#for the record i despise most characters these days

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part one)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

author’s note thank you to this anon!! this fic deviates from canon. timeline is s2 when rafe is at his most unhinged.

» masterlist

disclaimer there is no explicit s/xual assault scene in this story, but it is referenced and the trauma that comes with surviving it is explored. it is committed by an original character. when writing this, i pulled from personal experience, so please be mindful that if you comment, do not engage in any victim-blaming as it is triggering to me and others.

·········

In a single harrowing moment, you’ve learned that there’s truth to the expression that the enemy of your enemy can be your friend.

Rafe looks all too comfortable holding a gun. The rage coursing through you is deafening, persuading you that the person he’s pointing it at deserves to die.

And then, you utter the words rising in your throat.

“Do it.”

╰┈➤ two days earlier

Your shifts at the country club are a repetitive motion of driving over the golf course’s hills, handing the island’s wealthiest people their overpriced drinks, and accepting their money with a fake smile.

The job was always a predictable bore. Until a week ago, when you started seeing a familiar face.

The moment Rafe’s eyes landed on you and he realized that one of the Pogues he revels in berating is the new cart girl, his lips twitched into a smirk.

Every time you see him, he does the same thing. He orders a beer and says here you go, sweetheart when he tips you.

It’s always a fifty. No other club member gives you nearly this much. It’s like he loves reminding you that this type of money is pocket change to him.

Every time you serve him, you subdue your glare and take the crisp bill that sits between his fingers, wondering why even though the man is an arrogant asshole, you can’t stop staring at him.

You feel weak for not hating him all the way. You can’t help that over the years of your tense, sporadic interactions, a part of you has always wondered if he feels the same pull of attraction that you do.

You have to remind yourself of who he is. A man committed to letting everyone know how much better he thinks he is because he was lucky enough to be born into money. He’s heartless. And you can’t wait for the day that you finally rid yourself of this fixation you have for him.

It’s a sunny Thursday afternoon at the end of a long shift and you’re parked by one of the paved pathways on the course, recording your last transaction in your logbook.

You hear the familiar whirring of a cart passing by. It stops. You don’t think much of it until you hear his voice.

“We’ll take two beers,” he calls from behind the steering wheel. You look up to see him. Rafe.

“I’m obviously off duty,” you reply curtly, looking between him and his friend.

“What, so you can write in your diary, but you can’t give us some drinks?” he calls.

“It’s a logbook,” you reply coldly. “It’s called having–”

You flatten your lips together, trying to control yourself.

“Having…?” he challenges. The mocking tone of his voice is what makes you snap.

“A job,” you reply. “Not everyone can live off of daddy��s money.”

Rafe huffs a laugh, a wisp of amusement flashing on his face.

“Careful, Pogue,” he says. “What’ll your boss say if he knows that’s how you’re talking to me?”

“I’m off the clock, Kook,” you say the label with the same vitriol. “I can talk however I want.”

You close your book and start up your cart before he can irritate you any more. Even though there’s something aggravatingly magnetic about him, you refuse to allow him to taunt you any longer.

·········

You meet up with your friends on the beach that evening, zoning out as the three of them chatter around you, passing a joint you brought.

You stare ahead at the soft waves under the setting sun, thinking of Rafe’s cold stare, thinking of the smirk he seems to always have etched on his face reserved especially for you, thinking of how you wish your body would catch up with your mind because how can you dislike somebody this much but also be so attracted to them?

“Who’s your plug?” JJ asks, seemingly impressed. He pulls you out of your daze as he passes you the joint. Smoke curls out of the end of it, twisting in the wind.

“That guy, Porter,” you say flatly. You take a puff, thinking back to the shaggy-haired Kook who approached you at a party on the north side of the island the other night, offering you half the price on your first buy.

He also tried to convince you to try something harder, but you told him you’re sticking to pot. You weren’t about to get hooked on coke, especially not because a drug-dealing Kook wants to take more of your money.

You continue to stare ahead, passing the joint along.

“What a trust fund kid name,” JJ laughs. “Fuckin’ Porter.”

Your friends chuckle around you, but you continue to stare ahead.

“Hard day at the office?” he says in response to your absentmindedness. You meet JJ’s gaze, shaking your head as if to dismiss your own thoughts.

“Rafe is such an asshole,” you say.

“What’d he do this time?” Pope asks. Your friends await your response, already well aware of your history with the bullshit you’ve ever had to deal with at work lately.

“He said something about ratting me out to my boss for talking back to him,” you reply. You scoff, getting mad all over again. You need to pull yourself out of this funk. “Whatever. All I do is complain about him. He’s not worth it. This is the last time you’ll ever hear me talk about him. I mean it.”

You make an effort to join in your friends’ conversations, feeling guilty that you’re so spaced out. With parents who never give you much attention at all, the guys surrounding you are your family. Your brothers. They deserve better than to hear you ramble on about Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes travel over the silhouettes sitting along the darkening shoreline when he arrives at the beach with his friends.

It’s the sound of his pick-up truck’s door shutting that gets your attention. You look over your shoulder. Then, you glance away, indifference on your face.

It pisses him off. Rafe has always craved what he can’t have. Power. Self-control. You. Every time he talks to you, you act like he’s such a bother, a sharp thorn in your side.

You get under his skin. And he’s never wanted a girl this bad. A goddamn Pogue of all people. Something about you lures him in. It makes him want to see what really lies behind the irritation that burns in your eyes every time he speaks to you.

He needs to crack your armor. And he has always loved a challenge.

As the beach populates, the division between the Kooks and the Pogues is clear, as if an invisible line is drawn in the sand. He stays on his side, you stay on yours.

When night falls, you and your friends have all smoked through the entire joint, and you’re a bit buzzed but not nearly as high as you’d like to be.

You spot Porter by the shoreline, drinking with his friends, and dust the sand off your knees when you stand up.

“I’m gonna go buy some more,” you say to your friends.

“Going into enemy territory?” JJ asks.

“It’s nothing new to me,” you laugh. “I work in enemy territory, remember?”

“You need company? Or cash?” John B asks.

“All good. My treat,” you say. “I’m loaded with tips.”

You don’t mention that a majority of the money in your pocket is from Rafe.

As you approach the boisterous group, you cross your arms and feign confidence. In reality, being around these types has always put you on edge.

Kooks give off a sense of invincibility, almost impunity, like predators at the top of the food chain, perpetually safe from harm and always on the brink of inflicting it.

You notice Rafe’s stare on you from his place in the large group and your stomach twists. Your eyes flit off of him and you wonder how it’s possible to wish someone would stay away but also so deeply crave they’d come closer.

Truthfully, within the tangled way he makes you feel, you’re kind of scared of Rafe, too. He’s reckless and unpredictable. And yet, that side of him excites you. There’s a complexity to him that has an inescapable effect on you.

“You holding?” you ask Porter once you approach him. He’s one of the few Kooks you don’t mind so much. He doesn’t have the cold air of arrogance that you’re so used to.

“It’s good shit, isn’t it?” he says with a smile. “How much you want?”

You leaf through the bills in your hand.

“Just a joint,” you say. The waves crash behind you, almost drowning your voice out. You make the exchange and push through the crowd, eager to get back to your friends.

You thought you managed to get away without any complications, but two words stop you.

“You lost?”

You turn to see Rafe, overwhelming heat rushing through you as he closes the distance between you, towering over you as the breeze brushes his hair over his forehead.

“What, ‘cause I’m on your side of the beach?” you mutter. “Grow up.”

Rafe smirks. He gets such a kick out of fucking with the Pogues. Especially you.

“Is that what you’re spending my tips on?” he asks, eyes darting down to the joint in your hand.

“Yeah,” you answer. “You can tell your father I say thanks.”

Rafe’s mouth curls into a bigger smile. When he looks at you like that, like he wants to be around you, you wonder if he secretly enjoys your company.

“How long you been buying from him?” Rafe asks.

“Why?” you say. The way you glare at him makes every muscle in his body tense. He’d be an idiot to deny how attracted he is to you. “You gonna tell my boss?”

“It was a fucking joke,” he mutters with a laugh. “You Pogues all have sticks up your asses, I swear.”

You grit your teeth. He’s clearly pleased when he riles you up like this. You don’t understand how somebody could be so spiteful.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you say.

Silence settles between you, the chattering of people on either side of the beach intertwined in the air, an overlap of worlds far apart. He reminds himself that he has something important to ask you.

“Did he offer you anything else?” he says. You’ve already heard the gossip about how Rafe’s selling coke now. He must want to offer you a better price.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you reply. Rafe scoffs, his tongue jutting under his cheek as he takes you in.

“I’d never sell to you.”

You huff a flat chuckle. You’re tired of his juvenile obsession with the class divide that sits between you.

“So, I’m good enough to serve you drinks, but not good enough to buy your drugs?”

You feel a sick sense of satisfaction when his face hardens with anger. For a second, you worry that you’re just as spiteful as he is, that you’re no better than him.

Rafe scoffs. He’s seen what coke does to people. To himself. He refuses to see it happen to you. But of course you expect the worst of him. Like everyone else does.

“Did he offer you anything else or not?” Rafe repeats with a note of irritation.

“Why?” you sputter.

“I need to know if he’s trying to steal from me.”

Rafe refuses to be in competition with anyone. Other Kooks can sell weed all they want, but coke is his territory, and if he has to claim his territory, so be it. He’s heard rumblings that Porter’s expanded his offerings now. And Rafe isn’t going to let him fuck him over.

“He did,” you finally answer. “Coke. He said it’s the purest on the island.”

He only nods tersely, lips twisting in frustration, before he turns around and storms away from you. So, that’s all he wanted from you. Information.

“You’re welcome,” you half-shout. Curiosity pulls you in as your eyes follow him into the crowd. Sure enough, Rafe pushes Porter to the ground, shouting indistinctly, earning jeers from the crowd.

It’s typical. Nearly every time you see Rafe out socially, he’s yelling and fighting someone. You walk back to your friends, hoping you can shake off the feeling he left you with.

·········

The only thing getting you through your shift the next day is that tomorrow is a holiday. The night of the Fourth of July is an escape from the stresses of your life, an excuse to get wasted with your friends under the fireworks and let yourself drift off into oblivion.

After you clock out, you’re pacing through the country club’s bar when you hear your name called from the patio. You look to see Porter sitting at a table with a couple of friends, his smile wide.

“Didn’t know you worked here,” he says when you approach.

“Yeah, I’m a server on the course,” you explain. You almost expect him to ignorantly ask for a drink, but have to remind yourself that he’s not like Rafe.

“How is it?”

“It’s fine.”

“Come on, we won’t tell,” Porter chuckles. “You hate it, don’t you?”

“Only sometimes,” you reply with a laugh. “Depends on the day. And on the person I’m dealing with.”

“Fair enough,” he says. He pulls out his phone, punching in the password. “I meant to tell you last night that you should have my number. You know, for when you need to stock up.”

You take his phone, cluing in that he’s making himself more accessible to you for the next time you need to buy from him. As you text yourself his name, one of the men at the table motions to Porter.

“Bro,” his friend says, gaze trained ahead. Porter looks past you to the bar and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Can’t escape him,” he sighs.

You follow his eyeline to spot Rafe at the bar with a friend, dark liquor sitting in the glass he’s holding.

“Not a fan?” you ask.

“Is anyone?” Porter laughs. “He’s a nutcase.”

“Don’t let him hear you,” his friend murmurs.

“Yeah, he’ll kill you,” the other guy laughs.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Porter replies.

Your eyes linger on Rafe a second longer than they need to. Your curiosity for why he’s the way he is is like a flame that won’t burn out. He has everything he could possibly want. Why is he so mean?

“Yeah,” is all you can say. You turn around again and give Porter his phone back.

“Oh, there’s a party at my beach house tomorrow night. My neighbor does this crazy fireworks thing every year,” he tells you. “I’ll text you the address.”

You nod appreciatively, glad that at least some of the rich people you deal with don’t buy into the idea that you’re beneath them.

·········

It’s nearing nine p.m. when you make it to the beach house the next night. The guys are rambling on behind you as you step inside the massive, humid house, filled with chattering people and loud music.

“Where are your car keys?” Pope asks.

“Right here,” JJ says, jingling them in front of his face. “Do I need to show you every five minutes?”

“I’ll just take them,” Pope says, grabbing them and stuffing them in his pocket. “You can’t be trusted.”

“It was one time,” JJ says. You laugh as you think of last weekend when he’d lost his car keys at a party in the Cut.

“Yeah, and we had to search the sand for, like half an hour,” you remind him.

“You know what I’m not hearing?” JJ says. “A thank you for driving all the time.”

“Remind me, who actually drove last time?” John B asks. “And who was hurling in the backseat?”

JJ scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m a man of honor,” he says. “I’m not not going to chug when I’m told to chug.” His eyes fix on something across the room. “Speaking of…”

He heads towards the keg and you and Pope share a disapproving shake of your heads. You follow your friends, grabbing a solo cup and sipping on beer.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a text from Porter: You here? Want to buy?

You’ve already smoked through the joint you bought two nights ago and quickly reply: yes.

He texts: come upstairs.

“I’ll be right back,” you quickly tell your friends before you push through the crowd.

You duck under the string tied across the bottom of staircase, a sign that warns partygoers that it’s off limits hanging in the middle. One door is open in the upstairs hallway. You see Porter sitting on a bed, rolling a joint on a book that’s sitting in his lap.

“Hey. Got a fresh one for you,” he says.

“Thanks.” You dig into your pocket. “Same price?”

“Sure.” He cocks his head. “It’ll take a while. You can come in and chill.”

You sit at his desk close to the door, talking as he packs the thin white paper.

When he stands up, instead of giving the joint to you, he darts across the room abruptly. Your brows knit in confusion when he shuts the door, the loud music reduced to muffles now.

“What are you doing?” you ask, fear twisting your heart in a vise.

He must have read things wrong.

You assume he’ll stop when you tell him no.

He doesn’t.

·········

You fall to the hard floor. You grip the edge of the bed, hardly any light spilling into the room from the hallway as you blink rapidly to gain your bearings.

A loud slam was what woke you up. You don’t remember falling asleep. You don’t even know where you are.

Two shadowy figures stand on the other side of the room. One roughly pushes the other to the floor. You stay still, peeking over the bed. Your body is trembling with pain and you don’t know why.

“Do you think I’m joking?” a man spits.

You know that voice. It’s Rafe.

“Dude, relax,“ the man on the floor says.

You might be sick. It’s Porter on the floor, whimpering like an idiot. You remember why your body is aching now.

He hurt you. He hurt you and you retreated into your mind and you fell unconscious. A cold swirl of anger and disgust and sadness twists your stomach into a knot.

“I told you to stay out of my fucking way,” Rafe shouts. “Where’s your stash?”

“In the desk,” Porter says quietly. “Just take it. I’ll stick to selling weed, okay? You have my word.”

You watch from the floor, Rafe’s broad figure leaning to pull open drawers and shove items off the desk, objects clattering on the floor in the dark. They don’t know you’re here.

Consciousness slowly grips you. Rafe confronted him about selling coke. He told him to stop. And Porter didn’t listen.

Your eyes flood with hot tears. He didn’t listen to you, either.

You just want to leave. To get out of this horrifying room. To figure out how to put yourself back together after surviving one of the worst ways a person can break another.

Loud fireworks abruptly crack in the sky, startling you, shining light in through the window. And that’s when you see it. Porter is by the other side of the bed, still on the floor, and in his raised hand, something is gleaming.

A gun.

“Rafe!” Your throat is dry, sore from the way you’d screamed.

He suddenly turns towards you, confusedly finding your face across the room. Then, his gaze snaps down at Porter. He notices the gun. And he lunges.

You stand on shaky knees as you watch Rafe land vicious punches, every blow making Porter groan.

“Gonna pull a gun when my back is turned, pussy?” Rafe bellows. “Really?”

You round the bed, staring in horror, your mind still in fragmented shambles. You’d told Porter to stop so many times and every strike of Rafe’s knuckles against his jaw gives you a jolt of satisfaction, a desire for him to suffer more.

He was never a nice guy. He’s just like all of them. A predator.

Rafe scrambles to his feet, heavily breathing as fireworks continue their pops and sizzles over the beach.

The gun is in his hand now. His heart is thrumming, his blood boiling hot. He could’ve died. If you didn’t call his name, he could’ve lost his life.

Rafe’s steady and firm, holding the weapon still, a sharp contrast to how hard you’re shaking.

“Do it,” you say. Rafe’s eyes finds yours, his lips parted, blood splattered on his face. It’s not his. Porter didn’t land any punches. Rafe beat him that badly.

“What?” Porter cries. “Are you insane?”

He’s staring up at both of you through wide eyes as the barrel of the gun remains directed at him. You imagine how terrifying you must look to him, standing over him in the dim room with his pathetic life in your hands.

“Me?” you mutter. Hatred courses through your veins when you glare at him as he lies on his side, bloodied and weak.

The power has shifted into your hands. He was the one looking down at you earlier, hurting you. And now that your body is yours again, you don’t hesitate to kick him in the stomach.

He grunts when you make contact, his body curling forward.

Rafe watches, rendered speechless. He thought he’d seen you angry before. He hasn’t. This is new. This is pure rage. This is a level of wrath he didn’t know you were capable of.

Even through the darkness, Rafe can see that your eyes are shiny with tears when you turn your head to look at him again.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” you snap, your words dripping with agony and rage. “If you don’t do it, I will.”

Rafe is powerless against the angry, malevolent instinct that’s guided him all his life. He doesn’t think.

The blow of the gun cuts through the air.

Your breath catches.

And he’s just a body. Lifeless on the floor. Gone.

You look up at Rafe. Your chests are heaving, broken and shaky breaths spilling out of your mouths. The colors lighting up the night sky tint your tear-streaked face. He’s never seen agony personified. He has now.

You glance down at Porter again. His mouth is agape. His eyes are shut. Forever. Forever.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper. Hot tears fall over your cheeks so quickly that you fear they’ll never stop. The adrenaline escapes you like water spinning down a drain, replaced with a bottomless dread.

Rafe realizes he’s still pointing the gun. He lowers his arm, his palm sweating against the grip. He had to do it. He had to. He didn’t know that taking a life would feel this good. He doesn’t feel a shred of regret or remorse. For once, he has real power.

But then he watches the way you sink down to the floor.

“What did we…” you whisper, words rushed. “What did we do? Rafe, what did we do?”

There’s a dead body next to you. Cold permeates your bones. You know it’s the type of chill that will never leave you.

Rafe kneels in front of you. The gun hits the floor with a heavy thump. The air smells like gunpowder, fried and smoking. He’s trying to meet your eyes, but your gaze is skittering around as you sit, crumpled and trembling.

“Hey,” he says clearly.

You’re staring at the ground, your breaths shallow.

“Hey,” he repeats louder. Finally, you look at him. “It was self-defense.”

You nod weakly, processing how within a second, you’ve tangled yourselves together into a knot that you can never unravel. Rafe pulled the trigger, but you told him to. And you’re sure you would’ve done it yourself if Rafe didn’t. You’re murderers.

Rafe’s hand is an inch away from you, almost putting it on yours, almost touching someone with tenderness instead of anger for once. You saved his life. You loathe him, but you saved his life, reacting in a split second.

“Why were you even up here?” he asks.

“Just be glad I was,” you say, hoping it’s enough to satisfy him.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he mumbles. “Thank you.”

If you weren’t so shellshocked, you’d laugh. You never expected Rafe to have manners, and you never expected that if he did, it’d be a show of gratitude for helping him kill somebody.

Nausea pools in your gut at the reminder of why you were so angry. Did Porter plan it? Did he always have his sights set on you, like a vulture circling the sky, ready to attack?

What happened earlier tonight flashes through your mind. He deserved to die. He did something unforgivable. He said things about how girls always do this, they always tease but never give it up.

You didn’t just save Rafe. You saved all the girls who were fated to cross that monster’s path. You pushed a soul to its death, but it was one not worthy of life.

Rafe stares at you as you blink rapidly, your mind clearly racing.

“He rip you off or something?” he asks, at a loss for why you’d encourage him to pull the trigger.

Of course Rafe thinks it’s about money. That’s all that matters to him.

“Yeah,” you lie, voice cracking. You can’t tell him. You can’t relive it. Especially with someone who you know is cold-blooded. Someone who might blame you for coming up to this bedroom in the first place.

Tease. Porter called you a tease while you pleaded for him to stop. You drop your head in your hands, chest stuttering with your breathy cries, remembering how he’d hurt you.

Rafe stares at you, confused, wondering how you could be so angry and vengeful and ruthless, just to regret it a second after the bullet left the chamber.

“We had to do it,” he states.

“I know,” you tell him. You wipe your cheeks with your palms, well aware that he could never understand why you’re really crying. “We’ll just tell the truth.”

He shakes his head at you.

“Tell who the truth?” Rafe mutters, his stare hard. “We’re not telling anybody.”

Your breath shakes. He wants to hide this. To try to get away with it.

“What if someone heard the gunshot?” you murmur.

“Everyone’s outside,” he says. “And those stupid fireworks are so fucking loud. Nobody could tell the difference.”

You wipe your face again, considering his words. Your phone is buzzing in your pocket. Someone’s calling you. Surely one of your friends. Why didn’t you just tell them where you were going? Why didn’t you just have one of them come upstairs with you?

Impatience quickly rises in Rafe while you stay silent.

“I almost knocked him out the other night,” he says. “In front of everyone. You think backing me up would be enough for anyone to believe I was protecting myself?”

You chew on your bottom lip anxiously. Rafe has a reputation for being violent. Porter put up a front that he was a nice guy. His friends even said right in front of you that Rafe would kill him. Who’d believe that Porter actually pointed a gun first?

Besides, if you vouched for him, who’s to say they’d trust you? They could spin it and say Rafe paid off a Pogue to lie for him.

“And then the cops would dig and find out it was over coke,” Rafe sputters. “It’d be a fucking mess. We’re not telling anybody.”

He’s right. Confessing wouldn’t do you any good, either. It could go sideways and you could never afford a good lawyer.

Nobody deserves to be punished for taking down the evil, lifeless man lying on the floor. Not you. Not even Rafe. You won’t take the risk.

You gaze into Rafe’s eyes, finding comfort in the striking blue hue for the first time, feeling a newfound sense of loyalty to him.

He gave you vengeance in a world that would never punish the man who hurt you. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you whisper. “What do we do now?”

“We get rid of the body.”

next >

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[technically-a-kiwi]

I humbly request some core information I must know before I start drawing the cosmic chars for the next 2-9 days

just so I don’t mischaracterize any of them cuz then I would cry and I cry glitter mixed with acid

hum… core info you say ? 🤔

it’s a little hard, there’s no wrong or right way to go with them

in general the cast is a mix of chaos, silliness, otherworldly and MESSED UP. If you keep that in mind you’re already off to a good start

for each character tho hum…

well for starters, C Pep is just regular Peppino really x), stressed out and very impulsive in his emotions and actions. The major difference is that he has a much bigger knowledge about pretty much everything, basically you can bet that if you’re looking for something, he knows what you’re talking about and can give you precise details about it. Oh and of course, he’s basically like a sun here, any strong emotion will make him shift and go up in flames, everything in him is flames, he's just a big ball of flames.

For C Noise, again, it's just The Noise, chaotic, over the top, witty, and INSANE, but with the host attribute very exaggerated, passive agressif with every sentence and not taking his guests too seriously, often destabilizing them for a good laugh. He barely has a moral compass, willing to do anything for a good scoop, for a good program, create a kaiju fight in the middle of a city ? Let's go ! Change the color of the sky just to record people's reaction? Roll the cameras. All there is to know is he's basically a chaos god who records his mischief, always a smile on his face, he loves to mess with people, even with his fellow cosmic entities (to Peppino's displeasure) .

C Noisette is still Noisette, kind, bubbly, head in the clouds. She loves to talk, basically being a chatterbox, a little annoying if you're not into long conversations. She'll talk to anybody but C Noise, why ? Nobody knows, she'll always make the " >:( " face when she sees him, and promptly leaves, even if she's in the middle of a conversation.

C Pepperman is kind of the same as Pepperman, the self absorbed artist, marginal and very peculiar. He just DESPISE Peppino for holding the power of creation, either gaslighting or acting passive agressif toward him. Other than that he just acts like THE scholar of art, always bragging about his work, how his powers allow him to do what is impossible for mortals or talking about random art stuff (like composition, the meaning of colors...) and if you dare think he's annoying, you can bet he'll give you a lecture... Or turn you into a pepper... It depends...

C Vigilante is kind of different, he's just a very chill cheeseslime living in the country side of a cheese village, being the tired old man on the swinging chair, telling stories to younger cheeseslimes about the cosmic realm, legendary creatures, he takes care of his little farm, just living life you know. Although he's VERY paranoid about the cast coming over one day, he's convinced that they want to destroy him or his world, he's chill... But with a hint of stress...

The Ticket booth is very... Strange... It's actions are very aleatory, but it's fairly tamed. What he wants the most is for people to have a ticket, if you don't have a ticket, it won't bother to talk to you, if you want a ticket maybe he'll address you. If it considers you as some kind of threat (scammer, stealer, someone trying to kill a possible clients) that's when he unravels the horrors

C Pizzahead is kind of like Pizzahead, he's wiser than his classic counterpart, keeping the silliness for the stage only, but that doesn't stop him from cracking a joke or two here, a little prank there, he found the right amount of balance to be loved and unravel pure silliness. He's REALLY chaotic on stage (dangerous too...), but kind of a funny clown outside of the stage.

C Mr Stick is not much like og Mr Stick, he's stern, concentrated on his book, not caring much about stuff around him, he's not as interested in money as his counterpart, but he does love collecting more riches "hey, you're gonna use that 5 dollars ?" You see ? He's almost constantly the nose down his book, keeping track of everything and anything, you can ask him about the state of a random graph and he'll tell you ! When he's not counting or keeping track of stuff, he's building some random object, like an automatic spoon or paint thinner brush...

This took some time to write down oh my... I fear it's a little too much for being just the core, but I hope this will help you

[thatwavephenomenon]

The concept of Inquisitor Anders (and Justice) is so special to me actually. Everyone agree that everything the "regular" Inquisitor goes through/accomplishes is already mind-blowing. But for Anders to be the Inquisitor? The stakes would be even more impossible.

Anders thought he was going to die for what he had done, but Hawke spared him. After that he has to go on with no plan whatsoever, as best as he can while on the run as one of the most wanted man in Thedas. The only thing that is clear to him is that he has to keep helping the mage rebellion until he is either caught and killed, or until his Calling. All he has is borrowed time. So even as a fugitive, Anders' story is likely already written and over.

And then the Conclave happens, and Anders not only has his eyes glow blue sometimes, but he now has an occasionally green glowy hand as well.

So here he is, Anders the apostate, Anders the Kirkwall Chantry criminal, who has nothing but with *everything* to prove.

Remember. This is the man that gave everything that he had, everything he was to his cause. He fought for *years* in Kirkwall with his clinic, his manifesto, with the Mages Underground and still things worsened, with barely anyone listening to him until he blew the Chantry up. And now he has to convince everyone that he isn't responsible for the explosion at the Conclave? Right, as if his track record would permit that. How could he possibly be able to close the breach in the sky when he was the one who started the war between the templars and the mages in the first place?

The regular Inquisitor already has trouble proving themselves trustworthy at the beginning of DAI, so imagine it now with Anders. People would literally be out for blood. The Chantry would not only discredit the Inquisition as heretics, it would call for his immediate dissolution/destruction. Anders would also try to help all the refugees just like before in Kirkwall, while being the very reason these people lost so much in the first place this time.

Now on to the advisors and companions. How would Leliana, who also walk the path of violence for her cause, who is pro-mages but also had great faith in Justinia, interact with Anders? Even if Cullen has left the templars, could he and Anders even manage to cooperate after everything? Especially considering that Cullen was Meredith's second and the one who dismantled Anders' Mages Underground? How would Josephine and Anders work together to promote their cause, with how Anders must regard nobility after living in Darktown for years or after watching Kirkwall nobles interact with Hawke?

After investigating what happened in Kirkwall, Cassandra would probably be more than wary of Anders. But at the same time in DAI she is among the first ones to believe that the character must be the Herald of Andraste. I imagine that Cassandra would be particularly conflicted on how to treat Anders because of this.

Varric. Anders was his friend. Anders is the one who set Kirkwall on fire. For all that they know each other, things would probably still be tense between them at first. Varric also followed Hawke to see him rise from having barely anything to his name to becoming the Champion of Kirkwall. What would he think about Anders, a companion of the initial protagonist (or even protagonists, if you take into account DA Awakening), when he's now taking a path that seems to lead him towards becoming so much more? Especially considering that in DAI Varric struggles with how to perceive the Inquisitor, having to juggle between seeing the character as his friend (if you have a good relationship with him) and seeing them as an icon, the Herald of Andraste.

Anders and Vivienne would absolutely despise each other and their snark matches would be the stuff of legends. The only reason those two could even work together is if they agree that closing the breach takes priority over everything else.

I imagine that Anders, Justice and Solas would have some interesting conversations about spirits and the Fade while also butting heads on a lot of things. Both would be convinced that they are the authority on these subjects. But perhaps they would learn to eventually concede on some things with time.

I think Sera would really like Anders for his continued dedication towards helping people and his insistance to give up what he has for others. Sera's fear of magic and Anders absolute pro-mages stance would definitely cause more than one row between them however. Not to mention Justice. Their relationship would be one of the most interesting there in my opinion.

Blackwall would also be another greatly interesting character to watch interact with Inquisitor Anders. Anders would be able to tell that Blackwall is bullshitting about being a Warden from the get-go, because he was one and can sense the taint. Those two would definitely have some interesting debates on justice (and with Justice), or talks about how to go on and do good after having committed an atrocious crime. Blackwall's admiration for the Grey Wardens versus Anders "Oh yeah, I was a Warden once, then I just quit" attitude would also result in some great banters I'm sure.

Anders would say to Iron Bull that he is very different from all the other Qunaris that were in Kirkwall, though I don't know how that conversation would go. Iron Bull would also definitely be afraid of Justice. I can see him adressing the question/problem of Anders being an "abomination" quite directly, because he is not comfortable with spirits/demons that are capable of taking over someone's mind, and Anders is a living proof of that fear. Despite this, I like to imagine that Justice would actually grow to respect the Iron Bull in some parts after hearing the Chargers' stories about him and seeing how protective of them Iron Bull is.

Despite their different upbringings, I think Dorian would somewhat remind Anders of himself when we was younger/before he merged with Justice. If Hawke isn't a mage, I can imagine Anders' relief and joy about finally being able to talk to someone about magic normally and openly. They would have conversations about Tevinter, politics, etc. In DAI, the Inquisitor can inspire Dorian and support him in his fight to change Tevinter. With Anders as the Inquisitor, this aspiration for social changes could be even more relevant.

Cole and Anders/Justice interactions would be another cool thing to see. Justice would recognize Cole as a spirit of Compassion right away. Despite their differences as spirits, I could see Justice becoming quite protective of Cole and defending him against people like Cassandra or Vivienne, having an unfortonate amount of experience being treated as a "demon" or "abomination". Cole would also try to help Anders with his guilt of course.

Discovering that Corypheus is their enemy would be less of a "oh it's him again/oh okay this is the villain" moment and become a lot more personal, with the worry that Anders could fall under his control if he is not strong enough.

Meeting Hawke once again in Skyhold would be An Event for sure, espeeecially if Hawke and Anders were (are?) in a romance. I'm letting everyone imagine how that would go with their own Hawke here.

And The Choice in the Fade, you know the one, would be even more heart-wrenching. Particularly if the Warden is someone that Anders knows, like Nathaniel Howe or even the Hero of Ferelden/Warden-Commander.

Bonus: Anders could also meet Fenris by chance during a mission to eliminate some Venatori.

Anyways. I really like the idea of Inquisitor Anders, yes.

[thesharktanksdriver]

any way the wind blows (Platonic)

So I kinda watch records of ragnarok and became obsessed

This is platonic but later on I might make some romantic scenarios for a few characters

Y/n is based off of scaramouche fron genshin if he didn’t have mommy issues and was a decent person. Also left it gender neutral

Gods and humans had always been divide since the dawn of their creation

Molded from clay in their likeness yet considered inferior for their mortality

Despite the fact their creators were just as flawed (if not more) than they are

This was a reality that few knew or acknowledged, but one that Hephaestus had come to as he pondered one day in his lab

It was no secret he was hated by the others

For he is everything a god isn’t supposed to be

Their supposed to be beautiful and angelic yet he is ugly and deformed

Thrown from Olympus and experienced humans first hand before clawing his way back to his spot in the heavens

Given the most beautiful wife of them all who hates and despises his despite how hard he tries

He is scorned for simply existing just as humans are

Perhaps that’s why he finds better company in them than he does with his fellow gods

Though they are flawed beings they know that are not perfect

They embrace their flaws, and persevere despite how hard they are thrown down

They invent, create, destroy and rebuild again and again

Something in which the god of blacksmithing respects, for even the strongest blade can be melted down to create something even better

In his loneliness in his lab, deep within the smouldering smoke and bubbling magma of his volcanic home

Hephaestus longs to learn, to see, to hear but knows he cannot go to the surface world

So instead he decides to do what he does best

He decided to create his own human, one that would be imbued with the blessing of true immortality

For only something with a soul can be reaped, even gods face that fate if they are wounded enough

But if something doesn’t it will last forever

Hephaestus creates his magnum opus

His human

His child

“From finest clay your are molded, but within your veins lay no blood nor Ichor, but instead pure energy shall power you.”

You are created by his scarred and broken hands that are steady and firm

He makes you an epitome of beauty, something that he wishes he could be

For only something that is considered ugly can know what true beauty looks like

When your body is complete he imbues you with life through the lightning of Zeus

And then he lets the breath of zephyrs wind wake you

Through pure eyes you awaken and he helps you walk

Your like a newborn deer, shaking and buckling legs as you lean to him for help

You look at him with such kindness and innocence

And love

That one thing he had only wanted in his life from anyone

For the next couple of months he’s raises you, teaches you his craft and how to adapt

He is gentle but stern in his teachings, guiding yours hands and teaching you what he knows

Luckily your blessed by him to understand all languages and speak them as well

But despite spending months raising you he had not given you a name

Only calling you “my child”

When you ask of him why he hadn’t bestowed upon you a title he says he want you to decide

For you are worthy of picking it yourself when the time is right

For a long time you ponder

What shall that be

But it isn’t until he tells you to travel, to learn, to live and love like all humans that you decide your name

“And so you become a wanderer. Just know my child that if you ever need help I am at your call. My only advice is that humanity can be fickle but the gods are worse”

And so you begin your travels, through marshes and hills, or mountains to deserts

Through the valleys and into land that is lush in greenery of various kinds

From dusk to dawn you travel, stopping sporadically to stay in places that interest you, with people whom teach you before you leave for the road

It is a cycle

One that teaches you of humanity’s greed, pride, jealousy, rage, hate and despair

But one that also teaches you of their compassion, love, kindness, strength and their passion for surviving despite how the gods strike them down over and over again

They rebuild, they overcome and engineer a solution

For they only have themselves to rely on as the gods turned their backs to them

They adapt just as you do

But you are fundamentally different from them

An immortal being without a soul, one that looks and acts just as they do but retains thousands of years of knowledge you’d collected through experience

You aren’t a god but you aren’t quite human, yet you retain qualities from both

You are in between them but also something entirely different from either

You are you

And perhaps that is enough

“You and I have crossed paths, but our journeys will eventually diverge. Who knows what will happen next? Let's just wait and see.”

You end up meeting many humans (and some gods) in your journey’s but many stand out in your mind

One being the human who later would go onto become a demigod

Heracles who you knew as Alcides is someone you had met by complete accident when he was young

He was being bullied, pushed around and punched by children yet he still tried to put up a fight

He kept pushing on and standing up no matter how many times he was thrown down

You stepped in, sending the children running back scared whilst he gave you a toothy smile

Despite losing and being beaten down he was still optimistic

As you patched up the young boy he explained that those boys had been bullying him and his friends castor

That he never won against them but wouldn’t let them keep hurting his friend

It wasn’t righteous and he couldn’t stand for it

You can’t help but smile as he explains this, he was someone you’d only meet once in a blue moon

So you decide to offer him help

For the next couple of months you help the young boy train just as your father taught you

At first he fails

And fails some more

But he always returns to training no matter how beat down and tired he is

In his training your stern but encouraging

Teaching him to hone his strength and use it properly

It is then he begins to make progress

You show him how to stand up for the weak and to never waver in his righteousness

When you aren’t training him you spend time with him and Castor in Thebes

You buy them proper food and give some extra drachma to take home

They always feel a bit guilty about it but you assure them it’s no worry

You had plenty more (no, literally you had more money than you could spend from being a damn good blacksmith)

Figs are eaten as the three of you watch the sunset along with some honey drizzled fruit

They look up to you like a older sibling and it’s safe to say you view them as little brothers

But eventually as always you must eventually leave

Both are upset (especially Alcides) but on the night before you leave you take them to watch the sunset and stars once again

Eating ripe pomegranates as you explain each constellation that lights up the skies

“There is no need to be sad you two, perhaps we will meet again one day. Even if we don’t I will always be with you in memory and in what I taught. Just look to the stars and remember my stories”

That morning you leave but not before telling Alcides to keep up his training and to keep doing what he believes is right

You leave on horseback throwing to him a bag of coin with a sly smile

It’s many years later that you learn he became a god

A bit of pride swelling up in you along with worry

You can only hope he retained a bit of his love for humanity when he ascended to the heavens

another interesting human you meet is Qin Shi Huang

The first emperor of China with you as his personal Historian

The supposed cursed prince who was able to unite a shattered land under his power

Unlike others who still looked at hims with some semblance of hate or fear you always kept a small smile

Offering the knowledge he seeked with a certain something in your voice as you recounted tales of old

After a certain time he begins coming to you more, wanting to learn more

(Also using it as a way to get to know you. A mysterious traveler that somehow was so knowledgeable that despite being a foreigner ended up in court life)

You are outcasted much like he was when he was a child yet like him you bear it with a smile

When you talk with him the conversations start our formal

But in time he opens up as do you

Not about everything of course but about some of your travels and the sights you’d seen

From far spanning mountains that scraped the clouds to the green fields filled with wheat that made them look like fields of gold

He ends up wrapped up in those stories

At some point he’d come to call you friend

The only person after Chun Yan whom he’d let close to his heart

To see how he actually felt when he hadn’t locked it all behind a smile

As you get close to him rumours spread and it leads to you being harassed by several jealous court members

You don’t say anything, it’s not like it actually affects you anyways but when he learns

He is furious

It hurts him to know you were harmed because of him

That you were hated

Just like he was for actions that were not his own

But you brush it off simply telling him to give them a small punishment but nothing extreme

That in the end your alright and that you can’t really be mad at them

In their eyes your a foreigner who was in a position they could only dream about

It’s expected they’d get mad, maybe trying to drop a vase on your head was a bit much but in the end it didn’t hurt you

He reluctantly follows what you say but remains hesitant to let their actions go

Not long after this he tells you of his childhood, all the pain and loss

But how in the end he killed a god and united the land

There’s something in you that sparks at the “killing a god” part but he doesn’t ponder on it long

Instead the two of you talk

And for the first time you feel close enough to open up about not being human nor god

His ego probably gets a bit bigger when you causally mention that he’d likely go down in history

For your time as his historian he shows you in a lot of luxurious befit for royalty and high class nobles

Even years later you keep them, gifts you’d treasure for the rest of eternity and make sure to keep safe

He was born and bred in brutality so his rather violent ways aren’t much of a surprise but you try to help him find ways to temper it

To see that there are peaceful ways to end a fight

Around 4 years of staying there you know it’s about time to leave and Qin Shi isn’t very happy about it

He tells you as emperor that you couldn’t just leave

That as his historian you couldn’t up and go

As his only true friend

But those orders soon become pleads

And the authority in his voice drained as tears replaced it

During the month before you go he is at your side

Making new memories and silently dreading as hours and days fly by

He listens to more of your stories, to your personal accounts and how they differ to what’s told

And on that last day when the moon is full and you await a horse to take you on your next endeavour he stands by your side

And when the times comes for you to go he gifts you a bracelet commissioned just for you

He gently fastens it to your wrist

“A gift from me, a silent sign that you are forever the friend of the emperor”

“May our paths cross in the future my friend”

“Yes, let’s hope they do”

When he dies on a tour of his land at age 49 you somehow appear before his side as if sensing he was dying

His advisors are confused as he orders them to let you in but they do so in fear of the consequences

You might not agree with many of his actions you’d heard he committed but he was your friend

He passes holding your hand

The bracelet he once gave you is still worn to this day

He only wished he achieved immortality so you never had to deal with loosing yet another friend

But he is human and nothing can change that despite how you and he wish so

If you had a nickel for every time you ran into a human turned god you’d have two nickels

Weird it happened twice but your not complaining

You met Gautama Siddhartha the former prince of Kapilavastu as you took shelter beneath a tree when night fell

There you found him beneath the Bodhi tree that you took shelter beneath in a deep state of meditation

Until you politely asked if he was ok and he answered you

Compared to most you met Gautama is relaxed

He is in-tune with both himself and the world around him in more ways than he knows

You could already tell he was a legends in the making and decided to stick around for a bit to see where his journey would take him

Eventually as he reached enlightenment you grew curious as to why he remained on earth despite being able to go to the heavens above

But he tells you that his word isn’t done, that he wanted to spread what he had learned

To make people happy and to ease their suffering

It makes you happy

Never had you thought a god would do so but you assumed that because he was human before

That’s possibly why he still cared

Even years later when he does eventually go to the heavens you have a small Buddha statue in your possession of many items

As a way to honour him

You wouldn’t exactly call him friend (you didn’t know him long enough to do so though he’d disagree) but he is someone you’d certainly never forget

Raiden Tameemon is another you met curiosity enough at one of his Sumo matches

At the time you heard talk of a seemingly legendary fighter who had yet to lose a match and you wanted to check it out

You weren’t disappointed and began going to show up in the crowds who watched him

His strength was certainly admirable but so was his kindness in donating money back to his home town

So after a match you approached him and went with him for celebratory Sake

You kinda after that became drinking buds with him since other sumo wrestles didn’t seem keen on being around him

He is a lovely fellow one who you swear can eat a mountains worth of food and drink an oceans worth a anything

You on the overhand are technically the same m, you don’t need food or drink to survive you just have it to experience it’s taste and experience

He flirts with you quite a bit but you laugh it off

Taking them as compliments as you comment on his strength

His laugh is loud and boisterous as you both guzzle down more booze

You don’t really get drunk?, so your always the sober one who makes sure to get him home

To a normal person he’d be quite heavy but your able to carry him with no problem

Which gets quite a log of amazed onlookers as you carry him without so much as sweating

At his wrestling matches you’d always at the front of the crowd cheering for him

You know he won’t be defeated but you encourage him anyways

At some point he definitely uses your hat as a makeshift Frisbee despite you yelling at him

Sometimes during his drunken ramblings he talks of how he feels like a monster

You always assure him though that he is not

That he’s a man like everyone else

One who deserves love just like everyone does

It’s a rare moment but hearing that from you makes him cry a little

Perhaps he had waited a long time to hear that

He knows beforehand that you’d have to leave one day but when you do he says goodbye with a smile

He gives you a hug and pats your back with a blinding grin

You promise to catch another of his fights one day and you do

The last one before his retirement is spent with him drinking with you like for old times sake

Slurred singing and messy dancing as you and him walk side by side of the busy street as the moon is risen in the sky

He teaches you to laugh and enjoy a drink when times are rough

Every year though on the date of his death you honour him by having a sip of sake whilst watching the moon

For the moon had is the only remaining witness to those nights filled with laughter

Mr. Anonymous otherwise know as Jack (though your not sure that’s even his real name) finds you on his own

At the time you were briefly stopping off in Britain to check out the Industrial Revolution

So far it’s been disappointing to you and slightly disturbing as you’d seen young children be put on the workforce

Having to deal with hazardous materials and operate machinery that could rip them apart

Oh plus the buzz around the serial killer called “jack the ripper”

Now that in itself didn’t really interest you

But what did was how the media seemingly just ate it up

They speculated and theorized of who done it

Seemingly sickly enamoured by the mane who butchered innocent women who just were trying to get by

Those same victims seen as nothing more than side notes to the man himself

Their murderer

The ripper

At this point your not sure what’s worse, the idolizations of the killer or how the victims themselves are seemingly shamed for their profession

Anyways

Unbeknownst to you Jack had the uncanny ability to see people’s souls as colours along with their emotions

But for you there was nothing

Absolutely nothing except for sparks of electricity? Of sorts that buzzed around you

Ever the gentleman he offers you a spot at his table and even buys you a cup of tea

He insists and you allow him with a smile

You can never pass on a good drink and someone who wanted to talk

Eventually as day turns to night he offers to walk you to your hotel

Saying that London streets aren’t exactly friendly to those alone at night and you agree

It’s on that walk he reveals more of his true intentions

Still cordial and polite but you can tell he’s holding back getting violent if you did not respond

So you respond with the truth since if he attacked he’d figure out you weren’t human anyways

Safe to say he’s very fascinated

For the rest of your stay in England you stick around with him

By your choice as well

He is an interesting man but one that you nether the less find yourself enjoying the company of

He is upfront with you about how he is a killer

And how he goes by the Jack the Ripper moniker after killing the original

He knows he’s not a good person but despite that you see that maybe he’s selling himself short

There’s apparently a secret organization in London that tracks down and kills far worse scum of society

Killing the original Jack the Ripper is also a sign that to you be at least has some moral code of sorts

He brushes your comments off, though you can see that it seems to somewhat resonate with him

You and him often discuss Shakespeare especially since you had met the playwright and even acted in a few of his productions

Though you don’t have a colour he associates your soul with that of a rich Violet

A beautiful colour for someone as beautiful as you are in both body and metaphorical spirit

When your time in Britain is just about up you and him go to see Hamlet

It would be a night he’d never forget since it filled him with joy that he had not seen since the early days of his childhood

He felt at peace for once

Even when you leave you continue to mail to him

Telling him of your travels around the world and even sending a few small souvenirs

When he dies he’s at least glad to have had 1 true friend

“ Aphrodite?, heh. A wolf in sheep's clothing. To exert a higher level of control over people, she puts on a graceful and beautiful front. Most of those who have seen her true colours know of her cruelty”

Through your journeys unlike your many human friends you’ve meet a handful of gods in your time

You don’t go out of your way to meet them

But sometimes fate has different plans

And though those encounters are rare they remain in your mind

For a few examples

You meet Thor when Odin’s Raven Huginn was injured

He was sent to earth to deliver some sort of message and inadvertently got injured

And that’s when you found him, a bleeding mass of feathers in the snow

Yelling swears that would make even Loki blush

The bird is at first hesitant to accept your help

For he saw you as just as human but he reluctantly accepted once realizing he could get nowhere

So you brought the immortal pet of Odin back to your cabin to heal him

Whilst the raven is boastful and full of pride

He eventually begins to like your company as you engage in long conversation with him

Most gods brush him off as annoying so it feels nice being appreciated

He won’t admit it but he might’ve began to get attached

He might not like humanity but maybe your an exception

Once he is healed enough to fly it’s when he is able to alert Odin to his location

And a meeting place is made

You bring him out into the freezing cold

He’s talking and your making hums of acknowledgment as he talks about the gods

It’s somewhat interesting getting his view of them since yours is relatively negative (except for your father and Buddha)

And then he pauses

the talkative raven suddenly leaps from your shoulder and into the air

Flying high as you spot a man…no a god

Long red hair, markings covering his skin, piercing eyes and a large hammer resting upon his shoulder

When you get within a couple feet of him and Huginn the god stares you down

The Raven perched on his shoulder talking his ear off about how you had brought him back to health

It is then you learn the person in front of you is Thor, the strongest of the Norse pantheon

One whom you heard was battle hungry

Though other than that you don’t know much of him

You stand before the god of thunder unfazed

Huginn seems rather surprised at that fact but doesn’t make a comment on it

Perhaps even somewhat amazed at that fact

Thor offers you a reward though he doesn’t seem enthusiastic as he says this

Likely just following the orders from Odin

You quirk an eyebrow

“I don’t want a reward in money, I just have a question for you oh mighty Thor”

His eyes widen ever so slightly but he nods

“What is that?”

“What do you desire out of everything in the world, what is the one thing you want despite being an all powerful god?”

Now that makes him pause

Of all questions be certainly didn’t expect that nor did the Raven that begrudgingly found itself enjoying your company

He answers and your not surprised

“An equal. Someone i could fight full strength and be at match with. That’s what I desire”

You chuckle a bit at this

“I’m not surprised, but that did fulfill my suspicions. I wish the best to you, that you’ll find that one day. Maybe we’ll cross paths again”

And with that he nods and turns around

What surprises him though is when he feels something hit is back

He turns, there’s snow sticking to his hair

But then that-

Your gone, completely and utterly gone when he turns around

The furious wind carrying snow that covers up any footprints

He realizes that by throwing that snowball you were in some way teasing him

Something he’d normally be able to detect before you even threw it hit him like he was nothing

He searches for you for the next couple of years, always searching through crowds whenever he’d have to go to earth for whatever reason

It gave him a sense of something

He wasn’t sure what it was but he knew he wanted to challenge you

He needed to conclude that fight you begun but left for him to finish

But for him he would get to fight you again at a raid Vikings were doing against a village you were staying at

You couldn’t just there and do nothing so you geared up and ran into battle

And that’s when you noticed a familiar red haired god watching nearby

And he seemed to spot you as well since the next moment your engaging in battle with him

The battlefield around the two of you in an icy wasteland is accentuated by crashing thunder and biting lightning as you exchange blows

That the normal apathetic face filled with giddiness at someone finally living up to expectations

The raid is long forgotten as everyone evades the area and you do your best to lead the fight into a nearby wooded area

Trees are flattened by his infamous hammer that now pulsates and cracks at the seams

Flesh spilling out of it as it beats like a heart

You use the trees to bounce off and lead him deeper into the secluded area

Eventually you wear him out just enough to get a hit that sends him staggering back

You could go full power but you decide not to since you’d rather have some cards up your sleeve

And as he’s on the shattered ground, kneeling as a hand is placed over his bleeding chest he asks for your name

You just reply your a wanderer before disappearing into the brush

He’s found by Loki not long after who is confused and somewhat scared at the fact Thor of all people has an almost fatal wound

When he asks the red head simply replies he was training and nothing more

Content on keeping your existence a secret for his own sake of having an equal

Loki doesn’t need to be the god of lies and deception to tell he’s lying but says nothing

Another god you meet is Ares during wartime

You were on the battlefield not fighting but just doing your best to help those who were injured

You’d had a good amount of fighting in your life and had decided to do you best to help instead

And there on the battlefield, bloodied and victorious is the god of war

You locked eyes with him yet didn’t waver

Instead focusing on picking up a solider who had sustained a leg wound

He looks over the human who relies on you and at his uniform

One of the men on his side

Unbeknownst to him someone was foolish enough to try and sneak up on him

But you mouthed the words “behind you” to the god

Within an instant the man is dead and your taking the soldier back to his camp

A small interaction but one nether the less

Sometimes in war you see him but you avoid being seen

Disappearing within the blink of an eye

You’d rather not have your immortal status be known to the gods

There’s a bit of resentment you hold towards him for your fathers sake

Being a lover of your dad’s wife, the goddess of beauty herself

Whilst your father is resigned to the fact that his wife will never love him and goes behind his back constantly

You can’t help but feel angry for him because at this point he’s used to it

Speaking of which

Your father visits you every 5 years on the eve of your creation

Though as he said when you set out on your adventures you can call to him whenever you need him

As usual he is kind and caring

You recount to him your travels

Your friends and all of the advancements in technology the humans had made

He listens with a smile, eyes twinkling with joy at your happiness

On these occasions he almost always gifts you something he’s made

All of which you use on your journey like the satchel that no one but yourself can open

Or your now iconic kasa hat with a veil trailing behind it which was inspired from your times in Japan

And your clothes built to be able to be able to withstand your power when you use them

Hephaestus isn’t used to affection from being scorned by everyone

So he melts when you hug him or hold his hand

You never hesitate to do so and the first time you initiate the platonic action of love he cries

The god of smithing usually talks of his latest invention or what’s happening with the gods

The usual petty squabbles over any inconvenience

being invited to their council meeting every 1000 years yet again but not being told until last minute

He worries for not only you but also humanity

He sees the resentment and disgust the others hold for humans, despite the entire race being moulded after them

They don’t seem to acknowledge that humans are just as flawed as they are

He knows he can’t do anything though

So he just focuses on his worries for you

About how it must be to loose all your human friends

For they age and you don’t

A small part of him expects you to resent him for making you immortal

Yet you don’t

Though yes, it is hard to befriend people knowing you’d always outlive them

And while there were times in your life you had craved death

You came to realize how You enjoy the fact you’ve lived long enough to meet them in the first place

To be able to see how far humanity has come and how far it needs to continue

To watch empires crumble but new ones be rebuilt in their ashes

To meet people like Hypatia or Nicola Tesla, minds ahead of their time only to be recognized for their accomplishments later

Sometimes when he feels more alone than usual he looks at the little gifts you gave him

And it reminds him of how he’ll always have you

The one person who would ever give him love

Something that even his parents had denied him for something that isn’t even his fault

And unlike his uncaring mother and father he’d always give you his love

His care and support

For he knows that someone deprived of that can end up becoming cruel and angry

Just like he had for so many years until realizing there was nothing he could ever do to get that love

But now he realizes that’s ok

they deserve him nor his care

Only his child does

“You want me to introduce myself? I've gone by many names and titles during my journeys. they're all just water under the bridge to me now and you can Call me whatever you like…but y/n is what I originally gave to myself”

When the gods gather for yet another 1000 year meeting Hephaestus feels little need to go yet attends anyways

Perhaps to spite those who wanted him not to go

He sits in his seat of sculpted metal

Normally he barely listens but when the fate of mankind is brought up he becomes deathly aware

X’s are thrown up by almost every god

And he’s left confounded on what to do

He doesn’t put up a sign yet no one notices

And the normally stoic and calm god is left silently panicking

Until a certain Valkyrie makes her appearance

He knew of her well enough

Valkyrie’s were some of the few who treated him fairly since they respected him for his craft of weapons

She offers an opportunity for humanity to prove itself

Ragnarok

An event in which 13 humans and 13 gods would fight to the death

At first not many are intrigued until she does something to ensure they would accept the challenge

She called them chicken, scared to face the humans they had created

Once the meeting is over the god finds Brunhilde and her younger sister Göll

The youngest scared to a T whilst her older sister remains dead calm

It’s there that he tells her that he’s an ally

And that there is someone that she might wish to contact for a fighter

And so she takes his advice and finds you having tea in your home

when she asks you to fight for humanity against the gods you agree

And so Ragnarok begins

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

wow you really love disney metafiction

Well yes Who Framed Roger Rabbit always fascinated me as a kid, what adaptions would our world have what would change if our characters really existed and lived beside us would Disney be as greedy as it is if Mickey Mouse was actually owner over it it instead of Bob Iger being CEO nd Investors having their claws in it? Would Bugs be the owner of Warner or would he be chilling as an A-list celebrity who is a known as a beloved LGBTQA Drag Queen and Genderfluid Veteran?

Mickey and Minnie married off screen and dating on screen?

Looney Tunes known as chaos incarnate but they're a giant family

Bugs and Daffy adopted the Animaniacs because they had no home

Are Bugs and Daffy together off screen?

What would shape each toon into their On Screen and off-screen selves creating that divide?

What would the huge differences be? Maybe some have kids others are married and some have entire seperate family?

How would humans react to these guys as a species that has a bad record of looking down upon people?

Mickey and Bob Iger having a I absolutely despise you but I have to tolerate you relationship

Off screen the Warner siblings are actually related to Oswald and Ortensia explaining the Animaniacs' strange unidentifiable appearances,

Like the possibilities are endless and vast, there's just so much unexplored due to the fact companies can't share at all anymore and they don't think live action hybrids are useful

Chip and Dale 2022 resparked it for me, a lot of ideas going a million miles, like if I had finances I'd be getting reference shots to use for test fan animation just for the fun of it, cause it fascinates me that much,

And while you call it metafiction it's actually just cartoons meeting our reality seriously go check out the movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit that movie right there shows what exactly I'm talking about and here I'll even include some screenshots of a couple films that do this

Bugs Bunny Focus for Back in Action cuz honestly I think this is his most iconic look besides the Viking look when it comes to his drag and honestly the line normally I play the love interest is just amazing

Roger and Eddie(played by Bob Hoskins) in Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Chip and Dale Rescue Rangers 2022

This is the adaption I was talking about earlier look at Ellie next to the apartment building for small toons. She's as tall as it, while Chip and Dale are the perfect size for it, unlike Who Framed Roger rabbit Chip and Dale takes place in the modern day that's what hooked me to create a modern AU it's all so fascinating,

You can't see it in that shot but Dale is driving a full-blown human sized car that has been adapted for Chipmunks I'm not joking, however their movie shows how wildly different everybody can look from each other especially in the modern day when CG is a thing. Chip is still clearly 1990s 2D animated while Dale decided to get a CGI redesign

Like if Mickey and Minnie are only two feet tall and if he's the big boss on set yeah it's really funny to me to imagine him running around Disney and trying to picture every single Studio adapting to these Toons and their various size differences

Again there is just so so much that has been untapped with this genre, because Studios cannot get along long enough to tap into it

[astheworldgoesonitswickedway]

Count Olaf's best disguise?

Count Olaf had a large variety of disguises which came with varying degrees of success, as we all know. Which was the funniest, or the most unhinged, we could debate all day. But. I think there is a clear winner for which is the most effective, and it's not what you'd expect. Here's the lyrics to Smile! No One Cares How You Feel, by the Gothic Archies.

smile: no one cares how you feel be vicious, vain, and vile everything's yours to steal if you just smile have you no dignity? have you no sense of style? you'll never be pretty until you smile

smile: no one cares how you feel there's a world to be got you can make this world kneel if you'll just smile

ALWAYS THE BEST DISGUISE A LICENSE TO DEFILE everyone you despise will die so smile

Now, Count Olaf was vile before he ever put on an official disguise. But no one seemed to notice, did they. Even when the children clearly bore the marks of abuse. In a way, he was wearing a disguise the whole time. Everyone else was either genuinely blind to it, or willfully ignorant. It seemed he had the most success in the beginning, when he was closest to achieving his goal. When he didn't wear a costume at all. Arguably, fake kindness and a smile, were the real fuel behind each of his disguises anyway. We as the reader/viewer, see things objectively. We see the menace behind his "amiability" the manipulation behind his "compliments" and the threat behind his smile. But the characters don't. For the sake of metaphor, for the absurdist comedy, etc. But speaking in context, judging by the reaction of all these characters, Olaf appears to them as friendly and downright charismatic. And that is his best disguise, because time after time, people see his smile and let down their guard. For example, Dr. Mattathias Medicalschool would never have been able to exist if Babs hadn't fallen for that smile. While on the surface it may seem ridiculous amid all the comedy and exaggeration, the truth is that Olaf gets his way because he makes people WANT to do what he says. It is this power of manipulation that keeps his disguises intact and not the ridiculous boots and bald caps etc. And it's just so perfect how the song also represents Olaf's beliefs about himself and the world. "No one cares how he feels but he can still make the world kneel."

For the record though...Stephano is my favorite disguise.

[itsnotzka]

Fancy reading my original story? ;)

Without revealing too much, it's a very character-driven, slow-burn(ish), bitter-sweet romance story centered around self-discovery, with music and movies playing a significant role in the background :)

If you want to give it a go, you can read The Higher We Soar here (I'm currently sharing it on Wattpad, as I, unfortunately, haven't found a better alternative...). The first three chapters are already published (and it always will be free :))

You can also read the prologue below ⬇︎

You should never expect too much from Tuesdays. They're like the middle children of the week—less demanding than Mondays, less depressing than Wednesdays, but definitely not as fun as Fridays. Tuesdays quietly go about their business, neither imposing nor exhilarating.

As usual, I didn't have high hopes for that particular Tuesday either. It was one of those days that seemed to slip from memory almost as soon as it happened, no matter how much I wracked my brain to recall it.

The weather? If someone had told me there was the worst snowstorm of the century on that day, I would have readily accepted their claim without a single question. If I had read somewhere that it was the hottest day of the year, I would have simply nodded in agreement. I couldn't even tell you whether I decided to take a bus, a tram, or maybe I just, quite merrily, took a walk to the studio.

All those details somehow simply left my mind, overshadowed by one seemingly insignificant, and quite short encounter. Nothing remained the same after that fateful, yet somehow very ordinary, casual Tuesday morning.

Like a clueless fool, I failed to sense the impending, monumental shift in my life—a weird, terrifying, passionate avalanche that, in retrospect, seemed glaringly obvious and impossible to miss from the beginning, no matter how hard you might try... Yet, I did.

Before I delve further, you should know that I've never really liked interns.

It's not a sentiment I'm particularly proud of, as I despise prejudice in any form. My dislike isn't rooted in any of my antisocial tendencies; in fact, I generally find it quite easy to connect with people, especially in the music industry. 

But I never really liked interns.

Their enthusiasm often comes across as superficial, and I can't stand it when they ask what to do, only to neglect the tasks I give them. I don't don't like when they think they have it all, believing they are more knowledgeable than anyone else around the studio, despite never having composed a single piece of music in their lives. I don't like how, before I can even properly learn their names or discover their strengths, they vanish without a trace, leaving behind a mess of equipment they weren't supposed to touch in the first place.

I also don't like when interns assume I'm just one of them.

It's a frustrating realization, mainly because, begrudgingly, they have the right to do that. After all, most of them are just a tad younger than me. Who could blame them?

That seemed to be the case with most interns. Except for one notable exception.

It didn't take long for me to notice that one individual stood out from the rest of the pack. Slightly older than the typical interns we usually had, he possessed a remarkable ability to effortlessly connect with people of all ages and ranks—spanning from the youngest staff members to seasoned audio engineers and even the senior employees of our cleaning crew. He had this certain level of cheerfulness and genuine interest that set him apart, a stark contrast to the usual ennui seen among interns I knew.

Right. First things first, though.

The scene: Early spring. A typical Tuesday morning just a little past ten o'clock.

I found myself in the live room, brimming with anticipation to finally record the first version of my demo, or at least my initial idea for one. But as luck would have it, nothing seemed to align with my plans. True to form, the interns had left a chaotic mess in their wake, leaving me with the arduous task of tidying up before I could even begin to think about diving into my creative process.

I let out a sigh of frustration, futilely rummaging through the clutter in search of a balanced cable before all my inspiration gone to waste. And that's precisely when the blonde intern came into the room, flashing his straight, pearly white teeth at me.

"Oh, hey. Hand me that boom stand, eh?" I gestured towards the stand, hoping to deal the cleanup process faster.

Weirdly enough, he sauntered over to me joyfully, yet his hands were conspicuously empty. It took a few moments for the realization to dawn on me, and when I turned my head to him, there he was, meeting my gaze with a cheerful twinkle in his light brown eyes, smiling at me with the sincerity of a five-year-old child.

"Hello? The boom stand, please?" I reiterated, juggling a handful of cables, none of them the balanced one I desperately needed, and gesturing towards the frustratingly out-of-reach metal stand.

"Oh, you're talking about this thing!" he exclaimed, as if my words had just registered. With a sudden burst of energy, he hastily retrieved the boom stand and brought it over to me. "Here you go."

I shot him a skeptical look as he nonchalantly slipped his hands into the pockets of his well-worn cardigan—a piece of clothing that might have been deemed unwearable by most, yet it somehow suited him perfectly. In an oddly charming way, it emitted a subtle bohemian vibe, and I couldn't help but imagine it gracing the runway of some avant-garde fashion show, although my knowledge of fashion was rather limited.

"Do you want to tell me you didn't know what a boom stand is?" I dared to ask, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Yeah, sorry..." he prudishly feigned embarrassment, though it was evident that he didn't feel particularly bad about it. "I had no clue what you were talking about."

I eyed him inquisitively, suspecting the worst but needing confirmation. "What about a shock mount? Can you pass me that, then?"

He tilted his head and subtly pursed his lips, as if I had switched to an entirely different, foreign language he couldn't comprehend. Utterly astonished, I pointed to the nearby, star-shaped object, and his eyes widened in realization.

"Oh... that's a shock mount? Well, I had no idea about that, either," he admitted, seemingly unfazed by his lack of knowledge, with no intention of handing me the item. In response, I spread my hands and cast him a puzzled, inquisitive look, to which he simply responded with another chuckle.

"Let me be honest with you, okay?" he shrugged once more, entirely at ease. "I know nothing about making music or any of this equipment..."

"Are you shitting me?" I blurted out, dropping the cables from my hands in sheer disbelief. "In that case, I have no idea why you're even here. How on earth did you manage to land this internship in a scoring studio?"

The smirk never left his lips, his eyes twinkling with joy, as if he wasn't even aware that I considered firing him during his very first week on the job. Well, I couldn't actually fire him. I could ask someone else to do it for me.

"What can I say?" he offered another smile, his eyes mirroring the same cheerfulness. Even his bohemian gray cardigan seemed uncharacteristically cheerful as he spoke. "I aced the job interview. Sophie, that gal who interviewed me, seemed to really like me. She was very sure I'd be a great fit here!"

"That gal?" I repeated with a scoff... and a smile. "You mean Sophie, the producer? One of the most important people around here? If not the most important one?"

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The very same."

"Right. Sophie and her desire to change the whole world for the better..." I remarked, my tone laced with sarcasm that he simply chose to ignore.

There. My proof. 

That was the reason why I never really liked interns. He should have said something to make me believe he was taking it seriously, shouldn't he? He should have been embarrassed, he should have shown me his willingness to learn everything as quickly as possible, he should have tried to help me set everything up faster. But he didn't. Instead, he didn't take his eyes off me for a second, making me uncomfortable. It was as if looking at me like that was the most normal and ordinary thing in the world for him — as if it was our hundredth talk. No shyness. No awkwardness on his part. No guilt whatsoever.

"I don't know if I have time for your incompetence, then. I have things to do here, and they have to be done well," I finally stated, trying hard to maintain eye contact.

After all, I was supposed to be the more competent one, not him. Yet, inexplicably, I suddenly felt as though I were the intern, and he was the one showing me the ropes, not the other way around.

He hummed, faintly amused, as if I had cracked a half-hearted joke. "Come on... you only need to be more specific about what you want me to do. I can handle anything with clear instructions. I'm a very quick learner, you know?"

I found myself smiling as he began to lecture me on how to handle an intern like him. In fact, I burst into unexpected laughter—not at his expense, but because I couldn't believe his extraordinary gullibility.

No, gullibility was definitely not the right word. It was more like... certainty. An unwavering, absolute conviction that everything, always, would unfold just as he anticipated, with ease, enjoyment, and no difficulties whatsoever. There was no room for doubt. Moreover, it felt as if it wasn't because he wanted it to be that way, but because the universe, it seemed, had an uncanny knack for bending space and time just to make him smile.

"Let's see. Do you even know what I do here?" I asked, not with impatience anymore, but with genuine curiosity.

"Hey, I'm not that dense," he scoffed, then added a bit unsure, "You're a composer, right? Or am I mixing something up..."

I laughed and nodded in confirmation. His smile held a touch of embarrassment, a genuine one this time.

"You're not. I am a composer. So tell me one more thing, if you don't know anything about making music, why do you even want to work here?" I asked, finally bringing the shock mount closer and starting to set the microphone next to the piano.

He sighed, falling into deep thought for a brief moment before finally responding, "I think you're asking the wrong questions here. Why wouldn't I want to give it a try? It's fascinating. Besides, I'm a huge movie buff and you're making scores. I feel like I can rest my case here."

"Oh, yeah? Your love for movies? You think that's enough?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded, casually picking up the cables I dropped before, "Well, that would be more than enough if we were in an actual movie, wouldn't it?"

"Well, we're not, though," I chuckled, "We're not even in some poorly written novel. Life's quite different from the movies, especially if you know how they're made."

He hummed once more, a quiet laugh escaping his throat as he gave me another intrigued look.

"You think so? I think it all depends on your point of view..." he said with such conviction, as if everything really depended solely on that.

I shook my head in amusement and, unintentionally, found myself agreeing with him.

"Hey, I think I didn't catch your name before..." I said, a little troubled by the fact that despite Sophie repeating the names of all five interns for a week, I couldn't remember any of them.

"Oh, I'm Maddox. At your service!" he replied, his smile widening even further. "People usually call me Maddie, though."

"Really? Do they ever call you Madd?" I quipped. "Maybe that suits you better?"

A spark flickered in his eyes, then chuckled, "I've heard that one before... But sure. I can be Madd for you."

By then, I was laughing opelny, and I forgot about the mess around us.

It surprised me that he didn't ask for my name, and I decided not to give it away. I wasn't sure if he already knew it; he hadn't mentioned it even once that day. It seemed my name just... didn't matter to him back then. He struck me as someone very curious about the world and everything around him, yet for some reason, I didn't really seem to be one of those matters.

Like many things, it didn't bother me much, though.

After that Tuesday morning, marked by a string of mishaps that he effortlessly remedied with a perfect blend of enthusiasm, interest, and clever comments, a tad too clever for just an intern, we didn't teally talk for a few weeks.

Throughout the initial month of his three-month internship, our encounters were fleeting, lacking any real depth or substanc. Yet, I knew, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of each other's presence that hung in the air, like a perfectly fitting soundtrack playing in the background—barely noticeable, yet undeniably there.

I was busy with my projects that weren't going as well as I wanted them to. He, on the other hand, was busy surpassing almost all expectations, learning things at an astonishing pace, and effortlessly charming everyone he encountered. At least that's what I had heard from my co-workers, and from Sophie. He worked mainly under her, after all.

Every now and then though, I'd catch a glimpse of his eyes, squarely directed at me, particularly when I was on my way to the break room in search of my caffeine salvation. Sometimes, amidst the chaos of the studio, I'd hear his laughter, his rather melodic voice rising above the cacophony of others, as I struggled to maintain my focus on the stubborn music sheets in front of me. I quickly noticed he was quite the conversationalist, engaging in lively discussions with anyone willing to participate. Yet, our interactions rarely extended beyond a simple exchange of greetings, such as a casual 'hello' or 'how are you?'

That didn't bother me, either. Well, it didn't bother me at the beginning.

Everything always seems different at the beginning, doesn't it?

[angstflavoured]

oh but please do?? please please yap a little more... it's so nice to see some people who actually _watch_ and _read_ the Thing attentively and then interpret it the way it Actually Is without making stuff up on the go??

also: I especially trust your judgements because, as I told my partner when I sent them your fiddleauthor essay - if the person admits they Love the Thing and then begins tossing dirty laundry here and there about it, they _really_ know what they're talking about

so please go on. don't stop, for the love of god

EHEHEHE I REALLY APPRECIATE IT, THANK YOU FOR LISTENING TO MY RAMBLES!! for real, the way I talk about shows and characters I like sometimes, you'd think I despise them more than anything, but I swear that all the hate mail is made special with love <3 and I'm very glad it comes across as me being knowledgeable and not making stuff up for convenience, because at the end of the day, its most important to me that everything I do is as in character as I can get it. I love doing thought projects for fandoms, but this is the first time I'm really putting everything down on paper because I'm in a fandom with more than 5 people and know there's actually someone listening HAHA which is very nice for a change.

My Billford essay will probably be a good while out because I'm going to write an official script and record it and everything for a youtube video, but I promise I have so many more pages of info to write about many things..... so I will not be shutting up any time soon

[lyndaris]

OC rambles:

Thinking about what Ophelia/Alec would be like as a companion in ESO.

About/Meet the Character:

“Alec, former agent of the Dominion. Supposedly a trusted Eye of the Queen as well, but that is just one of many rumors of that Mer…

Her appearance is unmistakable, being so short for a dunmer and the jagged scar that crosses her left cheek to the bridge of her nose. Those golden yellow eyes as sharp as her daggers… not to mention her gothic style of armor and that war paint. Does she ever wear any color?

Never mind, that’s not important. Anyways, she has said she’s an Ashlander of Vvardenfell but the natives claim to not know anything or refuse to speak to any outsiders in general. Some revere her, they call her a hero of the Ashlands. Most dark elves of the Houses despise her, even uttering her name will get you kicked out of a building. Or a city. Especially around the Tribunal temples.

There is little known about her, most is speculation or rumors. Some even dramatic as calling her a secret demiprince to the Prince Boethiah..! What we do know is she’s not an approachable person. Do not engage with her, don’t even look at her wrong or she might just slit your throat. I heard she’s been wanted for a number of crimes, mass murder. Arson. Defiling Shrines and Temples…

…potential criminal records aside. She is mostly known for being an antisocial mercenary these days. Who is very picky about the jobs she accepts so. Have fun and don’t turn your back on her. Might be your last mistake..!”

Character quest line:

Alec needs help in making peace with her past, which involves seeking out knowledge of the Good Daedra. Specifically, Boethiah. The Prince her parents worshiped. As well as shutting down the rumor of being a demiprince.

As she travels around and grows close with a companion, they have to visit places in Vvardenfell to learn and understand the Good Daedra and their followers.

Finally facing the Prince of Plots to shut down the famous rumor and she can also confront the Prince as she blames them for the loss of her parents. A bittersweet ending where Alec has lived up to the Prince of Plots teachings, a living legacy of her parents, learning they are at peace and reside in the Prince’s realm after their glorious deaths in battle.

Racial Skill: Decreases ability cooldown 3% and increases damage done by 3%.

Companion Perk: Alec’s Sight - See through the shadows and expose an invisible enemy so they can’t hide/escape. Enemies exposed cannot go invisible again for 10 seconds.

Default gear: medium armor and daggers,

Style: Ancient Daedric

Default mount: Midnight Steed, named “Shadow”

Rapport Status:

Positives

Cordial: Alec tolerates you.

Friendly: Alec thinks you’re a competent companion.

Close: Alec is glad you two met.

Allied: Alec would rather travel with you than alone.

Companion: Alec trusts you, one of few she can count on.

Negatives:

Wary: Alec is unsure about you.

Irritated: Alec wonders why she still bothers working with you.

Disdain: Alec wishes she never met you.

Negative rapport:

-25, taking her near the Tribunal or their Temples:

• “Really? You take an ashlander near a false god/Tribunal temple?”

• “next time, leave me out of Tribunal business.“

• “I question your decision to speak with that false god…”

• “I will defile their shrine/altar, I hope you know that.”

-5 - 10, intimidating merchants to pay gold / stealing kid’s toys / wearing Ordinator/Hand of Almalexia costumes:

• “why don’t you get your gold from a bandit, or a cultist instead?”

• “Merchants are making a living too, y’know.”

• “do you feel real tough? Threatening a civilian for a few gold?”

- “how heartless are you to steal from children?”

- “so you’re that kind of thief, huh?”

- “there are better things to steal…”

+ “I should kill you for wearing that around me.”

+ “this some kind of sick joke to you?”

+ “you are aware my people get killed by those House/Tribunal dogs, right?”

-1, getting a bounty/paying a guard, traveling to Coldharbour:

• “this is what happens when you get caught.”

• “you might as well have announced that you’re committing a crime.”

• “next time, watch for guards/witnesses.”

“Ugh, why are we here?”

“I hated it the first time I was here...”

“I should just leave you alone here.”

Positive Rapport:

+25 - 125, going near shrines to the Good Daedra, speaking to Azura & Mephala:

• “I may not pray to the Good Daedra, but I always pay my respects at their shrines.”

• “Do not believe all Daedra are evil, some view them as teachers. Like myself.”

• “Give me a moment, yeah? I want to think of my family while we’re here.”

- “Lady Azura, and all her beautiful glory actually spoke to us. May the Mother of the Rose guide us.”

- “My mother loved Lady Azura, as much as she prayed to Lord Boethiah…”

- “The Lady of Twilight among us…Do you feel overwhelmed? No? Just me? Huh.”

+ “Lady Mephala… bless us with shadows.”

+ “Do you feel like murdering someone in her name? Maybe we could gain her favor…”

+ “Did you mention me to her? Give a good word? Please tell me you didn’t embarrass us-“

+5 - 10, crafting dunmeri/ashlander foods & drinks, visiting Vvardenfell tribe camps, completing Ashlander dailies:

- “reminds me of what my mother used to make…”

- “we going to eat/drink that… or?”

- “if you need someone to sample that, I’m more than willing to.. give feedback.”

• “would you mind if we stay a few minutes? I just… want to imagine what it’s like having a tribe again.”

• “I wish I still had my tribe… exiled or not, they were my family.”

• “being a Clanfriend is bittersweet, getting to visit the tribes camps but never having my own to return to.”

+ “I appreciate you helping my people. Truly.”

+ “Even if it doesn’t mean something to you, it means something to me that you’re helping these Ashlanders. Thank you.”

+ “You’re proving to be a good Clanfriend. Maybe we can make a difference here together.”

Greetings:

Cordial, Friendly- “hm?” “Yeah?” “What do you need?”

Close, Allied, Companion- “Problem, Sera?” “Change of plans?” “You have my attention.” “Feeling chatty?”

Wary, Disdain- “what?” “Yes, s’wit?” “What now?” “Unless it’s getting us paid, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Tell me something about yourself.”:

• “Vvardenfell is my homeland, no matter how many locals claim me to be an outsider… I still visit the tribes camps when I can.”

• “Daggers are my preferred choice of weapons, but I have spent time learning to wield other weapons too. Expand my knowledge and skills, train myself to be better.”

• “I lost my parents to Tribunal fanatics, and when I demanded justice I got turned away. Those false gods only care about themselves, their false godhood. I want nothing to do with them or their people.”

• “I pray to no divine or Daedric Prince. I have no connections to anyone, anywhere. I prefer to stay neutral, I hate picking sides.”

• “Murder, assassination, deceit, lies… all a part of me. What my parents and mentor taught me. I don’t care if you decide to stick a dagger into someone because you feel like it. Just don’t get caught.”

• “I admit, I proudly worked for Queen Ayrenn and her Dominion… when I was exiled from Vvardenfell and ended up in Auridon, Her Grace took a gamble with me. She didn’t have to trust an outlander, but she did. I owed her a debt.”

• “I don’t like alcoholic beverages, feeling drunk has never been a good experience for me. Feeling out of control… if you need a drinking buddy, ask someone else.”

• “Not that I assume you have heard the nonsense, but in case you have… No, I am not a demiprince. I am mortal, just like you. The tale spoken of me is greatly exaggerated and false.”

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #90

I'm not really sure what to write to you about today. I think I might have overextended myself in recent days, and once more I'm finding that my brain feels like soup. The sense of not really belonging in this place is hitting me kinda hard today, I guess. Suppose you would know a lot about what that's like.

Truth is, I struggle often enough with the way I perceive the world around me. I do it weirdly (much like how I do literally everything else... sigh...). I'm not gonna bother to articulate how, though; I doubt you'd be interested anyway. Fact remains that there ain't a whole lot of folks I can talk to about it; even if I could, most wouldn't understand, so why bother. Suppose it is what it is though; no sense in bellyaching. I just wish that it was a thing that could be measured, recorded, corroborated. Something that could be rationalized, explained, made logical. My mind tends to despise uncertainties; it likes everything to be concretized and nailed down.

…Ah well.

Like yesterday, today was busy, and also painful, thanks to Physical Therapy. There's weird stuff going on with the right side of my jaw, and the muscles holding it together needed to be mashed up with metal implements. I guess I'm gonna need braces sooner rather than later, because I really needed braces as a kid, but I didn't get 'em, and now my bite is all messed up, which means now my jaw is all messed up, and having the jaw messed up pulls on the neck, which then pulls on the ribs, and my ribs being weird is why I've been dealing with limited ability to use my right arm for the last almost two years to begin with, but I hesitate to get it fixed because braces cost a LOT of money, and I think most insurances won't cover the cost of it this late in life, so… it's a mess.

My whole existence is kind of a mess in a variety of respects, and… ya know. Sometimes I'm not sure why I bother persisting when all of it seems kind of like a farce; I live in a defective body on a dying planet where everyone is so traumatized that lots of 'em believe that killing each other is the answer to all their problems. Sometimes I just... don't wanna. Waking up in the morning in a world where there is no ethical way to maintain the integrity of my physical vessel seems like a chore.

…But then I remember that there are people who like having me around, even if I can't understand why most of the time. So I gotta believe that something good might come of my derping around on this mossy wet rock hurtling through space, even if I don't yet know what it is.

You ever get the feeling like there's something you're supposed to be doing, but you have no idea what it is, and you're running out of time? Feels like that almost constantly for me. If you know what that's like and know how to deal with it, lemme know, willya? I could use some pointers.

In the meantime… there's some stuff I've been meaning to learn how to do. I'm not gonna tell you what it is just yet, because it would ruin the surprise. But I hope the results will be good, if I can stop being intimidated long enough to get the gumption.

Anyway… Sephiroth. My brain continues to be soup. I think if I keep going, I'm just gonna keep rambling. I'm tired, but… I wanted to write anyway, because you're worth others' effort, even when they're feeling weird. But it's time to stop for today, because I'm having trouble staying on topic and stringing cohesive ideas together.

Please stay safe out there, okay? I don't wanna endure your absence, just like the folks who love me don't wanna endure mine. So let's both keep trying our best to keep our chins up and our eyes on the horizon, okay?

I'll leave you with this today:

I know you're not a little girl, so maybe you can think "little one" instead. Please take the overall message to heart. Please do your best to remain kind and gentle, no matter what tries to come along and break you.

I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

Okay this is the anticipated rant you’ve all been waiting for cause I’m just over it really, yes I’d like to see how this shit ends but am I going to entertain it more? Yes and no. I’m sorry but my favorite characters (LO’s most wanted) are still in the comic and at this point I feel like they’re being held hostage and I want them freed immediately they don’t deserve to be locked up in this social experiment that is the relationship of Persephone and Hades.

The biggest hugest gripe I have with this whole thing is that.. I just don’t get the point of anything leading up to this. What was the point in the whole “Hwades!!! I want indepwendence, I want mwy own life and I want a nwormal relationship!!” speech that Persephone gave us after the Kronos battle? What was the point of after days of Persephone continually trying to remind Hades of her boundaries every single day while being constantly ignored and put on the back burner just so Hades can continue implanting all of his wishes and dreams onto her without even discussing any of it. There was no point in trying to develop that plot line if there wasn’t going to be a plot anyways, it was just incredibly annoying.

This just raises another thing I absolutely despise about their relationship, and I feel like I’m a broken record because I keep saying the same thing over and over again but their relationship is so incredibly stupid. Like I feel like Rachel is just adding “romantic” things in the comic while ignoring the actual context. Persephone has just been crowned Queen of the Underworld which should’ve been a much bigger deal to everyone involved because we don’t know if she’s capable and we don’t even know if she wanted to be queen. Before this she was just the goddess everyone knew and now she’s queen of a whole realm, she’s not a dumb village girl and she has the power to control things now. This should’ve been a much bigger point in the story, why even introduce the fact that she’s queen now when obviously it seems like she doesn’t even care about the title. Why is her first thought getting an apartment? Why is she more worried about shopping than her literal royal duty?? Why is she more concerned with sex rather than being the ruler of the Underworld? That’s like if you fought this intense battle and won just to be made president of the country all in one day, you’re going to feel some changes and there’s gonna be pressure but we don’t even get that from Persephone because she’s too worried about the little things with Hades that they’ve already been doing.

This brings me to my next point, the whole romance thing is so incredibly lackluster and underwhelming and you wanna know why? Because there’s absolutely zero stakes and tension between them. Oh wow, Hades and Persephone got engaged? That’s totally not surprising at all and I’m completely shocked. With the way they treat each other it feels like they were engaged since they’re first meeting. Ever since the start they were familiar with each other despite being total strangers and meeting under disturbing circumstances, they had obvious feelings for each other and displayed it for everyone to see with help from other characters moving them towards each other for that sole reason, when they became “friends” they were still very flirty and physical and having the comfortability that you would have with your partner of 8 years. You see what I’m getting at? In no point in time was there ever a question if their relationship was ever going to develop or become anything more than flirting and fluff and that’s just so incredibly boring to me. Especially with their dynamic, they both can do no wrong in each other’s eyes and they will continue to place the other on a pedestal. Their relationship is highly disturbing and I hate how it’s marked as healthy, just because you’ve never mistreated your partner physically doesn’t mean that your relationship is healthy. This is a prime example of unhealthy and obsessive relationships.

Another thing I absolutely hate about all of this is how absolutely fucking hypocritical all of this shit is especially with Hades being involved. That was the biggest mistake of the century, why the hell would Hades be defending Persephone from Demeter’s emotional abuse when he does the same exact shit? It’s fucking ridiculous. If this was realistic he’d most likely side with her mainly because he doesn’t see anything wrong about stuff like this cause he does it all the time. This is like an abusive parent trying to argue with another abusive parent about how abusing kids is wrong while continuing to be an abusive piece of shit, you see how the shit doesn’t work? I’d rather see Hestia or even Artemis defend Persephone since let’s be real this whole situation is essentially about them and their group so why would Hades even be there to begin with. The way that Demeter being emotionally abusive towards Persephone is disgusting and terrible (which is completely understandable) but all the times Hades personally humiliated and created such a hostile environment for Thanatos that he literally SHAKES and STUTTERS when he’s in the presence of Hades especially when he’s mad is excused is absolutely horrendous. Honestly with how out of the blue this whole thing is I feel like this is only the first instance of this stuff happening while with Thanatos we’re shown dozens on dozens of chapters where he gets severely mistreated emotionally by Hades and it’s basically a daily thing for him. You have no room to say Demeter is a terrible parent and not bring Hades down with her because there should be no excuse of why Thanatos is absolutely terrified of Hades and how Hades knowing this fact uses it to continuously intimidate and degrade him.

The double standards of this whole thing is incredibly telling as well. Hera literally pressured Persephone into having an extravagant coronation even when Persephone obviously wanted to have a small get together and yet she got pushed down and ignored by Hera and she acted like Persephone was being ridiculous because of her response. I don’t understand why everyone is okay with Hera putting Persephone’s ideas down and not actually respecting her voice or even her title as queen of the Underworld yet when Demeter does the same thing she’s in the wrong for it. I’m not understanding why we aren’t calling out Hera for it as well since they did the exact same thing just framed in different scenes. This is just more reason for me to believe that Rachel really just doesn’t like Demeter and that there’s no actual reason why Persephone and Demeter have a bad relationship because when it comes down to it no one treats her good at all not even Hades. Everyone is a manipulative parent to her and no one gives her the respect that she deserves yet the comic truly wants us to believe that everything is completely fine when the main cast mistreats her yet when it’s Demeter it’s a capital offense.

All I’m saying with this rant is I’m tired of people putting down Demeter for her actions towards Persephone yet instantaneously supporting similar actions made by other characters. It feels like it’s just Lore Olympus vs Demeter at this point because of how extremely immature and underwhelming this whole thing is. Everyone walks all over Persephone and they force her to do things she doesn’t want to, it’s a theme and common scene in this comic I’m tired of everyone acting like only Demeter has ever done it and if I’m being honest with you before this chapter came out Demeter really was the only person who treated Persephone like she was competent, she never babied her or made her feel less than and she valued her well being and happiness. Everyone in her “support” group including Hades denies her access to her full potential by doing and handling everything for her and they obviously don’t think she’s capable of pretty much anything, the way they treat her is really pathetic and it really makes it seem like Persephone has no dignity especially with her peers. Very hard to watch.

[pokenoire]

What are some of your favorite episodes from the Pokémon series? Like from OS, JN, XY, etc.

Also do you play any of the Pokemon games? Or have? Or do you just watch the anime? : )

I was going to post it yesterday but I got very sleepy and the text was getting huge.

Well, let's take it one step at a time. My favorite XY is definitely 053 A Race for a Home. This episode has enormous importance for my emotional and personal life, it changed absolutely everything about me at the time of XY, Serena was already a favorite but this episode only consolidated my Kinnie even more.

OS - I can't really decide on favorites but I would definitely say the original Kanto trio, This saga was part of my childhood, so much so that's why I SIMPLY DEFEND IT WITH TOOTH AND NAILS. Wow it's just surreal how I can watch the original Kanto trio as many times as I can and still love them every time I rewatch each one. How much I admire the characters of Kanto-Jotho and Shudo's writing is some of the best in the show, I always say this but personally no one has written Pokemon like Shudo with such depth and such a world which I engaged so much, Of course it has its general flaws... but the world of Pokémon and humans was so palpable, so real, you could find ordinary people doing absurd things and still be the character of the day. They could be the vigilantes and help someone at the end of the day but not everyone had redemption or a reason behind it. I praise Shudo a lot for his writing 🥰

That said, if there wasn't Lucario movie 08, due to its themes, M01 would definitely take that podium.

We're not talking about the movies but I watched and repeated M03 on my old laptop like crazy on loop

Gotcha cath ya later definitely made me cry and still does for the farewell of the original trio, seeing them again in Alola and Mezase Pokemon Master was spectacular 🧡💚❤️ I MISSED THESE THREE TOGETHER SO MUCH

I Choose You marked my childhood a lot. I recorded and told all the references to this episode in Journeys while watching Journeys. It's simply special.

I can hear Rica San and Fábio Lucindo voice's when Ash saves Pikachu and Pikachu responds to this

Goodbye Pikachu THIS ONE MAKES ME TEARS TO THIS DAY, even though I know he's coming back, it still hits me SO DEEP.

I DESPISE THE MOVIE 20 sorry but even Masuda agreed (this movie totally disrespects my childhood)

LOL I SPENT A WHOLE THREAD PRAISING KANTO

I like the construction of Jotho I found out that people hate/don't likeJotho I was shocked 🤡💀

Well I like Charizard and Bayleaff despite the obvious jealousy towards Pikachu it never irritated me...One of the most important things about Jotho is that Ash trains his Pokemon in an unconventional way for the first time.

I have a whole blog about why Scraggy is my favorite BW Pokémon and this is one of my favorite ones:

https://www.tumblr.com/pokenoire/767063768884707328/i-will-never-understand-the-comparisons-between?source=share

Now we start with the peak: Diamond and Pearl

This saga is so complete, it has almost no flaws, it has exactly everything that I also love, the characters are captivating, the plot knew where it was working, and despite Torterra's arcs it will be my favorite starter despite people clearly having a fondness for infernape, i should really make a thread about how they had to be a dynamic duo

All Pokemon are captivating, they all have their screen space, they have their training spread throughout the complex plot that serves them.

Ash and Dawn have a group and duo dynamic that simply makes it clear how they are each other's co-progenitors.

TEARS OF CHINCHAR is another episode that brings rivers of tears

IRIS IS THE BEST OF BW AND HER HATERS CAN EXPLODE, I'm not a fan of Cillan unlike most, I don't hate him I just don't find him very interesting and neither do the episodes focused on him)

Hoeen - I have the same problem with OS, I can't decide on just one favorite episode, I love every part and character of this show with all my heart. However, I can say that it took me a month to rewatch Togetic's farewell. This broke my heart again, I like the conversation Max has with Misty in the battle frontier about siblings...I have nothing against Max, he's not bad as a character and people exaggerate because he's a kid. I like Torkal, no matter who says bad things about him, I think Pokemon with personality is wonderful.

Idk about SM I definitely get the whole Nebby arc, it's the first time I've JUST BEEN shocked by the deep relationship between Pokemon and legendary trainer after movie one and the special that absolutely no one saw it [this is hyperbole] (i was confused when people didn't know mewtho returns).

Anyway, I'll try to talk less lol, Journeys I love all the Goh episodes, I even rewatched some of the episodes I hate the most (Arceus and Sinnoh specials) just to remember Chloé/Koharu's development, I care about all the characters and don't want to go too far against their characterization in their specific series. Who knows when I'll need to defend Chloé lmao.

--

Answering your question yes I played emulated Pokemon on my PC in 2010, my cousin in particular is a genrwunner i'm not kidding lol so i made sure to learn how to play

Even though I love Kanto games I prefer GBC (Game by color) to Fire Red and Leaf Green

Even though I love generation 3 in the anime I HATE RSE GAMES SORRY HOEEN FANS.

Well my favorite region is Sinnoh in games, and my favorite games are BW and BW2

I finished the GSC - GBC but never did the HGSS Battle Frontier, only the Emerald one, ironically enough.

✨ One of my favorite things is that Pokemon Yellow was released in English in 1999, my birth year.

I have a game of Inazuma Eleven o 1 European It's funny how I got an NDS game of Ina11 before I got a Pokemon game

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

A Day in a Life

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial with the prompt #FFF279 warm hands, thank you so much, this an alternate universe with sprinkled “Crows of Remembrance” spoilers (but not really). If you are reading this, please tread carefully like always. (For @ynxnyx this is not quite what you asked before but I am still on it.)

—

Fandom: Yatagarasu: The Raven Does Not Choose Its Master

Characters: Yukiya (Kitayama), an original character, mention of the Great Tengu

Words: 991

—

Summer, the 59th year of the Shōwa Era, Northern Territory, Yamauchi

It was already dusk when Yukiya, 10 years old, woke up.

Did he miss a full day? Was it all a dream when he met a beautiful boy in the woods after he and Yukichi got lost? Or was it a large raven, the largest he had ever seen? The strange boy’s hands were cold, but Yukiya felt the warm protective current surged through his body as soon as those fingers touched his face telling him everything would be all right. It was odd, as if this boy knew who he was. Yukiya did not know him, that was for sure, and yet he knew in his heart that this boy was kind, gentle, and he felt safe around him.

The moment Yukiya asked him to save them, the fear was gone. He did not know what happened next.

In the coming days, the memories of the boy, the large raven, and the strange meeting vanished from his mind.

2005, the Outside World

Music blasted from the loudspeakers. Bottles of European wine strewn on the table and on the carpet. The apartment, an extravagant loft in the middle of Tokyo, was more than modest that could accommodate a family of three. Instead, its owner, a certain Taigen Itoh, a 47-year-old bachelor and a supervisor from an international company lived there alone. He was celebrating the recruitment of Yukiya Kitayama in his department. Taken by his new younger colleague’s charisma, Taigen thought Yukiya’s strategy on management and leadership was impressive. He watched him intently for days now that when he had the opportunity to invite him at his home, he leaped in happiness after Yukiya said yes.

“It is not a big deal,” Yukiya assured him.

Recalling the Great Tengu’s advice that networking with the human beings was important, Yukiya dragged his feet to the loft.

The everyday after-work hours were unnerving, most of all they drained Yukiya’s heart. This charade was something he despised in Yamauchi where he had the habit of presenting the nobility a smile that did not even reach his eyes.

But in order to make the mission a success, it was detrimental that he had to endure for the sake of Yamauchi’s survival.

Learning the language was not particularly difficult. He found himself capable of interacting with the humans. It was not always easy, but he was coping. The hardest part was the moments when he missed his master, his friends, his mother, and brothers, even his hometown. There was no love lost between him and Yukimasa after the latter realised the deceptive act he played for many years. There was embarrassment there, a hint of betrayal too.

I don’t care what he thinks anymore.

Taigen loved to play music on his beautiful sound system. He showed Yukiya his collection. He was particularly proud of his Bruce Springsteen records that he bought.

“I saw him in ’97. He wowed the audience when he performed here for four days.”

“And you saw him in all those days?” Yukiya crossed his legs and spread his arms on the black leather couch making himself more comfortable.

Taigen giggled, feeling awkward. The blush on his cheeks highlighted the two dimples that appeared. It was charming.

“Y-yeshhh…”

The music was not at all bad. Not his type, but Yukiya found kinship surprisingly to one song after his colleague noticed that he could not stop listening to it.

It is alright… it is alright…it is alright, yeah. *

A warm hand snaked its way to his neck, then softly touched his face. The first instinct was to swat it away and leave the room, but Yukiya did not do any of those things. Instead, he found himself succumbing to it.

How lonely he must have felt.

“I am sorry.” Taigen got up, glanced at Yukiya whilst slowly gauging his reaction. He put another record after the last song played on “The Rising.”

You sit there in your heartache / Waiting on some beautiful boy to / To save you from your old ways / You play forgiveness / Watch it now, here he comes… **

When his supervisor sat next to Yukiya again, he found himself opening. This was not something he did not have any idea about. He was not a young child anymore. He knew where this would lead.

A pair of lips touched his own, but he did not recoil nor kiss back.

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus / But he talks like a gentleman / Like you imagined when you were young… **

When he decided to place his hand on Taigen’s shoulder, the latter looked him in the eye.

“Jeez, Yukiya, I think I’ll pass out.”

Just like that, his host began to snore. Yukiya was not even tipsy. You could not even be called a Northerner in Yamauchi, a region famous for its sake and warriors, if you were not able to hold your liquor.

Taigen’s flat was not so far away from where he was staying that he opted to walk to clear his head. Besides, the metro’s last trip was an hour ago. He was not in the mood to call a taxi.

The music stopped playing but the lyrics stayed on his head.

And sometimes you close your eyes And see the place where you used to live / When you were young…**

As soon as he got up, his boss occupied now the couch sleeping like a foetus. He searched for the off button and pressed it down, switched off the remaining lights and then closed the door behind him.

Half a kilometre more until he reached his apartment. The scarce lamp posts illuminated his pathway.

It began to drizzle. The gentle drops of rain caressed his cheeks, cold, refreshing in summer nights.

It is all right. Tomorrow is another day.

~ fin ~

—

* Lyrics taken from “Lonesome Day” by Bruce Springsteen

** Texts taken from The Killers’ song, “When You Were Young”

These songs appeared on the year or earlier when Yukiya went to the Outside World, i.e in Tokyo, Japan.

[chameleonspell]

HTDC commentary - 21: refinement & 22: fragile

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

chapter text: 21: refinement & 22: fragile

In which Iriel interacts with two Khajiiti women, who are both filled with skooma, but for very different reasons.

“Hold the fucking retort steady, you’re going to destabilise the solution!”

People tell me this section reminds them of Breaking Bad. For the record, I have never watched Breaking Bad. This chapter is based purely on my experience of school chemistry lessons, and people being total dicks to each other.

Iriel grabbed the vessel out of Tsiya’s unsafe claws.

The unsafest of all possible unsafe hands. When I called chapter 15 "claws", the scary-sounding title was undercut by all the physical claws Iriel encounters in the chapter offering sympathy and kindness. Having safe or unsafe hands is not about whether or not you have literal blades attached to them! Tsiya's claws are not what makes her unsafe, but she does also very much have deadly knife-hands.

“Tsiya doesn’t know what she’s fucking talking about!”

Iriel is fun to write when he's completely run out of fucks to give. When he's stopped trying to sheathe his own claws, for other people's benefit.

Still, no matter how many insults they hurled at each other during the day, they always had the drug to bond over every night before they passed out. 

We're about a week and a half on from when Ire got expelled, during which time he has embraced (OK, re-embraced) a life of drugs and crime. I made a timeline, later, and this part fell in mid-Frostfall, meaning Iriel has his 24th birthday about now, not that he registers it. Every night is skooma party night, at Tsiya's.

“Tsiya supposes that Iriel will go over to South Wall again this evening.”

At least Iriel is managing some kind of social life, now? Hanging out with the Balmora thieves, now he's got less to lose by risking it.

“It’s your own fault they don’t speak to you. And no, I won’t talk to Habasi again. It won’t work, and mentioning your name makes her tail start thrashing.”

Whatever Tsiya did to the Guild, it's still unforgivable, even by thief standards. Asking Iriel to talk to Habasi must have cost Tsiya her last shred of pride, and it didn't even make anything better. She's worse off, in fact, because now Iriel's seen her abject herself, he knows how much she's despised by someone who used to care for her. So don't be too hard on Tsiya. Remember Rat Park? She's been trapped, alone, in the bare metal cage with the drugs, for a very long time.

Iriel is perfectly happy to be hard on Tsiya. He ought to have more sympathy, given his history, but of course, it's the opposite. He almost seems to be enjoying the freedom of having someone he's allowed to be mean to, because she so clearly deserves it. After all, she's just like him! It's a nasty habit, to always be looking for people you're allowed to be mean to. And doing it out of reflected self hatred doesn't make it any better for the people you're doing it to. But this one of Iriel's worse traits: he likes to have a valid target. He gets it from his mother.

On to the Bitter Coast.

A Dwemer tube. Of course it would be a fucking Dwemer tube.

This is Habasi's third quest, but the first two are basic thefts within Balmora, and simple enough for Ire, so we skip over them. And yes, the timing of this particular theft was ironic, given his previous Mages' Guild quest. Turns out, Dwemer tubes pop up all over!

he slid the stolen artifact out of his shirtsleeve

On reflection, this raises difficult questions about where Iriel concealed the Dwemer bowl and goblet on his toast-rack of a person, but let's just move on.

“Useless s'wit! How am I supposed to get the blighted slave to Balmora then?

This is one of the most horrific and sad quests in Morrowind. Even if you complete it by saving Rabinna, the picture it paints of how slaves are treated by the Dunmer is unflinchingly bleak. This game pulls no punches in its portrayal of slavery, and it shouldn't.

The Khajiiti slave was tiny and poorly clothed, [...] and her fur felt thin and greasy over her bony ribs. She never complained - indeed, she spoke only to confirm her name: Rabinna.

Unless you can get her disposition to 50, Rabinna will be too frightened to ask you to help her, too scared even to talk to you at all. Iriel's principle reaction to this? Relief he doesn't have to try and make small talk. For fuck's sake, Ire.

Perhaps you should try to, you know, free her or something?

Is it worse, that it does occur to him that he ought to do something, but immediately talks himself out of it? Yes, yes it is.

These apathetic, self-absorbed thoughts came to haunt Iriel for a long time afterwards.

As well they should, because he's being a complete shit.

Vorar Helas lived east of the river, so they had to cross a bridge. Hearing her stumble, Ire turned just in time to catch Rabinna as she almost fell into the water. Touching her, he found she was trembling uncontrollably. “It’s all right,” he said, in what he hoped were encouraging tones. “We’re almost there.” She stared at him in wordless desperation and terror, but followed him to the other side.

I really did take every opportunity to make this worse, and I still didn't do justice to how fucking awful it is. In other circumstances, it might be funny that even when Iriel's trying to "be nice", he's only traumatising her further, but nothing about this is funny.

Ire hunched near the door, hands in his pockets. “I was told you’d pay me in moon sugar,” he said. “Ten units.” ugh this place smells like something fucking died in here, i hope sottilde’s on bar tonight she’s not going to believe the shit i have to put up with…

Ironically, it might be Iriel's authentic air of callous indifference that saves Rabinna, since that's what lets Helas assume it's fine to go ahead and stab her right in front of him.

While we're here, what the fuck is a "unit"? Clearly, I should have thought of something less obviously "I am stacking these items in my Videogame Inventory". But even now, I cannot remember what weights and measures are canon in Morrowind. @sunderlorn would know - actually, @sunderlorn would have headcanoned multiple competing systems of measurement, depending on whether the trader was Imperialised, an Ashlander, an alchemist, a Camonna Tong smuggler, etc etc. Alas, I am not @sunderlorn, and we get this sort of abject hackery. "Units". Fuck's sakes.

Pure horror flooded into him, but then the adrenaline hit. He hurled a Paralyze spell at Helas, who, taken by surprise, had no chance to resist. By the time it wore off, Iriel had cast enough frost spells to drop him lifeless to the floor. Next to Rabinna.

So, when I played it, I went into the climax of this quest completely terrified. Because I knew what would happen, but I was determined to follow Iriel's current point of view, and he hadn't got a word out of Rabinna, didn't see a strong enough reason not to deliver her to Helas. I knew he'd react to him stabbing her, but I had no idea if she'd live. She couldn't have much HP, what if she died in one hit? While I generally have a narrative plan, and often feel free to ignore gameplay and make things up, when it comes to critical life-or-death moments, I like to let the game decide. If she died, she died: that would be the story, and I'd just have to clear up the mess that would leave in Ire's psyche.

She made a faint gasp, and Ire dropped to his knees. In blind panic, he began casting healing spells, anything his meagre skill in Restoration could drag from his fingers.

IT WAS REAL CLOSE.

Only one in five succeeded, but he kept going anyway, forcing vitality into her frail body in weak, irregular jolts. Wrenching her soul back from the brink, inch by agonising inch, as she whimpered and twitched. He knew he did it far more for himself than for her, and it felt almost as violent an act as the stabbing she had already suffered.

In First Aid, I learned that CPR is messy, violent, exhausting, breaks people's ribs, causes organ damage, and barely ever works to actually save anyone's life. We still do it, because the 5% of people it does save make it all worth it. But it's an unpleasant business.

“Khenarthi… Khenarthi…” He leaned to catch her whispered words, cradling her head in his lap. “Rabinna… feels your holy breath, Khenarthi. Lift her… lift Rabinna, and fly her to the Sands Behind the Stars…”

Another thing first aid training does: it ruins you for death scenes. Someone will be splayed on the floor, gasping out a final monologue, their lover tearfully cradling their head in their lap, and I'll be there screaming at the screen: DO something, he's clearly still breathing! Apply compression to the wound!! Why are you not doing CPR?! Yes, I know she whispered something moving, and closed her eyes prettily, but you need to check her airway, she's not dead YET, but she WILL BE!!! Drama is anathema to proper first aid procedure.

Rabinna is praying to the Khajiiti version of Kynareth, who plays the role of a psychopomp, taking souls to heaven.

“No,” Ire pleaded with her. “No, not yet. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He repeated it over and over, each time less sure which action he was apologising for most.

Sometimes, I think I should have had Iriel fail to save Rabinna, being incapable of healing her. It would form a better contrast to his later successful healing of Julan, near the end of the fic. But perhaps this chapter is bleak enough, and it's not like Iriel needs the angst. At this point, his guilt was going to be critical-mass, regardless of whether she lived or died. And he deserves that, but what's actually going to matter is what he does with it. Guilt is useless on its own, if all it does is make you feel bad and hate yourself, but carry on acting in exactly the same shitty ways.

I have a lot of sympathy for how things like addiction and mental illness put people into psychological survival mode, where it's incredibly difficult to see far enough past your own immediate needs and suffering to care about other people's. I never wanted Iriel to be completely unsympathetic, but here, he totally fails at basic moral responsibility to others. There were things he was capable of doing, he recognised that fact, and then failed to even try to do those things until it was almost too late. He's been selfish and awful, and he knows it.

Knows it... because a helpless slave being stabbed in front of him is impossible to miss. He should get no credit for moral enlightenment, here. What about when the bar isn't on the floor, has Iriel learned to watch out for the needs and suffering of other people, maybe people who aren't obviously way more vulnerable than him?

So much of Iriel's character development, and the fic in general, ended up being about this, about caring for people, and what that means. Obviously it gets tangled up with his issues around giving and receiving love, but it's not a romantic theme at its core. It's about the terrifying fragility of life, and the depths of pain that exist within the people around us, all the time. And how hard it is not to look away from it, because if you see it, then you might have to do something, but what? What can any of us do about pain, when we're so weak and stupid and full of pain ourselves? How can you heal anyone when you're made out of knives?

next: 23: fix previous: 17: VCDRKAA & 18: language & 19: knowledge & 20: again

[owmylasagna-blog]

EDDY 1, 2, 3, 7, 8 (that's so many you don't have to answer all of them lol)

Heyyyy I’m happy to have a reason to talk about my boy!

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

I’ve come to appreciate Eddy so much! He reminds me of fire signs in my life: driven, passionate, not in total control of their emotions but they’ll tell it to you like it is, outgoing and adventurous! I like his dry humour in the earlier seasons and screwball antics in the later. I find his lines and Tony’s delivery of them to be soooo funny. I like his character design a lot, honestly it’s the most unique and interesting of the three eds. I like that he’s into retro fashion and music and movies.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

He’s the engine that runs the eene machine!! I think it’s really admirable that Eddy does everything for The Boys. It’s easy to see Eddy’s intentions as solely selfish and sometimes he is incredibly selfish but often he’s in it for the cash so he and his friends make out good at the end of the day. The guy wants them all to be accepted and not bullied or excluded. He’s just… been give the wrong instructions 👀

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

I like the bad things Eddy does (from a character perspective).

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

Making him very fruity and gaaaay. But in a nuanced way! I mean, I’d say a majority of us are also queer so it’s easy to imagine and sympathize with this aspect of his character. Folks write his identity journey following BPS in such rich ways, let him be himself with room for growth and the ability to unlearn harmful thinking. Yeah!

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Make him skinny. I sound like a fucking broken record but it’s never not true. I’ve seen some takes where fans envision him as a deadbeat right wing or libertarian hack or pyramid schemer or whatever when he’s older and I don’t personally care for that. Luckily both of these things are kinda old news 😉

[humansbgone]

(This is content for Humans-B-Gone!, an animated sci-fi series about a giant praying mantis who works in pest control--those pests including humans. Watch it on YouTube here: https://youtube.com/c/humansbgone )

All paintings for Gregorsa's lecture are done, and I'm even fairly happy with them!

Not only that, but all sound work--final recordings, editing them together, final music, sound effect gathering, editing and placing--is also done!

Next week, work begins on sets and props for the animation itself. Aiming to keep things simple, so hopefully done within the week! After that, three weeks of animation, a day or so for notes, and we're done! Boy, this one flew by. However, next episode is looking much harder....

(By the way, if last week you guessed "diatoms" for the mystery organisms in the paintings--you are absolutely correct! Award yourself five secret Gregorsa points.)

This is the last update of the year. Looking back at my progress is a marvel. This marks three years that I've been at work on HBG, and each year has been a major milestone. 

The first year, I conquered years of writer's block, and a lifetime of despising my own work too much to seriously take on an original setting. I finally had the confidence to work on my dream project, and wrote novels' worth of content. (Granted, mostly disjointed snippets, but I'm still pleased.) I also made tons of concept art, and had fun exploring the range of voices I could do for different characters. (I can't wait to introduce you to them!) I also tackled my most ambitious 3d modeling tasks yet!

The second year, I made even more models. I made myself animate, putting into practice things I had previously only passively absorbed. I released the project to the public for the first time, and from barely animating at all, made the jump to releasing entire short animations, and even a short episode!!! I'm still amazed to think of the leaps and bounds I made that year. I even did some music!

This past year, the third year, I made three episodes and a bonus video, each close to five minutes long, released faster and faster. At the time it felt laboriously slow, but looking back I'm stunned at how much I put out. Real episodes of Humans-B-Gone! Wow!!! I learned to make concessions along the way, and ended up rewriting much of what I had plotted, but in the end was able to meet my goal of introducing Sophodra in the main series before the year was out! I also got in much more worldbuilding than I had anticipated.

This coming year will be the fourth year. Over the past three years, I increasingly created things I never would have dreamed myself capable of. Though the growth of the viewership sadly hasn't matched my own enthusiasm for the project, I intend to keep at it, and get out the characters, setting and story that I've wanted to for so long. 

What will I be capable of this year? Who knows? I'm excited for what new capabilities Blender (the program I create HBG in) has been developing, which will make things easier and easier, especially as I create more and more assets. I may even try crowdfunding so I can hire on some help with backgrounds, animation and music! With any luck, we'll make it to the introduction of some major plot points before we hit the fifth year.

Thank you to all of you who supported HBG along the way! I hope you're excited to see the new sights and meet the new characters that are coming. Until next time!