#crinkly eyes at level 100

[purplerain16]

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Interesting choice of photo to go along with that quote

[bardcharms]

part 2 of @mothmanalex sending me 4 characters for an ask meme yeehaw!!

DAX

how they smile: confident (and occasionally cocky) closemouthed smile! but if he knows someone well he’ll smile Very Big...open-mouthed, big dimples, nose wrinkled!

“tell” for lying: can’t help but smile and hold extensive eye contact when he’s lying...he’s not very good at it

posture: a bit slouchy, shoulders forward unless he’s feeling particularly confident in himself

speech volume: medium! always makes sure he’s able to be heard

nervous tics: taps his fingers rapidly on the nearest surface or limb, runs his fingers through his hair

eye contact: yeah usually

how close do they stand to others in a group conversation: stands a little apart, his social bubble is a bit bigger than most just cause he’s pretty large himself

what they do with their hands while standing: he’s almost always doing something with his hands but if there’s nothing to fiddle with, he’ll just stand with his hands at his sides or resting on the sides of his tummy

footstep sounds: quick and uneven, sometimes a little heavy

nonverbal greetings: small wave and smile, the “bro” nod where you nod like...upwards instead of downwards

how they get someone’s attention: a gentle hand on the shoulder or back, but only while in someone’s field of vision? otherwise a simple “hey, ‘scuse me” will suffice

LAN

how they smile: BIG goofy smile, 100% of smiley muscles in use at all times. crinkly nose, crinkly eyes, big wide grins

“tell” for lying: they’re awful at it, very obvious rigid stance + shaky voice, and they wring their hands cause their hands get all sweaty

posture: shoulders back, back arched, always standing up straight, very good posture

speech volume: medium, but their high pitch makes them A Little Loud Sometimes

nervous tics: a lot of verbal tics, they’d stutter and re-start sentences a lot, they also have restless limbs (especially arms)

eye contact: only when explicitly necessary, or if they’re trying to be polite

how close do they stand to others in a group conversation: they will stand directly next to your legs even despite having to look up a good 3 or so feet to see anyone’s face and No One Can Stop Them. personal space? it’s their space now

what they do with their hands while standing: they steeple their fingers or tap them against each other, or keep their hands in any of their (excessive, multiple) pockets

footstep sounds: lightweight, very quick and uneven

nonverbal greetings: they’d give folks a full-body wave, leaning sideways and waving with their whole entire arm just cause they can’t say hello fast enough

how they get someone’s attention: a very loud “excuse me!” from 3 feet below eye level, and if that doesn’t work they gently tug on people’s clothes

[vex-bittys]

Eldritch Reunion: It’s Not a Phase

Drabble request featuring the Old Ones from the Cthulhu Mythos by H. P. Lovecraft and Black Hat from Villainos, a series of Cartoon Network shorts.

When your common moniker is “The Old Ones,” you tend not to rush. a disregard for the laws of nature and reality also leads to a disregard for terms such as “annual” and “do not eat.” I mean, if they don’t want you to eat the silica packets, maybe they shouldn’t make them so delicious, but I digress (because I can).

The time had come for our somewhat-annual-if-years-were-eons Eldritch family gathering. Some of the older Old Ones were eager to see what the youngsters had been up to since their own respective heydays. Auntie Cthylla hovered near the h’ors d’oeuvres, berating the shaggoth caterers for serving calamari. Pop-Pop didn’t have his hearing aides in, so he spoke far too loudly and kept interrupting people by bellowing “WHAT?” when they were in the middle of a sentence.

Imagine my relief when the younger crowd showed up. Slys and Chad were the youngest Old Ones, and by far the most in touch with our version of reality.

“Slys!” I screeched happily, rattling the fabric of time and space as I leaned forward to receive a crinkly paper bag kiss on each cheek. “Finally! You’re late... or early... or something,” I said with a laugh.

“Whenever I arrive, it becomes right on time,” said the saucy Eldritch creature with a wink. “And I brought Chad this... year... era... quadrangle?”

“Oh... um... good?” I laughed reluctantly. Times they were a-changing, and the Eldritch horror game wasn’t what it used to be, but Chad... Speak of the Old One, the little punk shoved Slys out of the way to steal the spotlight, which turned out to be a small piece of missing cosmos that one of our other cousins had burped up.

“What’s with the...uh..” I didn’t know how to describe the strange headpiece Slys had disguised himself with. The paper bag over the head schtick was so cliche, but he also wore goggles over it. He’d actually used the goggles to execute the wink.

“It’s my aesthetic,” he explained, possibly hiding a smile. “We’ve been in what passes for the modern human world... and I’m a doctor now. Not one of those slice-and-dice ones though,” he qualified as I processed why he would ever want to learn about silly human bodies. “Did you know that even with all of their ridiculous scientific laws and the confines of physics, humans still found a way to fly?”

I meant to ask some questions about strange flying humans, or perhaps ask why in the thirteen realities he’d want to be Dr. Flug, but someone interrupted our discussion.

Chad cleared his throat several times, doing a few sound checks to make sure his voice had that gravelly, evil undertone that absolutely nobody strives for anymore. “The Great Black Hat has arrived,” he announced regally before pausing, as if we should be applauding.

A loud snort exploded into the silence. Me, sorry. “Slys,” I stage-whispered, “What happened to him? Does he really think he’s a hat?”

Slys gently shushed me. “It’s his-” he coughed and lowered his voice to a barely audible murmur “-villain name.” I wanted to shriek with laughter, but unfortunately, I caught sight of my dad surreptitiously crunching the bones of the DJ when nobody was looking.

By the time I cleared things up at the sound booth (by plugging my iPod into the speakers and turning the volume up to a deafening level), our cousin, Black Hat. had cornered another Old One to brag.

“I own my own business,” bragged Hat-chan.

“We... build gadgets in his mom’s basement,” explained Slys. I giggled, summoning forth a plague upon whatever they called the Western World nowadays.

“We run our commercials under the cover of darkness.”

“He buys late night public television access time.”

“We even have our own catalog!” Chad the Hat stuck his chest out proudly.

“He actually found a Kinko’s to make photocopies at.”

“I think the real question on everyone’s mind is: Did Gomez Addams give him the suit, or did he steal it?” I howled with laughter. That got a reaction out of the Chad Hatter.

His flesh seemed to melt and peel, some sections forming spiked tentacles, others forming gaping maws. Hellish eyes glowed from inside his body, which writhed and folded in on itself. He hissed, a menacing and alarming sound fit for a proper Old One, and it even attracted Pop-Pop Lhu’s attention.

The air displaced by the huge abominations movements emitted a low buzzing sound that shook our bones. Peering down at Chad a.k.a. Black Hat through his bifocals, which he adjusted with an arthritic tentacle, he bellowed in what I’m sure he thought was normal volume.

WHAT’S WRONG WITH CHAD? IS HE GOING THROUGH AN EMU PHASE?

“It’s called an ‘emo phase,' Pop-Pop,” Slys shouted to him, receiving a probably-much-too-hard pat on the head for his assistance. I’m almost 100% positive that Slys is Pop-Pop’s favorite.

“It’s not a phase,” hissed Chad petulantly. “It’s who I am now!”

INDEX