#but it was interesting! I like learning about it! several inventive things happening in fields of art and science at least

[canisalbus]

I just wanna say that your gay dogs have singlehandedly rekindled my obsession with the Renaissance, help

.

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

~Child Of The Storm~

Nikolai Lantsov x OC

Image by - @brokendreamtale2

Warnings- none

A/N- Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist- @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @sirisuorionblack @nadeleine123n @marauders-wife

Ch-39 ~New ideas~

Anaya was heading out of the war room after a meeting when she heard a low voice from behind, "Umm...Anaya?" she was surprised to see David standing near her with his shoulders hunched as she turned behind

"Yes, David?" 

"Umm.. I was wondering if you'd be willing to assist me in a new invention. You know, since you've some practice with that?" he asked hesitantly

He was right. She had in fact, had some experience in the Materialki field as she'd learned more about their work and such from her mother than she had at school. At one point, she'd attained an interest for such and had attempted to make a miniature nuclear reactor but had resulted in setting it on fire and had to put it out all by herself. She never told anyone that.

But she had assisted David in some of his projects back when they'd still been at school.

"Yeah, I can try" she agreed. Maybe getting back into all this would be a good distraction from the apprehensiveness looming in her head.

She followed David to the Etherealki workshop. She saw several Fabrikators hunched over their tables, too deeply indulged in their work to notice her.

David went to his table and gestured at the sketch of an object appearing as a half sphere. "This, is a reflective bowl. Alina mentioned that her powers seem to be the only thing that draws the nichevo'ya away. So I was thinking of a way to make something that can sort of, magnify her powers and reflect them" he explained

"So like, a reflective lens but better?" Anaya asked, observing the drawings

"Yes, I just need help with the design finding the right angles they should be adjusted at. Maybe you can help?"

"Yeah" she finally nodded after contemplating for a moment

                                       ..............................................................................................

They began working on the bowls and Anaya helped David with the equations until Alina showed up.

The girl seemed to be surprised to see Anaya at the Materialki workshop, though it was unusual for a Summoner to be there.

"Anaya, what are you doing here?" she asked with a slight smile

"Oh, just attempting to help out David with something he's working on"

“What are you working on?” Alina asked, her attention turning towards David

He blinked. “Dishes.”

“Ah.”

“Reflective bowls,” he said. “Based on a parabola.”

“How ... interesting?” Alina managed.

 “It might be a way to magnify your power.”

“Like the mirrors in my gloves?” 

“Sort of,” said David. “If I get it right, it will be a much bigger way to use the Cut.”

“And if you get it wrong?”

“Either nothing will happen, or whoever’s operating it will be blown to bits.”

"Wait, you left out that part for me" Anaya looked at him with immense shock

"Well, don't worry, the chances are not high, atleast I believe so"

“Sounds promising.” Alina spoke, ignoring Anaya"s terrified expression

“I thought so too,” he said without a hint of humor, and bent back to his work.

“David,” Allina spoke. He looked up, startled, as if he’d completely forgotten she was there. “I need to ask you something.”

Anaya noticed his gaze darting to Alina's collar but he went back to work again

“What can you tell me about Ilya Morozova?”

David twitched, glancing around the nearly empty room. Most of the Fabrikators were still at dinner. He was clearly nervous, maybe even frightened.

He looked at the table, picked up his compass, put it down.

Finally, he whispered, “They called him the Bonesmith.”

Anaya's attention moved from her equations to the conversation at David's words

 “Why? because of the amplifiers he discovered?” Alina asked

David looked up, surprised. “He didn’t find them. He made them.”

 “Merzost? How?” she asked.

“No one knows,” David said, glancing over his shoulder again. “After the Black Heretic was killed in the accident that created the Fold, his son came out of hiding to take control of the Second Army. He had all of Morozova’s journals destroyed.”

“Why was his son in hiding?”  

 “A Darkling and his heir never live at the Little Palace at the same time. The risk of assassination is too great.”

The particular reason for this never seemed quite plausible to Anaya, yet she chose to believe it like the rest of them.

“I see. Why would he have had the journals destroyed?” Alina asked

“They documented Morozova’s experiments with amplifiers. The Black Heretic was trying to re-create those experiments when something went wrong.”

“And the result was the Fold.” she realized

David nodded. “His son had all of Morozova’s journals and papers burned. He said they were too dangerous, too much of a temptation to any Grisha. That’s why I didn’t say anything at the meeting. I shouldn’t even know they ever existed.”

“So how do you?”

David looked around the almost empty workshop again.

“Morozova was a Fabrikator, maybe the first, certainly the most powerful. He did things that no one’s ever dreamed of before or since. To us, he’s kind of a hero.”He gave a sheepish shrug.

“Do you know anything else about the amplifiers he created?”

David shook his head. “There were rumors of others, but the stag was the only one I’d ever heard of.”

“David, why are you here? You fashioned the collar. You must have known what he intended.” Alina asked after a short pause

He swallowed. “I knew he would be able to control you, that the collar would allow him to use your power. But I never thought, I never believed ... all those people...” He struggled to find the words. Finally, he held out his ink- stained hands and said, almost pleadingly. “I make things. I don’t destroy them.”

David had been the one to secure Alina's collar, he surely felt immensely guilty for that.

“Good luck with the dishes,” Alina spoke as she rose to leave

David hunched over his papers. “I don’t believe in luck.”

                                   .............................................................................................................

Anaya was usually working in the Materialki workshops with David and Paja when she wasn't at any meetings, but she'd seemed to grow fond of the confined space and silence. She had begun to enjoy her work. She would sometimes chat with Paja whether about their work, or anything in general. The girl reminded her of her mother. Her brown Suli skin, her dark hair and eyes, and her purple kefta. Even though her mother was a Durast, the resemblance was striking. Just like her mother, she always seemed to remain hopeful and enthusiastic about her work.

[alexthepleb]

My Long-Distance Relationship with an Alien - A Sci-fi Love Story - Chapter One

I'll never forget the day I learned the sad truth that I'd (probably) never travel among the stars. I was fifteen, the year was 2017, and I was learning about physics in High School. My teacher, a sometimes blunt yet good-natured woman named Mrs. Haddix, taught us about the speed of light. She explained that nothing could go faster than the speed of light and that this was constant throughout the Universe.

Now, I'm a pretty smart guy. I'd already learned that most other stars were massive distances from our own. An obvious dilemma hit me like a punch to the spleen. I raised my hand.

"Yes, Leon?" asked my teacher.

I replied, "Mrs. Haddix, does this mean that interstellar travel isn't possible? I mean...was Star Trek just a lie all along?"

Trying (and almost succeeding) to let me down easily, my teacher explained to me that I was right. Short of some future exotic physics or technology, we would never soar through the stars like in all the stories I loved.

I was heartbroken.

After weeks upon weeks of melodramatic weeping (really!) I finally had an idea. Maybe I would never be able to travel to another planet physically. But I might be able to see one!

I spent the next few years working harder than ever before. I got good grades in High-School and then in College. I became an engineer and began working in space-related industries. I'll save you the dull tedium of the business side of things. By the time I turned twenty-five, the year was 2027, and a space telescope I myself invented was launched into space.

We began exploring various earth-like exoplanets. It was another fifteen years before I finally found what I'd hoped for. Using the most sophisticated telescope ever designed, we found a planet with an advanced civilization. Indeed, from the very beginning, we realized we had hit the jackpot.

The planet I discovered, which I named the Leo-6969, was populated by a race of technologically advanced birdlike beings.

My joy was only compounded when I realized I wasn't just looking for them, they were looking for me as well!

Apparently, they had been watching us long before we were watching them. As a matter of fact, they were ahead of us by several hundred years. That didn't make them any less excited to finally make contact.

Watching from their home planet, they already understood a lot about Earth's history and culture. They even had a rudimentary understanding of English. My telescope caught broken English phrases they had written in huge fields on their planet.

The first words I found were, "Greetings to the Earth and Her Human Creatures. We Hello you with great joy!"

It was such a profound wonder for me. I wept. Maybe I'd never travel among the stars. But I now knew that Aliens were still waiting for us the whole time.

Still, I would never have expected what would happen next. Among the sapient beings who lived on Leon-6969, one was looking back at me with more than intellectual interest. Someone on the planet saw me as a kindred spirit, someone they might even love. I had no idea that just a few years down the line, I'd begin the most incredible long-distance romance of all time...

[caw4brandon]

Regarding Jayce Talis

2021 surprised the League community and League Cinematic community with the release of the Netflix series < Arcane > as it was demanded by the fanbase but one of the most interesting things that they do aside from creating the vibrant city of Piltover and Zaun is their characters.

There are countless amounts of video essays and posts about the psychology of Powder/Jinx, the relationships between certain characters and about the world itself but today, I want to focus on Arcane’s own Iron Man Figure.

Spoilers ahead for < Arcane > You have been warned!

- Jayce Talis of Piltover -

Jayce comes from family line of notable tool makers and was renown in Piltover for their invention of the collapsible pocket wrench. As mentioned in one of his quotes;

“My father put hammers in the hands of the people, and they build this magnificent city.”

When he was a child, Jayce and his mother; [Ximena] got caught in a terrible blizzard. On the brink of death, a hooded mage happened to pass by and casted a teleportation spell. Bringing them to the safety of a warm flowery field. Upon receiving consciousness, the mage gifted Jayce the used up crystal as a momento for that very day.

Since then, Jayce became obsessed with uncovering and harnessing the power of magic. He made it his life long mission to discover the ways of the arcane by using certain crystals which he believes could hold the powers he once saw.

Jayce is also close with his partner, [Viktor] who assisted him with his quest to uncovering the potential of his research which they eventually coined the name of their invention; [Hextech] Jayce is also sponsored by the Kiramman Clan and became close with the family’s leader; [Caitlyn Kiramman] and considers her as his own sister.

Jayce is both studious and capable with his own hands. He is seen in the forge, hammering away through burnt metal to relief stress. This suggests that, when situations get bad. Jayce is not afraid to become a solider himself to get the job done. With his weapon of choice, a giant hammer in hand to defend the future.

Personality and appearance wise, Jayce is a very handsome and charismatic man at parties. He sees a bright future with his technology that would lift the burdens of Piltover’s yesteryears and become the city of the great progress. 

Put simply, Jayce is a futurist. Always looking forward by glancing into the secrets of the past. With his contribution, Jayce was seen by Piltover as a their beloved wonder boy which also attracted various leaders for political gain. Jayce has also attracted several lovers but the one whom he was serious with is a fellow council member; [Mel Medarda]

Despite this, Jayce is only human. Like how all future thinkers are, time is against him which makes Jayce more eager to make his dream a reality even more in his lifetime rather than after. But like all dreams, when he realized that his vision could result in bloodshed, Jayce reached a complexion and took it upon himself to be its safeguard.

The moment when Jayce learned about the true weight of his power was during his first raid against [Silco], where he accidently killed a child from Zaun with his hammer’s bolt cannon. It taught him that his power is far too dangerous even in his own hands. 

Jayce recognizes that war is never the solution to bringing Piltover forward and this realization also made him consider a more diplomatic approach to talk to Silco and come to an agreement to ensure peace between sides. This was however, rendered moot.

When we talk about futurist characters, this is often times the complication with them. There is an imbalance of want but the slug of time and the unintended dangers which would cause them to turn and become paranoid.

What Jayce has become over the season, is a complicated thinker who is pulled from his dreams into the reality that perhaps, may not be as bright as one may think. Overtime, Jayce learns to try different approaches to his goal but will it be successful? That’s up to season 2 to decide. Regardless, this is the lesson from Jayce. Our dreams are a lot harder to be made into reality but what matters is that one must be willing to act and get it done.

With that said, Happy 2022! Its been a long while I did a “Regarding” post but here’s one more. There will be more writings in the future so keep your eyes peeled! Until next time.

Thanks for reading

- Caw4B -

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 2

 -you dislike frank dillane’s portrayal of tom riddle only because you don’t think he’s attractive-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION (and this time, featuring a bit of armchair child psych from a student).

Wait, don’t clutch your pearls just yet. Compose yourself.

I am about to explain why it’s not actually that bad, and Dillane’s portrayal is vastly underappreciated.

I definitely agree that his portrayal comes off as ‘creepier’. It’s not helped by the stylistic decisions in the scene -- the smeary, green filter gives the scene a sinister quality. 

Even Slughorn looks suspect here, which is somewhat appropriate, given that he is complicit in this crime. 

Again, this scene is very much intended to be slightly off.

You’ll notice (and I’ll discuss this again when I talk about Coulson’s portrayal) that Dillane is almost always shot from at least slightly below, which makes the lower third of his face look bigger (and thus more menacing). The lighting also makes his eyes glow in a really unnatural way. There’s an echo-y effect to make his voice (and not Slughorn’s) sound unnerving.

People talk about how Coulson would have looked in this scene, and if he was filmed in the same way (monotone, smeary/shadowy filter, and always from below), he’d look a bit creepy, too.

But all of this, imo, is for a pretty good reason. Slughorn isn’t the POV character. Harry is. Harry is learning about how a young Lord Voldemort wheedled the secret of Horcruxes out of an unsuspecting teacher. Unlike in COS, he expects Riddle to be evil. And, so, Harry’s new perception of Tom Riddle literally colors how we perceive him.

Take this shot, for example: he does that head-tilt thing that Coulson does, and it’s actually... kind of... cute???

Imagine Dillane filmed from slightly above, like Coulson usually is, and it looks even more innocent. (I mean, come on, he does not look like he’s killed four people, does he?) It’s not hard to imagine teachers being taken in by this kind of act.

Even that little smirk he does when the camera (aka, Harry’s gaze) pans in, is for Harry’s benefit. No one else noticed that. 

However, I still fail to find this creepy, like, at all. Yes, it’s a fake smile, but he’s portraying a different side of Tom Riddle to Coulson. Whereas, in COS, he’s in his vindictive, murderous element, where he’s free to express himself, in this scene, Tom Riddle is doing what he does best -- manipulating and managing appearances. 

This entire scene is an act. And because Harry knows it’s an act, it should look a bit stilted. 

From the Hepzibah Smith scene in the books: Voldemort smiled mechanically and Hepzibah simpered.

So, Harry is pretty adept at parsing Tom’s fake expressions.

But just look at the expressiveness in his face: he goes from brooding, he blinks, and his entire face changes to this charming (fake) smile. 

At the risk of sounding elitist, I’m a bit tired of seeing the word ‘psychopath’, which is not an actual medical diagnosis recognised by any psychological or psychiatric institution, being tossed about, especially with reference to Tom Riddle (and from a neuroscience perspective, it’s doubly annoying). There’s no such thing as ‘insanity’ or ‘psychopathy’ or being ‘crazy.’

-although I use it too a shorthand in conversation to distinguish ‘canon’ Tom from his ‘softer’ OOC counterparts, I really shouldn’t-

Unfortunately, I’ve seen the ‘psychopath’ comment used time-and-time again as an excuse or a full explanation of ‘why Tom Riddle went evil’ (JKR in fact, has made a weird comment in an interview, basically saying that ‘psychopaths can’t be redeemed or learn adaptive coping skills’ or whatever), which really just goes to show the lack of understanding and compassion when personality disorders, especially, are concerned.

But what I like most about the opening of this scene, actually, is that first, listless expression. And this is where we get slightly into headcanon, but Tom Riddle is the opposite of a happy, mentally healthy teenager. By Dumbledore’s own admission, he has no real friends. He has no parental figures, no real attachments. Yes, he might derive some pride or enjoyment from being good at magic and top of his class and all that, but I really don’t think even Tom finds that truly fulfilling. There is nothing that makes him happy. 

In fact, although some might perceive it as ‘creepy’, I think that listless expression is an accurate window into Tom’s psyche. 

I know people aren’t big on Freud, but I think that he does make some interesting points (also, cut the guy some slack for being relatively open-minded for the Victorian Era, and inventing psychoanalysis and while yes he did say some sexist stuff, good luck finding a field of science that isn’t male-focused and makes crazy generalizations about women, especially back in the day) about the possible origins of thanatophobia, the fear of death.

According to Freud, thanatophobia is a disguise for a deeper source of concern -- he did not believe that people were capable of conceptualizing their own death to that extent. Instead, he believed that this phobia was caused by unresolved childhood conflicts that the sufferer cannot come to terms with or express emotion towards.

Now, I know Freud almost always attributes mental distress to childhood experiences, but I think in this case, it really has some merit.

According to attachment theory, the basis of how we form attachments in adulthood is dictated by learning it from experiences with caregivers in the first two years of life. We know Tom was born in an orphanage, and that he didn’t cry much as a baby, and subsequently, probably received very little attention. Compounded with possible genetic factors and his caregivers being afraid or wary of his magical abilities, he later struggled to form attachments because of this -- I would actually go so far as to say that by the time Dumbledore meets him, Tom Riddle is severely depressed. 

And that flat affect and anhedonia, I think, comes over very well in Dillane’s portrayal. There’s kind of this resignation -- a very deep sadness and loneliness to his character.

Of course, he doesn’t derive any comfort or fulfillment from human interaction, because (to borrow the description from the Wikipedia article on ‘Reactive attachment disorder’, which Tom meets all the criteria for) he has a “grossly disturbed internal working model of relationships.” In other words, he is unresponsive to all offers of attachment because of this unacknowledged trauma.

(You could arguably class Tom as having an avoidant attachment style, but I think in his case the trauma and its effect on him are severe enough to call it disordered.)

RAD isn’t particularly well-characterized (especially neurologically) and quite new in the literature, but here are some links if anyone is interested in doing a bit of digging: Link 1 | Link 2 | Paper 1 | Paper 2

And, instead of trying to resolve this conflict in a healthy way, or at least recognize that this is why he can’t be happy and try to learn how to cope from there, he (a) represses the desire for human attachment and (b) funnels that negative emotion into being the fault of Death, the Grim Reaper (again, to borrow Freudian terms). 

And we all know how that turned out...

(And now, this should go without saying, but psychoanalyzing fictional characters has nothing to do with assigning a morality to mental disorders. Mental illness is neither a cause nor an excuse for criminal behavior -- in the same way that the cycle of violence is a phenomenon, not an excuse. Tom Riddle did not become a genocidal murderer because, in common parlance, he was a ‘psychopath’ -- he was not necessarily ‘predisposed’ to evil and could just as easily chosen to not follow the path that he did -- instead, he willingly made poor choices. This is a descriptive analysis, not a justification -- a ‘how’, not a ‘why’)

Here’s a Carl Jung quote that articulates it better:

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

Yes, he’s a bit stiff (and a lot more formal than in COS during his *conversation* with Harry). But, and here comes the controversial bit, this is appropriate for a portrayal of a schoolboy in the 1940s. The upright posture is accurate -- respectful, polite -- everything Tom Riddle would have been expected to be (and even Coulson, in that scene with Dumbledore in COS, is quite stiff). Even the way he looks at Slughorn and maintains eye contact is very *respectful.*

And, Dillane (I think he’s seventeen or eighteen here) actually looks like a believable sixteen-year-old. I’m sorry, I love Coulson’s portrayal as well, but he looks around nineteen in COS; so in HBP, he probably would have looked at least twenty-two or so. (Sorry, not sorry).

This may be influenced by my own interpretation of the character (because I imagine Tom always looks young for his age, and Dillane fits that archetype, but I don’t think that’s very popular), but I think young Tom Riddle is supposed to be *cute* and a bit stiff/shy/awkward (being charming and awkward is very much possible), if you consider the way Dippet and Slughorn treat him. 

To support this, he says very few words to Hepzibah Smith (in the book, that scene’s not in the movie), and is very... bashful and coy during the whole interaction? I think yes, he’s charismatic, but he’s not loud, suave, openly flirtatious or particularly verbose. Tom Riddle should have a quiet magnetism, and to me, that came across in Dillane’s portrayal.

"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.

...

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Oh yes," said Voldemort quietly. "Yes, I'm very well. ..."

Even the ‘ugly, greedy look’ described in the books, when Slughorn starts spilling his secrets, is there. This is how he’s supposed to look! Slughorn glimpses it, but doesn’t understand its significance. Harry does. 

“Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.”

Remember the context of this moment, as well: He’s just discovered how to create multiple Horcruxes. Excuse him for looking a bit creepy (if not now, then when?).

Here’s two direct quotes of Harry’s impression of Tom Riddle in that scene: 

“But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.”

“Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human. . . .”

Tom Riddle’s Horcruxes are a direct metaphor for his refusal to allow himself to heal from his trauma -- instead, he continues to inflict destruction on himself and others.

His desire to continue creating more Horcruxes sort of resounds with the fact that self-harm can also become a compulsion.

I’d also like to digress a bit to discuss the Gaunt Ring, while we’re at it. While we’ve talked about his attachment issues in general, this discussion is particularly pertinent to father figures. And while Tom’s attachment issues are extensive, I think there’s ample evidence that as a child, he craved acknowledgement and acceptance from a father figure -- the man who gave him the only thing Tom truly owned -- his name. He would have had a vaguely defined mother figure in Mrs. Cole, perhaps.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was.... He didn’t like magic, my father ... He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage ... but I vowed to find him ... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name ... Tom Riddle. ..."

We know that by June of 1943 (COS flashback) Tom has already uncovered the truth of his parentage; he knows he is the Heir of Slytherin via the Gaunt line, and he describes himself to Dippet as ‘Half-blood, sir. Witch mother, Muggle father.’

In Part 1, I discussed the high probability that as a presumed ‘Mudblood’, Tom Riddle was treated rather poorly in Slytherin House. But by this scene in the fall of 1943, he is surrounded by a group of adoring hangers-on. Why?

In my opinion; the Gaunt Ring. We know that Tom stopped wearing it after school, so its sentimental value couldn’t have been that great. We know he likes to collect objects (which I believe stems from his attachment issues -- he seeks comfort in things instead of other people).

Signet rings (such as the one belonging to Tutankhamun seen above) were used to stamp legal documents and such, in order to certify someone’s identify -- like an e-certificate, if you will. Like Tutankhamun’s ring, the Gaunt Ring bears an identifying symbol -- Marvolo Gaunt tells us proudly that it bears the Peverell family crest.

By the Middle Ages, anyone of influence, including the nobility, wore a signet ring. Rings in antiquity were auspicious -- they signified power, legitimacy, and authority. And so, I believe that all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families would have worn these, too.

And so, bearing the Gaunt Ring would have established Tom Riddle, symbolically and in the eyes of the Sacred Twenty-Eight (his future supporters and followers), as the legitimate heir to the House of Gaunt. This is why, I believe, Tom coveted the ring as soon as he saw it -- not just because it was a family heirloom, and not just because he thought it was a pretty toy for his collection.

(He curses it so that no one else but him can wear the Gaunt Ring safely.)

This is why, to make the legitimization literal as well as symbolic, Tom murders his father and grandparents. It’s not just an act of vindictive, murderous rage due to his perception of being rejected by his father (although it is that, too). And so, Tom, abandoning his search for a father figure (and possibly also giving up on the possibility to allow himself to heal from his own personal trauma rather than continue to inflict it on others), ‘cleanses’ his bloodline, to make himself truly legitimate. It’s rather telling that instead of affirming his legitimacy as a Riddle, which would have put him in line for a nice inheritance, and hey -- money is money -- (thus accepting his half-blood status), he simply kills them all. He has done all the murdering he needs to become immortal (and he hasn’t had the discussion about multiple Horcruxes yet); but yet, he does it again. Frightening stuff. 

(Just look how the others look at Tom. All but the one to his left -- possibly Nott, Rosier, or Mulciber -- have their torsos turned towards him. Their attention is on him, while he knowingly regards the viewer/Harry. Tom seems a little uncomfortable with the attention.).

“And there were the half-dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.”

...

“Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.”

...

“Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.”

The ‘gang’ are true hangers-on; Tom doesn’t seem to pay them much attention. 

So, if not via careful flattery or charisma, the attraction must be status.

And perhaps yet more telling...

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing." “A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.”

That, in my opinion, is as good as we’re going to get as proof that Tom’s shiny new signet ring (and by extension, his new status) made a big impression on his fellow students.

So, when he returns to Hogwarts, he is ‘pureblood’. He is cleansed of his Muggle roots, and becomes the legitimate heir of the House of Gaunt, now well on his way to becoming Lord Voldemort...

Watch the scene again, with a critical eye, and imagine Slughorn’s perspective, instead of Harry’s. There’s nothing creepy about Tom Riddle... unless you know what he is...

Strip away all the effects of Harry’s gaze (and notice, here he’s still looking at Harry), and he’s quite the charmer, actually.

(I will concede that I don’t like the promotional images where they have him looking like he’s up to no good. And I do wish he blinked once in a while.)

My challenge to you: Rewatch the scene with an open mind, and let me know if you agree that Dillane’s portrayal comes off as depressive rather than ‘creepy.’ And if not, why do you dislike his portrayal?

[sellwater2theocean]

The cottage

As someone who comes from a low-middleclass family, I've somehow always dreamt of wealth. Specifically, of being able to afford things that I've always wanted to own.

Have you ever read The shadow of the wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon?

It was my favourite book for years. At the beginning of the story, the main character, Daniel, expresses his interest towards a specific object, he would stare at it every time he walked by the glass windows of the shop that sold it: a fountain pen, it was said to have belonged to Victor Hugo.

I wouldn't define myself as someone who particularly believes that money can buy happiness- it's not true. Money can't buy you love, it can't make your heart flutter, it can't grant you importance. The only thing that will make people remember you to the end of their time on Earth is how you treat them. That's just how humans are wired.

Nevertheless, money could definitely grant me some peace and quiet. Therefore, I often find myself daydreaming about what I would do if I was selfish enough to waste cash onto the house of my dreams.

It would be a cottage in a warm area, on the countryside. Maybe Italy, or Spain, even southern France. I'd grow my own goods- vegetables, fruits, berries. I'd own chicken and quails, I'd learn how to sew and knit and crochet, only occasionally interacting with people to buy those things I wouldn't be able to produce myself. In this context, money wouldn't be an issue. I'd have enough to pay taxes and all. That's the least of my problems. In the ideal picture, I wouldn't even bother to cover any expense. Money is fake, it's made up, it's stupid. Apple trees, or a bush of blackberries, however, are concrete. They're tangible, real and sweet, they can make you happy.

I don't have the blueprint figured out quite yet, but I know for sure that I want a specific room to be a specific way.

It would be an office of sorts, perhaps a reading room. Large, with a window on one of the walls, opening on a vast field- I can picture flowers, looks like foxgloves. I can't put my finger on it, I've never seen foxgloves, I don't know where they grow, or how they smell, but I know those surely are foxgloves. The other walls would be covered with wooden bookshelves, except for one that would host some sort of bridge surrounding a mid-century couch, red and made of a soft fabric, maybe even velvet. In front of it there would be a small table with a teapot and a vast variety of blends, from chai to fruity, herbal concoctions.

Below the window there'd be a massive mahogany desk, part of it used as writing and reading surface, the other would host an original Olivetti Lettera 22.

I'd have the chance to collect things, aswell. As far as books go, I'd love to own a complete series of antique encyclopedias, Russian Literature classics, from Bulgakov to Dostoevsky, then Italian and French poetry, a leggern with a beautiful copy of Dante's Inferno- my favourite section of the Divine Comedy. Every single volume I'd own would be hardcover, vintage, in perfect condition.

I'm enamoured with the idea of owning several fountain pens. Much like Daniel, I happen to sometimes walk by a Montblanc reseller and I catch myself dreaming while staring at the models exposed in the glass windows.

And I want them. It's greedy and superficial. But I want them.

I like visiting flea markets. One of the few in my area has been selling a typewriter from the 60s for a while. It's cheap, only 20€, I could easily afford to buy it, but I don't have space in my house. My room is already much too crowded, stuffed with books in every corner, school material is scattered everywhere. So whenever I go there looking for things I would like to own some day, I stare at it, dreaming. I cherish the opportunity of gawking at that machine.

Money would never make me truly happy. I know that. I'm not stupid.

Money is mankind's worst invention.

So then why do I need to own things? Is it a direct consequence of capitalism? Is it hypocrisy, greed, envy...?

Will I ever find a proper answer to my query? Is there even such thing?

I'll guard my dreams, in the meantime. The pure fascination I feel for the keys of a typewriter, the black ink of a fountain pen and the natural creases of mahogany wood will keep me going.

[dreaming-in-alicante]

Chapter 3 is finally done! Sorry it took longer - finals week happened and it was a harder chapter to write for some reason. I'm excited to finish this story though - we're half-way through :)

Chapter 3: Lighting the flame

Christopher met his friends outside, where they piled into a carriage and set off for the Devil Tavern. The atmosphere between them was still tense; James and Matthew, sitting across from him, were quiet. Christopher wished, as he so often did, that he understood people better. He hated it when they all fought, and now it was partly his fault and he didn’t know how to fix it. Thankfully, James took the initiative.

“Kit,” he began, “we’re sorry for being so confrontational. It’s only you have to understand how it looks from our perspective. Grace’s actions, even if she regrets them, caused a great deal of pain.” James looked troubled.

“Thomas shared some of what you all learned yesterday talking to Jesse,” Matthew said softly. “About how bad things were for her with Tatiana. And it…well I still don’t trust her but it sounds like she’s trying to be – to be better. And I out of everyone should be sympathetic to that.” His hand moved unconsciously to his jacket. He had stopped carrying a flask everywhere but after so many years of drinking, it was still a reflex to reach for the alcohol.

James seemed to notice this motion, and clasped his parabatai’s shoulder briefly in support, then returned his attention to Christopher. “I suppose what I’ll say is that I cannot soon forget what Grace has done, and I prefer to avoid her,” James said carefully, “but I – none of us – should be trying to control who you spend time with Kit. I am sorry. If you trust her, then we shall trust you.”

“Oh, jolly good,” Christopher said, immensely relieved. He hated conflict, especially with his friends. “I am sorry that I didn’t think to mention her helping. She’s the first friend I’ve ever made.”

His friends all looked suddenly gut-punched for some reason. “Kit, do you not think we’re friends?” Matthew asked, appearing quite distressed.

“Of course we are! Aren’t we?” Christopher was, for a second time that evening, horribly confused.

“But you just said –” James began, looking stricken.

“Do you mean she’s the first friend that you personally have made, on your own, Kit?” Thomas asked, understanding Christopher best as usual.

“Precisely!” Christopher said, then realized, “Ah, I understand now how that sounded. I meant that – well, I’m related to two of you and we all just sort of fell in together didn’t we? I have never made a friend on my own.” The rest of the Merry Thieves relaxed visibly.

“Fair enough,” Matthew said, looking relieved. “Honestly Kit, Grace Bla – sorry , Cartwright – out of everyone you could choose for a friend.” He shook his head but there was a teasing glint in his eye.

“She’s really a wonderful lab partner!” Christopher assured them cheerfully. “She’s been organizing everything and making an inventory. And she had a wonderful insight the other day about this reaction with sulfuric acid.”

Thomas shifted on the seat next to Christopher as he said “I never would have expected scientific curiosity from Grace of all people, but she was right at home in that laboratory today.”

“Honestly, it took me a second to recognize her – wearing a dark dress, and those ridiculous goggles that you also wear in the lab,” Matthew said, gesturing at Christopher.

“They may not be fashionable, but they are very important as protective gear,” Christopher told him.

Matthew shuddered slightly but smiled good-naturedly as he said, “And that is why I will never pursue science. Terrible field for the fashion-minded.” This started him on a wild story about finding a new waistcoat earlier that week. Christopher was quite satisfied that peace had been restored, and thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the night with his friends.

_________________________________________________________

The following Wednesday, Christopher was even more eager than usual to get to Grosvenor Square – Henry was due to arrive back in London that morning. He was keen to get Henry’s thoughts on several projects, especially the runed guns and the fire messages.

Christopher started the morning by testing another rune combination on a message. This attempt ended, as many did, in a small explosion. He was still putting out a fire on the lab table when Grace arrived for the day. She greeted him briefly before starting to set up a reaction flask. During her organization of the lab she had come across a vial with some mysterious white powder. Christopher had no idea what it was, so they decided it would be an intriguing exercise for her to determine the contents.

Soon after Grace’s arrival, a humming noise sounded, then a whistling, signaling that the elevator down to the lab was in use. Christopher hurried over as the doors opened. “Welcome back, Henry!” he said, grinning.

Henry looked just the same as always, with perhaps a bit more gray in his hair after the stress of the past few months. “Kit, my boy!” he greeted as he maneuvered his Bath chair out of the elevator and towards the lab table. “How are things going? Any progress on those guns with the pithos? And you must help me examine this sample of water I brought back from Alicante, I wonder if we could try using it in another version of demon repelling ointment. Being around so many wards, it may be imbued with some demon-repelling properties.” He reached the work table and paused as he finally noticed Grace standing there. Henry looked bewildered and Christopher struggled to remember whether he had mentioned Grace in his letter to Henry. He was fairlysure that he had.

“Hello!” Henry said to her pleasantly, “You’re the one with the demon powers that was briefly engaged to my son. Gladys, yes?” Well, letter or otherwise, at least Henry remembered her.

“Grace, actually,” she replied, looking tense, her posture stiff. “I do want to apologize again for…everything.”

Henry waved off her concern and said, “It all ended alright didn’t it? Charles Buford will find someone else. And Kit mentioned you’ve been a great help in the lab recently!”

Good, Christopher thought, I did remember to include that in the letter.

“I would actually be quite interested to hear about your power and how it worked. Especially through a bracelet, fascinating!” Henry continued as he maneuvered towards the rack of chemicals.

Grace appeared exceedingly uncomfortable, but quickly warmed up to Henry throughout the day as he described various project ideas to her and took a look at her reactions. By that evening, when all three were involved in a lengthy discussion about runes and the application of runes to invention, it was as if Grace had always been part of the team. Christopher was delighted anew that Grace understood both he and Henry in a way that very few others did.

They finally finished for the night after Charlotte had called down the stairs three times with increasing insistence about coming up for dinner. Grace left to catch a carriage home with a smile on her face. Christopher wished briefly that she could stay longer, but he was comforted by the fact that she would return in the morning.

_________________________________________________________

“Hullo Grace!” Christopher said happily as she entered the lab early the next day. He then bent back down to examine a glass slide under the microscope. Henry was occupied entertaining some visitors with Charlotte, but Christopher was already hard at work. “You must come take a look at this sample of water from Lake Lyn that Henry brought,” he told her. It was fascinating watching the microorganisms move about in the droplet under the lens. When Grace did not immediately respond, he looked up and actually got a good look at her face. “I say, is something wrong, Grace? You’re a bit –” He was about to say ‘splotchy’, for her normally pale face was quite red in parts. He caught himself at the last second however, remembering his mother saying that a gentleman should never remark on a lady’s less-than-favorable appearance. “You look upset,” he said instead. She was not her normal cool and collected self.

He thought that Grace would brush off his concern, and she indeed stiffened and started to turn away. Then she met his gaze and her shoulder slumped in resignation. “I encountered Charles on my way in,” she explained.

“Ah. I forgot that he would be returning with Henry,” Christopher said, wincing. “Things are still awkward after ending the engagement then?”

“More than awkward,” she answered, expression still pinched. “He is still extremely upset that I manipulated his mind. Said I’d made a fool of him and he doesn’t want me in his house.” She set her coat and hat down on the stool with more force than strictly necessary.

Christopher frowned and said, “Technically it’s Henry and Charlotte’s house.”

A faint smile rose on Grace’s lips. “That’s precisely what I told him, and I mentioned that I worked with Henry just yesterday. He then called you both ‘trusting fools’ and made some…unflattering statements about my personage.”

“Well perhaps if we give him some more time, he’ll come round!” Christopher said optimistically. “I suppose it’s easier for me to say since you only used your power on me once or twice compared to the many more times you used it on him.”

Grace looked at him, pale brows drawn together in puzzlement. “I never used my power on you, Christopher,” she said slowly.

Christopher was wholly astonished by her statement. “You – never? Really?” he asked, mentally reeling. “What ho! But the night you came to the laboratory and helped me figure out the pithos I – are you sure?”

Grace shook her head. “Never. I’m completely sure,” she said firmly. “I would have apologized if I had, I –” she stared at him, looking almost indignant. “You really invited me here, have been working with me, and all this time you though I had manipulated you that night? And never gave you a formal apology?” she asked incredulously.

“When you asked about joining me in the lab that first day, you apologized for everything again. I assumed that included any time you used your power on me!” Christopher said, thoughts racing. He had been so eager to help her that night. Although now that he thought about it, they had discussed a lot of science, which he now knew Grace was genuinely interested in. “Why didn’t you?” he asked her, very curious.

Grace hesitated before saying, “I didn’t need to. You weren’t bothered by my being there and you were happy to show me around.” Something flickered in her pale eyes. “I never liked using my power when I could avoid it. I suppose because I knew that it was wrong,” she added. She looked as if she might say something else, but at that moment a whistling noise from the elevator indicated that Henry was on his way down to the lab.

They were soon absorbed in experimenting and discussing theories but at points Christopher found his focus drifting back to their conversation, and even farther back to that first night in the lab. It seemed like Grace had used her power on nearly everyone at some point, yet incredibly, she had never used it on him despite numerous opportunities. Christopher didn’t know what to make of that.

_________________________________________________________

It was just Christopher and Henry in the lab the following day. Grace was training with Jesse, and then planned to take a tour around the city with her brother, Lucie, and Ariadne (who was apparently going by Kamala these days). Christopher could never be bored working with Henry but after having Grace’s constant companionship for nearly a month it was…strange, to be working with only Henry and not her.

The day’s work proved incredibly successful, however. Upon Henry’s suggestion, Christopher added a bridge rune to the fire communication rune he had been tinkering with for months. He was thrilled to observe the message burn up and reform a few feet away. Henry, delighted, helped him replicate the results numerous times to prove that it was a repeatable phenomenon. Henry demonstrated it for a startled Charlotte (she had been interrupted in the middle of writing a letter in her office). She beamed, proud of them both, giving Henry a congratulatory kiss.

Christopher could not wait to share the good news with Grace. He wished she had been there to see it the first time, but no matter – there would be plenty of time to demonstrate it tomorrow.

He and Henry spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get the messages to travel farther than a few feet. Although foiled in these attempts, the breakthrough left them both very pleased as they finished for the day.

_________________________________________________________

Christopher was waiting at the entrance for Grace the next morning, eager to share the news. She looked startled to find him right behind the door as it opened, which he supposed was unusual given that they always met down in the lab. She had barely finished saying good morning before he could not contain his excitement and exclaimed, “You must come see the breakthrough Henry and I made yesterday, Grace! We’re so close to having a working fire-message!” He caught her arm and hurried her to the stairs down to the lab. She seemed a bit disoriented by his sudden enthusiasm but listened intently with a bemused smile as he explained the thought process behind the rune combination they had tried.

They reached the work table and Christopher quickly traced out the new rune. The paper burned up and reformed a few feet in front of them. When it reappeared, Grace grinned widely. “Incredible!” she declared, and she snatched the paper to study the rune. It occurred to Christopher that Grace had a very nice smile. She normally had a serious face, but smiles had become more frequent as the weeks had passed.

“What have you tried adding to this so far?” she asked. Christopher grabbed his notebook and they reviewed what he had recorded the previous day.

“Do you mind if I try some things?” Grace asked. “I’ve been studying that book on runes that Henry gave me – I think I may have a few ideas.”

“By all means!” Christopher told her, delighted. “I could use a break from runes after all the work yesterday. I think I’ll experiment with the Lake Lyn water today and try a demon-repelling ointment again.”

“All right, then,” she said, and set to work with a determined expression.

Later that afternoon, Henry already finished for the day and off to some important dinner, Christopher was checking the now-complete inventory list. “Blast!” he said softly, then called over to Grace, “Do you remember seeing nightshade anywhere when you were organizing?”

She pursed her lips in thought, then shook her head. “No, none,” she answered.

“I suppose I’ll be taking a trip to the Shadow Market tonight then,” Christopher said. He was determined to try combining some nightshade extract with the new demon-repelling ointment he was developing.

“The Shadow Market?” Grace queried, eyebrows raised in interest. “Do you go there often? I wanted to go before when I was looking for something to help Jesse, but I was never confident that I could find my way around.”

“It’s a wonderful place! I have to go fairly often for ingredients that are, er, not strictly approved by the Clave,” he explained. “Oh!” he said, struck by an obvious thought, “would you like to accompany me tonight?”

“I would love to,” Grace said, looking excited. She sent a letter to Jesse to inform him of the change in plans, and eagerly questioned Christopher about various aspects of the Market.

They each wrapped up their work as the sun began to set, the changing sky visible from a high window in the basement. Christopher was locating his coat and hat when he realized he should ask Grace about weapons. It was unlikely they’d face any demons in the carriage or Shadow Market, but it was good to be prepared. She had daggers on her already, but he offered her a seraph blade in addition. Ready, with ingredient list in hand, the set out to the carriage.

Christopher offered Grace an arm up, then followed her in. Their knees brushed together as he settled on the seat opposite Grace and the carriage began moving. Christopher noticed that she looked somewhat flushed. “Would you like the window open?” he asked. “You look a bit warm.”

“No, I’m perfectly comfortable, thank you,” she said, appearing discomposed. “What are you hoping to accomplish with the nightshade that you’ll be getting?” she asked.

Christopher happily launched into a lengthy explanation of his thought process and the previous attempts at demon-repelling ointment, and the discussion lasted them all the way to the Shadow Market.

[monstersdownthepath]

Ioslon, Beloved by Worms

Chaotic Neutral Archfey of Spirals, Worms, and Obsession

Domains: Artifice, Chaos, Charm, Madness Subdomains: Toil, Protean, Captivation, Insanity Favored Weapon: Whip Symbol: A worm curled into a loose spiral Sacred Animal: Worms Sacred Color: Blue, purple

The temptation of the Demon Lords is not merely for mortals. The eternal paths that the Ravager Worm Yhidothrus carves through layer after layer of reality have attracted the attention of countless mortals and immortals alike who seek out the secrets that the great Demon Lord holds. Not a single one of them returns whole, if at all, and this does not change for creatures of great influence like Ioslon.

Once a revered craftsman among the Fey, Ioslon became curious of what hid within the boundless depths of the Spiral Path--Yhidothrus’ realm--and that curiosity quickly, pardon the pun, spiraled into obsession. Building himself a vessel he believed could survive the ravages of Abyss and Worm alike, Ioslon and a crew of his sycophants and faithful descended into the Path and, within a mere month, vanished beyond means of communication both magical and mundane for several centuries. Like many who’ve performed the very same foolish act, Ioslon was swiftly delegated to a mere footnote in the dusty tomes regarding the Ravager Worm, standing out only for his notable status as an Archfey.

That very same status is perhaps what ended up saving him from destruction, not that he ever said. His return was not a triumphant affair with ribbons fluttering through the air, no. Only a handful even knew he had returned at all until rumors of his workshop reopening began to circulate, though none were allowed inside. It was only when Ng the Hooded himself stepped up to the door and requested entry to the craftsman’s workshop that it was revealed what had happened to Ioslon. A writhing body of composite millions, a strange obsession, fiendish magic used to twist the world into unearthly shapes. Bringing the Abyss into the First World was usually a punishable offense, but Ioslon had plans for these exotic materials that the Hooded demigod found interesting and an assurance that stayed the Eldest’s hand:

“I have learned what I needed to from Yhidothrus.”

Ng was the first to receive a gift from the Beloved By Worms. It’s not known what Ioslon said and gifted to each of the Eldest and Archfey who visited in turn, but it has similarly quelled their anger for the time being, allowing the writhing Archfey to work in relative peace towards his... “goals.”

In truth, Ioslon possesses few long-term or even short-term goals. His mind is too far gone for such leaps and bounds, and is not even fully his anymore. His form--now composed of innumerable worms--houses not just his consciousness, but the fragmented minds of thousands of individuals consumed by the madness of the Spiral Path, a collective he refers to as the Twine. While the mind of the revered craftsman is at the forefront of this mess, the countless minds and memories sharing space in his head steer him in a circle almost constantly... or, rather, a spiral.

The congealed obsessions of each and every spirit Ioslon has assimilated has formed together to form a single cohesive thought which links all of them: An adoration of the spiral. The “Divine Shape,” as he calls it, is the only thing that grants him focus, and only projects involved with it or incorporating it in some way are projects he can focus long enough to work on to completion. His laboratory is littered with clockworks in varying states of construction, each incorporating numerous spiral-patterned gears and unnecessary numbers of springs to sate the obsession of his thousand conflicting minds. His laboratory is also strewn about with terrariums containing worms and worm-like creatures from all over the Great Beyond, as he claims to be able to divine all that he needs from watching them burrow, eat, and writhe. Whether or not this is true is not known.

The obsession with the Divine Shape guilds Ioslon’s new faith and philosophy almost entirely, though metaphorical meanings and the symbology of the spiral are left to his minions and sycophants; he’s purely interested in the physical pattern, and waxing poetic about cycles or recursion is something he never truly engages in. Despite this, every now and then, enough of the fragmented remnants will surge to the surface to trigger a sudden obsession with topics such as time, entropy, patterns, madness, runes, or other spiral-adjacent subjects that stretch beyond the physical. These swings of focus are typically when the Twine take over themselves and create their most magnificent of devices, the constructs they craft performing reality-defying feats that are difficult, if not impossible, to replicate even by the greatest of mortal minds. Despite (or perhaps because of) the corruption and fragmenting of his mind, Ioslon possesses the genius necessary to build machines that can do anything, no matter how outlandish or impossible. It’s these miracles of invention that draw people to Ioslon in the hopes of finding their own muse.

-------- Obedience and Boons --------

Ioslon’s faith is more of a gathering of fans and fellow geniuses than an actual religion, with the majority of his flock gathering to witness his works of art or the emergence of the Twine. Collaborating with Ioslon himself is nearly impossible, but many great minds in the field of clockwork and engineering departments have met one another at his inventors fairs and begun to collaborating with each other instead. To truly work alongside Ioslon himself, one must have a similarly single-minded, manic obsession into which they will throw all else. An unenviable position, to be certain, but the Beloved by Worms views such creatures as kindred souls and allows them access to his shop and his resources, so that they may pursue their greatest passions.

The rest of his faithful and Feysworn have their own reasons for working for him. Many pity him, gathering materials from across the cosmos to bring to his lab at his request simply to prevent him from injuring himself getting them. Many desire something of him, hoping that by achieving greatness in his name, they will be granted their greatest wish. Still others work for him for the simple reason of whimsy, wondering what he’ll do next and thus obeying his nigh-nonsensical orders just to see what will happen. Any member of a class which rewards creativity, drive, or single-minded obsession is welcome in the flock of he who is Beloved by Worms.

A great number of Ioslon’s servants are often sent on missions that can range anywhere from pointless to the laughable to the unfeasible, all guided by his obsession. One Feysworn recalls being instructed to carve spirals into every 4th brick on a sidewalk in a specific city, while another group earned the considerably more dangerous mission of wrangling a Purple Worm, only to have it fed to another, larger Purple Worm for unfathomable reasons as he looked on, writing exotic symbols on a clipboard. One particularly dangerous mission took a squadron of his flock deep into the Darklands in search of a colony of Flail Snails he demanded be brought to him, as he tearfully languished over their “inability to experience their own immaculate design” and strove to grant them the gift of sight.

Still, those who serve the Beloved by Worms learn to put up with these strange orders, as each completed mission seems to grant him just a bit more stability, bringing him closer to his next miracle.

Using the Fey Obedience feat, a worshiper of Ioslon gain certain Boons upon reaching a certain amount of Hit Dice. These Boons are granted at 12HD, 16HD, and 20HD, though the Feysworn Prestige Class allows someone to achieve the Boons much, much sooner. The Beloved by Worms is an Archfey, though a powerful one, but his Boons are relatively simple and remain spell-likes that may be cast 1/day.

Obedience: Using a sharp implement, slowly scratch or carve a spiral into the ground as you walk in a tight circle for roughly an hour, moving slowly outwards until the spiral is at least 5 feet wide (or as wide as the area allows). Alternately, tinker with or build a clockwork device. Benefit: Gain a +4 sacred or profane bonus to saves against charms and compulsion effects, as well as to Craft checks.

Boon 1: Puzzle Box

Boon 2: Quest

Boon 3: Summon Elder Worm

[pomrania]

TMA Entities as Normal Horoscopes

(To clarify, the Entities from The Magnus Archives, as represented by horoscopes from @normal-horoscopes. Entities presented in alphabetical order, horoscopes in the order that I found them.)

BEHOLDING

Libra: Your eye for detail is one of your most defining traits! Most people only have two general purpose eyes.

Gemini: Unleash your curiosity upon an unforgiving world and dissect everything you are afraid of with an olive fork until you understand it so well it can’t scare you anymore.

Pisces: You are the last one still awake. What are you still doing up? This late at night, with only one pair of eyes. You might see something you weren’t supposed to.

Gemini: You’ll have to throw out or donate most of your novelty t-shirts when you awake to find several bonus eyes hovering around you in elliptical orbits.

Sagittarius: Careful not to blunt those sharp eyes on an unforgiving task. Passion for learning is all well and good, but you’re venturing into uncharted territory that may contain things that want your eyes.

Gemini: Most of us have spare eyes. You have far too many.

Taurus: I can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched. Wait, watched isn’t the right word. Watched and something else.

Cancer: Quit your peeping. Something is looking back at you.

BURIED

Virgo: The weight of the world will crush you into a diamond.

Virgo: Your horoscope today is just dust. That’s it. Buncha dust.

Libra: Pressure can be an excellent motivator in the right amount. Also, they meant social pressure, doing paperwork in a deep-sea diving bell will not improve the quality of your work.

Gemini: From dust to dust. You came from the earth and she wants you back.

Taurus: Cave buddies.

Capricorn: Spend some time huffing large amounts of dust to make your insides dustier.

Scorpio: As you lay on your back, head tilted to an uncaring sky, the very earth whispered to you. She reached up her hands and fingers and you gave her everything you could. Sleep now. Mother is here.

Taurus: It goes far deeper than you imagine. Talk about it.

Cancer: You’ve come across something you should not have interrupted. Run. Run now. Go, or the very earth will swallow you whole.

Scorpio: Your natural drive and ambition will lead you to some interesting places! Who knew a person could even fit in that small a hole?

CORRUPTION

Aries: Live in the level of filth that is comfortable to you. Just make sure you are practicing self-love.

Pisces: You will see a cool picture of a plague doctor this week. Hell yeah.

Pisces: Growth is simply growth. Gardens and cancers alike.

Ophiuchus: When she awoke to see the infection had taken her shoulder she did the only sensible thing. She cut off her own head. She holds it by the hair in her left hand.

Ophiuchus: Worms in your brain. Worms in your brain. There are very helpful worms in your brain.

Gemini: The discomfort you can’t seem to shake is likely due to the large nest of bees that have made its home inside your ribs.

Ophiuchus: The value of today’s fortune depends heavily on your opinion of rot.

Virgo: The position of Mars says the virus is spreading and soon you will be reborn ascendant to join in the virulent bacchanalia.

Leo: We can only hate what we see in ourselves. Consider that you may be full of mosquitoes.

Aquarius: A lavish and ostentatious estate. Empty and bare because the previous occupants couldn’t stomach a little plague. Wimps.

Aries: When she touched you she laid several eggs in your skin. Free babes! Nice.

Ophiuchus: Having trouble in an academic setting? Try lying down in a field and letting insects use their tiny voices to whisper the secrets of the world to you.

DARK

Scorpio: A ray of night from the clouds will darken the banks of the river. Look only. Touch nothing.

Capricorn: The massive black roadrunner that followed your car through Utah. You didn’t say a word the whole night.

Leo: When you see the black, many eyed owls, immediately turn around and snuff out any lights. Your light up sneakers will have to go. Sacrifices must be made.

Aries: Take their hand. They will guide you into the night. Finding your own way out will be its own task. Feel as your heart starts to quicken.

Pisces: There is so much the world has to offer. So much beyond this fervor. Steady your hands and rest in the gentle dark.

Leo: The Diminutive Beings of Shadow and Dread are raccoons. They are raccoons. Close your trash cans.

Aries: You visibly absorb light from the area around you, consider medication.

Leo: Something moves soundlessly through your neighborhood, avoiding the streetlights. Check on your pets.

Pisces: The night is a blanket over all of us. There is fear and comfort in the privacy of the dark.

DESOLATION

Scorpio: As much as the stars and I admire your zeal, human hair candles will not catch on.

Taurus: Ensure your friends sit next to you by burning all other chairs and eating the ashes to hide your trickery.

Virgo: Fire is a powerful cleansing force, but that doesn’t make arson legal. The one thing fire cannot purify is the law.

Gemini: It absolutely could hurt to try. Pain is just pain.

Aries: Today your horoscope involves fire and children. The stars wouldn’t clarify anything past that.

Ophiuchus: A chapel made from old shipping containers. The priest is setting herself on fire for the third time in the sermon.

Cancer: It will not actually solve anything, but you can put your problems into perspective by setting everything on fire.

Capricorn: You’ll look back on all of it and wish it to be burned. Start the fire as soon as possible.

Libra: Watch the fire dance between your fingers. You only have so long.

END

Aries: Look buddy, only one of us can leave this pumpkin festival alive, and I’m already dead.

Gemini: What’s the rush? Nothing has happened but you can feel your heartbeat in your ears, you can feel your eyes dilate. Literally nothing has changed but your body seems convinced that you are going to die any second.

Scorpio: No sense in arguing over the supposed opinions of a dead man. Dig him up and ask him why don’t you? It’s a once in a lifetime chance.

Sagittarius: Today you will be legally dead for about 140 seconds but you’ll come back with a complementary mint.

Leo: After selling your soul to the devil, the sheer negative value of your soul will crash the soul market, causing the dead to walk again.

Ophiuchus: The only permanent state of being is death and even that’s debatable.

Pisces: A good strategy here is to simply refuse to die.

Aquarius: Fuck it. Carry a scythe around. Who even gives a shit.

Capricorn: Statistically, there is a chance that something you do today, however small, will lead to the death of an innocent.

Ophiuchus: Death is only the beginning. The beginning of not being alive anymore.

Aries: Your obsession with death will be satisfied. Eventually.

FLESH

Ophiuchus: Have yourself a feast and invent a new catholic saint to justify it.

Taurus: The stars say to get of your high horse and quit genetically engineering horses to have such legs. Horses are poorly designed as they are. It’s irresponsible.

Aries: Your newfound ability to scale a brick wall in seconds flat is kinda scary. Your bones make weird noises and everything. Try not to do it around kids.

Virgo: Do you know what flavor you are Virgo? Well get ready to find out!

Capricorn: You know Capricorn, you’re really one or two big steps away from being a sausage.

Leo: There will be a distinct element of aggression to your emotions today, specifically towards chefs that are a member of the ancient secret society of cannibals who just murdered your science teacher.

Taurus: Money troubles Taurus? Try growing new bones and selling them to bone farmers for extra cash. If you get good enough at it, you can use wholesalers.

Sagittarius: Fear not, there is pulled pork aplenty for those with the courage to seek it.

Virgo: There is a mad little part of our heads that looks at a meat cleaver and says “just chop your hand off”. Don’t listen to that bit. It's a prick and it owes me $120.

Pisces: Your body is not a temple, it is a river. A river made of meat and blood and stuff.

HUNT

Aquarius: Speak softly, carry a big stick, hide a gun inside the stick just in case the bastard is outside of stick range.

Pisces: If you are being chased by something unearthly, go for the selfie. Life is short, especially when you are being chased by something unearthly.

Aries: Nothing evil stalks the forest. The wild is bigger than you could ever imagine. You are nothing to it. No skinwalker or boogeyman or revenant could ever aspire to the persistence and hunger of the wild untamed.

Leo: Allow fear to inform you. To accept fear as sovereign is sin against the self. Fear is very correct about the large hungry mammal chasing you. Run.

Aquarius: Those assassins from the meat of the month club have finally found your new address and are planting the explosives as you read this.

Scorpio: Dreams of chasing smaller weaker things through the woods. Waking aching to remember. You will remember soon.

Sagittarius: The hunt is on! No starbucks will escape your horn-blessed gaze.

Scorpio: You will get into a fight. Go on a quest for revenge. And know the true visceral feeling of the hunt.

Virgo: The blissful are being sold a lie. The only true bliss is the glory of the hunt and a slaked bloodlust.

Pisces: Nothing gets the panties wet like the sound of hundreds of spectral mounts crashing through moonlit woods while the call of the hunt echoes among the trees, striking fear into the hearts of your ghastly quarry.

LONELY

Ophiuchus: You can’t stop feeling just one thing. Stuffing down one emotion means stuffing down them all.

Aquarius: You may be stunned to find that the introduction of a new person into your life will make you less lonely.

Taurus: Spend some time outdoors today. Reflect on the state of the world. See yourself reflected in the world and try to fight the other person who is interrupting your reflection time.

Aquarius: Do you remember the seaside? That strip of sand that made you feel at home? Do you remember how quiet it was?

Virgo: Remember Virgo, you can click the control stick to go into stealth mode. Use this to avoid your problems easier.

Aries: You are beyond the pale, transparent really.

Taurus: It's not fog. It's a curse. A curse that looks like fog. Stay away.

Cancer: The stars and I regret to tell you that you will, actually, have to talk to people at some point.

SLAUGHTER

Capricorn: Some things cannot be prepared for. Who even uses flintlock pistols anymore? Especially in the parking lot of a grocery store?

Pisces: There is a number of knives that it is appropriate to own. It is quite high. Let’s say you need to curate your collection.

Pisces: Romantic bloodsport for two.

Leo: Nobody really cares that you’re not one for fighting. Preparation is its own reward.

Leo: Having trouble with your customers at work? Strike the head for critical damage!

Aries: When things seem confusing, just start swinging at whoever you see. At the very least, you’ll get some breathing room.

Capricorn: It may be that you fight for good, and your opponent fights for a love of bloodshed, all that matters is that you are fighting.

Virgo: Ruthless efficiency produces results but blind rage is more fun.

SPIRAL

Libra: Drawings of wildflowers that don’t exist. Diagrams and advice in a language that nobody speaks. Strewn about your room in impossible places.

Capricorn: Reject the concept of direction. There is no up, there is no down. Orientation is for losers.

Sagittarius: You are correct Sagittarius! That small wooden carving of a fox wasn’t there last night! Yes, it is cursed! Right on the money there.

Capricorn: There is no old woman following you around throwing small potted plants at you.

Scorpio: Relieve stress by planning a trip that isn’t a trip to a place that isn’t a place. Relieve stress by conceiving of time collapsed into a single semipermeable plane of events that anchors all the things that could be.

Leo: When the world stops making sense, play with the perspective. Go Escher on your problem’s ass.

Taurus: Two strangers meet in a Mediterranean country that does not exist. They discuss silver and poison and the nature of madness.

STRANGER

Aquarius: You are never done growing. It takes real effort, and for you, it will take many hours of prowling around the backs of hardware stores for stray screws to eat.

Libra: There is something in the wires practicing its voices by leaving spam calls in your inbox.

Sagittarius: Whoops! Something stole your friend’s face again! Get that ritual dagger and get to work.

Capricorn: Well lookee what we go here, a full shipment of mannequins that look exactly like you except with minor errors in body part proportions. Whoda thunk?

Sagittarius: Enough improvements and you’ll barely recognize yourself. Harvest the parts and avoid the authorities.

Cancer: If you’re gonna copy other people, don’t half-ass it. Ritual cannibalism is the only way to go.

Ophiuchus: The creepy carnival set up outside of town that only certain people can see is not to be trusted, not matter how cool the rollercoaster looks.

Cancer: She’s a fake bitch. Literally, she has a heart of clockwork and armored skin made of porcelain. Even unholy things like her shouldn’t gossip though.

Taurus: Beware the almost. The almost real, the almost breathing, the almost human.

Virgo: Keep a close eye on the puppets. One of them has no strings. 

VAST

Aries: The stars say you may find yourself falling from a great height. Remember to tuck and roll.

Virgo: Do not look down. There is nothing beneath you. Carry on with your day as if the world is sensible and solid beneath you, and it will follow suit.

Aries: The storm sirens wail, the sound of colossal footsteps thunder closer. A low mournful sound that seems to crack the sky.

Pisces: Today you might fall into a bottomless pit. This is not a metaphor.

Aries: Ever feel under the weather? You are lightning.

Aquarius: You can also see the stars if you’re not in a gutter.

Leo: A man on the roof of his home during a tornado warning, laughing.

Aries: The world seems to be getting smaller and smaller. One day you will be confronted with the magnitude of it all. The vast unexplored deep. The wild unknown, and all those that would build a home in its bosom.

Aries: The space between two mountains in the distance. The sky looks different. You can hear the beating of colossal wings.

Aquarius: Your desire for human contact can be satisfied by being struck by lightning for some reason.

WEB

Capricorn: Today you will finally locate and kill the college student with a writing credit on your life.

Capricorn: The stars say to make friends with the harvestmen in your bathroom. They are helping clean up all the lil bug corpses and would appreciate some recognition.

Aquarius: It’s time to make a nest. Don’t ask questions. No thought, only nest.

Gemini: You’ve got a productive day in store Gemini. Will it be on something you actually want to do? Let’s say there is some minor will enslavement involved.

Aquarius: You’ve done an excellent job so far of making friends with the spider people that live in the abandoned subway tunnels. Keep it up!

Gemini: People are depending on you to uphold your promises. The last thing you want to be known as is a trickster. Or is it? That’s exactly the sort of thing a trickster would do!

Leo: You are a puppet, you know exactly who is pulling the strings.

Libra: A tiny spider who has made a friend.

Ophiuchus: The spider lady would like her copy of Where the Sidewalk Ends back.

Aries: See how the cobwebs catch the light? Be sure to thank the spiders.

And some others that didn't necessarily fit with a particular Entity, but gave off such strong TMA vibes that I had to include them anyways:

Gemini: This week you will be faced with your greatest challenge yet, a twink with massive burn scars.

Libra: Preserve yourself for all eternity by outsourcing your aging to other people.

Pisces: One man’s panic inducing siren-song is what another man uses to fall asleep.

Virgo: Confused? Do not worry. Everything not saved will be lost.

Taurus: This week should be one of experimentation! Push the boundaries of what it means to be mortal!

Capricorn: Answer the Door.

Scorpio: Tomorrow will be the last time you dream of the crown of teeth.

Cancer: The thing that watches over the prison transport ships. It used to be two things but now they share a spine.

Aries: Trust your instincts Aries, your dead wife does have a new form made of dried paint and she is slowly hunting you.

Taurus: They died when the radio tower was bombed. Sometimes you can hear them sending messages before the sun rises, whispering over the unused channels.

Virgo: Your capacity for learning will come in handy today when you smash your head through an old Apple II and download the entire internet into your brain, along with several shards of glass.

Libra: Look, nobody said it would be easy, but at least now you’re suffering for something you love.

Pisces: There is a hole in the world where you cannot see, and through this hole there seeps the things that can never be.

Scorpio: Sometimes being too oblivious to even notice a problem can be an asset. Can’t sweat the small stuff if you don’t even notice it.

Libra: Financial problems? Try encasing your credit cards in a block of ice. Encase all money in a block of ice. Keep all wealth frozen in a block of ice.

Ophiuchus: Maybe your prayers would be answered if your god wasn’t such a pussy.

Gemini: Limited options make choices easier! There are only so many places you can get a human heart!

Taurus: Remember, now matter how many false eyes something might have, at least one of them has to be real. It boils down to a question of bullets over time.

Libra: When others can’t decide, you will be there to make the tough choices with your brave disregard for things like “Rational Thought” and “Basic Self-preservation”.

Virgo: Ribs are important. Make sure you have a good grasp on the importance of ribs.

Pisces: Your constant near death experiences may be putting you under some stress. Time for some light reading, or maybe some breathing exercises. Honestly the stars say you’re handling constantly being faced with your own mortality pretty well.

Aries: After hearing that cursed song today, you’ll only destroy 80% of the objects around you. Recovery is a slow process.

Cancer: There is an aggression to you today. There is an aggression to you all the time. There is an aggression to all things, it is simply your turn on the wheel.

Leo: The hunger you feel is not for food.

Capricorn: Woo her. She is terrifying isn’t she?

Gemini: You are hunting the guy down seven years later and bashing his knees in with a pipe.

Capricorn: What happens when you open a door marked “exit” and all you find is another hallway?

Ophiuchus: Nothing makes a friendship like shared intense suffering.

Taurus: Analog recording devices are surprisingly sensitive. Listen to your old tapes again and hear the tiny voices that whisper along with the song.

Taurus: Clawing your way back out has dulled your talons and blunted your fangs, you are a soft and gentle creature for it. You can buy a knife at most stores.

Sagittarius: When you needed patience, you thought of those who loved you. When you needed fury, you thought of those who hurt you. When you needed strength, you thought of yourself. When you needed just one more chance to get it right, you thought of that cat.

Libra: Keep a journal and write down everything you see, it may save the life of whoever finds it.

Libra: Did you feel it? Just now, the world ended. There's no going back. Saddle up and find a mask.

Leo: The night is long, the tea is hot, the eyes are plenty.

Ophiuchus: Your eyes can’t lie to you if you don't have any eyes.

Aries: Now is the time to try new things! Experience new forms of pain! Suffer in new and interesting ways!

Cancer: Someone is missing from that big social meeting you’ve got planned! Luckily they were just preoccupied with being suspended in limbo between life and death.

Libra: If someone says they have power over you, don't believe them until you see for yourself. Test those limits.

Aquarius: The danger you pose to others is dwarfed by your ability and desire to help. Nothing is without its dangers. You know this more than anyone.

Taurus: Turn some of your energy towards improving the space around you, especially if the space around you is bad and the energy is heat. Burn your house down.

Virgo: The stars say an authority member might be causing you some minor trouble. The important thing to remember during professional squabbles is to use your psychic powers to rip them apart with the strength of your will alone.

Taurus: It's a tough thing, allowing yourself to be known. The stars say the time may be coming up, are you ready? Too bad fucko, it's happening anyway.

Ophiuchus: Hiding under the covers actually works with some things. It is technically a threshold and so some things do actually have to be invited.

Cancer: Watch for a box that carries no address. Do not open it. It will be gone tomorrow.

Ophiuchus: Your choices are yours alone. This is important to remember, especially when not making choices.

Scorpio: Goddamit Goddamit shut the fuck up and tell a story.

Sagittarius: That could be you in a few years. Keep your feet about you.

Gemini: There is a deep and old power in that of the image. As long as cameras existed they have been a tool to tell what is really there.

[zims-left-shoe]

Agent Mothman (Dib x Male Reader)

Like most of my other fics, characters are aged up to high school. Plus, a friendly reminder that my request box is open!!

The silence was overwhelming. The pressure of everyone's collective held breath was almost palpable, your chest reactively tightening for no good reason. As you looked around you, eyes were wide, jaws were set and clenched in preparation to cringe. The only two who stuck out from the crowd were Zim and Dib, when did they not? Zim looked lost in thought, mind seemingly several thousand galaxies away, hands folded together neatly in front of his face, his chin resting on them. Dib, on the other hand, appeared to be over the whole ordeal. His posture was slouched as he stared ahead at the board through half-lidded eyes. As the quiet persisted, an anxious energy settled over your classmates (besides the two previously mentioned, of course). Eyes twitched, fingernails scraped the tables, feet began to tap restlessly on the floor.

"Y/n." The teacher finally spoke, bringing the whole class to sigh in relief, the building pressure suddenly released all at once. Many students leaned back in their chairs, high fiving each other. "Y/n, you will be partnered with Dib." You shrugged your shoulders as many looked to you in pity, some even whispering their sympathies. You had never aligned yourself with any group in particular throughout your school year. Granted, you were only a few months in, but you had switched schools so much you had learned to play the field. You avoided Dib considering his stigma, enabling you to be tolerated by the majority, however you were never mean to him. In fact, you rather liked him. You only chose to silently observe him rather than act upon your curiosity. 

"But wait, who's going to be paired with Zim?" You heard a student groan, everyone's breath being held once more. You let your gaze drift over to your partner. He seemed relieved, a slight smile settling on his lips. This was probably the best case scenario for everyone. No one else had to work with Dib, and you were the only one who never picked on him for being just a bit different. 

Once your teacher had finished reading names, you were all asked to sit with your partners. Without an ounce of reluctance, you sauntered over to Dib's otherwise empty table, taking one of the many available seats surrounding him. You needed to figure out a plan quickly, considering you only had one night to do the project. The project wasn't super taxing, in fact it seemed almost like busy work that would promote socialization at the same time, but it wasn't like your time frame was ideal. 

"Dib, right?" You held up your hand in a slight wave. "I don't think I've officially introduced myself. I'm Y/n."

"I know. The new kid who has no real friends yet is somehow still deemed acceptable by the popular kids? An anomaly for sure." Red painted his face, his eyes widening as he realized how his words may have came off as. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude. Or creepy. You know what? I'll just stop talking." An awkward chuckle escaped your lips as his eyes fell to his sneakers. After a slight pause, Dib spoke again, his tone much more reserved than before. "I can just do the whole project and you can put your name on it if you want. It's not that hard." He was giving you an out, not wanting to piss you off. Reaching an arm out, you slugged his shoulder lightly.

"Nah, come on. I don't roll that way. Besides, I want to hang out with you a little."

"You...want to hang out...with me?" Dib pointed a finger to himself, eyes wide behind his large glasses. An incredulous expression was etched into every single feature of his face, as if he couldn't believe those words left your mouth. 

"Yeah." After that syllable, the bell rang, dismissing you from school. You stood up, gathering your things. "Anyway, I'll be at your place after dinner. Just text me your address or whatever." You quickly scribbled your digits down on a scrap piece of paper that was laying around, passing it to him. "See ya!" You dashed away, sneaking one last glance back to see Dib still sitting in his chair, as still as a statue, not believing that this was even happening. 

Your stomach felt as if it was full of butterflies, and you couldn't shake the grin that had spread across your face as you began your walk home. 

God...he was even cuter than I thought... You were embarrassed by your own thoughts, pinching yourself on the arm. Truth was, you may or may not have been stalking him a little. He lived in your neighborhood, and you just couldn't help it. You had always been a hopeless romantic of sorts, and all it took was one look at him in class giving a presentation on the gremlin in his backyard and you were in love. You didn't even need his address, you knew where he lived, but you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable, so you asked for it anyway. Plus, it was a way to sneak him your number. And it wasn't as if you were actively trying to find out where he lived. It was pretty much impossible to ignore him and Zim screaming at each other as they ran back and forth between their houses all day. 

"This is going to be a long night." You sighed out, foot striking out to kick a rock, the satisfying skittering sounds it made calming your nerves a small amount. 

-

You drew in a deep breath as you brought your fist to the door, rapping on it a few times. Rocking back on your heels, you clutched your notebook and other supplies tightly to your chest, internally cringing at yourself. Everyone at school thought you were incredibly cool, but on the inside, you were just a lovesick gay who was overflowing with big dumb energy. The door swung open, bringing you to jump and be pulled from your motivational speech that was being given inside your head. 

"Come on in. I'm surprised you showed up." Dib stepped aside to let you in, gesturing past the living room to the kitchen where a purple-haired girl sat at a table, picking at the remaining food on her plate. A floating monitor hovered near the table as well. "We're just finishing dinner, but you can follow me if you want." Nodding, you padded behind the social outcast wordlessly, taking a seat next to him at the table. "Gaz, this is Y/n, my partner for my project. Y/n, this is my sister Gaz."

"Hey." You waved to the girl. Her expression remained squinty as she continued to pick at her food, eyes dancing between her plate and a Game Slave which was charging on the counter. 

"Whatever." She grumbled, never even directly acknowledging your existence once. You began to wonder if Dib was actually the most normal out of his entire family, which was saying something. Dib awkwardly cleared his throat as he pointed to the floating monitor, which displayed a man in a lab coat and goggles furiously working on something. 

"Oh, and this is my dad. He's at work right now, like usual. When he can't be with us for dinner, he either videocalls us from his lab or plays a pre-recorded video reminding us of chores and dinner instructions." Despite how sad the things he had just said sounded, not an ounce of bitterness was up for display on his face. Instead, his eyes shone with pride, happy to have a dad who was making a difference in the world, even if he could never really be a conventional father. "Anyway, just let me clean up and then we can get to work." Dib stood up, bringing his own plate over to the sink and running it under water, placing it in in its respective place in the dishwasher afterwards. Waving for you to follow him, he led you down the hall to a room that was clearly his. The door was covered in posters and stickers of aliens and other supernatural creatures, a good sized "Keep Out" sign the centerpiece. You wondered what would be inside, becoming excited. You figured you were the first person besides his own family to be seeing his room. He twisted the knob, casually pushing the door open, allowing you to step inside. 

"Wow..." You trailed off as you glanced around. There was so much to look at. Your eyes darted from one thing to the next, barely able to take it all in. There were several computer monitors surrounding a desk that was littered in papers and catalogues for supernatural hunting items, a few prototypes of possibly his dad's inventions scattered there as well. His room was lined with posters of aliens and other entities, an important looking briefcase thrown haphazardly onto his bed. The one thing that held your gaze the longest was a ginormous cork board. Several photos, drawings, diagrams, and hurried scribbles of notes were tacked up there, filling it to the max. Each paper was connected with color coded strings, things circled in colored pen seemingly at random, although you knew better. It was the definition of organized chaos. In large, bold, red letters, one word was scrawled on a paper at the top of the board: ZIM.

"I'm sorry, I tried to clean it as best I could. It's still kind of a mess." Dib hurriedly stacked papers together on his desk, trying to make it look presentable. 

"It's fine, don't worry about it. You should see my room. Half of my shit isn't even out of boxes yet, and we moved in months ago." You laughed, sitting down on his floor. "So, alien invasion, huh? Isn't Zim that kid with the skin condition?" You asked, gesturing to his cork board. His shoulders tensed as he unplugged his computer and brought it down to the ground, taking a seat beside you.

"Could we just get to work? Please?" He seemed to want to sweep that subject under the rug, and you decided that you would let him.

"Okay...so anyway, this research poster. You got a topic in mind?" Your prompt drew him out of his unsociable shell, albeit hesitantly. 

"Personally, I was thinking Area 51, but if you wanted to do something else..." He genuinely appeared to not want to upset you, despite usually not caring about how he came off to others. 

"That sounds great, Dib. Interesting too. You think they're really hiding aliens there?" Laying down on your stomach, you rested your face in the palms of your hands, gearing up for a long talk. A smile crept onto your face as immediately his eyes lit up.

"I'm glad you asked."

-

"I think we have the essentials. Now we just need to get them onto the poster, which is probably the most time consuming part." Dib stretched his arms towards the ceiling while you yawned and cracked your back. You didn't know how long you had been sitting on the floor for, but a glance to the clock by his bed told you it was 8:01 pm. The two of you had spent the last couple of hours researching, organizing notes, and mainly just talking about yourselves. You had no idea why everyone constantly was ragging on him. You found him to be incredibly interesting and entertaining, hanging onto every single word he spoke. You weren't really sure if you believed in all of these supernatural creatures, but you also didn't think that they couldn't exist. 

"I think so too. You ready to start on the poster now?" Reaching out, you gathered the posterboard and construction paper Dib had brought in from his garage together.

"Yeah, in a minute. I have to use the bathroom and then see what Gaz is up to, I'll be back in a few." You hummed a response, Dib standing up and exiting, closing the door softly behind him. Deciding to take a closer look at the Zim conspiracy board, you pushed yourself to your feet, leaning close to try and decipher the grainy images. One in particular caught your eye. It wasn't in color, and everything seemed fairly blurry. Zim, or what was supposedly Zim, was hunched over something that looked to be a robot. Except, as you looked even closer, Zim seemed to have these buggish eyes and long, skinny antennae in place of his hair. Rubbing your eyes, you flopped down onto Dib's bed.

"God, I must be seeing things." You had managed to convince yourself that you had been staring at computer screens and papers for far too long, and that your eyes were playing tricks on you, showing you what Dib wanted you to see. Closing your eyes for a minute, the rise and fall of your chest turned slow and steady, and you could feel your grip on reality loosening. 

A ringtone of sorts snapped you back from your almost-doze, and at first you thought it was your phone, but after waking up a bit more, you realized it was coming from one of Dib's monitors. It appeared he was getting a call. The monitor showed nothing besides a logo of some sort of eye, as well as an option to accept the call or decline. Filled with curiosity, your feet took you to his desk where his monitor sat. You barely felt in control of your body as your finger swiped at the screen in the direction to accept the call.

"Agent Mothman-" The voice coming through the monitor was distorted, but you got the impression that it was on purpose. The image displayed was a dark silhouette of what seemed to be a man. "You're not Mothman."

"You mean that cryptid from West Virginia? No. I'm not." You took a seat in Dib's desk chair, which was very comfy. You assumed he spent a lot of time in it when he wasn't hanging out with Zim. 

"Who are you and what do you know?" The voice was menacing, and you vaguely wondered if Dib was involved in something more serious than you thought. Quirking an eyebrow, you tried to not let any miniscule amount of fear you were feeling show.

"I'm, we'll just say Agent, uh...Nessie." Feeling uncreative, your mind drifted to the Loch Ness Monster. 

"You're not Nessie either." 

"You got one of those too? Ugh, fine. What about Agent Chupacabra?"

"Well, no, but...you're not any agent we know of."

"But I could be! Agent Chupacabra reporting for duty!" You brought your hand up to your head stiffly in a mock salute.

"But you're not a member of the Swollen Eyeball! What are you doing on Mothman's computer?" 

"The Swollen what now?" You were smiling stupidly, only because you couldn't really grasp what the current situation was. 

"Hey, sorry, Gaz decided to hound me over drinking the last soda, so I took a little longer than I thought-" Dib opened the door to reveal you sitting in his desk chair, trying to look all spooky for the guy in the monitor. You thought he'd laugh at your stupidity, but he was not in the least bit amused. "OH MY GOD AGENT DARK BOOTY!" Slamming his room door, he darted over to where you were sitting, almost tripping and falling on his face. He made a strangled noise as he noticed the disappointed expression that rested on the silhouette's face.

"Who is your little friend, Agent Mothman?" The distorted voice was cold, and you could feel Dib almost shrink next to you.

"Listen, I can explain-"

"I thought we stressed secrecy, and the fact that you are not allowed to have outsiders sit in on our important meetings."

"Meeting?" All of a sudden, several of the other monitors sparked to life, various other silhouettes coming into view. Just in one glance, you could see that Dib wanted nothing more than to fade away into a cloud of space dust in that moment. You stayed silent, knowing that Dib was in some serious trouble because of you.

"We had a meeting at 8:30 pm sharp, Mothman. You knew this. And you had a friend over?" Dib's face, already pale, turned even more so. Any lighter, and you thought for sure he'd become a ghost on the spot. 

"I am so sorry, I had a school project, and he's my partner, I lost track of time." He looked absolutely helpless, and without a word, you stood up and gathered the poster supplies. Snapping back to his senses, he turned to you and began shoving you out of his room and herding you to the front door.

"Dib, I-"

"You really need to go!" There were no other words said between the two of you as he quite literally slammed the door in your face. A sigh slipped past your lips as you clutched your project items in your arms, dragging your feet across the pavement on your walk home. You lazily stumbled through your front door, mumbling a greeting to your parent(s) as you headed to your room, gearing yourself up to finish the project before morning. 

-

"Thank you to Y/n and Dib for their, erm, informative...presentation on Area 51. That was your last one, so enjoy your last five or so minutes of class." Your teacher went back to their desk as you and Dib retreated to your own table. You hadn't talked much since the incident last night, and quite frankly, you were tired from spending hours of your night creating the visual portion of your project. Dib's lips were tightly pressed together in a thin line, and you guessed there was something he wanted to get off his chest. 

"Look, Dib. If there's something you want to say to me, just do it. I'm sorry for answering your call, that was not a good move on my part, and I also apologize for getting you in trouble with your, uh...society." Running a hand through his dark hair, Dib shook his head.

"No, that was my bad. I forgot I had a meeting. I'm also really sorry for kicking you out and then forcing you to finish the project on your own." Your expression softened, unable to resist forgiving him.

"Yeah, that was kind of a dick move." You elbowed him jokingly, hoping he would loosen up now that bygones were bygones.

"No, seriously. How can I make it up to you?" He looked as if he wouldn't be taking no for an answer. He had gotten a taste of what having someone who genuinely enjoyed being around him was like, and he wasn't willing to let that go. A sly grin tugged at your lips, and almost immediately an idea came to mind.

"Consider yourself forgiven if you take me ghost hunting, or whatever it is you do." His shoulders tensed, but relaxed when he realized you weren't making fun of him. 

"Well, you're in luck. I just received a case file investigation last night on a bigfoot lead. I'll pick you up at eight, if that works?" His words were cautious, almost as if he still believed you were phishing.

"It's a date!" You cheered happily, already excited about getting to spend more time with him. A faint blush dusted his cheeks at your wordage.

"Of-Of course." He stammered out, grateful for the bell that rang not even a second after. 

"See you tonight, Dib!" You waved as you made your way home, wanting eight to come as fast as possible.

"He knows the project is over, right?" Torque Smacky raised an eyebrow, questioning Dib and wondering why someone as cool as you would be hanging around with a guy like Dib by choice. 

-

The doorbell rang, and you sprang up from where you sat on the couch, overjoyed to head out. Practically throwing open the door revealed Dib in all of his trench coat glory, albeit a bit nervous looking and sweaty. 

"Alright Mr. Mothman, where are we going?" You grabbed onto his arm, eventually linking it with your own. He cringed at the nickname, but resisted nothing else. 

"To the park. Apparently, some woman saw bigfoot there the other night. Also, fun fact, I saw bigfoot in my garage one time. He was using the belt sander." Your eyes widened, and you immediately realized why everyone called him crazy. You took it upon yourself to believe him. He obviously believed in himself, so why shouldn't you?

"Interesting. You see any other spooks in your time here?" He shrugged as you walked.

"I mean, I think a few ghosts and, well, aliens of course, but we've been over that. Also, I have vague memories of being abducted by aliens as a kid. I think they were trying to experiment on me to create some sort of genius super baby or something." You couldn't help the laughter that tumbled from your mouth. It wasn't necessarily laughing at him, more so that you weren't sure how else to respond. You didn't want to put him down, but at the same time, his story was very out there. And although you weren't 100% on board with the whole supernatural thing, you believed in him and his words. If that was his truth, you would stand by it. "You ever see anything supernatural?" You pointed a finger to yourself, as if to ask, 'me?'. 

"Well, I mean...I did live in West Virginia for a while when I was younger...a lot younger. And then we moved around a lot." Your eyes instinctively narrowed as you tried to recall those times with you and your neighborhood friends. "And, you know, Mothman was like the local legend. He's basically a celebrity down there."

"No way! Did you actually, like, see him?" If you didn't already have it, you sure had his full attention now. 

"No. I believed in him for a while, but we never saw him, and as I got older and distanced myself from there, I just kind of figured it was bullshit. My friends and I, we would go out at night trying to hunt for him with flashlights and stuff. Sometimes we'd bring lamps onto the porch and plug them in, building little 'Welcome, Mothman' forts to sleep in." You chuckled, remembering how much you had believed in all the spookies and specters as a child. 

"That's adorable." Dib's lips were parted in a smile as he continued to lead you deeper into the park. You weren't sure when you had actually gotten there, but you weren't really paying much attention.

"Well, maybe we could do that together some time. I know Mothman isn't really big in this part of the country, but who knows. Maybe he'll come." Softly bumping Dib in the side, you were pleased to see his smile only grow. 

"I'd like that." The nice moment was interrupted by rustling of the trees, and Dib turned on his flashlight, pointing it to the treetops. "There!"

"I thought bigfoot was more on the ground!" You called as you raced after him. You both came to a grinding halt, your feet skidding in the grass to try and avoid ramming straight into Dib's back. The boy you were with aggressively pointed his flashlight into the tree, resulting in a loud hiss from whatever was up there. "Maybe it's just a cat, Dib!" You tried to pull him away, not really liking how riled up he was at the moment.

"Zim! What are you doing here?! What evil things are you planning?" 

"Zim?" You looked upwards, following the beam of the flashlight. Sure enough, there was a green body hunched in a tree branch, a robot of some sort next to him. 

"None of your business, Dib-stink!" Zim spat, turning to face your friend. It was then you got a good look at his face. It wasn't the slightly abnormal one you were used to seeing every day. His eyes were red and buglike, sleek, black antennae sprouting from his head. 

"Holy shit, Dib. You're not crazy." You flicked your flashlight on as well, aiming it at who you thought was your classmate. "He really is an alien!" A strangled cry came from the alien sitting atop the tree branch.

"GIR! Do something!"

"Yes, master!" The once cheerful-looking robot suddenly turned much more serious, dropping down from the branch to where the two of you were standing. You yelped, unsure of what this thing was capable of.

"Relax, his robot is pretty much usele-" Dib began, but his sentence came to an abrupt end when several missals and other weapons emerged from his head. 

"How do you like GIR's new adjustments, Dib? I finally got his behavioral chip fixed to where he's responsive, but not too serious." Zim smirked, and with the point of one of his clawed fingers, his robot was on the two of you. 

Simultaneously, both of you let out a scream, reaching desperately for each other's hands as you ran for your lives back to Dib's place. Your feet pounded the pavement, lungs feeling as if someone was raking knives down your throat and organs, yet despite all that, you both refused to look back. Only when you were on his porch did you feel comfortable sneaking a glace behind you, only to find an empty street lit up by streetlights. Breathing heavily, the two of you leaned on each other for support. Dib looked very worse for wear. He didn't seem to be too athletically inclined. 

"I think...we lost him..." You spoke between gasps for air, grinning all the while. He nodded vigorously, still wheezing. After the two of you had regained your breath, you both managed to catch each other's gaze. You felt every portion of your brain that was in charge of thinking shut down as you leaned in closer to him. You were barely even aware of what you were doing as you pressed your lips to his. His eyes looked as if they were about to burst from his skull, but after a moment, they eased shut as he relaxed into the kiss. You pulled away, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, almost as if your face was on fire. Your stomach was tied in too many knots to even look at Dib, but if you had, you would have seen that he wasn't fairing much better. In fact, he was probably in worse condition. "Thanks for the night of fun, Agent Mothman."

"Uh-huh." He mumbled out, and his brain looked miles away. You decided just to go home before you did or said anything else that could be classified as stupid. As you power-walked away, Dib's hand found its way to his lips, where the feeling and warmth of your own still lingered.

[delicatenightstarlight]

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By Devika Singh

[strings-have-been-cut]

Building off that anger headcanon, what did you think of The Most Toys?

see the original post here

Buckle up. 

There are so many levels to this episode. It's very interesting that you would connect this one to anger - I’m sure many people do! As an audience member, I believe I'm meant to feel anger - outrage at how Data is treated, at the insufferable nature of Fajo, at all the unnecessary murders... but I don't believe Data would be inherently angry about any of it, at least not in the moment.

Data absolutely disapproves of Fajo's actions. He holds unique and historically significant artwork and inventions in very high regard. This is mentioned many times throughout the series, but the quote that comes to mind is in ‘Measure of a Man’ when he tells Maddox that something ‘unique and wonderful’ will be lost if Data himself is lost (I have a whoooole other lot of feelings about this conversation.) Fajo obviously appreciates the same things, he sees them as something to be possessed while Data believes they should be preserved and shared so others may learn from them. Aside from this, it is clear he acquired the objects the same way he acquired Data - illegally - which clearly Data disagrees with. 

Fajo seems to be just the sort of man Data strives not to be. He has no moral code and no regard for others. Fajo refuses to obey Federation law, shows no remorse at all for anything he’s done, and seems to be able to outsmart Data enough to prevent him from escaping. Already, this marks Fajo as an enemy of the Federation and someone Data may be forced to defend himself against.

“Captivity” was an accurate description. Not only is Data physically unable to leave the room, any silent protest results in Fajo threatening his employees. Allowing an innocent life to be taken on his behalf goes against his programming and moral code. He does not have the choice to kill Fajo for the force field around him, and I don't believe he would have anyway, especially not at the risk of harming someone else.

When Varria becomes involved he seems to have more of a reason to risk himself. She’s clearly being mistreated by Fajo and being used to blackmail Data into cooperation. When she asks him to take her with him, his first thought is to warn her of the possible consequences. He seems mainly concerned with her safety.

At no time does Data seem concerned with how he is being treated. He only says that he is being held against his wishes and that he does not desire to wear the purple outfit or to sit in the chair. He refers to his situation as "imprisonment" and "captivity", but does not protest being treated as an object or comment that the only other living thing in the collection is an animal. He does say to Fajo that “most intelligent lifeforms find involuntary confinement offensive and inequitable��, but doesn’t go beyond that. Basically, he knows it’s wrong, but doesn’t complain beyond reminding Fajo that what was happening would be wrong to anyone in his position. He doesn’t take it as a personal offense.

I think he is used to being viewed as an object. The number of times in his life he must have brushed off being called an object - if the entire second season of interactions with Pulaski isn’t proof enough - perhaps he just stopped arguing it. If he thought pointing out that he is a living being would have helped his case, he might have mentioned it, but in his conversation with Varia, a parallel is made between the two of them - Fajo "has them both". Not only is he aware that Fajo views him as an object, he does not think it's worth it to try and convince him otherwise. This seems to be a trend. He doesn't try to take the time to convince people of his personhood so long as they show him a semblance of respect. Maybe it is a battle he has spent too much time fighting and he doesn’t see a point anymore.

The final scene shows Data making the fire upon Fajo right before being transported, leading the audience to believe he has chosen to kill Fajo. I could see how some people might interpret this as anger. I always have taken Data's comment at face value. Just before being transported, he tells Fajo," I cannot permit this to continue." Several things could occur to him in this moment. If Fajo refused to turn himself over, he would most likely continue killing people for his own gain. He would continue to mistreat those in his debt. He could possibly kidnap other individuals and hold them against their will.

Do I believe Data was motivated by anger? No. I believe stopping Fajo was a choice made by the same logic he uses to employ the safety of others on a daily basis. I also believe his thoughts on the use of force have changed. At the start of the episode, he tells Fajo that he is "designed with a fundamental respect for life... and a strong inhibition against causing harm to living beings." I believe this evolves from "hurt no one" to an ideology similar to "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one". Data decides that the potential lives at stake are too important to allow risking Fajo's escape. 

Why he hides it from Riker, I don’t know. Maybe he believes he will be judged harshly for making the choice he did. Maybe he thinks Riker will not understand why he chose to do it and will assume it was a malfunction. Maybe he believes he came to the wrong conclusion and he should not have fired and sees this as an opportunity to amend his mistake. 

[and-damntheconsequences]

Ooh can I have some Merlin headcanons please? Maybe about his mental health and how living that long would affect him? Danke!

Ooh interesting. Yes you can, and thank you for the ask 💞💕

These are like, all post-canon based, but here you go:

~ The paranoia he developed through S5 over trying to protect Arthur didn't disappear after Arthur died. That fear had become such a key part of him it couldn't just go away.

~ Instead it morphed into fear of failing Camelot. He decided that protecting Arthur's legacy was his "new" destiny, and focused all his attention to that, which meant he couldn't give himself the chance to step back and forgive himself for what happened. He didn't heal.

~ When Camelot eventually fell, it broke him just as much as Arthur's death had, but this time there was no outlet, and he fell into heavy depression, and essentially vanished from society for several full decades. It was Aithusa who eventually came to find him, and gave him some sort of purpose to hold onto.

~ He tried to protect the people of "Albion" even as it stopped being called that, out of respect for what Arthur would have wanted him to do. His life was still heavily focused on Arthur to the point of obsession.

~ Every time terrible things happened that he couldn't prevent (invasions, executions, wars, disasters, etc) he took the failure very personally.

~ There was a period of time, shortly after Aithusa's death, where he considered using magic to change his memories, or destroy his mind. He'd go insane, but he wouldn't remember all the pain. The only reason he didn't do this is because he still had some hope that Arthur might come back, and Arthur would need him. He wasn't ready to give up on him yet.

~ During the Enlightenment, he studied in the medical fields, and worked as a doctor, using magic to heal people and keep them safe. He was healing, and learning that he wasn't just for Arthur, or even just for others. He could have purpose. Yes, he'd started healing lots before, but with every new disaster, had fallen into self destructive ways of thinking. The Enlightenment was probably when he was happiest overall since Camelot fell, in terms of his own outlook on his life and his purpose. Because it was a time of discovery and also let him help people more.

~ However, I also think it's very likely he fell victim to the drug culture in Victorian England, after the invention of the hypodermic needle and importation of many new drugs. I don't know much about drug abuse so I won't say much on that, but that was likely a very tough and difficult time for him, and he was glad more than anything that Arthur never saw him like that.

~ That would also mean that he would have fully recovered from that, to the start of two world wars.

~ He would suffer from incredibly significant PTSD and trauma, and I don't think magic would be able to fix that. Though I do think his magic would have to have some sort of impact and help keep him somewhat stable because otherwise it wouldn't have taken long for him to completely fall apart mentally, and I'm not sure I can emotionally deal with the idea of Arthur finding him like that...

~ I also hc that he was deeply afraid of fire after the witch trials and the burning times, which peaked in the 16th and 17th centuries. I think he would have had an active role in trying to save people there, sometimes succeeding and sometimes failing with horrible consequences. After that ended, he was left unable to look at fire, or sleep at night with fire around him. He lived in complete darkness every night after sundown, until the invention of the lightbulb.

I hope those kind of fit. I've talked about Merlin in the Burning Times before just because I think that with the links to magic that would be an interesting (though horrible) concept. I'd hope that his magic would help his mind somewhat, otherwise there's no way he'd cope, but his mental health is going to be horrifically suffering whatever happens...

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 18

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Leo's life is hard (but maybe there's some hope left).

A/N: Yay, time for a new chapter! I decided to make Friday my new posting day so that’s when the future updates will (hopefully) happen.

It's not time to resolve the previous drama quite yet but dw, that's coming! Meanwhile, I hope you'll enjoy this Leo centered chapter. It’s also time to bring Frank in!

Don't forget to let me know what you think! :)

Characters in this ch: Leo, Frank, Georgina, Jo, Emmie

Words: 1700+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / next chapter / AO3

...

“Maldita sea!” Leo yelled at himself as his wrench flew at the wall, thankfully not causing damage to it. Nothing he tried to fix or build that day seemed to go right. He hadn’t been able to figure out a pretty basic seeming issue in someone’s phone, one of his own inventions had broken and even solving a physics problem that would usually have managed to distract him only felt frustrating.

There was a lot going on in Leo’s head. Well, he’d argue that he always had a lot going on there due to his ADHD, but this time his usual methods to calm himself down didn’t seem to work. He would probably have to quit studying the only field he was truly interested in. He couldn’t do his work. His flatmate for whom he may or may not have started slowly developing some very not flatmate appropriate feelings had apparently had a thing for his friend, which not only complicated Leo’s situation with Calypso but also with Percy. And his mother’s death anniversary was coming, which was always a hard time for him. Leo imagined she’d probably be so disappointed if she saw him now. ‘My son, a failure in every aspect of life’. No, Leo’s real mother had been way too nice to actually say something like that out loud, but he just knew she’d at least think that. And Jo, Emmie and Georgina were counting on him too.

After throwing the wrench, Leo decided to take a break because his hands had started shaking too much to continue working. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against his worktable, closed his eyes and started tapping a rhythm that he had memorized years ago. His mother had taught him Morse code when he was a kid, and this particular phrase was one she had used a lot when he had needed calming down. Written down, the code looked like this:

.. .-.. --- ...- . -.-- --- ..-

I l o v e y o u

He whispered it very quietly a couple of times before looking out from the window and saying aloud:

“Mom. I’m trying to be strong. I really am. But sometimes it just gets too fucking hard. Everything seemed to be fine. Really. My other family is great. I was studying something I actually cared about. My new flatmate… uh, she’s an interesting force of nature. But if she likes someone like Percy… I’d never have a chance. And all my career plans are about to run down to the sewers because I can’t use fire, in any way. Not because of what happened to you. Because of what I... I just feel lost.”

He took a deep breath and rubbed the corner of his eye dry quickly. Saying his thoughts aloud seemed to make him feel a little bit better, and he decided that maybe getting out of the flat and getting some exercise would help with the shakiness. To his relief Calypso wasn’t home either so he didn’t have to answer any awkward questions about why he looked like such a mess. Leo found himself jogging all the way to Waystation, which was several miles from his flat. As he reached the yard, he noticed Georgina with Festus, but even with her back to him he could sense something was wrong. Of course. There was always some way the day could get even worse.

“Hi, hermanita!” he started, trying to sound cheerful even though he didn’t think he was a very good actor. Georgie could probably see right through him. His suspicions were confirmed when Festus didn’t even run to greet him as he usually did. “What’s going on?”

“I tried to call you,” she said, hiding her worry badly. “Moms went to run some errands and something… something happened to him…”

“What do you mean? What exactly happened?” Leo insisted on knowing.

Georgina seemed to grow more and more upset each moment. “I… I gave him a bully stick… but I forgot to put it in a holder even though moms always say you should do that when you give him one because he always tries to swallow them so fast… And then he started feeling sick...”

To prove her point, Festus, who was laying on the ground, made a loud gagging sound. After that he tried to whine but even that didn’t sound like it usually did.

Leo’s ADHD kicked immediately in, in the form of him wanting to act fast.

“We’ll discuss this later, I need to borrow Jo’s car now that I can take him to the vet,” he exclaimed and ran inside the house to get the keys to the car from the spot Jo usually kept them. He picked them and Festus’ leash and ran back, telling Georgina to stay home to tell Jo and Emmie what happened when they’d return.

At least one thing went right that day: the emergency vet clinic was fairly quiet when Leo arrived there. Not long after that, the vet took Festus in. He had an intern with him; a young man who Leo suspected had his roots somewhere in East Asia. He had black, short hair, a bulky body and kind of child like face even though the intern was probably older than Leo. As the vet asked Leo some questions about what exactly had happened to Festus, the student wrote down some notes and occasionally added a short comment as well. When Leo was about to explain why exactly Festus had gotten issues with the bully stick, he heard the intern mutter something to himself.

“What was that?” Leo asked a bit more aggressively than he had planned, having already been stressed even before the issue with Festus had come up. He had to admit, though, that it had distracted him from the other issues.

“Nothing,” the intern quickly said, pretending to focus on his papers again.

Leo didn’t give up that easily. “I heard you, though. You were implying that I had somehow caused this.”

“Well, you did give him the bully stick, didn’t you?” the young man asked.

“I wasn’t even there when he got one!” Leo growled, starting to feel the frustrations from earlier that day flooding out of his system. “My… uh, little sister gave him one when our parents left to run some errands and he kept whining and wanted something to chew! It wasn’t her fault either, she’s a child and she didn’t know that could happen!”

“Mister Valdez, please calm down a bit,” the vet interrupted him, and Leo immediately shut up. “There’s no need to yell. Festus is going to be just fine; I’m going to give him some medicine and fluids to help with digesting the stick and we can watch how he’s doing overnight. And Frank, please don’t make assumptions like that about clients.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank said, to Leo’s surprise actually looking regretful. Then he turned to Leo. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Nah, I kinda lost my cool there too…” Leo said, the frustration leaving when he saw Frank’s face.

“Kinda,” the intern said, attempting to joke about the situation.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that;” Leo rubbed the back of his neck.

After that the vet asked Leo a couple of more questions and did some more examinations on Festus while Frank helped him.

“Other than this stick issue, he seems like a healthy dog,” the vet complimented after the check up. “His fur and teeth look good. I think you’ve been taking good care of him.”

“Well, to be honest he lives more with my parents than me because they have a lot more space…” Leo said, “But yeah, we all try our best. Even Georgina, my sister.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s a good thing you got him here that fast so he’ll get the best possible treatment,” The vet said.

After that he wrote some notes on the computer and then dismissed Leo who scratched Festus from behind his ear and promised to come back soon to get him. As he was putting his jean jacket on in the lobby, the intern, Frank, approached him.

“About what happened earlier, I really am sorry. It isn’t like me to attack clients; you can even ask my boss about that. I just…”

“Chill, man,” Leo said. “I’ve heard this story before. People assume things about me because I look like a problem teenager. Truth to be told? You’re not entirely wrong. But things have changed. And trust me, Festus is my best friend and I’d do anything for him. I’m sure Georgie has learned her lesson too now.”

“Good to hear that,” Frank said and extended his arm to Leo. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow when you’re coming to get Festus.”

Leo nodded. “Yep, I have a feeling my whole family will want to join me. Anyway, I’m off now. Thanks for the help!”

“I’m glad we could help!” Frank told him before he started walking towards his car.

...

Jo and Emmie had already returned to Waystation when Leo got there.

“Is everything OK?” Emmie asked immediately. “We didn’t really get much out of Georgina… Just that something had happened to Festus and you took him to the vet.”

“Nah, it’s gonna be fine!” Leo reassured her. “He got some digestion issues because he gobbled a bully stick too fast but that’s being taken care of now. Georgie sure remembers to be more careful from now on, won’t ya, hermanita?” he addressed the young girl then.

“I will…” she promised, not even protesting about the nickname this time.

Once Leo had explained with more details what had happened at the vet and it became clear that Festus would be fine soon, the family moved to other matters. Unlike usually, Leo was happy with mostly listening to the others. The incident had reminded him that there were bigger matters than girl issues or his studies and he realized that those things didn’t feel quite as hard to overcome now as a few hours ago. Yes, he still needed to deal with them, and yes, his past would probably never stop entirely haunting him, but when he had people like this around him? It wouldn’t be impossible.

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 1

-no hate (this is merely my humble opinion) but i strongly dislike tom hughes as tom riddle, and here’s why-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

Just personally, this fancast induces a lot of cognitive dissonance for me, but this is the first time I’ve been able to sit down and articulate properly why it always throws me for a loop.

Now, does he fit the visual/aesthetic archetype?

Yes. I understand completely why people like this fancast. We know that he is studious, intellectual, and (at the time people generally fancast him for) involved in the criminal underground, and he more-or-less fits the physical description.

And, to be clear, it’s not that I don’t think Tom Hughes could play Tom Riddle, it’s that I don’t think the character he plays in the fancasts is a close enough approximation of Tom Riddle.

For me, herein lies the issue.

Tom Riddle’s character is all about the emotions bubbling under the surface. He’s a disaster waiting to happen -- he’s angry, he’s lonely, he wants revenge, he feels empty and hopeless and desperate, he’s irrational...

Not sure what movie/show the Tom Hughes clips come from, but the character he plays isn’t that at all. the character he plays is very self-possessed, poised, self-aware. Reflective. Remorseful (there are clips of him crying when/after he shoots someone). Introspective. 

That, to me, is not Tom Riddle at all. 

Yes, he does deal with moral conflict, but it’s never at the forefront of his mind. It’s not something he’s constantly grappling with. He doesn’t really... brood in this Hamlet-esque way.

Tom doesn’t think. Sure, he plans, he ruminates, he rationalizes a posteriori. But he’s very unaware of himself (in fact, it’s one of his fatal flaws). It’s not that he doesn’t have emotions; just that his internal state is a mystery most of the time.

He doesn’t connect with his own emotions; he is completely estranged from them. Tom cannot tell you whether he is happy or sad (not just because of his pride). He keeps his emotions and moral compass (which are highly uncomfortable things), in a locked little box, swallows the key, and disregards them. And yet, this character connects so deeply with his emotions that even the audience can see exactly what he’s going through. 

(There’s an openness -- an ease of vulnerability -- that Tom Riddle doesn’t have)

The thing about Tom, is that he hates himself just as much as he hates everyone around him. Creating Horcruxes to save himself from death is not an act of self-love, or even narcissism to the extreme; instead, forcibly ripping your own soul seven times is the most literally and metaphorically self-destructive thing a person could possibly do.

"Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction —"

If we go all the way back to Book 1, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, you’ll remember that the eponymous material (first described in the Epic of Gilgamesh) is capable of producing the Elixir of Life, a magical substance that makes its drinker immortal, as long as you have a steady supply. Not only that, but according to the beliefs of historical alchemists (such as Nicholas Flamel), it was capable of curing any disease. In the alchemical tradition, it symbolized perfection, enlightenment, and heavenly bliss.

If all Tom Riddle was concerned about was prolonging his life, this is the obvious (and better) option.

Here’s the alchemical symbol of the Philosopher’s Stone. Looks kind of like the Deathly Hallows symbol, right? It represents the interplay of the (at the time, believed) four elements of matter -- a sort of periodic table, if you will.

The mature Philosopher’s Stone was believed to be a red stone (for making gold), and the immature one a white stone (for making silver). Rubeus Hagrid and Albus Dumbledore, anyone??

"So he's made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people?" said Harry. "Why couldn't he make a Sorcerer's Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in immortality?"

And Dumbledore responds:

"But there are several reasons why, I think, a Sorcerer's Stone would appeal less than Horcruxes to Lord Voldemort.”

"While the Elixir of Life does indeed extend life, it must be drunk regularly, for all eternity, if the drinker is to maintain the immortality. Therefore, Voldemort would be entirely dependent on the Elixir, and if it ran out, or was contaminated, or if the Stone was stolen, he would die just like any other man. Voldemort likes to operate alone, remember. I believe that he would have found the thought of being dependent, even on the Elixir, intolerable...”

And while, yes, he did try to steal it rather than make it, I am sure that in the time it took Tom to make all of his Horcruxes, he could have learned enough alchemy to produce it for himself (or wheedled the information out of Nicholas Flamel). While Dumbledore hypothesizes that it’s because Tom hates feeling dependent, this must be irony, because he spends the first book as a literal parasite, the next three as a virtually helpless creature, and the remainder still reliant on his Horcruxes.

"Well, you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."

But, like me, Dumbledore is making guesses at Tom Riddle’s internal state, and in this case, I think, he’s made an oversight. Horcruxes make him equally as dependent as the Philosopher’s Stone would have. It’s been established in canon that you cannot make yourself immortal without help; either you rely on the continued existence of your Horcruxes or your supply of the Elixir.

And while the Elixir represents the positive aspects of eternal life, like renewal, rebirth, and the cyclical nature of the universe (see above the ouroboros of Cleopatra the Alchemist, one of the four women who knew how to make the philosopher's stone), a Horcrux is antithetical to life. It represents disorder, and once the creator of Horcruxes dies, they are unable to move on from Limbo -- shut out of the cycle. Harry describes Tom’s mangled soul as looking like a flayed and mutilated baby -- permanently immature and stagnant.

This theme of destruction is furthered by the Golden Trio’s discussion on how to reverse the process:

Ron: "Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?"

Hermione: "Yes, but it would be excruciatingly painful."

Harry: "Why? How do you do it?"

Hermione: "Remorse. You've got to really feel what you've done. There’s a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you. I can’t see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?"

With this in mind, we can surmise that Tom is either (a) impatient, which we know he is not (b) there was some deeper reason for favouring Horcruxes -- so, yes, I believe that either metaphorically or literally, this was self-harming behaviour.

He takes on the name of Lord Voldemort because he hates himself, Tom Marvolo Riddle. He hates the Muggle part of himself so much that he’s willing to tear apart his entire being. 

"Voldemort, is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."

If that isn’t renouncement of himself, I don’t know what is. He was clearly not born Voldemort.

While of course, this does NOT excuse ANY of his actions, I find it vastly implausible that the likes of Malfoy, Mulciber, Carrow, etc... would have been welcoming in any way, shape or form to an assumed ‘Mudblood’ in scruffy secondhand robes from a London orphanage, and as such, indoctrinated him into his fanatic belief in blood-purity via antagonizing him. 

(Imagine Hermione, but poor and without parents, in the 1930s/40s. She would not have been treated well in Slytherin, either.)

Children are more vicious than you think. And while Tom probably gave as good as he got at Wool’s Orphanage (and was possibly an active aggressor himself), Hogwarts wouldn’t have been a level playing-field. (I’ll talk a bit about this and the significance of the Gaunt Ring in Part 2).

In other terms, I think Tom was bullied for having dubious origins. That’s often the swiftest way to radicalize someone, and would have left Tom with a crippling sense of self-hatred that I don’t think he would have even picked up from the orphanage.

(And it’s possibly this early experience with relational aggression that results in his constant need to be on the offensive/defensive, distrust of others, and fear of vulnerability. To me, this is an archetypal response of someone who was a past victim of bullying.)

Why else would an extremely powerful half-blood subscribe so strongly to those beliefs? (Rather than discriminating via amount of raw power or something -- because what Tom is immensely proud of when Dumbledore meets him is his ability, not his parentage). But I digress.

Now, Tom Riddle is never, ever quietly menacing like this. The mask is either completely on or completely off. We never see this character angry. Tom Riddle, when the mask slips off, is fury incarnate. Anger is the one emotion he doesn’t find weak; the one emotion he’s completely and utterly honest with.

Besides, that brings me to my next point. Tom’s not quite so austere. In fact, he’s quite witty, and often quite pleased with himself.

Just look at the difference in their body language. Tom has much more fluidity (he’s circling Harry, the head-tilt, the eyebrows move and he smiles a bit) than the other character, who has so much tension. Yes, they’re both menacing, but in completely different ways. Tom is comfortable with his actions, no matter how shitty they are. This other guy doesn’t like doing what he’s doing, but he’s going to do it, anyway.

Contrasted with the above, Tom’s unawareness of himself is such that we end up with a character who has a bizarre mix of extreme self-hatred and high self-esteem -- he always believes he is in the right -- in this case, doing Salazar Slytherin’s noble work -- while going to extreme, self-destructive lengths, such as tearing himself in half at the mere age of sixteen.

So, sorry... I kind of get the appeal, but... I don’t like the fancast. 

(More unpopular opinions coming at 5:30 PM EDT tomorrow!)

[singledarkshade]

New Old Friend

Part Three

(Part One and Part Two can be found here) Jack grimaced as he listened to the tenth complaint phone call in a row about power outages. Glancing over to where Jo sat, he saw she was listening to something very similar.

“Okay, Mr Fredrickson,” Jack said, finally managing to get a word in, “We’ll look into it.”

Hanging up he sighed, waiting for Jo to finish her conversation.

“Call Henry?” Jo asked the moment she’d hung up.

“Please,” Jack clasped his hands together. He headed over to their small chalkboard they had and cleaned it. He updated it to read, ‘0 days since something weird has happened.’ They’d never made it to 4 days never mind a full week.

Jo appeared at his side and handed him the phone, “Henry.”

“Henry,” Jack said the instant he took the phone, “We’ve had calls that there are a lot of power surges and outages around town. Tell me it’s not you.”

There was a pause before the other man replied, “Not from anything I have going on just now.”

Jack sighed, “Damn. That means GD is more than likely to be the culprit. I might need your expertise while I check this out.”

“We’ll meet you there,” Henry said before hanging up.

Frowning slightly, Jack mused, “We?”

Henry hung up the phone turning to where Rip and Gideon were scanning over some of his inventions. The AI was impressive but also very opinionated.

Henry loved her.

“Problem?” Rip asked.

Henry nodded, “I think your shard may be causing some power problems in town. I’m heading to Global Dynamics. Feel like coming along?”

Rip smiled interested, “I assume I have the credentials.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Henry tried to look offended but didn’t quite manage to get rid of his smile, “Your ID badge is in the wallet I gave you.”

Gideon frowned, “I assume I will be turned off.”

Rip bit his lip at her tart inquiry as Henry turned to her.

“Actually no,” he smiled, “GD is used to people field testing their experiments. Although we might want to avoid Fargo, he is our current AI expert.”

Gideon smiled sweetly making Henry chuckle at how Rip rolled his eyes. Grabbing his coat Henry led them out to the truck. Rip climbed inside and Gideon appeared to sit between them.

Starting to drive, Henry smiled as he saw Gideon study their surroundings.

“Dr Deacon,” she said, “I am intrigued by the town. You stated that it was created for those with genius intelligence?”

Henry nodded, “Back in the fifties Albert Einstein and President Truman founded the town as a haven for the smartest people in the country. To give them a place to create and learn. It wasn’t much at first but soon the town grew.”

“It is a shame we do not have a place like this within our own universe,” Gideon noted thoughtfully, “It would have been a good place to relocate the children after we removed the Time Masters.”

Rip shrugged before musing, “It would be an interesting place to have grown up,” sadness filled his voice, “Or to raise a child.”

Gideon shook her head so Henry wouldn’t ask Rip anything, she didn’t say anything further simply watching the scenery fly by. Reaching GD, Henry was pleased by the soft impressed noise Rip made when he drove through the shield surrounding it.

“Hologrammatic shielding,” Rip noted, “Impressive.”

Henry nodded, “There are a lot of top-secret projects within this building, we need good security.”

“Of course,” Rip nodded, a small smirk on his face.

Henry frowned, “What?”

“I believe Captain Hunter has already worked out several ways to infiltrate this building,” Gideon noted amused.

Glancing at the other man, Henry frowned at the slight shrug, “Just try to refrain from doing anything that will get you thrown in federal prison. Or do you know how to escape from that too?”

Innocence covered Rip’s face as they climbed out the truck and started to the front door. Henry pulled out his security badge and motioned Rip to show his. The guard studied it for a second before turning to Gideon.

“She isn’t real,” Henry said before explaining Gideon was an ‘experiment’ Rip was working on.

Looking extremely impressed the guard motioned them inside and Henry led them to the rotunda. Turning he found Gideon glaring at him.

“I’m not real?” she demanded sharply.

“He didn’t mean it like that, Gideon,” Rip soothed, “It was a simple way to get past the guard without going into the technical specifications.” Giving a sniff she turned to look around and Rip shrugged, “She may forgive you sometime soon.”

Henry moved to stand in front of Gideon, “I am extremely sorry I called you not real, Gideon. I never intended to insult you.”

Gideon smiled and nodded graciously before turning to Rip, “You should be taking notes.”

Before Rip could retort a call came making them turn to see Jack jogging over to them.

 Jack Carter had the look of a man who knew he was about to step into an insane asylum, a look Rip often saw on his own face when dealing with the Legends.

“I called Alison,” Jack said as he reached them, “She should be meeting us soon.” He looked at Gideon and asked, “Who is this?”

“I am Gideon,” she replied, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sheriff.”

Jack moved to shake her hand stunned when it went through hers, “What?”

Henry laughed, “Sorry, Jack. Gideon is an AI, very advanced. Rip is testing an interface.”

Rip turned showing the disc attached to his temple, “Henry agreed to help me with the experiment.”

“What do you want, Carter?” a bored voice came from behind them.

Rip turned with the other two men to see a tall man with a sneer of superiority on his face walking with an elegant woman whose air of authority marked her as the boss.

“Nathan,” she scolded the man at her side before turning to them, “Carter, Henry and,” she paused at Rip, “Dr Hunter I presume.”

Rip nodded and took her offered hand, “Yes,” he said before adding, “And this is Gideon, my AI companion.”

“Dr Alison Blake,” she introduced herself to both of them, “Gideon, you are incredible.”

Gideon smiled back, “Thank you, Dr Blake.”

“Please don’t,” Rip muttered, “Her ego is big enough as it is.”

At Gideon’s sharp look he stared innocently at her.

“Dr Nathan Stark,” the final man introduced himself, “I’ve read your papers on Artificial Intelligence.”

A cough made them all turn to the Sheriff, who was standing waiting to explain why everyone has been called.

“Carter,” Alison turned to the Sheriff, “What do you need?”

Jack turned his attention from looking annoyed at the new man to Alison, “We’re getting reports all over town of power outages. I checked with Henry and it’s not him.”

“That’s some police work there, Carter,” Stark stated.

Irritation covered Jack’s face, but he continued, “We’ve gone over the other options in town and it’s not connected to any of them. So, here I am.”

Alison held up her hand to stop Stark from retorting, “We will check the list of projects to see if there is anything that could be causing the outages.”

“What about my favourite place, Section 5?” Jack demanded.

“That’s classified, Carter,” Stark stated, “As you know.”

“And as you know,” Jack retorted, “It’s usually the cause of all the problems.”

Alison sighed in annoyance, “Section 5 projects will be included in my check. Why don’t we head to my office?”

                                 *********************************************

 Gideon was fascinated by Global Dynamics. Not the humans, who were arguing as humans usually did while her Captain was sitting watching, taking in the dynamics and relationships between the people in the room.

The interface her Captain was wearing which allowed her to be seen by the people in this world, had the excellent side-effect of allowing Gideon to interact with the computer systems of this world.

And the Global Dynamics computers were fascinating. None were as advanced as she was of course, but for the period they were in, advanced enough.

She hadn’t informed her Captain of her new abilities just yet; he might insist she not pry too much into the information she should not be privy to. Considering all the things he’d had her hack in the past though, he had no way to complain but she felt it best to keep this information to herself for the moment.

Accessing all the files for the people in the room, Gideon was impressed by Dr Blake. Smart and independent, she was raising her son alone who himself was different. Dr Deacon, Gideon already liked but seeing his file she was very impressed, and in another life, he would have been taken as a Time Master. Sheriff Carter was not as conventionally smart as the others, but he had his own kind of intelligence and his file showed how many times he had saved the town.

Finally, was Dr Stark, who Gideon didn’t like at all. Yes, he was smart but in this room that wasn’t unusual, but he believed himself smarter than everyone else. Gideon had seen that arrogance before in Thawne, in Druce and so many others.

He was the type of person who could so easily fall into supervillainy if the right, or wrong, type of dominoes fell. It looked however that the people in the room with him kept him on the right side, if only just.

Scanning the systems, Gideon checked for the power issues to help the Sheriff. Going through all the projects, she was impressed by some of the things the scientists were studying although others were laughable but that was humans, eternally optimistic.

Continuing her way through the systems, Gideon turned to Rip.

“I need to speak to you privately,” Gideon said to him softly.

Confused Rip touched the interface and turned it off before he moved to the other side of the office away from the others.

“What is it?” he asked softly so he wasn’t overheard.

“I have checked the projects within Global Dynamics, and nothing could cause the power outages Sheriff Carter is investigating,” Gideon told him.

Rip frowned, “How…”

“The interface Dr Deacon created allows me to access the computers,” Gideon smiled at him, “Quite interesting.”

Rolling his eyes, Rip noted, “But I’m guessing that is not what you wanted to tell me.”

“Astute as always, Captain,” Gideon replied before telling him, “The shard is in a laboratory in the area known as Section Five. It appears safe at the moment but accessing it may be difficult.”

“Wonderful,” Rip sighed.

 Rip was surprised and extremely interested that Gideon could use the interface to access the computers, but it would likely be helpful to reach the shard. Henry motioned him to follow on as he and the Sheriff headed out the office.

“Well?” Rip asked Henry falling into step with the other two men.

“They’ll let us know,” Henry replied, as Jack let out an annoyed sigh.

They reached the exit and started to the cars. Glancing at Gideon, Rip shrugged, “It’s nothing in here that’s causing the power outages.”

Henry and Jack both stalled turning to Rip.

“How do you know that?” Jack demanded.

“Gideon,” Rip explained, “She had a quick check of the systems.”

Henry’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “The interface?”

“A small side-effect we didn’t expect,” Rip noted.

Jack chuckled, “Let’s not tell Alison or Stark about that but at least I won’t be wasting my time waiting for them.” He rested a hand on the top of his jeep, frowning in thought, “Okay, so there has to be a reason why the power in the town in going crazy.”

“Well, it has to be someone in town,” Henry noted, “But if it’s not a GD experiment, then it could be either an unsanctioned one or, even worse, a school project.”

Rip stared at them, “You’re kidding?”

Both men shook their heads, Jack adding, “I thought the same when I first came here but the kids are just as smart as the parents. Which means they can be just as much trouble.”

“Okay,” Henry said, “Let’s get back into town and make a plan.”

Jack nodded, “I’ll meet you both there.”

As the other man left, Henry and Rip climbed back into Henry’s truck. Rip reactivated the interface allowing Gideon to be seen by Henry once more.

“So,” Henry said as he began to drive, “Did you find anything else interesting while you wandered through the GD systems, Gideon?”

Innocence covered her face, “Why, Dr Deacon I am shocked you think I would look at things I am not authorised to access,” she told him.

A mischievous smile touched her lips making Henry laugh.