#everyone: priz no one cares.

[thatmelody-blog1]

Y’know that one part in his origin story? Yeah me too. I just want it on my blog so here it is.

[ranboo5]

Ok I am not judging at all but I feel like the my chemical romance feels, not out of place, but I did not expect to see it in a dsmp web weave ASTHFKL . So if you want an ask about your process and all of that, why boy division in particular for this web weave?

It's actually stolen from A Mixtape For Excellent Adventures, Priz fireworksduo's peerpressure playlist ajhsaknhdkln

That quote in specific has actually been on this webweave since its VERY early days – it was one of the initial collection of deathmotifs because I go insane about Ranboo's general death miasma and the concept of the suit-as-deathmotif as the corpse at a funeral irt "I'm not dead, I only dress that way!"

It's also. I mean it's specifically a peerpressure song I don't like to really use the rest of the song as necessary implied context but specifically the lyrics I include very much. Give Doomsday imo specifically the "same as yesterday" exchange

I think a point of c!peerpressure is this like... it's the concept of pretention if that makes any sense? Like, at the end of the day the reason that each of them is able to start to extend his trust to the other is that there is no necessary maintenance of Pretense between them and the places that they leave undiscussed (many) and the bits they do (also many) are mutually understood as simply not each other's business and as bits respectively and that's a Component of how they signal trustworthiness and trust to each other – each of them is very careful and deliberate to try and back up all his legitimate promises with the action they would imply and it's what allows Techno to relax and Ranboo to tentatively get off the eggshells he's on around everyone by default

So there's trust and that connects directly to the preceding doubts thereof and the "I would have to trust someone" -- the specific recipe for that trust is Crystallized in the understanding implied in "I'm not laughing, you're not joking" and then "I'm not dead, I only dress that way" ties it back directly to death and avoidance thereof. It's almost confessional in itself too like. Trust is being associated with being not dead even in the appearance of it and in the painting Body which . Is a man in formalwear lying on a bed, sprawled, possibly dead -- and is followed immediately by the Respawn point set from when Ranboo sets his spawn at the commune

So that's the work it does here; trust, pretense, death and survival, and the cruelty of how it isn't, in the end, enough to save him

[hmnlv]

**OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

tagged by : @doesharm smooches priz  tagging : snatch it from me like it’s my last dollar

*APHRODITE.      laughter - loving.     sweet  smiles.    dressed  in  silk  and  satin.    flower  in  their  hair.     sees  the  world  as  a  runway.    unapologetically  sexual.    the  sea  washing  their  ankles.    in  love  with  love. stirrer  of  passion.   cunning  concealed  by  painted  lips.    secret  daggers.    doves.     revolution  in  their  kiss.     delighting  in  the  waves.     flirtatious  winks.    strolling  along  the  beach.      staring  wistfully  from  a  balcony.   this  is  how  to  be  a  heartbreaker.     wants  to  be  adored.     gets  turned  on  by  danger.

*APOLLO.       glitz  and  glamour.     art  galleries.      turning  the  volume  up.      being  made  of  gold.     neatly-organized  music  sheets.     notebooks  filled  with  poetry.   bathing  in  the  sunlight.    the  powerful  urge  to  create.     collecting  vinyl  records.    beautiful  cover  of  wonderwall.     playing  multiple  instruments.     tasting  like  sunshine.     healing  touch.  speaking  in  prophecies.     smile  mingled  with  wrath.    shunning  lies.    sporting  shades.      hanging  out  at  music  festivals  with  their  friends.      sleeps  naked.   arrow  to  the  heart.   paint  brushes.     probably  has  a  tinder  account.

*ARES.       armed  for  battle.      wants  to  raise  a  dog  with  their  significant  other.  soft  spot  for  children.     gives  piggyback  rides.   scarred  body.     blood  on  their   hands  and  face.    willing  to  fight  the  world  for  the  ones  they  love.     fights  against  injustice.   warm  hugs.      well-worn  combat  boots.     boxing gloves.    bandages  wrapped  around  bruised  knuckles.   fist  raised  in  protest.      ignites  revolutions.     fear  is  a  prison.       more  sensitive  than  what  their  tough  shell  would  have  you  think.     exhausted.   damaged  goods.    force  to  be  reckoned  with.   red  roses.    curses  under  their  breath.

*ARTEMIS.       keen  sense  of  a  hunter.       freckles  like  constellations  on  their  skin.    piercing  eyes.    disheveled  braid.     moonlight  peeking  through  the  shadows.   the  calm  of  the  forest  at  night.      lying  on  the  grass  and  staring  at  the  stars.   mother  doe  and  her  fawn.      protecting  their  kin.     the  moon  shimmering  on  a  still  lake.      quiver  full  of  arrows  resting  against  the  bark  of  a  tree.     running  with  wolves.  bonding  while  circled  around  a  campfire.     not  being  much  of  a  people  person.      arrow  hitting  a  target.     popping  egos.     patience  on  3%.   touches  heaven  and  returns  howling.

*ATHENA.     discerning  gaze.     unreadable  face.     quiet  museums.     owl  perched  on  their  finger.     armor  that  intimidates.     eye  for  architecture.     plays  the  sims  for  the  sole  purpose  of  building   houses.     studied  the  blade  while  everyone  else  was  busy  getting  laid.     big  fan  of  logic.     loves  brain  teasers, ancient  buildings.     sweaters  in  neutrals  and  cool  colors.   hair  done  up.   can  kill  you  with  their  brain.     heads  to  the  library  often  to  research.    sharpened  pencils.   abs  that  can  cut  steel.    stoic  statues.     pottery classes.

*DEMETER.      soil-covered  hands.    smile  that  can  bloom  flowers.     skin  loved  by  the  sun.    being  the  mom - friend.  can  lift  you  and  your  friends.  flowers  kept  in  the  pockets  of  overalls.     takes  pride  in  their  beautiful  garden.     speaks  to  their  plants.       leaves  rustling  in  the  wind.     stalks  of  wheat.     picking  fruit.     greenhouses.   heart  as  strong  as  a  mountain.  values  simplicity.   daisies  dotted  across  a  collarbone.   curls  crowned  with  flowers.     folded  pile  of  sweaters  in  warm  hues.     pulling  out  fresh - baked  bread  out  of  the  oven  and  the  smell  wafting  through  the  air.

*DIONYSUS.     drunk  shitposter.    on  their  sixth  glass  of  wine  before  you’ve  even  finished  your  second.   seductive  smirks.     untamed curls.     rich  fabrics  on  dark  skin.      sleek - furred  panthers.     theater  masks.    stage  productions.   receiving  a  standing  ovation.     rose  caught  between  their  teeth.      being  the  baby  of  the  bunch.     wild  parties  that  last  from  sundown  to  sunup.     creeping  vines.     inspiring  loyalty.   grand  opera  houses.     masquerade  balls.     rolls  of  film.     shattered  chandeliers  with  broken glass  scattered  across  the  wine-spilled  floor.    pouring  champagne  into  flutes.    lives  for  the   applause.

*HEPHAESTUS.    the  calloused  hands  of  someone  who  knows  labor.      sweaty  brow.     flame  burning  in  their  eyes.     inventive  mind.   broad  shoulders.     steampunk  goggles.    nuts  and  bolts  stored  away  in  little  boxes.     ashes.    striking  a  match.     blueprints for  future  projects.     fixing  up  a  busted  up  car  and  giving  it  cool  upgrades.        wrestles  with  bitterness.  work  boots  have  seen  better  years.     wrinkled  plaid              shirts.    iron  melted  in  blazing  fire.    huge  jackets.   crafting  masterpieces.     greased - stained  overalls.     fascination  with  robotics.   pain  is  fuel.    stack  of  weaponry.              even   their  muscles  have  muscles.

*HERA.       resting  bitch  face.     dressed  to  the  nines.   cows  grazing  on  a  pasture.    cool  rain.  loving  and  hating  fiercely.     hand  clutching  a  string  of  pearls.     large  chandelier  with  glittering  crystals.    plays  the  sims  for  the  sole  purpose  of  killing  off  their  sims.     romance  to  realism.    pictures  of  the  sky  while  flying  on  a  plane.     files  that  under  fuck  it.    downs  glasses  of  wine  as  they  relax  with  a  scented  bubble  bath  and  netflix.   like  their  selfie  or  you’re  grounded.     knows  57  convenient  ways  to  murder  a  man.     dark  eyes  that  penetrate  your  soul.   marble  and  gold.

*HERMES.     devil-may-care  smile.   always  up-to-date  on  the  latest  technology.   will  steal  your  french  fries.     does  it  for  the vine.     shitposter.     puts  googly  eyes  on  everything.     meme  hoarder.     long  drives  on  the  highway.   ma  and  pop  diners.   spontaneous  road  trips.   folded  maps.   fingers  dancing  across  the  keyboard  of  a  laptop.      shooting  hoops  on  the  basketball  court.    chatting  up  strangers  as  you  all  journey  to  your  own  destinations.  goes  jogging  in  the  morning.     mixes  redbull  with  coffee.    menace  on  april fool’s.    hoodies  and  sneakers.  

*POSEIDON.      storm  with  skin.     colorful  coral  reefs.    waves  crashing  against  the  shore.     stroking  the  soft  fur  of  a  cat.    their  heart  pounding  as  their  horse’s  gentle  trot  speeds  into  a  gallop.    tousled  locks.    clothes  smeared  with  paint.     owns  several  sketchbooks  yet  always  yearns  to  own  more.     leather  jackets.    fondness  for  diy  projects.   handwriting  that  flows  across  the  page.   nimble  fingers  playing  the  strings  of  a  violin.     velvety  singing  voice  that  haunts  your  dreams.   mood  as  ever-changing  as  the  sea.    the  roar  of  a  motorcycle.    compass  with  a  spinning arrow.

*ZEUS.     thunder  in  their  heart.     running  on  coffee.     flash  of  lightning.     natural charisma.  eloquence.   badass  in  a  nice  suit.   aficionado  of  history.    force of nature.   lenny  face.     nightmare-filled  nights.   proud  arm  around  their  lover’s  waist.   high - rise  buildings.   planes  soaring  through  a  cloudless  sky.      technician  on  the  piano.   maintains  order.    strong  handshake.    juggling  multiple  events  on  their  busy  schedule with  ease.  expensive watch.

[sparkledeerfr]

Dear Director pt 2

[Pt One here]

Lady was angry, and yes some of that anger was directed at herself, but a good chunk of it was at how stuck she felt.

She knew the Director was lying- whether it was to protect herself or another didn’t matter at the moment- the point was others could be in danger and Lady did not know how to find the truth. She could roll up to Lightning territory herself, but likely the Director would see her coming a mile off. Lady had destroyed her last corporation and laboratory in a fit of altruism, after all. It wouldn’t happen a second time. That meant Lady would need help, but from where?

(read more link)

Of course there were plenty of people she could ask and no doubt they would help, but that would mean revealing her past, what she had done. She did not mind that so much if it got the job done, but the problem was being certain that the job would be done correctly. Viltri could certainly lawyer the place to oblivion, but Lightning types were nothing if not masters of corporations and shell games. The first official paperwork sent their way and the shredders would get to running and the answer would be buried under another five aliases. This wasn’t a job for Daud, or Adeline (if they could even find the time)...but who else was there?

Lady ran names through her head as she paced, trying to think of someone. If only Max hadn’t left! That was exactly the type of person she needed- a spy. But of course they no longer had a spy unless you counted Vice and Hox policing the underground, and they would be about as useful as taking a hammer to the situation, which honestly she almost felt like doing.

Finally her mental deck went to the cards of the Casino Quarter- entirely useless of course aside from a gift here or there. There was no way she could call on any of them for help unless it was something that directly affected them or the safety of the cities. The lesser members...Bells, Lysander, Vaughn...nope. Though Vaughn could probably track their expenses like a champ and follow the financial trail if she got him the information. Snow? No way. Jesse?

Jesse. Now that was a thought.

----

Jesse’s natural curiosity got the better of her when the invitation to meet Lady for a ‘special side job’ was put forth. The ridgeback was nothing if not ruggedly dependable and lawful, so the thought that Lady could use her for something was deliciously tempting.

They met at Prizma’s, which was of course the place anyone of importance did their underhanded work and/or drinking and/or socializing. It was a sort of holy ground for all factions- everyone knew you didn’t start crap there, not unless you wanted to get a whole heap of it back on you. Jesse spun a coin on the table as the ridgeback sat down at her booth and Prizma herself came over to take their order. The way Priz eyed them told Jesse that even she found this unusual, though not quite enough so for the midnight ridgeback to care. Priz made a lot of money off of not caring and keeping her mouth shut, after all.

But Lady surprised Jesse again by ordering three martinis, the first of which she downed like a shot. It was empty before it hit the table.

“That bad?” Jesse asked, spinning a coin and taking a sip of water with lime.

“Want one?” Lady asked.

“I like to keep my head clear when considering a job,” Jesse replied. “Now what matter of job can’t you complete on your own? I shudder to think.”

“I’d like to give you a bit of background so that you understand why this needs to be done, but it's something quite personal and something that I’ve never told another dragon, not even those in my old clan. If I tell you this, it can never leave this table. Can you agree to this?”

“Personal is one thing,” Jesse said, eyeing the ridgeback before looking down to spin her coin again. “But never ever I can’t promise, I’m afraid. Things have a way of coming back that might pose a danger to someone else, but I can promise that I’m good at keeping my mouth shut unless that danger shows up.”

“A reasonable distinction,” Lady said, sitting back to think as she sipped on her second martini. “Basically I was involved with some genetic manipulation and child rearing programs designed to create a sound individual. For my end I merely helped design the genetic code and lent my expertise in robotics. I had no idea the program was actually loaned eggs from families and experimented on them.”

“Genetically sound individuals?”

“I thought it a fanciful pursuit- could we design a dragon that could, for example, withstand Plague territory without being Plague born? Could a dragon that could do that also see in Shadow territory, or withstand the magical arcs of Arcane? To me it really seemed like research into the limits of dragon kind, until I found out that some were serious about it.”

“And they experimented on eggs? Children.”

“Oh yes. Once I found this out I was of course furious,” Lady said, her eyes somewhat glazed as she sipped more of her drink. “I raised a stink and got the program entirely shut down, but it was too late. Some children were already changed by what we- what I- had done. They were still being taught and overseen by the program.”

“And they...lived?”

“Some,” Lady said, looking even further away as though thinking. “You know West?”

“Yes of course,” Jesse said, at first wondering where this was going and then it dawned on her. “Oh. Oh dear does he know?”

“I think he just believes that he was in a very high end school,” Lady replied. “I don’t think he even knows what he can do. And of course the real problem is Eights.”

“How is this more of a problem?”

“Eights is not identified in any paperwork. I know there was another dragon going further with the research without supervision. I’d heard her refer to ‘mistakes’, and when the program was shut down I made sure she could never work legitimately again, but still. I don’t know what happened to her ‘mistakes’. I had thought she was just referring to defunct lines of genetic code, but now I can’t be sure. West and Eights have too many similarities. I have to be positive that she’s not harming others, that this isn’t still going on.”

“And you would like me to check this out?”

“Yes,” Lady said, looking down to the smaller skydancer. “They’ll see me coming a mile off, as I was the one to destroy the program last time. I need you to find out what’s going on, please.”

Jesse sat back and considered, though her mind privately was already made up. “I’ll need all the information you have, of course.”

“I can’t pay as much as Swank.”

“My dear if what you say is true, I will do this job for free. And if I find anything like you describe I will burn everything to the ground.”

“This is precisely that outcome I would like.”

----

The Lightning corp knew how to hide things, but they were not prepared for Jesse. Of course few are.

She was prepared to wait, prepared to look in the small corners, to smile at the terrible in order to get the job done. After all she had done it before.

Swank sent her messages wondering where she was, but Jesse was determined and only sent a message that she would be back later. Lady was not one to lie, and Jesse despite herself would do whatever she could to save an innocent that needed it. She would find Lady’s mysterious doctor and determine what had happened at all costs. And if Lady had lied, well...

At all costs of course turned out to be compliments and and a bit of snooping. Jesse went to Iman first and determined that the Director was nervous but prepared to cover for the mysterious other doctor that Jesse only knew as Maria. It was not the kind of nervousness Jesse knew as covering for a friend- the kind of anger underlying ‘please don’t test this’. This was covering one’s own butt because once long ago you did so for another that did not deserve it. She found the trail easily enough. Posing as a skittish but willing intern seemed almost like cheating once she had uncovered how to unseal documents thanks to Lady.

The deepest of Maria’s trail ended at an abandoned underground facility that had been sealed tight, littered with traps and plastered with warnings- but all that to Jesse just meant she was in the right place. The first level was rather boring to her, no information and nothing but outdated equipment left to rot and gather dust. A few yellowed notes and printouts of no interest.

But the basement...the basement was filled with giant vials, each large enough for a skydancer to grow in. She found preserved bodies of everything from hatchlings to grown adults, each with a decayed corresponding note telling why they had failed and why they were preserved here. Each had a number and no name.

But one she had found was empty- number 88. Vaulted because they were determined to be too weak and small to survive. It was broken open. Someone long before her had seen that 88 was alive and saved them. A mystery to be sure, but not one that she was concerned with right now.

Jesse’s hand clenched involuntarily as she read the notes on the other preserved dragons. How many others had been alive that Maria had decided to preserve? How many others had she decided to end because they did not meet her expectations? How many had lived and what did she do with them?

Jesse checked each of the giant vials, smashed them open and buried the bodies in rubble because they at least deserved this, what she could give them. Someone would care that they had died. Some bare part of her hoped that one would be like 88, but none were. Each were pale and lifeless despite their dark coloration. She set fire to what was left.

Jesse clenched her jaw and determined the she had a new purpose. This would happen to no one else. They would know what a dragon declared to be inferior at a young age could do. 

---

Maria was found dead three days later, and the inn keepers were she had stayed were disturbed. She had always seemed so kind, but the way she had died….they alerted the authorities and slept with a light on at night.

---

Director Iman was on edge. She was first alerted when Lady had written her, knowing that the ridgeback was as tenacious as the Stormcatcher himself, and was prepared to out Doctor Maria should it be necessary to save her own career. Iman had set up the necessary paperwork trail and had run through a few lies in her head to smooth things over should things come to that.

Director Iman was prepared for Lady- a lawful member of society who chose mercy above all else.

She was not prepared for Jesse, the intern who smiled nervously and wore large nerdy glasses and dutifully did all of her paperwork. When she heard about Maria, Iman only grew more anxious but she was glad for her reliable and supportive colleagues, including this intern who smiled and asked if she’d like these copies stapled. Security around here was tight, and honestly Maria being gone was perhaps a blessing in disguise.

Director Iman died on her office chair after Jesse had determined nothing else of her old corporation was left aside from Lady and the few project dragons.

After all Jesse had thoroughly checked.

---

“The job’s completed,” Jesse said, passing the paper that was on 88’s vial to Lady. “They were the only one left alive I’m afraid, but I don’t know who saved them. I may be looking at that on my own time.”

“Perhaps another doctor grew a conscience,” Lady said, eyeing the note carefully (Jesse turned her head at this, knowing there was no other living doctors, because she would have found them and asked them). “This sounds so….detached. I’m glad they at least survived. Thank you, Jesse.”

Lady was disturbed for a moment at the way Jesse was looking her over. “You will let me know if anything like this happens again?” Jesse asked, her voice level as she sat with her chin resting on her hands.

“Yes of course. Thank you again, knowing what they are really helps….but what happened to Doctor Maria?”

“It was a burn to the ground kind of scenario I’m afraid,” Jesse said, her red eyes burning into Lady’s bright blue ones. “And you I like, but if this thing of you deciding to help others changes and turns into what I saw, you know what happens my darling.”

“I would be glad for the correction.”

[seancolwell6-blog]

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