#but what kind of alias is jeff

[allhailbrokeloose]

[youuuimeanmee]

This chapter might be the start of literally the biggest thing ever and I'm SCARED.

I have SHIVERS.

Almost every important characters are gathering in one place.

Our Eden kids are finally playing outside the school.

For a spy like Twillight, this festival is literally a treasure of intels.

(Though, I was surprised when Twillight mention that Glooman Pharmaceuticals has no further connection with the Desmonds. I thought it's gonna be involved in some kind of drugs' development for war, but ig I was wrong.)

Remember how Twillight always look down on Anya because she can't study, she's hard to teach, and she doesn't excell in any sport or any other talents (except classical language)?

Now look at them.

Twillight finally sees just how valuable Anya is. How much Anya, a presumably six-year-old, has accomplished in the span of 6 months. I repeat. 6. months.

He's pleased because it's really convenient for his mission.

And yet, look at what Jeff wished for the kids.

The irony. The sweet, sweet irony.

As much as it pains him to acknowledge how right Jeff's words are, he cannot. He cannot dwell into such sentiments, because he's a spy. A spy must seize every opportunity to gain any information neccesary for his mission. For the sake of his goal; a world peace. For that goal, he will do anything. Even if he has to use his "daughter" and his "wife" for his own convenience.

Because of that, the very least he could to them is protect their well-being and happiness.

Twillight has established that since long ago. But will things change after this arc? That is the big question.

Now we are entering, what I call, "the fortune teller arc." (until we get a better name imma stick to this one.)

Somehow, in every series I've read that has a fortune teller in it, it ended up changes (read: fucks up) the MC's life forever.

I've been predicting the involvement of Crowley in the future; from his name reference, his hairstyle, his excellence in Classical language, everything.

Look whose name Endo uses for the most popular fortune teller.

Heh.

(will Arnold Crowley appear in next chapter? Will he meet Anya in this arc?)

And look at the star of this chapter, who also plays as a fortune teller!

Melinda Desmond.

Who would've thought.

Suddenly, her earrings and ring's design make so much sense.

Is it safe to say now that Crowley and Melinda Desmond are occultists?

Or maybe just one of them?

I know jumping to conclusion is dangerous, but I just can't help it.

I still can't speak if Melinda and Crowley family are related to each other because there's no evidence of their relation (yet). But I can at least tell you this:

Melinda probably uses fortune telling as a way to collect informations. Her ad speaks for poor, desperate people. She doesn't charge her clients for a single cent. Even if she already claimed that her predictions are way off, it doesn't matter for desperate people. Desperate people will use desperate means. Poor people are not poor because they wanted to. There must be a reason, a circumstances; that intel is probably what Melinda aims to get.

Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe Melinda is genuinely a noble person, and she's just trying to help as many people as possible with her "free" fortune telling. Who knows.

Though, it is peculiar to note that Melinda only started recently. How recent, I wonder. Is it before, or after the dinner she had with Donovan, her husband?

Hmmm.

I'm also curious at Endo's reference for Melinda's alias: Lunaluna Selena. Luna, as in, Latin for [the moon]? Selena, as in, Selene [the Greek & Roman's moon goddess]?

The moon, huh. Remember how Anya's power is heavily reliant on the moon? Like, she lost her power when it's a new moon?

Hmmmmm.

TLDR; Anya confessed to Damian that she can read minds. Now Anya enters a fortune teller place. Twillight used to underestimate Anya's ability a lot. Now he sees how valuable she is, yet, he is stuck between his logic (wanting to utilize her to the max) and his heart (wanting to free her from the burden of his mission and let her be a happy normal kid). Melinda and Yor are friends. Now they meet again, when Melinda is doing her side hustle. Arnold Crowley is a kid who excels in Classical Language, and holds a great interest in Anya. Now we see that Crowley family runs a popular fortune-teller. Melinda just had an awful dinner with Donovan. Now we see that she recently run a fortune-telling stall for free. Almost all important characters in SxF are gathering in one place. All build-ups are seemingly leading towards this moment.

Let's give Endo some space & time to cook, shall we.

[endataraxia]

sage forest mental institution.

chapter 3. in which you magically get unfucked. word count: 2.4k note: changed Reader's name to Y/N. doesn't hit the same lol.

So there you were, in the midst of four men. One behind a metal door holding you in place, one about to lunge for your neck, another who was encouraging the second one, and a fourth one whom you knew would do nothing to stop it.

The whirring of a machine.

“Stop,” a voice commanded, and all five of you turned to look at its source.

There stood—no, floated a man? Boy? His age was ambiguous and he seemed to be an apparition, because no way in hell was normal matter floating in the air. You could also practically see the camera behind him. (Did he pop out of the camera?)

Your first thought was, why is a Link cosplayer hovering in the air, and your second was, why is Link bleeding from his eyes?

“I just got ahold of Slender,” he announced lazily. Who the fuck is this Slender they keep talking about? “He says to bring the girl back. Alive. Mm-kay, gonna fuck off now.” As quickly as he appeared, he disappeared.

Jeff damn near threw a tantrum, before deciding he “doesn’t give a shit what the big man wants”, but strangely this time, Masky and Brian restrained him.

“Ugh, I forgot you fucks are walking microphones for Slendy,” he complained, throwing his head back as he groaned. “Fine, fine, it’s almost as if I’m not supposed to kill people nowadays.” You were left in awe at the amount of sarcasm in his voice.

“Free Toby,” commanded Masky. “And then we wait for him to bring us back. I’ll keep this one away from EJ.” He turns to the aforementioned Jeff. “Jeff, follow Hoodie and free Toby.” Jeff is strangely obedient and follows Brian, whose alias is apparently Hoodie, off to free this Toby, but grumbles nonetheless.

The grumbling grew quieter as Jeff and Hoodie walked away, leaving you in awkward silence with your captors. You felt Masky’s scrutinizing glare on you, so you cleared your throat and turn awkwardly to EJ, who now has an unhappy expression on his face, most likely grumpy that he couldn’t eat your kidneys or whatever.

“…Who’s that Link cosplayer and why is he floating?” You asked, then realize it might be unwise to speak now. Fortunately, the situation was forgiving enough, and EJ answered you.

“That is BEN. He sort of lives in dataspace.” You dared not pry further for an answer.

You heard the disgusting shriek of rusty metal hinges turning somewhere not too far from your current location, and you cringed. You turned to your left, taking in the sight of a boy, presumably Toby, who was also in a nightgown. The brown-haired boy’s demeanor was strange, almost meek, but you knew he wasn’t. Someone with this group couldn’t possibly be meek. He sniffed and sneezed, and his shoulders jerked. Probably a tic disorder. For whatever reason, his left cheek was also bandaged, and you wondered what kind of wound lay there. From this distance, you heard Hoodie brief him on the situation, how “The Operator” needed you alive and whatever. Bro has two names? What is he, quirky?

Masky looked around and nodded. “Time to go,” he says, before grabbing a key from Jeff and unlocking EJ’s door.

You didn’t know what you expected, because EJ lunged at you, and you knew he was hungry. In a second, his strangely lanky body was lifted off you, as he roared and cried for your organs. You had no idea what to think of this, but you turned to Masky, who sighed as Toby—who seemed to be stronger than he looks— and Hoodie restrained him.

“Come on. Gotta take you to your new home now. Or torture chamber. Don’t know what Boss wants with you.”

You were so fucked.

So here you are now, being transported with nary a trace of care from these men, all in light blue hospital gowns that do nothing to flatter them. Well, with as much care as you’d expect, at least. They are, after all, a serial killer, a cannibal, and three others who seemed to be seasoned fighters. And you don’t think they fight for show.

You pretty much get hurled into the boot of a truck that appeared out of nowhere. And when you say that it appeared out of nowhere, it appeared out of nowhere. So not only were they a serial killer, a cannibal, and three others who seemed to be seasoned not-for-show fighters, there was also some supernatural force coming into play that was clearly on their side.

Just as you wonder how Ben will get in with you, Hoodie gets into the back with you, and a threat from Masky is uttered, something like, “We’ll hunt you down if you escape, and we’ll make you wish you never ran away.” You don’t doubt him. You hear doors slam close, rocking the whole vehicle left and right. The glass shard Jeff was previously holding is now transferred into Hoodie’s hand, and you can only presume that the first reason why is to prevent Jeff from slicing your throat. The second is that, obviously, they need to hold your life hostage. It is at this moment you realize that you’re stupid, Ben is an apparition, and probably doesn’t require transport.

Against your natural instincts, you try to relax in the boot of this truck, still relatively tensed up due to the situation. Beside you, Hoodie is staring at you wordlessly, no hint of sympathy in his eyes, nothing that would tell you he’d hesitate to hurt you in Jeff’s place. You remember Ben’s exact words—bring the girl back alive. There was nothing insinuating you absolutely had to be in one piece.

To avoid the awkwardness, though you’re pretty sure you’re the only one feeling it given that the other probably has zero regard for you as a person, you clear your throat and lie back against the floor of the trunk. Hoodie does not move an inch, the hand grasping the shard holding steady. You wonder how he’s not bleeding from holding it, then decide that none of this is your problem. Yet.

They could torture you for fun, or they could decide all of a sudden that you’re no fun and kill you off. You decide against sighing, afraid that if you even just twitched in the wrong direction they’d cut that appendage off. Honestly, you don’t even know why you consider sighing. You should be fearing for your life.

But that’s just the thing. To fear is to have something to lose, and right now your only concern is that they might torture you without letting you dying, or just torture you to death. You know that a quick and painless death with these guys would be a miracle, given their sadistic and cannibalistic nature. Otherwise, you know that even if you died, the only thing you’d technically be losing is your life. And you don’t value your own life. After all, after around two entire decades of abuse and domestic violence, you grew up just not having anything to value. In the unlikely circumstance that you did find something to like, they’d just take it away from you.

These in mind, you manage to relax even further, and think yourself along this train of thought till you fall asleep, the group’s threats forgotten.

“Damn. She really just fell asleep.”

“You wanna bet on who’ll be able to hit her hardest without waking her up?”

“Huh-hey. The Operator told us—“ a whistle, snapping of fingers, and a harsh ‘fuck’—“to keep her alive.”

“Toby, are you just afraid of being a woman beater? You’re way past that.”

“Please, dear, she’s only a child—”

Whack. Thud.

You jerk awake. Though their voices had been drifting in slowly, the last person’s words triggered you. You don’t realize your body has acted before your eyes open, and you’re now sitting up ramrod straight, glaring at murderers, hands ready to defend.

Your brain registers the five in hospital gowns, and you remember that you’re being kidnapped. You regret the sudden movement, so you curl up into a defensive position, mouth opening to beg for your life. You may be passively suicidal, but you still have some sense of self-preservation.

Jeff looks at you in disgust. “Boooooring,” he drawls, then bends down to your height, face just inches away from yours. “I feed boring people to my dog.” A gulp sends its way down your throat. You have no idea what to say to that, and the classic option of apologizing comes to your mind, but you choke it back down lest Jeff actually try to feed you to his dog.

“Uh,” is, once again, your intelligent response to a bunch of insane murderers who are currently staring you down.

Masky acts just as you see Jeff cringe at your response, picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder. You startle, but he holds you firm. “Do not,” he repeats, calm venom in his words, “attempt to run. You will not succeed.”

You try to defend your not-so-little full-body twitch, but you once again save your own ass by shutting the fuck up. You praise yourself for not making shitty decisions today.

Mask’s back blocks you from looking at what’s ahead, what they seem to walk towards with such purpose in their footsteps. Where the evergreen grass ends, raised wooden stairs appear, wide enough to fit two or three people on top of it. A patio?

Your guess is confirmed as the three steps lead to the floor of a patio, and from your peripheral vision you register what can only be described as a normal wooden patio, except it’s run-down and flora is beginning to take over the gaps between the planks. You feel Masky’s free arm reach out and push something, likely a door. Its hinges squeak in protest as the man holding you continues moving forward.

You note that no light floods out from the open doorway, but the men continue walking forward anyway. Just as you think this might be your final resting place, Masky speaks.

“We, Eyeless Jack, Jeffrey Woods, Brian Thomas, Tobias Rogers, Timothy Wright and hostage…”

“Y/N,” EJ offers.

“And hostage Y/N,” Masky continues, “Request access to your home, Master.”

You could’ve sworn you didn’t blink, but suddenly you’re standing on a brown patterned carpet in a well-lit hall. At least, you think it’s a hall. There’s no time to even process the names, the full names they practically handed you.

You feel a huge presence behind you. That is to say, in front of Masky. Though intangible, it towers over you, choking you, clogging your breath, vision and hearing. Static?

It buzzes and buzzes, and you think your head might explode, you swear your eyeballs pop out of their sockets and that your brains leak out of your nostrils, but in a split second, you find yourself sitting on the floor, your eyes and brain intact. You feel around your head and face to confirm that everything is in place.

Tilting your head upwards might have been the scariest thing you’ve gone through today.

Faceless.

Indents where eyes should be and a slight raise where a nose should be.

And a large maw of teeth, tongue and saliva.

You don’t know how you should be reacting. But you’re pulled back to your surroundings as three voices seem to respond to this presence, this faceless entity with a monstrous mouth.

A chorus of three. “Master.”

You don’t see them, but you know that three of these men are bowing, one knee to the ground to this creature. Something in its chest rumbles, and you hope it’s not an angry one.

The entity retracts its tongue, and its teeth disappear into nothing, into white, sewing themselves back together into, for lack of better description, leather-like fabric.

Welcome back.

You’re left disoriented for a bit at the intrusive thought. No, it wasn’t your usual internal monologue. The voice was deep, smooth, imposing. But you hadn’t seen the entity, the so-called master, open his mouth, nor even move the muscles where a normal person’s mouth would be.

Slowly, the entity’s head turned towards you, its eyeless gaze piercing you, mind and soul.

You are to follow my proxies. They will ensure your survival in this household.

You hear a faint voice, similar to that of this entity’s, in the back of your head. Masky grunts in acknowledgement, seemingly in rhythm with that background voice. You realize that this entity is probably projecting his voice onto both of you at once.

You are to be brought to my office once you have been shown to your room. There, I will deliver a set of instructions to you.

The entity disappears. Jeff and EJ walk ahead on either side of you and ascend the stairways on either side of what you can only call a mansion lobby.

You feel a tug on the fabric of your clothes, over your right shoulder. “Come.” The stuttering voice that reminded the group to keep you alive sounds beside your ear. “Don’t want the Operator to wait too long,” he says amongst a slew of vocal tics, whistling and swearing. You wanted the jerky speech to soothe you, leave you in denial that this boy was a gentle being, but you knew otherwise. Sooner or later, something really fucked up would rear its ugly head above Toby’s brown, curly-haired head.

Wordlessly, you rise. He leads you, pinching the fabric of your sleeve to lead you.

It all feels like a dream. A really bad dream. Like a distasteful prank that’s being pulled on me right now.

But no one in your life remains to pull even the most harmless of pranks on you.

chapter 4 is out.

[nemmennem]

Male Teen Reader x Creepypasta [ch. 2]

"i-i-i think i will go with you" you said, your words trembling and your body still shaking in toby's hug

"Oh shit i just gaslightd them into becoming creepypasta" toby thaugh

yes... he indeed manipulated you into becoming creepypasta

"you can relax now kid, there is nothing to stress about" toby said ruffling your hair " you remind me of jeff"

"the killer?"

"ye, your hair look like him and you are little pale, oh, and how old are you and what's your name?"

you had black curly hair that reached your shoulders and you were slightly pale, but that was probably because of fear

"I'm 15, and my name is Victor"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"let's end this nice chat and get down to more serious matters, first of all, are you aware that you have to abandon all your family and friends? oh no, wait, they are dead after all, sorry I forgot, and secondly you have to take all the important slash personal stuff, things like I don't know, family photos, normal clothes, weapons and preferably everything fits into some kind of backpack"

"ok, just give me a minute"

"if anything I'll be waiting at the front door, do not think about running away"

you began to pack, you packed some clothes, some books, a family album, your own shampoo, you left the room and took one last look at the friendly walls,you took your father's holster and ammunition tucked into your jacket pocket, the bag was thrown on your back and you left, the first thing you saw was a happy toby

"you don't even know how glad I am that you chose to stick with us"

you started walking in a direction known only toby, it was quiet, neither you nor toby made a sound while you walked, until toby broke the grave silence

""you are aware that in the place we are going there is more, you know…. people, as if to put it nicely, harmed by life more than others? I'm not saying that they are worse, or emotionally unstable, but be ready to change the ways of perceiving people and expect to collide with a wall, you are the youngest person to join our group, I am not saying there will be pressure on you, but there will be people who will not like it, remember that I am with you if you need me... well and now formal matters, creepypastas are divided into three ranks, proxi, the highest ranks, we perform more important tasks and manage easier missions, half proxi, are in the middle, perform more important tasks but manage none, at the very bottom there are ordinary pastas, they perform the tasks assigned to them, this is the rank you will get… if the boss agrees, of course"

there was an awkward silence between the two of you

"the problem is that my boss may not agree to you joining… I know, I know, i should have told you about it right away and please don't ask what will happen if he doesn't agree"

oh shit.mp4

"oh, we're already here"

In front of you was a large mansion, a very fancy mansion, you felt a strange sensation, as if someone was entering your head. Toby walked to the door and with a friendly wave of his hand, invited you inside... its even more fancy inside, literal deffinition of classical luxury mansion

"Oh masky!"

"... No no no, how? how did you get him to join us!?"

"Masky has a problem again"

"with?"

"toby"

"I'm gonna see what is it about this time?"

"Hey guys, what went wrong this time?..... is that a teen?" said the legend himself

"jeff the killer?" you asked

"yep, that's me" jeff said proudly

Jeff then shook my hand

"wow, you would really convince a child to become one of us, I guess you have my respect, and you, what's your name?"

"victor"

"no alias?"

"I haven't thought about it yet"

Jeff snapped his fingers

"V? something from the name but not being the name, unlike more than half of the pastes that simply used the name and an additional adjective, I was the first so I could"

"i'll think about it"

"Thank you for considering my proposal"

"Jeff, what was it all about? It takes you a long time to "check" what's going on" teen? or not tall adult joined conversation, he wore... pretty much 1:1 link cosplay "New pasta? and it's teen! Do you have any gamesens?"

" I guess?"

"oh god in heaven thank you for a person who is a creepypasta and isn't old... oh and im ben"

he then left laughing with joy

"typical ben" said jeff " he will won't leave you alone, it's pretty late you know"

"I was going to introduce him to slender" said toby "and get him key to his room"

"good luck" jeff said and went his way

"this will not go well" said masky

"dont stress about it"

you two went up the stairs (masky went to his room).you stood in front of a large wooden door, needless to say it was pretty, Toby entered and you went after him, there he was... slenderman, you knew him

"hey boss" toby said and bowed

"hello" you said and bowed

"soo boss... i wanted to"

"yes he can join us, i can read minds toby"

"oh... that's all?"

"yes, Victor, your offical introduction with presence of other proxy's will be tomorrow, i hope toby will help you prepare to that, right?"

"of course sir"

"now just go to your room and sleep well"

you just stood there awkwardly, and then you left with toby

"that was fast" you said

"yeah, it was, i will show you where is your room and then leave you alone to allow you to get used to your new surroundings"

"ok"

with this words your first day in slender man mansion ended

----------------[ NEXT DAY ]---------------

new day, new you, you woke up at 6 am, you may have woken up in a new place but your sleeping habits remain the same, you got up and did your daily routine (each room had a bathroom)

"Should I leave?" you thought "well, only a handful of pasties recognize me, others will probably think I'm a burglar and kill me on the spot. Fuck it, I'm leaving"

you left your room and you decided to wander around the mansion, your main goal was to find someone you knew and stick with them for your safety, you had your gun of course

"hmm?"

you stopped reading the book

"Whose steps were those, they seem light, Ben sleeps until breakfast so it can't be him, Hey, he gets up early but his steps are heavy, maybe someone broke in? this needs to be checked"

you wanted to walk down the stairs when strong arm hooked you by neck, you also felt knife at your throat

"be quiet and maybe we'll reach an agreement" a femine voice spoke

you remained silent and the person speaking threw you into some dark room. Due to the force of the throw, you fell to the floor, in entrance of the room stood woman she had black wavy shoulder-length hair, a black sweater and black and white buggy pants. The detail that made her stand out was her white mask

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry for all grammar errors

[guardednight]

just some thoughts i've had that i wanted to share regarding billy and how they've simplified his origin and how that'll factor into my portrayal below:

so i largely saw this coming based on scoops and have kind of prepped myself for it for over a year. but in my view, this origin is not completed yet. billy doesn't have either william kaplan, nor billy maximoff's memories. he has to ask about both lives from rebecca and jeff (william) and ralph and agatha (maximoff). i believe lilia's palm reading that his lifeline is broken in two, and the fact that the sigil worked on both names, leads me to believe that perhaps in the final trial, agatha will help to reconcile the souls/identities/memories, so billy walks out identifying as billy kaplan, with the memories of both of his lives. the tower reversed implies a resistance to change, and you can tell that billy is still not settled in his identity. he's not even sure what to call himself. so i'm hopeful he'll have the billy kaplan persona by the end of the road, complete with the wiccan alias and suit hopefully.

also - i know people are really hyping up billy and eddie, and the idea that eddie might be teddy but i have to admit that i'm not vibing with it at all. if he was teddy, they would just name him that. there's no reason to hide his name (especailly bc his skrull name is dorrek viii and teddy is the alias he uses). i don't love the idea that billy had a boyfriend he was supposedly in love with before teddy, and still in my heart of hearts would adore kit being teddy. so for now, i'm just going to see how that plays out (if it does at all), but moreso hoping for traditional wickling in the future. idk if that's a shitty take, but i'm just not vibing with it currently.

i think episode 6 was astounding in most ways, and i think so long as there is some identity reconciliation by the end of the show, i am quite pleased with how they've handled his origin. there was no easy way to handle the reincarnation, but they chose a very emotional option and i loved it for the most part. sending all the hugs to rebecca and jeff, and really hoping at the very least that william kaplan's memories can live on with billy if he's truly gone gone and its not more of a merger situation.

[tomorrowedblog]

Thursday Releases for September 12

Friday is usually the busiest day of the week for new releases. Not this week though. For some reason there a bunch of releases on a Thursday. Whatever. Thursday Releases for September 12 include Marvel vs. Capcom Fighting Collection: Arcade Classics, Caravan SandWitch, The Old Man S2, and more.

The Old Man S2

The second season of The Old Man, the TV series from Jonathan E. Steinberg and Robert Levine, is out today.

In FX’s The Old Man Season 2, former CIA agent “Dan Chase” (Jeff Bridges) and former FBI Assistant Director “Harold Harper” (John Lithgow) set off to recover “Emily Chase” (Alia Shawkat) after she is kidnapped. As the stakes rise and secrets are uncovered, Emily finds herself in an identity crisis with dire implications, and “Zoe McDonald” (Amy Brenneman) makes surprising moves into Chase’s world.

Billionaire Island

Billionaire Island, the new TV series from Anne Bjørnstad and Eilif Skodvin, is out today.

The ruthless owner of a Norwegian fish farming company plans a hostile takeover of her local rival to become the world's largest salmon producer.

Marvel vs. Capcom Fighting Collection: Arcade Classics

Marvel vs. Capcom Fighting Collection: Arcade Classics, the new game from CAPCOM, is out today.

The legendary crossover hits are back! The action-packed lineup consisting of seven unique titles, is full of heavy hitters like X-MEN VS. STREET FIGHTER, and MARVEL vs. CAPCOM 2 New Age of Heroes. The collection also includes the rare beat 'em up game, THE PUNISHER.

Caravan SandWitch

Caravan SandWitch, the new game from Studio Plane Toast and Dear Villagers, is out today.

In Caravan SandWitch, embark on a journey across a Sci-Fi Provence-like world, driven by a mystery through your missing sister that unfolds with each step you take. Interact with the communities on Cigalo, help them with their tasks and meet new people along the way. Take your time to explore the world, whether in your van or on foot. Life is simple: no combat, no death, no timer, just you, your van, and the world.

Chef RPG

Chef RPG, the new game from World 2 Studio, is out today.

Craft your culinary adventure in a beautiful pixel art world. Manage your restaurants, forage and hunt for ingredients, befriend locals, and grow your culinary empire. What kind of chef will you be?

DeathSprint 66

DeathSprint 66, the new game from Sumo Digital and Secret Mode, is out today.

Compete in a bloody fight to the finish in DEATHSPRINT 66, fusing high-speed on-foot racing with deadly obstacles and brutal abilities. Unleash your velocity, push limits, and claim glory like never before.

Hollowbody

Hollowbody, the new game from Headware Games, is out today.

A tech-noir survival horror short story, set in the urban decay of a long abandoned British city. Solve environmental puzzles, manage limited resources and fight for a way to escape beyond the wall.

Grapple Dogs: Cosmic Canines

Grapple Dogs: Cosmic Canines, the new game from Medallion Games and Super Rare Originals, is out today.

Swing, jump, and blast through dimensions in the follow-up to the critically-acclaimed 2D action-platformer Grapple Dog. Zip between action-packed worlds as Pablo and Luna team up to save the cosmos in their own unique ways.

REKA

REKA, the new game from Emberstorm Entertainment and Fireshine Games, is out today.

Channel your inner witch! Build your cozy chicken-legged hut, practice witchcraft, and forage for ingredients in autumnal woodlands. Solve quests & uncover the great mysteries of the legendary witch Baba Jaga…

Wild Bastards

Wild Bastards, the new game from Blue Manchu and Maximum Entertainment, is out today.

The spiritual successor to the award-winning game Void Bastards, Wild Bastards is a roguelike strategy shooter with heart-pounding FPS action, mod management, and a tactical campaign. Saddle up and lead the most notorious outlaws in the galaxy.

[magnowlia]

Embrace her name, Nathalie Hayes Deraile.

Entry #1 ; Bits Of Sunshine

Now that you’re familiar, I may go by Nath, Alie, Lilie, or any other alias that does not make you forget me. I am still a minor (if you consider 17 as underage), born as a cancer under the summer haze. I’m most comfortable being addressed with feminine terms. Please do note that my account is what I consider as a public diary, my own safe space—unlabeled.

Entry #2 ; What My Closet Looks Like

I am a big fan of Formula 1, apologize in advance if you see me stressed every Sunday (if you can’t tell already, i’m a tifosi).

I’m into books as well, currently obsessing over fantasy genre (The Poppy War, Six Crimson Crows, A Study in Drowning, anything by V.E Schwab), I’m also trying to get myself into literary fiction, a never-ending TBR on my hands yet so little time to read all of them.

As a scaredy cat, of course I enjoy watching thriller & horror movies even though my eyes are closed for the whole entire 2 hours. Some masterpieces I’ve watched are Get Out, Us, The Conjuring universe, Halloween, Incantation. To stop my heart from exploding from so many jumpscares, I love love love easy series such as Gilmore Girls, Modern Family, Everybody Hates Chris. Also other movies like The Princess Diaries, Legally Blonde, Mean Girls, Pitch Perfect, La La Land, Confession Of A Shopaholic.

Music keeps me going, I have dozens of playlist for different occasions and situations. Most of them are filled with Jeff Bernat, Frank Ocean, Billie Eilish, Sabrina Carpenter, Tyla, ENHYPEN, The Cranberries, Novo Amor, LANY, Lauv, Hozier, Mac DeMarco, John Mayer, Omar Apollo, ZAYN.

One last thing, I’m in love with mornings. Spending the little time of peace I have with pilates, journaling, jazz, yummy breakfast, and morning walks make me feel like a better person.

Entry #3 ; Help A Girl Out!

Before you enter my space, assure that you’re not a homophobic, a private qrt-er (it makes me anxious!!!), and a NSFW oriented account. I strictly do not accept any kind of hate on my page as well, let’s be kind…. Other than that, I’m welcome to everyone, greet me and I’ll be your bff in two seconds! ^_^ If you have anything to say, reach me on my DM or retrospring

[rose-remnants]

ohmygod seriously, 2023?!

Been off to quite a start.

I'm mega tired, as I left Austin yesterday, stopped at Alia's for the night, & drove home/shopped around today. But let me jot down some important things.

January 1 - saw a fox when I got back to Marci's from the greenbelt, after thinking about Josh & wondering if I did the right thing.

Should. Have. Know.

A couple days later? Jeff had been drinking a lot & slapped my butt with a pizza pan. I had been drinking champagne. I froze, & observed myself/the situation. I had never been in a triggering situation before where I was able to not get totally caught up in it, & observe & soothe myself instead. It was very interesting, noticing the triggers flaring up in my body. Then calmly expressing what happened & what I was experiencing to Josh, as well that I did not know how to handle the situation. And kept telling myself how proud I was of myself for how I was handling things. Hugging myself. Reassuring me.

I was also pretty much just as upset about having to talk to Marci about it & how I assumed she would react.. which she did basically react how I expected. And THAT was triggering for me. Just as triggering. It caused me to realize how much "sisterhood" wounding I have still. Not feeling supported or protected. She is like a sister, best friend, & mother... & for her to almost kind of defend him was pretty heart wrenching. To only consider breaking up with him because of his drinking, & basically disregard that he sexually harassed (assaulted?) me, that he treats her like shit- treats a lot of people kind of like shit - is controlling & abusive & talks down to her & others.. so disappointing.

Somewhere in the midst of everything, I realized this situation & the past situation with Alicia.. some similarity with Medusa/Athena. Not being supported or protected by a sister, a "mother". I did however receive support, validation, & gentleness from Alia. Which I am so so so grateful for. As well I appreciate how Josh handled things & validated me in not owing Jeff anything.

That was healing for me. And the dream I had this morning seemed to be further proof.

I re-read my entry about the Medusa & Lilith journey last night.

I felt called to The Reliquary today after leaving Alia's. Almost didn't go but I did. And I got the Merlinite this time. And I sat there on the floor for a while. Just soaking in the goodness of the space before carrying onto Rue 21, where I spent less than $5 & the male employee totally gave me a free skirt. (& possibly discounted my products even more? He was kind & had a gentleness to him)

And at Home Goods, I felt incredibly called to this marble heart shaped cutting board inset with two abalone hearts. I kept trying to talk myself out of it, but just when I was thinking ok maybe I'll look up the properties of marble, I saw the third heart board on a totally different aisle & just knew it needed to come home with me. For numerous reasons. It wasn't until I was driving & pretty far along my way when it hit me - omg stone heart. Like Medusa. The abalone shells, of the sea. I immediately got tingles atop my head spreading down my body & tears welled up. It was a message from her.

And as SOON as I came inside I heard water running. Rushed into the bathroom/tub to see the hot water side spewing water everywhere. Dears said the connection was loose, he tightened it.

A few minutes later noticed glass on my floor. Was very confused until I realized it was my (Scorpio? no?) blood moon eclipse water jug. WTF? How. Even.

Water.. Leaks. Loose connections. Stone hearts. Stone of Merlinite. Broken glass. Broken.

Not wanting to be "seen"/block around posting my photos or modeling more because I'm uncomfortable being seen, being percieved as beautiful, it is dangerous.

Ant on my forehead??

[exorcism-inprogress]

I posted 800 times in 2022

3 posts created (0%)

797 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@witcherbeech

@royalsomar

@i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky

@julielilac

@rdyrtiegoestosalon

I tagged 799 of my posts in 2022

#kinnporsche - 245 posts

#omaaar - 100 posts

#shane - 55 posts

#jaskier - 48 posts

#ryan - 47 posts

#but what kind of alias is jeff - 44 posts

#ofmd - 35 posts

#omg - 34 posts

#the rest of the witcher - 24 posts

#character development - 24 posts

Longest Tag: 108 characters

#if youve been asking yourself should i start watching this annoying show that is popping out from everywhere

My Top Posts in 2022:

#2

i know you guys are watching this like not another blog slipping into asian bl press F.. but its not just some bl (no offense to all other bls) its like really Really REALLY Good.. all i wanna say is dont judge me come join me i know you want to

21 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

as much as we dont like that trope but porsche is kinnsexual and mile is aposexual change my mind

30 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[world-of-horrors-au]

Horrors au - Liu profile

Name: Liu Jerimiah Woods

Alias: N/A

Faction: government

Age: early to mid 30s

Height: 5’9

Physical Description: The scars on him are impossible to forget, or ignore. They’re all over his face, his chest, his arms, crudely stitched back together by a long-forgotten medic. His eyes are a bright but cold green, his lips permanently twisted into a scowl. Brown hair is kept short, but not quite military style, as he’s not quite part of the military. His clothing is professional, no matter what kind of professional he needs. The black suits of the federal agent, the sleeveless shirts of the survivor, the striped scarves in the colder months. You’ll never see him in the stereotypical long coat and scarf combo he’s known in the fandom for, however. Those are Sully’s clothes...

Personality: Strict and severe, Liu is not one to mess around with, even if he's working with you. Being around him without the other Horrors feels like being in the presence of a deadly trap that could go off at any moment. He rarely smiles around humans, focusing instead on getting the job done, doesn't make jokes, doesn't talk much at all. And then there's his interactions with Rico - the human does something to him. All composure flies out the window when he's around the doctor. He becomes as protective of the "stupid human" as he is over the other Horrors. He fights Rico where with other humans he accepts orders without a word. With the other Horrors, he is the leader, the second in command of their squad, and he expects to be respected while on the job… in casual situations, though, anything goes, and he knows and hates it.

Backstory: Liu was 15 or 16, scheming a way to remove himself and his little brother from their neglectful home, when the first Wave hit. Jeff became a Horror, slaughtered their parents, and left Liu to die of his injuries. But he didn't. Liu was rescued, his injuries stitched together, and taken in by groups that eventually would join the government once it was restored. During the Second Wave, Liu became a Horror. However, the rampage he went on was stopped by the humans around him before he could kill anyone. The humans in the government, desperate for any way to counter the threat of the Horrors, decided to try and 'domesticate' Liu. What followed was, essentially, torture. But it worked. Liu became an agent of the government, and turned against the others of his species. He was responsible for the capture of many Horrors, Horrors that would soon be executed under the Three Days law. Inside, he is sick with grief and anger at what is happening and what he has done. These feelings are shoved so deep inside him, they almost never show.

Skills: skilled with firearms and their maintenance; Survival skills, both wilderness and urban; first aid; tracking and hunting sentient prey; traps meant for sentient prey; psychological manipulation and warfare

Weapons: multiple firearms

Other Traits: n/a?

Motifs: guns, stripes, etc

Allies: other government agents, government Horrors, Rico McMallory

Enemies: Jeff and the wild Horrors

Theme Song: Natural - Imagine Dragons

[allhailbrokeloose]

[mysteriene]

𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 › Accepting

⌦ @facedtogether​ · Joker sent › ❛ don’t allow the world to take your kindness. ❜

               The reticence is implausibly haunting; Liara misses the creaks, lurches, and vibrations of the Normandy. It is deafening to linger around—forewarned of their forlorn situation, of the lack of intelligence, knowledge, news. Such turbulence causes distress—Liara finds little solace in her sleep, rigged with nightmares and memories; she doesn’t know whether she wants to be awake, or asleep——which one was better? Her humour is sharp, bitter, her lack of socializing proved to be a means of concern; Dr. Chakwas comes to frequent the Shadow Broker’s quarters, for a check-up, to talk, only to see how Liara is cooping—lost in to blank screens and minimal technology to work with. The Asari pulls that mask over her, like a blanket; a façade to ignore the heartache that screams in her head. There is a need for answers. She believes, she knows whatever happened—it worked. It had to. They lost EDI, now just a husk left. What occurred on the crucible? There has been no communication, and not a single sighting of the Reapers; perhaps she should take it. It is, what it is. Liara finds it disheartening to be left in the dark.

               ‘ Don’t allow the world to take your kindness. ’

               It is an extraordinarily simple statement, but it draws Liara’s attention away from her terminals. She knows that voice—more than most. Exasperated, royal eyes turn towards a well-known visage of their pilot; to Joker, Liara has a familiar, downtrodden look that paired with her exhaustion. A smile crosses her lips, faint and solemn. Their gaze is a recognition of melancholy, when there should be a chance of hope—it's an ache, that constricts her heart beyond much reason.

               “Joker,” it is the alias of her choosing; there weren’t many moments that Liara called him Jeff. Her sigh is quaint, an attempt to invoke a hushed, humoured tone. It did not work as well as the Asari intended. Beryl eyes avert their gaze—Liara to purse her lips in consideration. “I suppose, insisting that I am fine, will have little effect on you.” It is a jest, as much as it is a serious; she hurts, they both know it. But Joker is not without his own struggles too; how Liara has tried to bring EDI back to consciousness. She sat with Tali, searching for possible solutions but her usefulness ran dry without the proper resources. “I know it is hard, for all of us... I haven’t been fair, or very courteous to others.” Heartbreak had always resorted to self-preservation for Liara. The laughter that falls now is true, but harsh—judging herself for her reclusive actions. Her attention is brought back to the pilot. “How are you doing?�� It’s not much of conversation, but it’s a start; maybe, Liara can find an answer to the statement Joker hand entered with.

[movie-robotnik-positivity]

New Lee Majdoub interview!

“The shipping is fantastic. A lot of fans reached out and are like “what do you think of the shipping, do you support it?” and honestly, I support whatever makes you guys happy, as long as we’re keeping it positive.”

Lee Majdoub, who plays Agent Stone in the Sonic Movie was featured in a video interview recently. He talked about how he got to the project back when it was under the fake alias “Casino Night”, how he and Jim evolved Agent Stone’s character and his response to all the fanart and shipping. Please watch it!

“So then it just evolved into this fun… Jim refers to it as kind of like an Inspector Clouseau and Kato type thing. I kind of akin it to Mr. Burns and Smithers a bit, where there’s this admiration, and this judgement at times.”

“I think he’s in search for Robotnik, he’s continuing Robotnik’s research. I don’t think Stone’s a dummy, I think he pays attention and is learning as much as possible. (...) I think they both need each other.”

Fun Fact: Jeff Fowler encouraged actors throwing ideas and questions at all times, not wanting them to feel like they weren’t allowed to.

[lille082]

Kismet

a fic fulfilling the “betting pool” and “the mystery of q’s name”  squares on the Trope Prompt Table (004) by @mi6-cafe

Kismet

-----

There are only two people employed by MI6 who know Q’s birth name other than himself. One, by virtue of his position, is Mallory. He’d seen the redacted files on the Quartermaster shortly before they’d been destroyed as part of Q’s paperless initiative.

The other found out through sheer, dumb luck...

R finished combing through the debugging program she was working on, glaring at the screen when she found the exact line of code where she’d missed a bracket. The irony was not lost on her.

Glancing at the clock, she noted that a solid fifteen minutes had passed since Double-Oh Six strutted out of the branch. Enough time that she shouldn’t arouse suspicion by heading to Q’s office.

She made a show of stretching at her station, rolling her neck in circles and twisting from side to side in an attempt to crack her back. Victor appeared to have returned to his work but Amara kept referencing the paper on Trevelyan had given her, likely updating their database.

R grabbed her nearly empty mug and stepped back from her desk.

“Eddie, I need a warm up here. You have the conn.”

“Aye, Captain,” the younger tech grinned and saluted her.

She waited until he’d put his headset on before taking her’s off, logging out, and putting her computer to sleep.

“Don’t let Q hear you call me that. You’ll never hear the end of it,” she joked as she headed for the kitchenette in the break area.

She tossed the dregs of her tea down the drain and grabbed one of Q’s mugs from the sideboard. Relaxing into the routine of making tea, she took the time to doctor Q’s with precision. R knew she excelled at what she did, but she suspected that her promotion had been sealed when it came to light that her and Double-Oh Nine were the only people in the building Q trusted to make his tea exactly as he liked it.

A mug in each hand, she carefully made her way back to Q’s office and knocked on the bottom of the door with her boot.

“Come in.”

She pushed against the door with her hip but it was latched shut. She kicked the door once more and heard her boss huff before a wheel scrapped across the floor.

“You honestly couldn’t op—,” Q’s grumbling cut off as he flung the door open and saw R standing there with a cheeky smile, holding his mug out for him, “Oh! Thank you, R.”

“Do you have a moment?”

“Of course,” Q nodded and stepped back. He accepted the outstretched mug, studying her closely as she closed the door behind her.

“What can I do for you, R?” Despite the kind smile on his face, his voice was neutral and diplomatic as he returned to his seat.

She recognized the concern in his tone and waved her hand as she sat down, trying to assuage his worries.

“It’s nothing serious, but I thought you should know that Victor and Amara’s, um, project is beginning to expand beyond the current parameters.“

The corners of Q’s mouth turned down and he appeared to wrack his brain for the details of their current assignment before he realized what she was talking about.

“The betting pool?” Q laughed, cautiously taking a sip of his too-hot tea.

“Yes, sir. It seems that Double-Oh Six just bet 100 quid and you know Trevelyan won’t be able to keep that to himself.”

“100 quid?” He gaped at her before recovering swiftly. “I thought entries were only five?”

R nodded and took a delicate sip of tea.

“They are, sir. He came in with a list of 20 different names.”

Q snorted, shaking his head.

“I knew they’d gotten the cleaning crew in on it, but I didn’t think they’d push the boundaries any further than that.”

“Rod’s team? If they’re in, it’s no wonder Double-Oh Six knew about it.”

Q shrugged with a wry smile.

“For being in espionage, people around here are terrible at keeping secrets.”

R laughed.

“I think it’s more to do with knowing national security isn’t exactly at stake if they gossip. Do you want me to shut it down?”

Q considered the question but had to agree with R’s summation. He waved his hand dismissively.

“No, let them have their fun at my expense. If it allows them to blow off enough steam for us to avoid another stapler incident, it’s worth it.”

R snorted and they shared exasperated grins. They sat for a moment in companionable silence before Q cracked.

“Okay, I have to know. What’s the current front runner?” His smile was puckish and R couldn’t help but notice how much younger it made him look.

“I don’t know.” She said, shrugging.

Q raised an eyebrow as she threw the end of her hijab back over her shoulder where it���d slipped off.

“Oh, come on. You must have some idea.”

“Well. . .I don’t know what the actual name is but last I heard the odds favored something terribly modern, like Kasper with a ‘K’ or Maddox. If I recall correctly, the guesses are mostly split between more, um, current names with extraneous letters or the standard top tens. You know: Thomas, Christopher, Daniel, Michael, Andrew—popular ones.”

She leaned forward, a conspiratorial smile on her face. ”Though there seem to be a few favoring names that start with Q—Quincy, Quinlan, Quinten, Quigley.”

Q laughed loudly at that and R smiled, happy to be able to keep pulling him out of the rigid, no-nonsense persona he put on at work.

“Quigley, that’s amazing. . .” He chuckled as he raised his mug to his lips. “And what did you put your money down on?”

R offered him an indulgent smile.

“I’m not the betting kind.”

“No? Well, you must have at least a guess.”

“I. . .may have some theories.”

“Like?” He smiled, indulging his curiosity.

She narrowed her eyes as she set her cup of tea down on the desk, leaning forward to study him. Q stared back passively, waiting.

“I don’t think it’s anything modern or obnoxious. It’s not overly common or terribly simple, like Mark or Jeff. It’s something that’s a little old-fashioned, maybe, but smart without sounding pompous.”

Q’s smile grew across his face even as he tried to hide it.

“So? What’s my real name then, hmm?”

R laughed, shrugging and reached for her mug.

“I don’t know. . .Ethan? Theodore? Isaac? Malcolm? Simon? Freddie? Oliver?”

If R had been looking at Q as she carelessly tossed out her guesses instead of focusing on her tea, she would have seen Q’s posture abruptly stiffen, the smile on his face chased away by flashes of shock-confusion-fear before silent fury took hold.

The sound of his chair crashing into the wire rack behind his desk as he abruptly stood up made R jump, sloshing tea over the side of her mug. She watched, shocked, as he promptly snapped the blinds to his office window shut and locked the door.

He turned slowly on his heel to face her, tension radiating from him. His voice was tight.

“Where did you find it?”

“Find what?” R frowned and tried kept her voice as calm as she could among her growing confusion. She deliberately placed the cup of tea back on his desk, not breaking eye contact.

“Don’t, R. I know you’re smarter than that. Where was it?” He took a step towards her, voice low and dangerous.

“Q,” R stood, trying to gain some footing in a situation quickly spiraling out of control without her knowing why. She held her hands out, open and placating. “I’m not—“

Q’s jaw twitched and she cut herself off as she saw him glance out of the corner of his eye towards the gun he’d been working on where it lay next to the toolbox on his desk. Panic coursed through her and she vehemently shook her head, but wasn’t able to say anything before he continued.

“Why would you be looking that far back? Fuck!” There was a fierceness in his eyes she’d never seen before. He took another creeping step towards his desk and continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “That name’s been dead and buried for a long time. Who are you working for?”

R felt her lungs freeze inside her chest and she blinked. If the betrayal in his tone hadn’t clued her in, that certainly did the trick.

She’d later blame the utterly lethargic firing of her synapses on how blindsided with panic she’d been at the idea of Q turning a gun on her.

She knew his current alias and his cover identities. When they’d first started working together, years ago, he’d been called Colin—but, just as she’d been given the name Naima when she was promoted to R, she knew he’d been assigned that one too. She didn’t know the name he used before that, let alone the actual name that had been put in ink on his birth certificate decades ago.

There was no way. . .

She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but eventually closed it when it nothing came out that could be construed as actual words.

Q, still as could be, watched the play of emotions across her face before everything clicked into place.

His eyes widened in what R would’ve considered a highly comical fashion had her heart not been close to beating out of her chest. His expression cleared as he realized just how dumbfounded R was.

“You. . .You have no idea, do you?”

She shook her head, still completely gobsmacked.

“So I--I guessed right?”

Q began laughing and immediately deflated as all the tension left his body in a matter of seconds. He placed a hand on his chest and exhaled in obvious relief.

“Yes. Yes, you did, love.” He said, shaking his head in amazement as he pulled her into a brief hug. “Shit, R. You bloody terrified me. I thought it was a lucky guess at first, but then you had my middle name too and—Christ, I thought you’d defected! I was afraid I’d have to shoot you right here if you tried anything before I could call someone in.”

R laughed weakly and took a step back from him.

With a delighted grin and a wondrous huff of laughter, he leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms.

“I know you said you’re not one to gamble, but maybe you should buy a lottery ticket on your way home, yeah? That or start a psychic hotline.”

R managed a grin as she sat back down, reaching for her tea with a shaky hand.

“Er. . .Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Q snorted and waved at her to continue.

“You are bloody terrifying when you need to be, did you know that?” She exhaled and took a fortifying sip of her tea.

Q looked rather pleased with himself.

She smiled up at him before continuing.

“You know, I reckon we’d get more of our equipment back if you got angry like that with Double-Oh Seven.”

“I’m, ah, afraid he’s a lost cause,” Q hedged, reaching across his desk for his cuppa. Based on the rising blush and how he avoided her eyes, she got the distinct impression he’d done just that but with a vastly different outcome than what she’d proposed.

They sat in silence as their heart rates returned to a somewhat normal range. By the time they’d finished their tea, they were back to arguing about just which rifle Double-Oh Four should be issued for her upcoming mission.

An alert pinged on Q’s mobile and they grinned sheepishly at each other.

“Back to it, I suppose. . .”

R collected their empty mugs and made it to the door before Q spoke again, his voice quiet.

“Naima?”

She turned back with a soft smile.

“I’m sorry. I know you would never—“

R nodded, not needing words to assure him that he didn’t need to elaborate further. He returned her smile gratefully.

“Um. . .I wouldn’t say anything if you happened to make a bet, you know. It wouldn’t technically be cheating since you guessed correctly and all.”

R laughed.

“And ruin their fun, sir? Absolutely not. Besides,” she unlocked the office door and opened it, giving him a cheeky smile over her shoulder, “you didn’t actually tell me which one was correct.”

-----

(i have no idea what this is?? but i hope it’s clear they’re bros) 

[vixeyfoxworth]

this ain't for the best my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me.

we can't make any promises now can we, babe? but you can make me a drink

BASICS

Name: Victoria Grace Foxworth Nicknames/Alias: Vixey, Vix, occasionally Tori. She really hates being called Vicky and though she’s nice about it if it happens she does address it and ask if they not call her that. Face Claim: Emma Stone Age: Twenty-nine Gender/pronouns: Cis woman / she/her Sexuality: Pansexual. Vixey’s never really felt like she develops feelings based on gender, it’s always based on the human and their connection and character. Date/Place of Birth: June 6th / New York City Currently:  Avonnola Occupation: Actress, previously performing on Broadway

HISTORY

Childhood/Family Life: Vixey grew up in an incredibly loving and supportive home. Her father’s a veterinarian, primarily serving exotic animals, while her mother, a veterinarian primarily serving farm and domestic animals. Her father spent a few years working around the world before her parents met and then after they met they were able to do a bit of traveling thanks to his job. From day one Vixey was taught to love and care for animals always. She was raised vegetarian, using locally sourced animal products. Growing up Vixey thought her parents may push her to pursue their dreams for her but to her surprise they were fully supportive of her little girl as she pursued choir and the theatre clubs in school. From a young age Victoria loved to perform, commanding a room when she walked in without effort, sometimes due to her striking red hair, but most of the time it came naturally thanks to her personality. Due to her parent’s jobs, and her dad eventually opening his own practice, Vixey’s always lived a very comfortable life. Though Vixey was born in New York City, her parents are both from small towns in Tennessee and made sure to expose Vixey to more than just the fast paced city life.  Education: In high school Victoria was a big of a teacher’s pet. She got her undergraduate degree in theatre performance and went on to get her MFA in acting and most of the time questions if she even needs it. Accomplishments: Pursuing her dream of becoming an actress and performing on Broadway. Being nominated for a Tony Award and being nominated and winning various other drama related awards. Completing her master’s degree as that was one of the biggest headaches of her life. Regrets: Vixey isn’t very big on actively regretting things, mostly because she knows if she does she’ll dwell on things and it’ll only make her feel worse. She tends to be incredibly impulsive and can also be jealous so she doesn’t like to give herself time to think too much about actions. She certainly regrets things she’s said to people in the past, especially when she’s been upset. Secrets: tbd.

PERSONALITY

Positives/Virtues/Skills: She’s kind, loving, empathetic, a team player, self-confident, a good listener, and very efficient when it comes to completing a task. Victoria learns fast, she’s a visual learner and loves to collaborate with others. One of her favorite things about performing on stage is that yes, it’s important to pour everything you can into your character for yourself but also for the sake of the show. Unless it’s a one woman show, you’re never truly alone on stage - and even then you’ve got a tech crew truly making you shine. Vixey’s always been very complimentary of her off stage coworkers. She’s reliable in a way but also unreliable in others. If you want someone to help you, she’s your girl, but if you want to go out on the town with someone who will stick by your side the whole night no matter what, she’s probably not because she’s been known to disappear for the night with a partner or with new friends she’s made.

Flaws/Weaknesses/Negatives: Vixey can be jealous and is often stubborn, wanting to make decisions and do things on her own terms, and it isn’t always to her benefit or the benefit of others. Though she can be patient, she tends to have a short fuse and can go off about little things, though she tries to apologize and own up to her mistakes in that regard and has gotten better. She tends to act impulsively, especially when it comes to somewhat non-life altering decisions. Vixey knows if she thinks too long about something she’ll overthink it so she tends to act without thinking. She’s working on it but it still happens.

Personality Type:

ESFP - Entertainer

Likes & Dislikes:

Vixey’s favorite color is red, she loves anything that sparkles, her music taste varies on the day, she’ll listen to almost everything. She took dance classes as a kid and kept up with them through college. She loved playing the piano as a kid and though she doesn’t play anymore she could if she had to. She loves shopping and thanks to her comfortable life has never really had to worry about treating herself every now and then. She’s not necessarily one for designer brands, unless it’s for a special event or she finds them at a discount. Vixey loved a good bargain but often comes across as materialistic thanks to her hobby. She actually doesn’t like going into designer stores, they feel more like a museum than a store to her. She likes to pick up and try things on before buying them and she doesn’t feel super comfortable doing that in those stores. She likes to be in control of a situation, she’s not necessarily bossy and she doesn’t always like to be in charge or in a leadership position but she definitely likes to be in control of her own thing. She loves plants and comfy beds and naps in the afternoon. She hates phone calls and rude comments on her instagram. 

Dreams/Ambitions:

She’s already achieved her dream of becoming an actress and she only hopes to continue that. She’d love to open her own dance studio someday to help others pursue their own dreams. She figures in another life she’d work in a bookshop or library but she isn’t so sure her own need to constantly have something to do would serve her well in a job like that.

Fears:

Abandonment or being left out. As an only child Victoria had a difficult time connecting with other kids right away until her parents finally enrolled her into a preschool program. That didn’t last long, though and it wasn’t until Vixey was in school that she finally had proper interaction. She was often left out of games early on and a lot of kids made fun of her hair, saying he looked like a fire engine but eventually she just focused on the fire part. Later when she began to date she dated.. a lot, but was either left or left before she could be left.

RELATIONSHIPS

Parents: Katherine and Jeff Foxworth Siblings: Victoria is an only child. Children: None, and though she may not admit it, she wouldn’t mind having a big family someday. Spouse: n/a Current Partner: tbd Ex-Partners: tbd Friends: tbd! message me for wanted connections :) Enemies: tbd! message me for wanted connections :)

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

Build: 5′6″, slender, loves to wear heels to appear taller than she is, especially around men who are taller than her. Hair Colour: Red Eye Colour: Hazel Green Distinguishing Marks: Victoria has a tattoo on her left side just under her breast, two butterflies, that she got on a whim after college.

[dipulb3]

Of Rats & Raccoons - I've learned over the years that when it comes to the New York Mets expect the unexpected. Last week was one of those weeks that kind of had it all. It started on Tuesday when the Mets fired hitting coach Chili Davis after sco...

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/of-rats-raccoons-ive-learned-over-the-years-that-when-it-comes-to-the-new-york-mets-expect-the-unexpected-last-week-was-one-of-those-weeks-that-kind-of-had-it-all-it-started-on-tuesday-when-the/

Of Rats & Raccoons - I've learned over the years that when it comes to the New York Mets expect the unexpected. Last week was one of those weeks that kind of had it all. It started on Tuesday when the Mets fired hitting coach Chili Davis after sco...

I’ve learned over the years that when it comes to the New York Mets, expect the unexpected. Last week was one of those weeks that kind of had it all.

It started on Tuesday, when the Mets fired hitting coach Chili Davis after scoring a bunch of runs on Saturday and Sunday in Philadelphia.

The timing was strange. After all, we are only 20-plus games into a 162-game season. But when you hear about a fake hitting coach named “Donnie Stevenson” (actually Pete Alonso alias), and you combine that with a slow start for a bunch of key Mets, sometimes a minor change at hitting coach happens in an organization.

It wasn’t fair to Davis. But whether it was his old-school hitting mentality that didn’t sit well with the Mets front office or a new owner itching for a change and some big wins, it was quite a way to start the week.

Little did I know the drama for the New York Mets was just beginning.

Friday night’s come-from-behind win against the Arizona Diamondbacks was overshadowed entirely by an argument that “may or may not have happened” in the hallway leading to the Mets locker room.

Clearly at the end of the 7th inning, something was off between Francisco Lindor and Jeff McNeil.

It was obvious watching numerous Mets players run into the dugout at the end of the half-inning that something was going down between the middle-infield duo.

After the game, the explanation from Francisco Lindor was very bizarre. He said the brouhaha was the result of a rat or raccoon scurrying around.

It was comical to listen to Lindor and, to a lesser extent, McNeil try to spread the fairy tale.

It doesn’t take a baseball genius to figure out there was clearly a disagreement between McNeil and Lindor. But guess what? That’s okay.

Here’s a dirty little secret: not every teammate loves one another. At times there are fights and disagreements.

Sometimes two guys blowing off a little bit of steam ends up being the best thing for the team. I’d rather hear about two guys putting it behind them and not about rats or raccoons, but hey, that’s me.

I didn’t love the way Lindor handled the situation on Friday night, but the reality of the weekend is that the argument seemed to bring out the best in the two scuffling teammates.

Lindor hit a game-tying home run on Friday night and McNeil homered on Saturday night, propelling the Mets to victories against the Diamondbacks.

The release of pressure by putting it all behind them is maybe the spark to get them both playing better and more relaxed this season.

The Mets will need Lindor and McNeil to deliver big if this team hopes to win a division title.

You could say the same about Jacob deGrom, who we learned on Sunday will have to spend some time on the Injured List.

It’s only the first month of the season, but we’ve had a little bit of everything from the Mets standpoint.

Fired coaches, phantom coaches, injuries, rats and raccoons, but also a winning record.

Strange times, winning times. Go figure.

You can listen to my new podcast New York, New York on The Ringer Podcast Network every Sunday, Tuesday & Thursday night. Download and Subscribe on Spotify and Apple.