brick go to school after getting saved from the Jorge monster; meanwhile, we watch the monster transform back into Jorge, who’s carried away by cops; and so on and so forth. I’m not sure if I’d go for more a realistic, slice-of-life thing or have monsters and super heroes and pizzazz like that, but either way, I think it’d be cool if it started off with one person’s mundane morning and gradually get more complex, colorful, and full of different characters interacting with each other.

version 1

Once upon a time, there was a bustling city that seemed like any other, save for the occasional supernatural event.

And every day, the city people rode the train and went to their jobs and school and lived their lives, while in the shadows strange things began to stir and people with hidden powers tried their best to contain them.

Until one day, one man in the city transformed into a monster and began to wreak havoc.

And because of that, a vigilante sprang into action to rescue a kid while everyone fled.

And because of that, the kid bragged about it to all their friends.

And because of that, the vigilante’s identity was discovered.

So that finally, she was uplifted as the city’s hero.

And the moral of the story is that life comes at ya fast. idk.

version 2

Once upon a time, there was a bustling city full of busy commuters.

And every day, the commuters rode the train and went to their jobs and school and lived their lives.

Until one day, two commuters mixed up their bags on the train.

And because of that, they got stuck with the other’s belongings.

And because of that, they went looking for each other.

And because of that, they asked everybody they met if they had seen the other, and those people asked everybody they met, and so on.

So that finally, the two were reunited.

And the moral of the story is that you never know how connected you might be to another person, no matter how small or simple that connection is.

Idea 4 (Moodboard 4, lower middle)-

Once upon a time, there was an old engineer who lived in a hideout in the desert wastes.

And every day, she scoured the land for robotic parts, food scraps, and other necessities to keep herself alive—and to keep other people out.

Until one day, an annoying orphan found her way to the engineer’s front doorstep.

And because of that, the engineer tried to kick the orphan out.

And because of that, the orphan doubled down on her efforts to stay and persuaded the engineer to let her stay the night.

And because of that, the orphan helped the engineer and overshared about her life and they discovered they had more in common than was previously thought.

So that finally, the engineer offered to let the orphan stay as long as she wanted—so long as she kept helping out around the hideout, of course.

And the moral of the story is a life of isolation is no life at all.

Bonus Idea (Moodboard 5, lower right)

This one’s non-narrative, so I didn’t write it in a story spline format.

I interview 5-6 people and ask them questions about a topic (to be decided). Perhaps about their day, their favorite things, what they hate, what they want most. From those conversations, I design characters based on each person’s voice and personality. I then animate those characters to audio from the interview. I composite the clips together in a way that highlights the core of each character.

#story spline #moodboard #constraints #preproduction #idea

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ptetest-blog · 6 years ago

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Creative Writing Series for Home Schoolers

New Post has been published on http://pte-english-test.com/creative-writing-series-for-home-schoolers/

Creative Writing Series for Home Schoolers

Hello, hello! It’s good to see you again!

In this installment of Creative Writing, we are going to dive into a little character creation. There are many methods that can be used, none more correct than another. Just as with all writing, character creation is an art and all art can be approached from different angles. The key with your characters is for them to be real! They need to be believable and credible within the situations you place them, so try to keep that in mind as we go along.

First, in any piece of writing, whether a short story, flash fiction, novella or stage/screen play, there is a Protagonist and an Antagonist. The Protagonist is the main Character; the one having all or most of the events from the plot happen to or around him or her. The Antagonist is the Character opposite of the main. He or she could be thought of as the villain, the ‘straight man’ for a comedian or, in situations where the Character is in conflict with himself, the Antagonist would be the inner voice, conscience or perhaps schizophrenic inner personalities.

With the Characters defined, realize they can be developed along two basic types: flat or rounded. The flat Character is one-dimensional, having very few or limited characteristics, habits, behaviors or personality, whereas the rounded Character is complex. Some readers believe that rounded Characters are created by “good” authors and flat by authors of less skill. However, most of those readers never consider the difference between novels and short stories.

Along with these two Character types, there are a vast amount of characteristics a Protagonist or Antagonist may possess. One thing to keep in mind is that the Protagonist, the main Character, should be developed to have his or her characteristics set apart from the others. He or she should be more complex than everyone else, even the Antagonist, so be sure to pay special attention as you create him, her or it.

So, where and how do we start developing this leading man or woman? Well, we make them real! Every live person you know or come across has a history. They have a great-uncle who fought in WWII, or a brother who’s studying to be a doctor, maybe even a daughter who is a runaway. Whether from a small town with a population of 1000, or a booming city such as New York, the history begins to bring that Character to life. As the writer, you should build your Character and know everything about her; any childhood memories of family vacations, the first kiss she ever received and by who, and every dark, hidden secret she holds deep within her. Everything!

Creating a list of information concerning the Character is the easiest way to do this. The list would include birth date, hometown, whether or not they own a pet, or if they are that runaway daughter mentioned above. These things are not set in stone at this stage, but act as a guide to assist you in further development.

Ok, so you have a few basic notes on your Protagonist, now what about a name? There may be some instances, depending on your storyline, where there would be no name-but typically all Characters have at least a first name. Now, let me ask you…is there a student from your 4th grade class who did something mean and nasty to you? Was his name Harold? If it was, and you still harbor any sort of un-easy or ill feelings toward him, I would guess that the name Harold would bring a bitter taste to your tongue. Often, due to our own life experiences, we tend to have opinions about some people we meet simply based upon their name. If the name Harold still strikes that chord with you, chances are, if you use that name at all, it will be associated with the ‘bad guy’ or Antagonist in your story. Names give the Characters they are associated with strength, courage, intelligence, shyness or even a quick-tempered nature. Be sure to give some good thought toward the names you choose for your Characters.

Well, we have a history and a name attached to it-now what? Aha! Now you breathe life into him! It is critical that you develop a believable Character. If, for example you’ve developed a spindly male Character who sucked his thumb until the age of eight, and was diagnosed at the age of 22 with a degenerative condition of steadily worsening eyesight, then at his present age of 31 depicting him as a driver in NASCAR® is quite implausible. If you are dead set on writing a story about NASCAR®, then know that. Never place the Characters you create in situations or lives that they simply would not reasonably be able to exist in.

You now have a history, a name and some characteristics. How do you come up with all these other traits, behaviors and realistic aspects to create a solid, believable person within that Character? The best way is to pattern her after a real model, or several models. I would caution you against using yourself as the model. I know you’re thinking, ‘but I know myself the best’, and that’s true. Actually, it’s too true! You know yourself so well, you may not admit or notice little nuances about yourself-which could end up leaving a hole in your Character.

The developed Character should view life, love, hatred, driving, Golf, or nail biting from a different perspective than you would. This allows you to be less guarding of a secret or fear you wouldn’t want to expose, plus it forces you to develop someone you can do anything to without stopping yourself because the situation is one that you wouldn’t tolerate or be able to handle. In simpler terms, your Character will have none of your pre-determined, personal limits.

When you are creating this person, ask yourself, ‘why would this person believe the Earth is round?’ Not why would you believe it; why would she believe it. As an example, let’s say that you completely dislike daytime soap operas. They have the same sort of plot lines year after year, and someone is always coming back to life and causing chaos. Your friend, however, loves the soaps. She likes that the plot lines stay similar, because she feels she doesn’t miss as much during the months that she may be unable to tune in every day. Likewise, the surprise and pizzazz of having a formerly ‘bumped off’ Character reappear is entertaining and humorous to her. She’s still your friend, right? She just sees the soaps differently than you do. So using that example, you need to look at daytime soaps through the eyes of your friend, not your own. That’s the perspective difference.

Last, but never least, when all this work is done and you’ve developed someone you may disagree with, but tolerate, you need to interrogate him. That’s right! Place him under a bright light with screaming music blasting in his ears and grill him with questions. You should know him so well that you can answer every question imaginable; from how he got the scar on his left thigh to what his feelings are about buttered popcorn.

The topic of building and developing Characters is huge. They can be created in several ways. Below is a task covering just one of those methods.

Task:

Part I

For this task, we’re going to get you out of the house for a little bit. Choose a public place; this can be the mall, a park, the library, anywhere there are other people readily available to observe. Wherever you choose to go, select at least one person from the public and make him or her your prospective Protagonist. Make notes concerning physical appearance, especially any unique or ‘identifying’ features-such as an eye patch or blue hair. Watch and note hand gestures, body movements and language, and if possible, their eye movements. Any mannerism notable should be identified. Lastly, pay attention to their speaking-tone, pitch, volume, word choices, accent, etc. When you feel you have enough traits to effectively create a believable, real Character for your short story, then pack up your tools and prepare for Part II.

Part II

Using your notes from Part I of this task, expand upon and liven-up your character(s). You have notes from your outing…use those to add detail and make your character act and feel real to the reader. Remember, detail doesn’t always mean describing physical appearance, it can be the way in which the person stands, how they chew their gum, etc.; the little nuances that make each of us unique and human, and those are what you are looking to add. Remember, the traits of the Character should fit with the actions or motivations of the scenario you place him or her in, which should fall in line with your story idea.

You can do this! Have fun with it!

Previous Lessons in the series are:

Introduction: Elements of Writing

Lesson Two: Theme

Lesson Three: Plotting the Situation

Lesson Four: Forests and Trees

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alphabetbill · 3 years ago

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FUGITIVE WITH YOU - Act 2

Fugitive With You - Mickey, Villains 2019

Act Two

Description-

Mickey, a quick-thinking but not very experienced thief is on the run, and on foot, after clumsily burglarizing a gas station and forgetting to fill up his car with fuel before making his escape.

A town over from the one he fled, after knocking on countless doors in the middle of the night and refused entry to every single one, he’s finally accepted into the home of Annie Ramirez, a lonesome, seemingly normal girl who claims she knows how to help him.

Who knew that such a kind gesture in a strange situation could bring the two together close enough for the girl to abandon her home and hit the road with him, showing him the ropes and the good life of crime and the way of the streets. All set with a totally fool proof plan for their future that was concocted in less than fifteen minutes, it’s take, take, take, sell, sell, sell and off to the sunny, sandy beaches of Florida to start a new, crime free life.

But on the way, they will face all kinds of problems and threats, from past rivals to new enemies, to close calls with the police.

But chaos is all in adventure, right?

Life wouldn’t be life without a little pizzazz!

Life certainly wouldn’t be life without a little bit of Annie and Mickey, facing the big wide world by each other’s side, one fuck up at a time.

(Read Part one here if you haven’t already)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At some point there’d been some kind of attraction that bordered on romantic.

At what point exactly, she had no idea.

The thing was, Annie didn’t remember feeling any romantic attraction to that guy at all, she couldn’t recall ever telling him she loved him, and couldn’t recall him telling her that, either.

Either way, it was clear that he didn’t and she had no issue with that.

Maybe it was the fact that he hung around so much that she actually missed him when he wasn’t around. Maybe it was the fact that he was more of a friend than he was a lover and that she missed the days they just hung out with no sex involved.

Maybe it was how he made her feel so sexy and confident in the bedroom that she hated it when he wasn’t there to make her feel like that again.

Jaxon hadn’t really been her boyfriend, and she had never really considered him to be. She guessed he thought of it differently.

He just decided to make her his shiny golden trophy to show off to his buddies and she honestly liked being flexed like that. She liked being the one thing that boosted his ego even if it meant she was treated like an object.

She was realizing it now. I mean, she had realized it before but it was even more certain now, that Jaxon was a clingy, whiney, sexist limp-dick pimp with no respect, not even self-directed.

Annie didn’t even understand what in tarnation possessed her to let him come home with her that night, or what’s more, to let him stay.

Maybe it was his quick charm, his godly body or his Colgate smile, or maybe it was just the fact that she’d been so desperate for a good fuck she’d went under the illusion that his sex was actually good.

Which it wasn’t.

Jaxon was a smartass narcissist who made it his mission to have and play every girl under the bloody sun, and she was embarrassed it took so long to see that. Embarrassed that this is what it took for her to see it

They weren’t together but they lived together, Jaxon thought he owned her, had her wrapped around his finger. He thought he was God’s gift to her, like she’d never get anything better than him. Well, if he was the golden standard, she didn’t ever want to have sex again.

“What the hell Annie?! No! I live here, you can’t kick me out!” he shouted, his incredible height staggering over the girl. But she wasn’t at all intimidated, infact she’d assume he was intimidated by her.

He stood with no clothes on. Hair messy, sweat gleaming off his tattooed body, a sulky look in his eyes and a chick still sitting on the couch, probably disappointed with the shit time Jax gave her.

That was just about the only sympathy Annie could give her.

“Can and will. This is my house, you just barged in and told me you were staying and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Take your tramp and get the hell out of my sight!” she growled at him.

Yeah, so they weren’t together, which is why Annie didn’t understand why the hell she was so angry. He fucked other girls, she fucked other men (and sometimes women) as well.

Maybe it was the fact that Jaxon was always so hypocritical about it all the time. He’d get mad at her, claim she was cheating on him, betraying him and the maybe, on-and-off relationship they had.

He’d turn around and fuck another chick in the ass in the same sentence.

“Annie quit being such a hypocrite and calm down” Jax said as he raced to pull his boxers on.

That just fueled the fire.

“Oh? Oh- did you just call me the hypocrite!?” she gaped at him, her jaw hitting the floor and an exasperated laugh spilling from her mouth.

“Bitch you’re the one who keeps telling me I can’t see other people! You literally cheat on me all the time and tell me I’m the cheater!”.

“Annie you’re overreacting can you please just shut up and calm down- ”

“I’m so sick of you” she rolled her eyes, continuing on into her rant.

“Telling me what to do, what to feel, what I should wear, where to go, who to fuck. I’m done with all that bullshit! And I’m so fucking done with all the games you play! Newsflash, It’s just a pain in the ass”.

Upon sensing that her presence wasn’t appreciated, the skinny, gorgeous brunette on the couch stood up and got dressed as well. When she was done, she took a pen and a note from the coffee table and scrawled something on it, handing the folded neon pink sticky note back to Annie.

She just winked, and then turned to Jaxon.

“I’m gonna go now. Y’know I feel bad for your girl, I’m sure I could give myself a better time than what you gave me, imagine how she feels”.

Annie watched her go, almost wanting to grin and follow her out.

But she stayed put, instead serving Jaxon with a glare as he tried to move closer to her. “Baby I’m sorry but she was here and you weren’t and-”

“So you fucked her? I know, Captain Obvious” she drawled. “I’ve told you, I don’t want to tell you again, get the fuck out of my house”.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re so uptight! I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying here and you’re going to tell me what the hell’s gotten into you!”.

“What’s gotten into me? No, Jax, what’s gotten into you, thinking you can tell me not to fuck any other man than you, then turn around and fuck another girl on my couch in the same sentence. You’re a real piece of shit”.

“And yes, you fucking are going somewhere. Out” Annie shoved him back, forcing him to stumble towards the front door where the brunette chick had just left through. “Don’t make me call the cops and make you leave”.

“You can’t do this Annie. You won’t! You know you want me to stay! You know all you want me to do is take you in the bedroom and fuck you shitless, so let me do that baby-”

“Trust me when I say I don’t ever want to even sniff your dick again” she gave him another shove towards the door.

“You aren’t my boyfriend, this isn’t your house. I do what I want when I want. You’re just upset because I finally have the balls to do it”.

“You won’t last! You’ll crawl back to me in a few days and take me back! You can’t live without me bitch!” he shouted, along with a few other childish obscenities which were blocked out by the sound of a door slamming in his face.

She immediately locked it as he began pounding on the other side of the door, making a total douche of himself.

“Watch me” Annie flipped him off even though he couldn’t see it, then turned to head back into the living room.

She debated sitting on the couch but decided she wanted no part in sitting on the object that had just been fucked on.

She would probably sell it later, get a couch she actually liked.

She reached up to pull out her hair which had been pinned up into a bun for work, letting it fall in dyed, slightly faded bright pink strands down to her waist. She couldn’t be bothered cutting it.

Kicking off her shoes and peeling her uniform off, she walked around the house in just underwear and bra like she’d always wanted the freedom to do, and remained in the half-nude in the time it took to grab the tub of cookies and cream ice-cream from the freezer and walk upstairs to the bedroom.

She took with her the little note she’d been given.

Chucking on an oversized shirt and denim shorts, Annie dived onto the bed, popped open the ice-cream tub and turned on the TV for some Netflix. Yep, because she was free to do so now. No man in the house dictating what she could and couldn’t watch based on the mood he was in.

No baby, now she had everything to herself. Freedom had never felt so fine. She would have shaken Jax off long ago, if she’d known it would be this much of a relief.

Pulling up the contacts list in her phone, she tapped onto a friend’s name and called her.

“Yo! Dude you haven’t talked to me in like two days. You really need to shake that pimp of yours off so we can let loose and have some fun!”.

Danni Carter was a girlfriend of Annie’s, like a sister from another mister as they always claim. Danni was cool and gorgeous and hot in every sense, in a that girl could be on a vogue magazine cover if she didn’t have all those tats and piercings and shit kind of gorgeous.

Annie and Danni had found each other after highschool and from there, their criminal records and reputations had only spiraled downwards. They went through thick and thin but always made it out okay.

But it wasn’t just her looks that were gorgeous. Danni had a brilliant adventure seeking soul that Annie believed was hand-made just to fit with hers. Annie was wild and careless and considered a freak of nature by most.

Hair that was dyed a different colour every month, sleeve tattoos covering both arms, bellybutton piercing, ears with too many rings, septum ring and tongue stud. She wasn’t the type of girl who liked shiny pretty dresses or outfits, wasn’t the type to post Instagram selfies with butterfly filters.

Maybe that had something to do with the fact that she couldn’t exactly afford that lifestyle.

She was the type of girl that liked things as easy as they could come, with a sex drive of yes and a minor addiction to coke and weed.

Sometimes Annie could be such a passive girl, with no other interest but to curl up and watch Netflix and sob over drama romance stories that were cornier every single time she watched them. She could be so sweet and pretty and innocent, but she could make the switch to devil’s definition in the blink of an eye.

“Well we’re in luck because I just booted him out and fucked if I’m letting him back in. I’m a free woman! Whaddya say we drink to that? I neeeeeeed to get pissed”.

“Say no more! Time for a PARTAYYYYY”.

By the time Annie had finished rambling to Danni over the phone about what the hell had even been happening since she last saw her face, she’d lost interest in the show she’d been watching and went to get up to go find another shirt to wear that wasn’t Stranger Things.

She also supposed she should go disinfect the couch and at least make sure nothing had been left behind. She needed somewhere to sit.

Annie stopped herself when she noticed the pink sticky note that sat untouched on the nightstand where she left it. She reached over for it, and carefully unfolded it to read what the brunette had scribbled down on it.

xx your boyfriend is hot but I think you’re hotter

hit me up on sc, xxsierramorganxx, maybe I can show you what sex is supposed to be like.

xx - sierra

If smug, ego-lifting grins could kill, Annie would be dead and this sticky note would burst into flames.

Annie decided she really liked alcohol.

That shit was magical, the stuff of dreams. Could serve as a remedy to anything, because you’d forget what was wrong with you in a few hours. She’d place it only a tier below cocaine on her list of favourite things, really great.

Fucking incredible. Makes for great nights and not remembering a thing.

It’s not so great when you have to crawl back into the house, scrounge around for the spare key like a raccoon in a garbage can and try to figure out where the hell the door even is to unlock it.

Danni had dropped her off, but venturing to the house in the pouring rain had left her soaked and cold, chilled to the bone.

Somehow she managed it, and into the house she stumbled, a little bit past the verge of just tipsy. Annie flopped down onto the couch she’d cleaned and vacuumed earlier, which turned out to be a bit of a terrible idea because she could feel the springs beneath her back.

She sat there watching the TV for awhile, although she wasn’t coherent enough to understand what was actually going on.

Not even ten minutes later, after deciding it wasn’t worth trying to decipher what was happening on the screen and turning it off, Annie perked her head up when she heard a noise.

It came from the front of the house, the front door, she thought.

Is someone knocking?

Yes, someone was. It came again, the sound of knuckles wrapping on the door at least three times before pausing to wait.

Who the hell would be knocking on my door at this hour? Rude much.

Annie got up off the couch after much struggle, and managed to stay on her feet as she crossed the living room and turned the corner to the front door. Through the stained glass window at the top of the door she could make out the silhouette of a person.

So he’s gotta be tall.

She hesitated when she went to grab the door handle. Wait. It’s Jaxon, isn’t it?

“Jaxon, fucking hell! If you think you can show up at my house in the middle of the night thinking I’ll take you back then you’ve got another thing coming!” Annie yelled as she yanked open the door to meet the eyes of the person standing on her porch.

And then her eyes widened a little, when she saw that infact this was not Jaxon. A bit taller, brown hair that stuck to his face from the rain he’d obviously been out in, and eyes she thought were green, but couldn’t quite tell because the lighting wasn’t helping.

He looked cold- incredibly cold, shivering and trembling with goosebumps on his arms. He wore a short-sleeved white and yellow striped shirt that clung to his lean frame. A desperate look on his face.

“Oh my god- what the hell? You’re soaking wet- you’re gonna get sick! What are you crazy?!” she met his eyes with a frantic look. He words were a little bit jittery and jumbly from intoxication.

“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?!”.

“Uh.........” the stranger sniffled, clearly coming down with something.

“M-my car broke down just out of town. I can’t afford to stay in a motel and I need some place t-to stay. So far you’re the only person who hasn’t told me to fuck off so............”.

Poor guy, she couldn’t help but think to herself.

She thought about what she should do.

If Jaxon were here, he’d have turned the bastard away just like everyone else, or maybe even slept through the knocking. But guess what?

Jaxon wasn’t here.

Jaxon wasn’t here but this guy was. Standing there in the cold and rain, a shivering mess of a man who needed help. Annie might have been a bitch at times, but she wasn’t heartless.

“Quick! Get inside then! Out of the cold” she grabbed his hand without thinking and lead him inside, quickly shutting the door behind her and blocking out the cold.

The whole time, she wondered just what the hell she was thinking, letting a strange man in her house in the middle of the night.

Then again, Annie was drunk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you enjoyed part two, consider leaving a like, comment, or re-blogging, and stick around for the next one.

- Fugitive with you - description + disclaimers

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