#gold also is only valuable because everyone says it is

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

I think a recession is just what we call the phenomenon when too many people realize the economy is fake too quickly

[resident-idiot-simp]

Characterization for the Modern Warfare boys and how I write them

Soap- Loud angry and mean but honorable and a good man. He has anger issues but is a great soldier one of the best actually. He would give you the shirt off his back but would punch you in your teeth just as quickly. He's fast snarky and a flirt he knows he's good and he knows what he's worth. He acts like a puppy but half of that is an act he is like that yes but he's not clueless. He will cuddle up to you before sicking a thing of dynamite in your back pocket without thinking just because you don't expect him.

Ghost- he is reserved and snarky. He is blunt to the point of hilarity and won't blank while saying the most vulgar things you've ever heard. He's harsh but not mean in training and what he teaches you is more valuable than gold. He is slow to trust but will grasp on once he does. He is sweet when given the reason to be and really is just a guy™

Gaz- he is a flirt and sarcastic as HELL. He loves making people laugh and wants everyone to have a good time. He is a damn near ideal soldier Is competent in anything you assign him. He will make a great Captain one day and the 141 will make sure he has that chance. He's also charming as can be and knows it using it his advantage

Price- Take no shit and return what is given to you 10 times over. He is mean and will do what is necessary. Even if it's hard and he would rather it be him then one of his men. He has no qualms telling people of higher ranks to go do one and will do it when he sees fit. He never lies to his team It is very honest about their odds. People would follow him into hell because they know they would come back.

MacTavish- OCD ridden chronic overthinker. Nothing he does is enough but little does he know he's one of the best. His men know he cares that he will do anything to get them back. He is extremely tactical and competent not afraid to make the hard calls. He always puts himself on the line first for better or worse. He can be cruel but never unnecessarily so, at least not without reason. And the people against him shake in fear of what he will do because he isn't predictable. He must know every variable before he makes a decision just to ensure it is perfect.

Riley- Manic. He is unhinged and uncontrollable. Whatever he seems to think is necessary he will do no hold bars. He will be the first to rip out a mans throat because he can. The only reason he is still on a team is because Shepherd owns him otherwise he would be better off put down. He is hyper sexual and a grade A whore as a way to control his life and cope with the atrocities he's been through. He is loud and a moment away from exploding at any point. He is terrifying.

Roach- Crypted he knows everything he sees everything. You look up boom he's in the vents. He is damn near unkillable and a resourceful little shit who could survive if dropped in Antarctica with nothing. No one knows how and he isn't revealing his secrets anytime soon. They have seen him fall off of cliffs and come back with nothing but a scratch.

Og Price- A once competent soldier with very little morals now turned control freak who wants to hold on to the little normality that he had left from before the gulag. AKA MacTavish. That is all he has now and he will do anything to keep it no matter the cost and no matter how it affects MacTavish. He is illogical and insane with no comprehension of how his actions will affect other people. He is doing what he thinks is best not what actually is.

Og Gaz- He is very similar to remake Gaz. The only difference is he is much more snarky and has a lot fewer morals. He would go along with whatever Price did from before the gulag no matter how useless it was. He was Price's way of talking back to the higher ups before he stopped caring after the gulag. Really a mouthpiece for Price's opinions.

[its-tin]

My shot at @abbeyofcyn’s CTIYS!

Fun fact this is actually my first time ever doing something like this (or even posting art in general) and I might have gone a bit overboard with it. I coloured it twice because I had two ideas wanted to try both. My finger needs rest and I can’t fathom that Ibis is telling me that I spent 16-nearly-17 hours on this lol. But! I’m happy I did. This was so much fun to do! I only recently started with digital art and I decided to try and do new things with this. Who knew shading could be so enjoyable? I also found it very entertaining to try and shove as many small details as I can into this (an example being in the first one, Donnie’s bags (?) actually being Leo’s (he has them in the show :] ) that he *cough* borrowed to store interesting things he finds in the apocalypse).

ANYWAYS ENOUGH YAPPING HERE IT IS!

First one (what I call my normal attempt): “Gold”

(I actually forgot that his mechanical arm is green too and only realised it when I was late into the second one lol) I wanted to emphasise with the colours that they are still in the apocalypse, but it’s but brighter with those you care for. They’re the most valuable thing in the world, and hence, Gold! I also wanted to try doing a golden hour scene and MAN did I struggle. But, I’m proud of it :)

Small trigger warning! The next one contains a bit of blood and implied death.

Second one (Angst tehe): “Hollow peace”

(MY QUALITY NOOOOO-) This was actually my first thought on the CTIYS before I changed my mind and started on the other. I had the thought that maybe Leo “failed”, losing them in some recent battle and now is just chilling with their ghosts and ow that hurts saying aloud. They stumble upon a new area, and it’s so peaceful and beautiful, but Leo can’t enjoy it. He wouldn’t even know how to. He can’t remember how to feel, how to think beyond ‘survive’. He’s failed everyone and everything. He cries without knowing for what. He’s a husk caring for the hauntings of his kids, they’re the only thing keeping him alive. And as long as they’re still here, still smiling at him despite him being a monster and failing them, he still has a purpose. He will live on.

Wow I talk a lot. Anyways go follow @abbeyofcyn they’re super cool and post amazing art. They inspire me so much on so many different levels and I am very happy to be able to do this. Rad person with stunning fanart and stories.

(Incredible line art done by @abbeyofcyn (sorry I’ve tagged you thrice in one post))

And here’s the link to the Original Post if you want to try yourself! I recommend, but you do you. :D

Thanks for listening to my rambles and have a lovely rest of your day/night! :]

[ranticore]

since harpies in ISOK can understand the concept of scarcity and luxury, i was wondering, beside rare colours, what else humans can make that harpies would walue? commodities of some sort? more sophisticated stuff like embroidery and jewelry? or maybe something more artistic? like would a painting impress them? also, are common cobs and pens allowed to have personal belongings? or is it only a king/tiercel privilege?

so when it comes to wealth, harpies measure theirs in terms of flock prosperity - the very existence of a tiercel is a display of wealth, for example, but among normal harpies they also can show off how they're flourishing by spending time on art and personal grooming - there is a big emphasis on appearances (if a bird's diet is bad or lacking, their feathers won't grow in right or they will have seize lines in them - so a clean and well-feathered appearance is vital to this display of Look How I Prosper). they always want to show off

that's where the human wealth comes in as well. they understand that human wealth is displayed differently, with physical luxuries and riches. if a human society values gold, then the harpies want gold too, but not because they intrinsically value gold. they value it because humans value it and this is a way to show off to humans (why limit your showing off to just harpies anyway? everyone should know how amazing you are)

because the human-derived wealth is made valuable only in its relationship with humans, it means that it's also culturally specific. gold's an easy one but let's say the human culture has certain dyes as markers of wealth. the harpies now want those dyes and colours. art, literature, even large amounts of crops and livestock - these will all be coveted by harpies who want to show the humans that they are wealthy.

would a painting impress them? if we say this is a human culture where a gorgeous painting in beautiful realistic oil paint style is something that a lord would commission for his great house, yes, that painting would be impressive. as impressive as a rock would be if that also hung on the wall of the great house, by the standards of Wealth. but harpies are artists too and would be able to appreciate a nice composition or good colourwork as much as any human might intrinsically enjoy a work of art even if it was monetarily worthless

any harpy can have personal belongings, there aren't any rules against that or anything. many flocks have no king (or tiercels) and harpies still wanna show off

all this works in reverse as well! a human falconer who wants to win the privilege of a harpy egg from a wild flock will need to show off their own wealth to the harpies. gold & fine art are all well and good, but sometimes a falconer has to speak the harpies' language, as it were, and come visiting with a "tiercel"(=any very beautiful person dressed in beautiful clothes) hanging off their arm.

[perpetualexistence]

if noah was actually written as the schemer, how do you think it would have gone exactly? love your writings btw

Thank you so much! And oh, anon. Anon you've unlocked character analysis mode. I hope you're ready for a bunch of paragraphs, because that's what you're getting.

First of all, as much as I love writing a Noah who can scheme on par with Alejandro or Heather, he's a different kind of schemer than them. Noah’s a lazy character at heart, particularly season 1 Noah. This is true whether or not you believe the theory that he sabotaged himself to get out of the game early. He’s a child who was born naturally smart. He hacked his way into moderating a forum at age 5 because he truly believed he could do a better job at it. He's going to believe in working smarter rather than harder.

Thus, his scheming reflects this. If Heather is a snake, and Alejandro is an eel, then Noah is a vulture. (Specifically a white-rumped vulture since its habitat as India. This isn't actually important to the narrative. But it's important to me to have animals that share the same roots as the characters they represent.) The bird has a reputation for being evil, but isn’t really. Noah’s more opportunistic than anything. He’s the type to let other people do all the hard work before swooping in for the kill.

His plan going into Island is to latch onto the strongest competitor and ride their coat tails. He'll stay in the middle of the pack for as long as possible. Once that's no longer an option, he'll commit to winning challenges to gain immunity.

Cue Heather. He can immediately recognize that she's one to take charge and sabotage. Which is perfect for him. He presents himself as an option for being her spy for the boys once he realizes she's looking for alliances (because I do rather like this direction that canon could have taken if they had committed to him being the schemer). He lets Heather take the lead, though does offer valuable suggestions based on his observations on the other contestants.

He also commits to getting close with Lindsay. He needs her to be more loyal to him than she is to Heather. He does this by indulging in her attempts to have them all be best alliance buddies. Babes, as she calls them. Noah tries arguing that there shouldn't be an 'e' in there, and also he's not a 'babe'. Heather and her, sure. But definitely not him. Lindsay refuses to listen to this logic because he's a part of the alliance, so he's a babe, and they can just give him a makeover if he's hung up on it!

Noah and Lindsay do end up becoming legitimate friends. The potential friendship of bimbo with a heart of gold and cold little cynic is just too much for me not to have them be friends. Schemer Noah still has a heart. And if he can have a friend and a shot at the prize money, then he'll take both. Besides, it's not like he's doing her any harm in trying to keep her completely from Heather's clutches.

All the while, he's making plans for eventually betraying Heather. He establishes early on that he has a 'journal' that's clearly a diary. It doesn't have anything in it, but no one else knows that. After a few episodes, he'll complain about it going missing. Not too long after, he'll be completely quiet about the matter.

See, Noah's patient. Once he's ready to drop Heather, he'll absolutely reveal the alliance. And he'll reveal that the only reason he was a part of it was because Heather stole his journal and threatened to read it to everyone just like she'd done to Gwen. It would immediately gain him sympathy points and paint a huge target on Heather's back that he'd coast by stress-free. And who are they going to believe? The girl who's been tormenting everyone from the beginning? Or the guy who hasn't been doing much?

Part of me wants to say he'd reveal this grand plan during/after Lindsay's elimination when it is suddenly very clear the alliance is over. Either way, his plan has worked, and now he can just coast on his sympathy until he's in the final three.

He still doesn't win the season. This is due to a combination of factors, centered around one thing: his overconfidence in his intelligence. He can make a plan, and he can execute it flawlessly. But he doesn't do so well at improvising, or thinking of what comes after.

He assumed that tossing Heather aside would see her focus her effort on winning and trying not to get eliminated. He underestimated how vindictive she would be, to the point of risking her own elimination to make sure Noah doesn't win, either. He also neglected to play the social game thanks to spending most of his time spying. Sure, he has their sympathy for being used by Heather. But most of them barely know him, and they'd rather protects their own friends than go out of their way to not eliminate Noah.

I don't know when exactly he'd be eliminated. It could be either before or after Heather, though I don't see him making it to the final three. I think final three is the farthest I'd be willing to put him, because there's no way he's not quitting on the dares before Owen or Gwen.

At the playa de losers, he has a bit of an existential crisis because this is the first time his intelligence hasn't just given something to him. Lindsay helps him through it in her own Lindsay way by serving as a reminder that she isn't smart, but she's still kicking! Plus, she was still able to tell Heather off, to which he would admit he was fairly impressed with the insults she threw down. He had no idea she had it in her.

He still manages to make friends with Izzy and Eva. This mainly happens during the special when all of a sudden there's a million on the line. He throws his lot in with two of the physically strongest competitors (who don't currently hate his guts), and accidentally makes more friends along the way. (I can never abandon Team E-scope).

When World Tour hits, he knows he has to force himself to be a more active participant. He knows he can't win the physical game, so he'll just have to, ugh, put effort into the social game. He still needs someone else to latch onto to help him with that, so he settles for Owen. He tells Owen that he's trying to be more 'friendly', and Owen's more than happy to take him under his wing! He's never really done that before! It'll be fun for both of them, he promises! (Nowen to some extent is also a constant in any of my ideas).

Meanwhile he also has to keep tabs on Alejandro. He sees the guy going after Team Victory one by one, but doesn't say anything because it's not his problem. ...Until he remembers that Lindsay is in Team Victory. So now he's got to scheme a way to get Alejandro to steer his attention away from Lindsay while also making sure Alejandro doesn't figure out who he's trying to protect.

It'll probably eventually lead to him and Heather teaming up against Alejandro as an 'enemy of my enemy' pact. Except Alejandro sees this and begins to tempt Noah to join his side as well. Everyone in the trio knows that the others are trying to take advantage of them. It's very much a Mexican standoff.

Aaaaand that's all I've got! I know Season 3 wasn't as detailed as Season 1 was, but I'm getting tired as I'm writing this reply due to the time I'm writing it. Also, the ideas have straight up run out for now, so time will tell what happens.

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, anon!

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Sir Arthur's Beloved Older Brother~

(Young) Kit Cosmos/Dakonyo

Like I said in the last post about Kit Cosmos, he is KBASW's Sir Kay.

Much like his counterpart (Sir Kay in the original Arthurian lore), Kit pretty much serves as Arthur's steward. But in this case, he manages Arthur, helping him to keep him in check. (serving as his right-hand man...) Along the course of forging a brotherhood where, Arthur ends up being adopted by Kit's entire clan.

I story I'll have to save it for later because I have one very important key element I've got to finish. Sir Ector: I need to finish the character design for... Kit's father and Arthur's father figure.

Connecting him to Sir Arthur gave me a chance to be a more integral part of the story. Not only that, but (spoilers for the anime)...it also gives his return in the final & his role in the final battle more meaning. The man fought so long to see N.M.E end, and they finally did it! <3

Keep reading for more explanation/ bonus content

So, Kit's species are dwarves and weren't very respected. They were seen as uncivilized, uncouth, brash, and rather loud. They're lost, though... they were actually one of the kindest & most welcoming people you'd ever meet. Very much like the dwarves from Lord of the Kings & the Hobbit... This is why they would mainly stay in their lane and would mainly stay on their planet Bremen (a reference to the folk tale "Town Musicians of Bremen").

Bremen is a planet filled with numerous winding mountains and rich with minerals very in tune with nature... And filled with Celtic magic. Bremen Place plays a major role in KBASW, later.

Staying away from the galaxy was their way of saying, "Hey, if you don't respect us... YA GET NONE OF US!" However, they couldn't play that card any longer once the War on Nightmare started up. And Bremen was one of the many planets that got sucked into the war.

However, their skill in mining blacksmithing was unmatched throughout the galaxy. Plus, their mountains contain valuable ores that could be used. But the mountains in which they lay were dangerous and could easily be caved in... that is unless you were an outsider. The people of Bremen knew how to navigate the dangerous mountains easily.

Very much needed their aid, the Ancients very much had to such up to and grovel...

Kit's kind saw each other as equals; four sections of the planet are divided to be managed properly, and they have one clan leader who brought them all together... Sir Ector Cosmos. The Ancients offered Sir Ector a seat on the galactic council.

But unlike King Fisher... Sir Ector knew greedy eyes when he saw them, knowing they were just trying to butter him up. He knew they needed protection from Nightmare, but he wasn't about to let them take advantage of him and his clan.

He would provide them with materials & pay them for their services however... when it came to paying them... he would give them their own brand of fool gold (a counter fit forged with Celtic magic). A forgery that could be easily made on the dot.

It's thanks to Sir Ector that half the gold that was distributed in the gambling galaxy is actually fools' gold. It became an inside joke in Breman, with Sir Ector saying, "To us, it's fool's gold... BUT TO THEM, IT'S JUST GOLD! *Knee slap*

With everyone in the clan just bursting out laughing...

However, of course, the tensions were still high, the ice was thin, and with how proud the dwarves were, they were afraid of upsetting them once... The Ancients suggested maybe one of them joining the GSA army might improve relations.

Kit volunteered... while the majority of his kind didn't mind what people thought of them. Kit thought this would be a chance to issue change in how they were seen. He was young and eager to make a change, this was also out of his desire of, wanting to grow out of his father's shadow.

Sir Ector was strongly against the idea, he didn't like the idea that one of his own was going out to war for the GSA. He heard unsavory rumors of the place... and didn't like his boy was going out into the unknown on his own saying:

"Just because they're willing to include one of us doesn't mean they respect all of us... it doesn't mean squat when they'll still look at ya-... change like this is gonna take a long time, it won't be worth it... I don't want you to see yourself get hurt, Kay... just drop it and stay home, okay, lad. "

But Kit was rather firm on his decision... despite his disapproval, Sir Ector supported his son's decision. However, the Ancients promised that he'd be treated with the utmost respect, and he'd go to one of Sir Uther's very own apprentices, Sir Nonsurat.

~ On Arthur's side

At this point in this timeline, Arthur has accepted Merlyn (Celestine) as his friend. And officially become their secret accomplish, ready and willing to help "right the wrongs Uther has done. And is determined to change for the better...

He has accepted & knows his demons and doesn't want to fall into that pit again... knowing full well his poor decisions & mistakes are fueled by his paranoia and aggroance.

Arthur never had a second in command (a right-hand man, so to speak) and "Not trusting anyone to do the job as good as him..." and he sorely needed a second opinion, but there was a problem.

Due to this status of being Uther top soldier, as well as his reputation of being a ruthless killing machine who didn't have the most pleasant aura... he was gonna end up with a little yes, man... it was gonna be hard to find someone to keep in check & be bluntly honest with him!

However, that was until he saw Kit mouthing off Nonsurat without a care, practically demanding him to put him in the ring. In most battles, he was told to stay in the back of the line or supervise the base, and he was just SO BORED!

In Nonsurat's defense, he was told by the Ancients to "make sure he stayed alive..." And didn't want to inquire about the wrath of Sir Uther if he messed up. And Uther would remind him how important this was for their image & not to dare sour relations with Sir Ector.

When Arthur approached Kit, he (Kit) had basically had enough of being put on the sideline and exploding on Arthur. Not accepting any of this "malarky anymore," along with some accompanying swear words. "Equivalent to how the Scotsman first insulted Jack." from Samurai Jack

They both remained silent... for a while, the two, staring at one another... with Arthurr finally mustering up the question, "Um, do you know who I am"

Kit:" YES, I DO, MISTER GOLDEN BOY, SIR ARTHUR, AND I DONNA CARE WHO YOU ARE AND-

Arthur: *enthusiastically* " YES, YOU'RE PERFECT!"

Kit: "YA DARN RIGHT I AM-uh wait wa- for what!?

Leading to this legendary... (the convo above)

While brash and hotheaded at times... Arthur always appreciated Kit's honesty, knowing very well having a Yes-man around him would only fuel his worse vices. Not only that, but this unfiltered honesty & having Kit not really care for his status... He didn't have to be this grand, domineering figure. It was with this sense of ease that he realized he had gained another friend.

With Kit, he was genuinely valued and respected by Arthur and fearless and stood up for him (a story which I will touch up on another day). And he finally got to bash a few skulls. While Kit sought to make the galaxy a more accepting world for his people... Arthur sought to make the world more accepting. He and Arthur were kindred spirits who both sought change... These were things that bonded them as brothers.

~

And now

THE ORIGINAL TRIO IS COMPLETE

Similar to how Kirby had his trio, Meta Knight has his trio, Celestine & Kit were Arthur's. And yeah, I know so many LoTR/Hobbit references

The love I have for Kit Cosmos is ridiculous! I'm giving all the anime characters the upgrades they deserve. I was worried that he wasn't gonna look dwarvish enough, but I think I was able to achieve the vision I had for him. I didn't think Kit would turn out this good.

I hope my writing isn't too shaky and I manage to write everything down properly...

I really hope you guys enjoyed this, and stay tuned for more~

[amywritesthings]

about you. (cassian x you)

Pairing: Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Summary: You are a rebel spy working as an escort at Canto Bight's cliffside casino. When Luthen cannot meet you for an intel exchange on New Year's Eve, he sends his best asset. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that meant you'd reunite with your former childhood best friend, Cassian Andor.

Warnings: New Year's Eve, Spy Thriller, Escort Service, Romantic Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Reunions, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Mentions of Sex Work, Wall Pinning, New Year's Eve Kiss

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! I had a fun holiday one shot idea and wanted to try my hand at writing Cassian Andor. I am wishing you all a happy & healthy new year, and I can't wait to continue writing in 2023.

( Read on AO3 )

Canto Bight is always bustling at New Year’s Eve.

It’s why Luthen Rael has shown up on your doorstep for the first time in months. In his not-so subtle way, the man requests (see: demands) that you float back to your old haunt, the one within the glittering halls of their monument cliffside casino, and do what you do you best: entertain as a partner experience escort for the rich and powerful. 

The partner experience operation has been your designation from the very beginning of this rebellious calling. Your contribution to the rebellion, as he claims, is valuable — because the whispers in the night by decorated Imperials that feel safe in your company are priceless.

Whispers bring intel, and not even gold is as priceless as Imperial intel.

Luthen claims he knew of your potential the moment he laid eyes on you in a seedy dive bar on an Outer Rim moon. The little lamb far from her home planet Ferrix, looking fearful yet enraged all the same; starved, but most importantly willing to do anything to take down the Empire one domino at a time.

It was the type of spunk the older man needed in a claustrophobic world.

So you struck a deal: under trained supervision, you would run the casino circuits and red districts — never quite getting close enough to sleeping with the enemy (who knew the Empire thrived on humiliation and edging?) but enough to drug them, learn from them, then report back to him for the next move.

Rinse and repeat for six successful years.

And right now, you were supposed to be done. Find a small shack in the middle of nowhere knowing you did your part in the small but mighty agenda. Perhaps, eventually, you would find a way to make peace with your past and your present.

Then Luthen fucking Rael shows up at the stoop of said shack only six months later with a new opportunity.

A new strategy on the chess board.

(The rebellion, as he so candidly puts it, is never final.)

“Did you hear about what’s going on with Life Day this year on Canto Bight?” Luthen grunts, opting to stand by the doorway rather than a seat at your makeshift kitchen table.

You drop down unceremoniously with your arms at your sides. You know — and you know he knows — there is a blaster taped on the belly of the steel table should this be an unpleasant visit.

“You mean the Wookie holiday?”

“Hmm,” Luthen sounds, caught between a yes and a no. “Supposed to be the Wookie holiday, but it seems the Empire has allowed the casino a profitable chance to participate until the new year.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” you muse in return, surveying him. “When you say profitable, you mean—”

“Everyone who is anyone will be visiting.” Luthen never makes any sudden movements; always trapped sounding bored with this life he leads. It’s also a tactic not to play his cards too far from his chest. “They’ll be running the gambit for paid time off.”

Smile bland, you nod once. “Which is code for… you need someone on the inside.”

“For the season,” he agrees, shifting his weight. “A gift to the faces who may have missed you.”

“Missed me?”

“I hear about the Diamond quite a lot.”

Their precious Diamond.

Maker, that nickname always made your skin crawl.

You huff, rubbing your nose with the back of your thumb. “Flattery gets you nowhere with me, Luthen, you know that.”

He takes a pause, small eyes observing everything that you do. Updating a mental database logging your quirks and your discomfort to cipher for a later date — that’s all he’s ever done, study and download people, and he’s done so without error yet.

(It’s why he’s never been caught.)

“It isn’t flattery,” he finally says. “It’s an opportunity.”

To do everything we couldn’t the first time, is what he really implies.

It’s feeding an addiction no amount of dead fascists will be able to quench.

“And how do I tell them why I want the job back after I quit?”

“Your mother was very ill. You needed to help with her expenses,” Luthen fabricates from thin air. “It was easiest to part ways without the low note on your record. But the credits have dried up, and their clientele will be thankful of the casino’s decision to allow you back on the floor.”

It’s your turn to pause — to study. He gives away nothing. You lean forward to rest your elbows on the tops of your thighs.

“You think that’ll work?”

“You’ll sell it,” is all he gives back like you’ve already said yes.

You’re supposed to be out.

(Do you want to be out?)

.

.

.

.

.

No.

No, you don’t.

.

.

.

.

.

Getting the job back at the casino as a specialized escort is easy. The difficulty lies in remembering how to fall into old, subtle habits when all you want to do is cause chaos. Staying engaged while chatting up Imperial scum as they spittle in their expensive liquors and moan about the woes of their occupations and agenda can only go on for so long.

Yet you laugh with the rest of them once they’re kissing your feet and your hands, because everyone in this rebellion has a part to play.

(Our loveliest of diamonds, back to see us once again.)

Luthen, of course, never leaves you to your own devices for long. Gifting a hefty sum of credits and a bag of dissolvable sedatives every time he passes through Canto Bight as his alter ego is about as noble as the illusive man gets.

You fill small briefcases with voice memos and holovideos of nightly conversations, drunken manifestos and slippery plans.

It works.

By some miracle, you have never been caught.

New Year’s Eve is filled to the brim with Imperial guards enjoying time off from their grueling schedules. Some of the higher commanding officers already have their arms draped over people inviting them to a great time. Others chase after the debauchery promised by scantily clad creatures inviting them into the halls and out of their money.

You? Have a booking in advance: a high-ranking officer, but not within the Inner Circle.

According to Luther, he’s a valuable asset double-crossing their superiors.

A plant.

You are to deliver the intel to him under Luthen’s command and trust.

(Ironic. You always believed Luthen trusted no one.)

At the final half hour of the year’s end, you round the corner from the main entertainment room and down the hallway towards the private event spaces. A multitude of sounds are muffled by the doors — some good, some not so. Your focus is set on the twelfth door where your officer awaits, and suddenly you feel nervous all over again.

Meeting one of Luthen’s other operatives feels all too daunting.

After a moment, you place your code into the code box by the door and wait for the durasteel to slide, revealing the plush crimson meeting space. It's staged with a convenient king-sized bed and a vanity for refreshment, inviting comfort and suggesting the obvious.

What greets you as the door opens — a silhouette at the edge of the bed, dressed in Imperial formals — is not what you envisioned.

The man’s hair is what you notice first: disheveled brown locks are combed back neatly, smoothed by gel to keep the unruliness at bay. The jacket’s shoulders are a little too pointed, as if he’s not grown into his uniform quite yet — or like he’d stolen it on his way into the venue. The lines on his faces aren’t new, but aren’t old. He’s tired — so fucking tired, but he sits taller the second the door opens.

The blank expression on his face is purposeful, almost doe-eyed, with a feigned, smug-like innocence only an Imperial officer would wear.

Then his gaze travels from your open-toed shoes, up your bodysuit dress of sequins, and locks onto your face.

Just like that, the façade is broken.

What once was blank now hardens, wholly confused, before the lines on his prominent brow smooth with recognition.

Cassian.

Of all the idiots in all the galaxy, Cassian Andor is dressed as an Imp in your meeting space on the eve of the new year.

And you thought, with this rebellion, that you’d seen everything.

While the officer in disguise is much older than what your memory recalls, you could never forget that face even if the Empire tried. The feeling of dirt under your fingernails, the scent of rubber burning, the spark of an electric charge from a stolen piece of property — it all floods back in a tidal wave, almost knocking you a step back into the hallway.

On Ferrix, Cassian Andor always ran around with different people — sometimes it was Bix when she wasn’t punished for entertaining teen scoundrels; sometimes it was other boys in scrappy brawls and mended machinery; most of the time, however, it was you.

Hand and hand, causing mayhem in the bright suns and the full moons. He'd shown you what it meant to stand up for yourself. To want what you want and not apologize for it. To be bold, even at the expense of disruption.

And then he’d pummel whatever wayward eye looked at you the wrong way.

Trouble. 

Cassian Andor was so much trouble, and you were mad for it.

Your last memory of him is as vivid as the neon lights lining the ceiling: you're both sixteen years old and shoulder-to-shoulder on an inclined metal slab, staring up at the stars. He's wearing that jacket from his father and hasn't combed his hair in days. You're lost in telling him about your dreams of a better tomorrow, of one day leaving Ferrix for good and making a difference in the vastness of the galaxy despite how small you feel. He laughs, a hum more than anything else, and takes your hand in his.

You're too afraid to squeeze back.

Having Cassian poke fun of the idea of doing much of anything in the galaxy never felt like he mocked you for wanting to try. More than anything, his laugh was one of envy: he couldn’t afford dreams, so you dreamt for the both of you. He couldn’t handle intimacy, so you were satisfied with resting your hand in his the entire night.

Nothing was said. Nothing had changed.

He gave what he could, and you understood.

Childhood friendship has a funny way of feeling that simple.

Cassian, however, never truly chose to change with you. He never truly chose anyone, not really, not when he had so much to give — to his mother, to his scrapyard confidantes, to Bix.

You fit somewhere in the chapters of his life, but Cassian Andor could never tell you which ones. He could not, and would not, promise someone tomorrow.

An unfinished book.

You never did tell him where you were going after hitching a ride on that stock transport to get the hell out of Ferrix for good. Not a single holocard or a note.

Just… gone, into the galaxy, to dream.

Now he sits in front of you at the edge of your meeting space bed, threatening to ruin your calculated cover in one-fell swoop.

Before Cassian can implode your operation, you turn on the mask: with a bright smile and squared shoulders, you gesture to the plush furniture of the room. “Is it to your liking, Mr. —?”

You trail off on your question to give him a chance to speak.

Cassian blinks a few times, only to remember himself.

“Raoul,” he blurts without dismissing his accent, eyes widening with an unspoken question: what are you doing here? “Sargeant Murl Raoul.”

Maker, you haven’t heard that voice in so long.

It’s deeper now. Rusty. Scratched.

“Sargeant,” you correct pleasantly, taking a step into the bedroom to toe the perimeter. Cassian pulls the geometric gray hat clear from his head, balling it in his fist, but you raise a palm at the hip when his mouth opens: don’t.

He listens, pressing his lips together with purpose.

“I asked if this room was to your liking," you repeat.

Cassian struggles with an answer, studying you with concern. You hate it. You hated it back on Ferrix when he tried to play protector, and a decade and a half apart doesn’t dilute the emotion.

Your brows rise, and he clears his throat. “I— yes, I am quite comfortable.”

“Good,” you conclude with a small nod. “Now before I join you and get more comfortable, do you have any questions for me?”

“More comfortable?” he asks a little too fast, so you recover with a glide of your hand along your sparkling thigh.

“Can’t do much when I’m in this old thing,” you coo, that stage performer voice now sounding so phony to your ears with a known audience. “Shouldn’t take long.”

Cassian runs the tip of his tongue along the seam off his lips, shifting his seat on the mattress. “I suppose I could ask how… uh, how long have you been doing… this?”

You don’t know if he’s asking about the escort arrangement or the Informant position, which further complicates the game. The odds of Cassian showing up on Canto Bight should be slim. Cassian wearing an Imperial outfit on his own ought to be slim to none. 

But appearing in your private meeting space, fake alias and all?

Your blood runs cold with truth between the lines.

(Luthen never does anything by accident.)

This meeting — reuniting Cassian and yourself — is his test, a judgment call, but you refuse to let Luthen win the game with this surprise hand.

“Years,” you answer honestly, to both.

You continue to face him as you skirt around the left side of the sparkling vanity, not taking any chances with your former friend. Your manicured fingers glide along the mirror’s back, searching for the planted Imperial wire.

(Not only are they cruel, but perverted in their efforts to catch spies.)

“So then you are... experienced?” The question comes out rougher than you believe he intends. Gruff, like he’s embarrassed to even ask.

(The question almost — almost — makes your face burn.)

“If you’re worried that you won’t have a good time, Sergeant, then I promise they sent you to me for a reason. I’m going to take great care of you.”

Cassian’s expression darkens at this as he rises to his feet with purpose.

You rip the microphone from the back of the mirror, holding the device between your index and middle finger for show. 

This stops him from moving ahead, eyes locked on the microphone before flickering back to you. You shake your head.

I said don’t.

He nods once, and you take the microphone between your hands. With two clicks, the wire cover pops open, displaying a multitude of tiny wires. You fidget between two, pulling, until the red eye at the center of the device dissolves into black.

The room is blanketed with silence.

Now it’s just you and a ghost here.

“We’re clear,” you tell him after another beat, dropping the seductive aloofness in your tone.

Cassian’s shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. “That was fast.”

Your brow picks up that fraction, raising high. “You have to dismantle them fast."

��Let me take a look at it,” Cassian replies, tossing the hat twisted in his hands to the mattress. "Are you certain it's off?"

“Positive,” you say, sheltering the item closer to your chest. “You don't need to look at it. Easy to disable and reassemble at a moment’s notice, so I’ll turn it back on when you depart.”

“What about lost footage?”

“Chalk it up as faulty equipment they’re too stubborn to replace in a shithole like this.”

Cassian mulls over your answer, taking a cautious few steps forward to observe the small device in your hand. “Imperial-grade wires are tough to work with. A five-second warning doesn’t give many people time to disable the alarm,” he informs in a whispered afterthought. “Where did you learn to do that?”

In your bones, you know it’s a trick question.

Fifteen-something years of reuniting in a moment like this comes with immense drawbacks. When he asks, it is not out of curiosity — it is out of the desire to see if you are truly you.

(Because he remembers your face, too.)

“On Ferrix,” you reply.

He gives no reaction, continuing to deadpan. “Where on Ferrix?”

“You want me to remember from that long ago?” you laugh, placing the microphone on the vanity’s surface and following up with a thick blue cloth to drape over top of it.

“Humor me,” he reasons, flexing his leather-clad fingers at his sides. Now that he doesn’t have a distraction, Cassian doesn’t stop looking at your face.

(The same intensity as the boy without dreams.)

“The old Slavyard. There was that one incredibly rainy month when those prim and proper freaks—”

“—installed the spyware on the back door in the middle of the night,” he interrupts, finishing the story with a misplaced awe under his breath. “You played lookout while I disabled the devices.”

You don’t answer, not really, as you offer a half-hearted smile. “Say what you want about that place, but you learn a lot of things when you watch restless boys who never know when to stop getting in trouble.”

The return smile is small and fleeting, but the corner of Cassian’s lip upticks. His brows knit together, contemplating before a huff of a laugh exits. “Not a very good lookout, then, if you were so busy watching me.”

“You never got caught, though, did you?” you joke.

You swear he almost laughs.

The silence settles at your ankles and rises with each passing second, encompassing you both in a shroud of possibilities: pleasantries are nice, but the popping of bottles and shouts of celebration passing by your room brings you both back to a reality where you’re playing pretend.

Cassian huffs once more, running a hand down his face and around his neck before dropping it in a gesture towards you. “He cannot be serious.”

He.

You catch that pronoun with intrigue and tilt your chin.

“Serious about what? Who’s ‘he’?”

His voice softens, shrinking in size, as he nears half a step closer and into your bubble. “Don’t tell me it’s you.” You maintain eye contact — maintain dominance of this situation — and stay in place. “When he said to wait…”

“...for the Informer, you didn’t think you’d run into a ghost?” you finish, and he’s polite enough not to nod. “He only told me the person he was sending in his stead was one of his best assets. This reunion isn’t my doing.”

“No,” Cassian agrees, low and certain. “It isn’t.”

Because Luthen knows.

Luthen knows, and that’s dangerous in and of itself: his little lamb on Ferrix knew his most trusted asset long before the mastermind was in the picture, and this sabotage is meant to figure you out.

(To figure you both out for his own gain: to make sure you were both up for the task, history aside.)

Your jaw clenches as you nod with assertion, mindful of the train of your body-tight dress when you shift around Cassian to create some space. He turns his torso, following.

“Did he force you to do this?” When you pause in your steps to quirk a brow, he struggles with verbalizing what this means. “Entertaining these low lives while they piss their credits away.”

“Very strong words for someone dressed as an Imp.”

He completely ignores you, hyper in his budding rage. “Because if anyone has touched you—”

“No one’s forcing me to do anything, Cass,” you reply, hateful that the former nickname leaves your lips so fluidly; as if no time has passed. “We’re all cogs working for the same machine.”

“That doesn’t mean he should be having you do this on your own,” the man argues. “He’s not even on the planet, for fuck’s sake. This is dangerous work.”

“You keep saying this or that, but you’re not really asking the real question.” Your nose scrunches, maliciously playful. “I don’t fuck them. It’s pretend, Cassian. My honor is intact.”

Cassian squints with a scoff. “That isn’t what I meant—”

“It isn’t?” you challenge.

“No,” he responds just as fast and just as intense. A smirk plays on your lips, slow and growing. “Fuck whoever you’d like to fuck. One or a dozen, I don’t care, but not them. They don’t deserve you.”

“And who does?”

“I don’t know, but not Luthen or the pieces of shit out there or anyone on this planet.”

“Not even you, right?”

He stares down at you, hard. You snort in disbelief.

“I never thought I’d see the day where Cassian Andor is jealous of a body count, but I guess stranger things have happened for both of us.”

Cassian’s jaw sets, nostrils flaring with an anger he refuses to bury completely. He searches your face, lost on a response, before sharply inhaling through his nose.

“I need information on your regulars.”

Ah.

No more games. 

You roll your eyes, absently waving him off as you turn to walk towards the crate-like nightstand. “I have the files on a drive.”

No more games, or so you thought — Cassian follows close behind. “Drives are easily corruptible or lost or stolen. You could just tell me.”

Your hand hovers on the drawer when you turn your chin to look at him. “Yeah, sure, let me just… tell you about a mission I’ve spent years finessing so you can get the details wrong when you relay with Luthen.”

“Do you think so little of my memory skills?” he says and it’s a joke, but it teeters on the edge of an argument.

Just like old times.

You don’t need this type of deja vu before the new year.

“Whisper down the lane only goes so far,” you answer, turning back to the drawer in front of you. Your hand lifts the edge of the bottom plate, removing a small box from the center of the hidden compartment.

You only pause when you feel his presence right behind you as soft puffs of air tickle the back of your exposed neck.

He says nothing, not at first, in this proximity. Then a syllable sounds:

“Why?”

The question is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it whisper. His voice flutters along your skin, causing a shiver down your spine. Deep down you know he’s not asking about the drive or your distaste for his preferred method of relay. Why — the one word you hoped to never face.

If you concentrate hard enough, you can smell the scent of his cologne.

It smells nothing like Cassian.

You stay focused on a miniscule dot on the wall, too afraid to turn around.

“We can’t do this here,” you murmur, barely audible in return.

“I paid for the hour,” he replies. “If I were to leave ten minutes into your company, then there would be questions.”

(He’s right. As much as you hate it, your former friend is right.)

You raise your chin to the ceiling, closing your eyes. Contemplating. Seeking anything, everything, to say to avoid what’s to come.

You open your mouth to speak, but Cassian gets there first.

“I looked for you.” A vulnerable statement from an impenetrable man. His chin leans forward, the warmth of him spreading to your aura. “In dozens of quadrants—”

“Cassian.”

“—and about a hundred planets—”

“Stop.”

“—but you left nothing.” The final word emphasizes with raw emotion, causing your throat to swell. His gloved hand rests on your tricep, but you turn to finally face him. The closeness of him is a surprise — piercing brown eyes meet yours with mere centimeters between noses. “No note, no goodbye, no telling where you might have headed. Nothing.”

Frowning, you don’t realize that you’re shaking your head. The lines on his face are too distracting. He is distracting.

“You were never supposed to see me again.”

“And I never understood why.” He steps forward. You step back. When you think he won’t advance, he continues to step once, twice, until the third lands your back to the corner of the room. “So I am asking — now — while I can still have you: why?”

While I can still have you. You know the implication isn’t there, not truly, but your heart aches for it. The tension makes you feel so small, as if you’re eighteen and flying all over again.

You’re supposed to be over this; over him.

“I had to start new,” you answer after a considerable pause, forcing yourself to look him in the eye in what little space is held between you. “I was always going to leave Ferrix.”

“I knew that,” he argues softly. “I was never going to deter you from—”

“No. No, you were never going to,” you agree, nodding. “But you were always off and on the planet, doing what you had to for everyone else. If I didn’t cut Ferrix out of my life, then I wonder if I would have had the same fate as my parents or my friends: getting stuck there. And not just getting stuck, but waiting.”

“Waiting?” Cassian asks with confusion, brows knit.

You relax against the wall with a humorless laugh. “How did you not see it? The way I always waited for you.” Anxious, you turn your cheek to check the main door as you mull over your next few words. “I would have waited my whole life for you.”

The air in the room shifts.

Although he remains in your peripheral vision, the man stays staring at you without a discernible expression. The gravity of what you’re admitting drags lower, lower, until he says something that forces you to look at him head-on:

“I thought you were indifferent to me.”

Your eyes widen. “Indifferent?”

Cassian nods, short and quick. “You had all these big plans. I listened for hours. Not one of them involved me.”

“Because I didn’t think you’d want to be a part of those plans.”

“Maybe I didn’t think I couldn’t make a difference, not in a… rebellion, though the irony is not lost on me now,” he admits with a huff of a laugh, “but I wanted to be a part of you. I didn’t care what it was, so long as I still had you.”

You stare at him as he stares back at you, totally dumbfounded with this brand new information. Cassian swallows thickly, shifting his weight yet again from one leg to another. The loud party continues outside of your room, drowning these confessions in the excitement for a nearing midnight.

You had all these big plans.

Memories warp at a second’s notice as your brain tries to understand what he’s laid at your altar.

Not one of them involved me.

He shouldn’t be saying this.

He shouldn’t be saying any of this.

Closing your eyes to find a pause in your racing thoughts, you try — try to find where perhaps this is fabricated, designed to see if you’re easily swayed by the past that you so desperately let die in this rebellion.

Slowly, your eyelids flutter open. Cassian is watching with something close to concern.

(Something, maybe, closer to fear.)

You gently shake your head. “This is a test.” 

“I know.” 

“Luthen did this—” 

“Fuck Luthen,” he breathes out, eyes dropping to stare at your lips, and your heartbeat quickens. 

His brows meet in the middle, concentrated yet lost — as if he’s back on Ferrix, scrawny and scrappy and calculating the gravity of the risk should he decide to steal or trespass —

Or do something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Cassian.” 

Your voice is gentle with a warning. His eyes do not raise, but he does answer.

“What?”

“You have that look on your face.” 

“I have a look?”

“When you’re contemplating doing something stupid? Yes.”

He snorts, amused. “You remember what that looks like after fifteen years?”

“It's very hard to forget it.” 

He mulls the moment over, flickering his attention back up to your eyes and nodding.

“You’re right. I am thinking of doing something stupid.”

“How stupid?”

“Incredibly.”

A beat passes.

Finally he blinks up to your eyes, searching for an answer to a question he hasn’t asked yet. You wait, just as you’ve always waited, to hear his voice.

“It’s almost midnight,” he says, flexing the leather gloved hand at his side. “I should go.”

Everything sinks.

The crowd outside grows louder as people depart from their private rooms to celebrate in the middle of the casino. Everyone begins the unison countdown of the final minute until the new year rings out.

The device in your hand grows heavy — a reminder of why he’s here in the first place, what Luthen will be looking for, yet your arm cannot rise to give it over.

(A few more minutes and he’ll be gone.)

To find a reason to keep him here with you would be selfish.

Instead of protesting, you nod. 

“Yeah. You should go.”

He nods, too, and his throat bobs with a swallow.

Outside your door, their laughter and shouts reach a collective ten, nine, eight, seven…

Yet he doesn’t move. 

Neither do you.

Six, five, four, three…

“Cass?”

Two.

Cassian speaks with broken finality, rushed and wanting. “I can't go without—”

You beat him to it.

Canto Bight’s cliffside casino roars with excitement of the new year while you grab the lapel of his Imperial uniform, dragging him in as he simultaneously launches his lips to yours.

The force of him smacks your head into the wall, but the stars behind your eyes aren’t from impact. It’s from the way he presses his mouth to yours, desperate to pour years of frustration and wonder into a long-awaited kiss. You whimper into it, eager to dissolve any space between you.

Cassian Andor cages your head into the palms of his gloved hands, holding you with a tenderness and strength only he can have. He groans into your mouth when he tastes you, tongue dragging along your lower lip — the neediness of it is enough to make your knees give out.

Except he drops his hands to your shoulders and spins you, pressing your chest into the wall. Using your hands to balance yourself, Cassian wastes not a second more to place his hands over yours, pinning you in place.

“We should have — opened with a fight,” he murmurs breathlessly into your ear, kissing your earlobe before bringing it into his mouth. 

You bite back a moan, dropping your forehead to the wall. “If I'd known you wanted to kiss me after all this time, Cass, then I would have — gone straight past a fight and went for it.”

He chuckles behind you, letting go of your earlobe to travel kisses down the side of your neck.

“There is a lot I wanted to do back then, but I was too chickenshit to try it.”

The imagery of a lot burns into the back of your skull.

“And now?” you ask, but it’s wavered.

Cassian slows down, but his lips remain against the crook of your neck. You mourn the loss of speed, pushing your hips back to connect with his.

A hand shoots down to still your waist as his thumb runs soothing strokes into the skintight dress.

“Not here,” he decides, but it isn’t regretful. It’s determined. “When I see you again—”

“When?” you interrupt.

“When,” he enforces, squeezing your waist, “I see you again, I’ll do what I’ve been too chickenshit to do and it won’t be under a watchful eye.”

When I see you again.

You smile small, delirious in the haze of him.

“Is that a promise?”

“As good as I can make one,” he responds in earnest, turning to leave a small kiss on your cheek. “You’re not losing me so easily this time.”

And you believe him.

Misunderstandings, miscommunications — all of that hardship to end up here, of all places.

You have so much to learn.

(He has so much to hear.)

Even if this was Luthen’s doing, even if this was a test of faith, you cannot find a reason to care. Not when your lips still tingle with the kiss you’d only dreamt about your entire life.

Reaching for his arm, you gently bring his free hand to yours and place the small drive in the middle of his palm. Cassian’s chin drops to observe the tiny metal, jaw setting to its unreadable clench.

Because at the end of the night, you both still have jobs to do.

A new year.

(A new horizon.)

“Until next time,” you say, removing your hand from his.

Cassian curls his fingers over the drive, shoving the small device in his coat pocket. He flexes and raises his hand to bring it up to your cheek, cradling your face once more as he leans in for one final kiss. This time it’s softer. Timid.

The closest Cassian Andor can ever get to a promise.

He pulls away, nose to nose, and mirrors in reply.

“Until next time.”

[clara-maybe-ontheroad]

Little musings on Gap (Drake), Only Friends ep 1 & 7

It's probably been said by someone already, but I'm appreciating the fact that the superposition between Boston sleeping with Gap in the first episode and Nick jerking off to his phone was such an announcement of what was to come.

-> The voyeurism of Nick going through Boston's phone for his sexual pleasure while (we now know) Boston was being filmed against his consent for Gap's sexual pleasure.

-> The revelation that this isn't just a one off and that Gap actually has a career with filming guys he has sex with and putting it on the Internet as porn.

Which begs the question though : was any of that first interaction between Boston and Gap real ? In episode 1, Gap says he has a boyfriend but that boyfriend lets him play with strangers sometimes. It's entirely possible that it's true, but in episode 7 we also learn that Gap has put so many sex tapes online that he isn't surprised that someone like Mew might recognize him from "his work".

(as an aside, I've talked in previous posts about how much "work" and "services" seem to almost exclusively refer to sex in this show, the trend continues)

Anyway, I wouldn't be surprised if Gap lied to Boston in that first encounter, because everybody in this show and in real life lies, and also because he probably saw what would make him more exciting to Boston : being taken, unavailable, technically belonging to someone else yet wanting him. We all know that's Boston's type, and maybe Gap could tell. Gap was putting the ground work to see if Boston was daring enough and would make a good subject for his videos.

Edit : turns out I was misremembering and potential threesome guy wasn't Gap, so no lying on Gap's part there. Still though, the rest of the lying stands since Boston didn't know about the camera ; and maybe Gap justifies it to himself thinking that since he has a presence online, if people approach him it's their responsibility to know ? Or not his problem

Does Gap know who is going to put on the Internet and who he's going to keep for himself ? I don't know, but it seems like he didn't actually release the video with Boston, he tried to use the fact that he had it to get more sex out of him.

The show treats it as a bit of a bleep in Mew's revenge scheme, but we do see how many folders Gap has on his computer of sex tapes. A lot.

Btw love how P'Jojo has to insert himself into everything haha, after the Twitter account now the sex tape folder

How many of these people knew they were being filmed ? How many didn't ? How many that didn't had their faces hidden in the shadow ? The example of Boston Vs Mew seems to suggest that when they do know, Gap's partners often prefer to have their face hidden in the shadows, while someone like Boston who is in the dark (ah) about what's happening will show their face on camera unknowingly.

Would that make those videos more valuable to Gap ? Collecting faces of men who didn't consent ?

The show does treat what Gap did as something had, but it's mostly there so Mew can have its revenge moment of threatening to Boston but keeping the moral high ground, showing he's better than everyone.

But the show is telling us everyone's moral standards are in the gutter. No one is truly shocked at Gap's behaviours, and it doesn't seem like there's going to be any consequences to that. It's just going to be a bump on the road, because there are shitty people everywhere like that.

And as said in other posts, the low level to high key shittiness of absolutely everyone in this show is what's making it gold.

(this is not high degree meta so I don't know if it's worthy of the ephemerality squad but I'd love to hear more thoughts on the Gap situation or to be pointed to more posts already written about him so tagging @waitmyturtles @lurkingshan @ranchthoughts @twig-tea @slayerkitty @distant-screaming @neuroticbookworm @chickenstrangers @thatgirl4815 @wen-kexing-apologist )

[saintsenara]

For the Love Your Fandom Asks 3 and 4 please!

thank you very much for the ask, anon. lovely choices from the love your fandom ask game...

3. who is a character that fandom has helped you appreciate?

sigh. i can hear @whinlatter cackling from here.

ginny weasley.

i've never found ginny a hugely interesting character in her canon form - nor hinny a hugely interesting canon ship - not because i think there's anything particularly wrong with either but because ginny feels so underdone within the narrative and i don't find the fact that all of her major character development happens offscreen particularly compelling.

and i've also always had a wee bit of beef with ginny's treatment in fan spaces - i don't like the way she's treated by lots of fics which want to break her and harry up [which just make her a sort of raving, gold-digging harpy], of course, but i also don't like the fact that so much writing about her turns her into either a #girlboss who hates her mam or into a bang-maid who exists only as a tool for harry's self-actualisation. but, y'know, in a twee way.

but there's - as there is with everyone in the books - some really interesting stuff which i have always been aware lurks in ginny's character arc - especially her slightly vindictive streak and, given my interests, what she actually thinks of tom riddle - but which i'd never taken the time to particularly care about.

enter whinlatter, who is a paid-up defender of ginny, but - crucially - a paid-up defender of ginny as a bit of a flop. her takes on her as a character - especially her inability to open up and her tendency to deflect questions about what she's feeling - and on her various relationships - especially the fact that she's one of the few hinny fans i've seen really dig into the fact that harry's "protection" of ginny isn't romantic but intensely paternalistic [and also her defence of the legend that is molly weasley] - are things i find really valuable to think and to talk about and to integrate into my own writing and worldbuilding.

she's also unfailingly generous intellectually - there's lots she and i continue to disagree on when it comes to her girl, but I've never found her anything other than delighted to bicker about these things - and i will never stop doing an evil little chuckle when i see myself quoted in the author's notes for beasts.

4. say something nice about a ship you don't ship

at their cores, every single ship - no matter how implausible; no matter how beholden to fanon; no matter how out-of-character - comes down to the same thing: that love [platonic or romantic] and desire [platonic or sexual] and human connection is strange and unpredictable, that it may look very different to very different people, and that it is universal.

i dislike numerous ships because i think they're rarely done in ways i find interesting - things like jegulus, wolfstar, dramione, and harmony chief among them - but i respect that they have this fundamental basis in the baffling power of love.

and that they also recognise that fandom is meant to be fun - and that making two hotties kiss in a way they wouldn't do in canon is a time-honoured way of having that fun. shipping really shouldn't be deep, and - despite the reputation the harry potter fandom has for endless beefing over shipping preferences - i am delighted by the sheer number of my fandom friends who think the same way.

[other answers from this ask game]

[fenicenera83]

I often go back to read random passages from Blood and Gold again, not only because it is my favorite book in the chronicles, or the story of the character I love most, but also because I always find something new to think about. I love Marius, but I am not as rational as he is, although I share with him the trait of making, often times, wrong choices when it comes to following my heart.

I can't examine myself as carefully and precisely as Marius does when faced with these errors, and that's okay. I was just thinking, and precise is my personal feeling in rereading these pages, that a lot of what unites Marius with Pandora and Bianca stems precisely from the role they have shared over time as custodians of the progenitors. Let me explain further. I do not want to say, as some people do who feel compelled to denigrate one ship in favor of another or who create off-the-wall theories (😆) to prove how their ship is more valid, that Marius did not love Pandora and Bianca. I am not a fan of either of them, but this is a sentiment of mine that is not reflected in my favorite character who is Marius. As much as I personally do not love either of the two with Marius, I know very well that he loves them and has always loved them. However, I see how some fans interpret the fact that when Marius is alone, he always often recalls the need for Bianca or Pandora's company, thus justifying the fact that he loves them more than Armand.

I guess everyone can see this in whatever light they want, hence my personal view on this. Marius always protected Armand from Akasha, as if something in him knew that she would not accept him. And from here again, a thousand ideas can go, why? Did Akasha not approve of Marius being more devoted to Amadeo and his school than to her?

Does Akasha know Amadeo believe in only one God and would he never accept Akasha as the deity she believed herself to be? We know from TVA the frustration and fear mixed with indecision and protective instinct that Marius shows in the face of Akasha's silence about Amadeo. None of this is there for either Pandora or Bianca. And in fact Amadeo shared more with Marius than anyone else, as is reported not only in TVA but also in TQOTD, Marius and Armand shared their souls, bared their souls to each other. But there is precisely one thing that Armand never shared with Marius, being the other guardian of the progenitors.

That is why I think that Marius in some moments of Blood and Gold recalls more the lack of Pandora or Bianca, because they both know the burden, the responsibility, the care and the inner struggle, as well as the 'isolation and the weight that that role puts on the shoulders of those who fill it. Of course neither of them can really understand the 'immensity of that role because only Marius has been carrying it on his shoulders the whole time.But he has shared with Bianca and Pandora a part of that journey. And that in his loneliness I think influenced him to think about the two of them. I say all this, without wanting to take away from the importance of the feelings that unite Marius with Bianca and Pandora, I will have my preferences, but I always try to be objective.

But I think it's not fair to leverage those moments when Marius talks about Bianca and Pandora to denigrate Marius/Armand or to use them as leverage to push the idea that one ship is more valuable than others. These thoughts of mine are not aimed at that, it is my idea about the dynamics of the relationships between the characters. I think everyone should love what brings them happiness without having to impose or try to make what they prefer more valuable at the expense of something else. I don't feel I have to make the Marius/Armand or the Marius/Daniel the only valid ships in the chronicles or the best. The Canon makes them important and binding, especially after the 'last trilogy, but hey for me just have respect then everyone can do what they want! Love what makes you happy and leave others free to do the same.

[2af-afterdark]

The horny is rampant and I got some thots

1) Satan is a brat tamer but not in the traditional sense, he purposely eggs you so you’ll react to how he wants and uses that as an advantage while you get fucked senselessly, all the while he has a smug grin

2) Everyone in Tartorus is a service dom/bottom change my mind, they have an itch to please MC as they see them as a valuable more rich than gold and wanna cherish it

3) Beel is similar to Satan in the sense of being a brat tamer, but he’d rather be a brat handler, he likes the spunk, he enjoys seeing a feisty MC (he’d probably say it gives you a better taste when he eats you out 💀)

Anyways these have been rampant in my pea sized brain lately so I hope you enjoy (feel free to add more if you want to)

🦩

Ohhhhh~ A brat tamer with slightly manipulative tendencies? That would be peak power play. Imagine knowing he's doing it and trying to control yourself, so he gets more persistent until your anger spills over at his fooling around. Now he gets to tame a brat, indulge in your anger, and watch how your toes curl while he's fucking your brain out of your head.

I accept this headcanon. Mammon clearly wants to be the source of MC's pleasure more than anyone else. He loves when they get greedy with their desires. Bimet wants MC to control him, but in a way where he serves them. I crave Eligos being a dom because josou seme needs go brrrrr. And Valefor is definitely the kind of guy who lets MC sit in his lap and ride them until they are tired, at which point he will help them keep going. All the while, he'd be praising them.

I have only heard about Bell's Selfie card, but... yeah. That sounds like him. He started by insinuating MC was too immature to handle a sexual escapade with him, but one spunky MC later and they are starting kink negotiations. Also, does that mean Bell is the only devil so far who actually shows proper kink etiquette?

Also feel free to send the thots. They are so heavy. I will help you carry the load. lol

[viivdle]

it's been a long time coming..

Dancing With Our Hands Tied (Jurdan's Version) with @annamatix <3

part 1!!

"I, I loved you in secret" is one of the many lyrics you don't need to use metaphorically for them to fit. he *did* love her in secret, and he hid his feelings with every action he took.

"First sight, yeah, we love without reason" we get a description of what he noticed first when he saw jude, and he was (very obviously, might i add) star struck. he didn't have a reason to be attracted to her. if anything, it was the opposite. his whole life he was taught to hate mortals and find them repulsing, but something about her was different.

"Oh, how were you to know?" i think sometimes cardan regrets his actions. he would do it again just to have the same outcome - being with jude. but i think he regrets how long it took because it cost them valuable time together. even after his feelings were clear, he did things that prolonged the time until they got to openly confess their love.

"And my, my love had been frozen" with everything in his life growing up, nobody reciprocated the love he tried to give, so he locked his heart away the best he could. he tried to freeze it so it wouldn't get hurt, but people still found ways to shatter it.

"Deep blue, but you painted me golden" cardan had a horrible life, nobody needs reminders of it. it's in everything he says and does. she ultimately saved his life in more ways than one. this can also be taken literally. "but you painted me golden" fits the scene in which jude struck him and smeared gold over his face, but that's just a funny thing to add. another way to interpret it (i'm already getting unhinged with this) is that he was with nicasia before he was with jude. not only were they bad together, which painted him blue, but nicasia is the princess of the undersea, nicasia is the deep blue that was replaced with gold, jude.

"Oh, and you held me close. Oh, how was I to know?" it's no secret that jude can lie. and that she takes great advantage of that ability. even after everything, i think cardan still had doubts about her love for him because she *could* be lying. he's very self-destructive and thinks little to nothing of himself. "it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing" is only one of the many admissions to it, verbal or not. while he knows jude loves him, but can't be certain.

"I could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets" screams cardan. he thought he was uncapable of being loved, and she proved him otherwise. he loves with all he has and all he can give, and when he got a taste of what it was like to be loved, he never wanted to let it go again. he would've spent forever with her hands in his pockets, and he would've been happy to do so.

"Picture of your face in an invisible locket" i love love LOVE this lyric, and cardan would too. as i said, he loves with all his might, and he proudly does so. he would 100% wear a locket with a picture of jude in it, nobody questions that. he would love it even more if the locket was invisible to show everyone who has his heart. in the standards elfhame sets, he shouldn't feel proud to love a mortal. he is anyway and after finding out how it feels to love her, he stops caring about it and he would scream it from the top of every building in the kingdom.

"You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it" need i remind everyone of when he was a serpent and knew nothing, not even himself (yes, i'm repeating myself again) but he knew jude? nothing in the world could stop his love for her, literally. and it most definitely something he'd admit to jude.

"I had a bad feeling" has so many meanings for me, looking at it and trying to connect it to cardan. literally, hate is a bad feeling - and he felt it for jude. a lot. cardan, despite his very inflated seeming ego, is extremely anxious when it comes to jude. not only is she the only family he has left, she's the only family he ever had. yes, he had his court. yes, he had a complex relationship with the people in it. yes, said relationship also included love. but no, it was never pure love. jude and cardan's story is anything but pure. it's tainted, bloody, cursed... but their love? it's the purest love in his life.

i know this is very, very long, and i doubt anyone's read it - but stay tuned for the rest of my version and anna's post on her account<33

[thedinanshiral]

Playing The Veilguard - Update

For now, as first impressions after roughly 20 hours of game (first 3 spent on CC) i can confidently say:

Combat on DA has never been better. I'm playing mage and now that i'm more familiar with the controls it's the best mage combat in the series.

Dialogues are not bad so far, just a bit awkward in places, totally understandable as it's the beginning of the game and everyone is still in "introductions mode".

Narrative felt a bit rushed in places for me but i also understand they had to set certain events quickly to really start the game.

Graphics look really good. Bright areas are clear and beautifully crafted, blighted areas are really blighted, muddy, bloody disgusting. For anyone complaining the series no longer has any darkness or gore, just know i took screenshots i can't share without flagging them. DAO blight feels like cheap Halloween decor by comparison.

New darkspawn looked silly sometimes if you paused the trailers at the right frame but while playing??? You're gonna run, fadestep, sprint, roll and jump away for dear life.

Less? bloat. The Crossroads have many blocked paths and every time you find one it gets added to your quest log but some even state "this won't unlock until later" so they'll just sit there clogging your quest log until "later" arrives, whenever that may be. Also if you're not careful some companions quests will pile up with everything else. Loot you pick up is mostly tagged as "valuable item" , you can check descriptions for more worldbuilding but you either keep them for no reason or sell them, that's all they're there for. Because you can sell them to factions to increase your reputation with them/add to their power, if you have many valuables i suggest not selling them all in one go and try to split them more evenly between whatever factions are available to you then.

The game is certainly more linear, but the different areas do open up new paths as you progress so if a path is blocked when you're around busy with a quest, trust it'll open up later, be sure to revisit locations after you finished whatever you were doing there the first time around.

Equipment progression is done simply by finding/buying the same item again, multiple times, or at the Caretaker's workshop, and it's always the same item, same stats with increasing numbers, while in DAI one could use the same schematic to craft three different staves, each with different elements and stats depending on the materials used. I miss that, but i get a simple progression system like DAV's keeps you more focused on the game progression as a whole instead of distracting you with picking elfroot everywhere or tracking the right creature to get this or that leather because you want a robe that looks blue.

The UI is gorgeous, maybe it's me being partial to all that purple and gold, but it really looks amazing and simple to use. Although it did take me 10 hours of gameplay to realize there's a local map and a world map because i didn't see the option on screen but that was just me being too "in the zone" to notice.

Companions are good so far. Bellara is nice, Lucanis is the love of my life. Each have a unique ability that Rook can ask them to use on the field (Neve can activate certain magical artifacts, for example and thats the only example i can give without majorly spoiling some things) and this helps with reaching places and opening doors. Once Rook gets the lyrium dagger they can also do an extra thing or two.

The Lighthouse not only offers accomodations for you and your party, it also has a puzzle here and there to keep you busy, and the bit of decor Rook can arrange in their room is also nice; you can find or purchase decor items and decide where to put them, choosing from some alotted surfaces.

I'd like to keep typing but i want to keep playing! I'll be posting more in detail about my current playthough on my personal tmblr so as to not spam this one.

Overall, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is not disappointing, on the contrary it's giving and giving and this is just starting, i can't even imagine how good it'll keep on getting.

As some content creators and fans have suggested, don't rush it. Explore everything, read everything, try as much as possible from what The Veilguard has to offer. We waited ten years for this, better make it last ten more.

And don't forget to read the codices! There's some interesting things in there like for instance, Evanuris correspondence.

[1waywardbirdlane]

Do-it-tober Day 2

Only edited by me, not beta read. I can’t remember if that chest I mention at the end is actually armed or not…. I think it is but don’t hold it against me if I’m wrong. Approx 750 words, all written today 10/4/24. 😊

(In the Blighted Village)

“We’re not going to find anything else, why can’t we just leave?” he whined.

“Astarion, why don’t you go help Karlach fix that wagon. She can pull it back to camp for us with the cooking equipment Gale found.”

Astarion turned with a roll of his eyes and headed towards Karlach, grumbling all the while. He leaned against a boulder while she fumbled her first few attempts at repairing the wagon. The lumber she touched burst into flames after seconds, even if she just nudged them with her toe. Astarion watched her get frustrated, then discouraged. As you watched him, you watched an expression of pity flicker over his face. You saw the muscles in his jaw flex as he looked for something to say. His knuckles turned white and his nails pushed against his palms as if he thought to touch her, to pat her back. Karlach stood, shoulders down and rounded, dejected. Astarion couldn’t stand it. Finally a scowl settled over his face and he was saved from his dilemma by Wyll, who swaggered over with all the bravado of the famed Blade.

“Don’t worry Karlach, this wood is so old and dry there’s nothing it could do but burn. Let’s go look in the barn cellar for that workshop. Maybe we’ll find some metal we can use to reinforce the wagon. We’re going to need it good and sturdy if it’s going to last us through what I fear may be a long journey.”

“Oh! Oh! Oh! I can totally melt the metal to weld it together!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Wyll replied with a warm smile.

As they headed away, Astarion looked in the other direction to where Gale was still making neat stacks of the cookware and tools he was bringing back to camp. He stood briefly, thumb and forefinger holding his chin in thought, then nodded and headed towards some bookshelves in the next room, where you stood, going through various dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. You had also accumulated a pile of treasures- a small set of scales and measuring spoons, some contraption he couldn’t name and a box of empty vials. He rolled his eyes, realizing that he’d better go help with the wagon, because it was going to have to carry a LOT indeed if all you fools were going to keep accumulating such junk. At least the things he gathered were valuable. He was accumulating a decent amount of coin by selling his finds every few days to the halfling merchant at the Grove. But if nothing else, sometimes it gives him a small comfort to look at his beautiful loot in the darkest depths of night, when everyone else sleeps or meditates. To run his fingers over pearls and rubies set in gold, or to put on the "new" clothes that he's come across. To lean back on his bedroll under blankets or just lengths of fabric that were softer than anything he was allowed at home. 

Suddenly there’s a loud pounding sound. Then another. He looks around, but cannot find the source. A third pound is followed by a few seconds of tremendous rumbling and the earth shakes, enough for the box of vials you’d set aside to to fall over and off the counter. He understood now why you were going to take them. They must have been charmed to be unbreakable, because although they went flying and clattering across the floor, not one of them broke. He turned back to the barn. Usually any loud noises had something to do with Karlach, so he’d better go investigate. 

His eyes still were not used to rapid shifts from light to dark, as he was accustomed to mainly living in the dark. Stepping from a cloud free sunny day into the dark cellar almost made him dizzy. He wavered ever so slightly on his feet before focusing on the sound of Wyll and Karlach talking, and following it down some stairs. 

“What in the hells did you two get up to down here?”

Karlach is so easy to sneak up on. He’s not sure how she managed in the hells for 10 years as she jumps and shrieks at the sound of his voice. When he found them they had been staring at what was once probably a stone wall but was now a hole that led down to some caverns Astarion was certain he did not want to explore.

Wyll was better at hiding his surprise, and smiled knowingly. 

“Astarion, I’m glad you joined us. There’s an armed and locked chest over there. Think you can get into it?”

“With pleasure.”

[queensparklekitten]

ok so i can't find it for the life of me but there was this one post that was like "what if every time minecraft updates it retcons the whole universe, so as far as villagers and whatnot are concerned it was always like this, but players remember a time when badlands were called mesa and the nether was a barren wasteland"

and i'm just thinking about it again because i loaded up my long term world in 1.21 and the trades in the village i'd made across the river were Completely Different

i guess the update must have done something to my villagers in preparation for the trade rebalance, or there must have been a world corruption, because villagers that were previously master level had been downgraded to journeyman or lower, and gotten new trades.

my fletcher's suddenly a zero-XP novice only giving me 2 trades. the only villager i have who's still at master level is the farmer. one of my luckiest ever minecraft moments was when a zombie villager i cured offered me mending for one emerald as soon as i put a lectern in front of it. that villager lived right across the river from me and i'd traded with it more times than you can imagine, that diamond on its belt is gone and replaced with a piece of iron and now the only enchant it sells me is multishot. thankfully i already have mending on all my gear and i play with keepinventory so i won't lose any of it, but still...

Can you imagine that from an in-universe perspective? One day you're at master level in your profession, the next you're back at the start? As a side effect of the world rewriting itself, you've lost all those years of practice overnight, and you don't even know you had them? You wouldn't be upset about it, though, because as far as you know, you've always been this way. You were never on that level.

The strange being that lives in the fancy pink house across the river seems to claim otherwise. She asks why you're an apprentice, why you're selling Multishot. She looked around to make absolute sure you were the only librarian, even though she knows yours is the only lectern in the village.

She claims you used to sell her Mending for a price she admits is insanely cheap. Calls you her most precious, most valuable villager. She says you were once Diamond-ranked. That's not possible. You only recently leveled up to iron, you're nowhere near gold much less diamond. And you've never carried Mending, either. You have no idea how to obtain or make that one. You've never even met anyone who does that you know of. You know her kind covet that enchantment, but you've never heard of one of them trying to obtain it by pretending they already have.

She didn't recognize you at first. She barely recognizes you now, even though by her own omission you look the same as always save for the iron on your belt. You haven't changed. This is how you've always been. Everyone else knows it was always this way. She says that some of them also used to be at higher levels. That's not even possible. You would know if you'd ever sold Mending or been at diamond level. You have no idea what she's on about. You figure either she's messing with you guys for fun, or all the weeks-long trips to faraway places with no sleep or companionship the entire time have begun messing with her mind.

Every tool and weapon she wields, every piece of armor she wears, the wings strapped to her back, all seem to never wear down or need replacing. You've witnessed them briefly glow and repair their own cracks and dents when she trades with the other villagers.

[emberflame999]

OKAY pop off about your Toppat OCs like the ones you love the most so I can answer YOUR ask (:

I have spent three days writing all this, I hope you’re satisfied

The OCs in order:

Mr. Gold

Silver

Egg

Stitchhat

Rodney

Ales

——————————————————————————————————

Mr. Gold (aka Ethan Gold)

 He/Him | 5’10 ft tall | Late 30’s | Gay

 He was born into the very rich Gold family in London, and his family consisted of him, his younger brother Elijah Gold, and his mother Cynthia Gold. Neither he nor Elijah inherited their mother’s power of being able to summon golden spikes out of any surface. Their mother held lots of power and wealth, even owning a secret vault full of powerful magical relics.  Although to her, her most valuable possessions were her sons and she did all she could for them. Gold lost one of his upper teeth in a mugging incident when he was 16 where he tried to fight back against his attackers, but failed miserably because he is about as strong as a soggy noodle. The lost tooth was eventually replaced by a golden one. When he was 17, his mother was assassinated and another assassin came after him and his brother, but Gold managed to shoot the assassin first. Filled with paranoia, Gold ran away from home, (he took his brother with him), and was on the run for about two months until they were found by the Toppat Clan. He joined the clan as a way to protect himself and Elijah from anyone who wanted them dead. 

 His early life in the clan was somewhat rough, he took up a job as a low-ranking treasurer and ended up getting a surprise promotion to head treasurer after only a year, because the previous one had died and the current chief Terrence couldn’t care a less about who was treasurer. Stressed out by the sudden increase in responsibility, Mr. Gold started abusing his sleep schedule and even his eating schedule, some days even forgetting to eat entirely, desperate to do everything the best he could. The added stress only worsened his already awful anxiety. He first met Tony and Hector when Gold was getting shoved around and teased by some higher ups and Tony and Hector defended him. After that incident, Gold started heavily crushing on them, and eventually somehow managed to summon the courage to ask them out, and (after several years of dating, of course!) the trio eventually got married! 

 Mr. Gold was relieved when Terrence was overthrown, because Terrence had always scared Gold and was also a really bad leader anyways. Gold fully supported Reginald and would be somewhat wary of Henry in the endings where Henry becomes leader. Gold still has problems with sleep and eating, like typically staying up late working as well as almost never eating breakfast because he views it as unimportant, and sometimes he skips out on lunch too. (Tony and Hector try their best to try and help Gold but old habits die hard). Mr. Gold does his best to try and be friendly to everyone, which can be hard because he finds many people rather intimidating. He always heavily worries about saying or doing the wrong thing, or just about messing up in general. He is obsessed with gold, and keeps a hoard of golden trinkets he finds or steals. 

 Mr. Gold has been with the Toppat Clan since he was 17 years old.

—————————

Silver

She/Her | 3’8 ft tall | Early 40’s | Lesbian 

 Silver is a crewmate who hails from the planet Mira. She is the daughter of the Admiral, and used to be a General and Mechanic before she ended up on Earth. Silver’s father died, and her twin brother, Fredrick, ran away to avoid having to become the next Admiral. Silver oversaw her own ship and crew alongside her best friend Nightlock, who was the manager of communications, and Silver’s wife, Amethyst, who served as the commander of the ship. Silver’s crew were all killed by a murderous Shifter (a type of imposter who can shapeshift into literally anything) who had killed and disguised itself as Nightlock. Amethyst sacrificed herself so Silver could make it to an escape pod. Silver’s escape pod landed on Earth, where she was found and eventually taken in by the Toppat Clan. 

 In the first few weeks after being found by the clan, Silver was heavily burdened by her grief and did little but sleep and eat. She started doing jobs like carrying cargo or delivering things to other Toppats. (Crewmates are actually quite strong despite their smaller size!) She eventually started to heal from her grief, but it never went away completely. Silver began to work harder than any other Toppat and ensured herself a place among the clan’s higher-ups. About 6 years after she had joined the clan, Egg was found, and since Silver was pretty much the only other person who could speak Egg’s native language, Silver made Egg her assistant.

 Silver typically comes across as stern and no-nonsense, (do no harm but take no shit) but she always tends to look out for her fellow Toppats and make sure that they are doing well, because she was a Captain once, and it is a Captain’s job to make sure the crew is in top noch condition. She will listen to anyone who needs it, and she will defend the other Toppats with her life. Though Silver does feel some envy when she sees a happy couple, as it reminds her of her deceased wife. Silver still wears her wedding ring, which is a ring made of a back mineral that is not native to Earth. Some nights, Silver goes over to the observatory or a balcony and just stares out at the stars, finding constellations as she thinks about everyone she has lost.

 The ghosts of Nightlock and Amethyst still follow Silver around. And although Silver can’t see them, she is aware that they are there because of Nightlock using his guardian angel abilities to protect Silver. 

 As of current, Silver has been with the Toppat Clan for about 11 years.

—————————

Egg

She/They | 6’1 ft tall | Early 30’s | Aroace

 Egg is a type of imposter known as a Seeker, and she hails from an unnamed remote planet. Seekers are built for hunting down their prey, so Egg has abilities like having an incredible sense of smell, being very fast, having the ability to sense heartbeats, deadly claws, and several more. ‘Egg’ isn’t her original name, it’s more of just a nickname that eventually just became her name over time. Egg has has a slight difficulty understanding English and has an even harder time speaking it, because her vocal cords weren’t really built for speaking in a non-native language, but she tries her best! Her native language is Galactic, which is also a language that all of the Mirans (crewmates) also know and can speak, although Mirans also all use plain English as well. Because of this, Silver typically serves as Egg’s translator. Egg is actually very friendly and curious, and doesn’t always understand how things work on Earth, but she’s always willing to learn.

 Egg grew up in a small farming community, and spent most of her days tending to her family’s farm. One day while working, she discovered a small device (aka a teleporter) and letting her curiosity take over, she pressed the button and was teleported into a Toppat base. After a couple days, some Toppats found Egg hiding in a closet, gave her a top hat, and then she joined the clan, eventually working as Silver’s assistant. Egg was intrigued by the way Earth people make food and would stare at and watch the Toppat chefs before trying out cooking for herself, which she actually ended up being good at, and so she sometimes helps out in the kitchen. She’s also a great listener, and will listen to you vent about your tragic backstory for hours on end. (And she will do her best to comfort troubled Toppats, even if she’s not always sure how to do so).

 Egg has been in the clan for about 5 years.

—————————

Stitchhat (aka Sadie Bonaccorso)

She/Her | 6 ft tall | Early 30’s | Aroace

 Stitchhat was born into the clan to a pair of somewhat low-ranking Toppats. When Stitchhat was pretty young, her parents were killed by Terrence “supporters” (a group of Toppats who carried out Terrence’s dirty work, aka killing off rebels) because her parents were trying to rebel against Terrence. One of them felt pity for the young Stitchhat, and adopted her. Stitchhat grew to love her adoptive mother and her four uncles, and being one of the few who understood that they only “supported” Terrence to protect their own lives. She lived like every other Toppat kid until Terrence’s dethronement, in which one of her uncles was executed. Her remaining uncles and her adoptive mother were punished for what they had done for Terrence and demoted to being the lowest-ranking Toppats, earning minimum wage and typically carrying heavy cargo 24/7. (Which just made them 2x more buff honestly).  

 Despite the hatred to her mom and uncles, Stitchhat still lived a relatively normal life. When she turned 18 and officially became a full Toppat, she wore her birth mother’s hat and began stitching on the name tags of government soldiers of whom were killed by her own hands. (I would like to clarify she did NOT hunt soldiers for sport). Eventually she filled up the hat and no longer took the name tags from dead soldiers. Her hat is her most prized possession. Stitchhat is a pretty carefree person despite having killed so many people, being friendly and having a more enthusiastic demeanor. She pranks people on occasion, as well as giving people a friendly tease every now and then. She rarely refers to Reginald by his actual name, typically just calling him “Twink”. She hides it very well, but she actually holds a teeny bit of resentment towards Reginald for killing one of her uncles. She is always trying to prove herself, even at the cost of her own health, because she feels that she could do more for the clan.

 Stitchhat has been with the clan her whole life.

—————————

Rodney Brandt 

He/Him | 5’11 ft tall | Early 30’s | Bisexual 

 Rodney was born into the clan, and has dedicated himself to being one of the clan’s best fighters. He has fire powers, and after using them he will clean off the ash and stuff the fire leaves behind on his hands and arms. (If he doesn’t clean it off, it’ll build up and become permanent. He once had a colleague who had permanently black hands and arms because of it). His flames grow stronger and bigger depending on his emotions, but never can spread farther than his shoulders. (He is fireproof, his clothes are fireproof as well).

 Rodney’s personality is honestly not too different from Stitchhat’s, but a main difference is that he’s somewhat quieter than Stitchhat, and less likely to use his words to express his emotions.  He’s somewhat of a thrill-seeker, he loves to go on heists or fight enemies, he loves that rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. His best friend is Stitchhat, and together, Rodney and Stitchhat are an extremely deadly duo.

 Rodney has been with the clan his whole life.

—————————

Ales Dahlman

He/Him | 5’7 ft tall | Early 30’s | Pansexual

 Ales was not born into the clan, he and his sister Vera grew up on the streets of a rather rough neighborhood. They were often chased away and treated unfairly because of their strange appearances, which said appearances were caused by the fact that one of their direct great-grandparents had been a Shifter. After Ales and Vera had close run-ins with one too many gangs, they knew they had to find a better place to live. They eventually found the Toppat Clan and finally found acceptance.

 Ales has a somewhat friendly personality, though still gets into shenanigans. And when angered, he can go absolutely apeshit. His fighting style is rather scrappy, and he’s not afraid to fight dirty in order to win. He typically hangs out with Stitchhat and Rodney, and they’re basically like a Toppat Triple Threat. (Silver would be like their Galeforce, and she’s like an aunt to them.)

 Ales has been with the clan since he was 13 years old.