#for a class that was neither an art or a creative writing class

[ni-ien]

I haven’t drawn anything recently but I’m trying to pick up some old wip’s! 😭 in the meantime have the start of some yuri that I did for a class a few months ago :]

[headspace-hotel]

I've been able to neither read nor write stories in a long time. Poetry too, for the most part. I guess what I mean is that the art of the written word has become a stranger to me.

I hate what poetry classes did to my writing. Yes, the Wikipedia poems, but they are easier because they're not my own words, and I have gotten so many comments on those saying they are powerful pieces of art, but for me personally they're a way of hiding from the awfulness of trying to assemble my own words into poetry.

I hate the poems I wrote in poetry classes. I hate the version of me I showed others in those classes. I hate the way poetry classes taught me to draw from my own experiences and thoughts for poetry. I hate everything I learned about how to interpret poetry, the eye with which I learned to read poetry, and the vocabulary I learned to talk about poetry, and ultimately, I hate "literary" poetry.

"Literary," by the way, is the category of art that has more meaning, value and legitimacy than the "other" category, which is not "literary." A "literary" poem is published in special, fancy "literary" magazines and almost invariably written by a person with a MFA or PhD in poetry.

You could say that the distinguishing feature of "literary" art is its overwhelming sense of legitimacy. A "literary" poem is a poem in the same way that a nonprofit organization is charitable, that a CEO is rich, or that an SAT score demonstrates your academic prowess. It is a poem completely immune to the possibility that someone will think it sucks. It expects to be absorbed, analyzed, studied, and discoursed upon because something feels "official" about whatever designates it as Good Art.

Literary poems are not only written by and for a special subset of people that have been formally taught to read and interpret poetry, they are written exclusively for audiences that will automatically assume they are Good Art; beautiful, meaningful, and worth interpreting. Because of this, most literary poems are literal incomprehensible nonsense.

Just take this one:

Say I climb the ladder of wheat/and at the top there is a faucet dripping beads of water/but the water takes a year to turn into an eagle/and the sky's forty-three shades of gray pierce/the first inflection of my heart, the point where the signals/throw grass into the river. Say the river sags/and the horizon sucks the lance out of the ghost's hands/like the moment of being born, the point where a shadow's/tongue slides through the faultline./Grace. Sunlight, cherries.

(it continues like this)

And conceptually, I love art as collaboration between the creator and viewer, where abstract, indeterminate and murky things are forced to take shape through the participation of the viewer as they interpret and associate things that stand out to them in the work! The "aliveness" of art in the abyss between what the artist attempts to communicate and what the viewer feels is the coolest thing to me!

But this philosophy of art is incompatible with the idea that there is an elite category of art that is worthy of interpretation, analysis, and reverence. I can fuck around with this random word generator and get something that is roughly as meaningful as the above. I don't mean that as demeaning to the poem, I mean that I feel demeaned by the poem, because its linguistic play and experimentation is something that everybody can do, that everyone should try doing, but this poem has been designated as something exceptionally meaningful and worthy and its writer teaches writing at the University of Chicago. You can click through that website for hours and not find a single soul without a MFA or above in poetry or creative writing.

For me, the world of "literary" writing was like a room with a splatter of vomit across the floor that no one else would acknowledge. The ability to formally study poetry in college was a privilege, but I was constantly aware of privilege, and the thing about privilege is the more you have, the less you think about it. What of the ability to pursue a PhD in poetry? What small fraction of people could expend so much time and money on something that didn't really have a career associated with it? And of that fraction, which fraction would be seen as "good enough" to publish poetry books and to teach? With poetry this indeterminate, how were the "good" poets selected at all?

Literary writing excludes poor people, and the existence of published literary poets who are immigrants or minorities doesn't negate this. Increasingly, published writing in general excludes poor people. A LOT of popular authors graduated from very elite schools!

But literary poetry I hate especially, because it puffs itself up on unlocking the universe and human experience and pain, as if insight into those things is a seldom-appearing gift instead of something many people have, except they don't have the time and money to train themselves into expressing it in a way that appears Literary.

The "literary" vs. "non-literary" paradigm had an inescapable rottenness to it. I couldn't stop thinking about the luminous conversations I'd had with people who lacked the formal training to express ideas in a "literary" manner, but still showed me something vital about the universe.

I've been bitching about literary poetry for like two years now, and really, I just hate what studying all that shit has done to my own writing style. It's so frustrating that the joy and playfulness won't come back.

[kisses-soft-like-sunshine]

Would you? - Oneshot

Fluff w angst, Han x fem!reader, best friends, Uni AU, both are clueless idiots, 1.5k words. Content warning: none.

Han Jisung was the first friend you made at university. You were not in the same major but the few classes you shared brought the two of you together. Art museum visits and creative writing assignments had led to the blooming of a close friendship like you had never had. You could tell each other everything and anything. You could trust each other and read each other like an open book. It was strange how someone who once had been a stranger two years ago was now a kindred spirit you could not fathom not having in your life, but neither of you questioned it.

This year was your third and last. You shared less classes together, and you felt isolated from the peers you had in the courses you went alone. Yet Han being by your side was enough to make it all go away. He was different, though. Giddier than usual, almost on edge. You would have brushed it off as stress from the upcoming exams but you knew him well enough to understand. He had a crush, which wasn’t unusual. The weird part is, he told you nothing about that person. The weirder part is how irritated you were, seeing him so flustered and silly. You had always been the first to tease him mercilessly when it came to this, giggling along whatever nonsensical plan you’d both come up with to help him out. It rarely landed anywhere. He was popular, you knew that since you often passed him with groups of people you knew nothing of, but his flings rarely lasted.

You were supposed to meet him at his place tonight, having to work on an essay together. You were anxious and you hated yourself for it. You didn’t understand why you were behaving like this. No, you didn’t want to understand. Your voice was nesting in your throat as you made your way up the stairs. You were always so comfortable around each other, why did you have to make it like this? You even started to avoid him. He didn’t seem to notice… You sighed before knocking on his door, hoping the bird in your throat would soon take flight and not choke you with its feathers.

“Hi Y/N!” he said, cheerfully welcoming you to his familiar home. 

“Hey” you said, your voice muffled with detachment. Keep it together. You perked up your lips into a fake smile so as not to raise any suspicion.

You dropped your stuff by the door, hanging your coat next to his, and made your way to the sofa. His computer and notes were scattered all over the coffee table. You sank in the cushions trying to find some sense of comfort. You picked the computer and sat it on your lap, intended on focusing on work instead of him. But his fidgeting behind you was plucking at your ears like the faint whisper of a confession in a quiet church. It was enough to rile you up but you kept your cool. Whatever was going on with you, with him, you weren’t willing to sacrifice your friendship for the sake of your anger being released. What were you even angry about? You let out a pointless sigh.

“So… Do you want something to drink? Coffee?” he asked from his open kitchen.

“Sure.” you answered, still focused on your shared assignment.

You could hear him hum as he poured water in the kettle. As much as you wanted to focus, you couldn’t help but follow his every move. You didn’t like it when your heart commanded your brain. He moved to a large cabinet where he stored his record collection. He carried on a tune while musing through the albums and singles. Get it over with, dude! You were being mean to you both now. It made you feel pathetic. He finally put on one of your favorite EPs. Soft, melodic sounds filled the room allowing you to quiet your mind a little. He was still restlessly pacing behind you when you decided to break the silence.

“What’s with you these days?” you said, a grin softening your blank expression. Yet, you did not turn to him.

“Me? What do you mean?” He was acting like you were both fools but it was part of your little games. You chuckled and shook your head, his bright smile piercing through it. You were right.

“Oh, I don’t know… You’ve been especially agitated and erratic these days. Well, more than usual at least.”

“Hey!” he shouted, amused. You weren’t as much.

“So what’s their name?” you asked, your heart sinking at the bottom of you.

“Ah… Is it that obvious?” he giggled faintly and you could feel yourself shiver. He’s too cute. 

“Yeah, I mean, for me it is. But if I’m being honest here, you probably look like a mad dog to other people.” You teased him and the kettle whistled as though it was laughing with you.

He went to prep your coffees and set the cups in front of you once he was done. You couldn’t help but avoid looking at him, pretending to be absorbed in whatever it was you were supposed to work on tonight. He sat next to you, further than he normally would. You wondered if he could feel the tension you had brought with you and you felt guilt coating it.

“I’m not even sure she likes me that way anyway…” he exhaled.

“Why wouldn’t she?” you reassured him, still entertaining the pestering you shared.

“It’s complicated…”

“It really isn’t.” Was your patient wearing thin, or was it hope? You resented your voice for giving in to the feeling.

“Would you?” he asked, his tone both serious and coy.

“Would I what? Ask her out for you? I mean, sure, but you’re a little old for that.” 

Your mockerie had turned into a coping mechanism more than a game for two. The record scratched in the background, signaling the last song had ended. He stood up to put the needle to the side. 

“Would you like me that way?” he said, approaching you in silence. He wasn’t playing but you felt like you had lost regardless. His voice was too sweet, painted by a saccharine rhythm. 

“You’re being mean, Jisung.”

“What do you mean?” he chuckled lightly above your ear, his elbows burrowed in the cushiony top of the sofa. You felt shivers grow all over your skin. You swiftly turned to him, locking your eyes into his, making him realize you had not looked at him directly all evening. He blinked, flustered and confused. Your face was unreadable, which you made sure of, but your stare was so straightforward. 

“I’m not just some girl you can play pretend with whenever you feel like it. I have feelings too.” You gave in to the frustration.

“I know that.”

“Do you?” The fire in your eyes held his captive. You only turned your back on him when you felt tears bubbling up.

“I’m sorry.” He could tell you were hurt and didn’t know what else to say. Instead of words, he sat back next to you, closer this time. Your thoughts were thick as morning fog. He was looking down at his hand before carefully toying with your fingers laying on the sofa. You gingerly looked at what he was doing, caving in and offering your hand to him. He slowly traced the lines on your palm before intertwining his fingers with yours. You felt a burning heat grow from the depth your heart had sunk.

“I supposed it wasn’t that obvious…” he said, breaking the silent tension. Your eyes met with his, kind and glowing. He looked so soft in the evening light.

“I’m sorry I behaved like this. I think I was… jealous” you confessed at last.

“I know. I know you.” he said, smiling tenderly. “Better than myself, better than anyone, really.” You both stayed quietly in the presence of the other. You felt comfortable again. The realization hit you and you flew into his arms. He closed his eyes as your smell embraced his face. You were like honey to him, sweet and bitter, rich and simple. He loved every bit of it. Why would he ever want anything else? You caressed the side of his face with yours, feeling the warmth of his skin melt into yours. Your lips found the plump redness of his cheeks with ease. You peppered him with little kisses, mushy and intoxicating. One on the tip of his nose, one below his left eye, one under his right ear, one right next to his tender lips. He gently tucked your face with his hands as you left the last one, and delicately kissed your lips. You could swear the sofa was floating. You both smiled as he let go. You felt yourself relax in his arms as he held you close, leaning on the sofa. Not much work was done that evening but, God, the denouement was worth any consequences.

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

I woke up this morning and saw I had a message in my inbox on AO3, presumably about by new fic, and was excited to see the feedback.

When I read what they wrote it was a small comment that said "stop using sudowrite".

Had no idea what that even means, so I had to look it up and found out it's some form of a writing AI.

Absolutely fuming.

I want to make something abundantly clear right now:

I have not been hand writing and editing all of my own stories, hundreds of pages worth of personally hand written or hand typed content for the past 16 years, only to get accused of using any form of lazy ass writing AI now.

This is what I love to do. For fun.

I put in a lot of unpaid time, creativity and energy into my writing and editing. The only thing I ask for in return is participation from the fandoms I love, be it via thoughtful feedback or valid criticisms.

But this is neither of those things. This is just an outright, baseless lie against the art that I have worked so hard to make myself, and I won't be undermined or discredited.

There's anger, and then there's whatever space I am occupying well past it right now.

It's infuriating to pour hours of my love, thought and creativity into original content only to have someone come out of nowhere and try to tell me I've been having an AI do it, especially 16 years deep.

Bitch please.

I also found out that app came out in 2020 . . . As I mentioned, I published my first K/S story in 2008 as Ruby JW on the K/S archives, and my first fanfic on fanfic.net was published in 2007 as luigi_is_stellar.

I invite anyone to peruse my decades-long collection of independent content that I have single-handedly accomplished well before such an app even existed, then come back to me and try to tell me that what I do here isn't authentic.

I don't usually get spicy, but when it comes to the art I spend hours writing and drawing independently with my own blood sweat and tears, yeah. I'm going to get spicy.

I do far too much unpaid work out of passion and love for this fandom to have such a serious accusation flung my way out of nowhere.

It's the first time in my 16 years of writing for this fandom that I've ever been accused of plagiarism, and you best trust and believe that I don't take that accusation lightly. I work too damn hard to let someone discredit the work I do personally in such a baseless manner.

Anyway, that was discouraging AF. I am boggled to learn that AI writing is even a thing, no less someone coming out of the woodwork to try to accuse me of using it 16 years into story publishing when I literally teach academic honesty and writing ethics in my line of paid work as an English professional.

Genuinely: Do you know who you're talking to?

A bit of background on me:

I come from a not-so-wealthy family who could not afford to pay to put me through school -- I paid for that all on my own. I had to earn my University English degree, one of four University degrees I hold on my own work and pay alone, without so much as a tutoring session or handout from home.

Not once would I have jeopardized everything I worked so hard and paid for out of my own pocket as a poor ass uni student working two jobs and doing night classes just to phone it in plagiarizing, not on one ounce of my work.

That was all me.

I've handwritten 3 MLA essays in under three hour exams BACK TO BACK, immediately followed by back-to-back Biology exams & a final lab where I ALSO had to write multiple essays and switch from MLA to APA mode within the span of 6 hours.

Those were all bound in handwritten yellow booklets well before we ever had Google Docs, Grammarly, formatting suggestions, or even regularly brought/had access to laptops in UNI. I did my work by hand.

I earned my degrees in English and Biology AT THE SAME TIME before I even turned 24. I earned a double major handwriting my own work papers like my life depended on it, and you actually think I'm about to phone it in now?

Step to me like that again, young blood. I ain't the one.😂

Anyway, I digress.

Ya girl ain't here to fight BC y'all know I tend to be very easygoing, full of humour, and I love to joke around in the fandom. I'm pretty wide open to opposing opinions or even criticisms. But this is unfounded slander, and I won't be taking that on the chin.

When it comes to my work, I take that very seriously, and I don't play around. My late father once told me that "The work you do and the degrees you earn are yours and yours alone, they can never take that education from you." I live by that sentiment, and have done so by putting forth honest work.

Be it paid or unpaid work, it's my work. Periodt.

It is an unfathomably disheartening and insulting message to receive as someone who writes all their own stuff themselves, draws all their own fanart themselves, does their own photo edits themselves, edits their writing themselves, and has never even used so much as a single outside beta reader/editor for my work. Not once. The art, the writing, the editing -- It's all me.

Bottom line:

Say you do or don't like my work, that's cash money and we good, whether it's your cup of tea or not.

Butt know that it is my work.

I will not put all of this free time, effort and love into my work only to be accused of lazily ripping the content that I have spent hours writing and personally editing from somewhere else.

And on that note, consider my PSA rant ended.

[corvus--rex]

Lance and Keith started dating early in high school, even before Keith came out and started his transition, and it's now just after college and they're engaged. They've been with Lance's family for the day, Sylvio and Nadia included.

The kids are 6 and 4 and have known Keith literally their entire lives. They were too young during various stages to understand what was going on, but they both know Keith's trans.

Needing a break, Keith is curled up against Lance in the living room, while Sylvio and Nadia are sprawled on the floor with a book each. Nadia's only just learning to read, but she already loves books. She's turning the pages, mostly looking at the pictures, when she looks up, interrupting Keith and Lance's quiet conversation.

"Tío Keef, why aren't there families in my stories like ours?"

It's been about 15 years since he's read a kids' book and doesn't understand where's she's going with this. "What do you mean, munchkin?"

Nadia puts her book down, turning to face him in all the seriousness a 4 year old can muster. "They all have a mami and a papi, but not - not -" her face scrunches as she tries to find the right word.

She doesn't need to find the right word, the realization of what she's asking hits him at full force. He sits up, leaning forward to meet her eyes. "You wanna know why there isn't anyone like me?"

She nods. "It's not fair."

It's an innocent question, but she asked it with such naive sincerity, genuinely upset that she didn't see her own family in her favorite books. It gave Keith an idea. He had a new sketchbook in the backseat of his car, a very recent art degree, and the few creative writing classes he'd taken.

Nadia's books didn't have her family in their pages, but maybe they could.

"Y'know what? I'll be right back."

He ran out to his car and back with the sketchbook, plus the mechanical pencil and ballpoint pen from his bag, and sat down on the floor with her, meeting Lance's confused look asking what the hell he was doing with one that said "trust me".

"Ok, munchkin," he said to Nadia, "If your stories don't have our family in them, how about we make a new story?"

Nadia's face lit up. "We can make a new one? With our kind of family in it?"

"We can, but I'll need your help."

Sylvio was pretending to read his own book, but Lance could see him listening in and sneaking looks at the rough sketches. That didn't last long, the book quickly forgotten in favor of throwing out wilder and wilder ideas for the story with Keith gently reeling him in. Sylvio was not one to be reeled in, and Lance soon joined them on the floor to help wrangle the kids' enthusiasm. They stayed there for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, neither one wanting to leave when their parents came to tell them it was time to go. They only stopped fighting it when Keith promised them they'd work on the story again.

He kept that promise, taking the kids out every few weeks, showing them what he'd done in between when he had time, and them continuing the story and illustrations.

After it was finished, he left it for a while, not forgotten, but resting. Eventually, he pulled the illustrations and their companion sheets of text from the shoebox-like storage box he'd gotten just for this, matching art to words.

Lance came home from work to their apartment that evening to find Keith on the living room floor, bristol board and printer paper in an organized chaos around him.

"Think it's really done?" Lance asked.

Keith sighed and leaned back against the sofa. There was one thing about the book he hadn't told anyone yet, but after the email he'd gotten earlier in the day, he finally could.

"Yeah I do." He paused and looked up, a little bit guilty, but mostly trying to contain excitement. "I found a publisher for it. They're a queer-owned company. I actually sent it off about a month ago and I finally heard back today. They love it."

It had started as a picture book, but evolved since then into something a little bigger. Nadia wanted cats - all different colors, and not little kitties, no she wanted lions. And the lions had to have knights to ride on them. Sylvio was the one to insist on a princess and that she had to be their honorary Tía Allura. Gradually, all of the knights and princess ended up based on people the kids knew, Keith and Lance included. It made sense and Keith loved it and the idea of family including the one you make for yourself.

When it came time for a name for this story of found family and adventures, Sylvio yelled "Defenders of the UNIVERSE!" at the top of his lungs in the middle of the park. Nadia had been taking a break from the playground, sitting next to Keith with her coloring pad. She'd drawn the lions from their story, facing out in a vaguely star shape, their tails meeting in the middle.

Keith asked for her opinion on a story name and also what she was drawing and without looking up from her coloring, she said "Its name is Voltron."

Keith put the two together, and when the book was published, its cover was the lions Nadia had drawn that day, only by Keith's hand this time, framed on top and bottom by the book's name: Defenders of The Universe, a Voltron story.

No one had seen the dedication, not until Keith got the advance copies, giving one each to Sylvio and Nadia in the same living room the story had started in. Nadia climbed into Keith's lap with it, Sylvio squeezing himself in between Keith and Lance on the sofa.

Looking over Sylvio's shoulder, Lance read it aloud.

"For Sylvio and Nadia, the original Defenders, this book wouldn't exist without you. Don't stop reading or dreaming."

[what-even-is-thiss]

If you’re debating whether or not to get an MFA in writing here’s some points of interest from my experience.

If your only goal is to get published you don’t need the degree if you don’t want it. There’s ways to meet people and contact agents and self publish outside of the types of connections and knowledge you’ll get from a masters degree

If you want to teach creative writing in North America it’s technically possible to get a job without a masters but it’s extremely difficult. There’s also usually an opportunity to get practical teaching experience in the MFA program.

It’s difficult to get in these programs because the classes are usually really tiny. My program only admits 6 people a year. It’s also expensive to apply but once you get in they usually have funding available to you through work.

Making connections with other writers is a huge reason to get in a writing program. You often get the opportunity to meet visiting writers in addition to your classmates and professors. Socializing with people is actually a really important part of most arts educations. It gives you a support system of people in the industry and some people to hopefully write blurbs for your books

A lot of the work done in academia is literary writing. There’s still a potential place for you if you write genre fiction and people will likely support you in that but it’s an important thing to keep in mind.

Some schools might try to push you towards adapting a particular sort of style or mostly pick people or have faculty with a certain style. Other schools will generally have a more diverse array of types of writers and not have a distinctive style. Neither of these things is inherently better but it is something to think about when asking questions and investigating. I purposefully applied to schools with diverse and different types of work coming out of them.

If you just want a degree or don’t want to move a low residency MFA is probably the choice for you. Those are mostly online and you generally visit campus in person once or twice a year. High residency MFAs are the ones where you live and work there and are a full time student. These are generally either one or two year programs. The length of program you want depends on you and what you want out of the program. I chose a three year program because I wanted to take more classes.

You get a lot of unstructured time to write even when you’re working. If that’s important to you it might be a good place to figure out your process. It’s a lot of work but you usually decide how much you get out of it and how much work you get done.

You may be expected to teach or TA classes, give public readings of your work, or give presentations to your classes. It’s not a degree free of public speaking.

If you want to get experience in publishing a lot of masters programs run literary magazines or have relationships with local magazines and publishers you can get involved with. If you’re interested in this that’s something to look into when deciding what schools to apply to

[hoursofreading]

He'd been having trouble with students who had nothing to say. At first he thought it was laziness but later it became apparent that it wasn't. They just couldn't think of anything to say. One of them, a girl with strong-lensed glasses, wanted to write a five-hundredword essay about the United States. He was used to the sinking feeling that comes from statements like this, and suggested without disparagement that she narrow it down to just Bozeman. When the paper came due she didn't have it and was quite upset. She had tried and tried but she just couldn't think of anything to say. He had already discussed her with her previous instructors and they'd confirmed his impressions of her. She was very serious, disciplined and hardworking, but extremely dull. Not a spark of creativity in her anywhere. Her eyes, behind the thick-lensed glasses, were the eyes of a drudge. She wasn't bluffing him, she really couldn't think of anything to say, and was upset by her inability to do as she was told. It just stumped him. Now he couldn't think of anything to say. A silence occurred, and then a peculiar answer: "Narrow it down to the main street of Bozeman." It was a stroke of insight. She nodded dutifully and went out. But just before her next class she came back in real distress, tears this time, distress that had obviously been there for a long time. She still couldn't think of anything to say, and couldn't understand why, if she couldn't think of anything about all of Bozeman, she should be able to think of something about just one street. He was furious. "You're not looking!" he said. A memory came back of his own dismissal from the University for having too much to say. For every fact there is an infinity of hypotheses. The more you look the more you see. She really wasn't looking and yet somehow didn't understand this. He told her angrily, "Narrow it down to the front of one building on the main street of Bozeman. The Opera House. Start with the upper left-hand brick." Her eyes, behind the thick-lensed glasses, opened wide. She came in the next class with a puzzled look and handed him a five- thousand-word essay on the front of the Opera House on the main street of Bozeman, Montana. "I sat in the hamburger stand across the street," she said, "and started writing about the first brick, and the second brick, and then by the third brick it all started to come and I couldn't stop. They thought I was crazy, and they kept kidding me, but here it all is. I don't understand it." Neither did he, but on long walks through the streets of town he thought about it and concluded she was evidently stopped with the same kind of blockage that had paralyzed him on his first day of teaching. She was blocked because she was trying to repeat, in her writing, things she had already heard, just as on the first day he had tried to repeat things he had already decided to say. She couldn't think of anything to write about Bozeman because she couldn't recall anything she had heard worth repeating. She was strangely unaware that she could look and see freshly for herself, as she wrote, without primary regard for what had been said before. The narrowing down to one brick destroyed the blockage because it was so obvious she had to do some original and direct seeing

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

[hpowellsmith]

Do you think a degree is a good place to start to get into the narrative designer scene? I don't have any sort of degrees and whenever I look at job postings it kind of intimidates me.

You don't necessarily need a game design degree. There isn't a single route into getting a narrative design job and most of the narrative people I've worked with have academic experience in other areas. Classics, publishing, linguistics, screenwriting (and other kinds of writing), film, literature, teaching, computer science, biomedical science, history, and philosophy are all things that come to mind off the top of my head. I personally have an English Literature bachelor's degree and a postgrad teaching certificate.

I do know a few narrative people with game design degrees and they speak highly of that experience - but it isn't essential and there's some ambivalence in the field of games about how much value you get from it. It would really depend on where you were attending and who was teaching it, and so on. Do research the lecturers and their industry experience before signing up to anything!

A lot of narrative jobs will require some sort of degree. Not all! But many will explicitly. Then, more trickily, there's the implicitness of it all: it's rare that I've encountered a narrative person at a studio who doesn't have a degree, and among many other things that's a marker of the lack of class diversity in the field.

That said: a degree is unlikely to directly help you get a narrative job unless it's very specific (eg you're an expert in the Franklin expedition, and the game is about trying to rescue the ships). It will more give you transferable skills. My PGCE helped me learn to deliver presentations and pitches. My English degree helped me discuss art. My PGCE taught me about being rigorous about developing skills and assessing where I'm at and taking feedback. My English degree pushed me to read widely. But none of that fed directly into getting a job in games - when I graduated from my undergrad degree I didn't know how games jobs worked anyway and neither did my career advisors.

Whether or not you have a degree, you need to have examples of your skills and how you've applied them to your work. If you've had jobs in other areas, you can refer to that - you're great at spotting data entry errors? fantastic. you can meditate an argument between a group of crying five year olds? great. And most of all you need completed examples of your writing and your games work for your portfolio. It doesn't have to be massive ambitious projects, but you need to prove that you know how games fit together, what makes them feel good or not good to play, and can apply it to your own work.

Make interactive fiction. Make a small game, or a bigger game, in bitsy. Join a game jam and work with other people on something - that will give you something to talk about in interviews, and teach you about working with other people on a creative project. Finish things! Not only will that give you more to discuss, it will also mean that you have a better sense of the bigger picture of interactive storytelling. I got my first studio job off the back of years of short hobby IF and a completed CoG game; I brought skills from my studies but I wouldn't have got a foot in the door without those projects to show that I could write well, understood narrative design, and could finish games.

Some unsolicited advice:

Be cautious about expensive game writing courses. They can be valuable for networking and pushing your to be rigorous about your work, or they can be a money sink. Remember that in 99% of "dream studios" there will be people working there for whom it's a nightmare. Don't put people on pedestals and remember that studio games are a team effort - but also respect and celebrate your own contributions. Don't dunk on games in public: I've seen a lot of people do that and then turn around and ask for a job from the people they were dunking on. It doesn't make people inclined to say yes. Don't neglect your peers in favour of trying to get in with a crowd that's already established; but if trusted people offer mentorship (such as Limit Break in the UK) go for it. When you are one of those established people, don't pull up the ladder behind you.

Here is a doc of resources from Raymond Vermeulen and another from Adanna aka AFNarratives. Also there are a ton of free talks available from AdventureX, Narrascope, Writer's Guild of Great Britain, and the GDC Vault about narrative which are both interesting and useful.

None of this is any guarantee of anything, there are a lot of people competing for not many jobs and if you find someone selling One Weird Trick to get into the field of narrative design, avoid them. I've seen talented people with a lot of experience struggling to find another contract after one has ended. So I don't want to act like I have it all figured out - but I hope it's helpful.

[chameleonspell]

HTDC commentary - 17: VCDRKAA & 18: language & 19: knowledge & 20: again

[Looking back at HTDC after nearly ten years: comments on lore, character notes, influences, art, whatever. May contain spoilers for later chapters.]

chapter text: 17: VCDRKAA & 18: language & 19: knowledge & 20: again

I hope no one was expecting a line-by line complex exegesis of chapter 17, because I generated a wall of TEXTSLOP. It was never intended to mean anything specific, although I did edit it selectively, for poetry and interest. I didn't really expect anyone to read it, I just wanted them to open the chapter and go "what the fuck is this shit??"

I think I used this page to generate it, which must be twenty years old, at the absolute minimum, and the code is from the 1990s. It's beyond irritating that Markov chain text generators, along with other venerable methods of cut-up and creative mixology, are probably now tarred with the same brush as bullshit like chatGPT. Anyway, you could call it a Small Language Model, in that it only uses the text you put into it, doesn't steal it to do plagiarism, and doesn't require the energy and water usage of a small country to run.

I... had totally forgotten which texts I put into it, and had to spend way too long cross-checking fragments. All I remembered was that the nonsense-title of the chapter was taken from the title-letters of the input books, and it was supposed to be things Iriel had recently encountered, to represent a chaotic vomiting of his subconscious.

I think it's this:

V = 36 Lessons of Vivec

C = Chimarvamidium

D = The Book of Dawn and Dusk

R = A Less Rude Song

K = The Ruins of Kemel-Ze

A = Song of the Alchemists

A = Words of Clan Mother Ahnissi

...but I'm pretty sure there's also Special Flora of Tamriel there, in an uncredited role. I don't think that, or Song of the Alchemists is mentioned as something Iriel reads in-fic, but since Ire's an alchemist, I shovelled them into the word-hopper, too. I suspect I never noticed at the time that Song of the Alchemists is not an alchemical textbook, but silly Marobar Sul doggerel, and not exactly something Iriel would read.

Anyway, please do go ahead and cancel me for "writing fic with AI".

Playlist pick: Of Montreal - Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse. For when you really, really need the drugs to work. Or something to work. Anything. It's all just chemicals, right? C'MON, CHEMICALS!

Once we're done with the psychedelic breakdown, we have a temptation scene, specifically, Iriel wakes up in a wizard's bed, and barely resists intellectual seduction by House Telvanni.

The mage laid the book across the bed and opened it, revealing page after page of writing in Dwemer script.

Neither of them can read it yet, but the book is Divine Metaphysics, one of the three books you need to solve Trebonius' Dwemer mystery quest.

He sighed, and turned another page, revealing a complicated diagram of… Iriel wasn’t sure, but he was interested enough to sit up fully, and examine it. “Chimarvamidium,” he said, eventually.

Iriel is reacting to the diagram in the book of an anthropoid Dwemer construct, a theme that also occurs in Chimarvamidium. The picture under his nose is almost certainly Numidium, something he should be at least theoretically aware of. Tiber Septim used it to conquer Summerset in the Second Era, within living memory of older Altmer, and if Ire wasn't concentrating in history class, he was fourteen years old at the time of The Warp in The West. Admittedly, the giant robot was stomping about in Daggerfall, by then (so no trying to claim it had any weird effects on Ire's developing psyche!), and perhaps even a Dragon Break was barely a blip on his radar, compared to the horrors of being a teenager in Lillandril. Either way, Ire misses the obvious fact about the picture, and makes a more remote connection, something Baladas takes as evidence of a subtler, more esoteric intellectual approach, when it's actually far more to do with:

“I’m sorry. I think I’m still sssomewhat under the effects of an Imperial fuckton of skooma.

Iriel was previously only ever doing moon sugar. Skooma is much, much stronger, more addictive, and, for a magic-sensitive Altmer, extremely psychoactive and hallucination-inducing. He also drank two bottles, straight. Skooma is a liquid, and can be drunk, but is more commonly smoked (inhaled as a vapour?) through a pipe. I am assuming that smoking is the preferred method because the effects are slow and gentle, whereas drinking it is extremely neither of those things.

Yes, fine, the line about skooma being like "eight hundred orgasms tied to a brick" is an echo of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy description of the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster cocktail as being "like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick". NO that is NOT a pop culture reference, that's just me stealing shit, which is totally different okay?

“Was that a Daedroth back there?”

Baladas keep a pet Daedroth. Wait... is it a pet? Are they sentient? Some of them are named, and have relationships to other characters that could imply they were intelligent. But... hmm. Dangerous tangent. Let's assume it's just a pet, yeah?

“It’s adorable! What’s its name?” Ire poked it, giggling in delight as it contracted its metal limbs back into its shell.

Again. Please let the record show that the first time Iriel interacted closely with a non-hostile Dwemer automaton, he was overcome with nothing more lascivious or sinister than childlike glee and wonder. You filthy animals.

Poor little centurion, does your daddy not even care enough to–”

He did indirectly call a Telvanni wizard "daddy", though. I can't really defend him from that one, since I'm pretty sure he knew exactly what he was doing*. And so did Baladas, because he shut that bullshit down FAST.

(* exactly what he was doing = being very silly and no-filter. Iriel is not actually looking to get "mentored" by a much older wizard, even if he could find one more interested in doing it.)

“The miners report that a screaming, semi-transparent Altmer, covered in weeds and soaking wet, broke into the eggmine from the lower levels.

This whole bit is confusing, and I don't like it. It's not funny, and it really doesn't matter about the stupid route Iriel took to end up with the book on Baladas' doorstep. But yes, you can get into the Gnisis eggmine via the riverbed outside town, and from there, into the Dwemer ruin and back. If he knew, Iriel would feel smug about the fact Edwinna would have tried to make him go there, on purpose, later, if she hadn't expelled him by then.

“Auri-El, what did you do to them?” Ire had heard about Telvanni methods.

While he hasn't encountered many Telvanni in Morrowind, he would have read things like this, in which Telvanni mages are notorious for being fans of inventive magical torture.

Iriel knew the score. Baladas Demnevanni was a serious Dwemer scholar, [...] He could make far better use of it than Ire ever would. And yet, something in Iriel resisted.

Iriel does know the score, and part of the score that he knows is: while Baladas is much older and more powerful, he's not technically Iriel's senior. Because Ire's not in House Telvanni, or any other structure that makes him Demnevanni's subordinate. Which Ire leaves free to resist. Sure, Baladas could take the book by magical force, but Iriel has enough pride to want to force him to do that, to not capitulate based purely on academic bluster. (Yes, of course Iriel can have a powerful and resilient scholarly ego, while simultaneously having zero self esteem. You've met academics, right?)

“It’s mine,” he said. “I found it. And I never asked you to take care of me.”

Saying this feels good. It's true: he didn't ask to be taken care of. And Baladas' reasons for doing so are cleanly self-interested, and make perfect sense to Ire. There's no messy pity involved, no need to spare the feelings of someone who thought they were being a good person, when you're too bitter and damaged to be grateful. This whole conversation is, in many ways, Iriel's ideal type of social interaction.

I will give you information about the location of Dwemer ruins on Vvardenfell, and in return, you will bring me any more books that you find there.”

The location of known Dwemer ruins on Vvardenfell is not, at this point in time, especially secret information, so Baladas is rather getting the better end of this deal. But if he wasn't, he wouldn't be making it, would he?

The only people qualified are my fellow mages, but Telvanni do not co-operate. Anything they found, they would keep for themselves.

His reasoning checks out, though, so Iriel is inclined to trust him. I really did think Ire would take him the other books at some point, and Ire himself intended to at various points, but... in the end, things got complicated. Iriel comes back to Gnisis, but not to Arvs Drelen, and he keeps all his findings to himself.

“Sweet Mara, no. I just want to be left alone to read.”

“You have just spoken the unofficial motto of House Telvanni.

The problem, I suppose, is that Ire is entirely too Telvanni at heart. It was always touch-and-go, as to whether he'd find an excuse to join the House. After all, he's perfect for it... but that's exactly why he resisted.

Iriel knows he's an obsessive, isolationist weirdo, who's probably going to end up alone in a tower, reading esoterically taboo books all day. Surrounded by robots and summoned Daedra, because that's the only level of social contact he's capable of tolerating. He knows all that, he knows exactly the sort of person he is. He just doesn't like that person. And when Telvanni start tempting him to fully embrace weird hermit mage life, he's forcefully reminded of what Telvanni are known for, and how isolating yourself with only Daedra for company makes you lose all contact with pedestrian concepts like "morality", and "not torturing people to death with lightning spells".

Clearly, Ire's being ridiculous to think his own morality is so fragile, but after the day he's had, he's feeling fragile in all sorts of ways, and unwilling to trust his own limits.

each mage seeks only solitude and freedom to continue his or her work.” [...] “Knowledge may be power,” he was declaiming, “but for some of us, it is enough that knowledge is knowledge.

And Ire's right to question the actual content of Baladas' rhetorical  flourishes: freedom to do what? Power to do what? Knowledge of what? Doesn't it matter? The Telvanni answer certainly seems to be "no". But Ire's experiences with education have left him questioning the value of the "knowledge" he obtained. Certainly, if he was supposed to convert it into power, he appears to have missed a crucial step in the process. He's not sure he wants Telvanni instruction, for taking that step.

He stood up, and began to concentrate a sphere of magicka between his hands. “Where should I send you?”

I have a question about teleportation. What are the rules? Guild guides only transport people to other guild halls, but is that restriction due to rules, or ability? UESP says that guides "maintain magical contact with their counterparts in other branches", but I can't find an ingame source for this. If true, that would explain the restriction, but I'm not sure I buy it. It's possible for a guild guide to send you into a guildhall where the "receiving" guild guide is no longer there, for example during this quest. And the mage who sends you to Mournhold in the Tribunal expansion isn't a guild guide, but sends you as a favour, since she's a "powerful mage".

So: my theory is that it's totally possible for a skilled mage to teleport people to other locations without another linked mage "catching" them, but the right location helps. Receiving chambers are magically set up in guildhalls to act as teleportation beacons, and that's the focus, rather than the other guide. This fits with how Divine and Almsivi Intervention work, not to mention Mark and Recall. Guild guides are trained to be specially attuned to these beacons, but any sufficiently powerful Mysticism expert can sling people into them, as Baladas does, here. Really powerful ones might not even need beacons, though I imagine there are exponential risks to the subject, as the location gets more distant and/or unfamiliar.

So, because it's theoretically possible, if difficult, I also think there are strict rules about where guild guides can send people, just like you can't ask the bus driver to take you anywhere you want, even if he technically could. Because teleportation would have to be a highly regulated skill! You can't just send people anywhere, that could cause all sorts of trouble.

As an aside, every guild guide in Morrowind is a beautiful woman. There's something a bit retro air stewardess about that, isn't there? Male game devs thinking women should be in travel service roles, or something? Hmm.

“Um… Ald'ruhn, please. The Mages’ Guild, for preference, but as long as you don’t teleport me inside a wall, I’ll be happy.”

Iriel's not keen to launch into his Queer Coded Villain arc, yet. So despite Baladas' blandishments, it's back to the loving arms of the Mages' Guild, for now.

“I want you to know,” Edwinna was saying, “that this is not about the Dwemer tube.

...Ah. Never mind.

“Whilst you were gone, some disturbing information came to light. When I agreed to mentor you, I was unaware of the crimes for which you were convicted in Cyrodiil. I’m sure you understand why the theft of magical artifacts is not something I can simply ignore.”

I realised something really funny just now, which is that if Edwinna has been digging into Iriel's background check, presumably through a contact at the Arcane University, then she must know Iriel is also supposed to have straight-up murdered one of his professors. But that's not what's bothering her at all!

“In addition, there is the matter of your drug abuse.

I can only assume that when Iriel took a little too long returning with the Dwemer tube, she couldn't resist the temptation to go through his bedroom. In her ensuing freak-out at finding DRUGS, it emerged that no one had ever actually looked into the squirrelly-looking Altmer's claim on application that he'd studied at the Arcane University.

Ire stopped recasting the Paralyze spell on himself

I was determined to try and find creative ways to use Illusion spells, and to some extent, that was the motive for this whole scene.

He had fully expected to burst into tears as soon as he was alone, possibly sooner, but instead, he found himself gripped by a cold fury.

So, I had planned to get Iriel expelled for a while, and originally I, like Iriel himself,  assumed that he would be devastated, because the number of times he's got himself kicked out of magical institutions is ridiculous at this point. But coming right off the conversation with Baladas, that wasn't where his head was at, at all. He was furious, and when a character gives you the gift of an unexpected emotional reaction, you always gotta lean into it, because it's one of my favourite things about writing. Iriel's vitriolic contempt for the Mages' Guild (and Edwinna Elbert in particular) gave him the motivation to do all sorts of fun things later, and really channel that "I'll show those fools at the institute!" energy. Even if he never did join House Telvanni.

At the last minute, he stopped, turned back, and retrieved Vivec’s Sermon 14 from under the bed.

On the one hand, yes, I am making fun of Iriel for considering porn* an essential, but also... not entirely? At the risk of getting too brutally real about mental illness, masturbation can be a key hammer in the mental toolbox, albeit one that tends not to get included on cute little listicles of harm-reduction coping techniques like taking bubble baths or snapping an elastic on your wrist. For people who spend their lives trying to manipulate their brains into staying above the line marked "basic functionality", orgasm can occasionally seem like the brief boost of feel-good chemicals that might kick it over that line. It is, at any rate, cheaper and safer than many alternatives, and while it's not nearly as effective as skooma, at least you don't have to fight smugglers in a cave for it. Or worse, interact with Tsiya.

*Iriel's current opinion of said text. We can make fun of him for this one.

“I’m sorry, Iriel.” Erranil shook her head, primly. “I’m no longer authorised to transport you.

It is the stupidest fucking thing that you don't have to be a member of the Mages Guild to use guild guide transportation, but if you've been expelled from the guild, they put you on a permanent no-fly list! This was often extremely annoying, ingame.

That said, it was funny to be playing the opposite of a "proper" Morrowind character, who ends up head of all the factions, including being Pope of two different religions at once. Iriel, by contrast, got expelled while still Apprentice rank in the Mages, never got past the early ranks in Thieves, and while he got one or two Imperial Cult ranks, he stopped once it wasn't going to get him laid any more.

But yes, I did get Iriel ingame-mechanically-expelled from the Mages' Guild on purpose (possibly by stealing a spoon?). For immersion. Method gamer, y'know.

next: 21: refinement & 22: fragile previous: 13: legs & 14: plan & 15: claws & 16: door

[hmshermitcraft]

for this weeks prompt! some impulse x grian (i am sorry i started writing and couldn’t stop)

Grian loved being a graphics teacher. He loved seeing all of his students excited faces and seeing how eager they were to learn when being taught something creative. Even those that didn’t really want to go into graphics enjoyed the freedom Grian gave them and that he allowed students to catch up on work in other classes if they weren’t planning to take graphics in the future.

What Grian didn’t like were other teachers. Sure, most were nice enough but very few enjoyed teaching as much as him. So, he stayed within his department mostly. Scar and Pearl were always just as passionate about their lessons as he was.

But sometimes, neither of them are in (that’s the issue with them both living together.) So, Grian usually has to pray the replacement teachers are able to keep the classes in check, as well as running around between all three classes that day.

He is just setting up in his classroom when a pair of men walks in, both a fair bit taller than him. The first one he locks eyes on is, “Mumbo!”

“Hi Grian! Impulse and I are gonna be taking over Scar and Pearl’s classes today.”

Grian turned to look at the other, larger man and felt his face heat up. “Oh… hiiii Impulse.”

“Sup dude! Yeah, I mean, our classes are all on field trips today with the other science staff plus we both have some kind of graphics knowledge from college so we figured we’d be most helpful. Is that ok?”

“Ofcourse it is.” Grian tried not to melt into a puddle. Sure, he didn’t interact with many non art teachers but the one of the ones he did see a lot out of work was Impulse. He was friends with Pearl (and Grian’s best friend Mumbo) so he was often with them for drinks or shopping days and well… Maybe Grian had developed a little crush on the man. Nothing major, just that he was a nice sight. With a kind voice and an amazing beard and being only a little taller than Grian, he just thought he was quite attractive, especially when he would go on little tangents about engineering and science.

The three of them sat around Grian’s desk as he began explaining what the classes had been up to and the lesson plans for the day. “Hm… you know what, my first class is one for older students and Scar and Pearl don’t share it… Maybe you two could stay here and get used to things and help out some students if you’re able to?”

“That’s an amazing idea, Grian!”

To say Grian went weak under Impulse’s praise would be an understatement. However, he had a class to teach.

Watching Grian teach felt like a privilege to Impulse. Grian, who in his mind was quiet and easily flustered and who maybe didn’t like Impulse all too much, was so confident when he taught. His class were like a well oiled machine and seemed just as hooked on Grian’s every word as Impulse felt.

As the class began to work, Grian immediately began making his way around the classroom, giving some students who were already struggling help and having lively conversations with others. Impulse began observing some of the students’ work, complimenting them all until he heard Grian’s voice. “Impulse, come over here, I need to show you something!”

Like a lapdog, Impulse immediately made his way over to Grian, “Yeah, G?”

“Look at this student’s work. Isn’t it incredible?” Grian began to show Impulse some of this student’s work, including some graphics he’d made for each school department.

“Wow, these are amazing and really inspired. I love the bright colours you use as well. Welldone.” Impulse could see the student’s eyes light up, as well as Grian’s

The day ran smoothly, most of the lessons were well behaved, especially with Grian poking his head in to check. At the end of the day, Impulse came into Grian’s classroom. “Hey, G… uh I was wondering if you still rode your bike?”

“Huh… oh yes I do.” Grian was busy packing away some work to mark, ending up with two full bags and his arms totally full as well. “I was gonna get the bus today though.”

“Why don’t I drive you? I uh I have a van so you can easily put your bike in and it would avoid and student work getting damaged… plus the forecast says it’s gonna rain.”

“Really? Thank you so much.”

Impulse took the sheets of work from Grian’s hands to help him out and the pair walked out to the car park. Impulse put Grian’s bags and papers into a large plastic box just to avoid them receiving any extra damage while the other got his bike from the shed.

“You play the drums?”

“Yeah, some of the engineering and science department people get together and play… it’s just for fun but it’s really fun.”

“Well, I’d love to hear it some time… Uh, sorry, let me just..” Grian hoisted his bike inside and rested it on the floor beside its lock.

The pair got in their seats and Impulse began to drive, some random music playing from the radio. Grian rested his head against the window, watching as the rain began.

“Hey G, um… do you not like me?”

“Huh?” Grian turned to Impulse, looking horrified. “No! Not at all.”

“Oh… it’s just that you always seem uh not very talkative around me and you always avoid me when we hang out in groups… do you not like me hanging out with you?”

“No I- Oh gosh, this is embarrassing…” Grian sighed and stared straight ahead at the road. “I might have a bit of a crush on you.”

“Oh… that’s cool.”

The pair then burst into laughter.

“Cool!? Impulse who responds to someone having a crush on them with cool?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were too cool to like me!”

“Oh my gosh…”

The pair calmed down now, the air in the van a lot more relaxed. As they pulled up outside of Grian’s, Impulse cleared his throat.

“Would you like to go out for drinks soon? Just the two of us…”

“Like a date?” Grian asked hopefully.

“Yeah, uh if you want.”

“I’d love to.”

Grian's students totally don't notice Impulse hanging around the art department more often nowadays. And no, he totally doesn't bring Grian a snack, and Grian totally doesn't find flowers on his desk.

Mumbo, Scar and Pearl also love taking responsibility for getting the couple together, despite contributing absolutely nothing. It's their right!

[ihopesocomic]

I really love the writting in the comic. you guys did an amazing job with the characters so far and i'm falling in love with the worldbuilding the more i learn about it! Between that and the beautiful art, it's no wonder it got popular! was this your first take at a story? how did you learn to write like this? did you take classes in creative writting or are you going with what feels right to you? i ask because i have a couple stories i want to finish, but i feel like my experience is limited.

Thank you so so much, anon. I wouldn't say we're super duper popular but it's nice to have the readerbase that we have. We're just doing this for funsies, ultimately. c:

And neither of us have taken any classes in creative writing. We've both just been writing stories since idk forever. I always wanted to be an author of some description and I guess you just pick things up over the years. Especially what not to do. I'm still not perfect with my narratives and exposition, those are things I find quite a struggle to this day. Naturally fitting exposition into a narrative is just... oof, it's a lot.

But yeah, it's just a case of us both digesting animal stories and media and picking out which tropes we like out of them and being inspired by that. Or being inspired by what we don't like either. I think that's an important thing that needs to be normalised. I feel it's fine to be inspired by something you don't particularly enjoy 90% but there's like a solid 10% of things that kinda resonates with you, whether it be setting or worldbuilding. - RJ

[thekinkyleopard]

Snzfire of Hostility

Part 2 of a Non-Canon AlxKoxNai Fic Series

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Snz Fet, Bullying, Sexual Harassment, Smut, Sneaky Public oral, coercion

Description: Draeko is the fresh meat at College, new in town, and at first the jocks Alistar and Kanai, don’t find much interest in him. Until they find out he’s rather a little factory of entertainment and fetish gold. What will become of them all?

Author’s Notes: EEEEE I am like living for this series rn I have so many ideasss!!! Please enjoy this next steamy chapter as Al ups the Ante >:) art, Drae and Kanai all by @aller-geez !

Draeko was less than enthused to walk into Culinary class after having had creative writing prior. It seemed everything was more or less normal. Al hadn’t been there for last period and Kanai was never usually a problem by himself. Yet, he worried. Worried he would have to sit with that strange emotionless man and work together on their meal for the day in awkward silence. It was his second week in, and now classes were starting to feel more like work and less like cocktail hour.

The pastel colored male walked carefully into culinary and much to his dismay, both the Navy haired man and red head sat at the table. He sighed. Walked forward, avoiding eye contact with either, he sat in the seat to the right of Kanai furthest from Al. He did notice, however, that their other partner, Sloan, was missing. She must be out sick, Draeko assumed. This wasn’t good news, she was usually his go to when it came to avoiding conversation with the two intimidating men. Today, was incredibly different without her. What was he to do now that he couldn’t use her as a crutch?

“Now class today we are going to cook Lemongrass Chicken…learning how to use herbs and spices to our advantages we will….” As she droned on, the red head slowly creeped over, leaning enough over Kanai to see the pastel colored pup.

“Hey…pst…kid…” he cupped his hand around his mouth to hopefully draw out a louder sound than he was really making.

“What?” The younger tried to avoid eye contact still, not really wanting to get too involved with whatever shenanigans the other had in store.

“Good to see you…how you feelin’?” Waggling his eyebrows with a cheeky aura radiating off his person. Drae sat back and rolled his eyes now, blatantly ignoring the red head to avoid talking about the incident. Alistar hadn’t stopped thinking about it, and he was going to find some way to get the sensation to come back. Infact he had been mulling over ideas the other day with Kanai. Ever since that class, the demon was more than obsessed with the little freshman. He wouldn’t need them on this day though. As their instructor went on to first show them how their meal would be made, the fresh scent of cooking lemongrass was already starting to tickle and prick at Draeko’s sensitive nostrils. But he held strong. Tweaking his nose side to side to fight off the insistent urge.

“Now remember, you need to make sure your chicken is thoroughly cooked, or else risk giving someone illness, do we think we can handle it?” She asked as she finished up the meal, plated it and cut open the main dish to show off her perfectly cooked chicken. “Alright everyone get to it!” Draeko flung himself from the table to get away from the two demons, not that he really ever had an issue with the more navy themed one. He tended to mind himself when the red head wasn’t around, but he egged him on and aided regardless. The two were in cahoots and that meant Drae trusted neither of them. As he was gathering the ingredients and everyone was bustling about, the professor deeply invested in her computer screen, Al pressed up against the other’s back.

“Think you can handle it?” He repeated the professor’s words, purring into the mutt’s ear, causing the younger to tremble beneath him.

“E-excuse me?” Draeko turned his head to the side, his eyes trying to find him in his peripherals at the very least, face dusted in light pink, was he flirting with him?

“Cutting up the chicken and stuff do you think you can handle it? Me and Kanai just sort of burn things so like…if you could do the most of it….?” Suddenly he asked very nonchalantly, almost like there hadn’t been a seductive purr at the edge of his tone.

“Why bother taking the class if you’re not gonna learn the skill…?” Drae rolled his eyes trying to focus away from how close the man was standing up against him.

“Easy A? Gets elective credits out the way? Many reasons kiddo, but get to cookin’,” he slapped the smaller across his ass and Draeko’s cheeks burned bright red. He looked around to see had anyone noticed the assault but they hadn’t and he almost felt upset over it. It was weird, the more he acted like he didn’t like it, the more his brain started to rewire itself, like he couldn’t deny himself how hot the two men were.

Kanai at the other end of their kitchen was doing his best to chop and mince the garlic but found himself snipping the tip of his index, not enough to gush blood everyone but enough for the man to furrow his brows and let go of the knife. “Alistar, I can’t seem to get the right grip I have now cut myself several times, is there no other way to do this effectively and efficiently?” Looking over at his two partners now. Al backed up off the mutt and came by to look at his friend’s hand.

“Tch tch….see what I mean pup? We’re practically useless over here,” he clicked his tongue in disapproval at his friend’s wounds, looking over at the mutt raising Kanai’s hand up in the air to draw attention to the incident.

“Ok but can you at least cut the lemongrass yourselves? I can’t stand the smell of it,” he sighed, rolling his eyes and taking over the spot to which Kanai had just been cutting garlic, not before rinsing his knife off though.

“Oh? You can’t stand the smell of it?” Alistar’s brow raised curiously as he looked over at the serving of ingredient that was on the counter awaiting its time.

“Yeah, I don’t and there’s so much around…” the sizzle of several other pans started to make Draeko nervous. It was different when it was across the room and just one pan going but now it’s at least three and they hadn’t even started theirs yet. He could feel it sliding down his sinuses and grasping him by the throat, he set the knife down and brought his hands swiftly upward in an attempt to stifle it “H-hnn…GXNT!” Draeko’s body shook and lurched forward as he tried his best to conceal himself. It was of no use. Alistar leaned up against the counter, elbow propped and his chin on top of a closed fist.

“Marvelous, see Kanai? When you ask, thou shall receive…I’m tellin’ you I’m grandpa’s favorite….” Kanai rolled his eyes at the comment but watched none the less, still tapping at his nicked finger. Draeko’s legs shook and his lips quivered while he tried his best to fight the sensations building inside of his nostrils.

“Please….” He pleaded with himself more than anyone else. Why? Why can’t he just keep it down?? The lemongrass filling the air around the entire classroom was making the mutt sweat, trying to focus on chopping the garlic, then the chicken but with everyone already at the point of sizzling their pans, the younger couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Here it comes,” Alistar nudged and elbowed his best friend as they both stared down the other who set down the knife once again to try and catch himself before he could contaminate the food.

“K’GNSH’iiew!!” Into the palms of his hands now, his brows furrowed and his nose crinkled. “H’iish’ue!!” He backed up but only found himself bumping straight into Alistar’s chest. “I- need-…h’H…” cut off by a sharp gasp that caught in his throat.

“Help? A hand?” The demon guessing as he snickered and placed his hand under the younger’s nose and wiped it clean for him. Rubbing off the ick and wet onto his crusty black patched up jeans.

“tch’ISSH!!” The small kitten sneeze escaped him as he was trying to find his way FROM the red head, and to ground himself against the counter again. However, Al took hold of the small hybrid’s hip and gripped it, grinding his hard length into the other so he can feel as he sneezed against his large body.

“God you have no idea what that does to me…” He growled, his voice excited like a rock n roll artist announcing his entrance to the city, but it was only the group of them that could hear it. He took a deep inhale of the other’s messy different colored hair. It was sweet, but that was behind the larger scent of citrus in the air. Draeko bit his lower lip, his watering eyes scanned the room around him and as he realized not a single soul was there to pay attention, all fixated on their own tasks, he almost felt excited. Were they aware of this too? No one was watching them?

“Stop…we’re gonna get in trouble…” he whimpered trying to shuffle innocently away but Al kept him tight in his grasp. Draeko’s nose tweaked and twitched, reaching up as he tried to scratch it by rubbing it in circles in loud clicks.

“Doubtful, Miss H is too busy sexting her foreign online boyfriend and the rest of the class is trying not to burn their chicken….as far as we are concerned, no one gives a shit, but what would be great….is if you could make yourself useful under the counter….” Pointing downward. It’s true, if he did go below the counter, no one would spot him but in what world does the red head think he was that easy???

“Hey! Asshole! What makes you….” He started but was swiftly cut off by the other’s quick index placed at his lips.

“You may put on a real brave face here kiddo but,” reaching around he gripped the front of Drae’s pants, the crotch specifically feeling in his grip the young hybrid was indeed throbbing.

“Okay…fine…you caught me! Doesn’t mean I’ll just do as you say!” He grumbled with embarrassment, face fully flushed as he realized the compromising situation he was being put into was leaving him with not many choices.

“Won’t it though? Not even for Kanai?” The Navy haired man blinked looking almost lost between them all.

“Are we not cooking the meal, Donnie?” Asking curiously, seeing as that was the only real task that was asked of him in the last hour, from what he could recall. He was a tad bit concerned how they got here so fast but stepped closer nonetheless when he was beckoned by Al’s index.

“No, Nai, we will, we’re just going to get a helping hand as well,” Alistar shoved the mutt to his knees hiding him under the counter top, as he stepped closer to reach the station in order to finish the preparation. Regardless of what was expected, the shorter of the three still found himself rubbing and twitching his nose in irritated circles. “Stand closer,” he grabbed Kanai by the collar of his shirt and swiftly pulled him in.

At first and second glance, it looks like Alistar is cooking and prepping while the other of the visible two, is watching carefully. “Get to it,” the red head commanded, and though he had plenty of room to say no, and felt comfortable enough to do so…the excitement that built within Drae’s core seemed to sing louder than his pride. Slowly he unbuckled and unzipped both the men in front and beside him, careful to not make too many unnecessary noises that may seen out of the ordinary. Though, unlikely they’d be heard with a class full of chatting students and sizzling cookware.

The red head paid no mind and slapped in the chicken, along with the mass amounts of lemon grass he chopped. “That may be too much Donnie,” Nai tried to engage forgetting that regardless, the idea was not to actually care about today’s meal, but today’s opportunity.

“Shhhh I know what I’m doing,” he turned up the heat and suddenly as the lemongrass began to sizzle in the oil of the heating pan, the aroma poisoned the air, and Drae from below, already struggling to pull the men out of their pants, felt the painful and prickling sensations of doom coming back to haunt him.

“B-ut…I-…” Draeko managed to pull the red head from the confines of his boxer briefs and stared his length down before his eyes slowly began to struggle and even cross. They squinted and pinched, a small line of tears, dripped down his cheek and he knew, it was a complete waste of his energy to fight it. “iit’shHIEW! hdt’ishhhh!! TCH’iSh!” He soiled Alistar’s length that twitched with excitement, only making the older student groan and involuntarily push his hips forward.

“Fuck that is awesome….” He looked over at Kanai who, in turn looks rather bored, yet to see the appeal while Drae struggled below them. “You’ll see…” he snickered continuing to try and remain focus on not burning the food.

Draeko nervously was able to have both lengths released and waiting on him, he snuffled and pushed the back of his hand against his nose to sniffle down whatever ick build up he had from his consistently allergic face. He looked over and gripped the Navy haired man’s length in his palm, nervously looking up with glossy eyes, Kanai looked back. His heterochromiatic gaze lidding as there was contact made with his slowly lengthening cock. Not nearly as ready to go as Al was, and Drae takes a moment to drag the flattened end of his tongue under the other’s shaft. Stopping at the tip of his head to suck gingerly, and tease the tall, stoic one. This seemed to bring the man to life as well as his length before he swallowed it fully and allowed it to hit the back of his throat. Al looked down to see the display and smirked reaching to grab Draeko’s free hand and bring it up to his cock.

“Don’t forget about me over here,” he grumbled playfully as he tried to keep his voice low. The sound of loud sizzling knocked him back to reality before long and he went back to pushing and flipping the meat around carefully. The mutt gripped Al’s cock in his palm slowly stroking with purpose and his mouth worked to fluff the other’s slowly growing length as well.

“Shit….” Kanai groaned gripping tightly to the counter as he fought between wanting to watch the small hybrid give him brain, and also follow along watching to make sure Alistar didn’t fail them. Drae’s eyes slid to a close while his tongue and mouth continued to swallow and devour, he was just starting to get himself together when the redhead turned up the heat and poured a shot of wine into the pan. Flames roared upward as he torched the lemongrass to squeeze every last tormenting cell out of its aroma. “D-Donnie…the recipe doesn’t call for w-wine….” Trying to guide his best friend back to the basics, who simply laughed with his own hooded gaze.

“Don’t question me just wait and see…” and it didn’t take long, the burning scent of lemongrass wafted even stronger in the air with it having been freshly scorched under the wine flambé. Draeko’s nostrils twitched, his eyelids fought, open and closed, open and closed….his throat tightened up around Kanai who’s nails dug into the wooden counter and nearly split a huge chunk completely off the surface entirely but managed to stop at cracking it.

“Shit….” He hissed between gritting teeth and a clenched jaw. Drae, trying to keep himself from exploding all over the demon’s length, finding himself unable to do so when it finally struck him, his throat closing up and he immediately pulled back on it.

“hih’iiiSSHHHuu! hhh’ISCHih! ” He sprayed across Kanai’s dick the man grunting and looking over at his red headed counter part.

“You’re right….does feel great…” he looked back down and could see the mutt’s brightly blushing and flushed face, embarrassed, as he tried to fix up and wipe off his face.

“Stop that,” Alistar started swatting at Draeko’s hands. “I wanna see you get messy….i want your own liquids dripping down your face while you please us…” he had leaned down at an angle to whisper seductively at Drae who blinked slowly, trying to capture every syllable before he…

“hh'IETSH’UE!” Another one, his eyes reddened and leaking, same as his poor nose, the irritation of rubbing at him had almost made it feel raw. Alistar reached down, took a fistful of Draeko’s hair and dragged his mouth over to his cock and shoved his way down the mutt’s throat, slowly fucking his face hole while he remained pushing the chicken about, it was starting to look a little….done. Yet Al couldn’t stop here.

“Don’t stop…” he growled , his hips snapping with every hard swallow. Draeko’s fist twisted Kanai’s length, pumping at the same rhythm he was sucking on the red head. His eyes leaked, his nose and the sides of his mouth also dripped while he kept himself stuffed full. A soft snuffle heard every 3rd suck as he was not a fan of how his snot kept threatening to leak down his lips. “I’m close….” Alistar grunted through, turning off the heat he gripped the counter in both his hands and like a wild animal began to face fuck the absolute dog shit out of Draeko’s mouth, causing a uncontrollable mass of drool to start leaking from the corners of his lips. “Here it comes…..” he warned before blowing his load completely down Draeko’s tight throat. At this moment, the mutt wasn’t ceasing his motions upon Kanai’s length, still pumping and squeezing the tip to encourage the taller to follow behind but he just couldn’t quite get there yet.

Alistar’s nails dug into the counter as his orgasm rocked through him and his vision turned to stars, rolling into the back of his skull as he jerked himself forward in repetition. Drae gagged, and choked trying to keep the mess to a minimum as the seed slid down his throat, lifting himself off he quickly turned his advances to Kanai, his mouth switching cocks like it was suddenly his day job.

The wet warmth surrounding Kanai was just what he needed to silently reach over and clench Alistar’s shoulder, the red head sucking air between his teeth in pain. “F……uck….” Red eyes wide as he tried to keep his volume to a minimum while his best friend practically clawed him. The navy haired male didn’t care, his eyes rolled back and he rocked as his length spilled down the mutt’s throat, who expertly swallowed each load without a fight to put up. Once he was satisfied with his clean up, Drae quickly collapsed rubbing at his nose, bringing the back of his shirt across his incredibly wet face.

“Nah nah don’t do that yet….” Alistar stopped him by gripping the shirt and keeping it from reaching his face.

“Wh-…” Drae looked up at the man almost flabbergasted by the request. What did he mean he couldn’t clean himself up?

“Let me take a picture first you look fucking crazy,” Grinning with a side smirk plastered across his smug face, the hybrid rolled his eyes, stuck out his tongue and folded his arms across his chest.

“No! You can’t….” Looking up and away from Al’s gaze to emphasize he wasn’t going to crack.

“Want me to announce to everyone you sucked our cocks in class instead? Hm?” Draeko’s eyes widened and blushed, looking away he shook his head slowly and then back up at the red headed demon. This was humiliating. He couldn’t believe he allowed himself to be seduced by these two….CLOWNS. They don’t even respect him!

Yet as Alistar snapped his photos, and the class started to question what was taking them so long, Kanai had managed to zip himself up and scramble the food from the pan….looking less than perfect. Bringing the plates to the table, everyone’s eyes were more or less on their meals or on Kanai. No one noticed when Draeko managed to pop up, wiping his face and rushing to grab a few paper towels. He crinkled them, wet them with warm water and placed it on his aching bridge. The scent still lingered in the air but at least with the towels on his face, it soothed his poor aching sinuses. “Good work, pup,” he smirked watching the poor mutt do his best to soothe his reddened and swollen face.

Ruffling the other’s messy duo-colored hair before he sauntered off confidently as if he didn’t just face fuck the life out of him. Draeko stood there in the kitchenette as everyone talked amongst themselves and ate their food. He looked up, pinching the bridge of his nose and toward the ceiling light of the classroom ceiling. What the fuck was he doing? He came to college to change his life and he’s back to his whore behavior, seriously? Sucking the dicks of the two dudes that have been the most disrespectful to him since he started coming here? There has to be a word for this. This takes the cake. He was never going to change. He couldn’t handle a life without chaos.

He sniffled loudly, and used the now cooling rag to wipe and clear his nose before tossing it away in the trash, wiping his nose dry with the back of his shirt. It wasn’t an entirely good look but the kid was exhausted, disappointed in himself, still incredibly attracted to the two obnoxious jocks, and again, disappointed in himself. He slowly dragged his feet to the table, sitting down to see chunks of burnt chicken on his plate with a side of half crunchy rice. “What….the fuck is this?” He asked with a squeamish look across his face.

“Lemongrass chicken,” Al replied with a monotoned voice, mid chew as he and Kanai both seemed relatively unphased, whilst crunching their over/under done entrees.

“This is burnt….and the rice isn’t….done?” Drae had picked up a fork to push around the food looking between it and his classmates. They both stayed silent. “Guys! I thought you said you had this???” He suddenly furrowed at them, his voice exasperated when Kanai finally turned to look at him.

“It seems that yes, Alistar did not cook the meal to complete perfection, however, sustenance is still sustenance, I see this as an edible B+ at the least,” shrugging his shoulders, Al pointing his fork in the other’s direction and nodded in agreement.

“That part,” shoveling another fork full of garbage into his mouth. Draeko shook his head back and forth and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re gonna be the reason I fail a damn elective class aren’t you?” Sighing deeply with irritation, sliding back into his chair.

“Me? I recall choices being made on your end, all I did was urge the desire,” licking his teeth as his gaze finally shot up to take a good look at the mutt in his own stubborn orbs.

As they glared daggers at one another the instructor wound up coming around to check on everyone, coming to a screeching halt at their table. “Oh my, I’d really suggest you three go home tonight, together and practice this recipe….this looks….terrible,” she clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“Hey, to each their own teach! I’d say it’s exactly how I like it,” Alistar chuckled flashing her a charming side smile that didn’t seem to sway her opinion any.

“I’m….sure….PRACTICE! I want to see a video next week of you three redoing this meal,” Draeko sighed slumping and sliding further into his chair as he knew this would mean only one terrible thing. He would have to be exposed to that damn herb near those damn hooligans again and that’s honestly going to be the death of him.

“Ma’am I can do it, it would have been fine, I just had an allergic reaction from all the pans going at once….so I had Al take charge but do I really have to redo it?” Looking up at her sheepishly with an unconvincing half smile, she looked at him, a flat expression written across her face before she responded.

“That’s not an excuse, yes you really have to redo it,” rolling her eyes at the pathetic attempt Drae had even made to get out of it.

“Fuck dude….” He groaned slamming his forehead straight onto the table with an expressive thud. Alistar snickered, leaning over to wrap his arms around the sulking mutt.

“Guess we’ll see you tonight huh? Our place?” More than prepared for all the ways he was going to make this video his own special home movie. He’d do the homework part too sure, sure.

“I’m not coming,” Draeko narrowed his eyes before rolling them in the opposite direction. Alistar only inched closer.

“You’ll fail the assignment,” reminding the other of the importance to pass each meal as if their entire grades depended on it.

“I don’t care,” shrugging his shoulders. Was he bluffing? Entirely, but he wasn’t positive that the demon could figure that out if he sounded confident enough.

“You sure about that?” Raising a thin red brow. He didn’t believe him. Even for a second.

“Positive,” Huffing out his nostrils now to indicate he wasn’t going to teeter or sway, there would be no meet up. He wasn’t to be left alone with those two heathens or so help him he go back to his old ways.

“See you at 9pm tonight then,” Alistar chuckled confidently, backing off the mutt before grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Kanai doing the same as they anticipated the end of class.

“…..” the bell rung and Draeko could feel himself practically jump out of his seat. Would he go? He knew what would happen if he was left alone with those two, without a bunch of students around to witness. Put him in a room with those two assholes and he’s gonna make it stank. He shook his head. “Why am I like this?” the logical side of his brain finally kicking in as he unclogged himself of the “what ifs”. Clutching his backpack to his person tightly, he considered what he was to do for the rest of the day, but what was he to choose?

To be Continued…

Author’s Notes: Little intense I know I know but like 🤤 I love public stuff~ little bit shorter than the last one? I think? Idk anyway I have some good ideas for the next few chapters~ I love Al bullying Drae into doing nasty shit 🥰😍 and Kanai just going along for the ride cause why not 😍 ugh using Draeko like a snzy fuck Toy. So hot. 🥵

[savventeen]

OOH IF YOU'RE STILL TAKING ASKS FOR THE TROPE THING can i get vernon and like you two are assigned partners on an art project but he's awful at art LMFAO okay thank love you xx

JJ BELOVED HI HELLO I AM FINALLY GETTING AROUND TO THIS <333333

okay first of all i LOVE this idea skfjllkdfl this would definitely be a fun, comedic, romcom nonsense fic hehehe

i'm picturing this being set in like, a fucking calculus class and this project is the professor's way of trying to "bring more creativity to the sciences" or whatever. and vernon's just like. 'dude. how on earth is making a collage...sculpture...thing... supposed to help me learn calculus???' no one in the class really gets it either, since they can just, you know, do the math without having to create anything. but whatever, a little arts n crafts never hurt anyone [spoiler alert: it maybe hurts someone *cough*vernon*cough* a little at some point]

anyway, vernon ends up being partnered up with reader who, thank god, actually has an idea for what they can do for their project and also talks like someone who knows about art. in fact, they seem really into art and like, super pumped for this project. which is great! except, they're also really cute? and like, they're maybe kinda sorta the person he's been lowkey crushing on from afar since last semester???

and because having a crush sometimes makes you say/do stupid things, he tells reader that he can totally help with the art portion, easy peasy. [narrator voice: it was not, in fact, easy peasy] queue montage of the week leading up to when they're supposed to meet up again: - vernon desperately watching all kinds of youtube videos trying to learn how to Art™️ - him walking into a Michael's and just being so lost and overwhelmed that he just. has a bit of an existential crisis in the fabric section - he somehow manages to accidently cut himself with a pair of scissors while trying to do some kind of papercraft thing and has to go to the nurse's office. - his roommate (let's make it chan for funsies) is convinced that he's having some kind of mental breakdown "hyung, i don't know what to do, he's just staring at a pile of children's playdough like it holds the secrets of the universe. or maybe like it killed his pet goldfish. i don't know, he's just being weird."

all of this leads up to when reader and vernon meet up again to present their 'prototypes' of the art part of the project so they can decide which they like better and then start actually working on it. reader is already at the cafe they agreed to meet at, and vernon (sleep deprived and already overly caffeinated) walks up to where reader is sitting, drops his sad attempt at art on the table, and blurts "i lied about being good at art because you're really cute and it broke my brain a little bit and i'm actually really, really bad at it. i'm so sorry." and then he fucking WALKS AWAY because he's a LOSER and you were extra cute today and his brain is still a bit broken and reader ends up having to chase him down the street, his shitty attempt at art clutched in one hand, to tell him that it's fine, they can handle the art part as long as he does his fair share of the math

"and like. maybe i could, teach you? sometime? if you want to learn, that is. and i'm not the best artist, but i've taught some summer camp classes before, and—" / "wait, you'd really wanna do that? after seeing how bad at it i am?" / "well... it means i'd get to spend some extra time with you outside of school, so... yeah"

vernon of course readily agrees, and they start going on little art dates together (and yes, they're Date dates bc vernon finally gets his shit together and asks them out) and they get a solid B- on the project bc while reader is great at art, turns out neither of them are the best at math rip </3

[send me a person and a trope/au and i'll tell you what kind of plot i'd write for them]

[magicalgirlmascot]

Continuing to think about KNPS Inika bc I love them

Jaller is both student council president and on the boy's floor hockey team. Not captain, he doesn't have time for that. He has college applications to prepare for, and homework, and his part time job at Kini Nui's only grocery store, and keeping Takua out of trouble. Chronically single. Does not still have feelings for Hahli and no one can prove he does. Trying to unionize his workplace despite being 17. Wants to be a firefighter.

Hahli is assistant captain on the girl's lacrosse team (Macku is captain). She always feels like she's at the edge of her friend group and never really knows what to say. Often feels like she's behind with regards to trends and stuff because she gets crap internet out at the farm. Has dated a few different guys over the years. Does not still have feelings for Jaller and no one can prove she does. Has no idea what she wants to do after high school and is sick of people asking.

Kongu spends almost every lunch hour in the gym's weight room working out. He's not on any sports teams, he just likes working out and doesn't want to dedicate time to going to a gym after school. Will still throw hands for Tamaru without a second thought. Plays the clarinet in band class and wants to learn the drums. Gay and loud about it. Wants to be a pilot.

Hewkii is hands down the most popular kid in their grade. He's the guy who's on every sports team and gets along with everyone. Took drama as his obligatory arts credit in grade 9 and loved it so much he's taken it every year since. Joined at the hip with Macku. Likes going to escape rooms and axe throwing with friends or on dates. Wants to go away to university, but is worried about what that will mean for his relationship.

Nuparu is the star of shop class and has won awards at every science fair he's ever entered. Has like four friends who are all just as geeky as he is. They hang out under the stairs by the tech hall like it's their own little clubhouse. Built like a brick shithouse. On the school's tech crew for theater and other shows. Has been waffling between getting a degree in engineering or going straight into a trade after high school, and is stressed about the fact that he's going to have to make a decision about that soon.

Matoro keeps to himself, gets good grades, and tries to fly under the radar as much as possible. Took vocal music as an arts credit in grade 9 and loved it but refuses to take any other classes that involve getting onstage, no matter how much Hewkii begs him to try out for the school musical. Spends most of his time in the library with Kopeke, had a rough first year of school. Neither closeted nor out but a secret third thing (acts like everyone has always known he's gay and they're the weird ones for not remembering). Wants to be a sign language interpreter and a wildlife conservationist and also run away to live in the woods.

Takua has become the undisputed champion of hallway gossip. They know everything there is to know about everyone in the school, and if you ever need anything ever, they definitely know a guy. Still terrified of the dark. Goes to a lot of parties. In the anime club, GSA, and game club. Writes a lot of short stories and has put together a compilation zine to sell. Works part time for the same cleaning company as their mom. Wants to get a creative writing degree.

[dragonologist-phd]

OC Mannerisms

tagged by @cassynite to fill out this prompt! thank you for the tag, this is a fun one! i'll leave this as an open offer, to anyone who wants to fill this out themselves!

Piper Chanterelle

BASICS

- NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES >> 2 and some change (Taldane, Infernal, and a collection of phrases in various languages she's picked up through the years)

- TONE OF VOICE >> high / average / deep 

- ACCENT >> Mendevian (though she can imitate many more pretty convincingly)

- DEMEANOR >> confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

- POSTURE >> slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS

head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance / expressive tail (all in all, she very rarely stands still)

COMPLEXITY (Fill in the circle’s as you wish)

- VOCABULARY >> ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️ (no formal education, but as a bard she collects all kinds of stories, and she's built up a decent vocab)

- EMOTION >> ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️ (she can dial it down when needed, but her default state definitely tends toward the expressive)

- SENTENCE STRUCTURE >> ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️ (she can be pretty verbose, and she talks in long sentences with poetic, flowing language. a bit of razzle dazzle in language can go a long way in being persuasive)

PROFANITY

- FREQUENCY >> ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️ (varies depending on the company she's with, but usually not often)

- CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity) >> ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️(if she's gonna do it, she's gonna make an art of it)

BOLD THAT APPLY

arse / ass / asshole / bastard / bitch / bloody / bugger / bollocks / chicken shit / crap / cunt / dick / frick / fuck / horseshit / motherfucker / piss / prick / pussy / screw / shit / shitass / son of a bitch / twat / wanker

THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity, neutrality, or femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? (neither- familiarity) / praise or equivocation? / frankness or flattery / excessive or minimal hand gestures / name-calling or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

- DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? almost always / frequently / rarely / never

- DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK?

 almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never

- WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS?

almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never

- WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS?

almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never

- WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE?

yes / no / only ironically (lol this option cracks me up. yes Piper would absolutely do this to make fun of stuffy, overly formal nobility)

- YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE?

but / though / although / however / perhaps / maybe

- HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? 

walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don’t

- WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK?

upper / middle / lower (she can be a social chameleon, but generally lower-middle class)

- IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS?

accent  / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t (tone is the best fit of the ones listed here- basically, she approaches everyone with a very familiar and friendly attitude, as if she's known them for year; shrewd people make pick up on the fact that it's all kind of part of her performance)

Anything that wasn’t touched on?

Piper's very touchy and physically affectionate! It's actually a problem when I write her, because I am not and I keep forgetting to write that in for her because it doesn't naturally occur to me. But Piper is always casually touching people, hugging, linking arms, kissing cheeks- you get the idea.

She also tends to come up with nicknames for the people she spends time with- some teasing, some affectionate, some a little bit of both)

[rollofleaf]

Knight Commander as Companion Prompt: Hilde

I decided to finally fill this out since I’ve been writing about Hilde for nearly a year and never actually did something like this.

template done by @dragonologist-phd and you can find blank version here

Name: Hilde Svalksdottir

Race: Musetouched Aasimar

Class: Battle Singer Skald

Appearance: Hilde is a rugged warrior from the north, athletic and well muscled yet oddly short at only 5’2”. She is 24 years old. She has slightly tan skin and messy peach-colored hair owing to her aasimar heritage, with glowing pinkish eyes to match. A deep, old scar runs along the bridge of her round nose just below her eyes, and the rest of her body is dotted with more sparse scars. She paints her face red or pink with small decorations, swirls and lines significant only to her own people, and on some days she paints a butterfly on her forehead. Hilde usually wears thick furs or leather clothes, and accessorizes with a necklace of animal fangs and a few talismans.

Favored Weapon/Equipment: Greataxe and medium armor.

Top Skills: Persuasion, Lore (Nature), Athletics, Knowledge (World)

Alignment: Chaotic neutral.

General Personality: Hilde is curious, friendly, and inquisitive. She loves to talk about stories and history and will remark about how she intends to write a saga detailing the Commander’s adventures. She views herself as a warrior-poet, mastering the art of war for the purpose of gaining knowledge. She’s eager to fight or spar and values honor and honesty. While quite charming and social, she is blunt to the point of rudeness and always speaks from the heart. She will not hesitate to tell the Commander (or anyone else) when she thinks they’re wrong, and appreciates when others treat her the same way. She also tends to get defensive when her strength or usefulness is called into question.

What traits/values do they admire? Honor, Honesty, Freedom, Strength, Curiosity

What traits/values do they disapprove of? Deception, Cruelty, Indifference, Authoritarianism

Are they affiliated with any deities? Hilde is chiefly a worshipper of Desna, primarily revering her as a goddess of travel and luck. She values freedom and creativity and frequently visits Desna’s shrines as she travels. She also worships Gorum, though disagrees with his philosophy of focusing on battle above else. She will bond with the Commander over either shared faith and with Arueshalae over Desna.

What do they think of their role in the Crusades, and of sharing the Commander’s Mythic powers? What are their reasons for joining the commander’s party? She’s excited right from the bat to take part in the crusades, as it affords her the opportunity to gather stories, improve her own strength, and explore old Sarkoris. She has a hidden motivation of proving herself to her tribe and father, as the Commander will eventually learn about.

She is initially very curious about the Commander’s mythic powers and sees it as proof that she chose a good fight to join, one that will be sung about for centuries. She’s surprised that the powers spread to her, and views the power it gives as an unfair advantage she didn’t earn herself, something she describes as “strength that is not my own”.

Who are their friends among the other party members? Hilde is fascinated by Arueshalae and her journey and becomes fast friends with her. She takes it upon herself to help Arueshalae to acclimate to life among mortals and bonds with her over them both being rather out of place among Mendevian crusaders. She also does all she can to help Arueshalae change and redeem herself and is quick to defend her, initially under the excuse that a demon redeeming themselves is a remarkable and rare story, but eventually admitting she personally likes Arueshalae and wants her to succeed. If neither is romanced and both achieve good endings, they’ll get together after the story.

Hilde also gets along well with Nenio, both interested in learning knowledge. Nenio’s focus on experimentation and science is less shared by Hilde, but they both enjoy getting to nerd out together over history and become something approximating friends. She gets extremely upset by Nenio’s Act 5 quest and jumps to hug her once Nenio remembers herself.

Hilde also gets along with Seelah. They have fairly similar personalities and make fast friends, able to joke and drink and kill demons together. They’re supportive of each other and overall very wholesome, though the friendship sours a little if Seelah becomes more lawful.

Hilde makes quick friends with Greybor, appreciating his casual attitude, competence, and bluntness. She tries to help him find hobbies other than killing and hangs out with him in the tavern often.

Hilde gets along well with Lann, having both come from a tribe. They joke and banter together, though he displays occasional disdain for her leaving her tribe.

Hilde feels for Ember, having lost her own mother when she was young. She tries to take care of and protect her.

Hilde gets along well with Sosiel and enjoys that he appreciates art and music. She gets along fine enough with Trever, though she doesn’t understand why he doesn’t embrace his rage more.

Haven’t played the Sarkorian DLC, but Hilde and Ulbrig definitely get along very well despite their differing views on magic.

What about rivals?

Hilde views Daeran as everything wrong with cushy civilized people, and Daeran agreeing with her does not help her opinion on him. She holds a disdain for him and they frequently snipe and argue with each other. Ultimately, she does still care about him and will stand up for him during his Act 5 questline.

Hilde values loyalty and honor, and sees none of it in Wenduag. Wenduag seems to rather like Hilde, though she sees Hilde’s focus on learning as a weakness. Hilde is rude and blunt to Wenduag, and will warn the Commander to be wary of her.

Hilde dislikes Camellia for all the same reasons she dislikes Daeran and is very vocal about her dislike. She warms up to her slightly upon learning about Camellia’s spirit, though if she comes to learn of Camellia’s ‘hobbies’ she’ll warn the Commander that her rituals are very abnormal even for the type of magic she’s practicing.

Hilde and Regill don’t particularly get along, but they have some respect for each other. Hilde views Regill as stiff and insufferable but capable while Regill views her as undisciplined and wild but effective and pragmatic.

Hilde initially gets along very poorly with Woljif, as she doesn’t hide her disdain for thieves. She eventually warms up to him and sympathizes with him not fitting in well. Woljif comes to like her more as he learns she’s a bit of a misfit too, and they end as pretty good friends.

Are they on any councils? If so, what sort of advice do they give? Staff and Military. She generally focuses on inspiring the soldiers and being honest to them in the staff councils, and offers barbarian and support-focused choices with the military council.

Where do they hang out in Drezen? In the Abyss? In Drezen she hangs out near Storyteller, and in the Abyss she sits near a ledge at the very bottom of the outside area.

What are their idle animations? She cracks her neck and knuckles then throws a few practice punches.

She pulls out a book and writes some lyrics down, then taps her chin in thought and writes a few more.

She pulls off her fur cloak, shakes it out, and puts it back on.

If they’re taken to Areelu’s lab, what is their dream? She’s sitting in a chair surrounded by children and one shadowy figure to her left. The children are all calling her Chieftain and asking her to tell them another story, which she is about to oblige before the illusion fades. The Commander will be able to comment.

Hilde: “Oh, that was… I see. Hello, I assume you saw that?”

KC: “That was a sweet dream.”

Hilde: “Thank you, but it’s far out of reach. Ugh, now I feel miserable. I guess that’s the point though, like everything demons do... Let’s get a move on.”

Or

KC: “Your dreams are rather… Small.”

Hilde: “Maybe. But I think every warrior really just fights for something like that, so you can put the axe down and live simply in peace. At least, I do. Anyways, let’s go.”

The Commander can also ask “So, who was that person next to you?”

If KC is female and has not rejected Hilde’s romance: Hilde’s cheeks flush scarlet and she coughs in surprise. “That? Ah… Don’t worry about it. Just silly dreams.”

Otherwise: Hilde smiles wistfully and shrugs. “My nonexistent future wife. That sounded a lot less depressing in my head, but I’m sure you understand the idea.”

Do they advise the commander to abandon or keep their mythic powers?

Angel: “I’m an advocate that how something is used is more important than where it comes from. You took powers from a demon and used them as an instrument of good and justice. I think that’s a good reason to keep doing things as you are.”

Azata: “I’m an advocate that how something is used is more important than where it comes from. You took powers from a demon and used them as an instrument of freedom, hope, and beauty. I think that’s a good reason to keep doing things as you are.”

Aeon: “It’s your decision, but I’d hold on tight to your mortality. Abandoning it means giving up your freedom. Is the power worth it if you become a slave to the will of the universe? I don’t know, that’s up to you.”

Trickster: “I’m an advocate that how something is used is more important than where it comes from. You took powers from a demon and used them as an instrument of freedom and creativity. I think that’s a good reason to keep doing things as you are.”

Demon: “I think rage can be good and useful, but even the best-intentioned anger can enslave you if you let it. Whatever you choose, please be careful. Don’t lose yourself for the sake of power, it’s never worth it.”

Lich: "I understand that you need power for your goal, but power will control and corrupt you. Whatever you choose, please be careful. Don't lose yourself for the sake of power, it's never worth it."

How/when do they join the Commander’s party? Hilde will join early in Act 2. While on the road, the Commander will receive word of a traveler that wants to meet with them. Hilde will be shown in and warn the Commander of the swarm of vescavors they are on the way to encounter, and explain she was traveling along the road when she nearly encountered them and was forced to turn back. She’ll also mention that she saw a caravan from Kenabres moving towards the swarm and will give some tips on dealing with them. The Commander can ask some basic questions about her and invite her to accompany them and provide aid. After the battle she’ll say the Commander is something special and she’d like to tag along more permanently.

Describe their companion quest: Not present in Act 1.

Act 2: Aside from initially meeting her, Hilde has little further story. When the gargoyles attack, she’s carried off and rejoins fighting alongside Regill, ignoring his orders to pull back. She’ll also come to talk to the Commander on the night before Drezen. She claims she’s come to ask their opinion on the saga she intends to write of the upcoming battle, but a little prodding reveals her goal is to reassure the Commander and herself that the battle will go well.

Act 3: The Commander will receive visitors from the Land of Linnorm Kings, a grizzled elderly chieftain named Svalk who wishes to pledge his clan to the crusade. The Commander can accept his help, and he is somewhat evasive if asked why he has decided to join the war effort. After he leaves, Anevia will mention that Hilde is also from the Land of Linnorm Kings and she might no more. Regardless of whether the clan’s aid was accepted, Hilde will react with rage when told. She’ll explain that Svalk is her father, and she doesn’t get along with him. If they were dismissed, she’ll thank the Commander. If their help was accepted, she’ll mention she’s going to try to avoid him. A few days later, the Commander will encounter Hilde and the chieftain having a shouting match in the middle of Drezen. They only catch the tail end of the argument, but the chieftain accuses Hilde of allying with weaklings and getting soft before Hilde draws her axe and snarls at him to come see how ‘soft’ she’s gotten. The commander can interrupt the impending fight by having guards separate them, reproaching Svalk for not being a good guest, reproaching Hilde for threatening an ally, or trying to de-escalate with diplomacy. Either way, they’ll stow their weapons and Svalk will insult Hilde before stomping off. Hilde will apologize to the Commander and explain that her father wanted a son and her attempts to prove her strength have never been good enough. The Commander will be able to suggest she fight him properly over it (evil, Hilde will say she doesn’t want to fight her own father), slay a powerful demon to impress her father (lawful, contributes to her chieftain ending), or say she’s impressive on her own and doesn’t need his approval (chaotic, contributes to her poet ending and improves relationship). If she’s recommended to slay a demon, she’ll say she’ll need to ask the Commander’s help and she’ll look for a suitable opponent. If she’s told she doesn’t need to impress him, she’ll say she still wants to do something truly impressive for herself and thank the Commander for their support.

Act 4: Hilde will have a brief conversation near the Battlebliss arena where she discusses her thoughts on the Abyss. Her aasimar heritage hates being in the Abyss and makes her sick, but she’s also felt it stoking her rage. She’ll also reveal she’s already killed several demons that tried to enslave her and is disgusted by how demons are ‘enamored’ with aasimar women. Later, Hilde will approach the Commander in the Nexus and ask if they remember her fight with her father. They’ll be able to talk with her a little and further encourage her to either become the powerful warrior he wants or forge her own identity. Either way, she’ll explain she learned about a powerful slaver in the Fleshmarkets who prides himself on capturing gladiators. She’ll ask if the Commander will help her kill them, either to impress her father or for her own sake. After killing him, Hilde will cut off his head as a trophy, thank the Commander, and joke that she’ll include a part for them in her saga (if their romance is progressing, she’ll also half-joke she might turn it into a love poem instead).

Act 5: Soon after returning to Drezen, Hilde will ask the Commander to come with her to show off her trophy to her father. Unable to find him in Drezen, she’s told that he and his clan are out fighting. She’ll ask the Commander to come along with her. Once they arrive, they have to save Svalk and a host of warriors from demons. After making sure he’s alright, the two quickly fall back into their pattern of mocking each other. Depending on past and current dialogue choices, Hilde will either manage to impress her father with her trophy and combat prowess and he’ll abdicate her position to him (chieftain ending), or Hilde will give a speech about how she’s realized she’ll never be the warrior he wanted and that’s fine. She’ll perform what she has of the saga she’s been writing, and her father will reconcile with her (poet ending). Either way, she’ll thank the Commander for their help and remark that no matter what she’s not leaving until their story is done.

Are they romanceable? Describe their romance quest/scenes if you want! Hilde is romanceable only by female Commanders. There will be some options to flirt with her when she’s first met and the night before the battle for Drezen, which she seems shy but receptive to. While camping in the field in Act 3, she can be found early in the morning writing poetry. The Commander will ask what she‘s writing, to which she gets embarrassed and shyly confesses she’s trying her hand at love poetry, but she’s used only to more epic poems and it’s no good. Some pressing will get her to admit she’s writing about the Commander, but it means nothing and she’s just experimenting. The Commander can accept her explanation (ends the romance), flirt brazenly (continues the romance, but she seems a bit upset and remarks she’s not just some easy lay), or say she would prefer if Hilde did mean something by the poetry (flusters her and advances the romance). If it goes well, she’ll offer to let the Commander read her poetry once it’s finished.

After her argument with her father, she’ll barge into the Commander’s study to vent if their relationship is going well. She’ll give more detail into her backstory, how she was raised as a boy and could never get approval from her father, and how she’s always been fascinated by storytelling and eventually left to travel. She’ll remark that she’s probably being childish, but the conversation progresses to the Commander. She’ll admit that she feels more comfortable around them than she’s felt around anyone in a long time, but will shy away again, remarking the Commander probably wants nothing to do with a backwater barbarian like her. The Commander can protest and kiss her, and take her to bed if they want.

She’ll have a few extra dialogue options during her Act 4 conversations if in a relationship.

During Act 5, Hilde will invite the Commander up to the ramparts for a date. She’ll confess that the Commander is her first love and she’s scared of losing her. She’ll ask the Commander to promise her that she won’t sacrifice herself and will talk about their plans for after the war. She’ll end it by shyly asking if the Commander would like to go traveling together and visit both their homelands after the war. There will also be an option to propose to her, which she’ll accept if the relationship is going very well, and they’ll spend the night again.

After she reconciles with her father, Hilde will shyly introduce the Commander as either her chieftess or her muse, depending on her ending. Her father will either eagerly accept the Commander, or seem rather reluctant depending on how they’ve treated him and Hilde.

What would their ending slides be like?

Chieftain ending: After the war, Hilde returned to the Land of Linnorm Kings as a hero of legendary strength and equal wisdom. She led her tribe to prosperity and glory, but a kernel of her always missed the open road and freedom of travel. (If she is romanced) While she and the Commander could not spend every moment together, they met often and Hilde occasionally entrusted the tribe to her aging father to go travel with her beloved. (If neither she nor Arueshalae are romanced) She was joined by an unusual companion in Arueshalae, and the two eventually fell in love.

Poet ending: After the war, Hilde traveled where her wandering soul guided her and refused to be tied down. Wherever she went, she spread the song of her and the Commander and their heroic war against the demons. (If she is romanced) She was accompanied by the Commander, and her songs were just as often devoted to her beloved’s beauty as they were her heroics. (If neither she nor Arueshalae are romanced) She also made good on a promise to show Arueshalae around the world of mortals, and she was never far from the redeemed succubus.

Ascension ending: Ascending to divinity was an odd challenge for Hilde. Neither leading her tribe nor traveling the world held much interest for her anymore, so she dedicated herself to patroning the arts and inspiring warriors like her whose souls had been touched by knowledge and beauty.

Aeon time travel ending: Hilde became a famous skald at a young age for a masterpiece she composed, a great saga of a war that never occurred between mortals and demons. So rich was the detail and emotion in her saga that one could swear she experienced it herself. When asked how she came up with such a fantastic story, she’d only wink and say she was inspired by a dear friend.

Any other fun facts? After Arueshalae joins, some prodding will reveal Hilde offered to travel with her after the war was over.

Hilde completes more of her saga as the game goes on, and sometimes she’ll begin conversations by giving a few lines and asking the Commander what they think.

Provide some dialogue/bark examples!

Conversation start: Hilde claps her book shut, brushes some hair out of her face, and turns to you with a slight smile. “Hello there. Is there something I can help you with?”

Conversation end: “Of course, a pleasure as always.” She pulls her book back out and turns away.

Selection: “What can this barbarian do for you, hm?” / “Oh, I lost my train of thought. What is it?” / “My axe is sharp and my wits are sharper!”

Skill success: “Hah, barely even a challenge!” / “Seems I’m just that good.” / “Not saga-worthy, but still impressive I think!”

Skill failure: “O-oh, that’s embarrassing…” / “Maybe I need to do some more reading.” / “Listen, everyone has bad performances sometimes.”

Noticed something: "Hold a moment, what's that?" / "If my eyes don't deceive me..." / "Hey, do you see that? Right there."

Combat start: “Gorum, guide our blades!” / “Desna, give us luck!” / “I’ll carve them to pieces!”

Critical hit/killing blow: “That will make a fine song!” / “The world is watching me!” / *Roars in rage*

Low health: “Gah, that actually hurts…” / “You’ll pay for that with your life!” / “Regrettably, I’m not invincible…”

Knocked unconscious: “O-oh, n-not again…” / “I’m s-so sorry, I’m weak…” / “Damn it, I’m stronger than this…”

Unable to use/equip something: "What am I supposed to do with this?" / "I... Don't think that's how that works." / "Well. This is useless."

After taking her to bed: "Please, stay a while longer... Let me keep you warm." / "Ah, that was... T-that was very nice. You're so soft..." / "I could stay here forever, but we have work to do. I'll be thinking of you..."

Provide some examples of companion banters!

Hilde: “So, Arueshalae, how are you liking the road? Travel is one of Desna’s greatest blessings! The long days, the endless sights… In my opinion, it’s even better than dreams!”

Arueshalae: “I am used to traveling, though the company does improve it. I guess I’ve never really thought of that as a blessing from Desna… But still… I wish I could have a dream. Even if only to compare the two.”

Hilde: “I’ve always been curious if there’s a deeper culture to demons. Do you have songs, poems, stories? Could you share some, maybe?”

Arueshalae: “I think there are some, but they’re all ugly, glorifying death and slaughter. You wouldn’t enjoy them.”

Arueshalae: “How is it that you can trust me after seeing all the pain and death demons bring. Are you not afraid of me and my past?”

Hilde: “I trust a sinner trying to reform herself far more than I trust someone so drunk on self-righteousness they don’t realize they’re doing wrong. I know you won’t mess your redemption up.”

Arueshalae: “You tell such lovely stories. I’d like to see the places you talk about someday…”

Hilde: “How about we go see them, then? After the war is over, I promise I’ll show you around this beautiful mortal world.”

(If Arueshalae is being romanced) Hilde: "I know you'll break free someday, Arueshalae. The prison around one's heart is the worst one of all, but love is the perfect key to release you."

Arueshalae: "Love... I... I hope someday I'm worthy of feeling that. Maybe then I'll be free from this. Until then, I can only try to learn what it is to love. Could you maybe tell me another mortal love story?"

(If neither Hilde nor Arue are being romanced) Arueshalae: "I just wish I could too love someone and be loved in return... To spend long nights together, holding each other... It would be so wonderful."

Hilde: "Arueshalae, you're beautiful, kind, strong, wonderful in every way! Anyone would be lucky to be able to love you. I, ah... I would be happy to try to help you learn how to love..."

Camellia: “Oh, my pack is so heavy. If only some big, strong lady would carry it for me, I’d be so grateful! Oh, hello there Hilde!”

Hilde: “Carry it yourself, or find another fool who will do your work for you.”

Camellia: “I am sick and tired of being stuck out here in the woods with no amenities. Not even a proper washroom!”

Hilde: “And I’m sick of having to share a camp with a vapid, prissy noblewoman who’s never had to struggle in her life.”

(If Camellia is being romanced) Camellia: "My, what's with that glare? Perhaps our dear barbarian is jealous of me being on the Commander's arm instead of her?"

Hilde: "Jealous? Ha, hardly. I was just contemplating how men all have horrible taste in women. If you need proof, just look at our Commander, for all his positive traits!"

Daeran: “My, who would have guessed the cold north would produce such a holy, amazonian beauty…”

Hilde: “Clearly you’ve never been to the north. And I do apologize, but you’re too masculine for my tastes.”

Hilde: “I am curious as to how someone so cruel and uncaring came to be such a skilled healer.”

Daeran: “Oh, I’m afraid it’s not a story fit for your glorious sagas. And not a story I enjoy recalling.”

(If Daeran is being romanced) Hilde: "Answer something for me, Count. Did you charm the Commander by showing your hidden soft side, or do they just enjoy being belittled by a vapid nobleman?"

Daeran: "I like to think it's a little bit of both. Let's just say I have a silver tongue in more ways than one..."

Ember: “You’re so strange. I know you don’t like hurting people, but then you look so happy when you’re in the middle of battle.”

Hilde: “I’m not happy when I’m fighting, but it is satisfying to crush your enemies underfoot. But I still prefer to just be a humble poet telling her stories.”

Hilde: “I… Lost my mother in a bad winter. I don’t remember her, but Father raised me. For better or for worse…”

Ember: “Even if you resent him and he wasn’t always perfect, I think he still really cares about you. And you care about him.”

(If Hilde is being romanced) Ember: "Your songs have changed lately. You're always singing about love now, it's so sweet!"

Hilde: "A-ah, I... I suppose I have. Well, I... I am in love. It feels nice to say that out loud."

Hilde: “You’ve traveled all over the world and the only stories you can share is who you’ve killed and how? That’s boring, killing tells me nothing about the places you’ve been! Tell me about the food, the people, the sights!”

Greybor: “I’m really not that interested in the food or sights, just the jobs. Are only some murders good enough for your grand sagas?”

Greybor: “You’re a damn good fighter, how come you’re so good at it if you’d rather live as a cushy poet?”

Hilde: “Fighting is nothing more than a means to an end for everyone. For me, it’s a means to find inspiration for my poetry.”

Hilde: “It’s probably best for your daughter that you don’t return home. An absent father is better than a bad one, take it from me.”

Greybor: “That managed to hurt a lot more than everyone saying I should go back to her. Kudos to you.”

Lann: “So, you’re the chieftain’s daughter, next in line to lead? And you just abandoned your tribe to go wandering? I don’t understand you.”

Hilde: “I didn’t abandon my tribe, I left because I wasn’t wanted. Father made that quite clear from the day I was born. I don’t see how it’s different from you leaving to join the Crusade.”

Hilde: “It’s nice to meet someone else that knows what it’s like to rough it. Some winters, it felt like I was providing half my tribe’s food.”

Lann: “Only half? Joking, of course. Never really had to deal with winters underground, it was just always hard to find food. Out here feels like a bounty in comparison.”

(If Lann is being romanced) Hilde: "A date that's also sparring... Ha, thanks for the idea, Lann! That would fit right in back home."

Lann: "See, I knew it wasn't that strange of an idea! I'm just surprised it actually worked."

Nenio: “Aasimar girl, did you know that the Land of Linnorm Kings is only ever united under a single leader by one who slays a true linnorm?”

Hilde: “Of course I know the laws of my home. Say, Nenio, do you want to help me find a linnorm so you can get an interview with the new Linnorm Queen?”

Hilde: “Nenio, please ask permission before you pluck my hair. It hurts. OW! What did I just say?”

Nenio: “Hold still, aasimar girl. I’ll need a few more strands if I want to both measure the luminosity of aasimar hair and discover what form of celestial you are descended from.”

(If Sosiel is being romanced) Nenio: "I am confused. In all my experiments, I have never seen an impromptu orchestra like that! Aasimar girl, could you shed some light onto this?"

Hilde: "Nenio, how have you not done any experiments on love and how it turns people into fools?"

Regill: “You nearly cut my head off with a swing in that last battle. Were this a Hellknight unit, I would have you court-martialed. Your lack of discipline is endangering us all.”

Hilde: “Good thing this isn’t a Hellknight unit, then. But if it were, death would be a relief. I really don’t see what you’re so upset about, I didn’t take your head off!”

Hilde: “One would think you’d like being in a group that appreciates the value of spontaneity. It’ll slow your Bleaching, that’s for sure!”

Regill: “That assessment would only be true if I wanted to stop the Bleaching. I am more concerned for the success of our mission.”

(If Hilde is being romanced) Regill: "While chronicling history is an important pursuit, it is absolute folly to waste time recording meaningless romantic notions."

Hilde: "I write what I feel. Normally, I feel like learning and recording what I see. Today, I feel in love! I only hope you find someone to warm that cold grey heart of yours."

Seelah: “Hey, sister! Today’s the day I drink you under the table!”

Hilde: “I doubt it! You’re always welcome to challenge me, but you’re a long way off from being able to outdrink an Ulfen.”

Hilde: “So, be honest with me. You’re not really a paladin, right? I’ve never met a follower of Iomedae that likes to laugh, and doesn’t insult a barbarian like me and her heathen magic.”

Seelah: “I guess I’m a bit of a rare breed, then! I’ll take it as a compliment.”

(If Arueshalae is being romanced) Hilde: "I'm so happy for her... But a small part of me feels sad. I suppose I wish I could have been the one to show her how to love... Ugh, what's wrong with me?"

Seelah: "Nothing's wrong with you! You just had a little crush, and got let down. Happens to all of us! Come on, let's get a drink."

Sosiel: “Your sagas and songs are lovely, but they all glorify war and battle. Do you truly see beauty in that?”

Hilde: “Of course I do. There’s beauty in everything, including war, heroism, and combat.”

Hilde: “I wish I could paint as well as you, Sosiel. My sketches are so rough by comparison.”

Sosiel: “And I wish I could write poetry as lovely as yours. We all have our own talents, and yours is no less beautiful than mine.”

(If Hilde is being romanced) Hilde, singing: “The color of my true love’s hair, her lips are like a rose so fair… She’s got the sweetest face and gentlest hands, I love the ground whereon she stands…”

Sosiel: “I’ve never heard you sing of such romantic affairs. It’s beautiful. My congratulations on your love.”

Wenduag: “You, aasimar girl, you know how harsh the world is. Why do you spend half your time on useless songs and stories and half on training, when you should be spending all of it becoming stronger!”

Hilde: “Stronger is relative. My ‘useless’ songs and stories give me another kind of strength, one I wouldn’t expect you to understand. And besides, my life would be dull if I spent all my time getting better at fighting.”

Hilde: “Here we go everyone, fresh boar meat! Killed it, purified it, and cooked it myself!”

Wenduag: “You killed this thing yourself? Hmm, maybe you’re stronger than I gave you credit for. But why would you cook it…?”

Woljif: “Being an aasimar must be nice. Everyone loves ya, thinks nice things about you and Heaven and beauty, you get a nice cushy childhood! Tieflings though, that’s another story!”

Hilde: “Back home, being an aasimar just means everyone expects twice as much as you. It doesn’t compare to what you’ve been through, but my childhood was far from cushy.”

Hilde: “Alright, you annoying little thief, where’s my poetry book? That’s private!”

Woljif: “How would I know! I think you’re just accusing - Ow, my arm! Oh, hey, what do you know, it was in my pocket! You can have it right back, buddy! I was just curious…”