#custom: anais

[lemontartc]

Progress on my River Styxx custom (tentatively named Anais). They had more damage than I thought (to the point where I'm worried I created some of it removing their hair) and stained discoloration pretty much everywhere their hair was touching them. I tried to cover it up with pastels but I think in some places that accentuated it. It's not noticeable head-on, at least.

The first layer was to sketch and do the pastels while the second layer was filling in the brows and lips and painting on the eyes. This was my first time working with paint (I mean... it's my second doll ever and the first is only half finished, but I used to draw with colored pencils a lot so I had familiarity there) and the first thing I put down was the white eyeliner. The moment I did, I went "oh no." It was so messy and wide. It took me awhile to salvage it but I did eventually figure out how to make it passable. I then tried to do the rest of their eyes in pencil before I realized that it just wasn't possible. Some combination of River's skin-tone, the kind of shimmery/translucent plastic her head is made from, and how pale and pastel the colors I wanted to use are made it basically invisible on her (the entire eye is drawn out and even filled in on the first image! You wouldn't know it) so I had to pick up the paints again. I must have gone over each area a dozen times, but I did finally figure it out and I'm happy with how it looks. It doesn't match my plan, but I'd rather it looks good than "accurate."

Layer three darkened up and finished the brows and lips and then added dimension to the eyes. I'm a little on the fence between liking the eyes on the second or third layer more because my perfectionist brain says the irises in the second image are better because they're smoother and blended... but irises don't actually look like that, they have more dimension like I added in the third layer. The image quality is bad for the third one, I know, but I wanted to get the plan sketch in the background too. I still want to give her 3D lashes, but I want them to be white, so I'll have to find some (that aren't expensive since they're "specialty") first and then add some gloss varnish to her eyes and lips before her faceup will be done. Once I've finished the rest of her, I'll take nicer pictures.

In regards to her hair... I considered saving it because I liked the color, but it was matted, dirty, and I hated the bangs. I tried to look up precedent for wigging on top of rooted hair remnants, and I couldn't find anyone doing that specifically, but I did find someone wigging a Gooliope without even removing her hair first, just braiding and tucking it away so the wig can be taken on and off like a normal human one would be. Of course that's on a larger scale than a regular-sized Monster High, but it did make me think I could probably get away with leaving the roots, especially with the hairstyle I'm planning since it does still incorporate bangs that can hide some hairline sins. We'll see how it goes, but if I can avoid removing heads and scraping roots in the future, then I definitely will whenever it won't be obvious. It's a good experiment and I was just really worried around busting her head open trying to get her roots out since she's showing signs of degradation.

[allfortheslay25]

Dreamscapers pt3

All for the Gravity Falls

Text:

Officers: Minyard secured

Minyard: Stupid pigs!

Text:

Young Aaron: I just don’t get why you can come over to my house but you won’t let me go to yours

Young Andrew: if you want me to play, you’ll listen to me

Aaron: fine…

Rundown:

The gang goes looking for the memory of Andrew’s safe code. Anais opens the first cell door she sees. A memory of Minyard being arrested plays before her.

Nicky opens another cell door excitedly but his face falls at the sight of the baby faced Twinyards. There stands Aaron and Andrew about 9 or older. Nicky tears up bcuz they were so little, and here is his supposed dead cousin Andrew. More than that, the bruising on Aaron’s face reminds Nicky how little he did to protect them

Text:

April: hey Neil! Recognize this face?

Neil: wait!

Rundown:

April, not seeing everyone else’s discoveries, goes to a picture frame she recognizes as Neil. She teases him about the fact that he’s the only one with picture frames before she opens the door. Neil, worried about what the memory might expose, calls for her to wait but April opens the frame anyway

Text:

Neil: You can’t smoke in here

Minyard: Gonna tattle, Josten?

Neil: nope.

Minyard: Stealin’ again? Jaxkass

Neil: admit it, you like me

Minyard: I hate you

Neil: the girls seemed to think otherwise

Minyard:…

Neil: I see…

Text:

Minyard: I hate you, doesn’t mean—

Rundown:

A memory that takes place sometime after the Deep End ep, Neil is cleaning up Sweeties after hours as Minyard loiters at a table, smoking. Neil chastises him for it as part of his job but instantly starts some light banter. Neil has started flirting with Minyard these days but when Minyard says he hates him, he thinks he must have been reading signals wrong or maybe the girls were pulling his leg.

Minyard doesn’t like that look on Neil’s face and uses the line “doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you”

Neil comes in to slam the frame close before it shows how far they went.

Notes:

- Despite their blatant flirting in the memory, everyone brushes it off since they believe they’d know if Minyard and Neil had a thing going on

- Neil closes the frame to protect Minyard’s privacy, shield April from inappropriate language, and because he’s embarrassed by how he threw himself at Minyard just to realize now how curt and cold his responses actually were (Neil’s just in his head and doubting his relationship)

- I cover up Andrew in the memory of him and Aaron to show how Nicky believes it to be Aaron’s memory of the event

- the original memory I had planned Anais to stumble upon was of Andrew already in prison but then I realized none of his prison memories would have been appropriate for her

- Neil was fired that day at the diner after his boss found him with his tongue down a customers throat

[diamondnokouzai]

The Facts of the Case:

THE WATTERSON FAMILY:

Nicole and Richard Watterson, 30s. Richard is a pink stay-at-home rabbit dad and seems to have some kind of intellectual disability, severe enough for it to be sort of a "I Am Sam" situation; Nicole is a blue cat employed with customer complaints. Due to being a single-income family with three dependents and numerous medical and legal costs incurred by Richard's disability. Nicole also has anger issues; the relationship is certainly toxic, if not outright abusive.

Gumball Watterson, age 12. A blue cat who seems to have ADHD and transfeminine tendencies (He wore his mom's wedding dress for his whole day and his contrived nickname was just...his name, occasionally crossdresses in pretend games, has feminine hobbies, has expressed the thought at puberty (voice changes, looking more like his father, etc.)). Has poor grades in school, possibly trauma-related (after his "Granny Jojo" kissed him on the lips, Gumball dumpster dove (among other, more disgusting things) in order to forget; counselors have attempted to put their spit on his buttocks after counselor spat in his hands); as his teacher is the elderly “Miss Simian”, he may associate her stern behavior with painful responses at home. Has been the victim of bullying in the past, is self-admittedly “spineless”, but still seems to have an inflated ego. Emotionally late in development. Physically unfit and unmotivated; occasional auto-masochistic tendencies? A victim of bullying at school. The school nurse has sworn deposition that Miss Simian “tortured” Gumball and Darwin in an afterschool detention, including throwing cough syrup on the children.

Darwin (II) Watterson, age 10. A goldfish who grew legs and doesn’t wear pants. Alternately described as a foster son and a pet. Seems happy with this status, but seems delusionally happy with everything in his life (led Gumball’s aforementioned dumpster diving, speaks to rats on the street, hallucinates faces on trees). There are occasional references to “Gumball I”, a dead fish. Inadequate sleeping arrangements (sleeps in an undersized goldfish tank; needs a higher capacity tank. Financial assistance for this pending approval.) Seems approving of Gumball’s transfemininity. Advanced? (Enrolled in the same class as Gumball, possibly due to Elmore being underfunded and having mixed grades.)

Anais Watterson, age 4. An extremely advanced (she seems to be more intelligent and responsible than her father) pink bunny who seems desperate for approval. Stifled by her family, but she insists that she loves them (her family often infantilizes her and rarely listen to her needs and wants). Gets along well with her family.

All three

The aforementioned will now be referred to as THE WATTERSONS. THE WATTERSONS would like it to be noted that they are currently in debt (anywhere from $800,000 to the upper millions) and embroiled in other legal difficulties (see Legal Difficulties of The Watterson Family, Dr. Jennifer Strauss, Columbia Press, 2011) due to Richard’s and Gumball’s disabilities.

THE WATTERSONS described above is related legally to “Granny Jojo”, an elderly pink bunny and the mother of Richard. Stifled Richard to the point that she may have contributed to his mental disabilites. In a controlling relationship with her husband.

There are two principal incidents involving “Granny Jojo”. The first is referred to in documents and by the family as THE DRESSING ROOM INCIDENT; it involved “a shut door that was not a ‘locked’ door”, a dressing room [small cubicle for trying on clothing at a clothing store], and Granny Jojo (hereafter GJ). Mentions of said incident cause Gumball Watterson (hereafter GW) to shudder in disgust, and he moves on quickly from the subject. The second incident is focused on in great detail and is the subject of this case.

In the second incident, GJ kissed GW on the lips when she came to visit the family. Nicole and Richard left before Richard’s mother arrived, as was customary (they frequently left looking harried, once with Richard in the trunk of the family vehicle). GJ ordered Anais to take her luggage upstairs without helping her and sat down on the sofa to watch “her shows” according to Darwin. The luggage was later thrown out of the front window.

Gumball was frozen in catatonia on the street after this incident without Granny Jojo noticing. Gumball expressed his verbal discomfort to Darwin, who encouraged GW to “forget about it” and “find his happy place”, Darwin was later seen speaking to non-sentient rodents, dollar bills, and trash. When GW could not forget the incident, Darwin led GW through a series of insulting and publicly humiliating incidents—he was forced to dumpster dive, forced to ingest his father’s bodily fluids (without Richard’s knowledge), and forced between a classmate’s toes (Hector, a 90 foot tall yeti). Over the course of these few days, GJ did not notice or report GW’s absence. Once he had finally forgotten the incident, he returned home days later as GJ was leaving the residence. GJ then kissed GW on the lips again, rendering him catatonic on the streets again for an unknown amount of time. When Nicole and Richard returned, they did not notice GW’s state and left him on the street as night fell.

The evidence as it stands:

Nicole is married to a man (equivalent) with severe intellectual disabilities; presumably he is drawing on social assistance of some kind.

GW is transfeminine to some degree

GW has had two “incidents” with GJ

Both incidents disgusted GW

Neither Anais nor Darwin expressed any discomfort with GJ

GJ does not live with THE WATTERSONS

Anais seems to feel to some degree responsible for GW

GW has undergone a legal name change (from Zac)

The principal has also exposed himself to GW

Assume highest quality conditions of all social services, financial assistance, etc.

[mvneaten]

౨ৎ ₊˚﹒✶ JANUARY 15TH MARKED PRIM’S 26th birthday. to celebrate the milestone, the idol had an industry wide birthday party, choosing to spend her special day beachside at doellette’s very own exclusive OPULENCE RESORT. given the expensive location and expansive guest list, it was compared to a red carpet event rather than a ‘small get together’ — as primrose had labelled it. the all exclusive party had the presence of press, with professional photographers also present to capture pictures of the night, filled with dinner, dancing and music.

the idols in attendance included prim and the rest of social suicide, darling mine’s doe, heyday’s elias and gyujin, soloists kaori and jang-mi ( @sug4rsweet &&. @rosesnthornz), venus’ bliss (@venusvity), lunarix’s navi (@mediadollz), allume’s jamie (@alllume), krush’s kaleina and aeri (@urmykrushhh), rule of rose’s darling and janelle (@bludthirst), merveille’s anais and dove (@story6ook), hashtag’s yoora and yeonhee (@hshtag), starcrush’s sunday and star (@stariified), plastic flowers’ serin (@plasticflwrs), lucid’s suyin (@dr3amluc1d) &&. lucky’s han and hiro (@lvcky0ne).

౨ৎ ₊˚﹒✶ THE LOOKBOOK !

—— the theme for event was white glam, with prim showing up in a pearl skirt and corset she had custom made for the night. guests were to enter via a white carpet, in contrast to red, to further fit the theme. nana’s outfit was a simple white dress with a large jacket and fur boots, along with a fur purse. bae instead opted for something more chic, wearing a white dress with a fur edge that extended towards the back. fans got a first look at the girls’ outfits for the night on prim’s official instagram, where she posted the three of them with the caption ‘🤍🤍’.

౨ৎ ₊˚﹒✶ THE PHOTOBOOK !

—— prim spent most of night taking photos of the event, taking selfies with the others in attendance and just trying to capture every moment of the night. her story, along with the stories of nana and bae, were filled with photos from the night. the most notable post was of nana the the rest of the party together on the white carpet, captioned ‘this night was so special because of all of you <;3’

౨ৎ ₊˚﹒✶ THE EVENT !

—— the night was highlighted by it’s dinner, with a range of courses on offer for those in attendance to enjoy, accompanied by music and dancing. taking place in opulence’s ballroom, the party also had access to the beach behind them, watching the sun set as they all shared cocktails before the official party started. some snuck away to swim, while others instead opted to stay inside and enjoy the ambience. regardless of how guests chose to spend it, it was a fun night for all involved. towards the end, bae gave a toast for the birthday girl, wishing her “a life full of love and laughs.”

౨ৎ ₊˚﹒✶ HAVE ANYTHING YOU WANT TO SHARE ?

if you were in attendance of the party that night, share the experience with the tag #primsbbb !! feel free to share your outfits, photos, and anything interesting that may have happened at the party ! everyone who was there will also receive an exclusive press interview – so keep an eye on your ask boxes !

[cuntrytaylor]

my little 2025 moodboard

+ my ins and outs:

in:

- swans

- settling into yourself

- reading books duh

- oysters as an aesthetic object not food

- pale blue

- handmade gifts

- long curly hair

- mixing black and brown leathers

- elle fanning

- champagne towers

- bedtime routines

- silver

- a melancholy soul and a wistful spirit

- beaded veils

- london fog lattes

- lace

- monotony

- the sound of music

- cast iron cookware

- paris

- snack cakes/loaves

- wired headphones

- archival research

- danish midcentury candlestick holders

- magdalena bay

- pale mustard yellow

- silk bandanas

- textile arts

- pearls

- burgundy lipstick

- little house on the prarie

- the words "ingenue", "fortitude", and "belvedere"

- point and shoot cameras

- anais nin

- mossy tree roots

- cloche hats

- embroidered personalization

- braids

- jade, the stone and the artist

- toasted sandwiches

- collages

- pope francis

- upcycled clothing

- obscenely long biographies

- cursive letter f

- burlesque

- custom door knockers

- olive green

- olives in general

- snowstorms

- original fireplaces that no longer work

- french bobs

- caramelized onions

- paloma wool

- magazine subscriptions

- champagne towers

- matching pajama sets

- experimental jazz

- manitoba

- vivienne westwood

- black and white cats

- crossword puzzles

- white linen

- being 27

- nostalgia for the past but in a despondent way not a pleasant way

- agatha christie novels

- violins and flutes

- tile mosaics

- shimmery things

- books stacked wherever in a home

out:

- thinking you're ugly

- elon musk

- artificial intelligence

- $20 cocktails

- musicals

- tabis

- bright stripes

- taylor swift

- obsessing about things you hate hence how short this list is

[msweebyness]

DuPont School for Monstrous Youths- Eloise Matuidi

🎶Don’t unplug her, or sh-shut her down!🎶 Eloise is powered up and joining the scene! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

Species: Robot (Modern Tech)

Appearance/Attire: Short, black hair made of metal wire in a bob cut, Chrome antenna with red sensors on left side of head, Green power button in center of forehead, Fiberglass eyes with glowing pale green irises, constantly displaying data transmission numbers, shiny chrome skin with orifices at joints that glow with green energy, rocket boosters in feet and hands, short and slender build. Headband made of braided copper wire, bright green polo shirt, steel gray choker with red buttons, metallic gray cardigan, fingerless green gloves, khaki pants with a circuitry designed belt, red leather penny loafers.

Bio: As logical and even-tempered as they come, Eloise was built only recently with all the latest digital enhancements. With the intellect of at least five people, especially in the field of mathematics, she’s one of the school’s leading stars in academics. While a loyal and dedicated friend, Eloise often struggles with understanding ‘organic’ concepts such as emotions, especially since those she’s programmed to feel aren’t as strong as the real thing. This can cause her to come off as cold and apathetic when she doesn’t really mean to. However, she does her best to understand and is always willing to lend a hand modicum when someone needs help with their studies. She may be an artificial being, but she cares for real, especially about her best friend Anais.

Quotes:

“I apologize, I am not certain what emotion I am to express at this time.”

“Is this a custom of organic beings I’m unaware of?”

“One moment, my data receptors can only take in so much at one instance.”

“Deciphering complex equations is a calming process for me when my circuits are overheating.”

“Emotional systems overloading. Please hold for a moment while rebooting process commences.”

“I understand that in situations such as this, a hug is a good solution?”

She’s a bot, but the good kind! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[voidsdamned]

Wicked Natures - The Ghoul/OC (Female Character) Chapter Thirteen

Summary: Bounty hunters are frequent customers at Mulholland's Saloon, and Rue's taken quite a shine to one gunslinger in particular: a cantankerous, old Ghoul in a tattered duster. Witness her unabashedly lust after him in all his irradiated glory (as we are all currently doing), as well as navigate the precarious relationship she unfortunately has with local law enforcement.

Minors, do not interact.

Content Warnings: the usual swearing, use of alcohol, mentions of prostitution, murder.

Enjoy <3

Chapter Thirteen: Wrong Decision

The spot on the floor sort of looks like a dog: a big, fluffy one with a dopey, squishable face Rue would very much like to season with kisses. She’d like to give it a hug around the neck, bury her face in its fur, and take a nap. She’d like it if the dog was big enough for her to take a nap on –so big she could lie on its side and sink down into it like a mattress.

Hell, she’d just like a nap after days and days of Deck’s ridiculous, early-morning nit-picking and the long, tiresome nights that follow. Nights where she gets two or so hours of sleep at most because she works so damn late and Deck’s developed this irksome habit of popping in at the ass-crack of dawn for a breakfast Rue doesn’t want –doesn’t have the energy– to make.

The sheriff’s gone now. He left around noon for out-of-town business that’s supposed to keep him tied up for a week or two, and such news nearly brought Rue to tears of relief and joy. She’s still tired, though, and the only thing keeping her going is the promise of a late-morning sleep. But the prospect of lying down and petting the floor-spot dog is sorely tempting.

“Rue, honey, you there?”

Her fuzzy, heavy, half-not-in-her-head brain perks at her name. At the slow, concerned tone of Bo Fortenberry. She glances to him, not fond of the furrow-browed look on his face, and then her eyes go right back to the floor. She points at the spot.

“That look like a dog to you?”

“Huh.” Bo makes a teeth-kissing, curious sound. “Kinda?”

“More like a chicken to me,” Len Thomas comments, peering over the edge of the table. “That dirt or just the way the wood warps?”

“Better not be dirt,” Rue grumbles, scrubbing at the dog spot with the toe of her boot. It doesn’t move. Doesn’t have any sort of texture to it other than wood grain. “Tired of scrubbin’ the damn floors….” She decides it’s just the wood grain and sighs before shooting a grin at her table. “I completely forgot if I was comin’ or goin’. You boys need anything?”

Three out of four boys shake their heads in the negative, but Gen Guthrie bobs his as he takes a big gulp of beer.

“Just to know how long the waitin’ list is on… Ana? Anis?” Gen sets his beer down, head cocking and brows scrunching. “Annie?”

“Second one was closest,” Rue tells him, fingergunning. “Anais. And buddy, ya might not get a spot for months. She really knows how to –and I’m quotin’ Brent Mahonne directly here, ‘Lay it on a guy.’ So, I’m guessin’ she’s pretty good.”

“Brent Mahonne’s a dog,” Fat Patrick tosses in around a laugh. “Long as it’s got a hole, he’d fuck it.”

Rue believes it. She heard him proposition Adel once, and well… Rue doesn’t like that she’s imagined it, but she thinks cigarette smoke probably billows out of Adel’s cooze the same way it does from her mouth. She wouldn’t go near it. But Brent Mahonne sounded earnest and wanting when he suggested they pop out back.

She decides to not share that with the boys, though. Adel’s been shrieking at her enough as is, and Rue’s sick of it. Instead, she smiles devious and says, “Bet him and gulper fucker are best pals.”

Bo gives a short laugh but corrects her, “Naw, they can’t stand one another –both think the other’s nasty as hell and oughta be shot.” He takes a quick sip of beer. “Personally, I think the gulper fucker’s the worse of the two. Takes a depraved fucker to put their dick in somethin’ dead.”

“So, you’re sayin’ it wouldn’t be as bad if it were live when he did it?” Gen poses.

Bo’s nose scrunches, but he dips his head. “Kinda?”

“Stop talkin’ ‘bout the gulper fucker and dead things,” Len groans, green as a supermutant around the gills. “I just wanna drink my beer without hearin’ ‘bout it.”

“Awe, we’ll leave it alone, Len,” Roo coos, smile soft and teasing. She spares a swink for the rest of the boys. “I’ll come back ‘round in a bit.”

Varied appreciation comes from the table as Rue turns to leave, eyes catching on the dog spot a final time before she drags her gaze away. She has to focus and stop thinking about fluffy things to nap on. There’s a shift to get through, and then her lumpy couch can swallow her up.

Her mind spins back around to her couch often, though. When her arms wobble under the weight of a too-full tray. When Yumi keeps stealing her goddamn drinks. When Rina tells Rue she’s, “Just not feelin’ it,” when a neglected table has Rue go hunting for her. When Adel bids Rue to guess at how many caps Harvey James just offered to get Rue in the broom closet with him. When Hal asks her for the dozenth time tonight to run up the stairs to take drinks to one of the girls’ rooms.

Rue slogs herself up the staircase, a bottle of red wine in the hand that doesn’t pull her heavy body upwards with tugs at the stair rail. On the landing, she hesitates but for a moment before heading towards the room that used to be Lara’s.

Rue couldn’t actually say how long it’s been since Lara left –time runs together for her worse than it ever has– but her absence still feels very new and strange. And she frankly doesn’t like it even though she is glad Lara got to leave. Rue’s glad she’s far away and hopefully enjoying the hell of that tall, muscley boy she landed, but Rue misses Lara as fiercely as she misses hot water (if not more). She misses her honey eyes. Her quick smile. Her secret devilishness. She misses the way Lara would humour her silliness and let her try just about anything with her hair and makeup. She misses talking about nothing. She misses talking about everything. She misses the simple pleasure of sharing the same space.

And then there’s the fact that Anais isn’t very nice or likeable. She’s another Molly. Another Rina and Yumi. She’s rude, demanding, refuses to learn how to work the floor in the server kind of way, mistakenly jealous of how much attention Deck unfortunately gives Rue, and doesn’t know how to do her makeup. But she thinks she does. She gets the spitting, throwing shit kind of mad when Adel sends Rue to her room to fix whatever travesty the courtesan has thrown together.

Rue’s quick about the drink drop. She knocks loud and clear, sets the bottle down, and turns to book it back downstairs.

But then she hears her name come from further down the hall, around the corner one would take to get to Adel’s room.

People talk about Rue all the time, and she used to ignore it. She’d space out or leave it, but ever since Artie, Rue hones in when she hears her name. Something in her pricks and demands to know what is said. It could be important. Something she can use. A warning.

She takes a step down the hall, pausing for just a moment when the door to Lara’s old room parts just a fraction and a freckled hand slithers out to snatch up the wine bottle. The door shuts; Rue moves more steps, careful and slow until she comes to the corner where she takes the quickest of peaks.

Lucky and a man she doesn’t know the name of (but she knows she’s seen hanging around Deck for a little while now) lean into a wide, open window. Cigarettes smoke idly between lips or fingers, curls of grey filtering into the midnight air.

Lucky’s taking a particularly long drag, expelling it with a great sigh. “Well, they think Lara probably begged her for it, and Rue… she’s not altogether there, but she’s sweet. Sweet and simple. She’d give anyone the shirt off her back, and Deck’s pissed Lara took advantage of that.”

Rue pulls back, spine pressing into the wall and heart doing all manners of flip-flops in her chest. That’s bad. She hasn’t heard much, but that’s really, really bad.

“That… that still don’t sound like a good enough reason to send someone after her.”

Rue’s flip-flopping heart splats to the floor. She…. Maybe she’s just misunderstanding the situation? Surely, they’re not talking about Lara having a bounty her. Not Lara. Not Lara who’s never done anything but love someone –who didn’t even ask Rue for help.

“It’s enough for him.”

“…He’s weird ‘bout that one.”

A grumbled, heavily sighed. “Buddy, ya don’t know the half of it. He don’t like it when anyone gets too close to her or when she does anything for anyone other than him. And it’s just been gettin’ worse and worse here lately with everything goin’ on. Her interactin’ with folks here is gettin’ to be too much for him. Can’t tell ya how many times he’s complained ‘bout Bo Fortenberry and his boys or that Ghoul takin’ up too much of her time. He’s even startin’ to get weird ‘bout Hal and… and that Ghoul rancher –shit, what’s her name….” A snap of the fingers. “Ira Jean. Just everyone now. And he’s stuck her in the absolute worse place for him to be this way. But that’s the other half of it! He likes to show her off. He likes hearin’ how bad some people want her. It’s askin’ for fuckin’ disaster.”

Rue’s stomach has joined her heart on the ground, and both sort of just writhe down there. Twisting. Thundering. Her head spins hard. Horribly.

“Makes me think of that off-his-rocker fella he was spinnin’ like a twister ‘bout when I first joined up. Think I ‘member someone sayin’ she patched him up on her porch and that’s what set him off?”

A tired, “Yup. …That was one job I really didn’t wanna do. I was relieved whoever hurt him came back and got him so quick.” Another sigh. “But that’s back in my lap now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Ya see that redhead that stopped in earlier?”

“Uh… blue hat and a .357?”

“Mhm” A quick pause. A vocal exhale. “That’s Geraldine. She brought me a head, claimin’ it was Artie’s. Said she found him down in Two-Sun just wanderin’ ‘round.”

Everything goes out of Rue, goes brittle and cold, and she goes to shaking so violently her vision vibrates. She bites down so hard on her lip she tastes copper, but there’s no pain to it. There’s only rage and a scream she can’t let leave her throat. She has to keep it together. She has to hear the rest.

Rue stares up at the ceiling, blood dribbling down her chin and eyes burning.

“He escaped?”

“Must’ve. Maybe? I dunno that it’s really his head. It’s busted to hell and back, decayed bad, and Geraldine’s got a reputation for fakin’ bounties. …She brought us a head off a raider boss, Macho, a few years back. It was in rough shape –we couldn’t confirm or deny the identity– but we took her at her word. ‘Bout two weeks later, another hunter comes in with Macho’s head in pristine condition. No doubt it was his. So, we had Geraldine brought in, and the only reason she ain’t dead –still doin’ business with us– is ‘cause she coughed the caps up, and… well… she soothed Deck’s ego. If ya catch my drift.”

“Think she’d be dumb enough to try it again?”

“Some people don’t learn. …I decided to not to give her the full bounty. Told her she could wait ‘round for Deck to come back to town and take it up with him. Guess it’s sort of a good sign she’s still here, but I don’t trust her.”

“Don’t reckon I would either….” There comes a lecherous chuckle that firmly boots Rue out of her focus. “But I’d let her soothe my ego.”

Rue barely hears Lucky’s response of, “Fuckin’ dog,” as she pushes away from the wall, as she tries to hold her head and heart and her entire self together. She’s moved into a different frequency. Spiraling away. And all she can think about is getting away. Running and running. She’ll explode if she doesn’t.

She almost falls down the stairs, fumbling the last few steps, and she’s not nearly as dexterous as she usually is as she winds through the main floor of Mulholland’s. She’s not right enough in her own mind to avoid folks, and their voices sound like big-band trumpets. Every accidental brush of another against her burns. Pricks like cactus needles. They… they all kind of look like cacti to her. Just these faceless shapes, all lumpy, spiney, and too close.

A figure is suddenly in her path, and Rue doesn’t even think about stopping. She can’t. She collides, teeth and left shoulder ringing. Everything’s ringing. Vibrating. It’s gone from trumpets to a church bell tolling in her head. It’s loud and terrible, and Rue’s hands clamp over her ears to stop the noise, to keep her skull from rattling apart.

She’s hit again, knocked to the floor. Her ass strikes, rough, splintering wood, sending shocks up her spine. Rue’s spinning eyes stare up, fixing on a red-haired woman in a blue hat that is absolutely ranting and raving. Spitting as she glares down, as she pulls out a shining, .357 magnum and levels it on Rue.

Rue goes very still inside, her scattered world coming into intense focus around the redhead. She speaks a name aloud in question, a breath of confusion, “Geraldine?”

“Who’s fuckin’ askin’?” The redhead’s voice is a temperamental, not-quite shout full of growl and venom. “You need to watch where the fuck you’re goin’.”

Rue tries to stand. The redhead plants a boot in her chest. It hits so hollowly –Rue barely feels it– but it puts her right back on her ass.

“I didn’t say ya could get up, cunt,” probably-Geraldine barks. “Ya owe me a proper apology and some goddamn respect.”

The gun glints in the low light of the saloon. There’s a click of the safety being disengaged.

A complete disconnect occurs in Rue’s mind. She doesn’t realize that she lunges forward or that the .357 fires. She doesn’t realize she’s wrapped herself around the redhead’s legs like a rabid radcoon, bringing her down to harsh floors. And she doesn’t realize she’s screaming. That she’s scrambling or straddling the woman, bringing her netted hands down into a combined fist upon Geraldine’s face over and over again. She doesn’t feel the hot wetness of blood. She doesn’t feel flesh connect with flesh, breaking and splitting.

She doesn’t feel the arms around her, lifting and hauling her back. She can only see herself being pulled away from the redhead, who really is just a red head now. A spreading pool of crimson fluid and fiery strand of slicked hair.

Rue shakes again, whole body pulsating. Her vision blurry and uncertain. Worsening. Wet. The world spins, and she looks up at a ceiling. A terrified face she suddenly recognizes as Hal’s. He looks like he might be shouting. Maybe at her?

The world dims. Air rushes. She can barely see him anymore. Will she see him again? Will Deck kill him for touching her? Will he kill Mrs. Ira Jean for her kindness towards Rue? Murder Bo, Len, Gen, and Fat Patrick for being one of her favourites? The Ghoul for being her favourite.

It’s like trying to move the earth, but Rue manages to reach up. To find Hal’s face. Her slick fingers drag across his stubbly cheek, and she presses them to his lips, tracing a red smile.

“I… c-can’t keep ya s…safe,” she tells him, not hearing the heartbreak to her own voice. The way it wavers. There’s just the way it vibrates up her throat and slips through her lips. “I-I could…could…n’t keep… n-no one sss-safe.”

Her heavy, unseeing eyes slip closed, and Rue feels everything go out of her. Every ounce of anything until she’s just a hollowed-out outline of herself that’s slurped up by warmth and nothing. And that nothing, that darkness that eats her up… it’s really, very nice.

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

Being spat up is miserable. A brief glimpse at something bright, and then having to claw her way towards it. Again and again until Rue snags a sensation, and it’s wretched. A headache which pounds like a drum in her skull. A throat that feels sharply raw. Her limbs are lead and far away, but not as far away as her body. It’s not real at all. Not yet. But then the nausea hits, and Rue is aware of every inch of herself and the intense possibility that she is going to vomit.

She takes slow, deep breaths. She doesn’t want to vomit. She hates to vomit. She’d rather a knife go through her hand. …Shit, she feels like knives have already gone through her everywhere.

“No, her still being unconscious is very normal. Stimpaks can only do so much, especially with multiple injuries involved. And they’re a strain on the human body. A period of deep rest often follows their use, and compounded with the exhaustion physical trauma can cause… she could sleep for another day.”

Rue’s eyes part a fraction at the sound of Doc Nguyen’s voice, that precise and careful cadence. So clear and no-nonsense. So… educational.

There’s a sharp, puffing exhale. “Right, right. If you’re sure she’s fine. Or going to be…. She’s going to be?”

That sounds like Lucky, and Rue can’t figure out why the sound of his voice puts her so on edge. Makes her want to hold her breath.

“Yes, she will, and you can thank Hal for that. If not for him getting her here as quickly as he did, blood loss likely would have taken her.”

“I’ll… uh….” Lucky sounds so winded, so tired. “I’ll most definitely do that. And thank ya, too, Doc. …Will ya send word once she’s up and ready for visitors?”

“I will.”

“Thank ya –again.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good day, Lucky.”

“You too, Doc.”

Footsteps sound against wood flooring. A door opens and closes. Silence follows in its wake, soon broken by a sigh.

The doorknob to the room Rue guesses she was dying in at some point rattles and turns. The door creaks open, allowing the tall, elegant figure of Doc Nguyen to breeze in. She pulls her salt-and-pepper hair out of her face, into a tight bun at the base of her neck, but stops halfway through the motions of it to cut Rue a mild glare.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to know I almost kicked the bucket.” Rue’s voice is hoarse and broken, but it works well enough. “And hell, I fuckin’ feel it.”

Doc Nguyen fights off a grin, finishes tying her hair off, adjusts the glasses perched on the tip of her nose, and grabs a chair from close by, rolling it to Rue’s bedside. “You’re lucid enough, so let’s talk. I know you don’t feel well but describe exactly how you’re feeling to me.”

“Mmm. Not all the way here –like half of me’s still down for the count. But what I do feel aches…. Vomity. Headachy. My throat’s raw.”

The doctor spins away. Rue doesn’t turn her head to watch where she goes because it makes the world go into cartwheels. So, she listens as something slides open and gets rattled around. Doc Nguyen comes back and presses something chalky to Rue’s lips.

“Chew.”

Rue does.

Several more somethings with waxier coatings are held to her mouth. “Hold.”

Rue holds the pills in her mouth. The rim of a bottle is held steady to her lips. She is bid to, “Swallow,” and does so, washing the weird flavours out of her mouth.

“Give it ten minutes.”

“I got all the minutes.”

 The good doctor clicks her tongue. “You almost didn’t have any….” Rue snorts; Nguyen goes on. “Why don’t you use a few of them to tell me what you’ve been doing to get a mild case of radiation sickness.”

Riding a necrotic cowboy into the sunset, but I swear I did a RadAway drip each time after….

But Rue’s obviously not going to say that. She likes Doc Nguyen –she’s been caring for Rue since she came to Dust– and she wants to trust her; but Rue’s secrets don’t feel safe with anyone but herself.

“Indulgin’ in Cram despite knowin’ better.” It’s an easy fib. Believable if she’s been eating the canned meat a little bit too regularly. “It’s so good fried, Nguyen. Ya can’t even taste the decades and decades it’s been marinatin’ in a tin can when ya fry it.”

“I’m going to recommend you quit. If not for keeping your rads down, then for keeping your intestines in working order.”

“I’ll take it into consideration.”

Nguyen sighs. “If I weren’t a doctor, I’d hurt you. Just a little bit.”

Rue grins drowsily. “Only a lil’?”

Doc Nguyen’s lips quirk ever so slightly, but she’s good at squashing her amusement down. She’s straight-faced and not-quite-frowning in an eyeblink. “Moving on. If it’s too foggy or hurts your head, don’t press, but I’d like to know what the last thing you remember is before waking up here.”

“I had a fit?” That’s the only thing Rue can currently guess at. She always ends up in Doc Nguyen’s office in a sorry state when she’s had a fit, and it’s a bit up in the air if she’ll remember the why behind it. Sometimes she does; sometimes she doesn’t. She definitely doesn’t at the moment.

“Yes, but let’s not call it a fit. We’re going to say a mental health crisis.”

“That sounds worse.”

Impatience leaks into an otherwise even, professional tone. “Rue.”

Rue sighs. She knows that voice and that she should probably stop dicking around. “Sorry, Nguyen. Lemme think….”

“Take your time.”

The last thing Rue remembers with any kind of clarity is being at Mulholland’s, running drinks and chatting with tables. How tired and ready for bed she was. At one point, she was thinking about Lara. Missing Lara. It twists at her even now, but there’s something deeper there. A worry she doesn’t understand.

Rue starts over, retracing all her steps. Her morning was average. She was able to do all her normal chores and feed Eggshells before Deck and the three or four boys he’s taken to keeping on him at all times swung by to walk her to work. He bid her goodbye on the saloon’s front porch, pulling her in for a hug that lasted for far too long and ended with a kiss against her hair.

Rue mentally pushes that away, wishing she could erase it completely, but she’s never so lucky as to forget that kind of shit. But she was a little lucky when she went inside the saloon and popped behind the bar to tuck Baby Destiny in her safe place. Hal had saved her a muffin, and Rue scarfed it down in three bites before helping him with stocking glasses. Then she headed upstairs to help the girls get ready, and that was as thrilling and enjoyable as it usually is.

Now that she’s thinking about it, she spent an awful lot of time going up and down the stairs last night because Anais likes to share drinks with her clients. In fact, Rue has a very vivid memory of watching Anais’ arm slip out her cracked bedroom door and snatch up a wine bottle before she… she followed the sound of her name and her heart went to hurricane-ing.

Because Lucky. Because Deck. Because Lara. Because Bo. Because the Ghoul. Because Hal. Because Ira Jean. Because Geraldine. Because… because Artie.

Rue’s sore fingers spastically clench. Her whole body recoils, and she wants to claw out the heart in her chest that goes so tight. That aches and rages and breaks apart bit by bit.

“Rue? Rue, what’s wrong?” A hand comes down gentle on Rue’s bandaged right hand.

Rue stares at it hard, seeing it red stained. Seeing red on floors. Red hair.

“Did I kill that lady?” Rue asks, quietly.

Doc Nguyen is silent for a long moment, and when she speaks, she does so plainly, “You did. One of your blows struck her nose in a very particular way. It shoved the bone into her brain.”

Rue keeps staring at her bandaged hand, through it. Through the thin bedsheets and mattress and all the way down to the hell she never thought existed. But she thinks it might now. She thinks it might be all around her. Demons and figments and bright spots only used to hurt her even worse later.

“You aren’t in trouble for it, Rue,” Doc Nguyen goes on. “Everyone agrees what happened, happened because the other party escalated the situation when she pushed you down and drew her firearm.”

“Nguyen,” Rue says carefully, as calmly as she can muster with her heart and eyes burning like wildfire and her throat so tight on account of tears. “I don’t wanna talk no more.”

“That’s… that’s alright. We don’t have to.” Doc Nguyen’s hand on hers pets so gently. “Is it alright for me to run through my check-up?”

Rue simply nods, not moving another muscle as the doctor does whatever she needs to do.

And Rue’s brain spins through what she needs to do. Or not do. She can’t do anything. She couldn’t save Artie. Lara might have a goddamn, fucking bounty out on her. Everyone who comes into contact with her is in danger because Deck Craven loves her in the most twisted, fucked-up, obsessive way someone could love another. But it’s not love. It’s not right. He’s ruining her life. He’s ending lives. And the universe doesn’t want her to end his –or that’s how it’s really starting to feel. Every attempt she made was foiled, and he’s gone the night she snapped and killed someone.

It shoulda been him. It shoulda been him. It shoulda been him.

She… she doesn’t know what to do anymore. Did she ever? It feels as if she’s made every wrong decision, but they always felt like the only ones she had. She couldn’t run. Bounty hunters would have gotten her. She never wanted to tell a soul what he did, never wanted to drag them into her shit. It was her and Deck’s business. It was never supposed to be anyone else’s. No one else was supposed to die because of her.

Rue’s eyes slip shut, the keen, horrible realization that everything she’s ever done and endured was pointless burrowing deep. Breaking her down so low, making her feel so weak and helpless and small. So, so stupid –as stupid as everyone says she is.

Rue suddenly, desperately, wants her Pa. No, she needs him. She needs him to scoop her up and hold her tight. Needs him to pat her hair and tell her everything is alright, and goddammit, he always made it so. He always knew what to do, and she really fucking doesn’t. She’s just some burnt-brained kid fumbling around, making bigger and bigger messes that get the people she loves killed.

“N-Nguyen,” Rue’s voice is watery, wavering, “do ya still-.” She sniffs, breathing uneven. “Do ya still have my holotape? I-I wanna hear Smile.”

Nguyen looks up from the small, scabbing over cuts on Rue’s knuckles. Her hazel eyes pick over Rue’s face, and for a moment, Rue sees sadness and worry. More kindness she doesn’t deserve. More love she can’t have. But she wants so desperately, that she greedily clings to despite knowing better.

“Of course I do.” Doc Nguyen rises, patting the back of Rue’s hand very carefully before stepping away. “I promised I would keep it safe. I even have a pair of headphones for you this time around if you want to try them.”

Rue can only bob her head, no longer trusting her voice to speak.

[bionibots]

Kiss Me in Komorebi+ | Meet Rune Tégner

Here comes Rune, a very special charming dude for Daniel @rainymoodlet

Name: Rune Tégner | He/Him | Pansexual Age: 36 , 6′3 or 1.93 meters Zodiac: Virgin Traits: Creative, Adventurous, Loves Outdoor Aspiration: (custom) Voice Virtuoso 😏 Career: Lyric Sing-Songwriter (official title at Ministry of Labor) 🤭

Who is Rune Tégner?  This handsome Italian/Swedish multitalented soul is a Simtuber, Songwriter and Daddy. He graduated at Britechester in Fine Arts with a distinguished degree and travelled the world. Has a bunch of hobbies like cooking, doing yoga and fitness, loves to travel, enjoys the nature, knows how to catch fishes. Yeah sit down by the campfire and once he start to play his guitar? Dude, you will be mesmerized by his voice along with his poetic love songs. Rune does believe in love. He is sort of romantic but not in a extreme way. Nothing kitschy nice stuff, you know! 

Backstory, Lifestages Quirks, Fav’ Playlist, and an Interview are below the cut. Maybe I went up and over the horizon.🤪 

PS: If you found some errors - please keep them 😝 getting a bit tired over here. But I’m super thrilled to see who will win Daniels’ heart! Please enjoy him!  🥰 😌

BACKSTORY 

Rune was born in Gothenburg, Sweden. His mother left Italy (Florence) for Gothenburg when she was 19 to work as a principal dancer at the Gothenburg Opera.

Eventually, they moved to Stockholm as his father, Ruben, established a company for mergers and acquisitions, also known as M&A. Tégner M&A Investments is widely known and successful in various sectors globally.

Success has always driven Rune's father. Whenever Rune failed to follow orders, Ruben punished him. He plotted his whole future for him:  Rune was supposed to study economics and be his successor. Once there was a quarrel where Rune rebelled against his father. Ruben hurt him by becoming violent. Hence the nose scar.

He said that creative careers would not bring much bread, that he was nothing special, and would never succeed as an artist. Rune should pursue a more grounded career.

However, their father/son relationship broke at 16 when Rune tried to explain he had a boyfriend. He also explained that he does not mind which gender his partner has. Runes' pansexuality is something his father refused to accept until today. Ruben told him he was not his son. A son of his would never act against nature's laws. In the aftermath, bitterness and deep disappointment arose on both sides. Not a word has Rune exchanged with his father since he moved out. Unlike his mother, she unconditionally loves and accepts her son. Rune has a younger brother. Alarik - he is 16 years younger than him. You guessed it, Ruben wanted another child - a replacement! The young man admires Rune and might be motivated to venture out and pursue his dreams as well.

After coming out at 16, Rune stayed with his first boyfriend.

At Britechester he studied Fine Arts and graduated with a distinguished A+ degree.

After graduation Rune broke up his relationship with is first boyfriend. They drifted apart.

Being single again, he needed some time to explore himself. For the first time in his life, he experienced the freedom to enjoy life. Yes, it was an eye-opener for him. He traveled to Selvadorada, where he learned how to meditate, and Yoga became a new thing. As a result, he developed a love for nature.

Being out in the nature and traveling gave him space to think about his future and what he wanted to achieve in his life.

Rune traveled the world until he met Anais in Tartosa. Not long after, they were both blessed with an adorable son named Elias. Elias is ten now. After almost eight years of dating, he proposed to her and planned on getting married.

One day Rune had a rather crucial meeting with the famous record label Brindle Melodies. Sometimes, though, you find yourself in weird situations when you're stressed. He forgot to take his songs with him. By the time - Rune got home to get the papers, he had to face reality. His fiancée romanced another guy in their bedroom. Surely, you can imagine that Rune called off the engagement, and yes, they broke up. The deal with the record label didn't work out that day, either, due to extreme delays. He canceled the deal.

His relationship collapsed, leaving him angry and disappointed, but instead of arguing, he left her without saying anything to her. He only talked to her about Elias. Elias stayed with his dad because Anais is very success-driven and said she wanted to pursue her career now. 

Rune finally realized that the two didn't have much in common. Both had different perceptions of their lives. They should have never dated each other in the first place. Yet, in conclusion? Rune does not regret it because Elias is the best thing that could have happened to him. Of course, he has obtained custody of his son.

For two years now, he has devoted himself exclusively to his son and his career. As a Simstuber he produces his music videos and writes song lyrics. His loyal followers adore his talent, and his channel is growing - rapidly. Last year he established his first music label 'Tunely Records' with plans to release his first music album soon.

He wrote some special lyrics like: Shades of You, Destiny Smoke, Wild Minds, and a new song is in the pipe: Love or leave.

Rune and Elias have a deep bond together. They are best buddies. So, whoever wants to love Rune? No doubt, they must also make room for Elias in their hearts. Rune is a relationship person. It took him a while to recover, and now after almost three years, Rune is ready to give love another shot.

LIFESTAGES

16yrs: Broken relationship with his father Ruben, came out of the closet as pansexual, moved out

18yrs: Applied to Britechester, received a scholarship due to his musical talent

22yrs: Broke up with his first boyfriend after graduation, He traveled the world.

26yrs: Met Anais, got his son Elias

34yrs: Relationship broke, due to her cheating

36yrs: Single Father, Founder of ‘Tunely Records’, Successful Simtuber and Musician

___________

CHARACTER

Rune is a very private person, who does not like to be the center of attention but he loves music. 

He is logical, practical and systematic

Hyper-aware of every detail, be it food or whatever he does

Perfectionist, sometimes he needs someone to stop him because beauty exists within our imperfection, too.

He hates whoever raises voices when having an argument. If someone does that? Be in the know he will leave the room! He will come back and talk to you when you are calm, again. Now you can talk it out. He has a zero-tolerance regarding any shape of violence be it mentally or physical.

Above all else Rune wants to help.

He is kind, gentle, and supportive towards friends and lovers who use his incredible intellect and resourcefulness to problem-solve. 

He is always striving to provide workable solutions and improve what’s broken. But sometimes you cannot fix what is broken - if it makes no sense he won’t continue trying to fix what’s broken.

A committed and hardworking soul with a passion for guitars and pianos.

He loves all sort of Asian Food - Salmon and Butterflied shrimp Sushi (Sake and Ebi Nigiri) with Wasabi, Ginger and Soy sauce the most. 

QUIRKS

loves cozy bedcovers

skinny dipping is a thing

manicured nails are important

loves rainy days

dislikes smoking

___________

RUNEs Lil’ PLAYLIST

Sam Smith: To Die For

Alec Benjamin: Let me down slowly

Lenny Kravitz: I belong to you

Rag’n’Bone: Human

Jacob Lee: Cursed

Jonathan Roy: Keeping me alive

Garden Gloves: Somewhere Forever

___________

INTERVIEW

Interviewer: Rune - quite an unusual name isn’t it? Rune: [chuckles] In my language? It means “secret or mystery” Would you believe me that I’m from Sweden?  Interviewer:  Well, I would have said rather somewhere from the south. Rune: [smiles] My mum is from Italy, and my father is from Gothenburg.  Interviewer:  Rune, why did you want to join Kiss Me in Komorebi+?  Rune:  I’m here for love. Aren’t we all looking for the one? I mean, look at Daniel! Do I need to say anything else? Who would not want to fall in love with him? Interviewer: I heard you are not much of a TV watcher, so how did you learn about him? Rune: [chuckles] Yeah, not much my cup of tea. I spend the day outside with my son on the basketball court in San My.  Saw a billboard advert with handsome Daniel. Did some research, checked some clips, and here I am.   Interviewer:  Research, good point. We did our homework, too. We have some juicy stuff about you on our plate.  Rune:  Of course you do. What do you want to know? Interviewer: Tégner Investments, are you related to Ruben Tégner? Rune: [tense] Yes. We are related, but we are not close, though!  Interviewer:  [notices the change in his body language] All right. Well, you have a music channel on Simtube, too. Your fans adore you. How come we haven't heard about you yet? Rune: I will get there, eventually. I established my record label. At some point, I will publish my first music album.  Interviewer: Sounds intriguing. You're a musician, songwriter, traveler, and single father aka. DILF.  Do you live alone with him in San My? Rune:  [ignores the Word Dilf] You mean my ten-year-old son? Interviewer:  Well, yeah. Elias, right? You used to be engaged to your fiancé. Is that true? Rune:  Yes, my son is Elias. And yes, I called it off. With the emphasis, I used to be engaged. That’s correct. Interviewer: Can we know why? Rune: I think - that’s a private topic! And for Daniel to find out. Wouldn’t you agree? Interviewer: You are not much of a talker, huh? Rune: [smiles] Depends on who asks. Interviewer:  [smiles back] Rune Tégner, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for joining us today. Rune: Pleasure is all mine. Thanks for having me.

[libertyy-belle]

THE GOLDEN GATE || CHAPTER 2

7 YEARS LATER

It was in the early afternoon, and the bell above the door caught my attention — an older man sauntered into the main den.  His dark eyes scanned the room as if looking for threats.

Upon finding none, it seemed, he continued on his way. Easing down on a stool in front of the counter. His rough palms placed down on the island, a tired exhale following as he looked at me. 

I couldn't help but blink mindlessly at him, the energy he cast drawing the attention of the remaining customers and myself. 

I looked around momentarily, seeing if I could spot my father within the den of our tavern; in case something were to happen. He was nowhere in sight.

"What kind of whiskey you got, younglin'?" He rasped, drumming his fingers onto the counter with quiet thuds.

"Single malt, blended-" I began before his hand lifted and quickly silenced me.

"Just get me something strong, aye?" 

I only nodded, fetching what he had asked. 

The atmosphere was tense, though the conversations about the tavern had continued. Most of the sailors who had taken seats remained unmoved, glancing at the man in front of me occasionally. As I made his drink, I looked at him through the wisps of blonde that were enough to shield my observing eyes.

He looked a little bit older, worn in more ways than one. His gray hair was long enough to brush his shoulders, strands tucked away behind his ears. Scars lined his face, and I couldn’t help but wonder where he could have possibly gotten them from. 

I offered the glass, and almost as quickly as it was given, it was gone. Then, releasing a few puckers of his mouth, he grunted and nodded. 

"Is there anything else I can get you?" I choked out, quickly clearing the anxiety from my throat. "Food?"

He shook his head before settling his gaze onto mine. Then, lips morphing to a tight frown, he leaned forward, inspecting my face. 

"What is your name, lass?" he inquired over the rim of his empty drink, tapping it a few times with his pointer finger before sliding it back toward me.

“Anais,” I said, trying my best to keep cordial.

“You are a little young to run a tavern, no?” he said, now amused in his demeanor as I let out a soft scoff.

“My parents run the tavern, I only help keep things in order.”

“You look tough enough to handle your own, ever been outside Luthersburg?”

I shook my head, my life thus far had been confined to home. After all, there was no need with Luthersburg being a port city on the Eastern coast. As much as I loved it, things had grown monotonous.

“Sounds boring,” he noted as if reading my thoughts. “Though I can tell you have had some adventure, there is a glint in your eye.”

“If you count trekking down to the docks to count passing ships' an adventure, then I have plenty of stories to tell.” 

He boasted a hearty laugh, “No, lass, I meant more than just passing ships.”

I blinked at him, confused about what he could mean by such an implication. 

"What do you mean then?" I inquired.

"The Bastards of Jaezred."

The story of the two brothers and the war they created was spread through the lands, but only bits and pieces of the story I knew by heart. Jaezred, Prince of Inquity, and his brother Josian, the Prince of Peace.

"I am not sure what you mean by that; I am not a follower of Jaezred," I said quietly now, worried about eavesdroppers.

Followers of Jaezred were cursed magical creatures who plagued the forests nearby and terrorized the townsfolk. Though they had frequented Luthersburg less, their presence after the War was not completely forgone like their master.

"I see plainly that you are not," he said, looking over me just a moment "You have seen them, though."

I froze in my movement to gather his second drink of the night. But, of course, there wasn't any way he could have known that. I hadn't even told my parents what had happened that evening in the forest east.

"Aye, I am right." He said, now a small smile lifting on his thin chapped lips. "They say those who look into the eyes of one of those fiends hold significant weight. There is a certain glint I have grown used to."

I tried to think better of it and let it go, but my curiosity pushed the words from my chest, "How would you know?" 

The man rolled up his beaten-up sleeve, cuffing it at his elbow. On his forearm stood a symbol I had seen only in the tattered books in the library. The sign of Josian. 

I dipped my head in respect. "It is an honor, sir." 

Following the Prince of Peace was a great honor; anyone who took heed to his principles was admired.

During the aftermath of the war, it was those followers who helped rebuild. They were healers, often spreading love and unity among those who survived. 

"No need to be so formal; my days of serving were long ago. I am only a wanderer now." He motioned again to the drink I had paused making. I continued finishing it as he spoke again. "Unfortunately, the cases of meeting those rotten things are on the rise."

"I barely remember it; I was very young," I admitted, most of the memory of that day blocked out. So I couldn't remember it even if I wanted to. Which I did not.

"Few people live to tell the tale; how did you escape?" He pressed further as I handed him the drink.

"Like I said, I barely remember." A quick shrug of my shoulders followed. He hadn't seemed very pleased with this response.

"Alright." He plainly put, before lifting the drink to his lips, nursing it more than the prior one.

"What was it like- serving Josian?" I couldn't help but ask after a few beats of awkward silence.

His face fell into one of reminiscence. "It had its moments. I never met him myself, though others had. He was a kind man." 

"And his brothers?" I almost interrupted, but with a small breath, I steadied my curiosity.

"His brothers were troublemakers. I am sure you already know about his twin," he took another long sip of his drink before resting it on the counter. "They had a younger brother as well named Saeros. A great swordsman and the strongest warrior in the pursuit of the Gate."

My elbows were set on the counter, chin resting neatly in my palms as I intently listened to him. 

"Were they all dragon born?" I asked after a pause, leaning forward. 

"Aye, they were. Not much is known about how they came to be, but they all were created in the same fire. The Fire of Men is said to be our earth's first fire." He drank the remaining liquid in the glass, letting out a puff of air from his nose.

I bobbed my head slowly as I took in everything said so far. I felt some remorse for neglecting the other customers, but it was not every day you could hear of the past firsthand. "The Gate, is it true it was lost after the end of the battle– and the twin Princes were said to have disappeared– were they ever found?" 

"Aye, it was lost. Vanished alongside their Highnesses," He didn’t seem too bothered by my interest, "I think it is my turn to ask the questions." He noted, leaning back some as his arms crossed over. I sighed, lofting a palm to gesture for him to begin questioning.

"Where did you see it?" He began.

"The forest east of here, I had gotten lost as a child when I went to find berries for my sister, and I's pie." I gestured toward the window, the looming forest not too far up on the hill.

"Go on." He drew out impatiently.

"I am honest when I tell you I remember very little, though I can recall the eyes. They were so cold and dark. I had never seen anyone's eyes look like that." 

I explained, feeling my body go cold as I saw them in my memory.

He spat down beside him on the floor, his face growing bitter. "I have seen it before. It is enough to paralyze any man."

"It had killed someone. I had found it feasting on the remains. I wanted to run, but I couldn't. It was just staring at me." I placed my face into my hands, exhaling a shaky breath. "It didn't attack me.”

I didn’t wish to relay any more of the story, he wouldn’t have believed me even if I did tell him. The knitting of his brows, though, told me he knew there was more to the story than what I was telling.

“What happened next?”

“It simply ran away, that is all.” I took his now empty glass, placing it on the back counter to wash.

I heard his skeptical hum from behind me as I shifted on my feet, trying to look busy to distract him from pressing further. To no avail.

“I have run into quite a bit of those nasty pigs, it is unusual for them to leave prey unharmed,” I felt his eyes burning into the back of my head. “You can tell me the truth, kid, I am not going to judge you.”

I felt silly thinking that he would. If he truly was a Josian follower- then he had been in runs with those creatures before. 

“It was going to kill me, I just knew it,” I swallowed hard, slowly turning back to face him. “So I closed my eyes and waited when there was this bright light.”

 “A light?” he grew still, face falling flat. I was worried I had said something wrong but within his gaze, I saw that it was intrigue that pressed forward. 

“When I opened my eyes again I was back here, home. Like nothing had ever happened.”

“Interesting.” he cleared his throat, the pressing want for more information left his expression as he settled down. “It is growing late, do you think we could speak tomorrow?”

“Whatever for, do you know what happened?” I asked, surprised by the sudden shifts in his demeanor. 

“Expect to see me sometime in the afternoon.” he put simply, not waiting for me to decline.

“Is everything-” 

“Thank you for the drinks, kid, I will see you in the afternoon tomorrow.” he interrupted, piling a few coins onto the counter before leaving abruptly.

My mouth hung as open as the door he quickly left through, staring ahead as it swung shut. 

It was only a moment or two after that my father came around the corner from the kitchen behind the bar, looking at me with a lifted brow. 

“You are gaping like a fish, Anais, what is the matter?”

I was at a loss for words, scrambling to find a response. “There was just a man here, he was acting so strange and left in a hurry.”

“Those damn drunken sea rats, never mind him,” he scoffed, rolling his tired shoulders back before grinning. “I should be puckering like a fish too- you are down here helping without any gripe!”

“How cruel I would be to forsake you of my company, Papa,” A hint of a sly smile curving on my lips. There was nothing like his company to take my mind away from the weird interaction I had just encountered.

“Ah! Cruel indeed, though I think it is much crueler for you to leave me to dry all these damned dishes alone,” griped my old man, tossing a rag in my direction.

I fumbled to catch it and to my satisfaction, I managed to snag it the moment before it hit the dirty floor. 

–

My mother returned with a canvas tote brimming with items. Ingredients, I assumed, for the dinner crowd. With a huff, she dropped the bag on top of the counter.

"You know, I really wish you girls would get up earlier to help me with my trip to the Square." she sighed.

Her lips pursed, and those bright grey eyes pierced directly into mine. "I am not getting younger — and my back hurts terribly from the cold."

Winter had barely passed, and most were thankful, considering it had been a rough patch for the town, but we managed well. The cold brought people in for warm cider and they tipped well for it. 

"Look what you've done to your poor mother, her back!" My father dramatically elected, turning his head to look at me with his hands aloft in the air. He grinned, finding all of it rather amusing.

"George," Warned my mother with a low hum, her piercing glare now set onto him. His palms lifted in defense, and the grin quickly faded.

His throat cleared. 

"Yes, Anais, what your mother has said… Tomorrow you will get up earlier and go to the market."

I couldn't help the groan that escaped me, though I quickly regretted it.

"My poor bones- and yet you groan! You have no sympathy for me. I carried you for months! I bathed and raised you! Yet you groan," she paused her fit, "Well, you can groan all the way to the Square tomorrow when you pick up the order of meat I placed." She then said with a cheeky grin.

"That will be heaps to carry, Mama!" I quickly cried.

"Marlene and yourself are hearty girls! I am sure you can manage." she proudly responded.

There was no point in arguing any longer. Once Mother had made a decision— there was no straying from it. 

The back door swung open to reveal my younger sister, chirpy. Skipping in, she suddenly stopped as she saw the three of us at the counter. Then, quickly, she spun, heading back whence she came.

"Not so fast!" My mother's voice caused her to abruptly halt in her step. "You will help Anais pick up the order tomorrow. Bright and early," Mother said, her fists placed sternly on her hips.

"Not the meat, Mother! Anything but that. It is so heavy," Marlene sighed, "And if I do not pick the flowers in the morning, they are just not the same." retorted my sister, shaking her head viciously. 

"If you do not, I will return those ritzy shoes you bought and use the money for feed.”

The look on my sister's face was enough to let a small giggle pass my lips. Pure mortification and then frustration at the snort I heaved. 

My mother turned to me, narrowing her eyes. My laughs ceased shortly after for fear of the repercussions. My father moved to rub a hand on her back, soothing her frailed nerves and causing her face to soften. The smile she gave beamed up at him with a fondness I had never seen her without.

It was moments like these that I felt the true abundance of love for my family, even within our bickering we held great weight for each other. 

There was no more said on the matter, for another band of customers had arrived. My mother returned to the kitchen to prepare lunch while my father poured the requested drinks. 

[thiefscant]

i spoke to @crowshoots about this ages ago but there was a moment when anais was about 14 or 15 when they tried to steal food from the fahey's farm stand in baldur's gate. they were caught in the act by jesper's father, colm, who took pity on them. instead of calling on the city guard, he offered them enough food for at least a week and sent them on their way as if they were a paying customer.

this is the encounter referenced on anais's about page and character sheet where it says their bond is "i owe a debt i can never repay to the person who took pity on me." they'd pretty much die to protect jesper specifically because of how much they feel they owe her dad.

[thoughtportal]

Alice and Anaïs are the founders of the creative studio Girlzpop and of the media company, MOYO. And their French apartment has classic Parisian elements — crisp white walls, crown molding, arched doorways, and gold-rimmed mirrors. Alice and Anaïs have personalized the space with playful lighting fixtures, a custom-upholstered green fringed velvet sofa, and a cerulean blue dining set. FOLLOW ANAIS AND ALICE: Instagram: @girlzpop_

[lemontartc]

My sister was asking about the doll I was customizing and then she was like "you know I have some Monster Highs you could use" and I went ?!? you do?? and she was like yeah, went upstairs, and grabbed these. (It was actually pretty funny because she said she had a robot and one with transparent limbs so I immediately went oh Robecca and Spectra but then she brought them down and I didn't even know who River was and had to look it up lol)

Apparently she found them at a thrift store a few years ago and thought she would do... something with them? Unclear, but she gave them to me to customize and I'm so excited. Their hands are a little discolored and their joints are super loose (definitely well played with lol holding them up for these photos was hard) but I think they're going to be great to work on!

Tbqh, I'm not a fan of the G1 bodies (especially the little sister body, the stomach looks distended to me and it kind of creeps me out) so I gotta figure out how to make clothes for them asap but I'm super excited to work on Ella specifically. I mean River Styxx is a really cool doll that will be fun once I figure out what to do with her, but I actually have an OC that Ella is going to be perfect for! I just have to figure out how I'm going to adjust her "skin" color to the right shade(s). I'm getting paint supplies tomorrow though and that will be a good start.

[sureinsunlight]

Sid Ask Prompts Pt. 4: Anais de Valsayre!

@entropyking big sword woman coming right up :3

👕Appearance

What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

Of all things, it's how she stands; espadas are so trained that the knowledgeable could pick Anais out from a lineup as one so trained. She thinks that's pretty fucking cool.

What would your character wear if they were told they had to gussy up?

It's not every day that she gets to actually break out her cocktail dresses, but she'd be happy to. Something purple, with bronze and blue-gem jewelry perhaps? No heels, she's tall as it is. Only wears heels when the M.O. is to intimidate.

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

Being unfairly ripped and having major swordfighter's cake.

What are your character's opinion on scars?

She's no stranger to them, especially in her line of work. She's more interested in the scars a civilian would have, honestly.

📦Objects

What type of object is likely to catch your character's attention?

Anais appreciates things that have history to them, particularly with regard to their location; she's moved around so much as a cosmopolitan that the idea of fixity is almost enchanting to her these days.

Does your character prefer to give or receive gifts?

Been a while since she's had occasion for gifts, honestly. In such a moment, though, I think she'd be happiest with a mutual exchange.

🍽️Food and Drink

How big is your character's appetite?

Having a job like 'mech mercenary' when a sword is your best weapon means taking good care of your body, and that means eating enough to sustain yourself best.

Does your character consider eating fun?

It's more of a chore for her, most of the time. She's got a flair for the fancy, but that comes so very occasionally.

What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

The region of Auxetoil that she grew up on was a bit like if Bas-Rhin was a whole country, so she considers a tarte flambée a point of personal fierté.

🌤️Weather and Nature

What would your character do if they were suddenly caught in the rain?

She'd find the nearest cover and wait it out, humming all the while. If Anais was in her mech, of course, perhaps she'd play at a dance with the droplets.

Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

The avalanches on Sparr managed to spook her all the time when she was in her tutorship; not much else compares after feeling those rumble through the ground.

Is your character good with plants?

Horticulture is one of the few ways Anais makes her stationings feel like home; she'll get a plant from the local area, keep it until she has to go, and then give it off to someone who will look after it further. Most don't expect their next fern to come from an enormous, drop-dead contract soldier, but hey.

How willing would your character be to nap outside?

Depending on the weather, it could be quite nice. She especially likes sunbathing on cool and windy days, when more temperate climes are concerned.

What animal would your character say best represents them?

A sidewinder! She likes snakes, and considering its style of movement not dissimilar from the odd, dancing steps she makes to spin space and distance while within her custom Atlas-Ifrit,  Bolèro.

🤝Community and Relationships

Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick?

It's not often she has reliable contact, so she takes it when she can! Sickness is no exception, even if she's being treated in some nice SSC clinic.

Is your character upfront about their feelings?

Anais has a fair understanding of politeness, and holds to it when she can be! Some get to hear her proper opinions more often than others, but when it comes to work she does not fold for deference.

Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help?

The Collective, an IBEJI-class NHP and her personal best friend(s), would be the first to know. This is both for practical and comfort-seeking purposes.

Who is your character most honest with?

The Collective, and in particular Keystone, never have heard a lie from her lips.

How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship?

 Anais isn't exactly stolid, but you'll probably make the first move in a conversation before her. She's just used to being approached by now.

Where is your character's comfort place?

I don't know if there's such a fixed place, anymore– Anais is a cosmopolitan, a nomad out-of-time by the dint of repetitive nearlight travel, and so rarely stares in the same spot for long. I suppose it's certain people she'd be around that do it, instead of places.

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

She holds herself as her teacher did, trying to emulate her as a young sprite of a thing, and I think when she meets the singular Renmazuo, a bit of extroversion or animal excitement might rub off on her.

Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured? Who would your character say knows them best?

It's Keystone that knows her best, and maybe their mayfly partition Trilliant– quite the observant one.

What is your character's favorite form of affection?

If she's affectionate towards you, she teases you. Smug is how she shows her love.

Does your character enjoy celebrating holidays?

Who can keep track!

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

A question phrased right.

💓Mind, Body and Soul

What is a habit your character has that others might find cute?

Anais is well fluent in Ubiq, one of the more standard utilitarian languages used by Union, and she has semantic translation equipment as most cosmos do, but she's gone out of her way to make sure that when she code-switches into her native tongue, it leaves it pristine.

Are there particular sounds your character is fond of?

As a matter of fact, she really likes the theremin when used in place of the voice in operatic and prefall classical pieces. It has a haunting beauty in her opinion!

Is your character more prone to fight or flight?

First she weighs her options in as quick of a moment as she can, then she acts. To err on one side or the other is folly in a chaotic world. However, the job often demands she fight, and so it goes.

What words could tear your character down?

"What good is a toy soldier with no home and a name no-one remembers?"

How well does your character act under pressure?

In dangerous and difficult situations alike, quick and to-the-point. An exacting nature serves best.

Is your character good at practicing self-care?

Very much so! She could use more cheat days honestly, staying near your peak for so long can get tiring.

What scents does your character find comforting?

Clean linens, gun oil, and good perfumes. Oh, she really likes candlesmoke.

Does your character have any allergies?

None such, beyond a mild intolerance for certain topical antiseptics.

Is your character a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

Anais can rouse herself pretty quickly sometimes, but also ends most nights with her bed or bunk looking like a warzone.

Does your character have a sleep routine?

at 21h25 standardized, no later, she's in bed with a drink, a face mask, and maybe a book if she's not on schedule. Yes the face masks are accounted for on the job they keep her morale up on long hauls.

Does your character have strong willpower?

Strong enough, but not to the point of bull-headedness. Anais prides herself on being able to take in new information.

How does your character relax?

If she's not going through her forms, she's probably engaging in some local sport, sleeping, or working on her plants.

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

I don't think she has any particular secrets that she requires, no.

How often does your character have nightmares?

Of the symptoms of post-traumatic stress that flare up in mercenary life, nightmares usually aren't one she gets.

Are there scents your character dislikes?

She has a really bad sneeze response to peppercorns. She doesn't hate them, they just make her sneeze a lot.

Is there a fear your character wants to learn to overcome?

Anais cherishes the fear she still has. It takes care of her.

🎲 Hobbies and Activities

What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

In either a ball-and-court game or in Sparri kapkat, she will just about die before letting someone else win.

Does your character have a secret hobby?

Not quite secret, no. Perhaps most would describe much of her life as secret simply due to how few know her.

What is a talent your character wishes they had?

She's no weaver, hasn't the patience for it, but she admires and holds some jealousy over the textile-makers of the galaxy.

Is there an activity your character used to enjoy that they now dislike?

Post-Ren, I think Anais takes fewer jobs, further apart from each other. She's seen a lot of battle in her time, and even the good fight wears its shine with the days.

What is a talent that your character is proud of?

In addition to swordfighting, she is a fairly good ballroom dancer.

What is a topic your character would be excited to talk about?

How to care for different varietals and mundalities of fern. She really likes ferns.

Has your character ever made something for themselves or someone else?

She has tried to cook in the past. It went well for about an hour and then she got impatient and ruined it.

What is your character’s opinion on cheating in games?

If you cheat at a game against her, Anais will hold a grudge for kilohours.

How good is your character at following through on projects?

Generally quite good, as is needed for a contracted individual such as herself.

What’s an activity that reminds your character of someone else?

She will someday think of Ren everytime she experiences the visceral pleasure of tearing into an orange in the shower. Shower orange people of the world you understand.

Does your character prefer music or silence?

A nice background music is always appreciated, even within her chassis.

What is a topic your character wouldn't want to talk about?

Work is work, and it already invades enough of her life. Anais will show you much swordfighting expertise, but in regards to an art, not her source of manna.

[xlntwtch2]

novicehydra

anais-ninja-bitch

#starbucks has been using the same cat mold for seasonal cake pops for years now#they’re running out of ideas for what to turn that stupid cat into and need a new mold#it drives the baristas crazy cuz customers can’t tell what this shit it half the time#the owl was also particularly agregious#source:I unfortunately work there

I can't unsee the cats, and bees don't have ears, unless they're supposed to be wings? Antennae? Dammit, those are cats.

[anaishammes]

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[mkinfinitycloset]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: aden + anais essentials cotton Muslin Swaddle World Travelers.