#exposition dump

[writingwithfolklore]

The Exposition Dump is a Myth (sort of)

There's a reason you're often told to avoid the exposition dump (kills the pacing of the scene, can be boring to read), but I might argue you never actually need it.

That’s because good exposition does two things:

1. It comes in the moment it is necessary

Backstory is told the very moment it is necessary information to tell, rather than to set up when it will be important. That means we don’t know what the neighbour does for work until we see her going to work. We don’t need to know about the town next over until we’re walking into it. We shouldn’t know about the bad things the mother has done until she’s right in front of us.

This is because information that doesn’t have direct relevance to readers is easier to forget and not that interesting. Every piece of exposition you share has to have direct, immediate relevance to the situation.

But better yet…

2. It’s shown through action and conflict

Good exposition isn’t told to the reader in a big chunk but rather explored through action or conflict. It can be as simple as this change:

“Mandy worked most of the day as a nurse at the local hospital.”

To

“Mandy rushed past him, dressed in her typical blue scrubs. She offered him weak smile, deep bags hanging under her eyes, before darting out the door and slamming it closed behind her.”

From this change we demonstrate the same info but in a more interesting way that ultimately reveals more about Mandy’s character. Plus, it trusts the reader to put together that Mandy is very busy at her job at a hospital rather than telling them directly.

Instead of telling the reader that the city is dangerous at night, catch them three blocks from their car as the sun quickly sets. Through action or conflict, we not only learn the information you want us to know, but we can explore who the character is based off how they act and react across different situations.

So, no, you don’t really need an exposition dump. If there is no point in your story where information comes up naturally in a moment it’s relevant and can be told through action or conflict—it’s probably unnecessary and could be cut out.

That being said, many works (even professionally published) use exposition dumps, and sometimes very well! So as always, it's up to the writer.

What are your thoughts on exposition?

[shadowphoenixrider]

Full House

(The morning after Shadow and Gambit's reunion, it's time for Shadow to face the music, and the other X-Men.)

News spread quickly through the X-Mansion that I'd returned, courtesy of Logan and Jean, and it hadn't taken long at all for Scott to appear to Remy's door, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he glimpsed me cloaked in one of Gambit's shirts.

Both Remy and I looked like kids caught with our hand in the cookie jar, but Scott just offered to unlock my dorm door so I could get a proper change of clothes. He also gently asked if it would be okay if I came and chatted with him and the rest of the team during breakfast.

Which was how I found myself in the kitchen, surrounded by the X-Men, and Gambit sitting beside me with a comforting hand on my waist.

"Took you two bozos long enough." Jubilee commented, pinching her fingers together. "I was this close to staging an intervention!"

"Doubt it woulda worked, kiddo." Logan grunted from his place at the counter. "Both of them were too stubborn to see it."

"You're one to talk." Gambit ground out behind his teeth, netting him quite the death glare from the older man.

"Now now," Hank lifted his large, placating hands, "whilst an intervention may certainly have spared some of the heartbreak, love is an emotion with considerable volatile unpredictability. As much as we wish it otherwise, we often need to let it take its course, as fast or slow as it may be."

"Might I remind you that we're not here to discuss Shadow and Gambit's relationship?" Storm cut in, with a tone that was both breezy and yet commanding, her ice blue eyes sweeping over the room like a monarch surveying her kingdom.

"Storm's right folks, settle down." Scott said, coming to stand in front of me, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "It is good to see you again, Shadow." He began, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You were only gone a couple of weeks, but we all keenly felt your absence." His head and what I assumed was his gaze tilted towards the tall man next to me. "Some more than others."

"But do not think it was your healing gifts we missed, Shadow." Storm spoke, a gentleness to her voice even as it brimmed with conviction. It reflected in her ice blue eyes. "Whilst there was a definite absence felt, it was your company that was yearned for above all."

"Yeah." Jubilee folded her arms, leaning against the table. "After you left, your friends stopping coming too. It got real quiet here."

I blinked, surprised.

"Wait, really?"

Gambit nodded silently.

"Makes sense though." Rogue spoke. "Why stick around when the reason they had to hang around weren't here any more?"

"But I thought..." I frowned. "What about Lemming? Wasn't he working as admin here?"

"Stuck around the longest, but he were as loyal as the rest of your crew." Logan said, working a small thin stick around in his mouth. "Comes back from time to time to do his hours, but his heart is with you and your gang." He stared at me, a slight smile on his gruff features. "Gotta say, quite the loyalty you inspire, bub."

"Mmm." Cyclops hummed, nodding. "When you left, it was as if we'd lost Morph again." He paused for a moment. "The only good thing was that you were still alive."

He looked down, staring into his coffee. Jean reached out to touch his arm.

"I..." My turn to stare at the table. "I'm sorry."

"Dere no need to apologise, chère." Gambit said, his hand rubbing against my back. "Ya did what ya had to."

"I would like to address it, though." Scott said, and I looked up, meeting his ruby gaze. "Your feelings, in the wake of what happened to the Professor."

"You sure 'bout diggin' up old bones, Slim?" Logan growled lowly.

"Yeah, don' know if dis be a good idea..." Gambit agreed, shifting on his seat.

"It's alright." I butted in, looking between the two men, placing my hand on Gambit's. "The bones aren't that old, and the only way to treat an abscess is to open it up to drain the pus."

"And my concern is that if we don't treat this wound now, it's going to turn septic." Scott added, and I smiled as I met his gaze. He'd been picking up more from Hank and I than I'd realized. Scott gestured with his mug towards me. "So...?"

I sighed. Well, here we go.

"Sure it's no big surprise that I'm not on the same level as the rest of you." I began, letting my gaze drift over the other assembled mutants. "I'm weaker, less athletic, can only just about swing a sword around, and my powers have barely any offensive capability. There's no way I'd ever be able to measure up to any of you in that regard. The only thing I have of worth to bring to the team is my ability to heal."

"That's not true!" Jubilee blurted out. "You-!"

Jean placed a hand on the teen's shoulder, smiling softly.

"I agree, but let her finish."

"But...!"

"Come, petite, let's not leave a story half-told, non?" Gambit smiled at her, convincing a reluctant Jubilee to let me continue.

"True or not, being able to heal was the only thing I saw as making me eligible to be one of the team with the rest of you. In every other sector except mission support and research work with Hank, I was nothing more than a burden, always having to be babysat in the Danger Room." I lifted a shoulder. "Sure, I had my sword, but I wasn't good with it. So I put my all into being support, being your medic. I didn't mind that. I prided myself on it."

"So when your abilities were challenged by Professor's Xavier neurological injuries, and you were unable to deliver a satisfactory outcome..." Hank murmured, trailing off. I nodded.

"Yup, got it in one." I stared at the table again, propping my chin up on my interlaced hands. "The one time I really, truly had to save someone, and I couldn't. I failed to save one of the most important mutants to us and mutant-kind. And to make it worse, it was because of a rule I put on myself!" My hands curled into fists, soft trills of pressure-pain coming from the joints that were now locked tightly together. I pushed them aside. "If I knew how to heal brain injuries, I could have saved him! Instead I just..."

I took a breath, pressing my forehead into my knuckles to swallow down the flare of emotion that rose in me, stinging at my eyes. I released it, slow and steady, unknotting my fingers and stretching them out. The trilling faded.

"I just had to watch him die, with the rest you. I felt like a failure. I still feel like a failure, even now. He took me under his wing to protect me, gave me food, lodgings, and a stipend, and what did I do to repay him? Let him die."

"Dat ain't true, chère." Gambit said firmly. "Ain't what you did at all."

My gaze snapped to him, a retort on the tip of my tongue when Rogue interjected:

"Remy's right, Shadow." She folded her arms, straightening her back. "If you call what ya did 'letting' him die, I hate to see ya fightin' to save someone."

To my surprise, murmurs of agreement sounded out around me.

"If I remember correctly," Jean said, "it was the Professor himself who told you to stop working so he could wish us goodbye. You fought until the very end."

"Indeed!" Hank nodded. "Whilst your treatments were palliative rather than curative, you expended most of your power to keep the Professor not only alive, but comfortable. If not for your Herculean efforts, Xavier might not have survived long enough for Magneto to join us to call for Lilandra, which in turn saved his life, even if he is not physically present with us anymore."

"But he-" My protest was cut short when Hank shook his head.

"Perhaps Professor Xavier was clinically deceased for a few moments. But only a few, before Shi'ar technology revived him." Hank smiled. "It does not matter if your actions alone were found wanting, if the outcome was positive regardless." He frowned thoughtfully for a moment, stroking his chin with his claws. "Shadow, if an emergency physician becomes exhausted in the performance of external cardiopulmonary resuscitation, and has to hand-over to their colleague, if that colleague ends up restoring spontaneous circulation, does that make the previous physician a failure?"

"No!" I shook my head. "No. They tried their best, they were just exhausted."

"Exactly. You personally might not have been the architect of saving the Professor's life. But through your efforts, you kept him alive long enough so he could be."

It felt like my whole world tilted on its axis. All this time...I hadn't failed at all?

"I...I just..." I couldn't grasp the words with the enormity of it all, of their faith in me. Their lack of disappointment.

"You put the Professor's survival solely on your shoulders." Scott pressed, stepping closer. "You had to save him because that is what you do. That is what you're good at." His expression softened with his voice. "So when you don't manage it, you lose your purpose." He tilted his head. "Sound about right?"

Words fully failed me then, and it was all I could do to nod as the emotions came roaring back. Except this time there was no holding it back, not when Scott had essentially read my feelings out to me if they had been nothing more than a script. My eyes burned as they filled with hot tears, my breath shuddering and heavy as a strangled sob tore itself from my throat. Gambit's arm looped around my waist and pulled me close into his body.

"Oh, sugah..." Rogue murmured.

"You are more than just a healer to us, Shadow." Storm said kindly. "You are a confidante, a friend." Through my blurred eyes, I glimpsed her angle her head towards someone. "More than a friend, in some cases."

"Indeed." Hank, now. He offered me a handkerchief, which I gratefully took with mumbled thanks. "Even if you were stripped of your powers, I would never dream of trading your partnership in my work, or your confidence in which to discuss theories of the biomedical nature."

"Yeah, who else am I gonna beat at Mario Kart?" Jubilee piped up. "Gambit?"

A chuckle bubbled out of me, and I felt the Cajun raise an eyebrow in her direction.

"Jus' keep talkin', petite." He drawled. Jubilee grinned mischievously back at him.

"It..." I swallowed hard, wiping away my tears as best I could. "It wasn't just that. I..." I couldn't bear to meet their eyes as I admitted it: "I thought you'd be mad at me."

A rippled 'what?!' sounded out amongst the assembled crew, including the man sitting next to me.

"Sugah, why'd we be mad at you?" Asked Rogue incredulously.

"Because it was the Professor." I forced my voice to be louder than a mutter, despite desiring more than anything to screw myself up into a little ball and vanish. I envied Miranda's invisibility. "You knew him so much better and longer than me, not to mention everything he did for mutant rights and this school and everything. A-And here's me, a fucking outsider, comes swanning in and cocks up healing him the one time I really needed to bring my A-game." Gambit's arm around me tightened slightly.

I dragged my gaze up to Scott and Jean. "I thought you would hate me, especially since you both knew him the longest."

They were shaking their heads before I'd even finished my sentence.

"No, of course not." Jean said, reaching out to touch my hand. "We'd never hate you for doing your best."

Scott nodded his agreement, before casting a look over the others.

"I think I can safely say that goes for everyone here too." A chorus of affirmatives and nods replied to him.

"But that's what you wanted to believe, weren't it?" Logan suddenly spoke up. His gaze was like steel, yet old. Knowing. "Easier to stomach people hatin' you for failing, then get pity you don't feel you deserve."

I nodded, and felt Gambit's grip tighten again, his head gently resting against mine.

"Explains why you got increasingly agitated despite Jean and I's attempts to comfort you." Scott said.

"You wanted us to be angry, so it would justify your self-hatred for 'failing'." Added Jean.

"Easier to run when ya don' think anyone gon' follow you." Gambit murmured, his voice rumbling through his chest.

"Ah. The evening Gambit found you outside, afflicted with hypothermia." Whilst Hank didn't say it, I felt the 'self-afflicted' hang in the air like a stain.

"'Xactly." Curling a finger under my chin, Gambit very gently lifted my head to look him, his red black eyes soft and tender. "You were runnin' again, weren't ya, chère?"

I wrapped my arms around myself, pulling my head away to stare at the floor.

"...Yeah. I...I couldn't bear it. So I ran away." Another squeeze from the Cajun.

"What changed your mind, Shadow? That made you return?" Storm asked. "I doubt it was your feelings for Gambit alone that brought you back to us, as strong as they may be."

"It was definitely the catalyst, but no, there was more to it." I traced the whorls of the wood grain on the table. "I tried to return to what my normal life was before I met you all. The hospital took me back as a 'gesture of goodwill' towards mutants after the Professor's 'death'." Logan snorted derisively. "Yeah, I know. Not worth the paper it was written on. Regardless, even if it was never definitively 'proved' I was a mutant, a lot of people saw me as one anyway."

"And it turns out that a place that has a procedure to report suspected mutant employees tends to attract people who dislike mutants. Who'd've thunk." I sighed bitterly. "I guess I was so human-passing I never noticed it, much to my shame. I will say, no-one was outright hostile to me, and interactions were polite, but they were cool in that way that you knew if there wasn't a HR department, they'd be saying something completely different. It was like being in high school again, completely iced out of every social circle and treated like a pariah."

"I am very sorry that happened to you, Shadow." Hank frowned, his tone friendly, yet a sharp edge was faint underneath it, not pointed towards me. "Are you still employed by them?"

"For now, but probably not for much longer." I said. "I know that's probably part of the reason they're isolating me - so I'll leave on my own accord, but..." I heaved out a sigh. "Fuck, after everything I've experienced here, I have no capacity for dealing with petty workplace politics."

"Indeed. It will be their loss for their foolishness." The doctor nodded.

"You have my sympathies, Shadow, but I'm not sure how this is relevant." Scott spoke, raising an eyebrow.

"Trying to go back to my old normal proved to me that I can't." I explained. "Being here, helping the team however I can, it's more than what I was doing." Raising my hand as Hank opened his mouth, I continued: "I know in my heart of hearts that I am doing good in my own way, but...it feels so...so intangible. I could see what I was doing here. See the wounds I closed, the tests Hank and I did, discovering new ways to fight the Sentinels when we trained."

I looked away, staring at a point on the wall. "Unless I suddenly get fit enough and pass the exams to become a paramedic and find someone who'd hire a mutant, I'll never do anything that feels like it matters, that makes a difference."

I smiled ruefully. "That and Ebak kinda...opened my eyes a little bit." My eyes shifted back to Gambit, watching me intently. "And gave me the push to really...reach for the things I want." Laying my hand out on the table, palm up, I smiled at him. "As that Bon Jovi song goes: 'to live while I'm alive'."

A smile spread across Gambit's lips as well, one that reached his eyes, and he placed his hand in mine, interlacing our fingers together.

"Not bad taste, chère." He commented. Jubilee snorted.

"You're sure not beating the 'old woman' allegations, Shadow." She arched an eyebrow at me, before dissolving into giggles as I stuck my tongue out at her.

"So aside from finally admittin' you and Gumbo have something goin' on," Logan drawled, giving me a bored look, "anything else you discovered? Sure hope it ain't that you can give Summers a run for his money in the speech department."

"Can it, Logan." Scott snapped. "Not the time."

Anger flashed across Logan's face, and I quickly raised my other hand:

"It's fine, Scott!" I said hurriedly. "I do need to get to the point." I squeezed Gambit's hand slightly, gathering my composure. "My point is, I didn't just come back for Remy." I lifted my chin up, meeting Scott's eyes behind his red glasses. "I'd like to rejoin the team. If you'll have me."

"What makes ya think we'd say 'no', sugah?" Rogue chuckled richly, grinning widely.

"Indeed." Jean smiled. "It was always the impression that you were leaving temporarily to clear your mind and make a more informed decision away from us."

"You are always welcome in my laboratory and in our life, Shadow!" Hank cried, smiling broadly. "I welcome your company. And your opinions on recent matters!"

"Steady on McCoy, let's not overwhelm the woman and make her change her mind." Logan commented, a small smile playing on his lips.

"That a 'yes', Wolvie?" Jubilee grinned at him. He grunted, shrugging.

"Yeah, well, someone needs to keep the rest of you in one piece." He arched an eyebrow, shooting a smirk at the Cajun. "That and Gumbo won't be sneaking out at all times at night to see her."

"Didn' know ya cared, Logan!" Quipped Gambit, grinning back at him.

"Hmph." Logan folded his arms. "Care more 'bout the security risk of leaving your window open to go chat your lady up."

"You are more than welcome back with us, Shadow." Storm smiled warmly. "As Rogue herself said, there is no reason to think we would refuse you. Both as a member of the team, and good friend."

I blushed brightly under their affection, ducking my head.

"T-Thank you. I...I just-"

"Felt like you needed permission, right?" Scott supplied.

"...Yeah." I nodded. He smiled, one that I think reached his obscured eyes.

"I know the feeling." He reached a hand out to me. "Then allow me to welcome you back to the X-Men, Shadow."

I clasped his hand to shake it, and felt Gambit press a kiss to my head.

"Welcome back, mon ombre." He rumbled deeply, the timbre of his voice brimming with affection.

"Th...Thank you." I smiled shyly, looking around the kitchen to each face of the X-Men. More people who called me friend. "All of you."

"You can have today to settle back in," Scott said, immediately back to business, "but tomorrow you'll be included in the drills with the rest of the team."

"If I may," Hank piped up, lifting a clawed finger, "I have identified a slight issue."

"Go on, Hank?" Scott frowned slightly.

"I presume you've returned to full-time employment, Shadow? Will you be able to make time for your duties around it?" The doctor asked.

"I will, one way or t'other." I replied. "Gonna submit a request for part-time hours later today, and see what they say. Either they grant me the request; in which I'll get the time, or they'll refuse me, or I'll be fired." I lifted a shoulder. "If they refuse me, I'll just hand in my notice. Life's too damn short for their nonsense."

Scott nodded.

"I'll take that into consideration."

"Have you discussed this with your parents?" Asked Storm.

"Not yet. I was gonna head home today and get things in motion with my work." I explained.

"Need a ride back, chère?" Gambit asked. I swore I saw Rogue roll her eyes out of the corner of my eye.

"Ah, it's okay," I smiled at him. "I know a guy. He's waiting for me to check in, and he can take me back."

"Then let's not keep him waiting." Scott spoke. "You're dismissed, team."

---

One quick call later, and Ebak was stepping out of the shadows of one of the X-Mansion's rooms, wrapping me up in a big hug.

"Hello Gremlin." He murmured affectionately.

"Hey big guy." I replied, squeezing him gently.

When I opened my eyes and stepped back, we were behind a set of trees I knew to be in my parents' neighbourhood, their bare branches reaching for the sky. The suburb was quiet except the distant chattering of the local starling flock as it roved from garden to garden.

"Can't get any closer?" I asked him as we stepped out onto the path, raised and cracked by the tree roots that snaked under it.

"I could get a little closer, but figured the walk would give us time to talk." Ebak smiled, gesturing for me to start off, falling into step with me on his hearing side. "So, m'dear, how'd it go?"

"Well, they let me back onto the team, so that's good, right?" I smiled shyly.

"You've decided to rejoin them?" He smiled warmly, quickly pulling me into a half-hug. "I'm glad."

"Yeah. Decided to grab life by the lapels, like you said." I met his dark brown eyes. "Do the things that I want to do."

"Mmm." He hummed, before smirking, eyes glinting. "I have pretty good ideas, don't I?"

"Oh my God, you are never letting me live down the 'hot shower on a hot day' thing, are you?" I groaned, to his laughter.

"Nope." He grinned widely. "Never."

"I changed my mind," I declared, "can I go back to being an only child again?" Ebak's laugh was a full belly one; a sound I loved to hear, even at my expense. "In seriousness though, I heard from Jubilee that you and the others that you stopped going to the mansion after I left. Was...was that because of me?"

He nodded.

"Myst said it didn't feel right for us to go there whilst you weren't, and we agreed." He explained. "Lemming stayed on the longest to work, and Miranda...has her own reasons, but all in all we stopped going when you did."

My heart dropped into a bucket of ice, the painful wave of guilt pulsing through my veins. No, that hadn't been my intention at all - I was supposed to leave the mansion and their company, not the others. I never wanted-

"I'm sorry." I breathed. "I-"

"Shh shh shh." Ebak moved over to me, taking hold of my upper arms. "Hush. No blaming yourself." He raised a finger as I tried to protest. "I'll tell Ber!"

"But El-"

"Don't 'but El' me, I'm being serious." He interjected. "This was an agreement between all of us, because even if it had been someone else like Miranda, Myst or Ber, we still wouldn't feel happy going to a place our friend felt like they had to leave." Ebak smiled. "Where'd you think we got all that free time to be with you?"

"I..." I grabbed and hugged him tightly, emotion overwhelming me once more. He embraced me just as firmly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Shad." My brother murmured softly. "We love you, you know?"

Tears pricked at my eyes.

"Y-Yeah. And I love you all so much too. I'm so lucky to have friends like you."

"And we're lucky to have you too." Ebak replied, patting my back before he pulled back. "Now c'mon. Let's get you back home before they send out a search party."

"You did tell 'em where I'd be, right?" I asked as we set off again. I remembered leaving a note...

"Well yes, but they're your parents. They're going to worry." Ebak smiled. "Just like we do."

"True." I nodded. Suddenly, a realization hit me like a lorry. "Oh...God."

"Hmm?" He hummed, arching his scarred eyebrow.

"I just realized." I groaned. "I gotta introduce Gambit to my parents at some point."

"Haha!" My brother barked out a laugh. "Good luck with that!"

"Thanks! Very reassuring!"

Ebak patted my back.

"It'll be fine, Shadow." He smiled. "He loves cats, doesn't he? They'll just need to see him with Spock, and they'll love him!"

"Uh huh, the six foot Cajun thief with a motorbike and penchant for being a flirt." I said flatly. "He'll go down real well next to Tom."

"Hehe, maybe." Ebak smiled knowingly at me, a sparkle in his eyes. "But that's not going to stop you, is it?"

I grinned widely.

"No. Not in the slightest."

[superlativesamsara]

Okay I've been procrastinating long enough and I've got like fifteen minutes of downtime so who wants to learn about Soul, and more specifically spirit particles and the Quincy arts?

Okay, now below the cut, hey there, glad you're interested. Weird shit upfront, Quincy Powers are funky, in that on paper anyone can use them with a focus, they're also hereditary, that is to say, using them extensively will cause gradual, subtle alterations in the makeup of your soul that will allow your children (and theirs and etc) to use the powers. I figure things like blood adoption or inheritance rituals should also transfer this ability retroactively but I've never tested it so good luck have fun there I guess.

Now, without Further Ado! Part 1: What's a Quincy and How Do They Work?

Well essentially, what differentiates a Quincy from a baseline human, is the natural capacity to interact with and to varying extents control spirit particles, which will henceforth be referred to as Reishi. This is accomplished by expenditure of Reiki, spirit energy. Reishi is produced and naturally shed by the souls of all living beings as they grow and mature. In animist worlds, they can probably also come from rocks and stuff that have spirits but, again, never tested, so not relevant to the discussion. Reiki, likewise, is produced by the soul, much like other forms of spiritual energy such as Ki, Hado, etc.

The original original Quincy Order draws its lineage from an incarnate deity, the Soul King, though the specific nature of said deity and their relation to it is variable from universe to universe. What doesn't vary, however, is that the most effective focus for Quincy powers, whether wielded by born Quincy or baseline humanity, is the Soul King's personal crest, a five-pointed cross, typically worn as a silver charm on the wrist. Through this symbol, even those without the natural propensity for such an ability can channel Reiki to manipulate Reishi.

The Quincy Order, in their native universe, were founded by a man with the dubious distinction of housing a large fragment of the soul of the Soul King, granting him great power and strange abilities relating to the forming and manipulation of Reishi. He founded the organization with the intent to protect humanity from the predation of spiritual beings that were commonplace in his world but nigh unheard of in the greater multiverse, so I shan't dwell on them for now. I will however note that, with the aid of the lovely @valorxdrive, I can confirm that Reishi-forged weaponry is effective against Heartless, should that be an issue relevant to your local slice of multiverse.

Anyway, back to the history lesson, given that, at the time, since the abilities were in their infancy, the average Quincy could hardly be expected to stand up to a race of spiritual being all but evolved to predate upon humanity, the order used their newfound powers to forge bows and arrows of spiritual energy, that they might engage their foes from a safer distance. Over time, techniques were invented that would level the playing field, such as abilities that harness Reishi to reinforce the body's strength and durability, and a variation of the flashstep, but despite this fact it remained the traditional Quincy doctrine to primarily favor bows and other forms of ranged weaponry.

But! Now that we've passed the basics of the history lesson (feel free to drop asks in my box if you want more details later) we can move on to the meat of "you keep talking about these powers but how do they actually *work*, Rose?"

Well! Simple, really, once you've got a feel for your spiritual senses (or a focus to do half the work for you). You lightly expand your Reiki into the air around you, saturating the ambient Reishi particles with it, and then you *pull* on that energy to drag the particles along with it into the desired form. Depending on the person, and with extensive practice, you might find that combining your Reiki and Reishi in the proper shapes or formulas will naturally create interesting effects. For example, in the proper ratios, my Reiki turns Reishi shadowy and causes it to take on a vaporous appearance.

Additionally, through practice, one will obtain a sensitivity to the spiritual aspects of the material plane, able to sense spiritual beings or significant expenditures of spiritual power nearby. The range of this is dependent on the person in question and the magnitude of what they're trying to sense.

That's about all I have to ramble without any prompting (again, ask box, right there :D), but as a bit of a tidbit because I know someone wants to ask: yes, you can harden things other than your skin with Reishi. No, I would not recommend trying to stand on air without extensive practice because it is very hard to get the amount of self-applied back force just right.

[papermint-airplane]

Previously on The Non-Canon Just Because I Feel Like It Bachelor Challenge...

Seven contestants answered the casting call to join a Bachelor Challenge reality show. Once they arrived to the filming location, however, they were rendered unconscious by an unseen force while signing the standard reality show waiver, then abducted into parts unknown of OUTER SPACE!!! where they regained consciousness and were forced to sign a new waiver they weren't allowed to read.

Despite the fact that this show was now taking a decidedly different format than the one they signed up for, the girls decided to remain calm and proceed as if everything was perfectly normal. Well, some of them.

Eleanor: Am I the only one weirded out by this?

Their mission was to compete in challenges to win the heart of Aiden Ayy, our alien bachelor. Unlike the contestants, Aiden never signed up for a reality show in the first place. Instead, he was abducted from his Earth home where he had been stranded for 18 years, and held captive in a separate pod from the women. Why was he chosen to be the bachelor in this reality show? Because...uh...because of rational non-petty reasons unrelated to any sort of deep-seated desire to see this particular man suffer.

It's simply because he...uh...he looks good on camera. Yeah, that's it.

See? The camera loves him.

Anyway. *cough*

The first challenge, a waffle-making contest, was held and the apparently-duplicitous Rose was the failure of the week.

She was ejected from the house, but not before she could reveal her true colors as a spiteful sore loser who vowed to return and do whatever it took to win.

Why does she want to win so badly? Does she care about Aiden at all or is defeating the competition and being declared the victor the only thing that matters to her?

Bailey, the challenge winner, became the first contestant to go on a one-on-one date with Aiden. The two, though awkward at first, began to hit it off with one another.

That's when Bailey dropped the bombshell that she was still in love with her ex-boyfriend who she had been forbidden to see by her father. Bailey then tried to forfeit the competition but I, the all-powerful Watcher, refused to let her leave of her own volition. If anyone leaves this house, it's because I said they can, understand? That's how this show works, and don't any of you forget it!

Bailey moped for a bit.

Viridia slapped the shit out of Kitty.

The two events were unrelated, mind you, but it was hilarious. I just had to see it again. Sometimes, I just replay that part over and over again just to see the stupid look on her face.

The next challenge began *cough* shortly afterwards, but there was something decidedly off about this one.

It soon became apparent that Rose, the thorn in my side she is, had somehow managed to evade my security measures and sneaked her way into my control room during my lunch break, locking me out in the process. For whatever lame-brained reason, she forced the contestants to ride a bull to prove their commitment to Aiden which is just so incredibly stupid to me. I mean what does riding a bull have to do with dating someone? Is this a sex thing? Is this a metaphor about taking charge in a relationship? Did any thought go into this whatsoever?

Predictably, Kitty, the contestant with the largest proverbial stick lodged firmly up her proverbial ass, lost. Even though this challenge was not my idea, after valiantly wresting control of the competition from Rose (entirely off screen so you'll have to imagine how that went down) I decided that Kitty's loss was canon. Honestly, I just wanted to get rid of her. Her constant lectures on propriety were bringing down the whole vibe.

Bailey attempted to throw the competition yet again, but it was Kitty who was ultimately ejected from the house much to the delight of me, Viridia, and the viewing public at large.

Speaking of Viridia, she was the winner of the challenge, and just as soon as I get this jerry-rigged satellite back into position to continue my pirate broadca--I mean, completely legitimate broadcast --she will be going on a one-on-one date with Aiden.

Where will the competition go from here? It's anyone's guess! Will the growing alliance between Eleanor and Bailey become an issue for me maintaining control of the house? Will Rose return to wreak havoc once again? Will Viridia blow out Aiden's eardrums when it's just the two of them in close proximity with each other? Will my devious machinations be revealed? Will the various intergalactic law enforcement agencies who have been keeping a keen eye on this completely legitimate broadcast finally locate the planet the hostages--I mean contestants are being held on? Will Tumblr stop messing up the format of my posts so the pictures are in the body of text instead of all clumped together at the top of the post?

Find out soon on...

The Non-Canon Just Because I Feel Like It Bachelor Challenge!

[Beginning] [Previous] [Next]

[ryssbelle]

Had a silly dream where JD and Floyd came back to the troll tree before the last trollstice but after singing killed their grandma and decided to doodle and expand upon it a bit

Clay never left the tree but was too scared to return to the families pod since he didn’t want things to go back to how they were before, he did try to find his brothers during the escape but got separated by the cave in.

John Dory was the one to find Clay and see him get caught by the cave in, when he came out of the tunnel without Clay and holding his wristband they all just assumed he was dead. Even so JD still searches for Clay with the hope that he might’ve escaped and is alive out there.

They know Bruce is alive but after JD got the post card he assumed Bruce didn’t want to be found

Some more doodles that kind of show their dynamic

Also-

JD always brings home souvenirs for the brothers both as an apology for being gone for so long and also because of this:

[diginuisance]

Nooo Ienzo don't feel guilty about things your dads did when you were a kid that you had no control over!!! Noooo he can't hear me he has gummi airpods in!!!

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type AU.

Soap is the long forgotten god of death.

Ghost is his first follower in a very long time.

Ao3 /// part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7 /// part 8 /// part 9

————

At first, Soap had been seen as kind and benevolent. The one to end someone’s suffering and help them along to the afterlife. However, as more wars began to break out, his perception changed into that of a bloodthirsty warmonger. The type that you sacrifice the blood of innocents to for luck in your upcoming battles.

Soap had simply ignored the brutish offerings. But then they spread. Like a plague, soon everyone was murdering their chosen victims in his temples in the hopes that it would bring them even more fortune.

Realizing that his presence was just causing more and more to die, he let himself fade away. He was reduced to nothing more than a comforting feeling people felt before they died. Over time, the so-called offerings stopped. Scared of what would happen should he return, he continued to fade.

A god is only as strong as their followers believe them to be. With no followers, no offerings, they are nothing. While mortal weaponry may hurt a god, may even get them to bleed, it cannot kill them. A god can only truly die when they are no longer remembered.

Soap is waiting for the day that he is truly forgotten and can pass on when he gets a feeling. One he has not had in an age. Though his worshippers have abandoned him, his temples and statues remained, though now significantly worse for wear. And someone just provided an offering of a single slice of bread on one of his statues.

A meager offering, sure, but it’s enough to get his attention. He has almost no power nor any energy left, but he sees a soldier sitting next to the statue as he ate his meal.

Meanwhile, Ghost hadn’t the faintest clue what god he just gave an offering to, but he felt a little better afterwards and so just hoped they weren’t evil. He took note of the statue’s appearance and when his troop was encamped near a town, he snuck away to a local library to see if there were any books he could find about it.

He was not apart of the army willingly, but he owed them a life debt and they had decided that it would only be repaid upon his death. Just a glorified prisoner, he was kept at the general’s side as his favorite weapon. Sneaking away was difficult, but definitely doable. The few times he was caught, he made enough of a disturbance that it was easier for everyone involved to let him do his thing.

They did not need to worry about him running away. If he was able, he’d have run the second he was given the chance. However, he was stuck. As long as he owed a debt, he could not leave.

The statue, at the very least, gave him something to do.

He was intrigued. He did not recognize the features at all, and his research confirmed that it was not a well known deity. It takes a long time of asking the right people and finding the right books to uncover the story of the forgotten god.

Having read everything — from loving poems about the being helping sickly children find comfort in their last moments to angry anecdotes about desperate townspeople sacrificing themselves in the hope that the god would show them mercy — he decides to give the god the benefit of the doubt.

He figures the world is shitty enough, why not find some good that had been tucked away? Ghost himself was seen more as a weapon than a person and couldn’t help but sympathize. He was never one for gods or worship, more likely to curse the heavens than ever sacrifice something of his, but he almost felt bad for the being. So, the next day, from one bloodthirsty monster to another, he gives the forgotten god more offerings.

It’s still not much, just an apple and a ring the general wouldn’t notice missing, but he sets them there anyways. He damn near jumps out of his fucking skin when the feeling of an accepted offering floods through him. He stares at what would have originally been the face of the statue, but nothing happens. The trees behind him continue to sing their song in the faint breeze, with the sounds of a lively woods never fading.

There is no outside sound, no out of place movement, no indication that he hadn’t just imagined the feeling. A leaf falling from one of the branches and landing on the pedestal, where the offerings were now gone, snapped him out of his staring contest. He muttered out a gruff thanks and sat down to eat, ignoring the feeling of being watched.

[lazycranberrydoodles]

chapter 2 - reincarnation (masterpost here)

[dandelionjack]

saw this on the forbidden app could not resist reposting because it’s true. “the one who waits is almost here” is lazy LAZY writing. stop dangling lore in front of our faces… make it SUBTLE. show not tell…

did russell go to the chibnall school of bad screenwriting before his return because these episodes do genuinely feel like they’ve been created by a different person entirely than the emotionally intelligent, thoughtful showrunner who gave us the first four series

[azural83]

The recent wave of movies/shows that go on a "tell don't show" route because people behind them think consumers are too stupid to understand a thing on their own makes me appreciate arcane more than I did before

[hedgerlogs]

If you're still taking requests, can you draw Tsukumo? :D

he won a harrowing ebay battle

[writingwithfolklore]

When to Info Dump

                I was taught as a young writer to never ever ‘info dump’. An info dump is a paragraph (or several) that just runs the readers through info they need to know. While avoiding info dumps is typically a good practice—lots of information at once can be overwhelming, boring, or ‘cheap’—as with most things in writing, never say never. Recently, I finished a book that info dumps often, and with intention, and it worked.

                To info dump well, you actually have to do it often (or relatively often). Just one info dump somewhere in the middle or beginning of the story is going to seem like a mistake. Using it as a literary technique however, and it adds a sort of intrigue, whimsy, or discordant tone to your story.

                In this way, it becomes a quirk of your narrator’s voice. It should match or make sense with the character you are following. A super serious, meticulous character may info dump in the way they would list off the information they know. A more bubbly character may info dump out of excitement to share their interests.

                Which brings us to the type of information you can reasonably info dump without getting in trouble. Of course, the information shared should be stuff that your character would know, but also, information that they would care to share.

                For example, that serious character would info dump only pertinent, personally important information, whereas the bubbly character probably wouldn’t info dump about real estate or politics—unless of course it’s part of their special interests. A detail oriented character may only info dump about things they are noticing in the moment. A history buff would definitely info dump about culture and the past.

                Essentially, use the right amount, for the right character, with the right information, and you can pull off an intentional and well-done info dump. Otherwise, avoid it!

                What are your thoughts on exposition or info-dumping?

[shadowphoenixrider]

Skin Deep (2/2)

(Continuation to this. I hope you like dialogue because, erm, there's a lot of it here! Also forgive me for my first attempt are writing...most of the X-Men here! I'm doing my best! Medical descriptions continue, but with less blood this time.)

"So, Hank, tell us what you've discovered of our new friend's mutant powers." Professor Xavier said, gesturing for the doctor to speak.

"Shadow's power are utterly fascinating!" Beast replied excitedly, glancing briefly to the young woman sitting on the medical cot, before addressing the others that had gathered in equal curiosity; Wolverine and Rogue stood either side of the professor, whilst Gambit leaned up against the wall, shuffling his cards to keep his hands busy.

"She has the gift of cellular communication and manipulation; not to the extent of being able to shapeshift, but it seems she is able to perform manipulations on the micro-level to command cells to move, divide and perform all their specialised functions as they have evolved to do. Indeed, she is so in tune with them, she can process information from them as if they were her own; sometimes even more efficiently than normal."

"How so?" Xavier asked, steepling his fingers.

"Cells in our bodies communicate by the use of biochemical signalling." It was Shadow who spoke this time. "With the exception of nerve cells, which use the changes in their membrane potential - a form of electrical charge - to transmit electrical signals, usually by the use of voltage gated ion channels."

"Fucking hell, now there's two of them." Wolverine groaned, and Gambit had to suppress a smirk.

"I can control these signals myself, but I also seem to be able to...streamline them? I can make things happen much more quickly than what a human or mutant's body could do alone." Shadow nodded to Gambit. "A pneumothorax-"

"A pneumo-what?" Rogue frowned. "English please, sugah."

"Pneumothorax - 'air in chest'." Shadow explained. "It's when air becomes trapped in the pleural sac that wraps around the lungs to keep them lubricated, and avoid friction from rubbing against the ribs as they inflate and deflate. Usually those of the size I found in Gambit's require a drain, but I managed to eliminate it just by speeding the process of the reabsorption of air into the surrounding tissues."

"Not only that, but the wound you repaired." Beast gestured. "Gambit, if you'd be so kind to show the rest of us your right palm."

Gambit tugged his glove off, opening his hand up to the others as they leaned over.

"There's nothing there, sugah." Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Sure you're not jokin' with us?"

"Non, there definitely were something here, mon amie." Gambit said. "Made a mistake wit one of my cards durin' de scuffle, cut my hand open pretty bad. Couldn't move my fingers dat well after. Like they be caught on something."

"It was a deep laceration with an injury to a palmar digital vein and a seventy-five percent division of the extensor tendons." Shadow added. "A repair that would have certainly required surgery and several months of hand therapy to heal properly."

Wolverine uttered a low whistle. Gambit found himself flexing his fingers. No wonder she was so intent on healing me. That fils de putain nearly disabled me for months!

"And yet there's not a mark to be seen." Xavier commented, rubbing his chin. "How does it feel, Gambit?"

"Like before it were hurt." He replied, spinning a card expertly through his fingers to demonstrate. "Wouldn't have believed it myself if Gambit didn't see it happen wit his own eyes." He looked to Shadow, offering her a smile. She returned it with a shy one of her own, ducking her head.

"I've told you how the scene looked when Wolverine and I got there, Professor." Heads turned to see Cyclops walking into the medbay. "Yet Gambit was completely fine. Shadow's power seems to be like Wolverine's healing on tap."

"Glad you could join us, Cyclops." Xavier smiled. Gambit noticed movement out of the corner of his eye; Shadow had tilted her head in the very same motion she had when they'd first met. "Yes, I remember your description of the scene. It is very fortunate Gambit crossed paths with someone with such gifts."

"Petite?" The Cajun asked, shifting attention once again. Shadow's blue eyes flicked back and forth a moment, thinking.

"You've got a cut, Cyclops," she said. "I think it's...your left hand?"

Everyone's gaze swung back to said mutant, who looked taken aback.

"I...I do. I got a papercut a couple of minutes ago. How did you-"

"Ya hearin' something," Gambit's eyes fixed on Shadow, realization dawning, "aren't you?"

She blushed, looking away and scratching at the back of her neck.

"Yeah." Her gaze returned, although now she was looking at her feet dangling off the edge of the cot, her hand playing with her hair. "It's...a part of my power. When hurt or damaged, cells release a chemical signal to call for assistance. For some reason, I can hear it. The stronger the sound, the more the person is hurt."

"Extraordinary!" Beast breathed.

"Lotta people hurt in lotta differn' ways. Bein' able to hear all that, all the time? That sounds a pretty noisy life, sugah." Rogue said gently.

"Yes and no." Shadow admitted. "It seems to be just for recent traumatic injuries than anything chronic like cancer. But..." She wrapped her arms around herself. "You're right. I've had to learn to tune it out sometimes. Especially in crowded places, but also..." Her fingers curled into her hoodie. "People get weird sometimes when you offer to help. You know?"

No-one had to say anything, or even nod to understand. Even the mutants who could pass knew the tightrope you had to walk, not to hint or suggest you were something else, an 'other'. Regardless of the comfort in your own skin, the danger remained in the back of your head.

"I am sorry your gifts have brought you sorrow." Xavier spoke kindly.

"Thank you, but I'm one of the lucky ones." Shadow replied, smiling sadly. "It's easy enough to hide, and it doesn't give me too many problems."

"Now hold on a second." Wolverine spoke up. "If it's easy to hide, why'd you get attacked in the first place?"

"The sound I hear when someone's in pain is like tinnitus - a ringing tone." Shadow explained. "But I heard a completely different noise, like the signal was going in and out." She sighed, running a hand through her curly hair. "I got curious, followed it to the source, which was the guy with a gun welded to his arm." A wry smile. "I asked if he was doing ok, and he took offence. You know the rest."

"The cybernetics were extremely crude." Beast mused, scratching his chin. "You were likely hearing his body under stress, reacting to the foreign matter forcibly bonded to it."

"Den you were in the wrong place at the wrong time." Gambit shook his head, twirling a card over his fingers. "Lucky I were dere, petite."

"Yes." Cyclops folded his arms. "Though it sounds like he would have attacked anyone, mutant or otherwise. He just got 'lucky'."

"That's not exactly comforting, Slim." Was Wolverine's gruff response.

"At least this escalation appears restricted to a single person." Xavier spoke calmly. "A dangerous extremist that we managed to stop before he could cause any damage."

"Gambit beg to differ." The Cajun grumbled.

"What've you gotta worry 'bout?" Rogue grinned at him, thumping him on the shoulder almost hard enough to knock him to the side. "She fixed you right up!"

"Dat don't mean it didn't hurt de whole time!" He retorted, shooting her a look. She just replied with a raised eyebrow, amused. "'Sides, dat fight be harder den Gambit expecting." He frowned, looking back to the professor. "If dey start figurin' out how to wire dose blasters up, we're gon' be in a lotta trouble."

"Indeed." Xavier nodded. "However, we are getting off subject." He turned back to Shadow and Beast. "You clearly have some control over your powers, but I am curious of the limits of your potential. I presume you've never used them in anger?"

"No." Shadow shook her head. Gambit raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully.

Lying...? He wondered.

"I can't manipulate cells beyond one or two in a pteri dish without having direct skin-to-skin contact with them, and it takes a while to establish the connection with another's body." Shadow continued. "And that's not easy to do when they are other things going on - people throwing hands at you tends to disrupt your concentration."

The Cajun's dark gaze flicked to Xavier, wondering if he sensed the same thing he had. The Professor may have the clarity of a telepath, but Gambit had read more than enough people to sense something was off. His gut told him there was something she wasn't telling them. But what, he had no idea.

"I get the impression that our friend has learned to control her mutation, yet little more." Beast suggested. "Do you practice your powers at all, Shadow?"

"On myself, yeah. I use them when no-one's looking, to heal bumps and scrapes." She folded her arms. "Hard to practice on others though, without revealing myself."

"I can imagine it's not an easy thing to ask someone." Cyclops said. Gambit traced the edge of the card he was holding, recalling the strange feeling of someone under his skin.

"No. Nor easy to explain." Shadow sighed, her hands fidgeting with her sleeves. "I was lucky I had an understanding partner for a while, who let me practice on him."

Gambit saw Rogue cross her arms from the corner of his eye, sadness flashing across her face for a moment.

"What happened to him?" She asked softly. Shadow's shoulders slumped.

"Things fell apart. He loved me for who I was...but he wanted that part of me to stay a neat party trick, something to put on the shelf that only the two of us could use as an asset." She scowled. "There were other problems, that of two high school sweethearts growing up and away from one another, but it was my powers that broke us in the end. Because they can be safely ignored, he wanted me to just put them aside and concentrate on marrying, settling down and having babies together. As if my powers aren't a part of me like my eyes or lungs or hair!"

Her lips curled into a furious snarl, eyes flashing with boiling resentment.

"I have a power that doctors could only dream of having, something that could help, and instead he just...wanted me to forget about it, pretend to be normal!" The anger soon broke however, and a thickness entered her voice. "I'll never be normal. And after everything we'd both been through, I thought he'd understand that better than anyone."

Shadow chuckled bitterly.

"Not that it really matters now, though. Even if they'd let me practice as a mutant, I never could pass the tests needed to qualify as a proper clinician." She glanced up at Beast, who offered her a sympathetic smile. "Had to go for a lab tech job instead. I figured maybe my ability could still help with diagnostics if I was careful and could back my reports up with evidence. Tilt the needle more in the patient's favour, you know?"

"I sense a 'but' coming." Cyclops said what Gambit was thinking. Shadow blew a sigh out of her nose.

"Everything was fine for a while. Then, I'm three days into my annual leave and I get a call saying they're tacking three months of administrative leave onto the end of it." She ran a hand through her hair. "One of the techs got his thumb up his ass about me 'potentially' being a mutant. Overheard me talking to myself and thought it was good grounds to start shit."

"I presume this had nothing to do with your ability, since you can communicate with cells silently." Beast spoke, a claw tapping his chin in thought.

"No, nothing to do with my power. Sometimes I just talk to myself to help me think through a problem. Or just inanimate objects in general. It's just a thing I've always done since I was a child, nothing to do with being a mutant." She lifted a shoulder. "Maybe something I said in my ramblings could have been suspicious? But at the same time, how do you prove that I'm actually speaking to something to communicate, over just plain eccentricity?"

"People like those see mutants in every corner." Wolverine grunted. "Woulda only been a matter of time."

"Yeah, I guess so." Shadow agreed, briefly pulling her lips into a thin line. "So, yeah. Signed off work 'cos of some asshole, and now I potentially have a hate group gunning for me too." She rested her elbows on her knees, her forehead on her knuckles. "Deep joy."

"You have my deepest sympathies, Miss Shadow." Beast spoke, resting a massive hand delicately onto her shoulder. "But, if we may return to the subject of your current power and limitations?" She looked back up, nodding. "Thank you. I have reason to believe that whilst you have a good grasp on your powers right now, their greater depths are as of yet untapped. You should be able to refine them in multiple ways; offensively, defensively and as a general utility, both for yourself and others."

"I figured as much myself." Shadow said. "I've been able to exceed my body's normal limits temporarily by some subtle manipulations, but it's difficult to maintain due to the damage it causes. Such as lifting the control limts on my muscles - I could use them to their full potential to lift a car, but it requires focus first to lift the limits and keep them off, and then to endure and heal the damage suffered from such an act."

"That could improve with time and training." Beast replied. "As you well know, you wouldn't be able to heal as you do without practice, or be able to tune the sounds of hurt from others out."

"I am curious as to your current limitations of your healing." Xavier spoke, and Gambit felt the telepath's gaze on him. "You said you can only use it with skin-to-skin contact?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "I need it to be able to commune with another person's cells and form the connection into their body. It's like I have to move my consciousness into the person, and that's what takes the time. Of course, if the injury is in just one area, like the arm, it's quicker for me to connect with that area than it is to fully 'move' into another's body."

Gambit paused his card shuffling, interest piqued fully.

"Interesting. From what Gambit told me of what happens, it seems as if your body enters a trance - still alive and functioning, but your mind elsewhere."

"Yeah. I kinda...'lose' connection with my own body temporarily, especially if I fully 'move' into another's. But it's more a case that I don't notice what my body's feeling - not that I've actually moved inside the person."

"So if your body was to be hurt or the connection broken..." Beast mused.

"I'd be ripped back into myself." Shadow said, winding one of the drawstrings of her hoodie around her finger. "Had it happen a couple of times by accident, and it's always unpleasant. It takes me a couple of seconds to adapt to a person's body when I enter and then readapt to my own when I return - you can imagine that a jarring re-entry doesn't exactly make me feel very good."

"No, it doesn't." Xavier agreed. Gambit lifted an eyebrow. Getting forced out of someone's head must feel the same way for the Professor and Jean.

"What's it like, bein' under someone's skin?" It was Rogue who spoke this time.

"Loud." Shadow chuckled. "Bodies are a riot of noise, both from cells talking to one another to just the general sounds like the heart beating, breathing, all that." Her eyes became far away, flicking back and forth in thought. "It...is hard to explain. It's like I become someone else, but I'm not them. I'm...I'm like a house guest. I can listen to their music, move their furniture around and stuff like that, but it's not my house."

"Sounds 'bout right." Gambit chimed in. "Feels like dere someone under your skin wit you."

"Brrr," Rogue shivered. "Don't like the sound of that, sugah."

"Yeah, it a weird feelin' at first. But after a while you get used to it. It don't hurt, it just...uncomfortable. Least to begin with."

"That's pretty much how my ex described it." Shadow nodded. "Uncomfortable and weird, but not painful. I can understand why people wouldn't enjoy the experience, nor the thought of having someone with near free reign over the most precious thing to them."

"Near free reign?" Xavier asked, his brows furrowing. "You don't have full control?"

"No." Shadow shook her head. "Like I said, I'm a guest. I've not yet been forcibly evicted by someone on purpose, but they still have full control of their body whilst I'm inside them. Anything I do, the person could fight back against me."

"Did dat when Gambit felt his fingers move without him." The Cajun added. "Her grip strong, but not complete."

"With enough strength and contrary directions, a person can overpower me." Shadow said. "I mean, all it would take is for someone to sock me in the jaw and I'm flung straight out." She turned her head slightly, looking thoughtful. "I also...have rules."

"Rules?" Gambit's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Technically I have control over every cell in the body. That includes brain cells." A sudden tension tightened the air. "I don't think you need me to tell you what that means, even over the fact I can already technically puppeteer a person if I wanted to." Shadow slowly raised her gaze to the others, meeting their eyes and holding them firmly.

"I don't know what I can do in that regard, I don't want to know, and I never will know." She spoke firmly, with conviction. "It is my one unwritten master rule I follow above all others - I will never touch or interfere with another's cognition or will or anything to do with the brain. Partially because it is wrong, and partially because I'm shit scared about how badly I could fuck someone up if I make a mistake. Help someone suffering a stroke, sure - that's just a blood vessels, I know how they work. But I will never, never touch the brain tissue itself."

Gambit considered her, impressed both with the heated force behind her words, and the fact she'd shown her hand in this way. It would have been easy to lie by omission, and yet here she was, highlighting how much trust he'd laid into her hands. He'd essentially given himself to her like a patient gave themselves to a surgeon, and like that surgeon, she'd repaid his trust only by taking care of him. No more, no less.

"An admirable code to live by." Beast said softly. "Your own Hippocratic Oath."

"I try to follow that too." Shadow said. "'Do no harm'."

The doctor gave her a wry smile.

"The Hippocratic Oath is a little more lengthy than that, but the colloquial version will be more than enough for your needs, I think."

"Words don't give me much comfort, sweetheart." Wolverine growled. "We just have to trust that you won't mess with our heads?"

"You wouldn't need Shadow's help anyway." Gambit countered. "You heal jus' fine on ya own."

"That may be Cajun, but what about the others who need her help? What about you?"

"She looked after me well enough."

"You don't have to trust me." Shadow retorted, pulling herself up to her full height. "Like I said, I wouldn't be able to heal you anyway if the contact wasn't fully consensual. Besides," she gestured broadly. "the fuck am I gonna do? I'm useless unless my hands are on someone's skin! I don't even know how to fight! I have nothing to gain except a grave."

"We are getting ahead of ourselves." Xavier spoke with steely firmness, fixing Wolverine with a glare. "You are assuming that Shadow will even stay with us."

Wolverine grunted, folding his arms but offering no further objection.

"But Professor, that is your preference, isn't it?" Cyclops piped up. "For Shadow to stay whilst we investigate the Friends of Humanity member that attacked her?"

"It is my recommendation, yes." Xavier agreed, turning to the young woman. "If you stay, you can train and refine your powers, and perhaps learn some techniques to help keep yourself safe when you leave us in the future. This will not be a permanent placement, unless you wish it to be." His ice blue eyes shot another glare at Wolverine. "Regardless of current opinion."

"Still don't like it." Said mutant grumbled.

"Why is her powers differen' to what the Professor an' Jean can do?" Rogue asked, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. "They could do much worse, but we're fine with them! Ah, no offence, Professor."

"None taken, Rogue."

Wolverine growled in frustration, scowling.

"Fine. But if she stays, I'm keeping an eye on her."

"That's fair." Shadow nodded. "So long as you'll at least grant me that chance for a scrap with you if I do screw up, and you don't just off me whilst I'm sleeping."

"Thought you said you couldn't fight?"

"I can't." She smiled, holding her hands out. "I just prefer to be stabbed in the front, not the back."

Despite himself, a smile tugged on the corner of Wolverine's mouth, and also on Gambit's.

"Does that mean you've made a decision, Shadow?" Xavier asked.

"Yeah." She nodded. "I'll stay for a little while. Least 'til the heat dies down from those guys, and my job lets me back in."

"A fair agreement." Xavier smiled slightly. "There are some spare dorms for you to stay in, and we can help make arrangements to move some of your personal belongings here, if you wish."

"I'll go and sort that, Professor." Cyclops spoke, taking his leave.

"I'll let the others know we got a new guest." Rogue added, offering a smile to Shadow. "Welcome to the family, sugah."

"Now, to more prudent matters," Xavier began, "whilst you are our guest here, you will be expected to pick up your side of the tasks here, as well as train. This is a school, not a hotel."

"Wasn't expecting a free hand-out." Shadow replied, looking to Beast. "I'm happy to help as best I can, and I'll try to keep out from under your feet otherwise."

"I am certainly grateful for another pair of hands." The doctor grinned at her.

"Good." Xavier said, becoming thoughtful. "Did you say you were expecting to be on leave for three months?"

"Round about, yeah. I have one week of annual leave, then the admin leave starts." Shadow snorted. "Least I should be grateful they let me keep the holiday..."

"Alright. Then we will make the necessary arrangements to accommodate you." Xavier turned. "Please come with me, Shadow. We'll sort out the details in my office."

The young woman nodded, hopping off the medical cot to follow closely behind. Gambit watched her go, sharing a quick smile with her before his gaze became a little more intent than he expected; whilst Shadow's hoodie was baggy and hid much of her form, her jeans absolutely did not. He found his gaze wandering down her back to her hips and legs, lingering to watch her thighs flex under the denim-

Wolverine elbowed him in the ribs.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, Cajun." He grunted, a smirk playing on his gruff features. "She's not on the menu."

"Gambit can appreciate fine art without havin' to touch it, mon ami." He retorted, glaring. "'Sides, thought ya didn't like her."

"Hmph. Maybe she's not a threat. But still gonna keep an eye on her, just in case." Gambit folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look. You shouldn't be getting ideas either way; she'll be gone after those three months, anyway."

It turned out that Shadow would stay for much, much longer than that...

[pearl484-blog]

I like to balance my sentimonsters by giving them weaknesses for their physical traits and have a rule of one senti-monster/one power and only if they’re based on a Peacock or someone with sufficient magic. Futhermore, smaller senti-monsters are more skilled with magic and larger are more skilled with brute strength. 

Under this ruling, a sentimonster that is small and lightweight is likely to be fast and able to do magic more easily, but will be easy to launch. This is important as most parties involved are invincible, control over your movement along with your opponents’ is key. A heavy senti-monster will be physically stronger, but slower. 

A senti-monster who can shapeshift will always have the same mass, so if they shape-shift into something smaller, they’re a bit heavier and slower than their counterparts, but still workable. If they’re bigger though, they deform when touched with sufficient force and have their movements easier to control than their bigger counterparts. 

Gaseous senti-monsters cannot physically attack, but can move very quickly. Unfortunately, their movement can be as easily controlled as other gases. (Partial is prone to the same weaknesses, but their solid bits stay solid with as much advantage as that’ll give them. Other amorphus senti-monsters will only be able to attack with the amount of mass that’s being committed to the attack. 20 grams of matter may still pack a bit of a punch with superstrength, but it’s still only 20 grams. It’s laughable compared to it’s full body, which -depending on the viscosity of the monster (which affects its grappling ability) can be slow (very viscous with a strong grappling ability) or fast (thin like water with low grappling ability)- may have difficulty moving quickly.  

Why doesn't Felix just create one single, versatile senticompanion. With a good variety of powers, is capable of hiding/disguising (like...shapeshifting or having a 'civilian' form or something) and also being useful in a fight and maybe for espionage. Like... that's the logical thing to do. Aside from the writers being idiots ig

I mean why didn't Nathalie or Gabriel do that either.

But also.

With Felix, supposedly he doesn't want to use Sentimonsters as tools so.

[yeastussy]

i think it’s interesting how in the book, percy killing ms. dobbs is described as “the only thing that comes naturally” that being percy swinging the sword and turning her to dust, and him killing the minotaur is almost accidental, he snaps the horn off by ACCIDENT and happens to come up with it positioned to kill the beast and how that contributes to his feelings of inadequacy, whereas in the show so far, him killing ms. dobbs was a complete and total accident, and you can actually see some of the thought process in the show of him ripping the horn from the minotaurs skull and driving it through his brain. idk once you get down to it, it shows a very stark difference between this is something that is happening to me to this is something i am doing, my mother told me monsters are real and now one took her from me and what i can do is take it in return and i do think it’s also exemplifying this tonal shift that the show has taken by not having percy’s inner monologue to explain his thought process as events unfold, and also their stronger focus on relationships and building up camp life to an extent

[silver-horse]

bioware really said "let's release it on halloween... it's so terrible... it's gonna scare the shit out of everyone...the perfect halloween"