#d. speckter.

[mitch--douglas]

GRIEVING SEA || mitch & dot [ ruina rex p.1 ]

@dot-speckter​​

[[ Mitch hasn’t had a lot of time to process — properly process — what happened, and if he’s being honest with himself, he knows that’s not exactly an accident. He hasn’t given himself a lot of time to process.

He’s spent most of the day as he usually does in times of tension, crisis, heightened emotion: helping everyone else work through it. As soon as the message went out Mitch dismissed his current class and canceled the rest, setting up in his office for a veritable revolving door; a number were his students, but most were Calysets. If they hadn’t felt entirely comfortable taking their issues to Nouka before, the growing rumors that the NWRF killed Kaiser Bahr certainly aren’t going to help.

By the time dinner rolls around, Mitch is well and truly drained. He shows up to the dining hall long enough to get a plate and a glass of water but ends up taking them back to Calyset. As someone who treads the line well between introvert and extravert, he now needs the time to recharge.

Glancing down the dorm hallway, though, he notices a door ajar and naturally can’t help himself from one last check-in. He’s glad he does; Dot, apparently, has eschewed dinner as well. ]]

Hey, [[ Mitch says gently from the door he’s toed open but doesn’t cross the threshold yet, gesturing with the plate in his hand. ]] Are you hungry?

[alois-the-real-boy]

BURNING MIDNIGHT OIL || alois & dot

@dot-speckter​

[[ Alois isn’t sure when he’d fallen back into the habit of drinking with friends, but it’s a comforting routine to indulge in, even if the initial instance with Teilo had been more for the sake of liquid courage in the face of embarrassing admissions. Tonight he figures he’ll seek out a different companion, looking to share the bottle of… vodka? Moonshine? Xavier had been kind enough to sneak him under the table for the right price.

The hour is late but he’s not tired, or at least, no more tired than he ever is. Alois makes his way down to the Calyset common room as soon as he can hear it’s vacant, setting the bottle of clear liquid on the low table along with two modestly-sized glasses. Taking up a sprawl on the couch, he props a foot at the edge of the table and brings up his left wrist, PDD clacking against the fiberglass before he steadies it to send off his messages.

They all go to the same recipient: Dot. She seems like someone who could use a drink just in general, but especially if she’s going be annoyed that he woke her up with a handful of independent and insistent pings.

‘Dot.’ ‘Dot.’ ‘Dottie.’ ‘Polka dot.’ ‘Come downstairs.’ ]]

[the-colony-roleplay]

[Mssg Fwrd From PDD - D. Carrington]

100 points from Calyset, offender D. Speckter

- 1 strike, offender D. Speckter

[AUTOMATED ECHO REPLY] "Thank you for your submission, Elite Carrington. Your request has been processed.

In light of the application of a strike, please contact the Calyset Head of House or a Calyset Elite to discuss specific offense, if necessary."

[collectoroflovelythings]

jared for the ask game

J jealousy by fka twigs

A anything we want by Fiona apple

R raise hell by Brandi charli

E eet by Regina Speckter

D drunk walk home by mitski

Send me your name and i'll make a mini playlist with the letters in your name

[death-to-sanity]

"Old Heads, Young Bloods [Ft. Clas D. Poet, Ricky Flair, Docktor Speckter][DJ PELT REMIX]" by Cloud City Projects Remix Page

[mitch--douglas]

EXHAUSTIVE APPREHENSION || mitch & dot

@dot-speckter​

[[ Mitch is always tired after the games, and so seem to be most of those trudging back up the hill towards the safety of the colony’s walls. The Delmas seem to be the sole exception, still loudly celebrating their win en route; the Torrens are unnaturally subdued, a good half looking like they’re still in the planning stages of one or more murders.

For Mitch, the tiredness is bone-deep, and in a way, he’s grateful. It’s been a culmination of so many nights of fitful sleep, or none at all -- it’s reassuring he’ll have no choice but to sleep like the dead tonight. The one thing keeping his feet trudging up the hill isn’t that, though. He’s also eager to get back to Calyset and check in with everyone, whether he saw them during the games are not. Their house can be, quite frankly, a delicate bunch, and Mitch would prefer to assuage some of his concerns before he lets himself succumb to the tiredness blurring him around the edges.

He straightens up and takes a look around as they’re walking, and the small burst of relief is inevitable as he settles his eyes on Dot. He hadn’t caught sight of her once since everything started, but she’d crossed his mind multiple times; he knew her time spent in the Wastes wasn’t easy, and often worries about the effects the games have on her. Mitch eases sideways through the mass of people to her side, bringing his hand to rest reassuringly on her shoulder and only narrowly resisting the urge to pull her into a hug. ]] Dot -- how are you doing? Everything okay?

[mitch--douglas]

MEA CULPA || mitch & dot

@dot-speckter​

[[ Despite the fact that his largely unintentional encounter with Dr. Carrington had gone far better than one might’ve ever expected, it still weighs on Mitch’s conscience for one simple reason; he’d promised Dot he wouldn’t get himself involved, but when the opportunity had arisen, he hadn’t been able to help it. There are likely those who would consider it overkill, his amount of concern when he’s in the clear position of authority here, but that’s not how Mitch operates. His focus is only ever on a symbiotic, give-and-take relationship between mentor and mentee, and Dot stands out in particular as someone whose trust he worked exceptionally hard to earn.

This is why he feels particularly bad about what he’s done when he promised he wouldn’t, and why it takes them almost the entirely of their regular training to work up the courage and broach the subject. It’s only when the lesson plan is wrapping up that Mitch takes a glance at his watch and lets out a quiet sigh. There’s no putting it off any longer. ]] We’re about out of time, but before I let you go – would you mind another word about your encounter with Dr. Carrington the other week?

[charlie-freakin-essex]

RESCUE MISSION || charlie & dot

@dot-speckter

[[ Why anyone would want to venture out into the utter squall that continues to hover over the colony’s walls is beyond Charlie -- except, of course, himself, because treading out into the thick of it is far more interesting than suffering through another infinite loop of patrol inside. He continues to volunteer for ground detail as often as the head of security deems it necessary or plausible, and he continues to be the only one.

It’s been raining long enough that slogging through wet snow and slush has morphed into slogging through thick mud, and Charlie’s spending so much of his energy to make sure his boots stay on his feet that he almost misses her. He can’t make out much more than a petite silhouette through the sheets of freezing rain, tucked into an alcove on the far side of the building. He frowns into the wind and trudges his way over until he’s close enough to be heard over the weather. ]] Hey! No one should be out in this -- are you okay?

[alois-the-real-boy]

MUCH ADO ABOUT || alois & dot [ fever state: pt.1 ]

@dot-speckter

[[ Flour. Fucking flour, were they kidding with this bullshit? Alois had wanted to fling his PDD across the common room when the announcement went out and had only narrowly refrained. He probably could’ve taken it on himself to be relieved -- relieved that they’d found the source, solved the mystery, ascertained it to be non-lethal -- but in reality? It felt very… anticlimactic. Invalidating, almost, that they’d all been so thoroughly decimated by something so mundane as a food-borne parasite.

Alois’s mood might be a sour one but he’s too tired and still too sick to raise much of a fuss beyond ghosting around Calyset like a surly stormcloud. As he stalks unsteadily through the common room for the nth time in the past hour, he catches and meets a pair of familiar eyes, his demeanor ruffling with all of the impotent indignation of a wounded animal. Alois aims it, at least, in the direction of the appropriate third party instead of lashing out directly at Dot. ]] Can you believe that announcement? [[ His tone is still tired, to be sure, but plenty brusque enough to get his meaning across. ]] Flour.

[mitch--douglas]

MERRY MITCHMAS || dougie’s holiday gifts

@alexander-donovan

Alex’s gift is, of course, very practical: a pair of black tactical gloves, with grippy palms.

I’ve already given you the timeless gift of training me in the near future -- no returns, refunds, or exchanges, by the way -- but I thought you might find use for these as well. -- Mitch

@littlealliep

Allie receives a mug with a cartoon unicorn emblazoned on the side, along with the words “I’m fucking magical.”

Pardon the unicorn’s french, but I saw this and immediately thought of you. Can’t imagine why. Merry Christmas, Allie-gator. -- Dougie

@annie-perrault

Annie will find an ornate carved wooden box sitting on her pillow, roughly 5 x 5 x 3 in. in dimension. There are a handful of Echo chip copies inside, with various musician and album names penned on meticulously. One chip is a mix Mitch made for her himself, unmarked but with an assortment of his favorite songs.

A few modest additions and a container for your collection. Try not to make fun of me too terribly for my musical tastes. Much love -- Mitch

@cambieandrews

A carefully rolled print of Jules Chéret’s Loïe Fuller at the Folies-Bergère can be found propped in Cambie’s chair in her office, tied with a length of silver ribbon.

I know I could’ve given this to you at the Delma party, but I got impatient. There isn’t enough space on this small card for me to be able to express just how lucky I feel to have you in my life and to call you a friend. I’ll have to stick to briefer sentiment, but I think it says it all: I’d be lost without you. Love -- Mitch

@dot-speckter

Dot receives a skein of soft wool, dyed a striking royal blue.

Thought this would be a good color on you -- I look forward to seeing what you do with it. It’s been a good year, Dottie, and I’m proud of you. Much love -- your soppy trainer.

@rhyslikespopcorn

Rhys will find a boxed wooden train set on his desk in the corner of the daycare room, and while some pieces seem to be missing, what’s there is in remarkably good shape.

I’m realizing this gift is maybe more for your kids -- I owe you! -- but hopefully you get some enjoyment out of it, too. -- Mitch

@rozayakovlev

He’s managed to procure Roza a Lisa Frank notebook with eye-bleedingly rendered dolphins.

It’s a little beat up, but I didn’t think that’d stop you from getting some use out of it. Yours in comically overtheatrical dueling -- Mitch

Calysets

Every dorm room in Calyset will get a modest gift basket’s worth of assorted candy and silly party favors. None of them have a note as to who it’s from, but seeing as it’s been a habit of Mitch’s over the past few years, it’s likely not difficult to guess.

[mitch--douglas]

QUALITY ADVICE || mitch & dot

@dot-speckter​

Good! Good, Dot, [[ Mitch encourages from his spot perched on the desk at one edge of the room, glancing down only to make a couple of quick notes before he looks up again, watching the ease with which she’s executing his drill. ]] If you’re looking for a challenge — and I really think you should be — try slowing it down.

[the-colony-roleplay]

DERORA “DOT” SPECKTER | TWENTY ONE;  SURVIVOR

House: Calyset Security Class: 2 Status: Infected - Telekinesis

HISTORY

{tw: selfharm}

Dot liked to think she had a reasonable childhood, though looking back, it wasn’t as great as she had thought it was. Men were consistently flooding in and out of her mother’s bedroom while her father was too busy either drinking or working to notice. Some nights she’d sit on the stairs and wait until they left, others she’d spent hiding under her blankets in an attempt to drown out the noises from below her room. Deep down the young girl was sure her parents loved her, though she wasn’t sure why they never paid any attention to any of her successes, Dot remained as positive as possible. 

As a kid, she was known to have extremely good grades, with a smile that could melt the coldest teacher’s heart into putty. School was Dot’s favourite place, somewhere that her home life couldn’t touch, it was sacred to her. As were her friends. They would often invite her over to their houses, sometimes curious as to why Dot wouldn’t do the same. She’d skirt around the topic, saying her parents were remodelling the house or that they had gone overseas. It killed her to lie.

D-Day hit when she was almost fourteen. That’s when her real set of struggles began. Dot doesn’t remember much from the day itself, other than walking home from school, and how fast her heart beat while watching the asteroids fly across the sky. Being pulled to shelter by someone she can’t remember, Dot couldn’t think, couldn’t process what was going on. When allowed to leave, she ran home, only to find the suburb of large buildings that had once been so tall they could’ve touched the sky destroyed. The girl suspected her friends had met the same fate, and decided not to bother trying to search for them. Dot became resentful, bitter, numb over the next few months, losing all hope in humanity. This trauma affected her right to the core of who she had been, snuffing out her light.

She was taken in with a group of survivors, and although the 'leader’ attempted to be gentle towards her, the others weren’t nearly as welcoming. Dot was baggage, a little girl who couldn’t pull her own weight. It was over a two year span where strange things began to occur, things she told nobody, things that she knew would reflect badly upon herself. Sometimes the migraines would get so bad, she’d resort to other bodily harm in an attempt to null the pain in her mind. It never seemed to work, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. 

Her mood was so drastic, especially while going through bodily changes, that her power would lash out with a violent temper. Tables would fly across the room, chairs would slam against walls, Dot was unable to control it. The feeling of having little control simply turned into more drastic use, and in the end the clan couldn’t handle it anymore. They left her to fend for herself. 

Being alone gave Dot time to reflect, time to try and detach herself from things that would trigger the ability. She began meditating, and lived for the next few months alone, trying to scavenge for whatever was left in this world while also attempting to find others.

DOT TODAY

Sixteen-year-old Dot ended up finding and staying with another small clan for a year, the scars of her past imprinted against her skin, and people were smart enough to not ask anything about it. It was when a Crusade from Colony 22 came through, the small group were escorted to new lives.

Having been in the colony for just over three years now, it’s become something akin to a home. She doesn’t mind having to do the chores, if anything the rhythm and consistency of them does her wonders. It helps to keep her mood in check, something she strives to do.

Unlike others, Dot would much rather keep to herself. She is very anti-social and assures conversation is kept to the minimum, always thinking very carefully about what to say, and what to keep to herself. She’s able to move with ease through rooms, as no one tends to stop her to talk, and that’s just how she likes it. However, in an attempt to try and seek help and to finally put the past where it belongs, Dot has been regularly attending counselling sessions.

Her emotional detachment from most people helps when it comes to her telekinesis. She finds training incredibly difficult, as it’s difficult for her to keep a controlled grasp on her power, as in the past Dot’s only used it when she’s lashed out at others and is terrified to use it again.

When it comes to the Games, although she wouldn’t admit it, Dot enjoys being a part of them. She loves the feeling of winning, it reminds her of when she was back in school. Pretending to be unimpressed on the outside, internally she is eager to impress her house mates. Dot believes this might be because of a desire for friendship, something she thinks will only cause pain.

TAKEN; ORIGINAL CHARACTER