#but he is a researcher and a scribe in one of her classes
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Chat how do I make this university solavellan fic not be professor/student coded bc I VERY MUCH SO want to avoid that
#solas isnât her professor#but he is a researcher and a scribe in one of her classes#I like the idea of him maybe subbing or being a guest lecturer but is that weird?#itâs not weird if he doesnât assign grades right? like where is the line here? what should I avoid other than the obvious?#like I like the idea but I can see how it could be icky? should I scrap that? whatâs the vibe out there in the tumblr void for this?#I also want her to somehow end up working with him in his research#I was thinking of having her threaten a student and having to help him as punishment#this is not preferred by either Lavellan or Solas#he doesnât want her help and she doesnât want to help him either#but the chancellor (Dean) said it so theyâve gotta deal with it#and he again doesnât pay her or give her grades for this assistance either#should I run with that idea or go a different route?
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PLEASE don't shut up about your OCs I followed u in the first place because I'm so đđđđ I wanna hear more about Fableeeee
THANK U ANON đđđđđđ i used to be so chatty about them, I really wanna get there again. So now I'll start bc I will always talk about my boy!! sorry i this is a lil long teehee whoops
Fable is my very first dnd character (from 2017??) who has been through so many designs and reiterations before he got settled as an npc in my wife's Waterdeep game. I don't get to know any main plot stuff with him in our game until its time to watch it unfold as we play, but I still play around with him behind the scenes for non-plot-related-stuff bc he's my beautiful angel.
Personality-wise, he's got cat energy. A little standoffish and isn't one to go talking to strangers unless he feels its necessary or you like, genuinely need help or something. Has resting bitch face - he's a little intimidating to approach because he always looks so annoyed. Will insult you if he truly dislikes you; his use of vicious mockery can be devastating to one's ego. BUT he's very affectionate and protective with his loved ones. It should be considered an honor and maybe a personal victory tbh to be called his friend.
His class is College of Creation bard. He was an adventurer but after some incidents, he's now an art conservator/illuminator at the Font of Knowledge and Scribe's Guild in Waterdeep. He's the guy people will go to in order to repair priceless artworks or even old tomes for Blackstaff Academy. Knowing Mending makes it easy but sometimes things can't always be repaired with spells, so he'll spend hours and sometimes weeks researching and working on certain projects. He enjoys this change of career. Less likely to get maimed or exploded (but it can happen with certain artifacts)
He's a tiefling (1/4th drow on his bio dad's side lol). He's got an older half brother named Drac, who is close enough in age to him that they're like twins, and a baby sister named Elsbeth (who is 15 yrs younger than him). His mom was a Harper who actually died to a suspicious cult in Baldur's Gate :( One dad is a wizard/griffon knight and the other one (the previously mentioned bio dad) is a sorcerer that works for Waterdeep's newspaper. His grandparents run a forge in the Trades Ward.
Used to be in an adventuring party known as the Fells. They worked for the Blackstaff primarily in Waterdeep. It was fun and cool and exciting and they are apparently heroes in the Southern Ward. Fable prefers to remain low-key and/or just not be acknowledged at all when it comes to that.
Boyfriend, River Belrose, is a detective who works with his other best friend and former adventurer, Oliver Lanngolyn. River and him got involved in some classic caste drama since River is a noble from one of the noble families of Waterdeep who was due to be married off to Lydia Neverember, the Open Lord's daughter. That fell through when River sort of renounced his noble title (as did Lydia) to live a commoner life with Fable.
His eyes always given the impression of burning flames. He's a little self-conscious about them as growing up a tiefling isn't the easiest.
Sometimes he paints his horns with pretty patterns (he also does this for his siblings).
Big fan of food (any) and stealing food (any) from friends and family.
Despite the standoffish personality, Fable is a bit of a boy scout. If there's a granny crossing the road, he's gonna be helping her. If there's a cat in the tree, you know he'll be climbing to get Fluffy to safety.
Was taught his skills as a bard at New Olamn. Can play the lute and is a pretty decent singer. He'd rather gnaw off his arm than perform in front of people ever again.
Worships Oghma and Ilmater. Tosses a few prayers and offerings to Umberlee mostly so a typhoon doesn't hit the city one day.
I don't like any of my old art of him so here's some my wife has drawn:
#fable from waterdeep#thank u again anon. this is...so much. but i love him and am gonna be talking about him and veil more often#and maybe my future bg3 character since i'm deep in the faerun sauce#and my vtm character bc that's a game i'll be playing soon đ#long post
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This is me politely asking for just. Stuff abt the tuc/nsbu au. Any concepts that come up from the crossover, a tidbit anything Im in love with the concept sm
iâve taken a lot of inspiration from that initial ask and subsequent thread tbh !! i hope thatâs cool with everyone involved
rn iâm working on a 5+1 that spans from like. end of august to mid december (ish) post canon and itâs pretty much wendell being like âholy shit all my friends have magic??â and then âholy shit i have magic???â i do actually have ideas for (almost) every scenario too which is wild for me!!
it doesnât really expand into the tuc verse yet but i Will get there. eventually. once i figure out how to write the dream team
iâve done a little research on dnd classes (bc i donât know enough abt subclasses n stuff tbh) for it which is pretty fun. i say this despite not having done research for Most of the subclasses (order of scribes usha is p much the only one i have off the top of my head and that wasnât even my idea).
tidbit under the cut hehe
âWendell,â she says, not quite disappointed but definitely verging on it, and he winces as he peeks up at her, âhave you been sleeping?â
He blinks, dumbfounded, because for some reason he hadnât expected that. She just stares back, the frown still on her face but softer, almost teasing, and he looks away before he can think too much about it. No need to be getting all emotional right this second.
âUh, yeah,â he says. âJust⊠college work, yâknow. Calculus sucks.â
She frowns again, but itâs more thoughtful this time, less at him and more at the situation. âBring it here,â she says decisively. âI helped send them to the moon, you know. Thisâll be easy.â
#idk why i chose this part to post. i cannot write usha to save my life#i mean i can and i have but like. is it good? debatable#thanks for the ask !!
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Hi people!
I'm opening the year with improving the design of Risu (my s/i) because why the heck not, right? :3
I still can't write so I'm compensating by drawing stuff *sobs*
Selfship lore dump utc, feel free to skip~
Kurisu was born in Sumeru, but her great-grandparents from both parents came from Liyue as merchants. She wields a bow (snipe snipe!), thus the glove. She uses a combat knife for close-range confrontations. Her Hydro Vision is attached to her belt. She's a bit overweight considering her height, but hey, her big bones need some meat on them /smacked
She has BP-2 mood disorder, which adds to her innate insecurity. But it has made her a more empathetic person.
She has two timelines so far, depending on which Darshan she enrolled in the Akademiya for college:
Timeline A: Haravatat Darshan
Specialty: Ancient linguistics
She met Alhaitham in one of her classes and fell in love with him. But she eventually dated another classmate since Haitham didn't show any signs of reciprocating her feelings. They only became an item after she met him again in a book club after her ex broke up with her due to her mood disorder diagnosis. They tied the knot two years later.
Relevant fics: the scribe's travelogue, written by his wife series. Tag: #haikuri
Timeline W: Kshahrewar Darshan
Specialty: Medicine (incomplete) and mechanical engineering
She initially enrolled in Amurta, but decided to move to Kshahrewar and start her studies over due to her then-undiagnosed mood disorder. She dated an upperclassman for 4 years before he broke up with her due to her diagnosis.
Determined to leave the past behind, she crossed the seas to study more in the Fontaine Research Institute of Kinetic Engineering. After finishing her studies, she apprenticed under Estelle the blacksmith, where she took up a fateful commission from none other than the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, Wriothesley. While working as his personal mechanic, they fell in love and married after a year of dating.
Relevant fics: None yet. Tag: #wrisu
I plan to start writing fics for the #wrisu lore this year! Wish me luck :3
© @risustravelogue 2024 ⹠no to reposting, yes to reblogging. feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. :)
#kurisu draws: self-portrait!#haikuri#wrisu#dear lord I feel bad leaving the milestone event's writing prompts unfinished but what can I do đ
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[cytham/haino] Do you want a date?
Itâs becoming an occurrence to see the newly reinstated Scribe and General Mahamatra together.
In which Alhaitham and Cyno have dates much to everyone's befuddlement.
My @cyhaino-exchange fic for @stonesbeyondthesea !
Prompt: Cyno and Al-haitham going on dates that make absolutely no sense to the general public
AO3 link.
At first, Layla doesnât notice anything unusual. Sheâs used to being one of the last people in House of Daena, pouring over astrology books and research papers, and falling asleep over one of the hard desks. She had woken up on countless occasions with a sore back and neck (maybe she can petition for more comfier desks?), the first few rays of sun filtering the windows with no soul in sight other than her and her miraculously done coursework. Said done coursework always leaves her a little bewildered and confused so it takes her a while to notice the other occupants of the library.
Sheâs reviewing one of âher worksâ blearily when she catches a glimpse of black and gold and purple coming in her direction. It takes her a while to recognize the renowned General Mahamatra with his complete uniform and serious face. She freezes and multitude of thoughts pass through her and what might the Matra would want for her. Someone has probably told on her to the Matra finally. Thereâs no few rumors about people assuming she cheats in her coursework. It doesnât help she canât explain the countless trance she got into âfinishingâ them and how sheâs somehow on top of her studies despite being overworked and sheâs so deadâ
Except the General Mahamatra breezes past her table and goes further in the library, stopping at one of the desks in the right side corner.
It takes awhile for her to calm her fast beating heart. She sighs and slumps on the desk. It's out of accident that she turns and peeks at where she last saw the General. Instead of the lithe figure and jackal headdress of the General, what she sees is the broad shoulders and back of the newly reinstated Scribe seated a few desks away from her. She blinks and if not for Cynoâs jackal headdressâ ears poking between the Scribeâs shoulders, she would have thought she imagined seeing the General Mahamatra.
Sheâs acquainted with both, admittedly more so with Alhaitham for both review and approval of her papers and a surprising patient ear to listen to her wiles while she and Cyno have only been acquainted during the Interdashan competition and no other interactions so far after. She, in theory, could go and say hi to them but she also, in theory, could not and pretend to not exist.
She chooses to do the latter.
Though she couldnât help but surreptitiously take glances at the two Akademiya giants, with limited visibility thanks to Alhaithamâs cape and broad back. Itâs rare to see the two together outside of official and professional meetings with Alhaitham not long ago bearing the title of Acting Grand Sage. She heard conflicting things about their relationship during Alhaithamâs tenure in the corners of House of Daena, when people were none the wiser of her presence. Sheâs heard they often butt heads in the meetings but also are stark defenders and allies of each other and a pain in the other sagesâ asses. She wonders how true the rumors are as she watches the relaxed slope of Alhaithamâs back as he, she assumes, reads. She tries to strain her ears to see if theyâre talking but only tranquil silence permeates in the House of Daena, not a whisper or a murmur could be heard.
Sheâs about to revisit the thought of saying hi to them when her eyes catch the time on the clock and belatedly realizes sheâs about to be late to her first class. With a welp, she stands up and haphazardly collects her stuff into her bag. She runs off once done, barely paying mind to the other occupants. On the back of her mind though, she takes note of the incident like any researcher.
________
It takes two weeks for Layla to gather her data. These are what she found out:
The Scribe and General Mahamatra always meet in the House of Daena at 7am on the dot, two hours before Alhaithamâs shift. (She tries to look up Cynoâs as well but apparently the General keeps open hours.)
Alhaitham is always the first one to arrive and he always picks the desk near the elevator on the right side of the House of Daena.
Sometimes the General Mahamatra is late and thereâs impatience in the tap of Alhaithamâs heel and tenseness in his back. He only relaxes whenever Cyno arrives.
They each have a book to read. In Cynoâs case sometimes, a report to write when he just comes from a mission.
Thereâs minimal conversation between them if any at all. There are times when they don't say anything at all to each other before they stand up and go about their own duties.
The last part is what perplexes her the most. Why meet up if theyâre not going to talk? Theyâre two of Akademiya giants and the geniuses of their own Darshans, not to mention, they were key conspirators in freeing their Archon⊠Surely, theyâll have a vast amount of knowledge and topics to talk about?
And yet they continue with no avail, everyday at 7am, with barely any words exchanged between them other than a nod and relaxed postures.
Curiosity finally got the better of her and she finally asks Alhaitham during one of their review sessions.
âI-uhm- why do you meet up with the General Mahamatra at 7am in the House of Daena?â She starts, innocently enough, before nerves come over her and she ends up confessing her data gathering as well.
Alhaitham, to his credit, only gives her a calm raised eyebrow after sheâs done with her possibly incoherent ramblings in between apologies in being nosy and then, embarrassingly, showing him her data.
She canât help but sweat as he reads. She doesnât know why she feels like sheâs being graded.
âHmâŠyou could do better with the data gathering, Iâve seen much better work from you.â Alhaitham, after what feels like eternity, says.
âSorry! I was trying to be inconspicuous-I mean-sorry!â She squeaks, her face hot in shame. Why did she even dare broach this topic again???
Wonder of wonders, Alhaitam actually let out a chuckle. She freezes, caught off guard.
âCare for a date?â He asks, and she swears she saw his mouth tilt up.
âI-Uh-Excuse me?â She yelps. What is going on?!
âA date.â And then Alhaitham procures the fruit for archons knows where and presses it into her hand. âIâll see you again for the next review session. I have to get going.â
Heâs about to leave when Layla remembers the start of these strange happenings.
âWait! My questionââ
âI do believe I already gave you the answer,â he says with a conspiratory smile, leaving her even more dumbfounded.
________
Admittedly, touring desert ruins is far from what Dehya considers as a fun time. But she also didnât grow up in Akademiya so maybe thatâs why old and decrepit ruins have no appeal to her.
What she did know and notice is the increasing visits of two certain Akademiya giants to the desert and its ruins.
It takes awhile for her to corner the two. Cyno is too professional to use the same route over and over again, much to her chagrin. But nothing gets past the Flame-Mane of the desert.
âFinally, got yaâ!â She greets the two approaching men wearing cloaks. âYâknow if youâre trying to be stealthy, you really need to get rid of the jackal ears, Cyno.â
They both stop and remove their hoods; Alhaitham with a shake of his head and Cyno with a frown.
âThereâs nothing wrong with the ears,â Cyno says immediately, and if Dehya isnât imagining it, almost petulantly, âand weâre not trying to hide anyway.â
Dehya raises an eyebrow. âOh? Not in some confidential Akademiya mission? You guys have been frequenting the deserts so I was worried thereâs a wannabe god to overthrow again or something.â
âNothing of that sort,â Alhaitham answers, placidly. âWeâre just here to explore one of the ruins.â
âSo Iâve heard,â Dehya acquiesces, not letting up to where sheâs blocking them.
To be truthful, she trusts both of them. You donât save a nation without an ounce of trust among your comrades to make it successful after all. But she canât help but still be cautious. The desert is her home after all and she wants to protect it.
Cyno is the one to speak up, reading her intention. âWeâre gonna explore one of Deshretâs tombs. One of my marks hid away there before I caught him last week. The fight that ensued unveiled some hidden hieroglyphs and Iâd like for Alhaitham to take a look at it. If we ever find anything important, we will let you and Aaru village know.â
Dehya frowns. âAnd the expeditions before that?â
The two share a look. Cyno is the one again to speak up.
âSame thing; I found something interesting during my hunt in the desert and I asked Alhaitham to look and study it with me. So far, most are already found and studied in Akademiya.â Cyno shrugs, looking unbothered. âWe can give you the full report of where weâve been and what we found if that will ease you.â
âNah, I trust you, guys. No need to give me a report I wouldnât read anyway,â She grins, finally moving from where sheâs blocking them. She pats them at the shoulders. âTâwas just checking on you guys and what youâre up to.â
âOh, then weâre just going on a date,â Cyno says, nonchalantly, with a straight face. Alhaitham stands besides him equally straight faced.
Dehya blinks and lets out a âhuhâ. Sheâs too caught up with the revelation that she barely registers the goodbyes the two give as they pass through her and continue on their way. It takes her a minute or two to gather her bearings and go her merry way again with a thoughtful hum.
Dehya doesnât really get it but maybe it's one of those Akademiya quirks she canât wrap her head around. Maybe desert expedition dates are really popular among Akademiya? She doesnât know and she honestly doesnât care. To each to their own as they say. Speaking of dates, maybe she can find Candace and pester her to go on one again. Definitely not on desert expeditions like some Akademiya weirdos she knows.
________
If it took awhile to get used to seeing the General Mahamatra in TCG tournaments, it definitely takes even longer getting used to the Scribe or formerly known as The Acting Grand Sage of Sumeru to attend this kind of events.
He always comes in with the General Mahamatra and sticks to him, as he listens to whatever the General talks or points out but he never plays. Otherwise, he stays at the side, reading a book whenever the General is either engaged with other players or looking through stands. Curiously enough, he always puts down the book when it's the General's turn to battle.
When one brave soul finally asks why heâs there, he only gets given a fruitâa date to be exactâmuch to everyoneâs confusion, before the Scribe walks away to meet up with the General Mahamatra again.
________
Tighnari rarely comes to Sumeru City these days. When he does, it is usually because he needs supplies that can only be found or bought in the city or when he finally concedes and does a lecture or two in Akademiya. Itâs the latter on why heâs here in the city today.
Itâs early in the morning and he still has some two hours to spare before his lecture so he decides to check in on the Razan Garden. Heâs taking notes on how to better improve the health of flora in the garden when his ears twitch and hears a skittering of shoes. More concerningly, it comes from above and if he knows the layout of the garden as well as he did when he was a student, there shouldnât be anything above other than branches of the Divine Tree.
He looks up and sees Alhaitham climbing a branch. He blinks and the same cape and broad back greets him. Oh and he also notices his best friend, the General Mahamatra, is also on another branch.
âWHAT IN ARCHONS ARE YOU TWO DOING?â He shouts, which is the wrong thing to do as Alhaitham slips up in surprise.
Alhaitham manages to cushion his fall with some dendro but based on his wince as he landed on his feet, he might have twisted something. Tighnari hurriedly runs to him, barely noticing Cyno doing the same.
âAre you okay?â Tighnari asks, checking the Scribe and his foot. âThank archons, itâs only sprained but we should still get some ice on it immediately.â
He was about to assist Alhaitham in going to Bimarstan section of Akademiya when Cyno swoops in and carries the Scribe effortlessly, bridal style. Both Tighnari and Alhaitham blink up to Cyno but Cyno only raises an eyebrow.
âThis is much easier and faster.â He says in lieu of an answer.
It doesnât really answer any of the million questions that Tighnari has but the reddening of Alhaithamâs ears is enough to answer some at least. He mutely herds them to Bimarstan, trying not to listen in on their banter as they walk.
âCan you at least carry me on your back? This is embarrassing.â
âYou were definitely not complaining last night, though?â
âThat was at my home and this is my workplaceââ
Tighnari decides to tune them out along the way.
________
Once the ice has been put on the Scribeâs sprained foot and Tighnari finally has recovered his wits about him, he lays it on them.
âSo care to explain why two of the Akademiya giants are climbing the Divine tree?â He starts, mustering his best Iâm not angry, just disappointed voice thatâs very effective with his forest rangers and well intentioned tourists.
Cyno shrinks back, completely guilty, while Alhaitham just shrugs. Alhaitham gets a bag of something in his pocket and grabs one of whatever it is and gives it to Tighnari. Tighnari frowns at the fruit on his palm.
âA date? What does this have to do with you climbing the tree?â
Cyno perks up. âItâs because we were on a date. â
Tighnari stares at them. Cyno, unperturbed, continues. âGet it? The date fruit can beââ
âAnd why are you going on dates on top of the Divine Tree?â Tighnari cuts him off before he loses even more of his sanity.
Alhaitham frowns at him seemingly displeased at him cutting Cyno off but Cyno only shrugs. âIt has the prettiest view of all of Sumeru.â
Tighnari blinks and then heaves a big sigh. âAnd you canât have your dates anywhere other than the Divine Tree?â
âWe do have other places we go on dates like the library,â Alhaitham confirms.
âGood!â Though honestly itâs one of the last place Tighnari would bring a date to, to each to their own he guess. âThen you can stick to House of Daena so no more climbing the Divine Tree.â
Cyno frowns at him but doesn't fight it; meanwhile Alhaitham barely hides his relief. Poor guy.
âNow thatâs in order, I have to go and do a lecture.â He points at Cyno. âLet's meet at Lambad Tavern after. You owe me a lot of answers.â
Cyno snorts but nods anyway. With that in the way, Tighnari heads to his lecture, a list of questions ready for the afternoon. Maybe he should also make a list of popular date sites to help his best friend along the way.
________
âIs he gone?â
âHe is.â
âI guess weâre not telling him about our tree in Apam Woods?â
âOf course not.â
#cyhaino#haino#cytham#cyhainoexchange2023#my fic#this was so fun to write haha#alhaitham and cyno are menaces
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A Champion's Welcome to the Magaambya
Noxolo and Okore were the last ones clapping as the clamour and revelry died down and the other students began to disperse. Â Just as quickly as they had come to the Starday Tournament, the residents of the Magaambya returned to their busy lives. Â Several students adorned with the beads of the Tempest Sun Mages slapped backs and gave looks of appreciation for the initiates who bested the resident Leshy's constructs. Â Teacher Ott beamed at Mez, and handed her two glowing red beads emblazoned with a symbol of a roiling sun. Â Some of the onlookers whispered among themselves, nodding in agreement. Â "I grant you rank 2 of tempest sun mage" he says. Â "You put your life on the line in the service of the students of the University, you saved your fellow Chizire, and you did so without question to the injustice and unfairness to yourself that comes from such sacrifice. Â Your skilled combat as a team earned you the trophy before you, but your valor earned you respect." Â As Mez accepted them and placed them on her necklace, she felt power and dignity and honor as if she was glowing in a spotlight before a crowd of adoring faces. Â Mez you get to learn "Magaambya lore" and a custom lore skill of your choice that is related to the past session or your goals with the Tempest Sun Mages. Â You also will be granted full access to the Tempest Sun Mage library in the Tireless Hall (+1 to knowledge checks relating to the tempest sun mages, your new chosen lore, and the Magaambya), and 50% off bottomless coffee and espresso at the Tireless Cafe (usually 2gps) (+1 circumstance bonus to checks when you cram). Â Please note that you cannot exceed your level with your studies. Â So for Mez, she has reached her maximum capacity for now for the Tempest Sun Mages. Â However, she has a secondary school, for which you can never exceed 1/2 your level. Â So since she now is level 2 tempest sun mage, Mez should pursue her secondary school at this point and go for a level in that. Â Note that with each successful level, you get a bead added to your necklace. Â That is in addition to your bead for your profession, which also can increase over time (the only one with one of those so far is MC, and you get an initial bead by using downtime to earn income and critically succeeding, which can only be done once per semester, and reflects the quality of your work over the course of the semester). Â Mechanically, once each semester you get to study for one of your chosen schools. Â Critical success means you advance two levels, success 1 level, failure you don't advance, and critical failure means you did really bad in class, don't advance, and cannot study again for that school during the next cycle because you have to take remedial studies. Â If you have fallen behind in your studies, you can Cram. Â Cramming allows you to study twice during a semester, but if you choose to cram, then you have to beat a DC 8 flat check at the start of each day of adventuring or you are fatigued from being up all night studying. Â Finally, there is practical research. Â During some of the encounters throughout the adventure there are opportunities to succeed in real time ways that allow you to advance your schools. Â Mez just encountered this. Â These are going to be difficult, high risk situations. Â But if they go your way they are valuable. Â I would note that you can pitch to certain teachers projects for which you want practical research credit, so this is a more flexible option to advance in your school than the straight class options. Â If you are falling behind in your leveling, you will want to try to find opportunities down this path. Â About those school choices:Â
Mez: Â Primary School: Â Tempest Sun Mage (level 2). Â Secondary School: Â Emerald Bough
MC: Â Primary School: Â Tempest Sun Mage. Â Secondary School: Â Emerald Bough
Gai Lan: Â Primary School: Â Rain Scribes. Â Secondary School: Â Uzunjati
Jolene: Â Primary School: Â Emerald Bough. Â Secondary School: Â Rain Scribes
Nick: Primary School: Rain Scribes. Secondary School: Emerald Bough
Wonko: Primary School: Emerald Bough. Secondary School: Rain scribes
Cal: Primary School: Cascade Bearers . Secondary School: Emerald Bough. Â
Now back to the story...
Okore seemed to be taking notes during the fight with the Leshys and walked up with his notebook. Â "I was excited to see our new cohort step up today. Â You did well! Â I had heard you had trouble in the forest with the mushroom man, so I was a little worried about you. Â But I think perhaps you work better as a team, and that some of you were missing from that excursion yes? Â We noticed a nice balance of might and magic in your approach to the leshies, and that you didn't separate yourselves out and worked as a unit. Â Poor Chizire, he always tries to do things his own way, doesn't play well with others. Â It's no wonder he got cornered and flattened." Â Noxolo stepped up, "Okore, be more courteous when speaking of the almost-dead. Â MC, you were very...brave I suppose? Â You really had us all worried when the large leshy construct brought its hammer down on you. Â We were certain you were out, care to comment on how you were able to recover like you did? Â Some in the audience thought you were just just lucky, but I have a feeling those tasty creations of yours had something to do with it. Â Do your croquettes have healing powers? Â Spill the beans!" Â As Noxolo waited for a comment from MC, MC realized something. Â The Uzunjati were the press! Â Certainly there would be a story told about today, and they were the tellers. Â Okore stepped up, "Speaking of food, Gai Lan! Â Tree vs. Tree. Â I loved the guardian tree, and how you used the bushes for cover as you slung rocks and wind and stuff at the Leshies. Â Hiding and slinging debuffs reminds me of "jungle ghost" Guerilla style combat, but aren't you from the screaming jungle? Â By the way, great tatoo! Â I heard you were in business? Â As a member of the Uzunjati, we can advertise your services and get you some extra clientele. Â Mez! Â Or should I say, "don't Mez with me," amirite? Â Did you hear the groan from the audience when your fist cracked through the plate of the final leshy construct? Â We were all stunned. Â Teacher Ott also totally showed his true side (he's pretty hardcore), and you totally saved Chizire's life. Â Do I sense a big damn hero in the making? Â Care to comment? Â And last but certainly not not the most terrifying person I've ever met, Jolene! Â I am literally terrified to be talking to you right now." Â Clearly Okore had never seen a firearm before, and was completely befuddled and staring at it, as was more than half of the audience with each ear splitting crack of the barrel. Â Noxolo steps up, "Go play over there Okore, let the big girls talk. Â Jolene, I am sure most of the people here have never seen anything like what you showed us today. Â Range, power, precision, style, and insults! Â I'm sure you earned some fans today, and scared every bird from here to the river. Â Anything you want to tell the masses? Â Wait, why are you walking away?"
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I (Asa) was taking a stroll in my in-game graveyard one day. I looked at one of the graves: it was my first jester, Clerinell. I got that jester in the start of my game, and he didn't last a mission, or he lasted one and died in the next. That was way before I got accustomed to the characters and started making OCs. Looking at that grave now, if I wrote a story about Clerinell, this jester would be a woman, because the name would be more fitting for a woman than a man, with its jolly, playful sound.
That got me thinking: what if more people had genderbent OCs? The classes would stay the same, but different people with the same skillset and different stories could exist. Allow me to elaborate with some examples: - A highwaywoman with a tattered dress and a matted braid comes to the hamlet after the last carriage heist goes awry. It's nasty work, but it's the only way she can keep her children warm and well-fed - A dashing gentleman takes up a shovel and pickaxe and starts robbing graves. A lovely lady and a table of dice robbed him of his fortune and he needs to repay his debts - A woman returns home one day to find her husband dead. She swears revenge and takes up the bounty hunter's work to terminate the wrongdoers who deprived her of her love, and make some money while she's at it. She impersonates a man, because it's the only way other bounty hunters take her seriously - (Bedelya's idea) The male version of the vestal could be a scribe and eunuch with a bad case of dysphoria because of his genital mutilation. He's in search of eldritch rituals that can enhance the powers of the Light, but the thought alone branded him as a heretic and had him excommunicated. He believes the Hamlet is the best place to continue his research - A woman with a skull in her hands appears at the stage coach one day. Her whole body is veiled in dark fabric, and the only visible part of her body, if there is any at all, is her onyx eyes. Her rituals and spells have formidable results, and nobody knows if there's a human body beneath the veils or if it's all just darkness and tentacles - (Bedelya's idea) A male hellion who was sent to die on the first line of battle as a sacrifice to the gods and ran away. Many are the times when he talks of being the chosen one of the gods, but just as many are the times when he says how afraid he is to die
Those are our thoughts! We look forward to seeing yours, and any OC art would be welcome too, genderbent or not!
#darkest dungeon#darkest dungeon headcanons#genderbent heroes#because why not#darkest dungeon jester#dd jester#darkest dungeon highwayman#dd highwayman#darkest dungeon grave robber#dd grave robber#darkest dungeon bounty hunter#dd bounty hunter#darkest dungeon vestal#dd vestal#darkest dungeon occultist#dd occultist#darkest dungeon hellion#dd hellion#asa rambles#bedelya rambles
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Nelen Fullmoon, Magus of Gilneas
(Artist's Rendition of Nelen by xHyperwolfx )
Important Stories:
Broken Wands: Nelen is present when the Scourge lays siege to Dalaran during the Third War, barely escaping the destruction of the city back to his homeland of Gilneas.
The Worgen Wizard and Witch: After years of being a feral worgen, Nelen regains his sanity with the aid of the Alchemist, Krennan, and meets a warlock who is not what she seems.
The Sha Within: Nelen's human and worgen sides are in constant conflict, causing him to lose control regularly and descend back into his feral state once more until Shalandrae can pull him back. Jaie has a suggestion however: seek help from her people in Pandaria.
Race: Worgen
Class: Mage, Arcane School
Eye Color: Purple in his human form, glowing violet in his worgen form
Birthplace: Gilneas
Residence: Stormwind City, Old Town District. Avalon House
Personal Rune: "Grand Library."
Abilities:
Skilled in Arcane Magic: Nelen specializes in the arcane. He is a capable mage, trained in old Dalaran as a child before it fell to the scourge and having honed his skills in the battlefield as an adult.
The Worgen Curse: Nelen was bitten during the worgen invasion of Gilneas and is now a worgen himself. His worgen form grants him increased agility and stamina and a greatly enhanced sense of smell, at the cost of difficulty with self control and anger management.
Scribe: Nelen is an educated man and able to write and read with much higher proficiency than the average citizen of the Alliance. He uses his skills for research for his allies in Avalon, as well as for the Kirin Tor. He is also talented at woodcarving and has made both his own wizard's staff as well as Shalandrae's stave. He also assisted in the creation of the communication stones that he and the other members of Avalon and Savage United use to talk over long distances.
Wizard's Sanctum: Due to his service to the Kirin Tor during the Legion's invasion he earned the right to a small wizard's sanctum. It is in a secure location accessible only by teleportation and is about the size of the average studio apartment. He maintains a library of various esoteric and arcane knowledge there, as well as several other tools for studying the magical nature of the world. For details on his sanctum, click here. For examples of his book collection, click here.
Wolf God's Hunt: When facing a powerful foe, Nelen can invoke his mirror images... with a twist. Rather than a trio of copies, no less than EIGHT conjurations will appear, and rather than appearing as duplicates of himself they will appear as massive horse-sized wolves with razor sharp fangs and claws. These wolves will attack his foe as one, tearing into them as each attack sears the foe's body with arcane fire. However, to cast such a spell requires tremendous energy itself. Nelen cannot cast this unless he is near a powerful source of magic that he can tap such as the Azure Archives, or the Sunwell (both of which he would need a VERY good reason for using lest he risk the wrath of their keepers.)

History
Born in Gilneas around the time of the original opening of the Dark Portal, Nelen showed an aptitude for magic at a young age. While Genn Greymane was already leaning isolationist back in those days even he recognized that a young man who knew how to conjure flames but not how to STOP conjuring them was a dangerous thing, thus he was granted permission to travel to Dalaran for training in the arcane arts. This wasn't special, many Gilnean mages applied and recieved this royal permission. It meant a lot less housefires.
He spent his youth there, befrending a young man named Edwood Vargas, a native of the Drustvar region of Kul'Tiras⊠until the start of the Third War and the invasion by the Scourge. Nelen was there when the city fell, witnessing Edwood's death at the hands of Arthas Menethil (though he did not know WHO the dark rider was at the time) and fleeing the city as it fell to the undead, just barely escaping the Lich King's minions through a portal back to Gilneas City.
From there the Scourge came to batter at the Gilnean Wall and King Greymane called all those learned in the magical arts to a council to determine what could be done about this threat. Nelen, now a young man in his early 20s, saw his former teacher Archmage Arugal step forward with a radical plan. Arugal was a master in the art of summoning and had learned of a powerful living weapon dwelling in a realm close to Azeroth. A race of monstrous wolf-men who were immune to the Plague of Undeath.
However, the plan backfired and the worgen turned on the Gilneans, invading the country themselves! Nelen was bitten as Gilneas City fell to the feral monsters and wound up joining their ranks. He ran wild with the worgen for several years until he was captured by King Greymane and his agents and, thanks to the alchemical knowledge of Krenan, his sanity was restored.
From there he fought his way out of Gilneas with the rest of his countrymen, aided by the warlock Dissonantia and the druidess Shalandrae Deeproots, and eventually travelled to Stormwind City to join Shalandrae's newly founded adventurer's group: Avalon.
Trivia
Nelen was my original OC, rolled when Worgen first became playable in Cataclysm. I've used him ever since.
Nelen is asexual and aromantic, stating at one point that his true love is literature and learning above all else. That being said, he does have strong platonic feelings for his friends and allies.
Despite Grimo's gruff and surly nature, Nelen respects him as a skilled engineer, and the two are actually seen to have several moments of camaraderie in the story.
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Fallout ocs
- Worldstate one (aka jersey takes canon with a grain of salt)
Kamilah Vaughn ( lone wanderer. Science nerd , lover of Butch , adopter of kids, was kidnapped by the institute along with dr.li)
Samantha âSammyâ Malone (Courier 6. Sister of skinny Malone from fallout 4. Wild wasteland. Cannibal and vampire, with the black widow and cherchez le femme perks. âWe like to get fucked up and do fucked up shit!â)
Frances Kelley (Sole Survivor. An advanced prototype synth that can have children [via human egg implants]. Was given the memory of a woman from vault 111 - unbeknownst to the team it was a combat veteran. Wants her âsonâ back despite not being at all related to father or Shaun. )
Victorie Harlowe ( Fallout 76. A teenage overachiever, she was closely following the footsteps of the overseer. Top of her class, model pioneer scout, well rounded but with undiagnosed mental illness that caused her to crash and burn in the beginning. After leaving the vault she becomes a chemist, full time responder, restarts the pioneer scouts, and creates a town. Becomes a ghoul and lives to the present)
Erin Harlowe ( descendant of Victorie. Sheâs a senior scribe for the brotherhood of steel, in love with proctor quinlan. Has her own doubts of the brotherhood and just needs a safe outlet to do her archaeology and archive research.)
The Girl (half-fleshed out idea of a prototype gen 3 synth that escaped. Follows Sam around like a 90s movie damsel in distress)
Liida Reviere ( fallout 4âs the forged oc. I had fleshed out a lot of headcanon for the forged and she was my basis for it. A second in command for Slag, shes big and silent and strong. Has a big scar that trisects her face. )
Atomic (a fallout 4 oc that is a real estate developer. She owns a lot of settlements and gives them away to good people for free after renovating them. If she catches bad shit going down on her properties well... heaven have mercy.)
I had an overboss oc but I donât remember her
Also have a nuka cola quantum ghoul but sheâs not fleshed out either
Maybe Iâll make more lol. I want to actually develop this into a big story.
- Worldstate 2 ( jersey says that heâll play the game and not think so har but heâs lying )
Laura Walker (Sole survivor. A stereotype weak feminine housewife that is thrust into the world of the post-apocalypse. She is scared but learns to conquer her fear)
Danger (Courier 6. No clue yet but heâs a dude)
(No name yet. A Lone wanderer that is very much into helping write the wastelanders guide. A historian and researcher by nature.)
#fallout oc#fallout 4 oc#fallout 76#fallout 76 oc#fallout 4#fallout 3#fallout new vegas#fallout 3 oc#fallout new Vegas oc#courier six#lone wanderer#sole survivor#myocs
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How to Play as Belle in DnD 5e
Belle is my favorite Disney Princess, and from my favorite fairytale covered by the Disney company. Which is why itâs a crying shame she hasnât been properly built until now. I mean, I have built her before, but that was terrible, and Iâve since changed my mind on how best to build her. So, go on. Unfold your menu. Take a glance, and then youâll, have to suffer through my cringy attempt at humor.
Belle is a perfectly ordinary person. Thereâs nothing too remarkable about her. As such, itâs easy to write her off as just an ordinary Standard Human. But hold on, thereâs her literary version to consider. In the very first version written by Suzanne-Barbot de Villeneuve in 1740, Belle is the daughter of a king and a fairy, making Belle a half-fairy. So, you could also build her as a Variant Human with the Fey Touched feat to give her that fey analogue, or go Half-Elf for the bonus skills.
BACKGROUND
Belleâs background can lean one of two ways, and I recommend shaping her background to the subclass you pick out for her.
Guild Artisan As a guild artisan, Belle can be a tinkerer, metalworker, or alchemist by trade. Itâs also called Guild Merchant, and her father is a merchant in most versions of the fairytale, fitting as most peasant girls would likely take up her fatherâs trade. This puts more emphasis on Belle making things by hand, and gives her proficiency with Insight and Persuasion.
Sage With this background, Belle is a researcher or librarian, recording and preserving knowledge in a vast library or workshop. This feeds more into Belleâs love of literature and reading, and is a good translation of Belleâs hobbies and interests into the realm of Dungeons and Dragons. The Sage background gives Belle proficiency with Arcana and History.
CLASS
ARTIFICER
As tempting as a Lore Mastery or Order of the Scribes Wizard would be to make Belle a magical intellect, I find that the more scientific angle of the Artificer feels more at home with the daughter of an inventor. Granted, if Belle grew up in the setting of DnD, she may be far more fascinated with wizardry and magic, but as a pure translation of her screen counterpart, the logic-driven inventor class feels more appropriate for her. Especially since it can easily allow her spells to be reflavored as whacky inventions created either by Belle or her father. However, if youâd rather play Belle as a dedicated squishy caster with a love for magic instead of science, then either Lore Mastery Wizard or Order of the Scribes Wizard is a perfectly appropriate substitution build for Belle. And if an INT caster isnât really doing it for you, Belle also works great as a Knowledge Domain Cleric who seeks to understand the universe, or an Arcana Domain Cleric who worships a powerful enchantress and seeks to understand the magical strings that connect all things together in the great glamorweave of magic.
ARCHIVIST (UA)
If Belle chooses this subclass, have her background be a Sage. As an Archivist, Belle is a researcher who uses her technology to gather and store information. The articial mind feature dosenât specify if the object with the mind can think or talk, however. If it can, Belle can create Lumiere and Cogsworth to store information for her. Or, if the object is just an object that can show Belle information, then have her use Beastâs enchanted mirror to show her things.
ARTILLERIST
As an Artillerist, Belle will gain more from being a Guild Artisan. Itâs not quite Belleâs style, but this artificer subclass comes the closest to making Belle an inventor, as she can craft laser cannons, flamethrowers, mobile forcefields, and other things. I did consider the Battle Smith, but that one seems far more focused on Belle herself fighting on the front lines, and that doesnât really fit her style. Belle is far more at home tinkering and inventing than she is standing over a hot anvil, forging weapons.
SIDEKICK
GNOLL DEFENDER WARRIOR
The new sidekick mechanic introduced in Tashaâs Cauldron of Everything allows us to be joined by a simplified build PC that can be any creature type with a CR 1/2 or lower. I chose a gnoll as these bipedal hyena-like creatures come the closest to Beastâs aesthetic, although the Jackalwere is another great option in its hybrid form, and lets Beast play more with a werewolf type angle. As Belleâs sidekick, Beast can flank her in battle, and so long as heâs within 5 feet of her, Belleâs enemies will have disadvantage on hitting her. Though he also works as an Attacker Warrior, charging ahead to the front lines while Belle stays in the back of the teamâs formation to cast her spells from a distance. Just pick his warrior style by how he approaches combat. If you want to lean more into the Artificer angle and make the Beast something sheâs built, use the stats for the Stone Giant Statue and make it an Anvilwrought.
Belleâs Spell Library
Cantrips Firebolt Message Ray of Frost Shocking Grasp
1st Level Catapult Grease Tashaâs Caustic Brew
2nd Level Arcane Lock Heat Metal Magic Weapon
3rd Level Elemental Weapon Glyph of Warding Tiny Servant
4th Level Fabricate Otilukeâs Resilient Sphere Summon Construct
5th Level Animate Objects Bigbyâs Hand Creation
Ultimately, whether you favor Belle as a tinkerer or a mage, sheâll make great use of her keen intellect in Dungeons and Dragons, and with the sidekick feature, she can be flanked by a bestial creature without having to dip into Beast Master Ranger, or having another player agree to make Beast in order to complete the set.Â
#belle#disney#beauty and the beast#batb#dnd#Dungeons and Dragons#dungeons & dragons#dnd 5e#5e#Fifth Edition#dnd fifth edition#5th edition#dnd 5th edition#beast#disney beast#prince adam#princess belle#tale as old as time#artificer#wizard#cleric#tashas cauldron of everything#tcoe#wotc#disney princess#disney princesses
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Own Character's Post: no one asked about edition! today with: Mei and Jian
warning: under the line you'll meet the most crackhead couple but still the cutest one i have ever wrote, also, a feminist plot, ancient china inspired lore in which i spent more time doing research that in my own uni works, my protected babies, me basically screaming about them and a couple extra scenes i have made specifically in the case i ever publish this and anyone asks for romantic extras to fill the void of the dramas i'm gonna write (this is a joke. the first part, i mean. angst is confirmed). sorry in advance. also, let me know if you would like to meet my other characters (such as Yvonne, Martiño, Ares, Ryu, Micah or Shi hehe) also, plot is still in development so patience pls jfhafjka. i hope you love them as much as i do <3
Mei Yun
Mei Yun is the third kid from a family of seven children. She's honest, smart and quite a daydreamer most of the time. Even when girls couldn't study on her times (and less a girl from the lowest class like her.), his big brother's drinking buddy turned out to be a royal scribe, one of the highest public charges, for the Prince Li at the Blue Palace ( in Olquivilla, the capital of the south district of the island), and, illegally and by secret, he accepts to give classes to her as a favor to his brother, for all the times he has helped him. What the scribe didn't expect to find was a writer. With all the letters. A girl with an imagination beyond humans, someone whose words tangled so beautifully ones with others, with so many stories to tell. As an author himself, he's amazed by her capability of tangle the plots, to give characters real emotions and her ability of avoiding plot holes. But, still, she has a big problem: being literate for a girl her age, without any type of relation with high class people, and, specially, without a husband, something she doesn't need and something she doesn't want, is forbidden and punished. She's almost 22, and it will be fast when the royal palace assigns her some type of horrible candidate to marry, the one she will accept, or else she'll be accused of practicing the old demoniac magic and burned alive, to say the least. But, so unexpectedly, the same man that saved her stories, is willing to save her life by asking for her hand in marriage. Maybe he has other reasons to stay near her.
Jian Gao
On the other hand, Jian Gao is the youngest of two. Raised up by his granny and feeling as the needed and unwanted male heir that the Gao needed, he writes romantic stories to try to find the real meaning of love, to try to get an idea of that idilic, romantic relationships he has dreaming of since he studied abroad, reading tons and tons of novels, for his translator condition. Even when he's the Prince's right hand, Jian likes to be, as much as the Prince himself does, mixed with the people on the city. Talk with them, help them, learn from them. And his very favorite liquor is from the little tavern in front of the Yun's house, where he meets Tai Yun, Mei's older brother, who helps him at nights he feels the most stressed and becomes a friend with who Jian loves to share a cup. In exchange, Tai asks Jian a complicated question: to help his sister to learn how to write more complex, a forbidden action that could cost his work, her life, and all of her family's money. But when he meets her, asking why she wants to learn, he listens to her ideas, to her plots. And he thinks everyone should be able to read those words, and to feel, even through a book, the intense feeling she's willing to share. And, somehow, he feels an strange attraction to her stories.
so here they are! <3 the plot is still under construction, after all, jian wasn't going to be anything more than a scribe in one chapter and mei a side character and crush of the prince, but i felt like i needed to give them the leadership they deserve! i wanted to write something light hearted (not like stalker bc i swear i can't handle this bunch of little devils), but something to just make people smile and fall in love slowly with the way the two of them see love as. omg i'm so nervous i'm sorry dhjfkhal i feel like i'm presenting my children. and now i'm leaving here a couple of extras i wrote for them <3 i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know any opinion or criticism aaa
Extra 1
(...) "Tai is at the inn. Grandma is here" Kumiko says. I bend down to kiss her hair before leaving.
"Tell her I've gone to take something to Tai, that I'll be back before dinner" I leave the living room and the house quickly. I see Tai's large silhouette sitting at one of the tables outside, his hand holding a small glass. He's talking to someone.
"Hey, Mei!" Tai shouts when he sees me. I sigh when I hear him, walking towards his table. Tai is too loud when he drinks, and I'm sure he's not even drunk yet. "Sit with us, sis."
When I reach my brother's table, the bodies that kept me from seeing his companion dissipate. It's another man. Tall, perhaps a little more mature than the last time I saw him. This time, he wears his hair down, a couple of front locks pulled back, leaving his profile in full view. I know he's smiling when he speaks, even though his glass covers his mouth.
"Long time no see, Yun Mei." Jian's voice is still as calm as ever when he speaks to me. His movements, even though he's had a little to drink, are just as fluid and elegant, slow but graceful. Her cheeks are slightly flushed, so I sense that the scribe must have more alcohol on him than he appears to have. Tai pats a seat next to him, but I don't trust him. I don't want to tell my brother about this here, he might shout it out loud and expose all three of us. Me, for writing. Him, for lying to the Prince. Jian, for disobeying the law. I decide to keep quiet for the moment. My old tutor is still watching me. Although the last time he taught me I had already turned nineteen, it is true that I had changed. However, he is still the same as ever. "How have you been?"
My cheeks begin to redden as I notice Jian's golden gaze above me, his fingers playing with the small glass near his mouth, which glistens from the traces of alcohol he just licked. "GoodâŠ. Thank you," he smiles at me before getting up and paying. "Do you have to go now?" I ask. Jian sighs, the smile returning to his lips as he turns to me.
"I'm⊠Maybe I'm not quite soberâŠ" his hand moves up to my cheek. "And you look beautiful, as alwaysâŠ" With one last smile, Jian leaves the little square, walking calmly back to his house. Tai puts an arm around my shoulders.
"Let's go, Tai."
Jian's caress still tingles on my skin as I walk back to my brother. I remember feeling that the first time we kissed. Going home with my finger on my lips as I felt them tingle. Hui Ying had compared it to the brush of a butterfly's wings on the skin. I looked back, but Jian's slender silhouette had already disappeared.
I liked Jian. I liked him a lot, ever since the day he came through my front door claiming he was coming to give me lessons, when I was days away from being twenty and he had just turned twenty-four. It had started to rain and the bottom of his hanfu was wet, and his hair was dripping incessantly on his face. I prepared hot tea for both of us and offered him Tai's dry clothes, which he declined. We started the class and there I realized how attractive I found him, how intelligent he is and how gently he smiled at me when I was wrong. My heart was beating especially fast when his huge hand rested on top of mine, helping me to trace the drawing accurately. It was common for him to do that, but my body never got used to the touch. I would look up at him in awe, my cheeks flushed and my eyes sparkling. With each passing class, his closeness began to become more comfortable, how he would lift my chin with two fingers to look at him when I became frustrated after a very difficult word; how he would reach over my shoulder to read during our classes, the innocent brushes of our hands when we exchanged papers. The attraction turned out to be mutual after a year of teaching, when the brushes were no longer casual but sought after. Jian would go for walks with me in the huge garden of his house when he attended class there, always with his hair down and without any adornment to show his superior position to mine. We would walk while he explained to me what scribe's work in the palace was like, while we laughed at any nonsense and he gently brushed my hair away from my face to look me in the eyes.
Jian, at any rate, never did anything I didn't want him to. He stood by until I allowed him to kiss me, the hand touches were purely casual until he took my hand. I still remember the hint of tea and alcohol from the last kiss we shared, just before he gave me the most painful letter I had ever received.
It was an envelope with a leaf from the peach tree we liked to sit on, and a piece of paper written in handwriting that didn't look like his, blurry and shaky.
"We can't see each other anymore." (...)
Extra 2 ok no more angst i swear this one is even painful from the corniness
(...) "It's a good idea, after all, he is an erudite" my father talks to himself as if trying to convince himself that Tai's idea is not terrible. Kumiko keeps watching me, studying my reactions despite being so young. My mother has a huge smile and my grandmother has my hand locked in hers. Opposite on the table, Hai holds a half-asleep Zihao in her arms, listening intently. "Still, aren't the parents who search for the daughter-in-law? Why a poor young woman? I mean, my daughter, you are beautiful and intelligent, a good matchâŠ. but shouldn't he marry a noblewoman?" Tai asks for silence as he picks up the letter. He rereads it quickly. "Apparently, Jian Gao spoke so highly of Mei to his parents that they allowed Jian to marry her. You can tell he loves her very much." Everyone's gaze falls on me. It's true, Jian loves me, as much as I love him. But marriage is a big thing. Especially for a girl like me, used to eating just enough dinner to keep from fainting from hunger, reusing and sewing the same hanfu over and over again, and pretending to be illiterate on a daily basis while i study next to him. To marry a man like him. An erudite, a royal scribe, taught in all the arts and excelled in letters, with a job in the royal chamber of scribes. Known as an author, with addictive literature. And very attractive. Tall, amber-eyed and pale-skinned, with rosy lips and an easy smile. Women whisper when they see him pass by, offering to carry his books or fix his manbun. Always so attentive and affectionate, so closeâŠ.
"âŠ.which is why I think they should get married." Tai finishes.
(...)
"Are you unhappy with the proposal," Jian asks later, walking beside me near the watercourse in his garden. The hanfu he gave me fits me well, as if it was sewn for me. I clear my throat and force myself to smile, though I don't look directly at him.
"No, no. It just caught me by surprise, that's all. I'm not unhappy." Though Jian gives me a worried look, which means he doesn't quite trust what I say, he sighs and continues walking silently. As is common, he does not wear any ornaments in his hair or hanfu to show his superior position, despite being on his property. When I arrived at his house, perhaps a little before the appointed time, Jian was just finishing taking a bath. His servant ushered me into the sitting room to wait for him, and I saw him appear shortly after with his damp hair tied up in a high bun. He looked so ethereal and unreal. I could tell he looked like an appetizing future, but it terrified me. To be the mistress of a house like that, to walk beside him as his wife. To be seen as property.
I know Jian doesn't intend that. His eyes are sincere when he speaks, but I can't help but think so. It's what people will say, deep down. Jian stops walking, his hand gripping my waist, making me stop. He watches me closely, amber eyes roaming my face, so close, I could even count the dark flecks glinting in his irises.
"I don't know what you're thinking," he murmurs, softly. "But really, Mei. Don't do something you don't want to do. I don't want to force you into anything, let alone pressure you. I want you to have the final say. Not me, not your father, not mine. You." Jian's fingers are even faster than my tears when he wipes them away.
"It's not for meâŠ" I whisper. Jian watches me, listening carefully. "I don't want people talking about you. That I'm younger than you, that I'm poor, that I'm not one of those pretty candidates the matchmaker is looking for. That you let yourself be lured by a girl with a lust for money."
Jian smiles subtly, before pressing his lips gently against my forehead.
"MeiâŠ" he pulls away from me slowly, fixing his eyes on mine again. "I don't care what people say about me. The important thing is that I'll have you by my side. And I know what I feel, just like you know what you feel. As long as we are sure, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks." (..)
#cookie's babies#my own character#my oc writing#my oc story#jian gao#mei yun#my ocs#do not steal or jian will spell a cast in ancient greek against you#fluff#i guess#my own writing#hehe#cookie talks#we're gonna name them#huuuuh#Blue Palace ?#nah#well i think of something better if this is good#romance#ancient chinese#ancient romance#romance book
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Scribes Wizard Concept
A random character concept for a battered, shy, deeply romantic half-elven wizard girl. Not sure where it came from, but you know?
(Okay, so A Little Princess and The Secret Garden might be influences)
(Possibly a bit triggery, with illegitimate children and resulting abuse from a family patriarch)
Character Sheet: Miriam âBroomâ
Name: Miriam âBroomâ
Race:Â Half-Elf
Age: 22
Background:Â Illegitimate Noble Child
Class/Level:Â Wizard 2 (Scribes)
Statistics:Â Strength 8, Dexterity 14, Constitution 16, Intelligence 16, Wisdom 12, Charisma 10
Ideal:Â âThere should be a little more kindness, magic and beauty in this world.â
Bond:Â âIâm going to have a beautiful, romantic adventure for myself. And maybe, if itâs possible, find my father along the way.â
Flaw:Â âI want, someday, to have someone write words to me like the ones my father wrote to my mother. Even if theyâre not real. Even if they end badly.â
Skills & Languages:
Tools: Calligrapherâs tools
Skills:Â Arcana, History, Insight, Perception, Religion, Stealth
Languages:Â Common, Elvish, Celestial, Draconic
Traits, Feats and Background/Class Features:Â Darkvision (60ft), Fey Ancestry, Skill Versatility, Researcher, Arcane Recovery, Ritual Casting, Wizardly Quill, Awakened Spellbook
Spells:
Cantrips: Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, Chill Touch
Spells: Shield, Mage Armour, Feather Fall, Detect Magic, Comprehend Languages, Alarm, Magic Missile, Chromatic Orb
Equipment: Travellerâs clothes, a dagger, her spellbook, an explorerâs pack, a book of chivalric romances, a bundle of half-burned letters, and a small green pendant
Spellbook: A rather battered but beautiful and hardy leather-bound notebook, well-kept and with truly beautiful penmanship
Description:Â A shy, mousy sort of a girl, whip-thin, with a thin, ascetic face and short, fluffy, ash-blonde hair. Sheâs very, very pale, and tends to walk a little hunched. Her clothing is good but worn. Slightly ostentatious, like a rich personâs idea of cheap clothing. If the wind catches her hair wrong, you can see an elven slant to her ears, and some nasty scarring on the right one, as if someone tried to tear or cut off the tip, and the mangled results were healed badly.
History:
The girl introducing herself as Miriam Broom was born, at least technically, as Miriam Eldredge. Her mother was still an Eldredge at the time, although she wasnât meant to be for long.
Lady Leah Eldredge, daughter of Lord Penrose Eldredge, had been betrothed to Baron Catherwood for two years, a family arrangement, when she caught the eye and the adoration of a travelling elven gentleman. Their affair was secret, knowing her fatherâs likely reaction, but ardent. He wrote her beautiful letters, things she kept and treasured, and sent her a small jade pendant too, as a promise of his intentions. But the pendant would prove their downfall. Her father noticed it, and grew suspicious of its origins. He searched her rooms, and found and attempted to destroy her cache of letters. He was livid that she would betray him in this manner, knowing she was promised to someone else, on his good word and name. He shut her in the house, and sent out search parties for the mysterious âL.â of her letters. They never found her elven lover. Which was very fortunate, because not long into her confinement, they realised she was with child.
Eldredges, particularly promised Eldredges, cannot and shall not have illegitimate children.
Lord Penrose kept his daughter confined, under the guise of an âillnessâ, until the child was born. Little Miriam, who unfortunately wore her fatherâs blood visibly. Lord Penrose took her from her mother almost instantly, and kept her where her mother could not find her or connect with her. He kept Leah confined for half a year longer. Long enough for her to ârecoverâ a little more, and understand his viewpoint much more clearly. And then, when he was assured of her obedience once more, he sent to her promised wedding, and her new husband, with the instruction to never, ever, mention her previous affair, or the bastard that had resulted from it.
And as for Miriam ⊠For some reason known only to himself, Lord Eldredge chose to keep her in his house. Not as a daughter or granddaughter, of course, but not as anything else either. She stayed with a wet-nurse for a time, but as she grew into a young child, the two sides of her heritage became increasingly obvious in her. Her fatherâs elven nature, and her motherâs Eldredge looks. It became very obvious very young that she could be nothing but an Eldredge bastard.
And still Lord Eldredge didnât cast her out, and Miriam never once understood why. He kept her out of sight, away from guests and gossips, yes. He made sure she understood, as thoroughly as possible, that she must never, ever introduce herself as an Eldredge, that she didnât have the right. Yet he didnât get rid of her. He stowed her in the depths of his manor, in attics and libraries, among books and journals and windows out into a world she wasnât allowed to touch. When he realised she had started reading, half teaching herself, he gave her at least access to the library, if not tutelage. He let her read, and practice penmanship and calligraphy. He was cold and vicious and occasionally violent, particularly towards signs of her paternal heritage, but he didnât ⊠let her go. Not for years. He tried, in odd, distant, half-violent ways, to be ⊠of some relation to her.
But then, studying his books and his journals and his papers, a skinny young Miriam, in her late teens, discovered two things. One, magic. He had books of the stuff, wonderous, intriguing books, and she had taught herself to read. She could teach herself magic too. And the second thing âŠ
Her mother had managed to save some small few letters from that last, destructive discovery of her secret love. In the midst of her âillnessâ, pregnant with her daughter and hidden away from the rest of the house, she had managed to scavenge some half-burned scraps and hide them away. Along with a pendant, that her father had thrown at her in his rage and accusation, and had never quite remembered to pick back up. She hadnât dared bring it with her, not to her new marriage, to an old friend of her fatherâs, but she had kept them nonetheless. And hidden them, in her âsickroomâ. Where Miriam, young and coltish and eager, finally discovered them.
Miriam was entranced. Utterly entranced by the words, the beautiful, ardent, longing words her father had sent her mother. The beauty and the romance of them. Hand-in-hand with her blooming enchantment with magic, went her equal enchantment with romance, and with the memory, in fragmented words, of her father.
This second betrayal, the mirror of the first, was more than Lord Penrose could suffer. When he found her wearing the pendant one evening, in her room where she thought she was at least a little safe, he was ⊠beyond reason. For the second child of his house to betray him for this man, to snub his generosity and his restraint, was past all bearing for him. When she tried to defend herself with magic, with knowledge all but stolen from his libraries, only to be turned against him, it was the final straw.
He didnât kill her. It was a near thing, and her right ear would always bear the mark of that last fit of violence, but he didnât kill her. He banished her, instead. Told to get out, to get as far as humanly or elvenly possible from his lands and anyone who might know his family name. To never seek him out again, never mention his name or make any claim of it. To never seek her mother, either. She never had before, while under his power, and she was not to do so now. For her motherâs sake, he made sure to clarify. If her âmistakeâ was ever discovered, her husband would surely react badly. So stay away, little girl. Stay away from all of them. Seek out your bastard father if you must, since apparently your grandfather will not suffice for you.
He gave her clothes, and a bag, and some few coins, and cast her out. She stole ⊠a few other things. Only a handful. Her little book of notes on magic. Her motherâs letters and pendant. And a book. Her favourite book, full of lovely, romantic, courtly tales. A treasure, to remind her of better things.
And then she went out, a battered, scared, sheltered teenager, into a wild wonderful world. Determined to seek ⊠adventure. Romance, at least the distant, gentle, beautiful kind. And maybe her father. All she has is his initial, and a few fragments of information gleaned from the letters. Small things, likes and dislikes, maybe a mention or two of places heâd seen. Not enough to really search. But maybe sheâll stumble upon him along the way.
Where thereâs life, thereâs hope, after all.
Note: âBroomâ, her new nom-de-plume, was the result of a complete panic attack the first time a stranger asked her name, and is a total line-of-sight moniker because there was a street-sweeper working two feet away and her terrified brain blanked completely. But, a nameâs a name, and itâs no worse than a lot of them, so âMiriam Broomâ it is.
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Correspondence
Ficlet of a budding friendship between Tonks and Lupin in Harryâs 3rd year. Tonks trains near hogsmead and has found a companion in Remus Lupin. Dora returns home from a disastrous date too late to march up to the castle, but early enough the professor is able to answer her owl.
Pairing: Tonks/Lupin
Words: 1,378
She kicked off her shoes as she closed the door behind her. He definitely wasnât worth putting on her sexiest heels. The aspiring âActorâ was pretty, but nothing else. Not interesting, not smart and not worth her time. She was thankful that she was able to get out of there before too late. She undid her top knot and morphed her wavy blonde locks back to a pink pixie cut. Merlin that boy was dumb. She wasnât a muggle, but she had some idea about how their world worked and she was pretty sure cars didnât run on magnets. She poured her self a glass of wine. Maybe that was the problem, she hadnât had enough alcohol to handle the boy. She sat in the window seat facing the castle. She thought back on the conversation they had.
âWell My parents wanted a girl.â He said as if she asked or cared, âBut my dad only has one testicle you see, they thought it was the one that gets you a girl, but turns out it was the boy ball he had left.â It was at that point she asked for the check. She laughed at the ridiculous night she had and thought ahead to how Remus would react when she told him. She was sure he would get a kick out of the actor thinking that planes can only fly in the same direction as the wind.
âSee thatâs why some of them have the big fans on the wing.â She sat sipping her wine for a moment. She wasnât an expert on muggle affairs, but she knew planes left at all times of the day and that they didnât wait until it was âwindyâ. She chuckled, and took another sip of wine. She wasnât sure what caused her to register it. Maybe the light had just turned on, or maybe she was thinking of him and her eyes naturally searched for it, but Tonks saw that the window to Remusâ tower office was alit. She smiled up at the castle thinking maybe she could go up and tell him about it. A quick check of her watch told her it was much too late for that. She would have to wait to hear his response. He was up though, probably grading papers or planning lessons like the prudent professor he was. Tonks watched the light for a few minutes wondering if he was actually awake doing work or if he had fallen asleep while grading. She laughed at the thought of him drooling on some fourth yearâs homework. She decided to get an answer to her question. She called over her owl, putting aside her glass of wine and scribbing a quick note to the professor. She sent the bird off through the window, then turned her mind to the debate of changing into more comfortable clothes.
~
Remus Lupin was fighting the weight of his eyelids. He needed to finish grading these essays for tomorrowâs fifth year class. They were all working so hard to catch up to his rigorous lessons in preparation for their O.W.Ls. He needed to match their effort. But it was getting pretty late and he had a 6 am staff meeting. His head kept lolling jolting him back awake, but only for a minute or so until he would sink back into the temptations of sleep. He was in this endless cycle when he heard an incessant tapping. It had taken him an extra twenty seconds to register that the noise was coming from his window. Another 10 seconds to realize it was an owl. He rose from his desk and opened the window for the small tawny owl. He must have been exhausted, because he hadnât realized it was Tonksâ owl until after he read the attached note. In her round scribe it said
âYouâre up late.' He huffed in amusement. Checking his watch he confirmed that she had only left for her date an hour ago. Knowing her boisterous persona he knew this meant the date had not gone well. He wrote his response below her writing and sent the owl back through the open window. Though it was dark and he couldnât see the owl once it dove out of his tower, he imagined the flight it took to the town down below. He tired to discern her window from the other minuscule lights twinkling up from the village. Maybe next time sheâs here heâll ask which one is hers. With the cool air shocking his face, he felt a second wind brew up in him. He turned back to the essays and picked up reading Lee Jordans.
~
The leather pants were swapped out for flannel pajama bottoms and her white halter top was exchanged for a white tank. Tonks was sipping her wine and reading her book on the couch. The warm tingling sensation of the wine mixed with the warmth radiating from the fire in the mantle was acting as effectively as a calming draught. A tapping on the window broke her from her lull. She saw Artemis at the window pecking for entry. She opened the window and detached the parchment on his foot. He flew over to his perch and drank from his bottle awaiting further instruction as he preened his wings. She unrolled the parchment. Below her note was Remusâ sharp handwriting reading,
âYouâre home early.â She laughed imagining the cheeky grin he would have had on his face when he wrote his response. She picked up her quill and wrote her response. Artemis landed on her shoulder as she rolled the parchment, extending his leg for its attachment. The owl nipped her ear affectionately as she attached the note. Tonks rubbed the top of his head earning a low hoot of appreciation. The owl set off and Tonks turned back to her book and wine with a soft smile still playing on her lips in response to the professors note.
~
Lee Jordan hadnât really done his research on disillusionment charms and it showed in his essay. It was a shame to see him slip in his academics, but he refused to show up to Remusâ extra classes and was really dodging all of his attempts to help. Maybe he could get Fred and George to help bring the young man back to the supplemental classes. Remus felt the disturbance of air behind him before the owl flew into his peripherals. The owl hopped from the edge of his desk closer to him. Remus detached the note from his leg. The Professor rubbed he owls head as he read the note from Nymphadora.
âThe best part of the date was the end of it.â He chuckled hearing Artemis hoot in appreciation to Lupinâs head rubs. âIâll tell you about it when I see you next,â the note went on, âTomorrow?â He felt a warm sensation pulse through him at the promise of tomorrow. He looked down to the small Tawny Owl, now with his eyes closed leaning into Remusâ hand as it rubbed circles in his feathers.
âMind doing another trip for me?â He asked the owl that nipped his fingers affectionately.
~
Artemis flew through the window Tonks had left open waiting for the response form the professor. She read the now crowded parchment, feeling a laugh bubble up in her.
âSounds lovely. 7pm at Broomsticks? Will I be apologizing on behalf of all men?â She looked down at the owl smiling
âYou up for one more delivery.â He tilted his head in response.
~
Lupin hadnât even fully settled back into his grading mindset when Artemis landed on his shoulder.
âHello again.â The owl extended his leg dutifully.
âWouldnât hurt.â Was written on the back of their original parchment with, âGood night Professor.â Below it. He smiled fondly at the note looking to her owl that had hopped down form his shoulder and was drinking from his now cold tea. He stood from his desk and walked back to the window wondering for the second time that night which one of the distant lights was hers. Unbeknownst to him the young auror was lost in thought down in the village looking back up at him.
#nymphadora tonks#tonks#tonks and lupin#remus and tonks#Nymphadora#Nymphadora Lupin#REMUS AND NYMPHADORA#Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks#Remus Lupin#remus#Remus John Lupin#remadora#professor lupin#lupin#Harry Potter#remus and tonks fanfiction#poa
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[A/N: I am kind of writing this for myself (ngl) but I thought it would be interesting to see how something like this plays out. A multi-part AU where the characters are attending university in South Korea. The main female character is black/African-American but that will later become more of a factor as the story goes on. Seonghwa and the MC exchange letters through a book in one of the libraries on campus and without know each other, grow a connection through that. Hongjoong is the classmate and group partner of the MC but has no idea that they are exchanging letters to each other until further on in the story. This part is just a quick introduction to the characters and their overall placements in the story.]
Her Secret Scribe, His Winter Dream (1)
Pairing: Seonghwa x Black Female MC & Hongjoong x Black Female MC
Genre: College!AU
Word Count: 2,885
October 29, 2020 ~4:50am
Waking up at around 4:50am, Seonghwa notices that his textbook, notes, highlighters, and pen are all still neatly placed on his desk. He placed it there with the intent to get some early morning studying in before his shower and a little bit after his shower, just before he left for his first class of the day. He wills himself up from his warm, soft, and comfortable bed to walk to the bathroom to freshen up. On his way to the bathroom, he passes by his roommates partially opened door and takes a peek to see if he made it in last night. Or more like, early this morning. Poking the top of his head through the door opening Seonghwa sees his roommate. There lies Hongjoong, fully clothed, face-first, bag still hanging off of his shoulder, lying on top of his bed, and in the starfish position. All Seonghwa can do is shake his head at his friend, knowing how bad his sleeping habits are and how much is is hardly at the apartment nowadays.
After checking on Hongjoong, Seonghwa goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. Then he strips himself of his pajamas and gets into the shower. Showers have always been a bit of a meditative practice to Seonghwa. His average time is forty minutes but there are occasions where he has spent up to 50 minutes or an hour in the shower. He prides himself on his cleanliness, both in how he physically presents himself and the spaces that he exists in (apartment, bed, desk, etc...).
Once his shower is done, he wraps his towel around his hips and then makes his way to the kitchen. There he takes out four eggs, a container of rice, and some steak that he grilled left over from the night before. Next, Seonghwa fills up a pot with water, sets it on one of the eyes of the stove and puts the fire on 8 (one of the highest settings). After dropping the four eggs in the water he rinses his hands off and proceeds to his bedroom to get changed.
Never one to make to much of a fuss of what he wears, Seonghwa puts on an undershirt, then throws on a grey long-sleeved thermal and a pair of black jeans. Long black socks to warm his feet, and he takes out a sweater and a jacket to keep himself warm on his way to class.
Itâs around 6:00am by the time he is finished getting dressed and now, he tends to the food that is set out in the kitchen. Reheating the steak and rice, turning off the fire underneath the pot and taking out two of the hard boiled eggs for himself. He puts it all in a bowl that he takes back to his room, and eats at his desk, while going over his notes.
Seonghwa broke up his study time into two 45-minute sessions, which allows him time to prepare a bowl for Hongjoong for breakfast (if he eats it) and make it down to his bus before it pulls up at 8:30am.
Having followed his schedule to a âTâ this morning, he was proud of himself for making it to the library before the morning rush and acquiring a desk, with a view, on the third floor before they were all occupied. Instead of pushing himself to study a bit more, since todayâs schedule was not Seonghwaâs usual schedule, he decided to write a letter on the off-chance that he can bring comfort to someone during mid-term season. Instead of writing on bathroom doors, or in the dark corner of a desk, Seonghwa decided to write a letter. Writing a letter and stashing it in a random book. Itâs getting a bit chillier in South Korea, so although it was a long shot, perhaps he can create a pen-pal through this and maybe even get close and intimate during this period as well. However, that is a very, very, very long shot.
So with romantic thoughts of meeting someone who shares a like mind or sees life from a different perspective, he writes.
âDear Student that is Enduring Mid-Terms and an Incoming Winter,
We are nearing the beginning of a new month which could mean a fresh new beginning for some. It could also mean nearing the end of something larger, like the semester. I know that itâs mid-term season but I am unsure if it has ended for you. I could only pray that you stay warm as the winter will be harsh as it usually is, but I am sure you knew that.
I honestly thought I would have more to say... but obviously not. I figured a formal letter would be better to connect with someone during this time, then short, informal, and weird messages written aimlessly. Now, Iâm getting embarrassed... Sorry.
No one will probably read this so...
With Care,
The Secret Scribeâ
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October 29, 2020 ~10:52am
Waiting in a hallway right outside the classroom, she, scrolls through her student email account on her phone and sees an email from her linguistics class. Linguistic Acquisition through Different Ages - LIA 3006. Although she knew, that to pass this class she must complete a project, she totally forgot that it had to be completed with at least one or two other people. A group project... âhow despicableâ she thought. The email that the professor sent, laid out the regulations of the project and even placed the class in neat groups of two or three. She was lucky enough to get paired with âMr. Fashionably-Late because Staying Up to Work on My Art is More Importantâ. As the time got closer and closer to 11:00am, Hongjoong is still nowhere to be seen. Sheâs just praying that he comes through at least ten minutes into class and not twenty minutes before itâs over. However, she could only pray for such a thing.
At 11:11am on the dot, Hongjoong comes through the door quietly. Chest heaving up and down because he was sprinting through the campus and hallways to make it to class... not too late. She notices him out of the corner of her eye and does a slow eye roll as he tip-toes his way in her direction.
âWas that a look of displeasure on your face? Or are you just containing your excitement to see me?â, he whispers into her ear while trying to quietly slither down into his seat, quickly, while the professor has her back turned.
âYou are one minute late past our deal, Hongjoong.â She scolds.
âSo you will not share your notes with me from today?â, he asks while giving her a pout.
âThere is nothing to share. She is still reviewing the content we learned two days ago before starting a new lesson.â She retorts.
âWhy did you roll your eyes then?â He questions again, as if his academics are the last thing he cares about.
âHongjoong- â, she starts. âIf there is something that you two would like to share with the class, please come up to the front.â The professor cuts in.
The look of two deer in the headlights is what can be seen from the professorâs viewpoint. With mouths agape and eyes wide, the two whispering chatterboxes were rendered speechless.
The professor continues on, âPlease stop whispering behind my back. Also, I need to speak with the two of you after class.â The two of them shake their heads rapidly affirming their professorâs request.
Their class is currently on the topic of children acquiring their mother tongue and how the brain develops as the children learn how to speak or bring attention to their wants and needs as they grow. A topic such as this excites her all the more because it ties into her study abroad research topic. Learning how to speak amidst all of the culture that oneâs language is tied to really fascinates her. Seeing as how her major of study in her home country is Linguistics and she took Korean because of the small intimate nature of the class, she has wanted to do and learn so much more.
As the lecture winds downs to a close for this session, Hongjoong becomes more and more anxious about what the professor wants to talk about before letting them go. Then, he hears the professor harp on,
âAs for the email I sent earlier today-â, Hongjoongâs ears perk up. âYou will see that for the group project you will have two different options to choose from. It can be turned in as a 10-page research paper, or completed as a presentation. Your groups have been chosen for you, by me. Please consult me if you have any questions on the project or the partners that you will be working with.â After the professor gives her parting words to the class, her eyes fall onto the two little songbirds that had her interrupt her lecture earlier.
With a knowing look, they make their way to the front of the class with a downcast gaze. As if they were to be physically reprimanded. âYou know that you two are partners for this group project.â The professor starts. âHongjoong you must be a reliable partner. I set you two up together because Iâve noticed a great partnership between you two throughout the semester. Your partner is also fairing better than you are this term. You can learn a great deal from her, in fact, you can learn quite a bit from each other. I want you to succeed Hongjoong, and I know you can.â The professor softens her gaze and turns to his partner. âSheâll do everything she can to help, wonât you?â She shakes her head âyesâ then looks down again. Then the professor continues to finish, âwell, that was all I needed to say. Any questions?â The two students shake their head ânoâ and bid their professor farewell before leaving the class.
âBuddies until the Christmas break?â Hongjoong says as he winks at her.
âGroup partners, more like.â She says back to him.
âWanna talk about the project over lunch?â He asks.
âAh- that sounds like a really great idea since weâre both free at this time, but...â she trails off, but then picks up again. âWhere are your eating? On campus, or off? Just asking because I figured I should check out a few language and culture books to get some foundation on our project. Iâll meet you wherever you are.
His eyebrows raise at her go-getter attitude. âSure. Meet me at the small Vietnamese spot two blocks down.â
âGot it.â She winks at him as they break apart.
She has her mind filled with countless ways to approach the project, while his is filled with hunger and images of a big flavorful dish filled with meat and vibrantly colored vegetables.
Before aimlessly searching around the library for what she needed, she looked up the language, literature, and culture and linguistic sections of the library. Literature happens to be in the basement, while language, culture, and linguistics just happen to be on the third floor. So, she sets off for the third floor.
Although quiet, the third floor is warm and the ambiance is calm. Compared to the rest of the library, this is the floor that most people like to be on, and she could tell, because there was not a place to sit. However, her journey to this floor was not for studying but a quick search. So she set off. The part of the library she set off to was a little empty, and not as cramped as the other parts but she liked it that way. The first book she pulled from the shelf had to do with childrenâs speech patterns and babies recognizing sound. Noticing that there was a folded piece of paper sticking out from the top, she flipped to that spot in the book thinking there might be valuable information on that page right from the start. Nothing out of the ordinary was written on the page. No sticky notes, no annotations or drawings, just words. Next, she took to opening up the folded sheet of paper and to her surprise, it read as a simple greetings letter.
A random letter in a random book. What was the point? Was this fate, or was it meant for someone else? She thought it was cute; with the well wishes to stay warm during harsh Korean winters, and the impending embarrassment of the writer, as well as the writer giving themselves a name. She fell for it. She fell hard. Almost immediately she began having romantic notions of trading love letters to someone in a new environment. However, romantic thoughts quickly left her as she thought it could also be a woman, instead of a man. There is nothing indicating the gender of the writer and she honestly feels a little bad for passing such a judgement so quickly. Her train of thought comes to a halt as she feels the buzzing of her phone indicating a text messsage coming through.
đ§ HJ: should i order ahead for you too?
HER: sure, youâre there already?
đ§ HJ: yeah
what do you want?
HER: something mild. not too spicy.
đ§ HJ: got it
when are you coming down?
HER: actually on my way now. see you in a bit.
đ§ HJ: đ đ
She rolls her eyes at his latest text. She puts the letter back in the book, skim a few other book titles, take them off the shelves and makes her way over to the check-out counter.
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Now, sitting and eating in the small restaurant they begin talking about why Hongjoong is late all the time, their interests outside of the classroom, and plans for the Christmas break after the project is done.
Hongjoong reaches for one of the books and questions to himself whether sheâs started taking notes already because he sees a folded sheet of paper sticking out at the top. While she is busy eating and busying herself with her phone, she doesnât notice Hongjoong going through the book. Him being as perceptive as he is, notices that itâs a small note signed by a âsecret scribeâ. Did she know this was here? He asks himself. In fact, taking a closer look at the writing, the tone feels oddly familiar and so does the handwriting. Or maybe he is just thinking too hard about this. Either way, he tucks the note back in its proper place and continues with skimming through the index and other parts of the book.
Hongjoong brings her attention to him by breaking the silence. âSince you have four books, how about I take two to read and you take two?â
âSounds good.â She responds. After making her choice of books to take, they set up a time to meet, outside of class, to get started on the project.
She makes her way back to the library, while Hongjoong walks through another part of the campus to work on his music. After making it safely to the library, she struggles to find a spot. Settling for the floor in the basement, she sets off to write a letter to the âsecret scribeâ.
âDear Secret Scribe (?),
I came upon your letter by chance for a project but for some reason I feel as if I am imposing. As if I was not supposed to read it and respond, but here I am writing to you anyway...
My writing may look odd and the sentence structure may be weird, but itâs because I am a foreign student.
The weather is not too bad so far, however, I am doing my best to stay warm. The change of seasons in South Korea is very beautiful to experience. Not only can you see it and smell it, but you can also sense it. Does that make sense? Anyway, my mid-terms are over, I only had two. Now, I am working towards finals. The final project that I am working on is for my Linguistics class. Actually, I am a Linguistics major. What are you majoring in? Also, are you a man or woman? I am a woman if you were curious.
I truly hope that you are managing to stay warm and stress free as the semester is coming towards an end.
Youâll Be In My Thoughts,
Your... Winter Student... A Winter Dream
P.S. I kind of need to take this book with me for research, but Iâll keep it here for you until we can agree on a place to drop off our letters... Only if you would like to continue this correspondence... Your Choice.â
With that, she leaves her letter in the book and goes up to the third floor and places it back on the shelf that she took it from. Her heart is racing, but she doesnât know why. He probably will not respond too quickly, she thinks to herself. âYou did your part, now let it goâ, she tells herself as she makes her way back to her apartment for study and research.
#ateez college!au#my writings: ateez college!au#park seonghwa#kim hongjoong#ateez x mc#park seonghwa x mc#kim hongjoong x mc#ateez x black female mc#ateez x black female#park seonghwa x black female#kim hongjoong x black female#park seonghwa college!au#kim hongjoong college!au
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A Sky Full of Stars || Rio & Frankie
Timing: Before all the finale nonsense Parties: @3starsquinn & @offrankies Summary:Â After watching a tired Orion study for hours, Frankie decides to give him some company and some free fries.Â
Working at Alâs had proven to be easier than sheâd expected. Sure, she still had trouble carrying trays that were filled with drinks since they weighed more than she was able to carry normally, and, sure, she still sometimes got an order mixed up and brought a salad to someone who asked for a monster burger; which meant that Frankie had to be on night shifts most of the time since there were less customers at 2am than 2pm. The night population of White Crest had turned out to be more interesting than she had expected. People with the strangest auras had walked in, and more than once she had been sure they had dropped bugs in her hair to annoy her. But, in all honesty, she didnât mind one bit since everything was potential knowledge for her supernatural guide.Â
That one particular night had been exceptionally slow. There was a small group of drunken, middle aged friends that had very loudly told her they had reunited for their twenty years anniversary of finishing college who kept asking for beer after beer and the occasional plate of chicken wings. And then, on the opposite side and in a completely opposite mood, a young guy that looked around her age. Heâd been there for over an hour, his food basically untouched. With a smile, she went behind the counter to grab an empty glass, filling it with lemonade, before walking towards him, setting the lemonade in front of him, but being careful of his books. âSooo, your fries are probably cold by now. Want me to bring you more? On the house, of course.â
The Scribe Headquarters was starting to become less feasible for a nightâs stay. Not that he had discounted it completely, but with roommates like Winston and Ricky, who actually made him feel welcome in their home, he didnât really need to resort to old mattresses inside of an abandoned building tucked away magically in the woods. More and more he found himself less thrilled at the idea of staying there overnight during a big research night. Tonight, he took a detour for food before he headed back to his house. He had grabbed whatever he could from the Scribe headquarters, any journals from Scribes that talked about demons. He needed to find something soon before the cursed eye found a permanent home on Rioâs palm. He kept a wrap around the scar on his hand where that terrifying eye may open back up at any time. For now, Darwin had it. But Rio had no idea how long that may last.Â
Usually, Rio would have devoured the food from Alâs. When the waitress had brought him the food, he had taken a few bites from the fries before finding an especially intriguing entry from a former Scribe who had travelled all over Maine performing exorcisms. It didnât end up turning into anything useful, but it was still an interesting read. He wasnât sure how long he sat at the booth, his legs tucked up under his legs and books and stray pieces of paper scattered across the table. The only empty space was occupied by the plate of forgotten food. By the time the waitress came back around again, speaking and breaking him free from his focus. He jerked his head up, somehow missing that the girl had even come up next to him. He pulled the headphones from his ear, not so much using them for music as he did to try to drown out the noises coming from the other end of the restaurant. âOh thank you so much! Iâd love that.â He took a long drink from his lemonade, downing half the glass in one go. He had been surviving mostly on Monsterâs and candy at the Scribe headquarters and could feel himself crashing. He either needed more sugar to get the rush going again or the waitress would come back soon to find him passed out on the table. âDo you serve energy drinks here?â Rio questioned, before snapping his fingers and changing his mind, âNo! Wait a milkshake. Can I get a chocolate milkshake?â He tapped his fingers against the table in a rapid motion and closed the book he was currently reading and set it away. âSorry- I know it probably looks like Iâm a crazy person right now. But uh- Iâve just been up for like 20 hours or something. So more sleep deprived than anything else.âÂ
Being nosy wasnât exactly on Frankieâs personality traits list, but it would be a lie if she didnât try to peek at what the guy was reading, curiosity getting the best of her. At first she had just assumed it was some college boy drowning before finals, but if that had been the case there wouldâve been many other late night owls trying to do last minute cramming too. But whatever it was he was reading, it didnât look like textbooks but rather just some old books. It looked pretty cool, and if her own experience with waitresses had taught her anything, is that they loved some good gossip. As he drank from his fresh lemonade - which, by the way, sheâd had to refill once more - she carefully took the fries so none would fall on the open pages in front of him. âNo problem. I need to keep the cook awake somehow.â A quick wink, before she listened once more, and she couldnât contain the soft laugh that bubbled after his sudden change of mind. âChocolate Milkshake it is. And, for future reference, we do not have energy drinks, but we have hella good coffee.âÂ
The smile decorating her face widened, her cheeks pushing her eyes and slightly narrowing them as she listened him talk at full speed. He reminded her of herself when she started ranting about whatever was on her mind with total strangers, except Frankie never knew when to stop. âNot at all. If anything, those guys are the only crazy Iâve had to deal with tonight,â Her thumb pointed over her shoulder to the only other costumers, who seemed to be banging the table now as one of the crew chugged his beer. It also helped that his aura was super dim in comparison, the soft red mixed with turquoise a nice break from the bright, glowing yellow coming from the other side of the diner. âI didnât want to interrupt you but you seemed like you needed a refill,â Since youâve been sitting there practically not moving for a while, she almost added, but lip her lip to stop herself. With her chin, she motioned to his books and papers. âWatchaâ reading?â
The waitress was friendly, and much nicer to talk to than some of the people Orion ran into at restaurants late at night around town. He didnât necessarily blame them. Most people that were out in the middle of the night tended to be drunk or shifty in their eyes. Rio just so happened to fall into that crowd. He noted the lack of energy drinks which was a bummer. He thanked her, deciding that it wasnât worth it to let her know that he didnât drink coffee. When there was a frustratingly loud noise, Rio glanced around the waitress and found the group loudly demanding another to chug by slamming their fists against the table. It was probably loud enough to normal people in the restaurant. For Rio, it was deafening. He cringed, rubbing his fingers against his ears in an attempt to drown out some of the noise. If he was less tired, he may be able to focus it out, but right now he didnât have much energy left to expend.Â
At her question, Rio glanced around at the table, a conglomerated mess scattering all corners made Rio look like some crazed lunatic. Maybe that wasnât too far off at this point. He had wasted some many hours of his day, avoided so much sleep completely devoted to researching these demons and visions. It was tiring. âYouâre not interrupting at all, I really appreciate the refill,â Rio began, trying to figure out exactly how to explain the information sprawled out across the table. Any prolonged glance would show that not everything written in the texts was English. While some was Latin, a language Rio had been fluent in since middle school, most of it was some kind of ancient language, assumed to be demonic. He had not made much progress in translating those yet. âSummer classes.â Rio finally settled on, giving a troubled grin to the waitress and shrugging, âOccult studies class. Super interesting stuff but⊠a little creepy if Iâm being honest. Right now Iâm actually trying to learn some information about a cult that apparently operated right here in White Crest.â
Noticing that the group of men were annoying him, an apologetic smile replaced Frankieâs curious one, and she raised one finger in the guyâs direction as if asking for one second, before turning around back to the counter that served as a bar. From experience, she knew that the only way to calm down drunk men was to either give them more alcohol or give them something to canalize their energy into, like a football match on tv for the to scream to, but sadly, there were nothing on tv that late at night that could please them, so more drinks it was. Frankieâs eyes kept flying from the beers she was serving to the boy sitting alone and his books. Occult studies. That was interesting, and seemingly very on-brand with the theme this town had. After a few minutes and after bringing the beers with the check to the men who started howling and tried to convince her to talk to them, Frankie walked back to the other side of the diner, standing next to the table once again.
âSorry, theyâll probably get louder but they should leave soon.â The last few words were spoken louder as she looked over her shoulder, and despite making it sound like she was annoyed with them, Frankie was actually laughing softly. She needed people like them to stay awake and not get bored during her shift, after all. âSo, summer classes, huh. You go to college here?â Looking back at the kitchen once more to make sure the cook wasnât watching, she slid on the seat in front of him. âDo you, uhm, mind if I take a look?â Her hand hovered on top of a book, and though she didnât understand a word of what it said, it still looked very interesting. Cults. The mere idea of a cult being in town made her want to laugh again, Laylaâs voice telling her that she should be careful in this town resonating in her head. âHey, creepy is the best kind of interesting. Like, have you seen the X Files?â Looking at another book, she tried to read the title out loud, very slowly to try to get the pronunciation right but completely failing. âI think I just butchered that. What language is this? I know a little bit of french and this is definitely not french.â
The waitress disappeared for a moment and Rio glanced over a few moments later to see her taking more drinks over to the group. He smirked to himself, wondering if he had been obvious that the noise had bothered him. âOh no worries at all, I appreciate the attempt. I donât have claim over the restaurant or anything.â He shrugged, acting unbothered by the noise. It really wouldnât bother him if he could get the hearing under control. Instead, certain instances or specific noises would catch him off guard. âI do! Majoring in history and computer science.â The waitress slid into the seat across from Rio and showed an increased interest in what he had been studying. He tried to take a quick assessment of her, to try to figure out exactly why she seemed so fascinated by the topics that Rio was reading. A fellow avid learner, maybe? Someone interested in the supernatural? Or someone that already knew about the supernatural and was trying to gauge how much Rio knew. Rio couldnât be sure, not yet at least.Â
When she asked to take a look, Rio just nodded. âThe X-Files terrified me. I was always fascinated by the stuff I read about it online but whenever I tried watching it Iâd have nightmares for a week.â She read a piece aloud from a text, the pronunciation being off but the words not completely unintelligible. Some of the text that Rio found seemed to be some older type of demonic language translated by humans. It wasnât easy to explain considering Rio wasnât able to translate it himself and there was no easy way to explain that it was a completely unknown language. Rio laughed softly, âDefinitely not French.â Rio spoke in French, a simple translation. He leaned over to take a look at the book that the waitress was looking at. âHard to tell honestly.â He tapped his finger against his chin, trying to figure out exactly how to explain it to her without sounding completely insane. âI can see some hints of Latin in it. But most of it is just⊠nothing. If I had to guess, it was the attempt by some cult at creating their own mix of language to communicate with demons or spirits.â That was not Rioâs guess at all, but it certainly seemed more likely than being the actual language of a demon. âIâm uh- Iâm Orion by the way. Or Rio. I go by whichever. Itâs nice to meet you!â
Frankieâs hand made a vague gesture, as if telling him it was nothing. âItâs cool, serving drinks and food is only part of the job, I need to make sure all the clients are comfortable.â It had been, probably, the only thing she had been good at so far. Her eyes tried to pick up anything from all the words spread in front of her, but failed miserably. âWow, double majoring? You must be a huge nerd.â As soon as the words left her mouth, Frankie had a hand flying to cover her mouth, eyes wide and her cheeks quickly flushing into a bright red. âIâm--- Sorry I didnât mean that as an--- That was a compliment, actually---â Her words stumbled with each other, and she couldnât find a way to apologize fast enough. The floor of the diner needed to hurry and swallow her already before she started blurting anymore embarrassing stuff to a guy she had just met. His aura didnât seem to flicker at all, though, which could only mean he hadnât been bothered by it. It helped her relax a little, and she took another piece of paper between her hands, trying to make some sense of it.Â
âThatâs, uhm, so wild. When I moved in the last thing I expected to run into was a demonic cult. There was this girl back in Nashville that disappeared for like, a couple of weeks, everyone thought she had been kidnapped or had run away but turns out she had joined a satanic cult or something like that. I never understood it, honestly.â Eventually, she let go of the piece of paper, a silent acceptance that no matter how hard she tried, she wouldnât spontaneously learn neither Latin or⊠whatever nonsense the cultists had invented. âOh, right. Iâm, uh--â And like a kid proud of a toy, she looked down to her name tag, and then looked back at him, a grin on her face as she pointed at it. âFrankie. Nice to meet you too, Rio.â And because she didnât know when to shut up, she added. âHave you tried searching for the Orion constellation?â
Orion paused at being called a nerd. Not because the word had offended him, but because her response had stunned him. She had been so embarrassed that Rio had just stared at her for a long moment while she stumbled through explaining herself. Finally, Rio burst into laughter. It was louder than his usual laughter was, a sort of uncontrolled and hysteric chuckling that Rio did not usually allow himself. He could only blame it on the lack of sleep. âYou donât have to apologize for anything,â Rio finally spoke, wiping the tears from his eyes that had escaped during the laughter. âI do take that as a compliment. Plus, Iâve heard enough people say stuff like that intending for it to be taken as an insult that eventually you start figuring out when someone means something in a good or bad way.â That was too much information that this girl, Frankie, did not need to know. âOh. Yikes. Thatâs scary, I hope she uh- got out of that cult.â Sounded dangerous. Rio had read enough about cults to know how they recruited people, but he couldnât imagine himself ever being trusting enough to ever join one. Especially one like that. âSo youâre not from around here, apparently? New to town?â It begged the question, why? Why are you here? Why anyone would come to this town would always baffle Rio. âOh yeah. Itâs usually pretty easy to pick out. And Iâve studied a lot of Greek Mythology so itâs cool to tie that in with the name of the constellations.â
Rioâs laugh made Frankieâs embarrassment even worse, her face lowkey burning. Well, at least he took the joke well, and the teen definitely could relate. She was lucky not to get bullied back in school partly because of the cheer squad and because of Layla, but most of her friends were absolutely trashed, and nerd was definitely on the list of worst things someone could be called. âWell, youâre the coolest nerd Iâve met so far, so those who tried to insult you can go suck on a lemon. And she was fine after a while. I mean, she had to do her freshman year again but that was better than the⊠possibility, I guess.â Whatever that was. All she knew about cults was the little glimpses she had gotten from the very occasional and rare case she could see in the news, and stuff she had seen in tv shows. Not that she wanted to know more, really, her life had already turned confusing enough and adding cults would just make things worse. Leaning forward in the table, the teen rested her elbows and used one hand to support her face, eyes still looking at the scattered paper and open books. âYeah, I moved in from Nashville a few weeks ago to, uh, be with my girlfriend.â Understatement of the year, but there was no other way to say she had tracked down her werewolf girlfriend after she vanished for a whole year without sounding like a complete lunatic. A humm left her lips, hazel eyes now fixated on the guy. âI always thoughts most constellations were related to the zodiac, you know, since many of them are⊠well, zodiac signs. I donât really know much about them. I just liked stargazing when I was a kid and my grandma showed me a few.âÂ
âYou need to meet more nerds than.â Orion laughed again. In what alternate hell dimension would Rio ever be considered a cool nerd? There were others that deserved that title way more than himself. Winston, Blanche, Skylar. All three were way cool humans that also happened to be super smart. Rio was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that someone around Rioâs age would willingly move to White Crest when she mentioned the girlfriend. It made his face begin blushing and an awkward smile broke out across his face. âSounds romantic.â Rio said, unsure if that was the right thing to say or not. Rio wasnât exactly a guru on relationships. He had never even been in one before. âSo you came here with no one else? Just your girlfriend?â Rio asked, before letting out a low whistle, âWoah. Thatâs⊠crazy brave.â Rio couldn't imagine how much courage that must take. âThereâs this guy I know. I grew up with him sort of. I never really knew what having a crush meant growing up but looking back I⊠well it checked all the boxes. I still avoid him. On the college campus.â Rio facepalmed himself in embarrassment. He couldnât believe he just said that. To a stranger. âAre you uh- Adjusting to town well?â
Astronomy had never been Rioâs passion or his forte, neither was stargazing. But he knew enough about greek mythology to have dipped his toes in astronomy. âYou're right! A lot of them are related to the zodiac. The zodiac signs actually come from Greek mythology. In fact, zodiac comes from the Greek word zĆdiacus which roughly means the cycle of animals.â Frankie had unknowingly opened a can of worms that Rio wasnât sure he could close back up. âAll of the zodiac signs correspond to living creatures. Well except Libra, which is ironically my sign. But anyways, each of the constellations usually relate back to some story from Greek or Roman mythology. Like Leo is tied to Hercules and his laborâs. Hercules skinned a lion and wore itâs pelt, making him practically invincible. Or ScorpioScorpio, who actually has ties to Orion. Thereâs been a lot of different stories about Orion the hunter. Some say he was put up into the sky by the Goddess Artemis who loved him, others say that he was put up there as punishment for being too boastful. With scorpio eternalized for killing him.â Once Rio finally shut up he realized how dry his mouth had become. This wasnât an uncommon problem when Rio got on one of his soap boxes. He took a drink from the lemonade that Frankie had brought him and scratched at his neck nervously, âSorry I uh- get passionate.â
Well, he wasnât wrong. Frankie definitely needed to meet more friends, whether they were nerds or not. Letting out a soft humm, she tapped her lips for a moment as she thought out loud. âI wouldnât say we came together? I came to this town because she was here.â Brave was definitely one way to describe it. Frankie would always believe it had been her only choice and the right thing to do, whilst her mom kept repeating on the phone that it had been the dumbest and childish idea she ever had. Shrugging, she rested her cheek on her palm once more, listening to his story, letting out a laugh when he covered his face. âThat sounds too far from how I realized I liked liked Layla- thatâs my girlfriend. We were best friends for ages, and one day we were watching Buffy and she said something that made me look, I donât remember what honestly, but I just, I kept looking at her instead of the tv and just⊠kinda knew, yanno?â There were few things Frankie could go on about for hours: math, the meaning behind colors, and how she would follow Layla to hell if she asked her to. Though from recent events maybe she had done that already.Â
Pursing her lips, she looked at the ceiling as if thinking, before looking back at him with a shrug. âTownâs alright. Definitely not Nashville, but I never was a big city girl anyways.â Meaning, she liked the quietness and the considerable lower number of people on the streets that potentially gave her anxiety attacks. The human listened in silence as Rio rambled, a wide smile creeping in the longer he spoke. In another life where she werenât a raging lesbian, and in different circumstances that involved not noticing the flaming aura that got more intense as he spoke, she wouldâve even found him cute. âDonât you dare apologize, Orion, trapped by Artemis.â Though she hated feeling like she was taking up his study time, he also looked like he desperately needed a break. After winking at him, she stretched slightly and moved out of the booth, standing in front of him once more. âI will go get you that chocolate milkshake, and maybe you can tell me Sagittariusâ story in return?â
Orion listened intently to the story, fascinated by how this girl had the courage to just pick up her life and move somewhere completely new all to be with her girlfriend. Rio wasnât sure he would have the courage to do that if he was married to the person moving. But Frankie was fearless, clearly. And Rio could learn a thing or two about taking chances, if his own personal life was any indication. Plus- Wait did she just say Layla? âHold on- Layla? This may be too much of a coincidence⊠but like Layla, redhead, born to play Cherry Valance in a remake of The Outsiders, Layla? I know her. Really well actually sheâs a friend of mine.â Woah. Rio had heard about a girlfriend, but had no idea that the girlfriend had shown up to town. Admittedly the two hadnât talked a lot recently. Just with how busy things were with the demons stuff, Rio had turned pretty anti-social.Â
âOh good. Well Iâm glad youâre not annoyed. I tend to drag on like that a lot so please feel free to cut me off.â He had to admit, it was really nice getting to have a conversation with someone about something other than this demon stuff. He had spent so much time with Winston lately, which was amazing as always because he thought that Winston was the coolest person in the entire world, but with Frankie they didnât talk about the demons or bodies of water at all. It was just a normal conversation, with a nice person. It was a nice change of pace. âRight well, Thanks for grabbing me the milkshake! And please feel free to hang out. It looks pretty boring in here right now. I canât tell if youâre joking or not but I can totally tell you about Sagittarius . Spoiler alert, heâs a Centaur.
Hearing him describe her girlfriend made Frankie perk up, eyebrows raising in surprise. âYep, that sounds like her alright. They say itâs a small world but damn, this town is smaller than I thought.â Coincidences like these never happened back home; and she guessed it was highly likely that Rio knew every other teen or anyone in their early twenties she had met so far. The thought made her smile, and she shoved both hands inside her uniformâs pockets. âMaybe we can do like a double date thingy if you ever decide to stop avoiding your college mate.â Was it alright to joke with something like that? She had never been too good at social situations despite her extroverted nature thanks to her anxiety.
âOh God no, I love hearing people. I suck at talking so I love when I can just sit back and listen. Besides thatâs super interesting and cool. If anything Iâm sorry Iâm distracting you from your, uh-â She gestured at the table in general. â-- cult investigation.â Maybe if he didnât mind, she could even ask him about college, considering this was for a summer class. And maybe, if she was lucky, she could get to know him enough to investigate why his aura didnât seem to flicker away from the red. He didnât seem like a bad person in the slightest, which only made her wonder deeper why her grandma had warned her so much about them. âNot joking at all. Iâm looking forward to meet this centaur boy.â And before leaving, she pointed at the food and said. âEat your fries before I do!â
#3starsquinn#p: rio#âȘ â
â ââ â para â â«#wickedswriting#A Sky Full of Stars#// aka ty sunny for the title#// take some wholesome
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To Free Doctors From Computers, Far-Flung Scribes Are Now Taking Notes For Them
Podiatrist Dr. Mark Lewis greets his first patient of the morning in his suburban Seattle exam room and points to a tiny video camera mounted on the right rim of his glasses. âThis is my scribe, Jacqueline,â he says. âShe can see us and hear us.â
Jacqueline is watching the appointment on her computer screen after the sun has set, 8,000 miles away in Mysore, a southern Indian city known for its palaces and jasmine flowers. She copiously documents the details of each visit and enters them into the patientâs electronic health record, or EHR.
Jacqueline (her real first name, according to her employer), works for San Francisco-based Augmedix, a startup with 1,000 medical scribes in South Asia and the U.S. The company is part of a growing industry that profits from a confluence of health care trends â including, now, the pandemic â that are dispersing patient care around the globe.
Medical scribes first appeared in the 1970s as note takers for emergency room physicians. But the practice took off after 2009, when the federal HITECH Act incentivized health care providers to adopt EHRs. These were supposed to simplify patient record-keeping, but instead they generated a need for scribes. Doctors find entering notes and data into poorly designed EHR software cumbersome and time-consuming. So scribing is a fast-growing field in the U.S., with the workforce expanding from 15,000 in 2015 to an estimated 100,000 this year.
A 2016 study found that doctors spent 37% of a patient visit on a computer and an average of two extra hours after work on EHR tasks. EHR use contributes to physician burnout, increasingly considered a public health crisis in itself.
Before COVID-19, most scribes â typically young, aspiring health professionals â worked in the exam room a few paces away from the doctor and patient. This year, as the pandemic led patients to shun clinics and hospitals, many scribes were laid off or furloughed. Many have returned, but scribes are increasingly working online â even from the other side of the world.
Remote scribes are patched into the exam roomâs sound via a tablet or speaker, or through a video connection. Some create doctorsâ notes in real time; others annotate after visits. And some have help from speech-recognition software programs that grow more accurate with use.
While many remote scribes are based in the United States, others are abroad, primarily in India. Chanchal Toor was a dental school graduate facing limited job opportunities in India when a subcontractor to Augmedix hired her in 2015. Some of her scribe colleagues also trained or aspired to become dentists or other health professionals, she said. Now a manager for Augmedix in San Francisco, Toor said scribing, even remotely, made her feel like part of a health care team.
Augmedix recruits people who have a bachelorâs degree or the equivalent, and screens for proficiency in English reading, listening comprehension and writing, the company said. Once on board, scribes undergo about three months of training. The curriculum includes medical terminology, anatomy, physiology and mock visits.
Revenue has grown this year, and his sales team has grown from four to 14 members, Augmedix CEO Manny Krakaris said. Sachin Gupta, CEO of IKS Health, which employs Indian doctors as remote scribes for their U.S. counterparts, projects 50% revenue growth this year for its scribing business. He said the company employs 4,000 people but declined to share how many are scribes.
Remote scribe âEdwinâ gives internist Dr. Susan Fesmire more time, freeing her from having to finish 20 charts at the end of every day. âIt was like constantly having homework that you donât finish,â she said. With the help of âEdwinâ â Fesmire said he declines to use his real name â she had the time and energy to become chief operating officer of her small Dallas practice. Edwin works for Physicians Angels, which employs 500 remote scribes in India. Fesmire pays $14 an hour for his services.
Doctors with foreign scribes say notes may need minor editing for dialectal differences and scribes may be unfamiliar with local vocabulary. âI had a patient from Louisiana,â said Fesmire, âand Edwin said afterward, âWhat is chicory, doctor?ââ But she also praised his notes as more accurate and complete than her own.
Kevin Brady, president of Physicians Angels, said their scribes start at $500 to $600 per month, plus health care and retirement benefits, while senior scribes make $1,000 to $1,500 â middle-class family incomes in India. Employers are required to provide employees with health insurance, although many scribes are contractors, and the job site Indeed.com says the average salary for a scribe in India is $500 a month. Scribes in the U.S. get about $2,500.
Remote scribing is still a small part of the market. Craig Newman, chief strategy officer of HealthChannels, parent to ScribeAmerica, the largest scribing company in the U.S., said that the firmâs remote scribing business has increased threefold since the pandemicâs outset but that âa large majorityâ of the companyâs 26,000 U.S. scribes still work in person.
Itâs a highly unregulated industry for which training and certification arenât required. The service typically costs physicians $12 to $25 an hour, and studies show scribe use is linked to less time on patient documentation, higher job satisfaction and seeing more patients â which can mean more revenue.
For patients, studies suggest scribes have a positive or neutral effect on satisfaction. Some have privacy concerns, though, and state laws vary on whether a patient must be notified that someone is watching and listening many miles away.
Only 1% of patients refuse a remote scribe when asked by physicians at Massachusetts General Physicians Organization, said Dr. David Ting, the practiceâs chief medical information officer. His group, an IKS Health client, always seeks patient consent, Ting said.
Scribes arenât for everyone, though. Janis Ulevich, a retiree in Palo Alto, California, declines her primary care doctorâs remote scribe. âConversations with your doctor can be intimate,â said Ulevich. âI donât like other people listening in.â
Some patients may not have the opportunity to decline. With limited exceptions, federal laws like HIPAA, the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996, donât require doctors to seek a patientâs consent before sharing their health information with a company that supports the practiceâs work (like a scribe firm), as long as that company signed a contract agreeing to protect the patientâs data, said Chris Apgar, a former HIPAA compliance officer.
About one-quarter of U.S. states require all parties in a conversation to agree to be recorded, meaning they require a patientâs permission. Some states also have special privacy protections for certain groups, like people with HIV/AIDS, or very strict informed-consent or privacy laws, said Matt Fisher, a partner at Massachusetts law firm Mirick OâConnell.
Remote scribing also raises cybersecurity concerns. Reported data breaches are rare, but some scribe companies have lax security, said Cliff Baker, CEO of the health care cybersecurity firm Corl Technologies.
The next step in the trend could be no human scribes at all. Tech giants like Google, EHR companies and venture-backed startups are developing or already marketing artificial intelligence tools aimed at reducing or eliminating the need for humans to document visits.
AI and scribes wonât eliminate physician burnout that stems from the nature of the health care system, said Dr. Rebekah Gardner, an associate professor of medicine at Brown University who researches the issue. Neither can take on burnout-driving EHR tasks like submitting requests for insurance company approval of procedures, drugs and tests, she said.
This KHN story first published on California Healthline, a service of the California Health Care Foundation.
Kaiser Health News (KHN) is a national health policy news service. It is an editorially independent program of the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation which is not affiliated with Kaiser Permanente.
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