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sophieinwonderland · 1 month ago

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genuinely wondering, why do you—someone who does not claim to have DID, OSDD(1-4) or any other dissociative disorder—speak on them so much?

you claim you're a tulpa. whatever. i'm not trying to argue the validity of that. i just want to point out that what you are saying you experience is so emphatically different from a CDD, and yet you still speak on CDDs/the possibility of an endogenic CDD experience. why is that?

forgive me if i'm wrong in what labels you claim. i skimmed your recent feed & your pinned post & didn't do a deep dive—if you are claiming DID, feel free to ignore this ask. however: all i see is you, sophie, saying that you are a tulpa. and then speaking about dissociative disorders. does that not seem a little iffy to you?

you may be plural, sure. i'm not arguing that you believe you are experiencing plurality. but why are you—someone who isn't claiming to have DID or any other CDD—discussing disordered systemhood with the level of toxicity that you're using?

idk i'm just confused. what authority do you have to tell pwDID that they need to accept anything—when you are not a pwDID or a doctor?

Because if I don't, then who will?

Actually, that question has a pretty clear answer. That being people who are less informed.

I am not an expert. I do not claim to be or present myself as such. All I am is somebody who has an interest in plurality of all sorts, a blog, a pretty good handling on how to use a search engine to find the information I'm looking for, and the free time to read academic papers and share them with others.

I don't have a dissociative disorder. I can't tell you what it's like to experience one firsthand. At the same time, I have at least taught myself enough to see that a lot of what the CDD community passes around as scientific facts are closer to urban legends. Especially among fakeclaimers and those perpetuating pluralphobia.

If I learn something in my research that can help people with dissociative disorders, then I think that I have a responsibility to share it. Regardless of whether I have that disorder or not.

Take for example the popular myth that internal communication requires years of therapy and minors won't know if they have alters.

In my research, I found an article comparing voice hearing in schizophrenia versus dissociative identity disorder, and what that study showed was that a majority of DID systems experience voice hearing before the age of 18. They might not have recognized it as DID at the time. But the symptoms were present since childhood.

That same article also talked about how other hallucinatory experiences were actually more common in dissociative identity disorder than in schizophrenia.

Studies like these aren't common knowledge. But by spreading the results around, I was able to help dispel myths about dissociative identity disorder with an actual source. Myths that have been used to fakeclaim and hurt systems.

What if I hadn't posted that? What if I knew that the study existed but chose to remain silent about it because I don't have a dissociative disorder myself and decided that I shouldn't speak on it?

Would that have been preferable?

I don't think so.

If somebody is fakeclaimed and they have read that study, they can know that the fakeclaimers are wrong. That the fakeclaimers are spreading misinformation and lies. If I said nothing, then maybe they would believe the fakeclaimers, and when they encountered those lies, it would send them into a derealization spiral, causing them to question their own system.

That's something that would have been preventable had I chosen to speak out about what I knew.

Maybe I'm not a psychologist or a psychiatrist. But the actual psychologists and psychiatrists don't really have the time to be spreading correct information to the public because they are actually doing the research and helping patients directly.

And in the absence of actual psychologists and psychiatrists who could the spread correct and accurate information, we have armchair experts who have never read a single study in their life.

Or, in the case of dissociative-misinfo... Have read exactly one study in their life, which they use to fakeclaim systems and spread the myth of this vast number of people who are faking dissociative identity disorder. While also making just the most ridiculous claims, like saying that people with OSDD are not systems.

And in the absence of truth, more people will believe the lies and spread them.

Finally, you mentioned endogenic CDDs.

To me, this is as much about encouraging a culture of questioning as it is about the CDDs specifically.

Most doctors will never say it's impossible to have a CDD without having trauma. They will say that a CDD is heavily associated with trauma. They will say that it is virtually always caused by trauma. They will use a lot of words while acknowledging that they can't know for certain if this is caused by trauma 100% of the time. Because they can't know that. Because actual scientists are aware that there are limitations on what they can study and what they can prove.

Upwards of 90% of DID cases are associated with trauma.

That's a lot. That's more than most other disorders. And it is definitely possible that the remaining percentage are just cases where people have forgotten their trauma. That's absolutely a valid position.

At least... Until you start treating that as objective fact.

Sometimes in life, there just isn't going to be an answer where you know for certain. There is just no way to confirm for a fact that the cases of DID where trauma isn't reported is actually because the trauma is forgotten as opposed to not being there at all.

Science isn't religion. It's not dogma. And those that treat it as such are dangerous. Those who will hear a statement about how dissociative identity disorder is currently understood as a post-traumatic response and interpret that as saying that it is 100% scientifically impossible for somebody to have a dissociative disorder without trauma are of deep concern to me.

Not just because of how they view the science on dissociative disorders, but how they view science in general. If there's one thing that I think that people need to take away from this blog, it's that science is ever-changing. Our understanding of the world around us is going to be different in a decade than it is today.

When my host was a child, Pluto was a planet and velociraptors didn't have feathers.

You have to be open to the fact that nothing about our understanding of science is set in stone. This is a hill that I will gladly die on.

And I think it's equally important to think critically about how much of what we believe has actually been tested. Because some things scientists believe haven't been.

I mentioned the association between DID and trauma, but let me also mention that there are no similar studies with Partial DID. It's too new of a diagnosis. There have also been no studies into the trauma association of OSDD-1 without amnesia to see if the trauma association would be just as high as DID.

Without that critical research, it's possible that the association is primarily related to DID's amnesia symptom, and CDDs without amnesia wouldn't be as heavily associated with trauma.

It's currently an assumption that OSDD-1 without amnesia would be just as associated with trauma, but that assumption hasn't been tested.

And I think it's important to drive home that people need to be really careful about trusting assumptions like this when the studies haven't actually been conducted.

This is, again, not just about CDDs. It's about how we, as a culture, view science as a whole. It's about fostering open-mindedness rather than accepting our current understanding of things as dogma set in stone.

#syscourse #pro endogenic #pro endo #systempunk #syspunk #sysblr #multiplicity #science #psychology #psychiatry #systems #system #osdd #did #actually plural #actually a system

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theminecraftbee · 2 years ago

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i have one more silly bit of - well, okay. this is only sort of joe propaganda. this is a little bit me propaganda too. but for those new to the joe train, new followers who came here from other corners of joe fandom, or, indeed, people who want to read some fic as propaganda in order to sink into the true fandom experience:

hi! i write fic! i have written SEVERAL joe fic! here are some you can look at!

to convey a certain brilliance takes place in an alternate season eight where no one escapes before the moon hits, and joe must claw his way back to rebuilding enough to survive. inspired a bit by super hostile and actually written pre-season 8 finale, back when i thought they wouldn't actually PULL something like this. ah. more naive, good times.

god from the machine is a ficlet i wrote while joe was doing legends arceus stuff, taking place after the game and taking 'that's where joe was between seasons' as canon. god, sidenote? go watch joe's legend arceus streams. those were SUCH good streams. this has nothing to do with the fic just go watch those.

new moon is my inevitable moon's big feelings ficlet i wrote for joe and cleo. that's probably all you need to know.

beetroots is a character study ficlet people like where i have joe and grian have a conversation about the kinds of people they are. i still very much like it.

an empty head is a horror ficlet about what could have been happening while joe lived in cogsmede, given empires!false's memory potions. mind the fact there's a bit of intentionally talked-around, left-to-the-imagination gore in this one.

attempt thirty-three is my most recent proper fic, and it takes place during a slightly alternate 'pre-crossover' timeline where joe becomes trapped in a time loop. it's about a single loop during that time loop, and what joe does within it. i'm still quite proud of this premise and fic, it was an idea i'm glad i did fairly decent justice!

the last days of the free angel of carrows, finally, is a 79k 16-chapter noir-inspired urban fantasy in which joe and cleo together run a supernatural fixer/odd-job agency. when they're approached by pearl moon, a suspicious but extremely wealthy stranger, they take a job that the fate of the city ends up resting upon. if you like angel!joe, urban fantasy, action scenes, jleo friendship, or my usual standard for dumb jokes, this is an excellent longfic to read!

of course, you don't have to read any of these! there are a number of OTHER really good joe writers on ao3, and i encourage them to promo on this themselves! i'm just in a very joe mood and thought some people might also be, and decided to share!

#joehillssweep #a bee fic #...hope you don't mind i'm in the sweep tag this is TECHNICALLY propaganda #like if this fic helps propaganda anyone. i've SUCCEEDED #anyway i don't self-promo that often give me the moment

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raventhewolf9 · 29 days ago

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A list of all my nonhuman (and related) identities

I thought it would be good to have a list of this somewhere!! So here you go!!

General Nonhumanity

- Shapeshifting feline Description: a domestic cat that can transform into a jaguar-sized wildcat-like creature with a lynxlike face, fluffy gray and white rosetted fur, a long tail, slit pupils, feathered wings, long fangs, and a pair of small forehead horns (can also hybridize these forms; for example, can turn into a normal domestic cat but with wings) Origin: partially past life (see "Simon Tally OCkin" section), partially psychological

- Werecat Description: semi-bipedal (can stand and walk on two legs, but can go faster and has better balance on all fours), mostly feline in appearance, but with opposable thumbs; transforms on full moons; can infect others by biting them Origin: psychological

Fictionkin and Fictionkin-Adjacent

("adjacent" bc not all of these are fictionkin, some are just fictionkin-related)

- Simon Tally OCkin Description: One of the major characters of Hall of Miracles, a series based on Tally Hall and Miracle Musical. (More info- https://toyhou.se/25363960.simon) Origin: Past life (Partially responsible for my identity as a feline, as Simon is a cat)

- Sydney Sargent Fictionkin Description: The main character of Mayfield and Belov's podcast Camp Here & There. (NO SPOILERS PLEASE!!) Doubles and sourcemates are free to interact!! Just like, don't be weird about it. Elijah Volkov fictionkins please interact with caution-- The character himself kind of creeps me out, but I won't hold that against you for being a fictionkin of him, just please be gentle and don't be weird or anything when interacting. Also, this next part goes for everyone-- If Sydney is a character you like, or if you have/had a positive relationship with him in source, that does NOT mean I am automatically your friend. If we are meeting for the first time please treat me as any other person you don't know. Origin: Unsure

- Dipper Pines Sympath Description: One of the main characters of Alex Hirsch's television show Gravity Falls. Again, I'm not him (I used to identify as him, but only very briefly; I don't anymore) but I relate to him. Origin: N/A

Other / Misc

- Feline, snake, and rodent otherhearted Notes: Kind of funny that both felines and snakes eat rodents... But that doesn't change the fact that I feel a connection to all of them at once! It's probably a bit odd that a cat would feel a connection to rodents and not see them as prey, but I never said I was a normal cat.

- Cryptidkin Notes: I identify as a cryptid. I consider my winged-wildcat form and werecat form to be sort of urban legends. I also have a connection to Gef the Talking Mongoose (aka the Dalby Spook) but do not identify as him.

- Physically nonhuman / Nonhuman on all levels Notes: I've never been fully human, but after some stuff that happened in my past, what little humanity I had got flushed down the drain! So now I'm just a cat, through and through. Not human in any way. My physical nonhumanity is complicated; I recognize that I live in a human body (I don't think I'm delusional?), but I don't accept it or incorporate it into my identity, if that makes sense? Like yeah, I'm in this body, but it's not mine. I'm just stuck in it right now and can't access any of my true forms. Also, me being a werecat is actually the only part of my identity that's dependent on this body, weirdly enough. I only consider myself a werecat because I'm stuck in this body. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have a human form at all. But I am affected by the full moon, and I have a human form whether I like it or not, so I guess that makes me a werecat. Idk if the way I phrased this makes sense, but it makes sense in my head...

Anyway I think that's all o' them :3

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mythickind · 2 years ago

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First Call For Folklore

I make this sound so official, but really it's just me deciding I've spent enough time Not Finishing the Page™️ and I probably ought to actually ask folks for stories so maybe I'll get off my rump and finish the damn page. So! If YOU have any sort of folkloric stories about your kintype/theriotype/kithtype/linktype/whatever, please feel free to come share them!

What do I mean by folkloric stories? That's a term that tends to puzzle folks. Mainly that's because folks tend to equate words like "folklore" and "myth" with things that are made up or false. That isn't quite accurate. Folklore consists of many sorts of knowledge, but the ones we'll likely focus most on here are myths, legends, folktales, urban legends, folk music, and possibly art. In the academic field of folklore, a myth is defined as a sacred story. We're talking otherkin and therians primarily here, so that could be the story of how Raven stole the light and in doing so created the sun and the moon and the stars or it could be the story of Noah and the dove at the end of the Great Flood. These are both sacred stories that are considered true by those who follow their respective religions. That's what we mean when we say myth. A legend is a story that isn't considered sacred and that has elements of it that may seem larger than life. They're often supernatural or extraordinary in nature. A couple of examples would be Babe the big blue ox here in the US or the black dogs of the British Isles. As to folktales, fairytales, fables, these often involve magic, talking animals, and perhaps some sort of message. For exmaple, there is the frog prince, a fairytale in which a prince is cursed to become a frog, or the three blind mice. The three blind mice also feature in a folksong. These are songs that are just sort of part of a culture with no clear composer and sometimes no clear origin. One of my favorites is the Twa Corbies, a ballad about a conversation overheard between two crows, who were discussing eating the body of a freshly dead knight. It dates back to at least the 1700s.

Folkart is a bit less clear. This is really any type of traditional art - anything from basket weaving to bingata dyework - that is passed down within a culture. This, I don't expect will come up as much. It's a little less clearly defined for our purposes. Beyond that, there's also things like folkdance and traditional foodways and all manner of things. And if you know of anything that fits that bill, please absolutely feel free to share! With any of this, it doesn't necessarily have to be something that originates in a culture you're part of. However, I do ask that you approach all of this - especially mythology - with the same sort of respect and consideration you would give the lore you yourself grew up with and hold dear. All of this means something to the folks from whom it comes. So respect is paramount in folkloristics.

But now that I've nattered on about academia and things most folks probably don't even realize are things, I'm going to make sure that the asks and submissions are turned on. Feel free to leave these anonymously as well. But it would be awesome to hear from you all!

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spacevixenmusic · 2 years ago

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I for one would love to gear your shoujo recs 👀

Hell yeah, let's talk about shoujo anime instead of that other thing I posted earlier!

I'm only gonna list shows I've personally seen here, and I'm gonna skip most of the classics (except for the obvious one below), so your mileage may vary!

>>> Revolutionary Girl Utena

This is pretty much the pinnacle shoujo series to watch. Everyone who has seen it has something to say about it. Highly recommended for fans of Steven Universe, ballet, genderfuckery, rampant lesbianism, sword fights, and the ultimate in fucking around and finding out.

>>> Ah! My Goddess

Aww, I guess this is gonna spoil it, but I'm watching this one currently (posts to follow soon-ish)! A timeless rom-com classic about a goddess being roommates with Just Some Dude and learning to live life on earth as Heaven itself starts glitching out the longer she stays down there, causing all kinds of havoc in the lives of these otherwise mundane and melodramatic college kids!

>>> Princess Nine

Love sports anime but want one with a few more girls in it? Try Princess Nine: the baseball anime about nine girls gathering together to fight the forces of pig-headedness at their local school and demand to get funded as a legit baseball team! It's a great story about friendship and perseverance and all that fun stuff!

>>> Sugar Apple Fairy Tale (airing right now!)

In a world where fairies are captured and forced to work for greedy humans, a young sugar sculptor sets out to become a master of her craft in honor of her deceased mother. She "buys" a fairy and sets him free of captivity on the agreement that he accompany and protect her on the road to her destination. They eventually become friends (of a sort) and he becomes more of a knight in her service. Curious to see where this one goes!

>>> Otherside Picnic

An urban legend nerd and a gun-slinging beauty explore doorways between our world and a weird parallel dimension full of creepypasta spirits and glitches in the matrix in search of a missing friend. If you like supernatural-tinted sci-fi with some lovely gay overtones, you should really give this one a chance! One of my favorite underappreciated modern anime!

That's enough for now! Feel free to hit me up for more recs (in other genres too, if you like!) any time!

#anonymous #shoujo anime #anime recs

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estellamiraiauthor · 2 years ago

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The Stars May Rise and Fall: The Annotated Re-read (Chapter 1)

Hey there Tumblr, long time no see! Let’s try something fun and new!

So, a few years ago, when The Stars May Rise and Fall was first published, I tried to do an “annotated copy” as a giveaway—i.e. a paperback with all my little “making of” notes in the margins. That lasted… about three pages, before I gave up on writing legibly enough for anyone else to read AND on cramming everything I wanted to say literally between the lines.

But I still really do like the IDEA of a sort of on-screen commentary, and it’s feeling like about time for a re-read anyway. (Yes, I read my own book. Why write the book you want to read if you’re not going to actually read it, amirite?) So… why not do it here?

Feel free to read along, if you like. If you haven’t read The Stars May Rise and Fall yet but are just generally interested in Phantom retellings or whatnot, this first one won’t spoil anything you can’t get in the “Look inside” preview on Amazon, although future ones might. So grab a copy and join me?

Regret is a pretty strong word, and not one I’m sure I want to use at all about this book, which is very much the book of my heart, the book I wrote because I wanted to read it and it didn’t exist. But if I regret anything about it, it’s that I decided to make the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical the first version of Phantom I paid homage to. Now, I definitely don’t regret including the ALW Phantom in the MANY versions I ultimately ended up giving little nods too. Like a lot of angsty kids in the 90s, it was the version that really got me interested in seeking out others, after all. But seeing reviews (and before that, rejections from literary agents) saying that they stopped reading after two or three chapters because “it followed the ALW musical too closely”… maybe I should have modelled the opening scenes after a different version, or just done something entirely new.

Still, it is what it is. And back in 2004 or whenever it was when I first had the idea for a visual kei Phantom retelling, I didn’t really consider opening with any other format than the tried and true “Phantom character hears Christine character singing, reaches out through the mirror to offer help” kind of formula.

A lot of it was also shaped by the venue itself. While “Rock Eden”, the live house where Teru and his band most often perform, doesn’t exist by that name, it’s basically Meguro Rock Maykan—which is a real venue, that at the time looked the way it’s described in the book and is still in the same location. And I knew from the start that that was where I wanted to set my Phantom. While most live houses are standing room only, or might have a few bar stools at the back, Rock Maykan apparently used to be an adult theater (it was certainly SOME kind of movie theater; the adult part could be an urban legend), and as of 2000, when the book is set, had these old-fashioned theatre seats (which have since been removed) and a balcony that’s off-limits to ticket holders but could be accessed by venue staff and anyone with a backstage pass. I’ve also been backstage there, and the dressing room is (or was at the time), practically wallpapered with old backstage passes and graffiti… perfect for a story that so deeply involves the ghosts of both people and dreams.

So, the mirror was that backstage mirror, and “Box Five” was going to be that balcony. Because of course no one has private dressing rooms in tiny little hole-in-the-wall venues like this, I couldn’t have Rei, my Phantom, talking to Teru directly through the mirror, but I wanted that basic formula for the opening… for better or worse. Sorry, one-star Amazon reviewer?

One of the things I always kind of imagined people would ask me once the book was a big hit (haha!) was how, exactly, Rei heard Teru singing and managed to contact him. At one point, I had written part of that scene in Rei’s point of view as well, but ended up dropping that point of view entirely (again, to the chagrin of several reviewers). Maybe someday I’ll be famous enough to get to do a Midnight Sun from his POV? XD

Anyway, if you’re interested. Teru has a backstage pass that gets him into the dressing room (and the balcony, if he wants, but he doesn’t have any reason to want to go up there until later). But Rei has access to EVERYTHING, including places where only the venue staff would be able to go, thanks to Chizuru, his assistant-slash-former hair and makeup artist, who now works part-time at Rock Eden. This is never really laid out on the page, but my sort of headcanon is that the owner/manager (who also never appears on-page) is one of the few people in the industry who knows that Rei survived the accident that disfigured him, and that Chizuru basically got the job (despite having income from elsewhere) so that she could secure access for Rei so that he could continue to scout talent. Now, I don’t ACTUALLY know what the venue-staff-only areas look like (I’ve been backstage, but as a staff member for a band, not the venue itself)… but that’s at Rock Maykan. This is Rock Eden, the fictional version, so we can go ahead and assume that there’s some kind of back hallway that can’t be accessed from the dressing room, but is separated from it by a thin wall, and that Rei heard Teru singing and talking to his bandmates from there.

These shows also used to have flyers for each band. (I’m not sure if they still do; musicals and things have definitely cut back on the amount of paper they pass out.) Fans would receive a pack of flyers when they entered the venue, and Chizuru, as staff, could easily take a pack from the pile. So Rei hears Teru singing to himself, thinks he’s got the right voice for his music, and then Yasu comes in, and they start talking. At some point, someone uses Teru’s name, and Rei asks Chizuru to get him a pack of flyers, which he uses to figure out which band Teru is in. There’s only one Teru playing that night, so he’s able to use the flyers to figure out that Teru is the drummer from La Rose Verboten, so he knows who Teru is when he comes onstage, despite having only heard his voice before.

And I think he kinda falls in love right there. He doesn’t WANT to… ohhh, there are SO many reasons he doesn’t want to, and he doesn’t dare to think that there’s any chance that ANYONE would ever love him back, but somewhere, buried deep under a lot of trauma and denial, he sees Teru onstage—and Teru LOVES being onstage, he loves music and it absolutely shines through—and Rei, despite himself, wants to talk to him.

I think there’s a lot of internal warring with himself over the course of Teru’s set, which would be maybe 20 minutes long. Rei knows he shouldn’t, it’s SUCH a bad idea to reach out to this guy who’s got this beautiful voice but also is just So Gorgeous… but he has to. And he has these business cards, because this was before you could just wave your phones at each other to exchange contact information and that was how you’d make connections, so he sucks up his fear and writes a note, and gives it to Chizuru before he can lose his nerve.

And Chizuru knew where to drop it because all of these bands are using the same dressing room, and a lot of them would have the same or similar equipment, so they write their names on electrical tape and stick it to their stuff, so she found the equipment that said Teru and La Rose Verboten and was able to leave it where he would find it. In case anyone was wondering.

The actual structure of the chapter itself… I’m still not sure if I love it. This opening was ROUGH for me to write, partially BECAUSE I knew that I was opening with kind of a cliché scene and needed to make it enough of a “hook” to make people want to read beyond that. There were literally maybe about 50 versions of it over the years, and I ended up with the current version, where the whole “hearing the beautiful voice through the mirror” thing has already happened and is being recounted as a memory in past-perfect, and the “present” of the story is Teru later that night, back in his apartment, going through the same kind of internal battle over whether he’s actually going to call this mystery number.

Of course, he does, and I think this kind of mirrors what Rei must have gone through earlier (so, maybe I should’ve kept that POV?). He KNOWS it can’t possibly be an actual talent scout or record producer… but Teru and Rei both, despite being pessimistic over a lot of things, always have a little spark of optimism buried somewhere in there, too. So he calls. And he falls in love just a little with Rei’s voice too, although he also buries that deep because he’s so firmly in denial about his sexuality at this point.

This is another point I get a LOT of flack about—how unrealistic it is that Teru would just agree to go to this guy’s apartment when they don’t know each other at all. And all I can say about that is… I definitely did similar things when I was Teru’s age (21). Was it the safest thing to do? Nope. Would I want my kids doing the same thing? Hell no, absolutely not. But do 21-year-olds do stupid things sometimes? You bet! So, yes, I have gone to the tiny Tokyo apartments of people I didn’t know very well. Including men. Including older men. And I was fine, not because that was a good decision—again, it is MOST EMPHATICALLY NOT—but because I was lucky. Like a lot of the people who do a few stupid things in their youth are.

As far as whether this fictitious character in a work of fiction is supposed to be a role model or whatever—it’s a novel for adults, about some pretty complicated and dark and occasionally messed-up stuff. (See also Rei’s struggle to accept his disabilities… is it the Best Possible Reaction™️ to the situation? Absolutely not. But you can’t say it’s not a reaction that a human being could feasibly have.) I think it’s pretty clear that I did NOT intend this to be some kind of morality lesson on how to have the perfect relationship and love yourself in the process. I understand that some readers want every bad decision to have negative consequences… in the case of Rei, I think a lot of the self-destructive behavior eventually does. But yeah, Teru does something stupid and dangerous and doesn’t suffer because of it… and that happens to real people too, every day.

I honestly think a big part of it, too, was my terrible-in-hindsight decision to list this as LGBT+ romance on Amazon. It’s a love story. It’s not a genre romance novel. These characters weren’t written to be “romantic heroes” and in the end, I do wish I had just listed it as general fiction, because I think I inadvertently set up certain stylistic, character, and plot expectations that the story was never intended to meet.

So. The beginning. I don’t really love it. But it’s certainly a hell of a lot better than the very very first draft from 2005, which was basically a shitty songfic of X Japan’s “Unfinished.” :P

#the stars may rise and fall #annotated #writing #writing process

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froggierboy · 2 years ago

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Horror movie recs?

ohoohooho please don't regret asking, i'm gonna toss out some i really like in no particular order okay. but feel free to ask me to expand on any of these or why i like them or whatever, i like to talk about this

jordan peele's entire filmography but particularly us because it's the only horror movie to ever make me cry in the theater. the whole child's play series. scream. killer klowns from outer space. midsommar (not so much hereditary, although toni collette acted her ass off in it). eraserhead. skinamarink. mother! (controversial pick but i watched it at midnight in a strange house during a thunderstorm which is sort of the peak condition for any horror movie tbh). it (1990 and 2017 for different reasons). the first saw because it's genuinely good, the rest for the vibes. cronenberg's the fly. misery. urban legend for scaring me shitless when i was 12 and being the reason i still check under the car and in the closet. the lost boys bc it's fun and sexy. the boy for genuinely surprising me. brahms: the boy ii for fun. creep and creep 2 (and know that i hate found footage and i still loved these). fresh. house on haunted hill (the original not the remake). insidious (genuinely lives up to the hype). house of 1000 corpses. hell fest. the entire nightmare on elm street series but especially the original

and the honorable mention of pan's labyrinth because it's a must watch but i dont consider it a horror movie but it's always filed under horror so i guess everyone else does.

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stxleslyds · 3 years ago

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NIGHTWING #81

UMM... HOW ABOUT NO.

Ever since Tom Taylor took over Nightwing I have only made a post about one issue of his (I will leave it here Nightwing #78), that issue was beautiful, it was a solid start and the little things that made me feel a bit icky were not mentioned in the post because the issue was good.

Then the issues felt like connectors or just very bland story wise. I had problems with the book also feeling like a Nightwing and (fake) Oracle book instead of just Nightwing. There were many instances where Dick alone could have gotten himself out of situations without Barbara, but because she was there the opportunity to show that he can do things was taken from him. I guess what I am trying to say is that the book has disappointed me but I didn’t feel like making a post because it was too early and this is an ongoing book that Taylor said he planned on continuing for a while, but now I can’t not make a post.

A few days ago, I finally read the Red Hood story in Urban Legends (I have a review for that one too I will link it here Red Hood part 4) and I couldn’t stand how OOC and disappointing the story/characterization has been. I am saying this because I am only reading these two books at the moment, ONLY these two, and all I have gotten from them is shit.

I know it’s still early to say that the Nightwing book is bad but…I hated this issue, I hated it with all of my heart. But now that I am a bit calmer, I have come up with some ideas of what is truly going on with the Melinda situation.

Anyway, let me give you my thoughts.

There are big Wilson Fisk vibes coming from both Blockbuster and Melinda Zucco. Those two will lie, manipulate and be evil every chance they get. They are working together to make Nightwing disappear. I know it. The whole “make us all much wealthier and to extend your power beyond the city” idea does not include Nightwing.

Melinda might not want to burn anything down but she sure isn’t a hero. This woman accepted the position of Mayor after watching Blockbuster kill the former mayor. I understand that talking with the BHPD isn’t the best idea but this woman feels way too comfortable in the presence of a killer.

She is cunning and she has plans, I strongly believe that she might be a villain and that she will betray Blockbuster and take all the power (if it reaches that point) to herself.

Heartless is just another weirdo, he tricks both Nightwing and the reader into thinking that he has a soft spot for kids but surprise! He doesn’t. There isn’t much to say about him, he just has very complex gadgets and doesn’t know how to fight. I don’t even have any ideas about who he might be.

What I know though is that there was absolutely no need for Dick to think that he had “underestimated” Heartless, my love you threw your stick at him while he was looking directly at you, there was a 50/50 chance of him catching it. I swear I don’t understand the need to write him thinking that mostly because Taylor then has Dick swiping the floor with the guy, not only is it a simple fight (for Dick) but it’s also boring for him. Taylor’s writing is so annoying sometimes, he just loves to write extra things that are out of place like the “Tim Drake. Thought of by many as the best Robin” why the fuck did he put that there? Honestly, what was the point of having Dick say that, I don’t read a Nightwing book to have Tim Drake praise. If it doesn’t offer anything to the story that is being told then keep the thought to yourself Tom...

Moving forward the scene in the pier was quite nice, mostly because it’s Dick’s quick thinking that gets everyone to safety, he knows exactly what to do and how to contact the Maritime distress channel.

He has hope for his city, he knows there is good in it and he believes help will show up when lives are about to be lost. I loved that, just like Heartless said, Nightwing IS Bludhaven’s Guardian Angel. Once again, I am having Daredevil vibes from Dick (like from the show)

After the fight we get to see consequences of Dick not healing properly from a shot to the head. He loses his consciousness which is extremely dangerous but luckily Tim is at arm’s reach to help him out of the pier.

There are many things I want to talk about from the scenes that happen after Dick wakes up in his apartment so here we go.

First of all, Bitewing is adorable, she loves Dick the most and was happy to see him awake once more, what a good girl!

Secondly, Barbara, honey, you do not have three names, you aren’t Batgirl anymore, you are a grown woman that needs to move on from a mantle that has other people that can do something else/better with it. And we all know that this Oracle is just the ableist version of Oracle. So yeah…all I ask is for Barbara to move on from Batgirl, Cass and Stephanie are right there, enough is enough.

In these panels we have Dick, Tim and Barbara being kinda dismissive about the homeless kids, and it has been happening for so many issues, what is the point, Taylor? You made Dick a millionaire and you just can’t have him say or think for a second that he will monetarily help those kids and make sure they are put somewhere safe? You are really going to wait up until you have Dick running for Mayor or something to help the kids? I just don’t get it. Kids living on the streets and each time they are mentioned the three heroes of the book act like it’s normal and doesn’t need fixing. What the fuck.

Then we have the gang finding out that Melinda Zucco is the new mayor, the woman has an FBI file and a redacted one! This makes me think two things, either things are like I thought in the beginning of the post (she is evil and very good at it) or this woman is actually FBI and she is undercover (this one is less likely because of what happens at the end of the issue).

What we can see from the file that Barbara found is very little, but in these two pictures we can see that maybe she was put in foster care and x age? Also, she was apparently investigated in April of 20xx, the investigation must have been recent, why would the FBI investigate a minor or college student? What if these files were implanted by Melinda for someone to find them, and for her to have some sort of proof of her lies? If the file is about her being left in foster care or something while would the file be redacted? I don’t know, everything about her is shady and I don’t trust anything from or about her.

This could be a complex and very interesting character but Tom Taylor and DC really love to do stupid shit for shock value (more of this later).

All the new information (the Maroni, Blockbuster and now this very shady Mayor) has Dick saying that it is a bit too much for him and yeah, it is too much, you know who could help? Red Hood. I am of course not talking about current DC comics Red Hood, I am talking about the Red Hood that I would love to see, just yesterday I had an ask about who would I like to see working with Jason and I said Nightwing because Dick puts a lot of responsibility on his shoulders so it would be nice if they negotiated and each could work on different crime areas in Bludhaven, if only DC would hear me…

Anyway, now that we come to the end of the scene let’s talk about Barbara’s shirt.

That was unnecessary and not funny. That’s all it was. Yeah, I know it’s a meme and I know it was included for funny ha-ha purposes but I am not laughing. Bruce has been written as abusive towards his kids for so long, Jason, Tim and Dick have been physically harmed by Bruce and writers use it as just something that happens, there are never repercussions for the Bat. And this shirt sucks because Dick was Robin there and he was a kid, so having Barbara or anyone wearing a shirt with Batman hitting Robin!Dick right in front of Dick is just disgusting. What if someone wore a shirt that had Joker beating Jason with a crowbar in front of Jason, would that be a funny ha-ha too? What about Dick wearing a shirt with the Joker shooting Barbara, is that a funny ha-ha? The answer to those questions is no, it’s not funny.

The idea of that shirt shouldn’t have been pitched, drawn or included after the editor took a look at it.

The picture is a meme in our world, not in theirs. And the readers aren’t laughing.

Back to the issue, Dick is left alone in his apartment to rest (seriously? You think the man that showed up to help Bruce in Gotham with a knee brace is going to rest?) but he can’t, he just found out that Mayor Zucco might be trouble for Bludhaven and might be working with not only Blockbuster but the Maroni family. He is not waiting one more second to have a chat with her.

Dick is obviously still concussed so of course he grabs a mask that has a camera that Oracle can view, and of course he enters yet another window without being careful.

Melinda and Audre were obviously waiting for him.

But here is where the real bullshit begins. Dick is unmasked.

I am so mad; it’s been four issues and Dick gets his ass in a trap and is unmasked by a villain? Are you kidding me right now?

But that’s not all, after Dick breaks free and accuses Melinda of being the daughter of the man that killed his parents, she pulls out a uno reverse card and says that her actual father is John Grayson, and that she is his sister.

How about no. Absolutely not. Go away.

Let’s re-visit Melinda’s appearances in the book so far so we can start theorizing about her real intentions or if she could be saying the truth.

Back in issue #78 where she is first introduced to us, after Melinda watches Blockbuster kill the mayor, she goes home and tells her Audre that she is now mayor because Blockbuster did what he does, so she knows that this guy is trash and a killer. But that’s not all, Audre asks her if she came across Dick Grayson to which Melinda answers “I am not ready for him yet”. Audre suggests she talks to him sooner rather than later because she might not have “another chance”, and the issue ends with Melinda agreeing with her while she is looking at a Flying Graysons poster with a red circle framing Dick’s face.

That whole thing? Shady. Melinda, obviously, wanted to talk to Dick Grayson, probably to tell him that she is his sister, but why is there a time limit, why is Audre telling Melinda that she can’t wait too long? Is it because her undercover work is ending soon? Is it because it’s not real at all and she needs to tell that lie in order to move forward with some sort of plan? I don’t know…

In issue #79 Melinda (and Audre) are out in the open with Maroni and they are talking about her becoming the next Mayor, Nightwing was watching from afar so this is his first contact with her. And it might be the first time that Melinda and her friend see Nightwing in action too. I cannot tell if she is aware that Nightwing/Dick Grayson are the same person here.

In #80 she doesn’t make an appearance.

But now in #81 she is taking her place as Mayor of Bludhaven, there Commissioner McClean takes her somewhere she didn’t expect to go (she is shown not knowing that Maroni and Blockbuster were in the next room over). Once in the room she refuses to take the cash from McClean but she will take the money as a transaction (for a second I thought she wouldn’t take the money but she did because she is very corrupt) and talks to Maroni once more. Before I talk about what happens with Blockbuster let me say this, she acts so distant to Maroni, she calls him Mr. Maroni every single time and she comes off as cold and feeling no type of way while talking with someone that is part of the family that actually raised her, and this is not because she is in a room full of other people, she did it too in #79. It seems weird that she acts that way with someone that took her under his wing since she was eight years old.

When she sits with Blockbuster he says “tell us your plan for my city” to which she says all of this: “My plan, Blockbuster, is to make us all much wealthier and to extend your power beyond the city. But to do so in a way that builds on the good work you’ve already done I have no interest in burning anything down.”

At the start of the post I said she gave me big Wilson Fisk vibes and that right there is why. She is shady, she has plans on top of plans, she calls Roland Desmond Blockbuster to his face but says that he has done good work for Bludhaven, which is weird because Blockbuster destroys Bludhaven a couple of times a year…

As I said before whatever she has planned does not include Nightwing, and here is where I kinda start theorizing a bit more, what if Blockbuster told Melinda Nightwing’s real name, he used to know who he was once upon a time…

Later in this issue when Nightwing is going to Melinda’s place Audre is already waiting for him right next to the window (with a sword), so, was he making an insane amount of noise or were they told to be ready for him?

Melinda traps him and takes his mask off, she barely seems surprised about Nightwing being Dick, she barely reacts when he jumps at her. She is in complete control of the situation and proves that by disarming Dick, as fast as he accuses her of being Zucco’s daughter she tells him that her real father is John Grayson.

She is in complete control. She has to be lying, she put a stop to whatever Dick had to say and do in seconds. This woman is trained and she is manipulative as fuck!

And if she isn’t lying then fuck DC and fuck Tom Taylor, this woman is either younger or the same age as Dick, John Grayson was not a cheater, the man is dead, has been dead for so long, don’t throw dirt on his name at this point. I refuse to believe this is true.

I honestly think that she is evil, and knows more than we are aware of, her first appearance was shady as fuck, let's suppose that she didn’t truly know that Dick was Nightwing, why on earth did she have a Flying Graysons poster with a red circle on top of Dick’s face? That doesn’t seem like something a sister would do! And why would this be information that is so important that she NEEDS to tell him in a certain amount of time?

It’s fucking insane. Tom Taylor, if she is actually Dick's sister then shame on you. Disgusting, what is with writers and cheating, what the hell is going on? Dick doesn’t need to think back to his parents and see a cheater in one of them. This better be Melinda being a cruel and vile human being that is trying to emotionally hurt Dick/Nightwing so she and Blockbuster can do whatever its they want to do.

That’s all I have to say.

#dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing 81 #dc comics #dc infinite frontier #melinda zucco #nightwing and bitewing #bitewing #blockbuster

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jaxsteamblog · 4 years ago

Text

Bending Practice

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Katara sat in her office after breakfast, sorting through all of the correspondence that had flooded in for Thuy. It always surprised her how much obvious bribery went on and, as she sliced open a letter, she watched dispassionately as an ornate broach fell from the packet. Both broach and letter went into the donation pile, and Katara frowned at the growing number of thank you cards she was going to have to write with thinly veiled reproach.

Before she could even make a dent, Zuko knocked lightly at the door. The others had gone out to watch Thuy at her earthbending practice.

“Come in.” Katara called from behind her desk, reaching for another letter.

“How’s it going?” Zuko asked.

“About the usual.” She replied.

Zuko put his hands on the desk, leaning over it so he could kiss her. She relished the soft pressure of his lips against hers and the brief scent of shampoo when his hair slid forward.

“Want to go see Thuy?” He asked, still leaning toward her. Katara, angled forward herself, smiled and watched his mouth.

“I really should get through all this.” She said.

“But then how can I show off in front of my fiancee?” Zuko asked.

Katara kissed him again and then rose from her seat.

“Alright.” She said. “Let’s go.”

Large nets surrounded the training grounds, in anticipation of future inexperienced Avatars. Rohan and Ty Lee were outside of the nets, sitting on one of the few benches at the perimeter. Zuko, still feeling some sort of way about his sister’s friend, sat next to Rohan. Katara wandered closer to the next, watching Thuy and Toph spar.

“Welcome to the cage match!” Rohan said and Katara snorted.

“It does look a little bit like Toph’s arena.” She said, not turning around.

“Could you imagine what other element arenas would look like?” Rohan asked.

Katara tilted her head, thinking.

“I mean, we all know what an Agni Kai is.” Zuko replied dryly.

“Okay, we’re not talking duels, but actual, like, bouts.” Rohan countered.

“I don’t think anyone dies at pro bending.” Ty Lee added.

“I think it’d all be the same concept right? Like trying to knock the other person out of the ring. But maybe with more obstacles.” Katara said, finally turning.

“I like that idea actually.” Ty Lee said.

“What if you had to face off against a bender of another element?” Rohan asked.

“Well, then it’s not really a show of skill at all. The forms are different.” Zuko countered.

“Sure, but it’s like that one trading card game. You know, it was super popular with kids a decade ago. Aw nuts, I’m blanking on the name.” Rohan snapped their fingers, looking at Ty Lee.

“I know what you’re talking about. The one with the energy rat.” Zuko said.

“That’s it!” Rohan clapped their hands and turned back to Zuko. “So Thuy is going to have a hard time with airbending because it’s the most unlike her birth style. Earth is mildly frustrating, but fire should be a piece of cake.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Zuko replied dryly.

“I’ve seen you move, you’re like a secret Waterbender.” Rohan stated.

“That’s not usual Rohan.” Ty Lee said.

Rohan looked at her, confused. “No?”

Ty Lee shook her head and they turned back to Zuko.

“I knew we rubbed off on you, but I didn’t think it was that much.” They said.

“My uncle taught me other forms. He said it would make me more balanced.” Zuko said.

“And? Are you balanced?” Katara asked.

“Want to see?” Zuko asked, sounding coy. The energy shifted and Katara felt her face warm.

“Yeah, let’s go, you and me.” She said, putting more confidence in her voice to cover how he had turned her spine into jelly.

Zuko stood and started to unbutton his shirt as he walked to the fencing.

“Hey Beifong!” He called.

The clattering earth stopped and Zuko waited, still carefully removing his shirt.

“Her feet are fine Lord Bunsen Burner!” Toph yelled back.

“I was more wondering if you’d let us use the field.” Zuko said. He fully removed his shirt, folding it over his arm. His undershirt was tight and Katara, aware of the audience, forced herself not to stare.

Thuy and Toph conferred for a moment.

“Why?” Toph asked.

“Sparring match.”

“With Wet Wipe?”

“With Katara.”

“WITH MASTER KATARA?” Thuy shouted.

“Ditches and pits girl, lower your voice!” Toph snapped.

“Sorry Sifu.” Thuy replied.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’d like a chance to witness what it is you keep going on about.” Toph said, starting toward the door of the fencing. “Find out if all of Ty Lee’s hard work is for a purpose.”

Zuko tossed his shirt over an empty bench as he and Katara walked to meet them. Thuy was nearly bouncing in excitement when they met at the door.

“Water?” Toph asked, sounding more like a prompt.

“I’m fine Sifu.” Thuy chirped.

“No, I meant go and get your Master some water to work with, you walnut.” Toph retorted.

“Oh!” Thuy looked alarmed and then darted off.

“You don’t have to be so hard on her.” Katara said.

“Why not? Everyone else is falling over themselves to kiss her backside.” Toph replied, shoving Katara lightly to the side.

Zuko and Katara went into the caged field. Pausing to kiss her cheek, Zuko was quiet as he jogged to the middle and started stretching. He was clearly taking this seriously.

Thuy returned to the door of the fencing carrying two large and battered buckets filled with water. Katara wondered where on earth she had even found those.

“Thank you Thuy.” Katara said.

“Of course Auntie!” Thuy replied cheerfully and darted away before Katara could reprimand her.

“Ready?” Zuko asked as Katara walked over.

“Let’s go.” She said, dropping the buckets.

The moment the metal bottoms hit the ground, Katara pulled the water up around her. The force of it actually kept the buckets momentarily suspended, but fell with a dull clatter.

Thinking back to their late night talk, Katara couldn’t help the wry smile as she watched him take a more traditional Firebender stance.

Firebending always seemed more like fencing to her, and Katara pulled her water around Zuko’s sides playfully, testing his open sides. He was fast, though, and get under her attacks before she could refocus. He was taking it far too seriously.

Very quickly, they fell into step. Remembering their dance at her coronation, Katara smiled freely as they stepped in close. Zuko would feint and flicker, but Katara was patient. In a one on one battle, fire was meant to injure, so Zuko had little in the way of movement to test her. On the other hand, Katara was used to larger fights with multiple assailants, so finding a way to fine tune her approach took time. They danced together, testing for weaknesses and vulnerabilities. As they got in close, Zuko winked at her, and Katara faltered on her heel.

“I’ve seen musk sloths move faster than you!” Toph yelled.

“You can’t see at all!” Katara yelled back.

“Yeah but I can and this is BORING.” Rohan added.

A gust blew them back, with Katara immediately pulling a frozen shield across herself and Zuko.

“A new challenger approaches!” Rohan stated, standing in front of them.

“Shall we?” Zuko asked, holding out his hand.

Zuko relaxed and Katara found herself relying on his style in order to free her movements. Rohan seemed more interested in dodging, which was easier since they weren’t bound by any physical need to stay on the ground.

And it was all fun and games, until the Earthbender attacked.

Toph jumped in, deciding that a sparring match had to actually involve sparring. When Rohan still wouldn’t get pinned down, Toph decided to change the game.

Avatar versus the four nations.

Thuy, having not even started Firebending or Airbending, was summarily chased around the fenced field. Katara, feeling for her bending kin, took her side, while Zuko ran interference.

Knowing she wasn’t getting anywhere, Toph called it and yanked Rohan out of the air after they made the mistake of bumping into one of the protruding earth columns. The two of them then called over Thuy, and they started planning something.

Zuko avoided the benches, and instead sat down against the fence as he watched the others. Katara groaned as she fell next to him, leaning against his shoulder. They were both sweating and smelled like dirt, both wet and charred.

Throwing his arm over her shoulder, Zuko pulled her close and kissed her hair quickly. Hating the warmth of his skin against hers, Katara still relaxed against him, not wanting to move.

“I am going to be so sore.” He said.

“I can fix that.” Katara said.

“Look at them, disgusting.” Zuko said, jokingly.

Still, Katara looked at the trio in confusion.

“What?” She asked.

“This is all they have to do. No leaving to run a country, just playing tag with the Avatar.”

“Oh, that.” Katara remarked. “Yeah, that does suck.”

“Doesn’t it?” Zuko rubbed her arm, but his fingers pressed into her skin in a familiar way.

“We can’t.” She whispered.

“Can’t…?” Zuko turned to her and, upon seeing her face, blushed deeply.

“Ah.” He added and cleared his throat. “Right.”

“I swear, every time you practice, you get like this.” Katara said, laughing.

Still blushing, Zuko smiled and kept his gaze averted.

“My blood’s hot, what can I say?” He replied.

“That’s not where your bending comes from.” Katara countered. “It’s more here.”

She pressed the tips of her fingers against his abdomen and Zuko held her hand, pressing it against his chest.

“And yours?” Zuko asked softly, leaning toward her.

“Would you two please get a room?” Toph shouted. “I can feel your weird vibes from here!”

“I’m pretty sure Zuko’s gonna spontaneously combust if he has to wait much longer.” Rohan said.

“Does that happen?” Thuy gasped.

“According to some urban legends, yeah.” Ty Lee answered, moving to the fence to get closer.

“Could that happen to me? I’m going to be a Firebender too.” Thuy asked.

Zuko grumbled as he stood up, but Katara snorted.

“I don’t know, who are you dating, young lady?” Rohan asked.

“There’s a guy that keeps hanging around my school. I guess I know why now.” Toph said.

“Sifu!” Thuy shouted.

Zuko held out his hand and Katara took it, standing as he pulled her up.

“I need a shower.” He said.

“We both do.” Katara replied.

“Oh come on!” Toph yelled. “Just leave already!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Zuko said, giving Katara’s hand a firm squeeze.

“They’ll probably be distracted for awhile.” Ty Lee said, as the pair came through the door. “It looks like Rohan is drawing diagrams in the dirt.”

“Hmm.” Zuko grunted, not looking at Ty Lee.

“Just make sure Thuy gets her acupuncture and I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Katara said lightly.

Ty Lee patted the pouch clipped to her belt and Katara smiled. Then Zuko yanked her away, heading purposefully back to the house.

“Zuko? Your shirt?” She asked.

“I’ve got plenty.” Zuko said shortly.

“We don’t have to rush.”

“You owe me some healing.” Zuko said and glanced over his shoulder. His gold eyes glinted and the edge of his gaze was a razor in her lungs.

She wondered if she would ever get used to him like this.

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#zutara month #zutara month 2021 #zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #modern au #the fic that prompts built

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shadow-scenarios · 4 years ago

Note

Hello~ may I ask for something slightly specific? I wanted to ask about a scenario in which the reader recently obtains the Meta-Nav but instead of the PT finding out first, Goro does. See, the reader and Goro have recently become acquaintances and reader thinks that the Meta-Nav is something related to illegal activity so she goes to consult their detective friend on this mysterious app! Haha, sorry if this is too specific ;-;

Hey there simulationone, this isn’t too specific!! I like creative ideas that change the plot & this has been my favourite request to write so far.

However, I did change the request slightly. I made it so that the Reader awakened to their Persona & gains the MetaNav!! I hope that’s alright with you. If not, feel free to message me again and I can rewrite it.

{ Post Writing Note: Well, I wrote way too much!! Sorry if there’s less Akechi content than you thought, I got hyperfixated on how it would affect the plot. I’d love to write a Part 2 full of angst with this, so feel free to request it!! }

- Nexus.

Dance with Justice | Goro Akechi

Life at Kosei High was predictable. Like a metronome. Constant pressure to be the best & high achievement boundaries, it was a wonder how she was ever accepted without some sort of moonlighting as a prodigy. These stories of mental shutdowns & psychotic breakdowns made the world look grim & everyone seemed desperate to escape it all.

Comfort was found in the Phantom Thieves and how they manipulated hearts. Dancing the line between immoral & illegal, it was a grey area where the who was less significant than the how. Society grasped onto them as miraculous saviours as they solved cases faster than regular forces ever could: Kamoshida, Madarame, Kaneshiro, Medjed. The world was taken by storm, these renegade rogues looking to change the world & it seemed they were no longer an urban legend.

Their downfall was unexpected, to say the least. Okumura was murdered in cold blood, his mental shutdown playing onscreen during an important meeting where he was about to reveal an important factor in solving this buck-wild case. A calling card was found at the residence, the sigil of their misdeeds. Just when the mystery was about to unravel, the threads gave way to a bigger problem: Did the Phantom Thieves cause the very shutdowns everyone was trying to escape?

Swiftly, the media capitalised. Labelling them as criminals, demanding their arrest. Everything shifted so quickly & she was caught up by the egregious claims of both sides. There was one thing for certain: The Phantoms Thieves had killed someone and regardless of their previous deeds, they needed to be brought to justice.

Naturally, the first viable suspect she found was Yusuke Kitagawa.

He was of the eccentric sort, gaining a scholarship through art. Everything the strange man did was usually for the sake of ‘ Finding true beauty! ’, which was slightly melodramatic. Before Madarame’s case, he was fixated on art singularly. Now? He seemed to have other priorities. Whenever someone would discuss the Phantom Thieves in an art lesson, there was a glimmer in his eye & the paintbrush that had been on the canvas stopped in order to listen in.

A victim of Madarame’s plagiarism, which gave a plausible motive. Despite this, nothing was concrete. She thought about her friend, Akechi. Was this how he solved crimes?

Obviously, the next step was to follow Yusuke around. Sneaking around was rather easy, all she had ever been known as by the student populace was ‘ the girl who was friends with Akechi! ’, so standing out was not much of a problem. There was not much abnormal. Despite being somewhat of a social outcast, he had a small circle of friends. Six in total.

Five of them were clearly wearing the Shujin Academy uniform on the day she spotted them. One was tall in stature with fluffy black hair & thick framed glasses. Reserved in nature but he always appeared to have some sort of witty comeback. Soon he became known as Akira.

Another one was a blonde, around the same height. He wore the uniform much like a delinquent alongside a yellow graphic tee. Obnoxiously loud, as it was never difficult to hear what he was saying even from far away. The person closest to him was Ann. She had platinum blonde hair tied back into pigtails & features of an American.

Makoto was next. Clearly more of a calculating type, she wore the uniform immaculately. Wearing her hair in a French-braid styled headband, she had maroon coloured eyes & was around average height. Most of the time, she was commenting on the boy’s behaviour.

Haru Okumura was someone recognisable due to the news about her father’s death, which was saddening. In her uniform, she wore a fluffy pink turtleneck alongside white tights with flower patterns.

Futaba was just as strange as Yusuke. She used a mixture of gamer jargon whenever she spoke and was never seen in a uniform. About middle school age, she carried around a set of headphones everywhere that regularly rested atop her maple coloured hair.

Stuffed inside of Akira’s bag was also a cat that they tried to hide. Key word: Tried. Six of them & a cat.

They frequented a local cafe in Shibuya, LeBlanc. It was a nice location & she had even gone in there once to listen in. Boss was kind, to say the least. He served coffee with a warm smile & the curry combined perfectly enough to encourage a smile out of her.

On a Friday, the cafe was busy. They had gathered at one table & chatted casually. Most of them looked forelorn. Akira eventually gestured for them to take the conversation outside, where they would disturb fewer people.

Following behind them, she paid Boss & followed, attempting to seem casual. They never noticed. Conspicuously trailing into an alleyway, Ryuji pulled out his phone. Listening in was difficult so she opted to pull out her own phone and record. One of them, presumably Akira, simply said “ Mementos. ”.

Mementos. That singular word triggered something & changed everything. As the world began to violently shift in a strange phenomena, hues of vermillion & mauve dotted her vision. It was hypnotic. Eventually, she snapped out of the trance.

Concealed by masks & flashy outfits were the suspicious group she had been following. It was blatantly obvious by their hair colours. However, the animated cat creature was a surprise. It was reminiscent of the cat Akira carried around but even stranger was that it talked. Then it turned into a bus. Which did not seem all that strange.

Inherently familiar with their environment, they sped off down the escalator, leaving her alone with her thoughts. There were so many reds & greys. Thick red veins ran through the sides in mangled forms. The wall behind her was dilapidated & the only way to proceed was the escalator in front of her.

A fatal mistake, really.

Recalling the details of the awakening are fuzzy at best. These lumbering creatures formed entirely out of shadow began to take notice of her unwanted presence. Cornered, desperate and alone. Insurmountable pain; the voice of someone almost familiar; then freedom & rebellion.

With the pact of her Persona, everything was clearer. Life had previously moved in rhetorical patterns, it was now a whimsical dance. Eliminating the so called enemies with a weapon in hand, she eventually found a way back to the surface. The door at the beginning looked to be a way out, so she threw caution to the wind & took the chance.

Fatigue came first in this dingy alleyway. Adrenaline had been fuelling the push to leave alongside her newly granted power and once that was gone, nothing would spare her from raw exhaustion. Checking her phone in the hopes of finding evidence, the video taken was still there, though it cut off as soon as anyone disappeared.

Even without evidence, she knew that this group was doing something illicit. So she texted the one person she trusted with this secret: Goro Akechi. He was a detective, surely he would have answers.

;; I must speak with you in person as soon as possible. It’s regarding the Phantom Thieves, I have some evidence for you. You’re investigating them, correct?

Knowing full well that Akechi lived a busy life, she did not expect a response for a while. After gathering the strength to stand once again, she headed home. It was the most exhausting experience ever, physically & emotionally. A few minutes after returning home, there was a response from Akechi.

I am indeed investigating them. If you have any evidence regarding them, would it not be more convenient for me to receive it via text? ;;

;; Yes, it would be, but I can barely even believe the evidence presented to me. It’s better for you to see it for yourself. Are you attending school tomorrow?

Indeed I am. Pulling away from the public eye has benefits. If you are free during lunch, we can meet on the rooftop and discuss the supposed evidence that you have found. Does that sound like a compromise? ;;

;; Alright. I’ll see you on the rooftop tomorrow.

The next day was filled with trepidation. Everyone seemed to be mulling about & with how slowly the clock was moving, it was if the school was in a state of chronostasis. Although she did not share many classes with Akechi, there had been a moment where she saw a mop of hazelnut brown hair amongst a crowd, so he was likely to be there.

Sitting on the rooftop alone was slightly boring but she understood why he was late. Every time lunch began, Akechi would be surrounded by people who wanted his attention. It must have been rather annoying.

5. 10. 15. Minutes ticked by. During the winter, it was exceptionally cold so not a single soul came up. The chilly winter breeze nipped at her skin & for a moment she wondered if it was Akechi that she had seen. The brown hair easily could have been mistaken��

The creak of the door announced his presence. With a formal apology, he recalled how his teachers were intent on swarming him with catch up work that he would inevitably never complete. Dismissing it all & moving along with the subject, Akechi got straight to the point:

“ What was it you wished to speak to me about? ”, he asked.

“ I believe I have ascertained the identities of the Phantom Thieves, ” was the only reply she gave.

Looking astounded, he shifted his glove via force of habit & looked directly at her.

“ That’s quite the bold claim, ” he returned to a neutral expression as the mask of the Detective Prince slipped back on, “ Do you have any evidence? ”.

Recalling the story to the best of her ability was tedious. From the suspicious behaviour Yusuke had been demonstrating to the video evidence taken from her phone. Throughout the entire story, he maintained a neutral expression so she was never quite sure what to think.

“ Usually, I would disregard such stories as a strange dream or a vision you had & declare your footage as edited. However, I have... also had an encounter in this strange phenomena as well. ”

Everything began to make more sense as it was explained. Akechi rattled off about the cognitive world, Palaces, Personas & even how ‘ stealing someone’s heart ’ was possible. He explained that his plan was to lend the Phantom Thieves a hand in their next assignment & catch them in the very act. Specifically, their leader.

“ That explains a lot. Let me help you. I have a Persona as well & I can fight in that other world. I want to bring the Phantom Thieves to justice. They killed Okumura & many others if they are the ones behind the mental shutdowns. Tampering with the heart of another is wrong... ”

“... Alright. I suppose it will make things easier if it is the two of us. I hope you are a very good actor,” Akechi extended a reluctant hand for her to shake. His gaze was calculated, cold. Much different from his tone of voice. However, she took his hand & shook it.

With that, a contract was signed. Both herself & the detective would bring about the end of the Phantom Thieves.

Word Count: 1.9k

Publish Date: 27.09.20

#{ crow }#{ you don’t know how much i loved this request }#{ specific requests are always the best ones because you know they care }#{ turns out i’m actually an akechi stan in disguise }#{ i hand out akechi content like i hand out drugs }#goro akechi #akechi x reader #persona 5 royal #persona 5 royal x reader #persona 5 x reader #persona 5 imagines

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jumukus · 4 years ago

Text

A3! Translation: Muku Sakisaka’s SSR [Mankai Glitter] - To Virgo: Muku

translation under the cut.

Muku: For this part, you've gotta do it like this…

...And done! I've finished making the cat doll!

Omi: Oh, it's come out pretty well. You've improved quite a lot on making a felt doll, Muku.

Muku: It's all thanks to your teaching, Omi-san. Besides, I'm still far from good…

But I want to be as good as you and Yuki-kun.

Omi: Hey, you're fine, all right? But hmm, so you want to become better at this, huh…

That's right. I know a handicraft cafe that can help you improve your skills in a relaxed way. Are you interested?

Muku: A handicraft cafe, you say!? That sounds really fun!

Omi: Why don't you invite all the Summer Troupe guys to go with you? You can make matching things there, after all.

Muku: Together with my Summer Troupe mates… Now that you mention it…

Since my birthday is fast approaching, they told me to think of a place that I want to go with them all.

I've decided where to go now! Thank you, Omi-san.

Omi: Haha, glad to hear that. Have fun there.

Muku: Yup!

I need to think of a wish after that…

Omi: A wish?

Muku: The one that we asked to the "Hello, Celestial Sphere."

Omi: Sorry, but… what's "Hello, Celestial Sphere"?

Muku: It's one of the troupe's urban legends that Kazu-kun and Misumi-san found in the warehouse.

If you wish for something to your constellation during your birthday month, it's said that your wish will come true for a day.

Omi: Heh, I didn't know there's such a thing.

Muku: I heard the old members used this as one of their party goods, so we decided to use that during our birthday parties as well.

It's sort of become the Summer Troupe's tradition to use this thing.

...Did Banri-san not tell you, though? I assumed all troupe leaders know about this…

Omi: Nope, he didn't tell me anything. But well, I feel like he's gonna tell us when the time comes.

Hello, Celestial Sphere, huh… I hope you can come up with something good.

Muku: Yup!

***

Muku: Thank you for clearing your schedules for today, guys.

Kazunari: No biggie~! We're gonna celebrate our beloved Mukkun's birthday, after all!

Kumon: Let's celebrate your birthday splendidly!

Izumi: Is it really okay for me to tag along, though?

Muku: Totally! Rather, I'm happy that you come along with us, Director-san.

Yuki: So where do you wanna go?

Muku: You'll know once we arrive there. Let's go!

Tenma: Handicraft cafe, huh?

Yuki: The interior is cute.

Kumon: Wow! We can make things like dolls and the likes here, right!?

Misumi: Sounds fun~!

Izumi: Ah, I've come here with Omi-kun before…!

Muku: Oh, really? To tell you the truth, Omi-san was the one who told me about this place.

I heard you can both improve your skill and have fun here, so I want to come here with the rest of Summer Troupe.

Kazunari: Since this is a cafe, they should have cakes and teas here.

Tenma: Yeah, let's order something before we do the handicraft. Here, the menu.

Misumi: Yup! We're here to celebrate Muku's birthday after all~!

Kumon: IKR!

Muku: You guys… Thanks!

***

Kazunari: Our orders are all here, rite? With that said…

Mukkun, happy birthday!

Summer Troupe: Happy birthday!!

Muku: Thanks! Ehehe. This made me happy…

I love acting with you all, hanging out with you all, and spending time together like this.

Thank you for everything. Let's stay good friends.

Misumi: I love spending time with you too~!

Kazunari: Same! I really, really, really love it!

Tenma: Let's keep doing our best together.

Izumi: (The Summer Troupe members sure are close with each other, huh. Muku-kun also looks really happy.)

***

Kazunari: Alrighty! Now that we've enjoyed the tasty cakes, it's time to make the felted dolls!

Yuki: Do you have any things you wanna make?

Muku: I want to make matching items with you all.

Misumi: Whoa, I like that idea~!

Kazunari: Ah! How about we make a rival for William!? We'd have six in total then!

Kumon: That means we'll make them battle over William's girlfriend Mari?

Muku: What!? But both of them already have a happy ending during the puppet show the other day. Making a rival would be kinda…

But love comes with many challenges…

Six powerful and charming rivals are appearing before William… However, later on, they all will become the best of friends.

Tenma: You're gonna make the story be more complicated at this rate, y'know.

Izumi: Fufu. I think it's a great story, though.

Yuki: Well, putting the rivals aside, it'd be nice to make something with the same size.

Kumon: Yup! Okay, let's go ahead and make it~!

Misumi: Yup~!

Waiter: Here are the kits that we have prepared. Please choose what you like. For those who have gotten used to this, naturally, you are allowed to make some arrangements.

Tenma: Which one should I choose?

Kazunari: Prick this one, and then…

Muku: I think it goes like this...

Kumon: This is so hard!

Misumi: What should I do, after this, Yuki~?

Yuki: This one goes like this. Then, for this part…

Izumi: (Despite struggling at some parts, they all look like they're having fun.)

***

Misumi: It's done!

Tenma: Alright, me too.

Kazunari: Good job! With that, now it's all done!

Izumi: Whoa, they're all cute! You guys went with different animals, huh.

Kumon: It was hard yet so fun~!

Muku: Right? I had a lot of fun too.

Yuki: Since they're all from the series, it's become a matching set. Isn't that great?

Kazunari: It's very cwute! If you line them up like this, we can see our own personalities in them!

Muku: Fufu, you're right.

OPTION 1: Your rabbit is adorable, Muku-kun.

Izumi: Your rabbit is adorable, Muku-kun. You're really good at this, huh.

Muku: You think so? Ehehe… Thank you.

Yuki: Yeah, I also think you did great. You paid attention to the details.

Misumi: The rabbit looks like Muku somehow~. It's fluffy and smiling so gently.

Kumon: I think so too!

Tenma: It does look like Muku.

Kazunari: Down to your healing vibes too!

Izumi: You're right.

Muku: R-Really? This kinda makes me shy, but… I'm happy.

OPTION 2: I tried making this, you see.

Izumi: I tried making this, you see.

Muku: Ah, a cake! Whoa, it's so cute…!

Izumi: I found this sweet series among the kits, so I decided to choose this. It's perfect for Muku-kun's birthday.

Kazunari: Oh, yeah! Hey, let's line up our animals together and put Director-chan's cake in the middle~.

Muku: Whoa…!

Misumi: It looks like the animals are celebrating Muku's birthday too~!

Kazunari: IKR!? It's very cwute~! I've gotta take a snap and post it on the blog! Captured!

Muku: So happy~. I'll print this picture and put it in the room.

Kazunari: Sounds great! Let's write some birthday wishes too after this, guys! I'll send the photo to y'all!

***

Kazunari: Once we're home, let's take a photo of them with William!

But hey, you see, I've actually come up with this idea when making these dolls. Say, don't you think having all 24 of us William's rivals is interesting!?

Kumon: A 24-way relationship!?

Izumi: If we include William, then 25…?

Tenma: That's too many!

Muku: Whoa…! I think I've read a shoujo manga with that kind of story before!

Yuki: 24-way relationship?

Muku: Yup! The boys are competing for one girl's heart!

Each of the boys have different personalities, and the one who is chosen by the heroine is beyond our expectations…!

Misumi: Is that so~?

Muku: I'm sure it'll be great if our company members reenact that manga and become the heroes…

Yuki: Well, there are also some of us who don't look like the type to date, though.

Kumon: Ah! Speaking of, Muku, have you decided on your wish to the Celestial Sphere?

Muku: Celestial Sphere…

That's it! I've decided on my wish!

Yuki: I feel like I know what it is.

Misumi: What is your wish~?

Muku: Umm…

Tenma: You've brought the Celestial Sphere, huh.

Kazunari: Oooh! Kumon also did this before. That's our cousins for ya!

Izumi: Feel free to say your wish, Muku-kun.

Muku: Yeah!

Hello, Lord Virgo…

I want our company members to reenact "Honey Concerto in Love!"

Muku: Nnggh….

(Hm…? I feel like someone is staring at me…)

Kazunari: Good morning, Mukumi. Seeing your face first thing in the morning is truly the happiest moment in my life.

Even your sleeping face is really cute today☆

Muku: ...Ka-Kazu-kun?

Kazunari: What is it? By the way, you look so cute even when spacing out… haaah, your beauty is truly a sin, Mukumi.

Muku: (Mukumi? Is he talking about me…?)

(While I do wish to have everyone reenact my favorite shoujo manga, I don't mean it like this…)

Kazunari: Come on, it's time for breakfast. Let's go, my sweet roommate☆

Muku: Y-Yeah.

***

Muku: Morning.

Yuki: Morning, Mukumi. Did you sleep well?

Misumi: Goodness. Do you have to be that cute from early in the morning, honey?

Tenma: Well now, let's begin our "Morning Appeal Time" to Mukumi.

Muku: Appeal Time!?

Misumi: I'm going first, then.

Take this, my triangle present for today. I also include my love for you.

Muku: Thank, Thank you…

Kazunari: You like this better, right, Mukumi?

This bittersweetness of citrus… reminds me of our heart-thumping meeting in that certain country.

Muku: U-Uh… I met Kazu-kun during the Summer Troupe audition, though.

Yuki: Mukumi, I saw you in my dream last night. To think that you even visited my dream…

You sure can't stand being alone, huh. You really are adorable, my angel.

Kumon: Nice weather today, huh….During summer like this, the sun is shining as bright as you.

You make my heart heat up so much I feel like it's burning… you know?

Tenma: A day like this makes me want to go to a private beach with you. Say, baby, let's have a samba dance as we match our passionate rhythm with each other.

Muku: (Whoaaa, I knew it! I'm the heroine!)

(Now that I think about it again, there's a scene like this in the manga…)

Tenma: Alright, now that the Appeal Time is over, let's have breakfast. Sit beside me, Mukumi.

Muku: Huh? Oh, okay--.

Banri: Hey, watta minute.

Juza: You're the one who should wait.

Muku: Ba, Banri-san…!? Even Juchan…!

Banri: Mukumi will sit beside me, of course. Right, Mukumi?

Juza: The heck? Since when did we ever decide on that, bastard? Come sit next to me, Mukumi.

Muku: Whoa, whoa, whoa…

Banri: Tch… Look, bastard, you made Mukumi troubled. Guess it's faster to just ask the person in question right away.

Juza: Yeah. Mukumi, who do you choose? ***

Muku: Huh!? Ummm…!

I-I'm sorry!!

Banri and Juza: Mukumi!

Muku: (I should have made my wish pretty clear and asked the Celestial Sphere to turn Director-san into the heroine...)

***

Muku: ...Ah!!

Huh…?

It, It was… a dream….

(That dream felt very real, though. It was a little bit different from what I hoped for, but the Celestial Sphere still made my wish come true…)

Kazunari: Mukkun?

Muku: Ka-Kazu-kun…

Kazunari: Morning! What's wrong, though? Jumping out of bed like that.

Muku: (Thank goodness. It's the usual Kazu-kun…)

It's nothing. Morning, Kazu-kun.

#a3!#a3! translation #summer troupe #autumn troupe #tenma sumeragi #yuki rurikawa #muku sakisaka #kumon hyodo #kazunari miyoshi #misumi ikaruga #juza hyodo #banri settsu

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idkwriteshitdown · 3 years ago

Text

Do You Know What a Thousand Years Does to a Person?

Trying my hand at a Doctor Who fanfic, featuring old companions and a slightly dark Doctor.

Some race has taken a bunch of The Doctors previous companions from their respective timelines. The thirteenth Doctor rescues them all. The past companions are reminded of how scary The Doctor can be.

This fic starts right after she breaks them out.

Word Count: 2109

(ao3 link)

---

Jack slowed down as they entered the main chamber. They had passed tapestries in the passageways as they made their way through the castle. None of them compared to what they saw hanging in the open area. Large woven tapestries were stretched horizontally over the length of the walls. They were periodically broken up by long banners that stretched down from the ceiling. The companions spread out as they looked upon the artwork in awe. The Doctor, Jack noticed, stood her hands in her pockets, rocking back on her heels as she watched them roam around the room.

He turned back to examine the work on the wall. It looked to be depicting several of their accomplishments throughout time. He saw their space travel. He saw their interactions with other planets. He saw their scientific achievements. He felt eyes on him

He turned to see The Doctor staring at him with a slight frown on her face. When she saw him looking, her face brightened and she gave a small wave. The smile didn't reach her eyes.

He turned back to look at the tapestries again. Something about them seemed familiar. He looked over them once more, but instead of admiring them for their beauty he racked his brain for answers. He stopped short when he came to the last one. It was unfinished, that was clear. The last thing shown was a group of beings, hands raised as they surrounded a hole in the tapestry. He reached out and touched it. A rift. His eyes widened and he slowly stepped back, taking in the whole work. He knows where he's seen this.

He plastered a fake smile on his face. "Doctor," he called out. The others glanced up at the call but turned back to the artwork, chatting among themselves. The Doctor stood still, regarding him wearily. He swallowed thickly and motioned for her to come over to him. She did so. Slowly.

He waited until she got within earshot before speaking again. "This artwork is very impressive," he said, turning back to face the wall. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. He saw her relax a little and reached out to run a finger over the rough fabric.

"It really is. It's a fine piece of craftsmanship that was put into this," she said. She looked up at the other pieces hanging higher up on the wall. "This whole room contains the most important parts of their history. Every time they add a new tapestry they shift everything over."

The others had wandered closer as she explained the history behind the area. Jack nodded and thought about how to approach his next question. "Doctor," he said, keeping his tone light. "Where are we?"

She hummed, but did not answer. She stayed quiet for a while and Jack thought she wasn't going to speak until she did. She spoke, but did not look at him. "Nowhere important," she said lightly.

The smile fell off his face. Slowly he counted to ten before turning to face The Doctor. "Look at me," he said gruffly. She didn't move and instead continued to look ahead. He grabbed The Doctor roughly and turned her around to face him.

"Doctor," he said again. "Where are we?"

"Jack," she said softly. She looked at him with those big doe eyes, and he cursed under his breath before asking again desperation leaking into his voice.

"When are we?"

"Jack…" she didn't say more.

He turned around taking deep breaths. He ran his hands roughly through his hair and tried to count to ten. Dimly he registered that the others had stopped talking, instead paying attention to the two of them. He ignored them, instead focusing on his counting. He made it to five before swinging back around to The Doctor. He saw her flinch and knew that he must look furious.

"Doctor," he said. His voice cracked on the word. She didn't answer, instead took a step back, retreating from his approaching form. She continued stepping back as he advanced until she tripped, stumbling. Jack's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, hauling her back up before she could fall. He looked into her eyes. He didn't see fear. He only saw guilt, and acceptance. His grip tightened.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed. Quiet enough that only he could hear.

"No," he whispered. He could barely hear himself over the roaring in his ears. The Doctor didn't respond, only looked at him sadly. He raised his free hand. He didn't know why. He didn't know what he was going to do. The Doctor didn't move, didn't even try to pull away. He felt hands on him. Grabbing him, pulling him away. He released her and stumbled back.

"What the hell was that about mate?" Graham said angrily.

They were divided. Mickey and Martha stood behind Jack, holding him back. Graham hovered protectively over The Doctor while Yaz and Ryan stood in front of her glaring angrily at Jack. The others stood in between not sure where they should stand. The Doctor herself stood cowed, curled slightly in on herself, holding her wrist tightly to her chest. She didn't look away from him. She looked small and innocent and Jack didn't even think she knew how she looked to the others right now.

"Jack," she said softly. She didn't elaborate.

Jack roughly shook off Mickey and Martha and flexed his fingers. "It's nothing," he ground out. He turned and started walking towards the entrance. "Let's just keep going."

"Keep going?" He heard Yaz shout from behind him. "You just –". She was cut off by The Doctor.

"Leave him be," he heard her say. "He's just stressed out." He shook his head in annoyance and walked away so he didn't have to hear her pacify her new companions.

~~~

The atmosphere in the room was tense. The Doctor had long since left, whisking her three companions off on another adventure. "To make up for them being kidnapped," She had said. She extended the offer to all of them. Jack declined immediately. The others, after looking at Jack and the worried look on The Doctor's face, had also declined, citing various reasons as to why they shouldn't. They couldn't help but note the look of relief that crossed her face when they said they wouldn't come.

Instead they all chose to convene at Martha and Mickey's house. They had sat together in silence for the better part of the hour; sipping tea and nibbling on biscuits. Jack could feel their eyes on him as they tried their best to not watch him as he methodically crushed the biscuits in his hand. It was Mickey who spoke first.

"Alright Jack mate, speak. What the hell happened back there?"

He flinched at the sound of Mickey's voice but didn't answer. He reached for another biscuit and got his hand slapped. He pulled back and scowled looking at the offender.

"Don't give me that look." Martha said unapologetically. "I'm not going to have you waste all my biscuits. And you're definitely going to be cleaning up the mess before you leave."

"Jack," Sarah Jane reached out and touched him on the knee. "What happened?"

He leaned back and ran his hand through his hair trying to think of the best way to explain things. "Lamenskins," he said finally.

The others exchanged confused looks. "Mate, I've got no idea what that is." Bill said. The others nodded in agreement.

"You probably wouldn't," he said. "It was after your time. It was before mine. By a couple of centuries."

"Is that where we were?" Clara asked.

He nodded. "The castle, the area, the group of people. That was Lamenskin. At least I think" He paused. Everyone settled down and leaned in. He looked around at each of them in turn. He opened his mouth and began to speak.

"It’s a bit fuzzy and I didn’t know for sure until I saw the tapestries.” When I grew up the Lamenskins were just a chapter in our history books, but before that they were kinda like a myth. There were all these stories of this amazing race that had pushed the bounds of science and medicine. A race that had single handedly advanced our section of the galaxy far beyond that of other areas. There were so many stories across so many planets of this group whose only goal seemed to be helping others. But one day they just disappeared.

“Over time they sort of became an urban legend. It was only a century or so before I was born that some archeologists stumbled upon their planet. They found technology far beyond anything that we had even seen. But there was no trace of the Lamenskins.”

"You think The Doctor caused their disappearance." Martha said.

"We know what length The Doctor would go to protect us." He said. "We may pretend not to but we're not like the others. We've seen what he, no she, no they. We've seen what they can do."

"The Oncoming Storm," Mickey said softly.

"The Destroyer of Worlds,"

"Time-Lord Victorious,"

They sat in silence, each one trying to digest the information that was told to them.

"We didn't see any bodies." Bill said hopefully. "Could be that she just magicked them away?" Even as she spoke Jack could tell she didn't believe it.

They sat in silence. Nibbling biscuits, sipping tea, avoiding thinking about the obvious fact of what happened to their captors. Jack reached for another biscuit, examining it. Custard Cream. That was The Doctor’s favorite if he remembered right. He closed his hand and watched it crumble to the floor.

"Have you noticed how much this new doctor talks?" Bill asked. It was an obvious attempt to clear the awkward air that had settled around the room, but the others leapt at it like a lifeline. "It’s a big change from grumbly old eyebrows."

Clara nodded laughing. "It really is. I swear she jumped to three separate topics in one minute. I don't know how the others keep up with her."

"They probably just learned to nod at the right places," Mickey said. "I know I did with our Doctor." He nudged his wife.

She rolled her eyes. "It was practically a requirement. I’m glad to see that the tendency to talk indef about things nobody cares to understand still remains." The others chuckled in agreement. "I saw their faces when we first got out. Their eyes practically glazed over the moment she started talking. They are definitely used to that."

"But she is kinda cute tho." Bill said. "What?” She said defending herself. “We were all thinking about it."

Mickey raised his hand. "I wasn't. I'm married.”

They all laughed, and just like that the mood in the room lightened.

"But seriously though," Bill said. "You all knew The Doctor as a man right? It’s so weird."

“I know.”Mickey said, “I can’t imagine her gettin’ out half the trouble she’d get into as a woman.” At the looks he received he added, “not that being a girl has anything to do with it.”

“You’re outnumbered my friend.” Jack said with a smile. “I can’t decide if this new regeneration puts her in more or less trouble. She’s so trusting and excitable. You can see it on her face, she shows every emotion. She’s impulsive- ” He cut himself off in frustration, hands raking roughly through his hair. He liked The Doctor. Honestly, he did, but sometimes she scared him. “It’s what makes her dangerous.”

“You think she could’ve found another way.” Clara said flatly.

“I don’t think she wanted to.” He replied. He slumped, feeling all his years hit him at once. “You guys don’t understand. She’s lived for thousands of years, born to a race that thought themselves superior to everything else. It gets difficult to keep things in perspective. Hell, I’m only human, and have been around just for a fraction of the time she has. It gets hard. When you outlive so many people. It gets hard to keep things in perspective. Sacrificing a whole civilization to save her friends?” He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. “I know she did what she thought she had to do but…” He trailed off and looked at his friends. Friends he knew he was going to outlive.

"It still hurts. To be reminded of what she's done. What she will do. What she can do. And to know that no matter how many thousands of years will pass, she'll never forget." Jack looked down at his hands. "I know I won't."

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #jack harkness #fanfic

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tigerkirby215 · 4 years ago

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5e Graves, the Outlaw build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Jason Chan. Made for Riot Games.)

Blam blam?

Honestly I made Twisted Fate awhile ago so Graves was on my To Do list. It does also help that he has become a bit of a main character in the Tales of Runeterra shorts, being featured in both the Bilgewater and Bandle City short. And his place in the League meta certainly helps too.

But truthfully most of the builds I make are rather spur of the moment. Graves was just one I had a sudden bit of inspiration to do, which is why he’s up now.

GOALS

Hope you weren't planning to die of natural causes - Two barrels of Destiny should be enough to blow the brains out of anyone who stands in your way, or any other squishy bits.

I ain't got time to bleed - Who has more armor? The woman riding a horse made of literal metal, or the guy with a shotgun who did a bunch of Wave Dashes?

Lights out - To keep foes in place you’re going to need to smoke them out... Smoke them in?

RACE

Because I’m sick of constantly making Variant Humans I’m still going for Eberron Dragonmarks. Nothing really makes sense for Graves except for the Mark of Passage. Your Dexterity increases by 2 and you can increase any ability of your choice by 1: bump up that Constitution for a bit more bulk in the jungle.

You have Courier’s Speed for 5 extra feet of movement and Intuitive Motion to drive land vehicles or make Acrobatics checks. But of course the main feature we’re here for is Magical Passage to cast Misty Step once per Long Rest. Since we won’t be getting Misty Step from elsewhere we’ll finally have an accurate cooldown for Flash!

If Dragonmarks aren’t an option: Variant Human with either the Crossbow Expert feat or the Fey Touched feat works fine.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - DEX is the “shoot gun” stat, as well as your AC stat among other things. Turns out we’ll have to shoot our gun a lot.

14; CHARISMA - Graves has a gruff charm to him, and while Fate is the one who usually does the talking that doesn’t mean Graves is incapable of doing so.

13; CONSTITUTION - You’re deceptively tanky for a Markman, though that mostly comes from Grit.

12; STRENGTH - You’re also a fairly large man, and New Destiny is a heavy gun.

10; WISDOM - You can tell when folk are lying but you’re a little dense.

8; INTELLIGENCE - But if the Legends of Runeterra shorts have shown anything it’s that you’re only really getting by on dumb luck and determination.

BACKGROUND

LoL wiki says you’re a mercenary, but you tend to work alone (or sometimes with your partner Tobias) so Urban Bounty Hunter makes a lot more sense for finding the scum of Bilgewater. Insight is nice but I’d also grab Intimidation instead of Persuasion or Deception, because you don’t play nice. You also get some tool proficiencies: I’m sure your partner taught you how to play with Cards and Dice, if only to cheat you out of your money.

But what we’re mainly here for is the Ear to the Ground feature, letting you keep in contact with Bilgewater’s underbelly to know who needs a blasting. These connections can get you a contact for bounty work anywhere you may go.

(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - FIGHTER 1

If Fighter is the fastest way to learn how to shoot a gun then you must fight! Fighters get two proficiencies from the Fighter list: Athletics and Acrobatics will help you with all that “jungling” stuff.

You also get a Fighting Style and you may be surprised to hear but we’re going for Archery to shoot your gun better, and you also get Second Wind for some refillable potions.

Honestly the most interesting thing to talk about with Fighter levels is what you’re going to grab for a weapon. If you’ve got an Artificer who can give you a cool (Heavy) Crossbow then feel free to grab that, but for the most part we’ll be using Hand Crossbows to recreate the range limitations of Graves’ shotgun.

LEVEL 2 - FIGHTER 2

You’ve got two barrels on your gun so you should shoot both of them in a round thanks to Action Surge. Get another action on your turn! Yup that’s all she wrote chief.

LEVEL 3 - FIGHTER 3

Third level Fighters get to choose their Martial Archetype and Graves is simple, boring, but effective. Feel free to take something more fun (or just use the Dark Tides of Bilgewater Renegade subclass tbh) but it’s about time I crack out the good ol’ Champion Fighter! Buy a Collector for an Improved Critical range of either 19 or 20! That’s 10% crit chance! But any ADC main will tell you that 10% crit still isn’t much crit.

LEVEL 4 - FIGHTER 4

4th level Fighters get our first Ability Score Improvement but being able to shoot good is more important. Grab Crossbow Expert to shoot in melee, reload quickly in a fight, and shoot with your Bonus Action after shooting!

LEVEL 5 - FIGHTER 5

5th level Fighters get an Extra Attack to Blam and then Blam again. These two Blams are separate from your Crossbow Expert Blam which is also separate from Action Surge, allowing you to Blam another two times meaning by level 5 you can already Blam up to 5 times in one round!

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 6 - SORCERER 1

What? Did you really think that we wouldn’t have any spellcaster levels? Sorry to say it but there’s no easy way for a martial character to shoot out a smoke cloud or Wave Dash enough to survive a sniper rifle shot in the head.

We’ll be going for the Clockwork Soul since your gun is certainly mechanical in nature, and it’s certainly the soul of your character. As a Clockwork Sorcerer you can use your reaction to Restore Balance and negate either Advantage or Disadvantage a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, regaining all expended uses at the end of a Long Rest. I’d flavor this more as your skill from years in the business letting you steady your aim or dodge out of the way of a foe who thinks they have the upper hand.

You know what helps with getting the upper hand? Spellcasting, especially with extra spells from Clockwork Magic. The extra spells you can get can be from the Abjuration or Transmutation schools, and can be from the Wizard, Warlock, or Sorcerer spell list. This means you can grab Shield for some Grit AC, and Absorb Elements for some Magic Resistance as well. You also get 4 cantrips and 2 more leveled spells:

CANTRIPS

Mind Sliver will serve as your Challenging Smite, weakening enemies and damaging them.

Message will help you keep in team chat with TF.

Prestidigitation will let you do all sorts of minor tricks with your bullets and gas canisters.

Mending will help you fix up your outfit after getting in scuff.

SPELLS

Fog Cloud will serve as your Smoke Screen, obviously.

To shoot out some Galeforce projectiles, grab Magic Missile to execute! (Note: Magic Missile will not actually execute.)

LEVEL 7 - WARLOCK 1

I COULDN’T HELP IT I’M SORRY. Warlock levels give us an easy way to have spells ready with just a short rest. First level Warlocks can choose their Patron at level 1 and for a bit more lethality take the Genie Patron. You can choose your Genie Kind and a Djinni will give a couple of benefits: for one your Genie’s Vessel will let you do Thunder damage equal to your Proficiency bonus once per turn thanks to Genie’s Wrath. You also have Bottled Respite for a safe place to rest and store the two guns and three knives you are expected to stick onto your gun.

You also get Pact Magic which is like regular spell slots but they come back after a Short Rest. Thunderwave is a good way to give yourself some space with shotgun knockback, and is on your Warlock spell list since you took the Djinni patron! And Hex is just good to Smite a foe to do more damage to them.

LEVEL 8 - WARLOCK 2

Second level Warlocks get their second Pact Magic slot, which is the main reason we need at least 2 levels in Warlock. But you also get Eldritch Invocations: Devil’s Sight will let you see through the dark with your dumb human eyes. And to play dress up Mask of Many Faces will let you put on some skins!

You can also learn another first level spell from the Warlock list: honestly there isn’t much I want, so I guess you can grab Armor of Agathys for some Thornmail.

(Artwork by Bo “chenbowow” Chen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 9 - FIGHTER 6

Back to Fighterman, take me by the hand for Ability Scores and, +2 to Dexterity man.

LEVEL 10 - FIGHTER 7

7th level Champions are Remarkable Athletes, letting them add half their proficiency bonus to any STR, DEX, or CON check made which you aren’t already proficient in. Unfortunately you have proficiency in Athletics and Acrobatics but at least this buffs your Slight of Hand and Stealth. And since Initiative is a DEX check, this ability improves that too!

Oh and you can also increase the distance of a running long jump by a number of feet equal to your Strength modifier. A whole extra foot of jumping distance!

LEVEL 11 - FIGHTER 8

Hey more Ability Score Improvements! Cap off that Dexterity, and also put 1 in Charisma for later.

LEVEL 12 - FIGHTER 9

9th level Fighters get a QSS for Indomitable, rerolling a failed save to potentially succeed! Are you going to succeed any mental saving throws? Probably not, but you’ve got a good chance for Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution. And you can use this for Death Saves too!

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - FIGHTER 10

10th level Champions get a whole Additional Fighting Style! Wowie! Take Defense for a bit more Grit in a teamfight.

LEVEL 14 - FIGHTER 11

11th level Fighters get an extra Extra Attack, letting them attack 3 times in a round. This means 4 attacks with Crossbow Expert and 7 if you Action Surge!

LEVEL 15 - FIGHTER 12

12th level Fighters get another Ability Score Improvement, and you know what’s better than one Flash? Two Flashes! Grab the Fey Touched Feat to increase your Charisma by 1, get another once-per-day use of the Misty Step spell, and also grab the Heroism spell for a bit more grit that you can cast with your first level slots.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 16 - FIGHTER 13

13th level Fighters get another use of Indomitable. That’s two rerolls on any failed save! Wow I know basic math!

LEVEL 17 - FIGHTER 14

14th level means another Ability Score Improvement: more Charisma means better Definitely-Not-Spells. But feel free to get something like Sharpshooter or another more practical feat, as the only spells you really have which rely on Charisma are Mind Sliver and Thunderwave.

LEVEL 18 - FIGHTER 15

15th level Champions finally grab their Infinity Edge for a Superior Critical on an 18, 19, or 20! 15% crit chance!

LEVEL 19 - FIGHTER 16

16th level means another Ability Score Improvement: either cap off your Charisma or grab some better feats. Build flexibility is important. "Got any bright ideas?"

LEVEL 20 - FIGHTER 17

Our last level is the 17th level of Fighter for one more use of Indomitable (making it 3 uses total) as well as an extra use of Action Surge! You can’t Action Surge twice in the same turn but you can Action Surge two turns in a row to really put the DPS out!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

I like my enemies two ways: dead, or about to be - Your shots are as reliable as they are deadly. 4 shots per turn thanks to Crossbow Expert’s Bonus Action, all of which have a whopping +13 to hit! Not to mention Genie’s Wrath giving you a flat +6 damage every turn and Superior Critical allowing you to crit 15% of the time.

Let's settle the score - A little bit of magic never hurt anyone. A few Misty Steps and a few more Shields can keep you out of danger, and spells like Hex can let you up your DPS. Even Fog Cloud (while admittedly situational) can still give you cover for either an attack or an escape.

Easy, partner - All that magic along with Fighter abilities and Fighter hit die means that you’re sturdier than most, with plenty of ways to shrug off attacks or boost yourself up after getting hit.

CONS

Who's in the dark now? - Making a specific point of dumping both Intelligence and Wisdom leaves you very lacking in social encounters. It also means that you’ll have a lot of trouble with spells. Even Hold Person can really hinder you.

Everyone's a hero... till you shoot off a leg or two - Champion isn’t exactly the most exciting class and this is well-known, but unfortunately Graves isn’t exactly the most exciting champion. Trust me I’d love to make him a Battle Master, Arcane Archer, Samurai, or Renegade (Dark Tides of Bilgewater.) But Graves is a big man with big crits and not much else.

Go ahead; I like moving targets - One more level in Warlock would’ve given you Misty Steps that come back after a Short Rest, as well as the Darkness spell which is arguably stronger than Fog Cloud. It would’ve also given you your Pact Boon, all of which are very strong. Honestly while the 17th level of Fighter is stronger if you know that you aren’t going to get to level 20 I’d definitely recommend a third Warlock level for the reasons I just said.

But of course anyone can win if they can just wave their hands around to send giant flaming rocks out of the sky. You prove that all you need to win a fight is a big gun, good aim, and a whole lotta grit. Put one between their eyes and a hundred more into their chest, and don’t mind any potential Collateral Damage. Just watch out for traps and stay clear of Yordles; wouldn’t want to be featured in another animated short.

(Artwork by Xu “Crow God” Cheng. Made for Riot Games.)

#dnd #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends Graves #blam blam #dnd fighter #Graves can have magic but #Graves can't have his cigar?

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years ago

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Monsters of the Museum || Dakota and Morgan

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @dakotasgrant & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Dakota and Morgan try to open up to one another. Some things are scarier than glass-cased monstrosities.

CONTAINS: Mentions of alcoholism, parental abuse, death, and car accident

Despite the weird shit that happened when she and Morgan hung out last, Dakota still felt as though she needed to water this seed, because when it came to everyone else in town so far… Well, this was the only one that was growing. She felt a little bad about getting defensive, and she had already planned on apologizing again once she saw Morgan at the museum, but… Well, technically what she’d said had been true. Morgan knew a sensitive detail about Dakota, but she didn’t really know her. And if she was going to take her only friend’s advice when it came to making more friends, then she needed to know more about Morgan first.

The museum had been her own idea, and even as she sat on the steps waiting patiently for her company to arrive, she still thought it would be fun with or without her. In an effort to be a nicer person, though, she did have two coffees set by her side, her hands in her pockets. She hoped Morgan liked hot bean water sans cream and sugar.

Morgan’s nerves prickled like needles as she pulled up to the museum. For all the effort they’d put into their pop up display during the carnival, the actual building was kind of dull looking, like a refurbished old train station no one had ever cared about. She steadied herself, trying to narrate a version of this visit to herself that both didn’t end with more attempted theft, or factual education, and had her leave with her conscience intact. She couldn’t exactly coax Dakota into making a scene while she smashed her way through reclaiming some supernatural artifacts to restore to their rightful communities, like she had with Deirdre. Nothing came to mind, so maybe she would just ignore everything in the museum and focus on the conversation around them. They were here to get to know each other. She didn’t need to worry about corpses being disrespected by being called creations and elaborate hoaxes, or photographs of supernaturals who hadn’t wanted to be seen dismissed, or magic relics categorized as superstition. She would be fine, and the afternoon with Dakota would be a good one.

Morgan finally got out of her Subaru and jogged up to meet her friend. “Hey! It’s a great day to be inside where it’s warm, huh? Let’s go, yeah?” She offered a hand to help Dakota up. “I tried to come up with some kind of random fact like they make you come up with in cheesy ice breakers on the way but--” I was too distracted by knowing how much wrongful nonsense you’re about to fall for in here. “--I just couldn’t. I’ve had some memorable shitty jobs in the past? I used to have an online crystal shop? My cat that’s been with me the longest, Anya, liked to be walked on a leash and harness?” She held open the door for them as they went in. “What I’m trying to say is, I will try to be as much of an open book as possible, okay?” And as long as they kept talking, how hard could that be?

She stepped onto the shiny tile floor and came face to face with half a dozen dull-eyed, incorporeal school children in their uniforms. She squealed, covering her mouth a second too late and jumped back close to Dakota. “Sorry! This place is just--” Haunted. Full to the brim and fucking haunted within an inch of its life. Morgan couldn’t look in any direction without catching sight of at least two spirits hovering near the display cases. Shit, shit, shit. “--so impressive! Like, way more than I thought it would be!”

Dakota was a little bit more excited than she wanted to admit, especially when Morgan showed up. She wasn’t the kind of person she ever thought she’d be friends with -- she was quirky, and weird, and confusing… But she was bright and bubbly and seemed to be this kind of oddly positive, always “chipper” sort of person. Which, as anyone could see, was the complete opposite of herself. But it made her happy to see that even if she was such a cynic, the people around her could still exist in this sort of.. Care-free innocence, it seemed. Of course, that was all her own perception, but she still firmly believed that Morgan did have some sort of sweet innocence to her, whether or not that was actually true. And she was also a firm believer that being friends with someone like Morgan was the closest she’d ever come to being that bright and bubbly and kind and sweet.

“Hey,” she greeted, but within a short amount of time she was bombarded with words. She forgot that Morgan did that, but this time it was slightly more endearing than the last. From a crystal shop to her cat, she did realize that all she was trying to do was tell her that she was going to be as genuine as possible. Whether or not Dakota chose to believe whatever she was about to say for the next few hours was up for discussion, but who would lie about a cat being walked on a harness? “Right, yeah -- Um. I guess I just wanted to know more about who you are as a person, you know?” she began, holding the door for the both of them to shuffle in. “So, let’s start with --” she began, but was quickly shut up by Morgan’s reaction to the museum.

While Dakota was impressed by the tile and artwork, Morgan seemed to have jumped back only a few moments after being inside -- as if she’d just seen a scary bug. This forced Dakota’s brows to knit together, looking at her in pure confusion. “Uh.. Yeah, I guess so..” It’s not that impressive. “I mean, it’s just a museum -- in my opinion. Have you been to the MET? I heard it’s crazy nice in there.”

“Uh…” Morgan winced with genuine embarrassment. “Sorry. I think my bar was just set really low. I mean, stars, they even have headsets! Not that I want one, you can’t really be with someone when you’re doing that.” Another nervous smile. She glared at the school children floating in front of them in a way that she hoped said, get lost. But they only glanced at Dakota with their cataract eyes and floated, dripping, back to the display case they seemed bound to. Morgan side stepped them carefully as she started down the nearest open corridor. “I did go to the MET actually! It’s so incredible, I didn’t even get to see half of it. It was just a few hours, when I took that trip to New York City with my girlfriend. We wanted our second day to be more chill and get back to our room before Times Square got too crowded, so we just walked the parts of the MET together that we could, popped out and found a bakery, and walked to a historical cemetery after. But here was this great collection of Dutch and German renaissance art and some pottery from indigenous tribes from the southwest. You should go, if you ever get the chance. I just, you know, didn’t think it would be this nice or roomy here.” She cleared her throat, hiding the impulse to seize up at the sight of a headless woman drifting up and down the corridor with them, phasing through half the patrons as she did.

“I’m not really sure how to define what kind of person I am,” she admitted, lowering her gaze to gather herself better. “I feel like I’m in a state of flux. I’m afraid you really will just have to play detective on that one.”

In the spirit of trying to make friends, Dakota tried her best to ignore the way Morgan was acting at the moment. If she’d been to the MET, she shouldn’t have been this surprised by the roominess of the museum… But, of course, she had to remind herself of Morgan’s excitability, and simply dismissed the issue. You can’t dismiss everything entirely, though can you? She didn’t want to think about that. The Nordica was weeks ago, and she hadn’t seen anything other than a big open showfloor with a few intrigued patrons wandering. All who seemed normal, all who seemed human, and no sign of anything with horns, so.. Maybe that’s just how Morgan was. Excitable. A little strange. Definitely weird. All true statements, sure, but she was also a friend.

“Everyone’s always in flux, Morgan. That’s sort of what life does to people. So tell me about your stages, and… I guess I’ll tell you mine.” she stated -- not in a malicious or rude manner, because to Dakota, she was just stating facts. If she listed all the changes she’s been through in the last 30 years of her life, she was sure she could come up with a way she was changing even now, approaching 40 in the next three years. Ooh, don’t think about that, either. They started at the Mutated Dog Remains exhibit, which was really just a bunch of old bones reassembled that showed minor mutations, but she had to admit they all looked rather large. The plaque below a particularly strange looking resemblance of a creature that must have died a while ago mentioned the word hellhound, but debunked the term by stating it was an urban legend, a made-up story, folklore.

“I know that you’re a lesbian, and a wiccan, and that you like deathly stuff. I know you had a best friend when you were younger that made you realize you were gay, and I know you have a girlfriend, and I know you’ve been to New York City. I also know that you have a cat. I guess the reason we’re here is because -- I mean, if you want to talk to me about letting people get to know me, least of all Marley Stryder, then I think it’s fair that I get to know the person who’s giving this crazy advice. So what’s the stuff you never tell anybody? Or were your parents like, happy when you were a kid?”

“Well, I flux more or harder than most people,” Morgan said with a low laugh. “And that’s three cats, total. I got Anya in Houston, and my girlfriend and I got Moira together, and we took in Niamh when her owner, a friend of ours, died suddenly late last year.” She couldn’t help but laugh again, shaking her head ruefully now as the suggestion that her parents were happy. “Oh, stars above, no. I mean, we tried. They tried. And we had moments, like most families, and that’s what I try to focus on but…” Another dry laugh. How did you explain, ‘well my mom was magically cursed with true suffering and shared that curse with me when I was born, so!’ “It was really complicated. My mother was…a really hurt woman. She did what she thought was best, but by the time she had me, her perception of ‘best’ had been warped by a lot of fear and bad experiences. She was really accepting of me when I came out, but that didn't really make all the times she dragged me screaming to my room and locked me in for awhile go away, you know?” Morgan winced, wondering if this was already oversharing. “I’m okay now, obviously,” she hastened to say. “I was just raised under some really specific circumstances that are hard for a lot of people to understand.”

“More or harder than most people?” Dakota repeated, trying her best not to sound judgmental. Lord knows she was the last person to judge, but.. It still came somewhat natural to her. Gotta work on that. She listened, though, about the cats -- reading plaque after plaque of random artifacts that didn’t look more or less interesting than what she could find at Pottery Barn. The place was probably filled with hoaxes, but she wasn’t about to comment, because.. God, wasn’t she so tired of being cynical all the time? Despite her overall standoffishness, Dakota really did care about what Morgan had to say. She could relate in a lot of ways to the story she told -- the half truths she was narrating. She’d been locked in her room before, but probably not for too long, because she always found a way out. And the more she thought about it, it was probably because dad was angry, and nobody wanted to be around when he started yelling. He never hit, though. If she loved him for anything other than ABBA, it was because he never hit. But she wasn’t going to tell Morgan any of that. Fucking hypocrite, she thought to herself. Asking this woman to bare her deepest darkest secrets while you can’t even tell her the truth. If there was one good intention of Dakota’s, though, it was that she cared about Morgan, and if she wanted to get any closer than an arm’s length, she’d need to read the footnotes. “Kind of sounds like Sparknotes there, Beck.” she said, tucking her hands into the pockets of the coat she was wearing while they aimlessly strolled the museum. “You don’t have to go any deeper than that if you don’t want. I’m just.. Saying that you can. If that’s what you want.”

“Wow,” Morgan said, laughing unsteadily. “And here I thought I was oversharing.” She shifted a little closer to Dakota, dodging the spectre of a man with burnt, twisted limbs. He glowered at her, condemning her denial of him. “I’m sorry,” she hissed under her breath. And she was. But smashing glass and striking up conversation with the air in a room full of normies wasn’t going to fix anything. “Um, if you pick a number that’s a multiple of three I can give you the Nightline Edition of some quality trauma. We can pull up one of those number generators on my phone if we really want to play with fate.” She laughed at her own bad joke. No one knew better than her that fate didn’t let you play when she’d made up her mind. It had only been, what, fifteen minutes from the banshee scream on her life to the rebar pole skewering her insides? “Last year counts too,” she added. “I’m not trying to be cagey on purpose. Shockingly, I am actually trying not to scare you off by dumping too much all at once.”

She stopped in front of a framed photograph of the Bachman House, now a pile of rubble in the bend. The placard mentioned the number of unusual deaths on the property, with the usual highlights of trampled by own horse, impaled by own farm tools, unlucky trip down stairs, and those were just the ones that could be ruled by accidents. On the other balcony, she could see teeth in glass boxes and a singular framed wing. “Can I ask you something first?” Morgan asked, her eyes settling into an empty middle distance where there was nothing to see, nothing to hide, no problem. “Where do you think all this stuff comes from? The stories, the pain around it all. What do you believe about it?”

“A multiple of three, huh?” Dakota inquired, mainly just to amuse her. If she was going to be friends with Morgan, it was quite obvious that she was going to have to play by her rules -- meaning that she probably would have to settle for the goofiness, or the kindness, or the sunshine and rainbows of it all. Weirdest part about all of that was the fact that Dakota usually scoffed at people who seemed to be full of so much joy. What the fuck was there to be joyful about, ever? You’re born, you live, you work for fifty years or so, and you die. The monotony of life… The mundanity of it all. So what the fuck was Morgan Beck even smiling about, even if she did have a Nightlife Edition highlight reel of her trauma ready to share? Jesus, dude, go to therapy.

Morgan caught her off guard, just a tad, with her next question. Where did she think all of this stuff came from? What does she believe about all of it? Dakota simply shrugged, unsure of how to put her thoughts into words, which was a first. “I.. Guess the bones come from a bunch of different animals. Some of the artifacts have to be mass produced or ordered off, like, Etsy. The pictures and stuff? Well, anyone can go up to a creepy looking house that hasn’t had any tender love and care for a few decades and make up a story.” Dakota paused, bringing her attention back to the Bachman house. “I guess that’s what it is, in a nutshell. People wanting to believe things bad enough. People wanting other people to believe them bad enough. But the key is in making up the story -- because you can’t spell believe without L-I-E.”

Dakota let a lull in the conversation pass, tucking her hands back into her pockets, wandering off from the picture.“I pick 27, by the way. For the multiples thing.” she tossed over her shoulder.

Morgan nodded along. She couldn’t fault Dakota for speaking so callously without knowing how it all tied to Morgan. And there was some kind of awful experience sitting under her stiffness, something that made her mistrust goodness and acceptance. “I’ll give you a two for one special,” she said quietly. “The house in that picture is mine. And everything in that placard is true. I have the documents from the town archives to prove it. And there’s a few more deaths that happened off the property tied to my family. There was a servant girl named Constance who wanted to run away with one of the Bachman daughters, Agnes. They were found out by Agnes’ mother, Hannah Bachman, and the story suddenly went from a desperate romantic getaway to coercion. Constance didn’t have any family or friends to stick up for her, so word of her preying upon the innocent Bachman daughter spread, and she spent about a month living in the woods like an animal until she finally died.” Died because she surrendered her form to power a generational curse, but Morgan didn’t feel like arguing those particulars with a skeptic. “There are some truly horrible, inexplicable things that happen here that are just as real as the morning weather.”

She turned to Dakota, smiling sadly. “When I was twenty-seven, I was supposed to be finishing up my Masters’ in literature. I was living in this nice apartment with some other students and one of them was in my program. And she was so beautiful, and I would’ve done anything for her except say I liked her. One day I’m making sun tea and she pulls me aside about something, how behind on my share of the rent I am, and it’s going okay, but I decide to start opening up about--” The curse. Stupidly, she’d tried to tell her about the curse. “Some of the smaller crises that were going on, and she didn’t believe me and got really upset. And...okay, so the super swore later on that he had replaced all the windows so they were double insulated. This one windowpane had been missed. So when the girl threw one of my plants at the window, the whole thing shattered. I went to pick up the glass and she wanted me to stay away from her, and she pushed me, but because of the glass around her, she also cut herself and slipped and she went backwards just right out the window and fell through what was left of it. We were on the fourth floor, so…” Morgan winced. “Everyone heard us screaming before then, and my standing over the window-- I mean, it was so fast I was too late before I even tried to get close enough to catch her-- it didn’t look good, and they made me re-hash everything we’d been talking about and they didn’t like or believe it either, so I spent the evening answering questions from the authorities, and being yelled at by my roommates, and packing up my stuff. Then came the psych evaluation, which I was too anxious and scared to refuse, and that was pretty scary. And by that time it was eight o’clock or something, so I holed up in a Whataburger for a little bit and then drove around our college town trying to figure out where I was supposed to go next. I got a shitty little Motel 6 place for a few months before I could get leave of absence paperwork going and do depressed 20-something shit until I could start back again with a cohort that didn’t know me.” She thought back on that day, shivering at the memory of the body ragdolled on the gravel, the blood framing her and soaking her hair, the glare of the sun on her empty face… “Sometimes things just happen.” Sometimes they happened because the neutrality of the universe could hurt, and sometimes they happened because you were cursed to carry your great-great grandmother’s crimes on your shoulders.

Dakota had fully intended on continuing to browse the museum, already halfway to the next display whenever Morgan spoke up about the Bachman house. She listened, of course, but part of her didn’t believe a word coming out of her mouth. But she remembered something Erin had said a few weeks ago, something about how she herself had nothing to gain from lying to her, and Dakota couldn’t help but wonder if the same was true for Morgan. What would she have gained by lying to her? What would she get out of a story like that? Unless the woman standing before her was severely mentally ill, suffering from some sort of psychosis or a personality disorder, then what was Morgan getting out of lying about a picture of a house? She stopped in her path, turned back to look at her, and just as she was about to grill her for the evidence, she started talking about grad school.

Morgan shared, and after she’d finished, the exhibit they’d been standing in had been emptied of all people, most of whom had gone on to go see whatever else this place had to offer. Dakota didn’t mean to stare, but she was looking at Morgan for what felt like forever, and suddenly, deciding on whether or not the Bachman story was true wasn’t exactly the most pressing issue anymore. “Jesus Christ,” she murmured, because it was the only thing she really knew to say. She almost wanted to give Morgan a hug, but she wasn’t a touchy person, and she wasn’t even sure if they were close enough for that anyways, so she refrained. “Not sure I can follow that. You win on the trauma stories.”

“It’s not a contest,” Morgan said softly. “Honestly, it’s…” She exhaled slowly. It had been awful, yes. And it had taken her longer than usual to bounce back, to make friends without wanting to run or panic. She didn’t bother telling anyone about the curse at all after that, at least until White Crest. It was the kind of hurt you didn’t think about too much. Besides, there was always another one three years ahead. On and on until the day she died. “I’ve had worse. And it was over ten years ago. I don’t really, you know, think about it that much in the grand scheme of things. I have other, bigger things to worry about.” She did her best to brush it off as no big deal, but in the wake of the confession, she mostly felt bewilderment at her forming any attachments in White Crest at all. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself, huh? I mean, I know you’ve shared a lot already, and I don’t mind talking more, I just don’t want to take all the air in here, either.” She looked sidelong at Dakota, unsure at how she was really taking all this. Did she think she was making this up? Did she think she was crazy?

Morgan was right. It wasn’t a competition. But if you did compare the two stories -- Dakota’s entire life and then the one incident that happened to Morgan when she was 27 -- Dakota would look like a spoiled goddamned brat. Of course, she could tell her about The Nordica… But she was still in denial about the events that unfolded that night. Erin was the only one she trusted enough to talk about that with because she was the only one she knew that had seen the event take place. She was the only one she really felt safe enough with to talk about the possibility that maybe that thing wasn’t just some rare animal, and maybe it was a monster. Regardless of that, though, it didn’t matter how many times Dakota showed up at Erin’s place to talk about it, because denial was more than just a river in Egypt. Dakota took the opportunity to lean against the railing that blocked museum goers from getting too close to any artifacts that weren’t held behind plexiglass, folded her arms over her chest and let out a little sigh. “I don’t feel like going by multiples of any particular number, so I’m just going to tell you everything, so try to keep up.” Here goes nothing. Or everything.

“I was born and raised in Detroit, but you knew that. It wasn’t the nice part of Detroit because we were really fucking poor. My mom worked at Valentino’s Diner on 8 Mile Road and I never saw her because she was always working -- double shifts, almost every day. I literally remember being a kid and dipping into the drug store to buy her cigarettes and dropping them off on my way home from school. My dad was an alcoholic. I still don’t really know much about him, but I know that he fell asleep in his recliner every night with old ass tv shows on with usually some type of scotch or brandy at his side. One time our house almost burnt down because he blacked out with a lit cigar in his hand -- he must’ve dropped it, because there was a huge cinched patch in our living room that we had to cut out of the carpet.” You’re really going for it, huh? “They fought… A lot. Because mom was doing the double shifts I told you about, and Dad bled their savings dry for booze, and they were always yelling at each other about money. When I was younger I remember asking my mom who “Bill” was. I used to think that we must have just had a lot of thunderstorms because the power kept going out, but really the power just kept getting shut off. Dad referred to her as a “ball and chain” to his buddies, but I think it was the other way around, because my mom was smart. And really fucking brave. And he knew that if he ever hit her, he’d be a dead man, because she wasn’t afraid to fight back. So I know what it’s like to be locked in your room. I didn’t understand then, but I know now that really she was just trying to protect me from seeing things I didn’t need to see, but must’ve forgot that I had ears. When I got older, I started sneaking out of my bedroom window when shit like that happened. Went and rode my bike, that sort of thing. I remember always being so pissed that I never knew what was going on, which is probably why I do what I do. I hate it when nobody knows what’s going on. All that misinformation..” she trailed off. Yeah, you’re one to talk. “Anyways, I was the poor kid with really greasy hair and hand-me-down clothes, and people talked. Kids are fucking assholes. But I took after my mom, because I’m pretty smart, too, and I worked my ass off and got to college. Chris -- my, uh, ex that I told you about -- he followed me. He was going to be a big businessman or whatever the fuck, and really I just wanted the stability, so.. I stayed. For a while. Then I ended up here. And you’d think that the bullshit would’ve stopped, but I know what it feels like to see someone die now, so.. I guess we’re on the same page there.”

“Oh, Dakota…” Morgan pulled her into her arms as best she could. “That’s not something you should have to know. Sorry doesn’t change anything, but… I am. And I don’t--I don’t think it’s too late for you to leave, if that’s what you want. This place is violent. Whatever, whoever you saw die...it’s just a lot more common here than it is in some other places. This place is violent and cruel and you have definitely suffered enough.” From Dakota’s expression, the same could maybe be said for her, but there was too much here. She felt bound to it, or maybe she was just mired and didn’t realize. “I know you’re just starting to find your way, but no one would blame you if you went.”

She pulled back, still touching the woman’s arm, lingering there. “Listen...if you…” Morgan hesitated. Dakota had made herself so vulnerable and Morgan knew exactly what she really wanted to know about her, and who was she to push Dakota to be more vulnerable and open with new people if she couldn’t even try to offer this? “Do you still really want to know what’s...why my body is the way that it is? Because I can tell you, or I can try to. But we should probably find somewhere to sit first.”

Can’t leave yet. “Yeah, but if I skipped town now, who would I cry to about personal shit in the middle of a museum full of hoaxes? Seriously, this is invaluable.” Dakota sounded a bit sarcastic, but she did mean it -- if she were to get the next plane ticket outta this place, she would most definitely be losing one of the only relationships she ever cared about in her life and leaving it behind. Even if White Crest was a cursed place, she’d still feel bad for leaving Morgan.

After she had pulled back from the hug -- which was accepted but not necessarily invited -- something was offered that had piqued her interest. An actual explanation as to why Morgan was the way that Morgan was. At least… Why her blood looked like tar and her skin healed at a superhuman speed. She was ready for the vegan preaching, and now a little more prepared for a cyborg arm than she had been before. If you can see Krampus in a movie theater, I’m sure doctors can create a superhuman arm. “I mean, I’d love to know, but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she offered politely, even though she was practically crawling out of her skin with anticipation. “I think there’s a cafe near the entrance, if you wanna..?

Morgan glanced quickly at the cafe area and thought better of it. Too many people. If this went badly, she didn’t want to be the center of a scene. She looked around the gallery and found a relatively empty bench. Well, empty of living people. There was a rather large group of ghost pirates floating around a piece of a ship encased in glass. Morgan made her way toward them, making a face she hoped indicated that she wanted some privacy. The pirates, however, had been dead long enough to not care and just cleared the bench so no one would be sitting through their ghostly bodies.

Morgan shouldered off her jacket and sat very close to Dakota, who she pulled down with her. “So, last April I was kind of in an accident. There was this light malfunction and that caused this huge wreck and it was so fast there was debris everywhere. And I was um…” She winced, remembering. “I was on the sidewalk. I was supposed to go home after work, but I stopped for ice cream with my friend, at this little stand. And it was just some terrible Final Destination bullshit, but my foot was caught and I couldn’t run and then I was on the ground, and there was this…” That pole. That fucking pole of rebar. Morgan had seen it almost every night during those magic nightmares. She couldn’t talk about that, not without knowing how Dakota would take the truth. “It was really bad,” she said. “I don’t know what the best way to explain is, but you can track the….change in my pulse, my heartbeat.” She rolled up her sleeve and held out her wrist. “Will you see? Please?” Her voice trembled with trepidation. Already, she was scrambling to brace herself for the worst; trouble was, she didn’t really know what ‘worst’ looked like yet.

As Morgan ushered them over to a nearby bench, Dakota started to realize that maybe this was a bigger deal than just some blood disorder or bionic arm thing. Whatever it was, she still thought that Morgan would be a friend regardless, because you’re not friends with people just because their bodies function normally. Besides, even if it freaked her out, Morgan was the closest thing to a friend Dakota had ever had -- and she didn’t mean that lightly. Not when she’d grown up the outcast, and not when fitting in always felt like jamming a puzzle piece where it didn’t fit. As far as she was concerned, Morgan could admit she’d committed several murders and partook in some shady drug lord businesses and she’d probably still be her friend.

As they sat, and Morgan spoke about an accident, Dakota just listened. She was good at listening, but it was more of the “getting it” part she hadn’t mastered -- at least...not when it came to people. The accident she’d described seemed horrific enough. Something Dakota prayed to a God she didn’t believe in that would never happen to her. At first, she was confused as to why she needed to feel her pulse, but her voice trembled, and she could tell this was important to her, so.. She gave it a shot, even though she didn’t quite understand. Placing two fingers on her wrist, Dakota searched for her pulse. She tried several different spots, but she didn’t feel a single beat, and her skin was still ice cold. “So… You have a weak pulse? Because of the accident?” she asked.

“You have to hold it for longer than that,” Morgan hissed. “Here.” She took Dakota by the sleeve and pressed her hand over her heart, firmly, where it would’ve been easy for anyone to feel at least a faint impression of a heartbeat. Morgan held it, and held it, and held it. “I’m trying to tell you I don’t have one anymore,” she whispered. “But I’m trying to prove it to you first. You need to understand that this is real.” She drew in a deep breath (In. Hold. Out.) and made sure Dakota felt it. Her chest expanded, the air flowed, but only because she willed it consciously. There was nothing in her that regulated her existence, no internal rhythm to keep up. Her will and her steady feeding were the only things maintaining her existence. “You can try checking on my neck, you can ask me to hold my breath, whatever you feel like you need to do, but I am trying, very hard, to show you the truth.”

Maybe laughing was a knee-jerk response. Actually, she knew exactly why she started to laugh -- because people laugh when they need to project dignity and control during times of stress and anxiety. In situations like this one, right here and right now, when Dakota was confused on all fronts, and anxious because she knew the truth was that Morgan didn’t have a pulse, or a heartbeat, nor was there even the faintest thumb against the palm of her hand through her chest, her response was to laugh. If there was no pulse -- if there was no beat, no rhythm rattling around in her ribcage, then she must have been… She had to be… Dead. Right? People usually laugh in a subconscious attempt to reduce stress and calm down. However, for Dakota, it often works otherwise.

It took a few moments, but she retracted her hand as if recoiling from a hot flame, and stood up immediately. She didn’t know what to say, much less what to do. She could make a break for it and get the hell out of there, but that depended solely on whether or not her legs would move, because they felt made of lead at the moment. She could continue the awkward, anxious laughter that had first bubbled up but has since dissipated to breathing somewhat shallow, quick breaths. Her thoughts raced, so much so that her words wouldn’t come out, and when they finally did, she sputtered. “Am I -- Am I fucking crazy?”

Morgan let Dakota withdraw her hand and grabbed her jacket, started double checking her pockets and bags to make sure she wouldn’t leave anything behind when she made her hasty exit.

“Them’s the breaks,” One of the pirates said. “Head empty as prawns, these humans.”

“Yes, thank you,” Morgan hissed. He was trying to be comforting, but she didn’t want to hear any of it.

She didn’t meet Dakota’s eyes or look in her vicinity as the woman continued to laugh (laugh) deliriously at what she was being shown. “No, you’re not fucking crazy. What’s fucking crazy is having to spend most of my daylight hours pretending to be alive when I’m not. We don’t have to keep doing this. I can go. You can stay and enjoy the--whatever.”

Dakota realized Morgan was moving quickly, like she was ready to flee the scene of a terrible accident. Pun most definitely not intended. She swallowed thickly, trying to think of something to say, but nothing came, not for a few moments that felt like an eternity when Morgan was getting ready to run. “Morgan, wait, I --” she cut herself off, because she didn’t know what she was asking her to wait for. It was like her mind had shutdown, only functioning on the essentials. “I didn’t mean to -- I just -- I don’t -- It’s not possible, which means you’re a -- You’re dead, but that.. You’re...” she was probably sounding like a basket case at this point, and she decided at that moment to stand up a little straighter, brush the hair out of her eyes. “I… I’ve got to go.” And with that, she practically ran to her car, fired up the engine, and got the hell out of there.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘zombie’,” Morgan said, grumbled between Dakota’s desperate stutters for understanding. She was ready to run right there, but Dakota beat her to it, and she had just enough pride not to race her out of this stupid, stupid idea of an afternoon. Slowly, she pulled on her jacket and arranged her hair over the collar just so, and put on her scarf. There was no need to rush anymore and no one curious enough to see her furiously blink back the sting in her eyes and swallow the lump forming in her throat. “Fucking humans, am I right?” She rasped.

The ghosts agreed, but only in silence.

#alcoholism tw #car accident tw #domestic abuse tw #monsters of the museum #wr dakota #wr chatzy #wr dakota chatzy #wickedswriting

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